Highlander's Love: Winter Solestice (Against All Odds Series 3)

by Veronica Wilson

  It was then that Claudia managed to take a good look at the animal, and it was majestic. Although smeared with blood, the bright, almost gold-colored lion seemed unreal.

  Its fur is the same shade as Dillon’s hair.

  Her head spinning, she turned her head back toward Dillon’s room. Aside from the blood, the bed was empty.

  That lion, is that… that just isn’t possible!

  The remaining man apparently chose not to put up a fight. Instead, he dropped his weapon, turned around and started running down the now-empty hallway.

  But the beast didn’t show any mercy. In full force, it pounced on the man’s back, downing him with little effort. Without a hint of hesitation, the lion bit into the back of his neck and quickly tilted its head to the side, killing him on the spot.

  Triumphantly, the beast raised its head before unleashing a mighty, unbridled roar. It would have lasted quite a while, too, had the body underneath the lion not exploded in the most horrible way imaginable.

  What the— Claudia tried to think, but her instincts caused her to grab the back of her head and lie down on the floor. By the time she raised her head there were bits and pieces everywhere, and most of the hallway was colored an inconsistent crimson.

  She rose to her feet as quickly as her large body allowed, and immediately ran toward the smoldering heap that was ground zero. The lion was nowhere in sight. However, the badly injured body of Dillon lay curled near the right wall. His hands and feet were missing, and the wounds bled so badly that death seemed imminent.

  Usually composed enough in these situations, Claudia found that she couldn’t articulate a single thought. Instead, she merely fell to her knees in front of him and covered her eyes with the palms of her own hands. They were wet soon after. The room was spinning, even though she didn’t look. She lost track of time.

  Who knows how much time later, the sound of Doc Addams’ voice stirred her from that state. “Would you look at that!”

  Afraid to open her eyes, Claudia forced herself to do it regardless. When she did, whatever she was about to say got stuck in her throat.

  Before her lay Dillon, unconscious, but with all of his limbs completely undamaged.

  Five hours later

  Time to finally go through with it.

  Taking a deep breath, Claudia grabbed the door’s handle. Without hesitation, she turned it and passed through, trying not to hit the doorway with the bag that she wore on her back.

  On the other side was a hospital room, albeit of a very different type than the ones reserved for more normal patients. This one had reinforced walls as well as bulletproof glass; everything they’d need to contain a violent or otherwise dangerous patient.

  In its center sat Dillon, cleaned up and nude. He had been provided with a hospital gown to wear, but he chose not to don it. Seeing him like this was pleasant without a doubt, but nevertheless did something she did not enjoy: it clouded her judgment.

  “Came to see me, Clarice?” He opened the conversation in the creepiest voice he could manage. Somehow it didn’t make him repulsive.

  “As a matter of fact, I did.” Claudia responded in the most formal way she could manage. “So, are you going to tell me what’s happened today, or are you going to lie to me? I’d be careful about my answer if I were you, though. Your fate now lies in the responsible hands of Doc Addams, a dear friend of mine.” Unceremoniously, she let the bag drop to the floor.

  Dillon didn’t smile anymore. With feline grace, he rose to his feet, standing in his spot with all the splendor of an antique statue. “Are there cameras in here?” he asked, apparently more out of curiosity than fear.

  “No,” Claudia replied, preferring to say the truth. “But that door back there will only open from the outside, and the orderly near it will only respond to my voice, so don’t try anything funny.”

  “Oh, the things I would do to you are anything but funny, Claudia,” Dillon retorted, a slight chuckle creeping onto his face before disappearing again. “But enough about that. You wanted my story and I will give it to you. But I’m warning you: it’s about as crazy as you can imagine.”

  “I can imagine many things,” Claudia commented, unaware that she was smiling just a little bit. “But please indulge me.”

  “No problem. Ever heard of a werewolf? Of course you have. Well, I’m a werelion. Sounds ridiculous, right? Well, you’ve seen it with your own eyes, so you won’t need any convincing about that. Are you following this?”

