“You’re swimming with a terrifying double-fanged beast like myself,” I say, grinning. “Naked. Quite aware of the fact my cock is filled with voodoo venom. And you’re smiling. Brave, Whisper. So brave.”
“In one of the books I read, the beast was the hero.” She bats her wet lashes. “And the heroine loved books.”
“Sounds like a good tale.”
“One of my favorites.”
“I’m sorry to say the only books we have here are instruction manuals. And…” I fight a grin. “Others.”
“What others?”
“Well, one in particular.”
“What’s it about?”
“Mating.” My cock jolts, brushing against her thigh.
“I think I’d like to read it.” She sighs. “If we can ever find me a pair of glasses. Maybe you’ll have to read it to me.”
If we keep talking, I won’t propose reading it to her. I’ll suggest a one-on-one instruction of every rekking thing I’ve learned in that book. One that requires the use of not one, but all of the contraptions Jareth designed.
“Let’s take care of one thing at a time,” I rumble. “Hold your breath again. It’s deep here.”
We both suck in a deep breath and then head down. It’s dark, but as we near the bottom, it’s illuminated by the haxagranules. As soon as we reach them, I show Quinn how to scoop them into the canister. We quickly fill the bins and head back up to the air pocket.
Her chest rises and falls, drawing my eyes to her breasts as she catches her breath.
“We’re going to need a lot of this for what I have planned,” I tell her. “It’s going to take several trips.”
“I can do this,” she assures me, her blue eyes glinting with determination.
“I have no doubt.”
It takes eleven trips before I’m satisfied with the heaping pile of haxagranules on the side of the underground wells. They glitter brilliantly. Both Quinn and I are spent from the strenuous activity.
“What are you going to do with all of that?” she asks, waving at the pile.
“I’m going to melt it down and create a conductor big enough to harness the power of the sun’s rays so I can redirect it to the enemy.” I make an exploding impression with my hands, complete with sound effects.
“That’s clever,” she praises. “I’m no scientist, but I’ve read books on this idea. It’s worth a try.”
To me, it’s not science, but logic. It makes sense in my nog, and I’m eager to implement it.
“It will work,” I assure her. “You’ll see.”
She smiles at me, her blue eyes squinting as if she’s trying to see me. I slide closer to her until our thighs touch. I lean in, pressing my nog against hers so that our eyes are close.
“Better?”
“Yes. I can see you now.”
I like her this close because I can smell her. The water did nothing to cleanse away her sweet scent. My mouth waters to taste her. Her lips parts, and I don’t think I mistake the unspoken request for a kiss. I know all about the kisses these humans are so fond of. I’m about to gift her this kiss when I hear it.
Clitter-clitter-clitter.
Legaloct.
“Stay here,” I command, sliding out of the water as though I’m on a hunt for a sabrevipe. Stealthy. Quiet. Swift. I snag up her zuta-metal tool she used to tie her hair up, pleased to see the bladed tip, and prowl toward the beast.
I mimic the clittering sound it makes, hoping to lure it out into the open. When I see a flash of yellow, I stalk after it. The water splashes behind me and then soft footsteps approach.
“What is it?”
“A legaloct. Good eating. Shhh.”
Gentle fingertips brush down my spine, distracting me from the hunt. “Don’t kill it, Oz.”
And just like that, she’s spared the useless creature’s life.
“It’s damaged anyway,” I utter, noticing one of its spindly legs is missing. “Probably tastes like rogshite.”
“Is it harmful?”
“No.”
“Can I hold it?”
I’d rather eat it, but she seems so hopeful and happy. The same expression Molly gets when she looks at her rekking rogcow. As though it’s a “pet.” Humans have the strangest customs. Keeping food as company and calling it a pet is one of them.
“Let’s put on our suits and then you can help me catch it.”
3
Quinn
Twelve Solars Left
“Crap on a cracker, darlin’, what in the Sam hell is that?” Molly screeches the next morning as I enter the cafeteria intent on breakfast. I’d been so overwhelmed the day before that I hadn’t had much of a stomach to eat anything after the caves.
I dip my chin down to glance at the creature sitting contentedly on my shoulder. He isn’t very pretty, but we’ve gotten to know each other over the past twelve hours and already I feel better about my decision to take this new turn in my life with a positive attitude.
“His name is Legolas. He’s like an alien spider, except he only has seven legs. Isn’t he adorable?” I take my tray of food and, walking slowly as not to bump into anything, sit next to the girls, determined to get to know them and better understand my new circumstances.