If I waswrong, I’m pretty sure he’d mock me about it. So, that’s something.
He faces away from me, doing something I can’t see on the counter—or, well, the taut panel of webbing that serves the same function as a counter.
“You seemed excited to tell me why you were here,” he says coolly.
“Is that an invitation?”
“Do you usually require one?”
Since he can’t see me, I narrow my eyes and stick out my tongue.Fuck you. But I have to stay focused.
“I’m here to make a deal,” I say. “You people are all about deals, right?”
“Hm. That’s funny.”
“What?”
“You said, ‘You people.’ Not, ‘You monsters.’” That’s a nuance the auto-translators would have smoothed over, so it catches me off-guard.
I shrug. “I’ve met a lot of monsters. They all only have two eyes.”
He glances over his shoulder with a brow raised. “Alright. What are the terms of this deal you desire?”
“I want to do the thing you all are so obsessed with. Become a… hucow or whatever you call them.” The word was usually whispered. The humans sent to this planet by the ICSS’s matching system were treated with a mix of pity and jealousy. Never working another day in your life was a pretty sweet gig. Becoming a mindless livestock animal… that was another thing entirely.
But maybe the stories were exaggerated. That was the thing—nobody ever requested a transfer off of Zairion Prime. The ISCC never sent anyone with strong attachments there, so it was never anybody you knew well enough to check in on. Always that girl you bumped into in the cafeteria once, or that quiet guy who kept to himself.
Buteveryother designation came with at leastsomereassignments. The system wasn’t perfect—or, perhaps it was more accurate to say that humans were fickle.
That everyone sent to Zairion Prime stays ‘without complaint’… It’s suspicious.Extremelysuspicious.
So of course I’ve waltzed not just into the lion’s den, but down the damn lion’s throat.
There’s atinkof metal against ceramic. “I’m afraid you’ve come to the wrong place. There are no sanctioned clinics on this side of the river.”
“Who needs a sanctioned clinic when I have you? Or—don’t tell me you’re impotent.”
“Hah.” His amused smile flashes his fangs. Then his laugh deepens, and the rich sound skitters down my spine as those fangs bead with dark violet venom.
I shudder, fighting primal fear. Iwon’tbe intimidated, and Iwillbe taken seriously.
While bundled up like a kid trapped in their own sleeping bag.
His laugh ends in a quiet, pleased sigh. “I assure you. My potency is of no issue.”
“Great. Then you bite me, I make milk for you, everybody’s happy.”
His smooth smile doesn’t falter. Eight glossy black eyes remain unblinking. “Don’t waste my time. State your condition.”
“What condition?”
That doesn’t get any reaction out of him.
I click my tongue and shrug as much as I can in my silk bindings. “I don’t want anything else. Well… I guess there’s onetinything, but it’s really more of a formality…”
“Speak.”
The casual command in his voice momentarily short-circuits my brain.
