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I scowl. “Tranquilizers?”

“If Layla’s asleep, she can’t put other people to sleep. At least, that’s the theory. Katie wants to analyze her blood and make sure there are no red flags that could be dangerous to others before we move her. In the meantime, I’m having the west end of Neonopolis cleared, so you can take her there once we approve her to travel.”

I’m not tranquilizing her if I don’t have to, but I need that ICE. I take the bag. “I’ll control her.”

“Katie wants that blood ASAP,” Caleb presses.

I nod and dig the vials out of my pocket, hesitating a millisecond as my eyes collide with Maddox’s. The idea of him handling the ICE I need to save Layla’s life is enough to make me want to punch walls all over again.

Caleb and Maddox turn to depart, but Creed steps forward, as if he intends to enter the room rather than leave with the others.

I step in front of him, fighting close. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“She has twenty-four hours of unaccounted for time with an addiction to a drug only Julian can provide. We need to interrogate the woman and ensure she’s not a spy, and you’re too personally involved to do it.”

“Says who?” I demand.

“Says me,” he snaps.

“Figures,” I reply dryly. Creed is known for being as cold-hearted as they come, the Dark Knight behind Caleb’s Superman persona. “Try using some of that decision-making and paranoia to get Maddox the hell away from Caleb before it’s too late. Layla isn’t a spy.”

“I’m coming in.”

I give him my best smirk. “When you pass out, I’ll be sure and give you a blankie and teddy bear. And I’ll have to take pictures. I’ll only pass them out to everyone.”

“I’m not like the other GTECHs any more than you are,” he snaps back, but he doesn’t advance, as if he’s now having second thoughts about playing the hero.

“Before you charge in there, here’s some food for thought. Layla was around a nightclub filled with humans, and they didn’t pass out. And then there’s me, who doesn’t pack as much GTECH juice as the rest of you. I didn’t pass out. And I hate to tell you this, Creed, but you aren’t human. Not even close. In fact, you have that extra gene few else possess,” I add, reminding him of the recent discovery that keeps him on edge, and pushing him hard. I rub my hands together. “This should be interesting.”

Creed glares a moment and then apparently dispels any concern. “She’s weakened by her withdrawal. I’ll take my chances.” He steps forward.

So do I, my boots hitting his boots. “I swear to the good Lord above, if you set foot in this room, I will find a cliff and drive Carrie over the side.”

“I’ll buy another,” Creed assures me, his stone-cold expression a permanent feature.

“That’s the worst load of crap you’ve fed me since you said you would never get the healing illness and then you did,” I snipe. “You can’t buy another Carrie, and we both know it. That car has sentimental value.” I lower my voice and add, “If this were Addie, would you let you in this room?”

Creed’s eyes sharpen. “Are you saying this woman is your lifebond? Because that changes everything in my eyes if she is.”

“All I’m going to tell you at this point is to back off, Creed,” I snap, not sure what the hell is happening. “I’ve got this situation under control.”

Creed’s gaze bore into mine, and I’m not sure what he’s looking for, but tense seconds later, and he backs away. “I’ll be nearby.”

“Be nearby Maddox, not me.”

Creed offers a reluctant nod, and I don’t hang out for more discussion. I slam the door and lock it. My cellphone rings and I walk to the end of the bed, where I’ve apparently left my phone, punching the button to activate my earbuds to have Katie greet me. “How is she?” she asks, her voice earnest.

“She turned blue like the other Clanner did and it took way too long for the ICE to kick in. At least half an hour. From five the last time I saw her dose to thirty, Katie.”

“I’m not a Clanner,” Layla murmurs in a hoarse whisper that has me twisting around to find those amber eyes peeking beneath heavy lids. “They forced this on me.”

A moment later, her lashes seal shut, her breathing slipping back into an even, steady rhythm. It was as if the very thought of being called a Clanner had ripped her from a healing slumber and elicited a rebuttal.

“Jensen?” Katie presses. “Was that her? Is something wrong?”

“Considering she just woke up from what I thought was a near-death sleep to tell me she is not a Clanner,” I reply, facing forward again, “I’d say she’s improving.”

Katie laughs. “Busting your chops and barely back from the dead. I think I might like this woman. And we both know you get off on having your chops busted.”