Hunted By the Alien Pirate by Celia Kyle Page 0,27

is most unfortunate that our quarry has escaped us—for now.” The man holding my hair yanks back hard enough to make my neck pop and lifts me into the air like a rag doll. “Fortunately, this little delicacy is a wellspring of information we have yet to tap. I shall take her to Commander Tarsk immediately.”

He leers in my face as I grab onto his wrist with both hands, seeking to end the painful tension on my scalp.

“You’d best play nice with him, little one. He has ties to Councilor Opak himself.”

Despite my plight, I grin fiercely in his face, blood trailing from my lip due to his earlier harsh slap.

“Am I supposed to be impressed?”

I’m expecting another blow, but the Kraaj tilts his head back and guffaws with great mirth.

“You have spirit. I like you, little one. Perhaps when Tarsk is finished with you, and you go up on the block, I’ll bid on you myself.”

“I already have a man, and you don’t measure up.”

I put extra emphasis on the word measure, but my insult seems to have the opposite effect. He cackles louder and lowers me until my feet touch the floor.

“Get on with you.” He continues to hold my hair, shoving me down the corridor ahead of him as I stumble to keep pace with his much longer stride. About half the time he’s basically carrying me by my hair. I try not to give in to my fear, however understandable it might be. Sooner or later, my love will come and free me. Of that, I have no doubt. He’d move the stars themselves out of the sky if that’s what it took.

And he’ll have the entire Ancestral Queen crew behind him. Given all that we’ve been through in our short time together, I couldn’t ask for a better rescue squad.

So for the time being, I need to remain strong, and not give them so much as one iota of information. The Kraaj have a brutal reputation, deservedly so, but they rarely do permanent damage to human females.

We are too valuable a commodity on their much-maligned auction blocks. The Kraaj see such auctions as an honor, an elevation of a lesser species to serve them. Obviously that’s a sentiment I don’t share, but it also gives me hope that they won’t be especially vicious in their interrogations.

They are also highly misogynistic and tend to underestimate females of any sapient species. I can use that to my advantage. While I cringe on the inside to think of playing up to the dumb blonde stereotype, I’m determined to do whatever I can to keep Montier and the Queen free and safe.

My captor half pushes, half carries me along the winding path down into the bowels of the facility. Between this building, the mercs, and all of the equipment therein, this has to be costing Project Blue Dawn a fortune. Either they’re funneling funds from legit IHC ventures or they have the backing of powerful financiers—possibly both.

I do my best to try and memorize the path we take in case I need to flee along it later. I’m counting on the fact that the Kraaj tend to be arrogant and dismissive in the extreme to give me a chance for escape.

We reach a double set of sliding doors about four levels down, and my captor reaches up to press on the chime button.

“Come.”

The voice that emanates over the speaker is nothing short of cold blooded and just this side of annoyed. I hope I’m strong enough for what’s to come because if I break and spill my guts about the Queen and our mission here, I’ll never be rescued.

The doors slide apart with a hiss, and a modest office space is revealed. The silver-skinned Kraaj standing behind the stainless-steel desk is large even for one of his sapient species. A bit of crimson at his neck hints at tattoos on his torso, and the neatly trimmed mustache and goatee make him seem like an angry fisherman captain who’s just pulled up an empty cage onto his deck.

“So. This is one of the interlopers foolish enough to try our patience.” He sneers. “Pretty, but weak, like most human females. Leave her.”

My captor releases his hold on my hair at last, and I plop heavily to the metal floor, banging my rump pretty good. The apparent Tarsk grunts as if it doesn’t matter, and gestures at one of the empty chairs.

“Seat yourself.”

I rise to my feet, rubbing my aching hip.

“I’d rather