Protected By The Highlander (Medieval Romance)

by Veronica Wilson

  “She has something against you?”

  “Everyone has something against me, Mr. Ackerman. Or have you not noticed?” The female patron was still smiling, but now it was more ironic than sincere. “I’m well into my thirties, still not married, and teach these people’s children the theory of evolution. The only way they’d like me less would be if I dated other women.” Not beating around the bush, Jasmine grabbed her glass, emptying its contents into her mouth before James had a chance to say a word. “Given the alternatives, I might try even that in the near future…” she grumbled, more to herself than toward him. “Just kidding, really, I’m not into that kind of thing. But you are really good at making accurate conclusions, Mr. Ackerman. I really, really don’t fit in here. And the locals feel the same.” She chuckled for a bit, again trying to see what was behind those shades before giving up and finishing her speech. “If they could drive me off, I’m sure they would have by now. But no one else is insane enough to come to work in this gutter, so I guess we’re stuck with each other, this town and I.”

  “So you do not originate from this place?” James appeared occupied by his thoughts for a second before asking her a similar question. “Your family line, it is not originally from here?”

  “Whatever gave you that idea? The proud town of Wayward”—the woman made a mock gesture, as of a royal when talking about his or her roots—“has been the home of my line for generations. At least that’s what I’ve been told.”

  “Good to know,” James said, fumbling with something under the table with his right hand. Carefully, and before Jasmine had a chance to point it out, he pulled out a small item from beneath and placed it onto the flat surface between them.

  What in the world is this? The object was smooth and shaped like a slightly flattened egg. Vertical, bent lines appeared throughout its chrome surface, giving the thing a weird symmetry. It didn’t look like anything she’d ever seen.

  “That would be one fine-looking cell phone, if only it had some buttons or a screen,” Jasmine commented, driving the dark-haired man to almost break into laughter himself, despite the serious attitude he obviously tried to maintain.

  “That is no cell phone, Miss Paulson,” James replied, “but rather the instrument of my trade. You will be given a chance to help me with my work, as I’m sure a woman of your profession would. Am I right?”

  So all he ever wanted me for was to be a test subject…

  “So let me get this straight, you’ve let this conversation come this far, all as an overture for whatever you’re going to do with this thing?” Jasmine’s lips tightened, her gaze no longer mirthful. “You’re not really interested in me, are you? What you want is only to continue your work? Starting with me, right?”

  “I fail to see how one excludes the other,” he retorted, still grinning in his own charming way. The charm, however, now seemed more horrifying than alluring, similar to a cat’s expression before it pounced onto a mouse. “I would like you to be one of my subjects, yes, but that does not mean that I am not romantically interested in you. In fact, the sooner we get this little thing out of the way, the sooner we can—“

  Suddenly Jasmine stood up, hints of drunken rage visible in her eyes. Without uttering a word, she grabbed her jacket before turning toward the nearest exit and walking away. When she opened the door the stranger was still in his seat, staring after her with those shade-concealed eyes.

  I should have known that it was something like that, Jasmine told herself as she slammed the door behind her, disappearing into the night.

  ***

  Gasping for breath, Jasmine awoke nude in a strange white room, disoriented and barely able to focus. Aside from the padded, comfortable table she was strapped to, there was no furniture, doors, or windows. In fact, the entire chamber appeared more akin to the inside of a gigantic egg than anything else. Illumination was present, but it didn’t seem to come from any identifiable source, instead merely laying light on everything in an equal measure.

  How much did I have to drink last night?

  Baffled, Jasmine tried to conjure memories from whatever it was that came before this ordeal and regretted it immediately. The recollections came back, vivid and strong, but following them was a hefty dose of cerebral pain.

  She had run out of the bar, enraged at the stranger, James. Or, more precisely, angry with him showing more interest into her value as a research subject than as a woman. Although I can’t for the life of me figure out a reason anyone would be interested in my redneck heritage.

  Afterward, Jasmine drove home. Or attempted to, anyway. Leaving the parking lot was difficult; she could clearly conjure up the image of the car she had hit while leaving the place (although no vehicle was seriously damaged). The drive home was uneventful, at first. Then came the… the…

  Then came a beam of light, straight from above, hitting me right in the eyes and making me lose control, she finally remembered. This image came with an even more intense amount of pain than the previous ones. For a little bit, Jasmine wondered if the headache was caused by the alcohol she had imbibed or by something else entirely.

  Perhaps I’ve hit something, injuring myself in the process, she thought, before the reality of her situation hit her full force and pulled her out of the hazy state she was in.

  There were no further recollections, the beam of light being the last thing Jasmine saw before waking up in this room, immobilized like this. The very second she made that realization, a tight, painful feeling came into existence somewhere around her lower belly, turning into an agonizing inability to breathe within less than a second.

  I am being held captive! The words echoed throughout the inside of her skull, amplifying the pain with every agonizing moment. Shivering, she took the deepest breath she could manage before releasing all the accumulated air in one loud scream.

  “HELP!”

  Her shriek resounded throughout the round chamber, first growing more powerful, then gradually weakening before it disappeared completely.