  Yeah, right out of a bad movie, alright.

  “I’m all ears.”

  “Thing is, it’s hereditary. I can’t ‘infect’ anyone with it. But it’s extremely recessive. Apparently, I’m the first my family line’s had in almost a century. As I’ve told you, not everyone can be me.” He seemed to want to smile, but was obviously not into it.

  “So, you turn into a lion every night? And you regrow limbs? You are allergic to silver, as well? Is that it?”

  “Basically, except I don’t have to shift. It’s just something that feels incredibly good once in a while, and I have need of it. Like sex.” The way he pronounced the word, combined with the manner he stared at her while he spoke, made the already present tingle in her loins intensify significantly. “And silver is not harmful to me. Frankly, I have no idea what is.”

  “Do you kill people, Dillon?” Claudia asked, her expression suddenly comparable to that of a medieval inquisitor.

  “What? No! Well, I did murder the guys who went after me, yes. I ripped them up good! But innocents? Never!” The way he accentuated the word made it obvious that he was serious. “I do eat a lot of meat, and I can’t stand plants, but that’s about it. I hunt animals from time to time, but never people. What kind of sicko do you think I am?”

  “You’re the first person I’ve ever met that has killed people, Dillon. It’s not exactly something most people tend to do.”

  “Touché.”

  “And speaking of that, why were those men after you, anyway? They were obviously some kind of special force members. How do you explain that?”

  “Easily. They were hunters. I have no idea what particular group they were part of, not that it matters in any way since they’re all the same. Hunting organizations are essentially small, undercover militaries whose only job is to root out anything remotely unnatural. Incidentally, that moniker includes me, for some reason.”

  “You mean that there are others like you?” At this point, Claudia couldn’t conceal the surprise in her voice.

  “Like me, probably, although I don’t think there are that many. Lions, I mean. I certainly haven’t met any in my lifetime. As for other shapeshifters, you bet there are! I’m not exactly fond of hanging out with them, as a matter of fact. Their scent offends me.”

  “So, all this time you were merely defending yourself? You won’t attack anyone without provocation, right?”

  “Of course I won’t. There’s nothing in it for me.”

  Relieved, Claudia exhaled. Carefully, she opened up her bag, revealing a doctor’s uniform.

  “I’m glad to hear that, Dillon. You see, Doc Addams is a good friend of mine. I’ve talked to him, and it seems that he is willing to proclaim you legally deceased if you would do as much as leave the city and not come back. If you agree to those terms, I will go and confirm to him that you are no monster. And he will believe me. In the meantime, you are to get into this doctor’s uniform. Then, we will use it to smuggle you out of here. How does that sound?”

  Almost out of breath from all that talk, Claudia didn’t even manage to react to Dillon pouncing on top of her and knocking her to the ground. The force of the impact was fierce, but the additional padding she had made sure that she was not hurt at all. At first, she considered that he may have been attacking her, but the taste of his wriggling tongue immediately put that idea to rest.

  Powerfully, Dillon’s hands worked their way over and around her soft flesh, causing the traces of heat that lay within her abdomen to qu
ickly erupt into a bonfire; a bonfire that threatened to expand and consume all of her, especially after she felt the touch of Dillon’s erect member on her meaty thigh.

  “Don’t waste time and jam it in!” Claudia wanted to yell out, but all that came out of her was unintelligible moaning. Her legs slowly spread to her sides, without any input from her.

  Someone else might not have been capable of it, but he understood her perfectly. In a single motion, he let his right hand slip inside her wrinkled white skirt, moving her panties slightly to the side. Then, having pulled his tongue out of her mouth in order to take some air, he swung his hips and impaled her mercilessly.

  Oh, yes!

  Claudia felt the pleasure expand across and over her prone body. There was a little pain, but the enjoyable sensations quickly drowned it out completely. Without a word, Dillon pulled out for a little bit, then jammed it back in, this time all the way to the base.

