Beth awoke slowly. Her head ached. She covered her face with her arm but the stale sweat and spent sex smell of her skin made her nauseous. She settled for burying further into the downy pillow.

    God. What a hangover! She struggled to trace the activities — which bar, which after-hours club, and which man — that had left her so sick.

    Movement beside her announced her bed-partner — whoever he was — hadn't left and would expect breakfast. She'd send him downstairs to the bakery for croissants to go with hot chocolate. Her stomach roiled then calmed with her planning.

    Her head! She wouldn't feel better until she showered and ate and took a couple of painkillers, but lethargy kept her fastened to the bed. Cozy, velvety warmth enveloped her. She felt a pressure on her rump and squirmed slightly as a hand caressed her flank and side, coming to rest cupping her breast. The unmistakable prod of a morning-after hard-on sought access to her inner thighs.

    “No. My head hurts.” She pushed the relentless hand away. “I need some aspirin…” She rolled to face her lover, squinting.

    Her words trickled off as the where and when and what and who came crashing back. The alien intoxicant had been powerful and the males ravenous for her — a shared appetite. Beth cringed at the memory of how accommodating she had been, and tried to regain her dreams of home by shutting her eyes and rediscovering her dreams.

    The Yeter lifted her from the snug nest of sleeping Jibarae. The younger one, who had obligingly served as her pillow, stretched and rolled to a more comfortable position.

    The hunter sniffed at her neck and propelled her into the confines of the shower enclosure. He angled the spray to drench her; nearly drowning her as the water filled her mouth, rinsing away more aftertastes than bore thinking about. Cleanser in the lukewarm water was mild and silky on her skin. Her captor scrubbed lightly everywhere. His hand parted her thighs and his thumb slipped into her. The touch, though gentle for him, caused the abused folds to burn. She winced and tried to pull away but he persisted until she settled down.

    “There, Seba. You smell better.” He lapped the water from her neck. She rested her head against the cool bulkhead as his penis parted her sore flesh. The water trickling between their bodies cooled the worst of it and she sighed her relief.

    At some point the soreness and headache dissolved into passion. Her ragged syllables of pleasure echoed back from the walls, mocking her, as the Yeter found the perfect rhythm and she surrendered again to his mastery of her responses.

    When his spasms had stopped, he held her snugly for a moment before releasing her. “I will miss this,” he said.

    His tone startled her, almost wistful. She looked a question. He laughed.

    “This is the last time, my pretty one. The Jibarae will employ your talents now.”

    Whirling, Beth slammed her fist into his nose, followed by a downward blow to his groin. The yelp of his pain told her attack had the desired effect. He caught her by the neck and jerked upwards, pinning her to the shower wall.

    She kicked and connected but, other than a grunt, the Yeter didn't react more than an increase in the ferocity of his scowl.

    The panel opened and the younger Jibar shook the hunter's shoulder and whispered an urgent-sounding message. Beth felt the subtle relaxing of the fingers on her neck and, suddenly released, she fell to the floor.

    “You son-of-a-bitch!” she gasped. “I saved your fucking life and you repay me by passing me along, like I'm some kind of toy you've grown bored of.”

    “Bored? No, but I cannot take you with me. I will honor my obligation by not killing you.” He turned away.

    “Our deal was that I'd obey and you wouldn't kill me.”

    The two Jibarae gestured at each other and the younger one tried to shush Beth, tapping her lips gently. How much they understood was questionable, but the fury of the exchange was obvious to anyone with ears.

    “I fulfilled my end. But now you are reneging on your debt.”

    The Yeter whirled, eyes narrowed and angry. In two steps he had crossed the chamber and pulled her standing by her hair. He snarled into her face. Defiantly, she glared back.

    “Kill me, you bastard. Or take me home. Otherwise, you still owe me your life.”

    Why, when he had complete power over her life, had she attempted to bargain for more? Why hadn't he merely walked away, letting her accusation fall on deaf ears? If she was just a commodity to be bought and sold or gifted away, why did her words matter? Later, she would consider these questions and try to find answers. But, at the moment, she was simply as angry as she had ever been.

    Beth would never know if it was her unrepentant bravado or his strange sense of honor that decided the moment.

    The Yeter looked away first. Beth's hope soared. She was right and he had acknowledged by default.

    The hunter sniffed the hair in his hand and his face, eyes glazed with distant musings, became thoughtful. His other hand stroked the skin on her belly in a mindless rhythm.

    Finally, he met her eyes. “I believe I repaid my debt by not taking you back.” He shook his head as she began to argue. “But you may never understand my kindness in this. So, I will honor you in another way.”

    Kindness? She snorted but he ignored her contempt.

    He released her hair, and licked the damp from his hand. “You wish revenge on me?”

    She nodded, wondering what he had thought up. He chuckled at his own cleverness.

    “Then I will make it far easier for you to find me when the time comes. My name is A'tan Dystat.” He turned away and waited silently while his guests gathered their belongings, old and new, and slipped through the silking.

    She accompanied the Jibarae to their ship without a fight. A'tan hadn't looked at her again.