Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 55108 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 220(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55108 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 220(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
Instead, for some reason, leaning in, I tell her, “You’re done.” Her hair smells like that fruit humans like, strawberries. I inhale for just a second.
“How did I do?” She sounds anxious, like she really cares.
“Well.” I attempt to hide the score on the screen, where it says: Negative 50%. Assessment: Failure. Reject applicant. Recommend hand-eye coordination training and med assessment of balance and tracking motions. Check with med for brain tumor or other occlusions that may prohibit baseline.
Too late—she sees it. Her face falls. “Brain tumor?”
“Oh, you don’t have one,” I assure her. “You passed the med clearance.”
She makes a noise. “How could I get negative?” She blinks three times and her eyes get glossy, because the refractive index of her corneas goes from 1.5 to 3.7.
“It’s not easy.” I consider. “It’s because you actively did the opposite of what the program wanted.” It suddenly dawns on me. Maybe she’s not here for the training. Maybe she’s here for… something else entirely.
Something I gave her on the ship.
“I really did my best,” she insists.
“Well, that’s just your first effort.” I clear my throat. “If you do it a few more times, surely you’ll improve.” Not enough. Captain Drayk should fire me for even suggesting she has a chance at this kind of job. But now that I know why she’s here, I don’t want her to leave. Not before I’ve satisfied her needs.
“I’ll work hard,” she promises. “I always have.” Based on my sensors, her gaze appears impassioned.
“I believe you.” I lower my voice. “There’s no doubt. I heard about you on that planet, how you behaved. Those were the actions of a dedicated being.” That part is true.
She glances at the screen. “Ah, how do most beings do on this test?”
“Let’s not compare you to others.” I hastily close the software as my commander comes up.
“How’d she do?”
I avoid a direct answer. “We’re going to check her hand-eye coordination next.” I stand. “Contrast that with the program scores. Zina, come on over to the mat area. I’ll just run you through a few physical activities.”
That involve you flat on your back with your legs spread wide.
“Did she score ninety-nine percent or higher?” My captain raises a brow. “Usually you drop those who don’t manage at least 99.7 percent.”
“No.” I clear my throat. “But she has potential. So, I’m just going to try a few things.”
“Try a few things.” He looks right at me. “I see.”
“Humans can often excel when given the chance.” It’s not a lie.
“True.” He nods. But he still has that expression on his face, the one that registers—in my past experience—as half disbelief, half surprise.
“I have the top two warriors scheduled for this afternoon,” I add. “One is the human male, Tal—Captain Lundric’s pilot.” I’m just throwing out facts to distract him from Zina now. “This won’t detract from my workload.”
“Well, then, carry on.” He nods. “I’m sure you know what’s best… for your trainee program.” He glances around. “I’m off to the flight dome. Need to work on the new barrier upgrades.”
“Thank you, Captain. I’ll see you soon.”
I note his smile as he walks away.
I turn back to Zina.
Zina
Now it’s just the two of us: Tarek and I.
He grabs a large ball. “Stand six feet away from me. I’m going to toss this to you. You catch it.”
I raise my eyebrows. “That’s considered a test of coordination? Ooof.”
The ball is heavier than I expected, even though it’s padded, and I barely manage to catch it. Then it drops.
“Skills assessment and training at the same time.” He appears to be suppressing a smile.
“Wow, okay you surprised me. Go again.” I pick up the ball.
“Toss it back.” His voice is deep and commanding. Something in me melts. I don’t understand why. I hated being commanded what to do… from Master and other Ocretions. But Tarek’s authority is totally different. Sexy. I want him to be my new master.
I hurl it over. “Oh, heavy.” It falls short.
He jogs over to pick it up. “Let me show you.” He hands me the ball and positions himself behind me, his arms framing mine, his large lavender-skinned palms completely covering my smaller ones. “It’s like this,” he murmurs, his lips right at my ear. The heavy ball floats up in the air as he does all the lifting. “Bend at the elbows.”
I seriously don’t know how he makes the word elbows sound so incredibly sexy.
My nipples grow taut and sensitive beneath my Zandian gown—the nicest, most beautiful thing I’ve ever worn. I follow his lead, taking the ball behind my head.
“Now throw.” The ball flies through the air through absolutely no help of mine. “You see?”
My laugh sounds strange to my own ears—sort of… husky. “I think you did that.”
“You try,” he coaxes.
I jog over to the ball and pick it up. Why does it have to be so damn heavy? Just lifting it over my head the way he showed me throws me off balance and I weave and stumble.