Taken by the Alien Warrior: Scifi Romance Read online

  Taken by the Alien Warrior

  Scifi Romance

  Linda Mathers

  Contents

  Newsletter

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  BONUS

  Scifi Romances

  About the Author

  Newsletter

  Copyright © Fiery Desires, 2017

  Linda Mathers has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.

  Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.

  Fiery Desires

  32 Woodburn Dr

  Gloucester, Ontario

  K1B3A7

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  1

  Carrie was in her pajamas, settled into her couch after a long day when she heard it. A strange hum coming from outside.

  She set down her ice cream and went to the window of her country house. Drawing back the curtains, she was surprised to see a bright light coming from above. What the heck? The whirring hum grew louder, coming from everywhere at once, filling the air with a low vibrating rumble. Pictures on the wall began to rattle, the spoon she had set across her ice cream bowl vibrated and toppled off the bowl with a clank.

  Carrie wasn't scared, but she was concerned, certainly curious. Her best guess was that it was a helicopter, looking for something perhaps, or maybe in some kind of trouble. Unsure what to do, she went to the door, opened it and stepped onto her front porch. Normally, the gentle sounds of crickets would have welcomed her, chirping in the darkness from the thicket of trees bordering her large yard. She loved her rural Tennessee home, she had worked hard for it. It wasn't easy for a woman to make it in video game designing. For all its 'progressive' modernity it was still a place dominated by men. Not men, she often thought, watching them at conferences and in the office, more like boys. They loved their weed and their zombies and their overly skinny waif-like girls with no brains and designer tits. The only thing harder than making it as a girl in this business is making it as a fat girl.

  Carrie wasn't fat, but she liked to think she was. She was big, sure, a bit soft around the middle, too many bowls of ice cream and not enough bowls of fruit salad, but she wasn't too overweight. "Just enough," her best friend told her on occasion, "to make those curves work for a living."

  Carrie wished Eva were with her now. Whatever was up with that helicopter was enough to wish for a friend to be there too. She checked her pocket as she stepped further onto the porch. Nope. Where was her phone? Right, she remembered, it's on the table on the book. She had been reading science fiction and eating banana ice cream: a night in heaven.

  Her plan was to check out the commotion outside, assess the situation, and then call Eva and gossip about it. It was a good plan. A comforting and normal plan.

  The entire yard radiated with pure white light from above. The hum intensified, vibrating the windows of her house, causing her ears to itch. She left the porch, moving into the yard. Looking up, all she could see was blinding white light. It's too big for helicopter. She was right, but she had no idea what else it could be. It couldn't be an airplane, they don't hover. Maybe it’s some weird military ship, Colorado Springs is less than a hundred miles away, it's not unprecedented for top-secret maneuvers to go down in the foothills around here. Still... What the...

  She could see it now, whatever it was. It was descending, coming closer to the ground behind the cover of its bright spotlight. The ship was round, massive. It dropped lower in the sky, hovering a hundred meters above her house. The hum began to grow, its pitch increasing, getting higher and higher. Carrie had to cover her ears as she squinted into the light.

  Her hand instinctively fell to her pocket again, feeling for her phone. Whatever this is, I'm calling Eva now. This is...

  A green circle opened in the middle of the bright white light. Carrie was transfixed as it began to glow, a swirl of energy cascading around the edges of the green circle. This is... The emerald sphere began to pulse and grow. Carrie's neck ached as she stared up at it. The green glow suddenly became a beam, shooting down, cutting through the bright white light around it.

  Bathed in the green glow, Carrie felt a swirling crackle of static electricity rush around her body. Her hair stood on end, goose pimples pocked her skin. She stepped back, realizing what a bad idea this was, but was surprised to find she couldn't move. She struggled but it was no use. Her arms pinned against her sides, her legs stuck to the grass beneath her feet. Her heart pounded behind her large breasts, her breaths came short and sharp in her anxiety. And then she began to rise, her feet leaving the ground. Oh my god, I can't... She couldn't do anything.

  Floating up, up, moving towards the strange circular vessel in the sky. Twenty-meters in the air, she managed to look down, immediately wishing she hadn't. Moving further, above the roofline now, she saw the Frisbee on the roof, the one Eva had thrown up there last summer and Carrie had told herself a dozen times she would get down until, months later, she had forgotten all about it.

  Sixty meters in the air and she looked up, her fear overtaking her senses, tears streaming down her chubby cheeks. She could see it now, the ship, and as she came closer to it, she finally understood. Those markings, they're letters or numbers or something. But its no language I've ever seen. Seventy meters now. It's not from Earth. Eighty. It wasn't built by human hands. Ninety. She could see the rivets and lines of the metal plates that constructed the ship. Ninety-five.

  She saw a door opening behind the green light, she could hear the mechanisms rolling it back into the hull of the ship. At one hundred meters, she breached the doorway, finding herself in a large dark chamber.

