Adiron (Corsair Brothers 1)

The one standing in front of me, grinning like a loon, is attractive enough. Okay, fine, he's cute. He's got a roguish grin that promises naughtiness and bright eyes. He's built like a pro-wrestler, and his somewhat messy hair tickles at his brow and the curve of his ear instead of staying in place. If I was back on Earth, I'd say this man looks like someone that knows how to have fun.

But since we're in space, he's the enemy.

I wait for him to answer me, irked by the playful smile that remains on his face as he paces. He pretends to study all of us, but his gaze keeps straying back to me. "I think you were going to rob us and dump us. Steal our ship and enjoy a tidy little profit. And I'm also guessing it's not the first time you've pulled this sort of maneuver."

He looks impressed instead of angry, and I don't know how to handle that. "We weren't going to kill you," I point out. "Just send you back into space on your ship."

"If it makes you feel any better, it wouldn't have worked. We deliberately came to this sector looking for the Buoyant Star. We would have turned right back around and headed in your direction again, memory-altering gas or not."

I'm not completely stupid. "We'd turn off the distress signal so you wouldn't be able to find us."

His lips tilt into a smile. "And you'd move the ship?"

I remain silent. I can't point out that we don't know how to do more than tap a few buttons on the ship. That most of what we've learned how to do has been through punching one button and waiting for the results, good or bad. That the only way we know how to turn on the gas in the one room was because Ruth was scrubbing air filters and hit the wrong button and knocked herself out for a day. It's been a lot of guess work, and since we have nothing else but free time, we've taught ourselves some rudimentary defenses.

I don't regret that our plan failed. At least we had a plan. At least we tried. It's been clear to me from the get-go that no one looks out for humans except humans, so Ruth, Alice, Helen and I have done what we had to do to survive. If this one wants an apology, he's going to be waiting for a while.

I lift my chin, defiant. "Does it matter if we move the ship or not?"

He shrugs. "I mean, I'd move it. At this rate, the ice field's going to swallow you up in a few weeks. Maybe a month or two. Unless that's part of your plan…?" He crosses his arms over his chest, tilting his head at me.

I try not to let my shock show. Ice field? What ice field? We've noticed that the ship has had to work a little harder to maintain a regulated temperature, but we didn't know what was causing it, just that the meters were showing an increase in output of some kind. But if we're slowly drifting toward an ice field…what does that mean? And what happens to us then? I want to look over at the others, but I don't dare give away how much or how little we know.

I just shrug. What else can I do?

The door behind him opens, and three other big aliens walk in. I glance at my “friend” and a hint of irritation crosses his face, quickly masked. Interesting. Is he annoyed that they're here to torture us before he could get information out of us? Or is it something else?

"I just want you all to know that I bite," Ruth snarls as the aliens glare at us. "I will absolutely tear a chunk off of any appendage that comes into range."

"And I have a disease," Alice announces. "If you touch me, you'll catch it."

I glance over at my ladies, and they're wearing looks of defiance. Except Helen. She looks depressed. "I want a disease," she whispers.

Alice shakes her head at her.

The friendly one joins the others, looping his arms around the shoulders of two of the men. They look alike, now that he moves in between them, I realize. Cousins? Brothers? They're all handsome in that alien way, but they're still the enemy. The one in black robes glares at us, his tail flicking back and forth under his skirts.

Now THAT one is agitated. He doesn't have to say a word for him to make me uneasy.

"Well, boys," my “friend” announces, grinning. "How do we punish? I vote spanking."

15

JADE

Spanking? Is that man serious?

Actually, I know the answer to that, somehow. No, he's not serious. Judging from the wide grin on his face, the man is rarely ever serious. It's even more evident when his friends roll their eyes at him.