  Almost immediately afterward, a dull, buzzing sound crept toward Jasmine, originating from somewhere beyond the foot of the table. Then, further amplifying her shock, the wall opened up.

  Entering through this newly made oval door was the individual who had previously introduced himself as James. He was completely nude, displaying every impressive piece of muscle that his clothed appearance concealed the first time she saw him. There was not a single piece of fat on that body, and every fiber could be seen moving underneath the skin in a marvelous display of masculinity.

  Even strapped to the table and helpless as she was, Jasmine could not help but turn her attention toward his manhood, and what she saw was equally as awe-inspiring as the rest of him, but soon another feature caught her attention and further amplified her panic—the man’s eyes. Devoid of whites and completely green, they glowed in the same way a bar of plutonium would glow in a cheap sci-fi movie. It did not exactly look bad, but rather thoroughly inhuman and, to a person in her position, horrifying.

  “Well, well, it appears that my guest is wide awake now,” James commented, taking slow and deliberate strides toward the table.

  Oh god, tell me that this isn’t happening.

  “Why couldn’t you just go with the program and put your finger into the device as I would have asked you, huh?” Her strange-eyed captor appeared quite angry, but still in control. Yet, given what he’d apparently done to her, there was no telling for how long that would last. “That would have saved you a whole lot of scares and discomfort.”

  “What are you doing to me, James? That is your true name, isn’t it?” The captive woman was not sure what kind of tone to take, so she pronounced every word in a slow, cautious way. Anything else was way too risky.

  “You didn’t seem this slow last night, Miss Paulson, so I’ll attribute your current lack of focus to disorientation, and maybe your previous intoxication. You know what I am going to do to you.”

  “You are going to
do your tests, right?” Jasmine asked, staring into the man’s bizarre single-colored eyes. They were captivating in a way, and she was just about to get used to the sight, when all of a sudden something changed within them. Several layers of green dots, not unlike diodes, flashed within those orbs, lingering for about half of a second before disappearing again.

  Seemingly in response the mechanical buzzing returned, and Jasmine felt her bed move slightly to the right while a strange, chrome-colored contraption sprouted from the floor right next to her. Simultaneously, the door that James had used to enter closed off, disappearing from her sight completely.

  Her heart now beating so fast it felt as if it was going to jump out of her chest, she swallowed her own spittle while trying to make sense of the device. It looked like something a dentist would use, maybe within the next century or two. Numerous, oddly shaped instruments stuck out from the five mechanical arms that the thing had, and even though it did not move yet, it horrified her to no end.

  “Of course I am,” the man replied, now less than a meter away from her prone body. Within seconds of getting close his manhood quickly reacted to the woman’s presence, engorging itself significantly. It did not get completely erect, but it was apparent that he at least had not lied to her completely about his interests.

  “I see that your second brain has some other ideas,” Jasmine commented, trying to alleviate her anxiety with some quick humor. It did not help.

  “The body wants what the body wants, Miss Paulson. My mission, however, ranks high above the simple needs of the flesh,” James replied, turning his head toward the grotesque device and lighting his eyes up again. With an unnerving sound of metal moving against metal, the device reacted, extending one of its arms toward the woman’s nude body, activating it along the way.

  It’s not sharp, she sighed in relief, noting that the mechanical limb that hovered over her face appeared more akin to a highly advanced lamp. Unless, of course, it’s some sort of laser.

  She didn’t have time to think about that possibility, though, for within less than a second the soft yellow light that the instrument emanated had bathed her face, producing no unpleasant sensation whatsoever.

  “You’ll be glad to know that you’ve passed the initial round of check-ups, by the way.” James spoke while the contraption was doing its thing, the diodes still lighting up in his eyes. “You are a viable candidate for my research. This examination you are about to undergo, however unpleasant, is the crucial step to determine whether you are the one.”

  The what? Jasmine wondered while the machine worked its way toward her belly, and further down. She was just about to ask him what he meant when the sight of his now completely erect member caught her attention. It was humongous, and the man’s complete lack of paying it any attention had made it all the more eye-grabbing.

  “Does this turn you on, James?” Jasmine couldn’t resist commenting, despite having no idea of how her captor would react. “Are bondage and flashlights your kind of thing?”

  “Don’t be silly.” James smiled for the first time since he’d entered the room, finally showing a little bit of the persona he had shown her tonight.

  “This stuff is not my kind of thing,” he continued, now allowing his inhuman gaze to meet her own. “You are.”

  Wide-eyed and mouth agape, the captive woman did not know how to react. Was he telling her the truth all the while?

  He most definitely wants me, she reminded herself, that knowledge calming the anxiety that threatened to tear her down from within. She was once again capable of rational though, and that capability was a comfort.

  “Do you do this to everyone you like, or just the ones you really like, then? Because, let me tell you, James, this is not that good of a relationship opener.” She managed to smile as she spoke, hopefully softening any blow that her response might have on this man’s possibly fragile ego.

