"Wait! Okay, fine, yes, rescue me!" I hated how quickly I caved. A new personal record. "But I'm lodging a formal complaint with your manager!"
"I’ll let him know myself,” Torvyn drawled. “In the meantime, Kaedren is already outside your airlock." I looked up. A massive four-armed humanoid stood in the swirling storm light, watching me with glowing blue eyes.
He gripped the airlock door, ripped it open like it weighed nothing, and leaned in.
“Dr. Kira Vale,” he said softly. “Your rescue begins now.”
Chapter 2
“I don’t want to get up. I’m tired,” I mumbled.
The sheets were soft and fluffy—nothing like the stiff, industrial sheets the company had issued me. Those always smelled vaguely like wet dog. These smelled… nice. Suspiciously nice. I pulled them closer to my nose and inhaled. Why didn’t these smell like wet dog?
I rubbed the fluffy mounds against my face. They were like cotton candy—at least what I imagined cotton candy would feel like. Less sticky, probably.
My eyes shot open, and I sat bolt upright. A sharp explosion of pain ripped through my skull, and I collapsed back onto the silky pillow. Bursts of starlight danced behind my eyelids.
Great job, doctor. Really showed spatial awareness who’s boss.
The throbbing subsided, and I slowly opened one eye.
I was definitely not in my habitat.
The room—really more of a cell—had metal walls, no windows, and a heavily reinforced door. A single light panel buzzed overhead, carving deep shadows across the space.
Why wasn’t I on the habitat?
Think, woman—where are you?
I closed my eyes, dragging up the last thing I remembered—great, stupid Director Voss. Keep thinking. I definitely didn’t want him to be my last memory before… whatever this was.
The emergency beacon.
I had launched it. The company must have rescued me and then dropped me off at the universe’s worst vacation rental.
Or maybe I was dead? Some alien religions believed something like this was heaven.
No. No, that couldn’t be it.
I facepalmed.
Pirates.
I had been kidnapped. And just like that, everything came flooding back. The alarms. The stupid flashing lights. The smug captain with an attitude. The sweet medic telling me to breathe. The slightly—no, completely—obsessed science officer. And, of course, the four-armed mountain of muscle that pulled me out of the collapsing habitat.
My evac suit—gone.
I lifted the covers and glanced down.
I screamed.
Somebody—or somebodies—had gotten a peek at my goodies without even buying me a single drink. Not that I was a single-drink kind of gal. Well, maybe I was after spending eleven and a half months alone with nothing but the basic broadcast networks in a tiny habitat on a tiny planet in the ass-end of the galaxy. I mentally added that "sneak peek" to the list of things I needed to discuss with management, if pirates even had a management structure.
A loud clang echoed off the walls, and my cage—yes, cage—door slid open.
A large, muscular, dark-haired, man-shaped alien stepped inside. I blinked twice, fighting the urge to stare. A soft smile spread across his blue-skinned face, dimples appearing just above his chiseled jaw and below his light hazel eyes. He tucked a strand of jet-black hair behind his ear and lifted both hands in a calming gesture.
I became suddenly, painfully aware of my own appearance—copper hair loose and tangled across the pillow, no makeup, probably pale as death, and wrapped in a sheet like some kind of distressed burrito—fantastic first impression.
