The Clone’s Mate by Susan Trombley
Twenty-Six
Okay, maybe I deserved that. I mean, I had assumed he would say something to ruin the mood without giving him a chance to prove that he wasn’t a total asshole. Maybe he didn’t plan to say something so hurtful, but I hurt him first, and so he struck back at me with something he knew would cause pain.
Yeah, I was gonna go with that because Subject 34 was looking a bit homicidal as he glared at the back of Ilyan’s chair after my recoil and gasp of shock.
Now was probably the time to retreat for a bit and think about things, because I was pretty sure it might be my fault this whole experience ended up going bad. After all, everything had been really, really good until I decided that Ilyan was going to screw it all up with a few words and reacted a bit hastily.
Michael would do that to me all the time. We’d have sex. I’d be basking in the afterglow, and then he’d make a comment that would destroy the mood. Usually, it was something about my weight. I suppose I’d decided that Ilyan could be as cutting and cruel as Michael—perhaps even more so, given his obvious sense of superiority—and I’d been on the defensive.
It was possible that he would have said exactly what he ended up saying, cutting me deep, just like he ended up doing. I mean, I had a thing for the guy, but I wasn’t under many illusions when it came to his personality. His arrogance was evident in every line of his body—when Ilyan was in charge of it.
The interesting thing was that “Evil Ilyan” didn’t carry himself the same way, with that same superior confidence. I found that curious even as my ego was stung as I turned to leave the cockpit, insisting Subject 34 just leave it alone when he looked like he wanted to drag Ilyan out of his seat and beat on him for a while.
Or just kill him, because Subject 34 was pretty efficient, and didn’t usually bother with warnings.
Since I still felt this was mostly my fault, I didn’t want anything to happen to Ilyan. I had to process too many emotions about what had just happened and sticking around to play mediator between the two alien males in my life would be too much for me to handle right now.
As I approached the door, Ilyan spoke without turning around in his chair. “You still haven’t decided where we plan to go.” His tone was hard and cold, without any hint of affection or even uncertainty.
Oh yeah, he was pissed. “Uh… do you have any suggestions? I mean, I’m guessing Earth is out of the question.”
His condescending snort raised my hackles, but I pushed aside my irritation, reminding myself that his attitude might very well be my own fault.
“Returning to Earth with your test subject would be suicide. In fact, going almost anywhere with that creature will be difficult. If you want a suggestion, you’ll have to tell me what, exactly, you intend to do for the foreseeable future.”
He still wouldn’t turn around in his chair, so I couldn’t see his expression or body language, but his tone made it clear he wasn’t pleased at all with me.
“I want to find somewhere that we could make a home together,” I said, realizing how unlikely it would be that such a place existed.
Finally, Ilyan turned in his chair and I noted that he’d righted his jumpsuit, just as I’d quickly fixed mine to cover all the evidence of what had happened between us. Well, all the evidence save for what was soaking the crotch of my jumpsuit—the slippery reminder of our combined orgasms.
He leaned forward, his gaze as cold and hard as bottle glass. Again, I wondered which one of his fractures was the “evil” one. I might have been getting things wrong from the start.
“The only places where you would be able to safely live with,” he shot a disdainful glare at Subject 34, who growled in response, “that, is an uninhabited world.” He leaned back against his seat again, his wings flaring behind him. He rested his elbows on the seat arms and steepled his long fingers in front of him. “Or the CivilRim, I suppose. If you aren’t concerned about routine violence.”
“That doesn’t sound promising.”
Ilyan shrugged one shoulder, still holding his evil villain pose. His handsome face looked so chilly and remote that I was kicking myself for possibly screwing up whatever was between us before it could even begin. “The ‘Civilized’ Rim is a misnomer, if there ever was one. It is the shore where every outlaw, outcaste, and dreg of polite society washes up.” He huffed, his brows lowering to cast his eyes in shadow. “So it could be the perfect place for us.”
Well, he still said “us” so maybe I hadn’t completely screwed things up with him. He didn’t look very interested in continuing what we’d started.
“Is there somewhere specific on this CivilRim that you were thinking of?”
“There’s a black-market world I’ve heard of, though I’ve never personally been there.”
