Blood of Eve (Trilogy of Eve 2)

The spray of a single shower head wasn’t big enough for the four of us. Jesse stood on the edge, completely unabashed with his nudity as he waited to rinse off.

He regarded me intently. “Are you still feeling overly-aroused?”

My clit throbbed at the gruffness in his voice. “Given the circumstances over the past month, I haven’t been. But now? I’m nursing a pretty big ache.”

Michio studied the other men for a long moment before looking down at me. No doubt he was thinking about pregnancy hormones and how Jesse and Roark had been on the receiving end of my libido.

I threaded soapy fingers through Michio’s hair, reacquainting myself with the thick texture. I tried not to stare at his hips, ridged with sharp edges and deep indentions, or the thin trail of dark hair that led from his abs to the black curls below, or his thick cock… I tried not to think about all the ways Elaine had violated him and hoped he would eventually let me replace bad memories with loving ones, one kiss at a time.

He gripped my waist, bringing our bodies closer, his thumbs stroking across my hips. “Are we done talking about the spiders?”

Jesse scratched the scruff of his jaw. “Just so I’m clear… When they bite, the venom programs the victim to bite and program other men and so on?”

“Until there’s no one left to bite,” I mumbled.

Behind me, Roark rose to his full height and tossed the bar of soap to Jesse, switching places with him. “Sounds like a race of mindless vampires with humans on the menu.”

“Not completely mindless.” Michio tilted his head back and rinsed. “They’re programmed to worship Allah, but with Aiman dead, they’re able to make decisions, think, and fight on their own, as long as the outcome serves Aiman’s purpose. They’ll pass on that programming to every man they bite. Women will be forced to breed with fertile men, then the spiders will bite those men, too, all in an effort to create Aiman’s chosen race. The present generation of women are immune to the programming, but their offspring are not.”

I met Michio’s eyes through the spray of the water. “Maybe the women will revolt?”

“Maybe. But they’re pregnant, which will restrict the risks they might be willing to take.” His eyes flicked to my stomach, a subtle glance, before returning to my face. “The babies in utero have already undergone Aiman’s programming. As new generations are conceived, the spiders will continue to bite the mothers, rendering them infertile while infecting the babies. Which means the newborns will be programmed like the others.”

The fucks were flying now, slipping under breaths as Jesse and Roark looked at one another.

Michio painted a future that put a hollowed-out species at the top of the food chain, one that worshiped a god without questioning their beliefs. A species void of freewill and inquisitiveness and everything that made humans human.

Since Michio had bitten me, would his venom program my baby? I didn’t think so since he was immune to the programming. But how would my daughter stop this from happening to others? Could she reverse the effects of the venom? Could she kill the creatures with a thought? Would her life be burdened with great suffering and difficulty as she fought to free mankind?

Jesse’s jaw hardened into stone. “When the prophecy referred to evolving creatures, it wasn’t talking about the aphids.”

“No.” Already knowing this didn’t stop the dread from festering in my gut.

Roark strode away, yanked a towel from the shelf, and wrapped it around his waist. “How do we find the women?”

“Follow the nymphs?” I trailed after him and grabbed a towel for myself, watching their expressions as I dried off.

“It’s a start.” Roark removed athletic shorts from the second bag and stepped into them, mumbling, “Fecking actual dirtball knoblicker doesn’t just die and leave us well alone. Oh no, he has to leave a mingin’ mess behind him.” He yanked the shorts to his waist and looked up. “When do we leave?”

Michio paused in his cleaning, and his eyes shot to mine, his thoughts as transparent as the water sluicing over his skin. As soon as Jesse and Roark learned I was pregnant, we wouldn’t be going anywhere. For safety reasons. And because the child in my womb held more answers than we’d find on the road.

I pulled on a pair of cotton shorts and a t-shirt. “If my blood is a vaccine, maybe we could start passing out vials, or clone it somehow?”

“Evie,” Michio growled. “You can’t.”

Because I couldn’t drain myself of the nourishment needed by my baby. Fuck.

Jesse strode to the bag and pulled out two pairs of sweatpants, tossing one to Michio. “It’s not a bad idea. We could draw her blood in small doses. We have electricity here to refrigerate it. Though I don’t know how we’d disperse it.”