  Oh, God, it’s so good!

  Grabbing her left breast with his right hand and her right thigh with the other, Dillon proceeded to work his way in and out of her. Soon, he lifted her leg up in the air, creating an angle that made his thrusting feel so good it threatened to obliterate her sanity.

  At this rate I will, I will—

  An explosion followed, originating from within her center. The fire did indeed expand, and it consumed everything in her existence.

  Everything except pure, refined bliss.

  Epilogue

  A month had passed since Claudia and Dillon had disappeared from the city.

  Pleased with her life, the former nurse sat upon a sunny beach, thoroughly enjoying the day. She wore a tight (by her standards) bathing suit, one that accentuated her assets and made them spill out whenever she moved. Some would consider the display shameless. She called it an offering to her lion.

  There is no one around here yet, anyway. She observed the area with wonder, though this was not her first time here, not by far. The beach was crystal clear, the sand soft and pleasant to the touch. Even the nearby mountains looked amazing.

  Now all that remains is for the repairs to be finished and we will be good to go! Indeed, liquidating their assets and buying the slightly old motel they now lived in turned out to have been the best idea they could ever have. Who’d have thought that he had that much money around!

  As if summoned by her thoughts, Dillon appeared from behind her, still in his lion form. He didn’t do it that often, but she didn’t mind when he would shift and go on a run.

  After all, love is all about not suffocating the other person’s needs.

  While he transformed back into his human self before her eyes, Claudia took on a different, more seductive position. With a single enticing wave of her hand, she moved her bikini bottom to the side; just the way her panties were the first time they made love.

  Now human again, Dillon stared into her emerald eyes with sheer desire. In case his expression wasn’t enough, his fully engorged manhood spoke volumes about just what was on his mind. With the fury only a wild animal could muster, he leapt on top of her, burying himself all the way.

  Though love is like that, it doesn’t mean that you can’t drown them in other ways, of course.

  THE END

  Desired by the Alien Lord

  NORAH AND THE ALIEN LORD

  Norah Slattery, strapped into her seat in the passenger cabin of the envoy ship from Earth, used her linker, which rested in front of her on the table mounted to the cabin wall, to bring up a hologram of what lay out the front viewport of the ship. The hologram gave her the nearest thing to a first-hand look at the planet Sarma.

  It was an inviting-looking planet, she thought, even considering its recent history. It looked much like the Earth, a blue and green planet with bands and filigrees of white clouds. Sarma's continents had more hues of tan and rust than those of Earth, bespeaking a planet with larger desert and mountainous regions. But even these were as diverse as the corresponding regions that Norah knew back home. Sarma, she knew from the Interstellar Geographic reports, was filled with places that reminded her of the North American Southwest, the Badlands, and the Petrified Forest as well as the great Sahara. Once everything was sorted out politically and diplomatically with Sarma, which Earth had so recently contacted, there would no doubt be increasing tourist traffic to this planet. For now, most humans coming to Sarma were diplomats, government officials, and researchers like Norah.

  Norah appreciated the government back home sending her to Sarma in a private envoy ship, owing to the importance of what she was coming to do here. For the length of her trip, everything had been as comfortable as it could be in zero gravity, and the pilot and copilot had not intruded on her as she went over her project notes and made her plans for further study. She only wished they had assigned her a ship with artificial gravity, but such vessels were few in number even for government use. Artificial gravity was the rarest and most luxurious technology in demand just now, though it was expected to become standard in space vessels eventually. For this trip it was the usual deal of being strapped into her seat for most of it, or plodding around on the decks in magnetic boots as the only alternative to floating. Norah never much cared for floating, as nature had seen fit to give her a full and roundish figure and she always felt ungainly and self-conscious in freefall. She also had to pin back the brown hair that normally settled over her shoulders, lest it drift annoyingly into her face. One of these days, she often promised herself, I swear I'm just going to have these extra pounds lasered away so I'll be more comfortable when I have to leave Earth. She had just never gotten around to it.