  It's alien. Her lips quivered as her tears fell. She was helpless. Oh my God, she thought, the light finally releasing her, dropping her to the metal floor with a boom. I've been fucking abducted by aliens.

  Eva would never believe it.

  2

  “... and those of you who have been chosen are granted a great honor."

  Carrie didn't believe it. It didn't sound like an honor. Not one bit. It sounded like slavery. Like kidnapping and slavery bound to end in misery for the so-called 'honored' ones.

  The broad, muscular humanoid alien smoothed the dark robe over its equally dark tunic, tapped the end of its metal staff on the floor. "You have been chosen for your fragility and beauty, traits the Morkori admire in their pets."

  "We're not pets," a middle-aged bald man shouted. "We're not slaves or toys or whatever you think we are. We're humans, we have minds. We think, we have technology, we have art and science. If you just talk to some people back on Earth I know we can...”

  "Silence," the Morkori commanded, striking the man in the ribs with the end of his staff. The man gasped in pain and fell to his knees clutching his cracked ribs. The Morkori looked over Carrie and the other twenty men and women on display in the dimly lit chamber. "We know you and your species well.
You have been vetted for years, a coveted prize to be awarded at just the right time." The male, at least she thought it was a male, stepped towards Carrie and ran his thick fingers over her shoulder-length black hair. "We could not waste the unveiling of such a... unique trophy for just any occasion. You have been delivered now on this glorious day, to be taken across time to Morkoro where you shall bear witness to the most spectacular display of combat the universe has ever seen."

  "We're..." Carrie was understandably confused, but still, she didn't mean to speak. She knew better but could not stop herself, her nerves getting the best of her. "What?"

  The hulking Morkori smiled an uncomfortably handsome smile, raising his arms in the air in reverence. "You are prizes for each of the winners at the Harvest Gladiatorial Tournament, trophies for the warriors who prove fit enough to survive. Only the strongest are allowed to enter the games," the Morkori said, sweeping his gaze across the frightened humans. "Only the best will be adding you, such valuable prizes, to their personal collections."

  Carrie wanted to protest but she caught hold of her tongue. Instead, she turned her head, staring at the young blonde athletic girl wearing running shorts, a tank top, and a pink baseball cap. The look on the girl's face somehow comforted Carrie. It let her know, if nothing else, that blonde girl was thinking the same thing as she was. This is bad. This is very bad.

  After being stripped, washed, and redressed in soft linen tunics, Carrie and the others were led down a series of corridors. At a large pinwheel junction, five hallways intersecting at odd angles, they were wordlessly split up, armed guards leading small groups down different passages. Carrie found herself alone with the girl in the baseball cap. They were guided down a hallway by four massively muscled grey-skinned Morkori, each one dressed in a simple dark tunic, barefoot, and carrying sharp, swooping battle-axes.

  In the small herd, Carrie accidently stepped on the back of the heel of the guard directly in front of her. She stumbled. He paused and steadied her, casting her a hard glare as he did so. Their eyes met. Something in his eyes shifted, only for a moment. Was that... The guard's stare lingered longer than he expected. He quickly faced forward and added an extra spring to his steps.

  Carrie wasn't sure what to think. She had no idea where they were going. At least she knew where she was going to end up. Morkoro. The gladiator pits. In a cage in some killer's personal zoo. That's where she was going, but right then, at that moment, she had no idea where those guard's were taking her.

  That guard, he... She tried to place that look, tried to convince herself that she wasn't fooling herself, simply thinking something was there because she needed it to be there. Like that guy at the computer store. I do this all the time.

  Down some stairs, through several dimmer corridors, Carrie continued to think until she made her decision. No, I saw it, it was real. It was sympathy. Compassion. She was forced to stop in front of a wide metal door, the guards stepping back, forming a fan around Carrie and Baseball Cap.

  The guard she had tripped on stepped forward and swiped his bracelet over a control panel beside the doorframe. The panel beeped and the door slid open. He glanced back, once again meeting Carrie's eyes. Yes, she saw it again, it’s true.

  "You may enter," the guard said, averting his gaze. He made way for the two women to enter. "We will bring you food once you've settled."

  Carrie walked past him, trying to catch his eyes again but failing as he turned his head away. She entered the room and the lights snapped on. Behind her the door slid shut with a soft whisper of metal. She looked around, her head swimming.

  Well, this is unexpected, she thought, stepping further into the room.

  3

  Carrie settled into the long plush couch and ate another strawberry. She glanced at Deana, the girl in the baseball cap.

  "At least we're riding in style," Carrie said, offering Deana the bowl of fruit. "Well," she added, her mood returning, "for now."

  Their 'prison cell' was a large chamber filled with pillows, cushions, sofas, blankets, and various bowls and platters of Earth fruit and snacks. In the two days since they were escorted there, not much had happened. The Morkori had been bringing them warm meals and drinks several times a day. It didn't take long for Carrie to realize that whether by orders or choice, the guard she had tripped on had brought their meals more often than any other.

