Page 13 of The Jaguar's Flower

“Machiavelli,” he whispered his name as dark gray eyes burrowed into hers. The jaguar inhaled her floral fragrance to store in his memory. When she gasped, he turned to leave the room. He needed to reassess the mission and his actions.

She watched his back until the door slammed behind him. Confused, she looked up at Draven. “What?” Before she finished her question, his head shook slightly.

“We should return to your lab, Dr. Morris.” He didn’t trust the exam room but assumed her lab would be safer to speak more freely.

Without another word, she cleaned up and packed away the specimens while her eyes continued to dart toward the door. Her heart felt broken once Machiavelli left, and she didn’t understand why she felt that way. Tears burned her eyes, but she blinked them away as she whispered, “Take me back to my lab, please.”

Chapter eight

ThemomentDravenreturnedViolet to her lab, he shut the door behind him. A salty scent filled the air through their short walk, so he knew she was on the verge of tears. He felt no softness for the rest of the personnel that worked within the facility, but she showed genuine kindness to him and the rest of the soldiers. When he turned, he noticed the tears that filled her eyes and the way her shoulders slumped. She appeared almost as beaten as some experiments within the building.

Renfield forbade the shifters from touching the staff, but he laid his hand on her shoulder. That was all it took for her to step into him and lay her cheek against his chest. He felt the shudders that ran through her body. He held no experience with comfort. Each shifter dealt with their pain alone and in their own way. He spoke into her ear as she cried, “The staff may touch us, but we are punished if we touch them unless it is during hand-to-hand combat training.”

Her blue eyes shone in the fluorescent light when she lifted her head. He read the question within them. His jaw ticked as he gave a slight nod. “Some experienced more abuse, while others experienced less. None of us want to catch the attention of the staff. They have no consequences, whereas if we deny them what they want–”

Her hand covered his mouth to cut off his words, but her heart continued to ache at the way Machiavelli walked away from her. An unfamiliar ache began for him, Draven, and all the others. It angered her that anyone took advantage of them. “I’m so sorry, Draven.” She continued to watch his eyes. “Is that why he reacted that way? Could he believe I would?” Her stomach churned, and she refused to voice the rest of her question.

“I don’t know, Violet, but none of us trust easily.” Draven watched her as he kept his voice calm. “Can you tell me why you reacted to him the way you did?”

She stepped back from Draven and considered the two times she met Machiavelli. “I–I’m not sure. Yesterday, I was drawn to him, but today. It doesn’t make sense.” Her voice dropped to a whisper she wasn’t sure he heard. “I don’t want any of you to think I want to use or hurt you.”Especially not Machiavelli. She couldn’t force those words past her lips.

Draven watched her for a moment before he touched her hand gently. “I think it best that you stay away from the soldiers for a little while.”

That hurt her on a level she didn’t know existed until she considered not seeing Machiavelli again. It nearly crushed her, but she could only nod as more tears slipped down her cheeks. She turned away from him and wiped the tears from her eyes as she pulled herself together. “I have enough samples to start the work Renfield expects from me, so I’ll work with those.” It was the best she could do. “Thank you, Draven. I’m sure you have other duties to attend to.”

“Violet, I didn’t mean to upset you.” He dropped his eyes while his body tensed.

Before Draven left, Violet reached out to him. “I’m not upset with you. Last night, I didn’t sleep well, and now–” Her breath caught in her chest. “I’m just a mess. I need to be alone so I can function, but you’re not in trouble. Never with me.” He visibly relaxed in front of her. “I’m not like the others, I promise. I’m going to find a way to help all of you.”

He gave her a slight smile but remained silent as he left the lab. She didn’t know if he believed her or not, but she didn’t make that promise lightly. After her interaction with Machiavelli and Draven‘s disturbing words, she was determined to free them.

Alone in her lab, she walked over to the sink and splashed cold water on her face. It was a good thing she didn’t wear makeup this morning. Otherwise, her mascara would have run down her face when she cried. She didn’t want to provide the staff with any reason to punish Draven or any of the soldiers. Her eyes closed as she took several deep breaths to steady herself. When her body stopped trembling, she opened her eyes.

Renfield would suspect something if she didn’t begin any tests. The consequences would be dire if he believed her incompetent or figured out that she planned to betray him. After everything she had seen so far, she doubted that would live another free day. She might as well earn the consequences. With genetic proof of shifters, no one could deny their existence, which meant the facility would have to undergo an evaluation.

As Mac headed down the hallway, he heard Dr. Morris’ voice in his head again. The interaction from earlier left him perplexed. He never spoke his name to anyone before. It left him with a troubled decision to inform Renfield of the interaction. A major part of him didn’t want the other doctor to know about the blonde woman.

He kept his pace steady as he hiked up the stairs. Dr. Renfield’s office wasn’t far. The soldier’s mind went over every detail to relay to the doctor. He paused when he caught the soft floral fragrance. It was Violet’s.Dr. Morris.He warred with himself to continue on his mission, but the shifter didn’t move.

Mac followed his nose to a steel door with the name Dr. Morris on the placard. He took in the floral scent before he walked away. That was his intention until his hand touched the doorknob. He opened it and noticed the blonde woman alone in the laboratory.Leave.His feet carried him into the room.

When Violet heard the door open, she expected it to be Draven until she turned. Her hand went to her chest in surprise as she took in 007’s presence.Machiavelli.His name rang through her mind as every instinct within her demanded she cross the lab to him. “Hi?” She forced herself to remain rooted in her spot. It didn’t matter what her instincts were. She couldn’t cross a line with him.

None of the shifters were there of their own volition. They treated the shifters like lab rats or prisoners. “Did you need something?” Her voice dropped to a whisper, afraid to spook him after the way he almost ran from her a few hours ago.

Yes.“Apologies, I entered the wrong room,” Mac answered. He stopped at a steel table and observed every flask like it was titanium. When she moved in her chair, a slight squeak brought his attention back to her. “Am I interrupting you?”Say yes, so I can leave.

“No.” She watched him as she gripped the edge of the table to keep her in place. “I would offer to help you find the room you wanted, but I only know where my lab is.” The smile on her face felt unnatural while she tried not to stare at him. Her knee bounced as her nerves grew. “I’m waiting for some results. It could take a few hours, but I can’t leave my lab.”

“So, you have nothing else to do?” Mac bit the inside of his cheek to prevent further words from vomiting out. He needed to see Renfield, yet the jaguar wanted to remain in the room that smelled of flowers.Tell her goodbye and leave the room.Logic escaped him.

As he cleared his throat, he grabbed one of the empty flasks and showed it to her. “What is your primary job here in the facility?”

“Not unless 002 arrives to escort me to my dorm.” She pulled a candy from the pocket of her lab coat and unwrapped it methodically. “I’m a geneticist.” When he didn’t appear to understand the word, she popped the piece of candy into her mouth and explained.

“Our bodies have codes. Those codes determine our eye color and skin color. Everything about us, except personality. That’s a debate within the genetics community still. They hired me to find the genes that made soldiers who they are, except I didn’t know any of you were shifters. Or here against your wills.” Her eyes dropped as a pang of guilt almost choked her.

Mac set the flask down. “I believe you may have answered your question. A shifter is an animal. A beast with no control.” His voice became devoid of emotion as he remembered his training from childhood. “We must deny the animal side of ourselves. Our personality can be one as long as we are broken down and built again.”

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