The Clone’s Mate by Susan Trombley
Twenty-Four
I had no idea how much time passed before I finally awoke from an exhausted, dreamless slumber. You would think I’d have had nightmares after all I’d been through, but I couldn’t remember a single thing other than falling asleep on the tiny cot in a tiny cabin with Subject 34 wedged right next to me, taking up all the floor space.
He’d insisted in his wordless way that he would guard over me while I slept. While I didn’t like that he might be uncomfortable, I also wasn’t sure he was. He liked tight crevices and spaces, and he didn’t need a soft mattress to lay on with all that chitin protecting him. He also had no problem sleeping in almost any position, though I wasn’t sure how much he’d actually slept during my rest.
Evil Ilyan didn’t murder us in our sleep—a courtesy I couldn’t help but appreciate. Granted, getting past Subject 34 would be tough for anyone, least of all an underweight, half-starved, exhausted evil space fairy. Maybe he was just waiting for the murdering until he got his strength back up.
Or, maybe he wasn’t as homicidal as Nirgal seemed to think. Granted, I couldn’t ignore Nirgal’s story of the whole asteroid thing, but since Evil Ilyan refused to give his own side of that tale, I wasn’t entirely certain Nirgal’s story was accurate.
Speaking of Nirgal, I should probably get around to checking on him at some point. The anxiety I felt about his condition constantly nagged at me, though I tried to keep it pushed to the back of my mind.
I crawled off my cot once Subject 34 cleared some floor space, yawning hugely and feeling like I’d played chicken with a semi-truck and lost. My whole body ached, and I still felt wiped out. By the time I finished rubbing the sleep out of my eyes and opened them, I came face to face with a familiar erection.
Honestly, I should have been used to this by now, and to a certain extent, I was. I didn’t hesitate to close my lips around Subject 34’s girth and suck hungrily, my hand curling around his shaft beneath my lips. That part wasn’t necessary for me, or him, but he liked it, and I liked the way it made his whole body vibrate with pleasure. I also liked how it made him pump arousal pheromones into the air, so my head spun with them, and my core ached to have him inside me.
Making love to him would be tricky in this tight space. After all, he was standing partly in the corridor in order to allow me space to sit up on the cot to suck him. In fact, as much as I wanted to, I doubted we could complete the act while in these tight quarters.
So, I made the most of stroking my lips over his length, my cheeks hollowing as my head bobbed. I licked his shaft and the head of his erection in teasing flicks, and he rewarded me with a flow of his delicious ejaculate. He’d somehow altered the taste of it over time, asking me in single word questions what flavors I liked and managing to replicate the basics, like sweet and savory, with more complex flavors of spices increasing with each iteration.
I don’t think he’d expected that feeding me like this would be so pleasurable for him when he’d first done it, but based on his reactions, I knew that he enjoyed it as much as I did. Each time we did it, the process ended up lasting longer, as he slowed the flow of his fluid so that I had to tease and suck it out of him. I would say he was making me work for it, if I didn’t enjoy doing it so much.
When he finally sated me, it was my turn, and I had to admit I was grateful I’d had the chance to take a shower in this shuttle, though the confines of the “cleansing closet” had been tight for me. To be fair, they would be tight for a twelve-year-old, so it wasn’t a size issue. Especially since my unusual diet had thinned my body a bit, though Subject 34 seemed to prefer me at a fluffier weight. I think he worried when I grew much thinner than I had been when he’d first seen me. Whatever was in that fluid he created, it had plenty of calories.
I doubted my own “fluid” reciprocated. I wasn’t even sure it contained anything of value for him, yet he seemed to savor making me come, then licking it from inside me. I wasn’t about to complain. Again, he had to take up most of the corridor to work his head between my thighs after divesting me of the jumpsuit I’d found in a drawer filled with them.
Though the suit was a tight and awkward fit that was made for a lean, male body, it came off pretty easily, though Subject 34 left it crumpled around my calves as he feasted on my slit. All four of his hands caressed my naked body while I writhed in pleasure, approaching a powerful orgasm.
