Kirek didn’t budge from his stance or his determination to remain free. Some issues weren’t debatable and slavery was one of them. Seven years ago, at the mention of anyone selling him, he wouldn’t have been able to restrain his seething temper. But after a good part of a decade spent traveling through the galaxy, he’d healed from his time spent on Endeki, where he’d been a hostage and suffered at the hands of a woman with an unusual taste for cruelty. While Captain Angel Taylor might be space-hardened, she didn’t emit a cruel psi, at least from what his own blast-damaged one could pick up. Kirek found his new handicap tiresome and limiting but reminded himself that until the last century, most of humanity never had more to go on than he did right now—his instincts. Angel stared hard at him, and while her tone had an edge, it was cut with understanding. “I asked what they would pay for you to learn your value to them. And,” she continued, grinning, “to see if my threat would make you answer my question.”
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