What did she need him to do? Well, that was a loaded question. Her gaze lingered on him as the soft light accentuated the chiseled lines of his tall, muscular frame. His thick, wavy, blond hair cascaded around his shoulders, framing a face that was undeniably handsome. From his intense thickly lashed metal-gray eyes, to the tempting cleft in his scruffy, manly chin. The tight black jeans and T-shirt he wore clung to his form, highlighting every sculpted muscle.
He towered over her by at least a foot and exuded a raw, powerful presence that made her heart race.
The more Morgan studied him, the more unwelcome warmth spread through her and left her breathless. She wasn’t delusional enough to deny the attraction she had for him. An attraction that simmered just beneath the surface. But she was the last person to let something as inconvenient as an attractive man get in the way of surviving this god-awful situation she found herself in. Her primary goal was to get back to Earth. Since being with the Ozevroc, she’d uncovered more dangers to Earth than anyone on Aethralis could imagine.
It didn’t matter whether she felt drawn to the enigmatic, captivating man or not. He was a part of the solution or… he wasn’t. If that was the case, she’d have no choice but to leave him behind. “I don’t suppose you know how…”
A loud clicking noise echoing outside the open doorway interrupted her. It was the familiar sound of the Ozevroc clawed feet hitting the floor as a group of them headed to the engine/cargo bay room she and Ari were in.
“They’re coming.” She put up a hand as a warning to Ari. “Unless you can speak their language, I suggest you not say a word and let me do all the talking.”
The confused look on his scrunched face as he scratched the side of his head was cute as hell.
Ahem, not cute, Morgan. Not cute.
Liar,her inner voice chastised.
“Okay.” He turned to face the open doorway with his arms crossed. The action made the muscles in his arms writhe and tense.
Tearing her thoughtful gaze from him, she concentrated on the clanking sounds of the Ozevroc steps that matched their hissing and growling noises as they spoke to each other. Oh, great. She could tell their high chieftain, Welozz, was in a pissy mood.
He’d demanded the impossible from her this morning and was back to check on her progress.
“Human. Today you die!” Welozz boomed in the strange mixture of growls, hisses, and snarls that made up the Ozevroc language.
His hollow threat didn’t worry her. It was his usual greeting.
When she first met the species that kidnapped her and the other women from their prison on FiPan, it’d taken her a few moments before she understood them. Fortunately for her, the high chieftain himself took her. As he dragged her to his ship out of the gangster headquarters, she quickly negotiated with him to spare her. She convinced him she’d be more of an asset as a member of his crew instead of selling her on the black market. That was how she ended up as an all-around fixer-upper for anything that went wrong on theNebula Viper.
The Ozevroc might be crafty smugglers, but mechanics they weren’t. You’d think a spacefaring species would have a full-time engineer on board. Not these guys. They were too busy stealing anything they could get their grubby paws on, rather than bother to keep their ship running. It’s not like their lives in space depended on the vessel to keep working or anything. Short-sighted idiots.
Not for the first time was she grateful for the training she’d gotten back home as a general mechanical engineer. Her limited psychic talent for understanding and speaking other languages wasn’t in much demand there. So, in Aethralis, they deemed her only fit for manual labor. Even though her first love was computer coding, she’d fallen into the role of physical work easy enough. Coding was more of a hobby, and it gave her a chance to keep track of the outside human world. Lately, she worried those humans were catching up with her people’s advancements. She kept a close, obsessive watch for any sign they might use their growing technology to discover Aethralis. If they did, all that she held dear would be lost.
“Not today, High Chief,” she gave her usual response in his garbled language. “Lots to fix.”
Ari hissed a breath. He moved close and leaned down. “You can speak like they do?”
“Hush,” she hissed and waved him away before turning to Welozz. “Tell me, oh, High Chief Welozz. What brings you to the lower levels?” She picked up an almost-clean rag and wiped her greasy hands on it. She kept her gaze away from the Ozevroc’s four beady, black eyes. He’d consider it a challenge if she did. Dammit, she forgot to warn Ari about that. Hopefully he’d be too busy ogling the aliens rather than confronting them.
“You no fix consumable-maker! Searedchichuldnot seared!“ Gripped in the high chief’s middle hand was an octagon cylinder that he threw at her feet.
The bronze-colored device rolled before stopping in front of her.
“Human die!” he announced, waving the wooden stick he took with him everywhere. The staff was thin and long as he was, about four and a half feet.
The egotistical creep claimed it was a gift from the ruler of his planet Gnilia as a show of favor. Which she doubted was true. If any of them spoke the truth, she bet their stupid tongues would fall off.
Morgan pursed her lips to stop a smile from flying free. In a fit of childish frustration, she’d programed the device he’d thrown at her to make everything it created either sweet or burned, which the carnivorous Ozevroc loathed. Served him right for refusing to give her a similar contraption for her own use. She’d rather go hungry than eat one more tasteless food-cube.
Good thing he did what she’d hoped he would. Now that she had her hands on the machine again, all she had to do was install it in the replicron she fixed this morning, to create one for herself.
“My sincerest apologies, oh great and wise High Chieftain.” She lowered her eyes and put her hand over her heart. Gotta make it look good and all. “I will endeavor to repair this worthless consumable-maker for your personal use. Please, allow me to correct my mistake. I promise to deliver it to you before the end of the day cycle.” She peeked through her lashes to see if he took the bait.
Above his snout, his four beady-black eyes glared at her.
His stubby tail, one that reminded her of a beaver’s, thudded up and down on the metal floor.
Along his short torso were three pairs of arms. The middle pair held the staff in one hand while he kept his upper and lower arms crossed over the coarse fur of his chest. Unlike most of his crew, he wore a pair of shorts covering his lower half that exposed his legs with their dog-like paws and extended claws.
