“Ah ha!” Damien shot back at him triumphantly. “As you say—physical! And, physically, we are all much the sameexceptfor a variation in the color of the hair and eyes!”
Kameron studied his companion through narrowed eyes. “Myfaceis not the same as yours. In that respect we are as different from one another as the humans are. And I must say,mygene donor was undoubtedly far more handsome than yours!”
“There is nothing wrong with my face!” Damien snarled. “It is as symmetrical as yours!”
“Except the nose,” Kameron muttered, dismissing the argument and turning to pace again.
Damien lifted a hand to examine his nose self-consciously since there was no reflective surface nearby to check it. “What is wrong with my nose?”
Kameron shrugged. “Aside from the fact it is nearly a millimeter too long for your features to be completely symmetrical? Nothing. Mine, on the other hand, is precisely the right length, besides being aquiline, which is considered both noble and aristocratic by humans.”
Damien dropped his hand and glared at Kameron.
“Your mouth is not entirely symmetrical either.”
Damien ground his teeth together. “I suppose your mouth is also aristocratic?” he said in a credible attempt at sarcasm, although it seemed to pass right over Kameron’s head.
“No. It is considered sensual.”
“By whom?” Damien growled.
“It is in the manual—the part where it describes the more desirable traits in a mate.”
“Since you do not have a mate any more than I, then I will assume that your comprehension of the data is far below one hundred percent.”
“Are you suggesting that my processors are faulty?” Kameron demanded in a low, dangerous growl.
Damien smirked at him. “I do not think that Isuggestedany such thing.” He ducked the fist Kameron swung at him and landed a quick jab to Kameron’s perfect—no sensual—lips in retaliation, marring their perfection nicely. They’d just grabbed each other around the throat when the sensor alarm went off.
Both men froze, for a handful of seconds certain that they’d inadvertently slammed into something while they were tussling.
“Proximity breach,” the computer intoned. “Buoy number 8-7-0.”
Kameron and Damien both shot a quick glance at the console before they looked at one another again.
“A craft? Out here?”
“Replacement crew?” Damien hazarded a guess.
The following free short story is a gift from Kaitlyn O’Connor and NCP.
Alien Enslaved:
Spoils
Copyright ( c ) Kaitlyn O’Connor, October 2016
Cover Art by Eliza Black, October 2016
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park, GA 31636
www.newconceptspublishing.com
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.
With her eyes clenched tightly, as they were at the moment, the sounds around her—screams of excitement and encouragement and disappointment—might almost have been the sounds of an ordinary ball game.
