“Ike, whose idea do you think it was to leave us alone together? We already agreed that you’ll go to bed each night with Andria, but you’ll father all three of our families, just like they did during biblical times. Just think, your seed will birth a new nation.”

I had to smile. Like it or not, Jason Sloan had cast me in a polygamist’s version of Little House on the Prairie.

I stood, Lara leading me to her corner suite, the lizard egg aphrodisiac heating the circulation in my loins like a shot of Viagra.

*   *   *

ABE … time?

LOCAL TIME IS 4:17 P.M.

Hungover and groggy, I rolled out from Lara’s snuggle, only to discover the aftereffects of breakfast still lingering.

WARNING: EISENBRAUN SEX GLANDS ARE OVERDILATED AND SWOLLEN.

Reset my system before I poke myself in the eye. Climbing out of bed, I grabbed my sweat suit and running shoes, then shuffled, butt-naked, outside to shower.

A brisk rainwater drenching woke me up while ABE recirculated my pooled blood to my more vital organs. Hungry, I headed for the garden, hoping to find something more nourishing to eat.

Bella Maharaj had returned. The botanist was using a sharp piece of shale to prune what appeared to be a citrus tree, its baseball-size fruit a rich purple color.

“Any chance of sampling some of that?

She turned, staring at me with her indigo eyes. “I assume you are referring to the mangosteen.” She plucked one of the fruits, then sliced it in half, revealing its succulent white meat inside. “This is a hybrid of a popular specimen found in Thailand. Boil the peel in water and the elixir will alleviate an upset stomach, diarrhea, and dysentery.”

“Better give me a double.” I glanced in the direction of the cluster of oak trees along the southern rise. “Where’s Andria and Monique?”

“I prefer not to think about it.”

My heart raced. “They caught the three creatures?”

“Killed one, caught two. Listen…”

A long, sullen wail bled across the valley, torturing my soul.

Bella shook her head. “Before the night is done, all three will be dead.” Returning the tool to its homemade leather sheath, she offered me a wry smile. “So then, I suppose we are to couple.”

“Pencil me in for later!” Fleeing the garden, I cut through a field ripe with corn, the crop changing to a pear-shaped red squash by the time I reached the plateau. Panting heavily, I hurried through the tall grass, homing in on the sounds of the tormented creature.

Approaching the oak trees, I saw Monique. Drenched in sweat, my former supervisor was laboring to drag something heavy through the grass using a vine looped over her shoulder—the flattened path behind her streaked blue with cephaloped blood.

“Eisenbraun, good, you can earn your supper by dragging this monster back to the farm.”