  Regardless of all that, she would surely be more comfortable when she got where she was going; for on this, her first visit to Sarma, Norah was to be the guest of a lord.

  She tapped on her linker to dismiss the hologram of the planet, then tapped on the opaque crystal square again to bring up another hologram, this one the image of Lord Vashar. Truth be told, he did not strike her as a terribly lordly-looking person, in spite of his gold-leaf-patterned burgundy suit. It was not only because of the inverted triangle of hair down his forehead from his hairline to the bridge of his nose, which only marked him as Sarmian. It was because when Norah thought of a lord, her mind always gave her a somewhat archaic picture of an elder gentleman, perhaps mustachioed or bearded, with a paunchy belly, presiding over a lot of underlings. Lord Vashar was a complete contradiction of the image. She guessed his age at perhaps a couple of Earth years over thirty-five, certainly not yet forty—comparable to her own age. And Lord, but this lord was something handsome. With slightly tousled, dark brown hair and dark brown eyes to match, his features were like those of a leading man in a holovid. He had what Norah liked to call a bedroom face. Moreover, she could tell that the figure under that ornate suit must surely be a bedroom body. No doubt Vashar spent plenty of time out of his lordly vestments and between the sheets with the lucky ladies of Sarma.

  Norah, however, was a most fortunate engineer of the planet Earth, who had been sent to Sarma for the unveiling of the discovery in Lord Vashar's possession, which even now lay locked away on his estate. It was one of a series of such discoveries that had almost perfectly coincided with first contact between Earth and Sarma. The news of these discoveries had sent shockwaves through the political and scientific communities of known space. It was as momentous as the meeting of the genetically related peoples of Earth and Sarma themselves, for it would almost certainly change the entire understanding of galactic history and the place of all sentient beings in the universe. The eyes of civilization across space would be on Sarma when the presentation was made, and Norah Slattery would be there when it happened.

  To engage motion and sound she tapped on the display of Vashar standing in his elegantly furnished study, and the recording began to play. She had watched it several times, but the subject—and the presenter—were just so fascinating, she thought she would never tire of them.

  In the recording, Vashar stood
looking every bit the gentleman before a large curtain several heads taller than he and perhaps three times as wide. Sounding just the way he looked (his accent reminded Norah a bit of Earth's British) he went into a talk.

  "Brothers and sisters of Sarma and other gentlebeings," he began. “As you know, we are living in an unprecedented time in the galaxy. We had believed that the discovery of a shared ancestry between the people of Sarma and the people of the planet Earth was as remarkable and extraordinary a thing as this generation would ever know. We should have been contented to know that it was the most extraordinary thing to occur in this century and that we all lived to see it. But even in a time of wonders, it seems, there is yet more wonder to be known."

  Norah listened raptly as the gentleman of Sarma went on, his voice mesmerizing her as much as his appearance did. "With the discovery of our kinship with the human race of Earth came many speculations in the communities of science, not only on our own two planets but every other planet in known space. How could identical genetic markers appear in species from two different planets separated by thousands of light years? How did specimens of terrestrial life find their way to Sarma? Is it indeed that Sarma became the cradle of life from Earth, or did life from Sarma in fact make its way to that planet? And what agency accounts for this shared heritage? Who or what could have thus intervened in the natural histories of these respective planets?

  "The leading conjecture holds that aliens, ancient and powerful in the extreme, unknown and perhaps unknowable, visited one planet in its prehistory and delivered life from there to the other. Our most ancient mytho-history on Sarma tells us of ancient gods whom we call the Shapers, whom our most distant ancestors served. According to the tales of the dawn of our existence, 'twas truly the Shapers who made us the warriors we have always been; who bred us to battle in their own wars—until, for reasons and by means unknown, they disappeared, leaving us to our own devices. We have had no evidence of the reality of the Shapers save for texts, etchings, tapestries, and paintings that we have held for thousands of years—until now."