Chapter Eleven

Nem

He leaves, and I touch my lips, where the taste of his venom is still heavy on my tongue.

“Goddamn it!” I snarl. The tip of my tongue brushes my fingertips, and I freeze.

I touch my tongue. Before it was unwieldy, wide, and thick. Now it’s razor thin and narrow with…

I hate him. I hate him so fucking much, I’d kill him now. If I could.

I didn’t notice it while kissing him; all I noticed was that I felt more of his tongue. I could reach all the way into the back of his mouth, wrap my tongue around his, and pull. I could do things I hadn’t done before.

The forked tips of what is now my tongue flick at my fingers. I wish to the god of anything that I had a mirror. But there’s no such thing in that pack. I have to get this venom out of me.

I spit and gag myself, getting as much of what I swallowed out on the ground. I scrape my tongue with my fingers. I need water to wash out my mouth.

Except we have none. We drank it all. And that cursed stream is what caused this whole problem.

No wonder my body changed in a matter of hours. I was so pumped full of his fluids from who knows how many times having sex that if a change was going to happen, it was going to be fast.

But it’s been such a short time. Maybe it’s possible to wash his toxins out of me. I’m desperate for any hope this isn’t permanent.

I rush to the pack of survival supplies, not caring that I’m still naked. Like I give a shit. I’m gold now anyway. Water is more important.

I grab the bottle and filter with one hand and the testing computer with the other and head for the stream.

He better not be nearby. I won’t touch him again, not even to hit him. I can’t shoot him because the blaster fueled him rather than injured him. Knives will just bounce off of him.

I have to figure out how to get rid of him.

Water first. I hope he’s off somewhere jerking off again, or finding something else to bite instead of me.

The stream bank is covered in vegetation, but the leaves only scratch me. I grumble under my breath and refuse to feel gratitude for my new natural armor.

The water flows slowly and is warm to the touch, but it’s clear and moving. I test a sample in the computer, and it contains no bacteria—only large quantities of the compound unique to this planet that permeates the air and causes this fever of desire, which even now I’m feeling rise in me again.

I fill the bottle with the clear liquid, then place the filter top on and wait.

The lasers in the filter light up the water a bright iridescent red. The filter excretes a dusty red residue, what I can only assume is the deposits of the desire compound.

I test the filtered water. Which is now 99 percent pure. Good enough.

I drink, first rinsing my mouth and spitting, then swallowing the rest. I filter and drink a second bottle, then fill a third to take with me.

I gather up the ground covering and blankets, forcing everything into the pack.

My white skin suit lies in a heap of tatters on the ground. I have no desire to put it on. But to go naked feels too barbaric. I may not need it for protection now, but if my skin does return to normal, I’ll want it. I wrap what’s left of the suit around my waist. It covers my ass and groin if nothing else. I buckle my weapons belt with my blaster over the top and pull on my boots.

I look down at my breasts. My nipples are now gold jewel-like points, still sensitive though, and with the heat of the day rising, the dull flames have returned to my veins.

I don’t know where Oten is. I’m ready to leave. I want to make progress before the sun gets higher and the feeling gets worse. I can’t be near him when it comes back. My own hand is my only source of relief now.

He doesn’t have water.

I shouldn’t care. I want him dead. He killed my crew. Destroyed my ship. Turned me into another species.

But for some reason, I can’t leave him without water.

I fill another bottle with filtered water and set it on the ground where our bed was. He can’t miss it.

I do it because I don’t want him to die of thirst—I want to kill him myself. That’s what I tell myself.

My ship, the surviving members of my crew, and Dr. Klearuh’s research are my goal. I have to find them. No orgasms from an enormous gold cock or fangs dripping in ecstasy will distract me today.

But it can’t stop me from thinking about them every step I take.