Alien Freak - Calista Skye Page 0,10

himself and our entire species along with him.”

I sigh. “There won’t be a species left anyway if I never procreate with some female. And right now I absolutely intend to procreate with the one in the cargo bay.”

“Then leave me here,” Grandmother sniffs. “The thought is bad enough. I don’t need the full visuals, too.”

“Then you can enjoy the full visuals of hyperspace, instead.” I gently put the housing on the control panel right behind the main viewport and stand up.

“Oh yeah. That takes me back,” Grandmother sighs comfortably. “You know, your grandfather and I travelled a lot in space when we were young. Just like this. And as it turns out, that swirling hyperspace pattern is a pretty good background for a long, hard mating session—”

“Yes, yes,” I cut her off. “I’m aware that you and he enjoyed that. You remind me every chance you get. And now I hope to enjoy it, too. It has been a while.”

I stride over to the elevator and zip down to my cabin. First a quick ultrashower, then I get into a fresh pair of pants, experiencing some trouble closing it because of the arousal and its physiological effects.

Then I’m ready. I’m not quite shaking with anticipation, but it’s not far from it.

I take the elevator to the hold.

And freeze.

She’s not in her cage and nowhere in sight. Then she must be—

I whirl around and am met by a hard whack across the face.

For a moment I stagger backwards, bright stars dancing in front of my eyes. Then my instincts kick in and my body strikes the assailant in the most effective way it knows.

My fangs sink into soft flesh, and before I can regain control, the glands pulsate as they spray deadly venom into the female.

Horrified, I pull back. The powerful spray of clear fluid hits the wall and the floor before the fangs retract.

But it’s too late. She has two red pinpricks on her shoulder.

She looks at it, then up at me, eyes big and round. “Di yu jus byde mi?!”

“Did you just bite me?” her device translates.

Then she collapses to the floor and the baton rolls away.

“God of Fate!” I curse and bend down to lift her in my arms. The elevator takes us up to the control room.

“Grandmother!” I bark. “What do I do? She’s got venom in her!”

“What?” Grandmother squeaks. “Did you bite her?”

I place the alien on the metal deck. “It was an accident. She attacked me.”

Her eyes are closed. I wish I knew more about her species.

“Well, then I hope you got some pleasure from her first, because nothing can save her now. She must be dead already.”

I check her vital signs, as far as I can figure them out. “She breathes. There’s a heartbeat. What do I do?”

“Nothing. She’ll die,” Grandmother calmly says. “Nobody can survive our venom. It’s the kind of thing you should have learned at age two, Zaroc.”

“Yes, yes! I know. Of course I know. But surely, there must be a cure. A way to slow it down!”

“There isn’t. Never has been. When you bite someone, they die in seconds. Useful in wars and when hunting, less so when striking an alien female you want to mate with. All things that someone should have told you the second your fangs grew in, twenty years ago. In fact I’m pretty sure I told you myself. Repeatedly.”

I look at the alien face. Such a beauty!

“No!” I bounce up, rush to a console, and begin searching it, throwing things around me. “A medical kit. Something! There wasn’t much venom, I stopped it right away.”

“With a creature this small, it doesn’t matter how little you sprayed into her,” Grandmother patiently explains. “A microscopic amount would be enough. And nothing about you is microscopic, Zaroc.”

I find nothing and switch to another console. It breaks and comes off the deck in my arms, and I throw it at the wall in frustration. “Why aren’t there diagnostic kits in this blasted wreck? It should be required by law!”

“It is required, and it doesn’t matter. Calm down before you tear the ship apart. That female must be dead now.”

“She’s not any female,” I bark. “She’s my female.”

I kneel down beside her again. The two holes where my fangs punctured her skin have faded and can’t be seen. And…

“She breathes,” I whisper. “Her heart beats.”

“Still?” Grandmother asks, incredulous. “It must have been minutes. Either she comes from a hardy species, or she has some kind of after-death reflex we’re unaware