“Justice.” The white-haired human reached up and gripped the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb, pinching it. “Some days working for the NSO is a pain in my ass. This isn’t professional.” His hand dropped to his side. “At a hospital we would call this hack medicine.”

“Then go work for one.” It was a female who spoke. “Come on, Ted. You knew when you took the job that the rule book would go out the window. They didn’t cover Species in med school.”

“I don’t like it, Trisha.” The white-haired human hesitated. “Fine. I’m stating on the record, though, that I protest.”

“Noted,” the female agreed. “We’ll monitor his vitals closely and we have an emergency team standing by if Moon gets into trouble.”

466 glanced around with worry. The technicians usually didn’t mind inflicting pain on his kind. It had to be a particularly gruesome torture for one of them to balk at doing whatever they planned.

The room was small with wood planks lining walls and very hot. It appeared that planks had also been laid over a tile floor—he could see through some of the wider cracks. A big drain was to his left. He had to twist his head to get a view of the thing he was strapped to. It appeared to be some kind of wooden table that had supports that kept it about an inch off the floor. The thing he stood on wasn’t long enough to keep his toes from dangling over the edge as he wiggled them. He glanced up. Four big round metal things with many holes were attached to the ceiling at one end of the tight space. At least none of them were pointed in his direction. A few feet in front of him there was a strange-looking little burner or stove of some kind with rocks on top. A bucket of water and a ladle sat beside it.

He wondered if this was the end of his existence. Had the technicians decided to kill him? It appeared that way. Gas could come from above. The drain implied easy clean up and the wood-lined walls would be easy to replace if bloodshed was involved. He struggled again.

The white-haired human faced him, his expression grim. 466 snarled a warning.

“You’re about to get very hot,” the human whispered. “Tell me if it’s too much, okay? We’re monitoring your vitals but we need your help too. We don’t want to overheat you.”

They must be testing new chemicals but they weren’t doing it with a hose. 466 glanced at the metal handles just behind the man. Did they control the flow to the metal objects overhead? Fear and rage combined as he struggled harder but couldn’t break free.

“Please,” another female voice reached his ears. “Let me go in there with him.” There was something familiar about her voice.

“No.” The white-haired human backed away to the other side of the cramped room. “It’s crowded and uncomfortable enough in here.”

“I don’t care!” The female voice rose. “Please, Mr. North? He’s struggling and he looks panicky. I don’t think he knows that no one is going to hurt him.”

“Go,” the deep voice responded.

A human female stepped in front of him. He ceased his struggles with the straps when he saw her face. Wide, big blue eyes met his. She froze for a heartbeat. Dark hair fell over her white T-shirt to hang just below her br**sts. The sight of her did something funny to 466. The urge to kill left him. It somehow didn’t apply to her.

She approached him cautiously, her small hands lifted and she opened her palms toward him. They held no weapons or medical devices. She shoved her hair out of her face when it stuck to her cheeks. She was beginning to sweat from the heat.

“Hey,” she whispered. “It’s me.”

He looked down at the shirt molded over the swell of her br**sts. Through the material of her shirt he clearly saw something black that hid her ni**les. The human wore a much smaller shirt under the T-shirt for some strange reason he didn’t understand.

“Nothing will hurt you. I promise,” she crooned. One hand reached out and she almost touched his skin. “See? It’s just really hot to make you sweat.” She glanced at the white-haired human. “You can go a hair hotter. I think I can tell if it’s too much.”

466 pulled back his upper lip and allowed her to see his sharp canines as he growled a warning. It was a reminder that he’d stopped fighting the restraints. He sucked in air, expanding his chest to push against them while flexing his muscles. It might have been wishful thinking but the restraints seemed to give him a little more wiggle room.

“I’m Joy.”

She didn’t flee the way he thought she would. Movement drew his attention and he watched as the white-haired human moved to the bucket, dipped out some water and poured it on the rocks. Steam rose and the room became noticeably hotter. Sweat broke out all over his body.

Gentle fingers brushed his chest and his eyes widened in shock. Though the human wasn’t wearing gloves, she made direct contact with his skin. He threw back his head and howled in rage. Mercile must be attempting to kill him since this hadn’t ever happened before. He struggled again, jerking his body violently in hopes that he’d be able to slip free.

“Look at me!”

The human suddenly did the unexpected. She gripped the top of one of his shoulders and used it as leverage to haul her body higher. Her small feet planted right between his on the platform where he stood. The female’s body was soft and moist as she pressed tightly against him. He looked down at her.

He could slam his head against her forehead to knock her away. It wouldn’t kill her but it would hurt. Her chin lifted and she met his glare. She exposed herself to death now. All it would take was for him to slam his chin into the bridge of her tiny nose with enough force.