  That morning, she had finally learned his name. Jardan. She tried to get more out of him but he told her he couldn't. "Look," he said, looking around uncomfortably, "all I can tell you is that I'm sorry this has happened to you. You seem like a..." he licked his lips, "nice... person." He pulled something wrapped in a napkin from his pocket. "I can't help you, but I can make it better for you. Take this." She took it.

  "It's a special Morkori delight. A rare fruit that tastes as beautiful as it looks." He met her eyes again, his grey skin growing darker on his cheeks.

  Is he blushing? Carrie thanked him, wanting to ask more, but the moment was over. Jardan closed the door, his head down, his footsteps growing fainter as he walked away.

  That was this morning, and now, near lunch, Carrie found herself oddly giddy, a little impatient. Oh my god, she realized, I'm nervous about seeing him. She laughed at herself. I have a crush on my guard. She paced the room, shaking her head. What a friggin' idiot I am.

  "What's your problem?"

  Carrie stopped moving. She looked at Deana. "What do you mean?"

  From the couch where she lounged, her short tunic tucked up under her legs, one strap lolling off her shoulder, Deana smirked. "You're pacing around, smiling and talking to yourself."

  "I wasn't," Carrie said defensively. Deana raised an eyebrow. Carrie thought about it. "Did I say all that out loud?"

  Deana chuckled. "You said something, then you called yourself an idiot."

  Carrie wanted to explain, to at least say something in defense, but no words would come to mind. The lock to the door made a loud click, drawing their attention. Saved by the bell.

  The door slowly opened and Jardan entered, carrying a large tray with two covered plates and two glasses of juice. "I have your lunch," he said, smiling at Carrie. "I managed to sneak you both an extra piece of meat."

  Carrie came up to his side. "Thank you."

  Jardan's smile grew wide. "My pleasure," he said, adding softly, "I enjoy seeing you smile."

  Carrie's eyes wandered over the guard's muscular body. He was stocky, built like a lithe tank. His grey skin was oiled and smelled warm and earthy. Sexy. His face was handsome, a bit wider than a normal human face, but striking none-the-less. Jardan had a classic handsomeness, Carrie found herself thinking of Carey Grant as she stared at his chiseled cheekbones. He has a beautiful smile.

  She was surprised by her feelings in the moment. She wanted to touch him, to run her hands over his strong chest. Understanding that her unexpected rush of emotion was ill timed, she spoke instead. "Can I ask you a question?"

  He thought about it a second. He wasn't supposed to talk to their captives, he knew that, but there was something about this woman that made him forget who he was, what he was doing, in the few minutes he had to share with her each day. He leaned closer to her. "You may ask," he said. "But please do so quickly."

  "How long until we get to Moroko?"

  "In your time scale, we have three more weeks," he replied.

  Carrie nodded, wanting to stretch their conversation but not knowing what to ask. All of her other questions seemed inappropriate for the circumstances. Do you have a girlfriend? Do you find me as attractive as I find you? Are you as horny as I am? She pushed those thoughts aside. "So..." What are you doing? He kidnapped you. He is taking you as a slave to some alien planet. "... have you always been a guard?" Oh Carrie, you're such an idiot.

  Jardan smiled. "No, before I was a gladiator." He stood a little straighter. "I was a champion."

  "Really?" she replied.

  He nodded, and as he did so, his eyes dropped. He looked at her
body, round and curvy, full breasts barely concealed by her tunic. Her thick thighs and long calves. He looked back up, examined her face. She's breathtaking, he thought.

  For a moment, their eyes locked. Electricity shocked them both from their cores outward. He licked his lips, and Carrie felt warmth flush through her privates.

  "I'll be back later with dinner," Jardan finally said. "We can talk more then."

  Carrie nodded, unable to speak in her fluster.

  He left her alone with her hormones, holding a tray with two plates of the same meal, it must have been the only thing the Morkori thought humans ate: Thanksgiving dinner, complete with microwaved stuffing.

  4

  It went on like that for two weeks, and then, with little explanation, Deana was moved to a different cell. Carrie was alone in her chamber.

  During that entire time, Jardan and Carrie continued their little talks and, she assumed, their mutual attraction. The night Deana was moved, something else surprising happened. Jardan came in.

  He opened the door and walked in, closing it behind him and standing with the tray of food for one. "May I come in?"

  Carrie smiled tentatively. "I think you've already answered that."

  Jardan grinned. "I just thought it was better to not hesitate. I only have a little time."

  Carrie went to him, offering to take the tray. "Then come in," she said. "Grab a seat." She realized that, as she took the tray, she instinctively leaned in to give him a 'welcome home, honey' kiss on the cheek. She stopped herself. He chuckled and went to the couch.

  "So," he asked, seeming a bit nervous, much to Carrie's amusement, "have you been comfortable enough?" When she didn't answer right away, he realized how that must have sounded. "I mean," he quickly amended, "considering the unfortunate circumstances."