Compile:Quest

Chapter 11: Subduing Clover

Lambent Laboratories, Cell 3,

Africa Dome

Jasper nursed the burn wound on his hand, his teeth gritted against its throbbing pain. He glared at the woman. Her lips twisted into a snarl, the effect only slightly spoiled by exhausted panting.

"That wasn't necessary," Jasper said, attempting calm. "I'm only trying to help."

Her dark hair framed a tear-streaked face, its expression immutable.

"Stand back," Jasper warned, lifting his hand.

She made a strangled sound in the back of her throat, her fingers hooking into claws.

"Stop fighting it, Clover."

Clover's hands uncurled and she dropped to her knees, energy depleted. Sobs racked her body as she sprawled on the floor. Jasper stepped forward, one hand still raised.

"That's my girl," he murmured.

He was beside her when his earbuds beeped. Clover's head tipped up, her wild eyes fixing on him.

Jasper had time for a single breath. Then he lunged at her. His left hand shot out from behind his back, clutching a syringe. Clover howled and tried darting back. He caught hold of her hair, dragging her to a halt. The syringe plunged into the woman's neck. Her struggles abated.

Releasing her, Jasper sat on his haunches with a sigh, tucking the syringe into his pocket and wiping his forehead with a handkerchief. He opened his weConnect console, fumbling with the menu to open the message he'd received.

"I have to go," he whispered to the comatose woman, giving her limp shoulder an amiable pat.

Jasper straightened his back, wincing as a stray vertebrae clicked into place. He glanced down at the woman, shaking his head. Clover's matted hair hid most her face. It was a mercy — she'd been trapped in a fire a few years ago. Skin grafts might have aided her restoration, but he'd never bothered to submit a request for the operation. It wouldn't have been approved, anyway.

Perhaps the reason for her breakdown today was that she'd managed to catch sight of herself. He glanced around the room. Unlikely. Since that day, Clover would go into a lather if she spotted her own reflection. This was one of the reasons her apartment held only padded, matte surfaces.

Jasper knelt, frowning. He tilted the woman's slack arm toward him. A needle? His thumb brushed the tiny puncture wound on her inner elbow.

Another beep in his ears. He had more important matters to attend to. Jasper rubbed at the burn on his hand as he made his way down the corridor. His thoughts were so engrossed in Clover's regression that he was halfway across the floor of the foyer before he saw the girl.

She pirouetted to face him and Jasper's heart gave a sickening thud.

The young girl blinked owlishly at him, her blue-green eyes vivid against her fair skin. Her mouth parted at the sight of him. The smile he had effected for their meeting solidified.

He swung to Apple. "This is her?"

The receptionist glanced up at him with a faint smile. "Yes."

"But she's so..." The girl's stare interrupted him.

He cleared his throat and forced his smile to thaw. Jasper strode forward and stuck out his hand.

"It's good to meet you, Peppermint. My name is Jasper."

. . .