  The explosion of anger that she expected didn’t follow, her captor replying with a widened grin instead. At first it was difficult for her to read the emotions of someone with no whites in his eyes, but now his expression appeared genuinely amused.

  “That’s a good part of why I like you so much, Jasmine. You possess a strong spirit, one that was way too fierce for that place I found you in. You’ll fit in perfectly when I get you home.” As if it reacted to what he said, the machine gave off a pleasant sound. It was not unlike that of a jackpot tune they’d play in a casino.

  Home?

  “And here we are,” James continued, now even more elated than he was a minute ago. “Phase two is a match as well. That is two down, one to go.” As he talked, the machine rotated, drawing the flashlight arm back toward itself, while extending another one forward. The instrument that stuck out from this mechanical limb, though, sent shivers down the woman’s spine. It was a long, segmented silver tentacle, slithering in an unsightly way.

  “Please don’t tell me that’s going where I think it’s going,” she gasped, grossed out of her mind.

  “The sooner we begin, the sooner it will be over,” James replied, the diodes in his eyes ordering the machine to proceed where it had to go.

  Oh, please no. She tried to squirm, but the straps that James had set immobilized her completely. The mechanical limb moved with calculated precision, and the instrument slid inside her with ease.

  It was not particularly thick or painful, but the coldness of the thing, combined with the disgusting appearance she knew it had, turned the experience into a thoroughly unpleasant one. The segmented instrument buzzed and felt around, bending at unpleasant and not-so-unpleasant angles, making every moment seem like a small eternity.

  By the time it was over she was almost out of breath, her horror the only thing that kept her conscious. Furiously, she turned her head toward her captor, ready to spit in his face.

  “You… you sick, vicious bastard!” Jasmine was just about to go through with her plan, when the sight of James silenced her on the spot. His erection was gone, as he apparently did not take pleasure from doing what he did to her, which was a bit of a relief. His expression, however, was that of outright joy.

  “I suggest we leave the pillow talk for later, Jasmine,” he finally said, turning that inhuman gaze back toward her own. “Now is a time for celebration, instead. Congratulations, Miss Paulson, you are a perfect match.”

  A perfect match for what?

  “I suppose that you have questions.” He turned his head back toward the horrible machine, the diodes in his eyes lighting up again and making it fold back into itself and meld into the floor. Within a second, Jasmine’s bed moved again, returning to the position it held before this horrible ordeal began. “I suggest that you ask them now. We probably won’t get much time to talk once we arrive.”

  “Arrive where? What did you just do to me? What am I a match for?” Jasmine spouted the words so fast they almost joined into a single sentence.

  “We are going back to my home planet, of course. You will be highly welcome there, being genetically compatible to bear the children of my great race. That, of course, was my original mission.”

  For several seconds, Jasmine could not even breathe, let alone speak, the words sticking in her throat. James is an alien? The idea was completely insane. So was everything else, however. One more degree of madness didn’t make that much of a difference.

  “But… but you look just like we all do! Besides the eyes, I mean.”

  “Appearances are but a formality where I come from, Jasmine. When you reach a certain degree of technological advancement, even the sky is no longer a limit. The eyes, unfortunately, are a complete necessity. Altering them would be highly impractical.”

  “So your appearance is the result of surgery?”

  “Sure, as much as nuclear physics is the result of a caveman grinding a couple of stones together in order to create fire,” James replied, a bit too eager to continue conversing with her.

  One thing did not change, she noted. He is still comple
tely full of himself.

  “I understand,” she responded, thinking things through for a short moment. “So, let me get this straight—the reason you came to earth is that you can’t get a girlfriend?”

  This was risky, she knew, but it was the only real option she had. James was not completely detached from the situation. He actually liked her, even if he did not admit it to himself, and that meant that she had at least some degree of influence over his alien mind.

  “I am here because the survival of our great race is in question!” he yelled out in response, his veneer of self-control cracking for the first time since they met. “Did you ever have that burden dropped onto your back, Jasmine? Did you get sent to scour a desert full of inbred simpletons, told to find a promising candidate among that rabble? Don’t make me laugh. The greatest crisis you’ve ever had to endure was getting through Saturday night.”

  She could have argued his point. She could have noted the darkest parts of her life, and all the ways in which he was wrong, but she didn’t. Instead, she merely asked him a question.

  “Is it worth it, then? Giving me up to whoever it was who ordered you to do this, despite your feelings for me?”

  Tightening his lips, James merely stared at her, disbelieving what it was that she had just said. She was right, and his expression was as easy to read as an open book.

  “You don’t know the first thing about me, human.”

  “Really? Do you want me to take notes? Fine. First off, I know that you did not lie to me once since the time I’ve met you in that gutter of a bar. Sure, you’ve told me a lot of half-truths, but not once did you say an actual lie. I saw the way you looked at me, both clothed and nude, and you can’t fake that. Real, actual human beings take decades to perfect the skill and even they are not as good at it as you’d like me to think you are. Want me to go on?”

  “No. You’ve made your point.” James’ expression was similar to the one that people would wear around a graveyard. “Let’s assume that you are right. What then?”