Page 30 of The Jaguar's Flower

“You have died. Accept it, and this goes smoothly.” His voice was devoid of emotion as he spoke. The scythe rested on Whisper’s shoulder and spun within his grip. Slowly, his head swiveled, but the cowl that covered it never moved. Somewhere close, he felt another reaper.

Never were two assigned the same soul by Hades, so Whisper wondered if he lost the final shreds of his sanity. Then, just as quickly as the sensation wriggled its way down his spine, it vanished again. His attention returned to the male shifter, who had not bothered to move or speak. Whisper stepped closer.

Confusion continued to curl through the shifter. Whisper read the emotions within the soul just as the shifter could have smelled the same if he were still among the living. Rather than speak to the soul again, he raised his scythe. Swinging the weapon, Whisper watched as though bored as the scythe touched the soul.

The instant the two connected, the soul disappeared within the blade. Not every reaper knew that trick. No manual came with the scythe when Hades turned them into reapers, and there was no training program. They either figured it out on their own, or Hades made them regret their lives and deaths.

With the soul ready for transport, Whisper prepared to visit the Underworld so he could deposit the soul for judgment. Before he took another breath, he felt waves of sorrow and rage so intense they almost knocked him off his feet.

Curiosity drew him to follow the waves to their source. Something died. He was certain, but there was more. In his nearly five hundred years, Whisper never felt anything that intense come from a soul.

Pain wrapped around Violet like a blanket. It engulfed her and threatened to choke every speck of air from her lungs. Screams echoed inside her mind, but she couldn’t find the strength to open her mouth in order to release them. Not even her eyes would open.

Unconsciousness was not supposed to hurt. She shouldn’t feel like she was in Hell’s Fires, either. No, it was supposed to bring blessed peace, yet she received no peace since the moment Renfield injected her with the unknown substance. Every sensation intensified. The slide of the air across her bare skin or the brush of her clothes brought the most brutal of pain.

A voice or voices broke through the screams trapped inside Violet’s mind. None of the words made sense. If they spoke Latin, she would have been able to understand them better.Please, make the pain stop.The thought ebbed its way through her mind among the screams. The voice finally made sense to her.

“I failed.” William’s familiar voice greeted her ears. A moment later, she felt him leave her side.

No!Violet tried to scream, but her mouth and throat refused to cooperate.I’m NOT dead! Don’t leave me.A stray tear slipped down her cheek, but she doubted he noticed. She felt his presence fade away. Part of her mind curled in on itself, not wanting to be left alone again.

She lost the strange comfort that came with the knowledge she didn’t have to deal with the pain alone. A bleakness settled over her until she was ready to give in and let the pain have her. Fighting it became impossible.

Appearing near a truck, Whisper tilted his head as he watched the bed of the truck. In his many years of service, he’d collected a multitude of souls from various species that called the human plane home.

He didn’t know the species of the being within the bed of the truck, nor could he tell if the female lived or died. The essence of the soul floated around the body but did not truly separate itself. This was unlike anything he witnessed before. With a thought, his scroll appeared in his hand.

The shifter was listed, but this female was not. Only one female soul was meant for his collection within the hour, which he passed it off to another reaper. It was his turn to be confused as he moved closer. Logically, Whisper knew he should leave this place, this female. If she were to die, her soul was not his to collect, but the unknown intrigued him.

Another presence approached, but it differed from William’s. Somehow, it felt darker. Violet couldn’t describe it. The closer it drew, the darker it felt, but the pain also diminished by increments. The presence left her torn on whether she wanted it to leave or draw closer. That darkness frightened her, while the lessened pain brought an end to the screams.

After so long, nothing should surprise him about the dead. The swirling essence was so foreign to him his fingers twitched with the desire to reach out and touch it. Perhaps this was a hallucination brought on because he finally reached his mental snapping point. It was another unknown, but he was not prepared to leave the female without knowing.

Hesitating, Whisper finally reached out and touched the blue hair of the female. It was not a natural color among any of the species that took humanoid forms. That color came from chemicals, but it did not feel like she treated her hair with anything so harsh. Her lips were almost the same color as her hair, but the color was not painted on.

Mac thought he lost the creature the moment it fled in a vehicle. Violet’s floral fragrance hung in the air. That became his fixation as he followed, hoping to find her. He kept his sidearm in his grip as he cut through the bayou and climbed over the security fence. How long had it been since he was outside of the facility?

Putrid odors assaulted his nose as the sun continued to heat the damp air. He caught her fragrance again, but something about it twisted his stomach. As he reached the location, he spotted someone else next to a truck.

A dark-skinned man stood tall with a beard and a cowl that covered his head. He stood as tall as Mac, but terror crept in when he noticed the man’s eyes. The stranger wore a black robe, and a scythe relaxed over his shoulder. He appeared unbothered by Mac.

Violet’s fragrance grew stronger so did the smell of death. Mac growled low as he took aim with his sidearm, ready to fire.

The sound of a growl intruded on Whisper’s thoughts as he noticed another shifter. He felt the essence of the soul attempt to reach out to the shifter. “She is near death. You either need to come with me and see that she survives. Or allow me to take her so that she may find her peace.”

“Is this a trap?” Mac stepped forward. The stranger didn’t flinch at the sight of the gun or move an inch. “What are you?” He demanded answers as he moved toward Violet until he stood between them.

“Your weapon will do little more than piss me off.” Whisper pushed the cowl back from his head to gaze upon the shifter. The essence of the female stretched and seeped closer to him. “I am a reaper. She is near death, yet she reaches for you.” Whisper’s fingers gripped the handle of his scythe. “I have no reason to use traps, as none can escape a reaper.” When his hold tightened on the scythe, he watched the essence surround the male as though to protect him.Strange. There was nothing typical of this scenario.

The longer he watched, the more curious he became. This was not his soul to reap, but he had not sensed another reaper near since the other’s disappearance. “You are connected to her soul. Deny or accept. I don’t care. However, if something is not done, her soul will be lost.”

What the reaper asked for seemed impossible to Mac. How could he trust the reaper? As warmth wrapped around him, the scent of flowers calmed him. He lowered his gun as he nodded at Violet. “You can save her?” He swallowed hard.

“It is not up to me for a soul to live or die.” Whisper’s eyes lingered on the shifter. “Lift her body, and I will take you to a place that will decide both of your fates. Either she will live, or you may live knowing you did all that you could.”

He sensed the connection between the two, but it should be impossible. The longer he watched the soul, the more he realized what she was. That species died out long ago. The soul’s essence as it clung to the shifter as though the world’s fate depended upon it.

It’s up to her to live?Mac remembered his brother and how he chose to die instead. The guilt he carried in his heart almost crumbled him as he kept his attention on Violet. What if she left as well? What if he couldn’t do anything to keep her here?

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