do?”
“I want you to change your mind.”
He crosses his arms over his chest.
“That’s not going to happen.”
“Zander, I can appreciate your concern, but it’s my decision, not yours.”
I can’t stop a dark look from shooting her way, and then I quickly rise from my seat.
“I can see my counsel is not welcome here.”
Solair calls after me, but I don’t stop. In fact, I don’t stop until I get back to my quarters and dig out my own tablet.
Thrase is not the only one qualified and willing on this ship. If she’s going undercover into danger, I’ll be right there with her, fated mate or no fated mate.
Chapter Ten
Thrase
The hover taxi drops me off in front of the Starcorp building, a massive anvil-shaped structure all the more foreboding for its ominous emptiness. The lights on the sixth floor are the only ones activated in the entire place, and I can’t stop my palms from sweating at the thought of entering that—what did Zander call it? Nest of vipers.
I feel terribly for Zander, having to sit on the sidelines while I enter a potentially dangerous situation. After the last couple of days, we seem to be inching closer to one another, to maybe admitting there really is something going on between us…
What am I doing? Fantasizing about an alien hunk is so not my style. Besides, it’s all just chemical reactions in the brain, hormones, and the silly procreative drive in all sapients who reproduce sexually.
Did I just think the word sexually? Ugh, I thought it again. Okay, for real this time. Banishing all thoughts of Zander right this minute.
Of course, he’s all I can think about as I walk up the crumbling pavement leading to the Starcorp building’s entrance. When I’m about ten feet from the doors, an IHC marine steps outside. While his hand remains far away from the rifle slung over his shoulder—I am expected, after all—I’m keenly aware of its presence.
“Can I help you, ma’am?” Though his words are professional, his tone is not. Also not professional; the way he’s leering at me, even though I’ve taken pains to dress in the least titillating manner possible. Ugh, human men are the worst.
“I’m here for my orientation. Talia Hurst.”
“Hurst, huh?” He brings out a tablet and checks it with a squinty-eyed gaze. “Yeah, you’re on the list. Figured you’d be an ugly cow given your résumé, but you’re something else.”
“Uh, thanks. Can I go inside now?”
“Sure, sure.” He opens the door for me, but as I attempt to cross the threshold, he impedes my progress with his body. “Say, I get off duty in a few hours. Want to grab a bite to eat?”
“Sorry, I’m on the twenty-day fast of Sekora.” I duck under his arm before he puzzles out that Sekora is a Solari holiday and not likely to be celebrated by a tech-savvy scientist.
Another guard directs me to the elevator, a dilapidated thing that seems to take forever to get to the sixth floor. One thing that stands out to me about the Starcorp building is the surveillance tech. It’s all new, totally at odds with the condition of the rest of the structure. I do my best to remain calm and project an air of professionalism. It’s okay if they realize I’m nervous, I tell myself. They’ll just chalk it up to new job jitters.
At last, I reach the sixth floor and the door slides upward. Stepping onto the surface of a worn gray carpet, I glance about self-consciously as several men gathered around a work table go over data on a holodisplay. They turn it off quickly when I approach, but I notice several names—female Earth names.
A rail thin man with a pencil mustache and a bad combover approaches me, his face grinning ear to ear.
“Hello. You must be the other new hire, Talia. I’m Bruce. It’s so nice to meet you.”
I take his offered hand and shake it. His grip is limp and sweaty, which is about as appealing as it sounds. I hope he doesn’t notice the way I pointedly wipe my hand on my overcoat.
“Yes, thank you. Wait, did you say other new hire?”
“Yes, you’ll have Professor Rednaz along with you for orientation today. Please follow me.”
Rednaz? Could be a name I’ve never encountered, but it doesn’t come close to any sapient species dialect I can think of off the top of my head.
Bruce leads me out of the office suite and down a hallway with cracked and peeling paint. The overhead