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Chapter Seven

Ferry Ferry Little Snake

Tate

One week later…

“You think she’s going to show up?”

Chase begins to fidget, a fucking bundle of nerves, eager to get on with the partying and his sex fantasies that I’m sure are plenty. This is his element, and I’m about to begrudgingly live in it.

I look at him, he’s wearing a white, sheer camisole clinging to his skin, leaving his chest exposed, the flower and wolf tattoos on his peck on full display — his golden skin is shimmering from whatever glitter he smeared across his skin.

“You look like one of the Cullens.”

“A Cullen? Like Twilight?”

His brows pinch together and he scrunches his nose, tussling his chestnut waves as he inspects his outfit.

With a scoff, he replies, “Dude, I have way better style.”

I couldn’t help the smirk tugging at my lips, watching him in his element. It’s not like I didn’t give a fuck about the man who’s been my best friend... My partner.

But I also grieve…

Because I know a part of us is missing.

What we complete… is not for us to obtain, and that makes me resent her more.

“You know, I know what you’re trying to do?” He opens his arms and shrugs.

“And what is that?”

I bend down, grabbing my black duffel bag and place it on top of Chase’s big ass, neon green fucking suitcase. Why he needs so much shit for a weekend is beyond me. I try not to think about Cordelia, or how she, once again, is going to play us in our face.

Maybe Chase is right, I just need to accept it.

However my ego is bigger than my love, I guess.

I just can’t submit to something fleeting… so painfully selfish and greedy. Her ambitions would one day overlook her love and destroy me because I know I would let her consume me.

Deep down she has already started… like a parasite .

She has spread through me, and it’s been impossible to cut down. Nothing works, so I drown in work to ignore my aching heart. I look at Chase, and I know behind the smile, he’s hiding disappointment, but before I can reply.

“Can you carry my bag?” My parasitic little snake demands behind me.

The sound of her raspy, feminine voice is like music to my ears, adrenaline to my system, and an aphrodisiac to my cock. Chase’s smile is wide as he casually walks towards her, trying to hide his excitement, but we see it.

The tension and happiness he walks with.

“Cordy,” he says, sounding like a kid excited to see his dad return from grabbing the milk, or at least I think that’s how they would sound. Not that I would know, my dad never came back.

I look over my shoulder, trying to act dismissive of her presence while my heart beats in my chest.

I fucking hate the way her skin glows under the sun. Her light pink dress stops right at her thick thighs, contrasting the golden hue of her skin, and her long tendrils are placed in a messy bun above her head.

She is as casual as she can get and still fucking breathtaking without any effort. Like everything in her fucking life, even beauty was bestowed upon her.

I hate how aware I am of Cordelia. She’s not just a pretty face—she’s a mind I want to devour. That intelligent beautiful brain of hers, I want to pluck it from her sexy ass body and consume it.

After all, we are one in the same.

And that makes me hate her more.

Our eyes remain on each other, those beautiful, glistening blue eyes that shimmer, making me drown and fall at the same time. I wonder if that’s how Chase feels, if that’s why he doesn’t fight it. The party ferry horn blares, causing the trance to break, and I focus on the large boat in the water.

Something tightens in my stomach, something too close to feeling like a warning.

“Y’all ready to have some fun?” Chase says as he walks past me, carting Cordelia’s luggage. And I wonder, why the fuck do I have to carry his shit if he’s already like a needy puppy sucking up his neglectful owner’s ass.

“I’m ready to relax and soak up the sun,” Cordelia chimes in while walking next to me, texting away.

“Must be so hard being a complete bitch.”

My comment doesn’t faze her. Over her heart shaped sunglasses, I can see the smile.

I fucking hate it.

“It is actually quite hard. You of all people should know. Also, I graded your thesis, an interesting take on connection.”

My eyes widen, but before I can respond, she’s ahead of me, leaching off Chase, like the leech that she is. Still my eyes focus on the sway of her hips, and the small jiggle of her ass.

My dick twitches in response and guess what?

I hate that too.

For a moment I wonder what Cordy is thinking? Is she planning her next move? Planting her spores in my fucking brain while I’m still drowning in the last one.

I suck in my teeth.

Why did the professor let her grade my paper?

Anger bubbles beneath my skin. It’s been days since our little adventure in the garden,but it was a good paper. Having her stamp of approval, no matter how much I wanted to deny it, brought me joy.

Because it means I was onto something…

After all, it was her obsession with giving the mycelium a will, not just to spread, but to connect. Walking towards the ramp to board the ferry, I get lost in my thoughts of the night it all started.

First year of college-

Cordelia bounces on Chase’s cock while I try to make the connections.

The sound of her wet thighs slapping against him fills the dorm.

Their ragged breathing and soft moans become the background music–while I sit in front of the glass container with the ants, high as shit, and still have gotten nowhere.

Half of them died–the other mindless, searching to infect.

Not connected.

I needed to make the fungi network rewire. They weren’t aware of anything. No connection. But I needed to figure out how to link psilocybe cyanescens to cordyceps militaris without triggering host death. To create a network that didn’t spread blindly, but thought.

A true hive–one that chooses symbiosis over slaughter. But I was getting nowhere. Chase groans as he pounds harder into Cordy causing her to scream out.

“You’re too focused on keeping them alive,” Cordelia says as if she can hear my thoughts. Even while being fucked, she still notices me.

“That’s the entire point of establishing a connection,” I mutter as she moans and pants, grinding herself down on him. Her body glistening with sweat, and he’s too drunk off her to notice we, once again, will begin to bicker.

Another reason we can’t work together–Cordelia wants evolution, but she just wants to burn it all down and be the catalyst to rebirth. I wanted something far more simple and even harder to achieve.

Connection.

“You’re so obsessed with that word,” she pants as she reaches her climax, pinching her nipples while sucking on her neck.

“And you’re so obsessed with evolution, like some God. But imagine if the fungi can create a hive-like mind. Instead of killing the host, they can achieve perfect symbiosis.”

Her head falls back, eyes meeting mine.

“I’m obsessed with it because it’s efficient. Parasites adapt by making the host think they need them. We want the same thing; call it symbiosis if you want, but survival always demands a price. You either evolve or get consumed.”

I push away and turn my attention to the debauchery in front of me, my dick instantly tenting my sweats.

“Maybe you should stop studying and get consumed,” Chase rasps out as he pulls out of her and she begins to suck his cock.

Maybe they are right...

Maybe my thesis is true, that our ego weakens us and this is why the hive works. No ego–just instinct and survival.

No love.

No betrayal.

But the more I think about it–sounds too much like fascism.

The warmth of Cordelia’s touch pulls me out of the memory like a spore snapping free.

“Are you high?” She asks. “You just stood there for a second.”

I shake her off with a grunt and stalk past her without a word and move toward Chase–who watches the ferry’s wake as if he’s waiting to be pulled under.