"I know."

"I know," Louisa says. Your eyes widen in horror as your friend's skin reddens and horns sprout from her head. A clawed hand seizes you by the wrist and another grabbs you by the throat, pulling you onto the bed. "I really should turn you over for conversion," the demon says, "but I think I deserve a little fun first." She pulls her would-be rescuer closer and kisses you roughly, forcing a supernaturally long tongue down your throat.

You bite down hard, drawing ichor, and pull back, but the demon won't loosen its grip on your wrist.

"Feisty," Louisa says, flipping you over and forcing a red leg between your amber-toned limbs and pressing its thigh against your pussy. "And brave, coming to rescue me like this. A few hours ago I'd have been so grateful."

You understand immediately. "The treatment," you say bitterly.

"The treatments," Louisa corrects, smirking. "It takes three to fully suppress the immune system. You're so pure and heroic, I wish I could destroy that here and now, but you're not quite cooked yet."