I shuddered with a series of soft cries as I climaxed, my inner muscles convulsing as 34 delved his tongue inside me, licking eagerly at my cum. My lower back arched, but he kept my hips pinned in place with his upper hands so he could feed. His lower hands slid over my trembling thighs, his claws teasingly scraping my sensitive skin.
Now, this was the breakfast of champions! I had never been a morning person before this, but I gotta say, waking up was now the second-best part of my day. Dinnertime was the first. Actually, both were pretty damned good. As were the occasional snack times.
This “exchange of resources,” as nerdy Nirgal would say, put a whole new meaning into the words, “I love to eat.”
Not only did I finish “breakfast” feeling sated, but also incredibly relaxed and pumped with feel-good hormones.
It made facing my current situation a little easier as Subject 34 finally let me up and helped me pull my jumpsuit back on.
As good as I felt, I still had to sigh heavily as I squared my shoulders, my brain kicking into gear and out of post-coital mode. “So, we have to deal with Evil Ilyan somehow,” I muttered to 34, “and check on Nirgal.” I chewed my bottom lip, feeling an uncomfortable clutch of worry in my stomach.
I still felt sick recalling poor Nirgal’s condition. I really hoped that healing tank worked miracles, because I wasn’t sure an ICU in a hospital could handle what had been done to him.
“34 protect Ronda,” he said with supreme confidence in his tone.
Actually, I wasn’t sure if that was what his tone said. He didn’t have much tonal variation when he spoke aloud. Most of the emotion in his sounds came from his chitters and growls, where there was plenty of variation. I just assumed confidence in this case because Subject 34 was unflappable most of the time. If he were upset—like truly, genuinely upset—he would shriek like a horror movie monster and then tear something apart. Fortunately, I doubted that something would ever be me.
“What should I do about Ilyan?” I whispered, cautiously peeking out into the corridor where Subject 34 now stood, blocking the path.
I assumed if anyone was out there eavesdropping or had been enjoying the previous show, he would have let me know. It looked all clear, but there were probably cameras or open intercoms or something in this shuttle. I should probably be careful what I said about the current pilot of this vessel.
“Ronda want?” Subject 34 asked, with no inflection in his voice.
If he were a human male, I would be searching for a hint of jealousy or unhappiness in his tone, but I honestly doubted I’d be able to detect it even if he felt it. So, I had to outright ask, even while wondering if Ilyan—and his evil other half—was someone I could handle. I mean, I’d worried that he would murder me in my sleep. That kind of thing doesn’t make for a good, trusting, stable relationship. He was broken, and I didn’t know that anyone could fix him, least of all, me.
“I don’t know if it’s safe to even consider taking him on as a lover,” I said, still in quiet voice.
34 cocked his head, his dark eyes regarding me with a curious expression pulling his brows together. “34 safe?”
I chuckled since his question made him sound almost offended. I patted his chitin-covered chest reassuringly. “Only for me, babe. You’re only safe for me.”
He slowly nodded his head as if still unsure of the gesture. He’d made the effort to mimic my movements as he came to understand their meanings, but he was still learning, and not entirely thrilled with them, if I read his reluctance correctly.
“Ilyan safe for Ronda.”
That wasn’t a question, but it certainly raised plenty of them in me. “How do you know?”
“Otherwise, 34 kill. Ilyan smart. Not want to die. Not hurt Ronda.”
My mouth fell open as I absorbed his words. I probably shouldn’t have been hoping for 34 to claim that Ilyan loved me madly and could never bring himself to hurt me. My monster lover was far too pragmatic for that, and likely hadn’t even considered it. After all, I’d had to explain the concept of love to him, and I wasn’t sure I’d done a very good job.
“I don’t know what I should do, 34!” If he had said that he didn’t want me to take Ilyan as a lover, then the question would be easily resolved, full stop.
I might have felt a bit of disappointment. Maybe more than a bit, because I had to admit to my own shame that the green guy did put some butterflies in my stomach when I should have been wholly focused on Subject 34. Regardless of how he might make me feel, I had always placed my fidelity above all else.
