Tamed By the Alien Pirate by Celia Kyle Page 0,25

smile spreads across my lips, my heart fluttering as I remember how his lips felt when crushed against mine. God, I can’t wait for a second round of that. “Hey, what’s going on over there?”

At the far end of the lab we’re working in, a spindly woman in her fifties has just waltzed in. She has half-moon spectacles perched on the bridge of her nose, and her white hair has been tied in a strict bun. Instead of a lab coat, she’s wearing a pinstripe tailored suit. Whoever she might be, she’s more than a simple Starcorp employee.

Andrew, our supervisor, dutifully rises from behind his desk and makes his way toward the newcomer. The moment he’s within reach, the middle-aged woman jabs her index finger at Andrew’s chest and immediately starts berating him for his tardiness with the tests.

“Holy shit, she’s chewing him up,” I mutter under my breath.

“I can empathize,” Zander says, his tone almost too casual. “Andrew isn’t exactly efficient in his duties. And have you checked his deviation standards on organic compounds? Really, it’s astounding he got hired as project manager. He wouldn’t be working under me, that’s for sure.”

“Jesus, you’ve really bought into the role. Haven’t you?” Shaking my head, I then tilt my chin toward the door opposite our desks. “What do you say we grab this opportunity and do some exploration? Whoever that woman is, she’s bound to keep Andrew busy for a while.”

“What about the plan we discussed?” he asks. “Shouldn’t we wait for the guards to rotate their shifts?”

“Easier to seize the opportunity now.” Silently, I leave my seat and start heading toward the door. I unlock it with my badge, and then hold my breath and look around, trying to see if anyone has noticed me. Knowing that I’m in the clear, I give Zander a little wave. “You coming or what?”

“On the way.” Surreptitiously, he walks toward the exit and we leave the lab together. We make our way down the dimly lit corridor connecting our lab to the one processing neurological exams, but we go as slowly as possible. Doors line the entire corridor and, although most of them are locked, small panels on the side indicate what they’re being used for.

“Check this out,” Zander says and then taps me on the shoulder. I stop moving, spin around, and look in the direction he’s pointing. Mounted right above a set of sliding double doors, an information panel indicates it as Holding Area 7B.

That sounds promising.

“It’s locked with a retinal scanner.” Frowning, I look down at the access panel. There’s no way Zander or I will be able to hack our way into the room, at least not without Fiona to help us out. We might have above average IQ, but Fiona is a goddess when it comes to hacking and coding.

“I can fix that,” Zander says, and then my jaw drops as he fishes his atom smasher gun from the pocket on his lab coat.

“You brought that thing here?”

“I’m good with my hands,” he replies, and then looks away and clears his throat. “I mean, I’m competent when it comes to sleight of hand tricks. It wasn’t that hard to smuggle this thing in. Anyway, I did a few quick modifications to it, and I figure it should work on non-organic matter now. At least, that’s what I hope.”

Holding the gun against the panel, he squeezes the trigger.

Just a couple of seconds later and the metallic casing of the panel becomes iridescent, the keyboard melting away. For a moment, I think the room is going to remain locked, but a spark jumps out from the panel and the doors slide back. Zander and I exchange a glance, and then we step inside the room.

Dim purple lights have been mounted overhead at regular intervals, but most of the light comes from the floor-to-ceiling windows at the end of the room. Strewn across the room, like terrifying mementos of what’s happening inside this building, are dozens of cryo pods.

With my heart beating fast, I approach one of the pods and examine the screen on the pod’s console. A few taps on it and I quickly realize that every subject inside the room has been marked as “worthless,” and they are to be sold to the slavers’ guild.

“You’re seeing this?” I ask Zander, but he’s no longer paying attention to me.

“I think there’s company on the way,” he says, leveling his pistol toward the room’s entrance. Only then do I hear the