Yet, this situation was far different from any I might have encountered before. For one thing, the Iriduans apparently had a polyamorous culture that meant they were accustomed to a female having multiple partners. For another thing, Subject 34 genuinely didn’t seem that concerned about losing my affection if I took Ilyan as another lover.
Not that he needed to be. I loved him and would do anything for him, but even with that kind of reassurance many human men would feel jealous and insecure, and I couldn’t honestly say I’d blame them, as I would never want to share Subject 34 with another woman. I’d been deeply scarred when Michael had left me for another woman, and I hadn’t felt the intensity of emotion for him that I felt for 34.
In truth, I feared that I wouldn’t be able to spread my love around without diminishing it, as I’d never been in love with more than one person at a time before. The last thing I wanted was to have a partner who felt neglected or less loved than my other partner.
I had no idea how the Iriduan females dealt with such a challenge. Making multiple lovers happy seemed daunting. Especially when one of them had some serious mental issues that I would also have to navigate with absolutely zero training or any true understanding of his condition. I had a feeling it differed significantly from anything I would have encountered with a human, and it wasn’t like I knew what to do when it came to human psychology either.
The only person who could probably best explain Ilyan’s fracture to me—other than Ilyan himself, and I didn’t want to force him to speak frankly about it—was currently in a healing tank. I wasn’t even sure if Nirgal now had a fracture of his own. If he did, maybe he wouldn’t want to talk about it either.
34 brushed his claws through my hair, smoothing the strands that were nice and clean after my shower, though a little tangled from sleep. “Ronda take. Don’t like, then kill.”
“What?” I shook my head sharply. “No, 34! That’s not okay!” I sighed in exasperation, but hugged him around the waist, avoiding his stinger marks. “You can’t just use people like that and then toss them aside if you grow tired of them. You especially can’t just kill them if you don’t want them anymore!”
I rested my chin on his chest, staring up at him. “If I took Ilyan as a lover, then it would be a forever thing for me. Just like it’s a forever thing for me when it comes to you. I couldn’t accept anything less for myself, and I’d never expect anyone else to accept less than forever.”
Subject 34’s shrug was one thing he’d gotten very good at, it being the one human gesture he appeared to relish. “Ronda choose. 34 not kill what belongs to Ronda.”
He was a menace. For real! Still, I couldn’t help but love the monster. It was pretty heady that he had so much devotion to me. His pragmatic simplicity was also oddly charming in comparison to the way I’d always overthink everything, second-guessing myself constantly—like I was doing in this situation. I found Ilyan more than attractive. I’d sort of bonded with him while we were in captivity, and according to his own words, he’d ended up bonding to me. Subject 34 seemed to be perfectly fine with me taking him as a lover, and Ilyan seemed to accept me having another lover.
I wouldn’t dwell on the fact that Ilyan had mentioned Nirgal as if he also was mine. We had no idea what condition Nirgal would be in, if he even survived, but I doubted it would involve being bonded to me. Besides, I still had some bones to pick with him. I wasn’t sure if I could ever picture myself even kissing the guy, much less making love to him.
Even if he had kind of grown on me. I had never understood how someone could end up feeling any kind of affection or attachment to their captor, until it happened to me.
Nirgal was a problem I didn’t need to deal with at the moment. I needed to decide what to do about Ilyan, and how to handle Evil Ilyan.
And then, there was still the question of where we should go now. I was guessing Earth was out of the question, given it had apparently been taken over by aliens. I supposed I could point to some distant star and say, sure, head there. Why not?
But what I wanted was to find somewhere that I could be with Subject 34 without us being constantly monitored and studied like lab rats. I wanted to find a place where we could build some kind of home and live a life that was peaceful-ish—I mean, I couldn’t expect 34 to turn into a tame pet, and I wouldn’t want that anyway, so complete peace probably wasn’t in the cards if I stayed with him.
If I kept Ilyan with me—if I took him as a mate the way he seemed to want—then I would have to contend with the less than peaceful Evil Ilyan as well, which meant more challenges to my daydream of peace and quiet and white picket fences and cookouts with the neighbors.
The two dangerous males were more likely to kill our neighbors than host a BBQ for them.