The way his gaze shifted to one of uncertainty made me suspect he might have actually been there, although perhaps he hadn’t been the one in the driver’s seat at the time.
“Sounds dangerous,” I said with my own uncertainty.
“34 protect Ronda,” my beloved Subject 34 responded before Ilyan could.
Ilyan shot another irritated glare at 34, who flicked his wings, chittering sharply at the Iriduan.
“It is true that Subject 34 will prove useful in such an environment.” Ilyan lowered his steepled fingers, using one hand to gesture to 34 in a dismissive manner. “Even his appearance won’t be questioned. There are many species not recognized by the Syndicate that have found their way to the CivilRim, most through the slave trade.”
“You’re not putting a slave collar on me, so don’t even suggest it.” I crossed my arms over my chest, shaking my head firmly.
“As intriguing as that thought is,” he muttered as some emotion flickered in his eyes that had my core clenching in response, “It isn’t likely to be necessary. You’ll have him,” he jerked his chin at 34, “for protection, and Nirgal and I to handle the details of life on the Rim. All you’ll have to do is sit back and look pretty as your males serve you.” He scowled and I had no problem detecting the bitterness in his tone. “It’s what will be expected when those who understand my species see two Iriduans with a female.”
“That’s not what I want from you, Ilyan.” I sighed, running a hand through my hair, recalling how good it had felt to have him clenching his fingers in it. “Or… uh… Nirgal.” I felt a blush rising to my cheeks that made no sense, unless I acknowledged that I did have some feelings towards Nirgal that I shouldn’t have.
I glanced quickly at Subject 34. “I don’t want you to serve me, either, 34. I want us to be equal partners in our relationship.”
“We aren’t human males,” Ilyan snapped, slamming his fist down on the arm of his chair. “Stop treating us like we are.”
I blinked in surprise, taken aback by his tone. He sounded genuinely upset, not just arrogantly offended that I would compare him to a human.
His eyes met mine and they weren’t as cold as they had been. In fact, they almost seemed to burn with some emotion I didn’t know if I should acknowledge.
“We are not casual about our women or the devotion we give to them,” he ground out, his cultured voice turning ragged with frustration and anger.
And maybe hurt.
“If we say we are bound to you,” he continued, still in that harsh tone, “then we mean it, and you are more precious to us than life itself. We will never grow tired of you or bored of being with you. We won’t cast you aside for some other, younger female. We will always see you as the most beautiful creature in creation, and nothing else will matter to us but making you happy.”
My mouth gaped open as I stared at him—this incredibly handsome alien male whom I’d insulted because I’d been too afraid he would say some cruel or cutting remark after I had sex with him. There was no question in my mind that Ilyan suffered from a superiority complex, but he was as good as saying that—when it came to me—he felt entirely different.
“Ilyan, I’m sorry about—”
He waved away my attempt at an apology impatiently, his scowl deepening as he turned his chair so its back faced me again. “I will enter the coordinates for that world I spoke of, as well as some other possible worlds primitive enough that we can disappear into the wilderness. You decide what you want to do and let me know. Don’t take too long. We don’t have many resources on this shuttle.”
I accepted the dismissal because I felt confused and off-kilter. I left the control room with Subject 34 on my heels, taciturn as always. I appreciated his silence in this moment because it gave me time to process my racing thoughts.
From what Ilyan said, he appeared to know at least some of my insecurities. Given how little chance I’d had to have a conversation with him, that seemed impossible. Unless he’d actually understood a lot of my charades back when we were in our cages.
I’d pretty much assumed that he remained as clueless as I did about our wordless conversations. Because I’d felt safe in the knowledge that there was no way I would ever have to discuss with him the things I’d said with gestures and motions rather than words, I’d gone into deep detail about anything that occurred to me during my weeks of imprisonment.
Many of those things had been about my personal failures at life. My failure to keep Michael happy. My failure to make something out of my passion for art. My failure to be the success my parents had hoped I’d be.
I’d also explained with complicated gestures how Michael had cast me aside. I couldn’t even remember how I’d used charades to explain that he’d left me for a younger woman, though I might have formed a cradle with my arms. I know I used a lot of exaggerated facial expressions during that time.
If Ilyan had understood only a fraction of what I’d tried to tell him through exaggerated gestures and expressions and maybe even lip reading, then he would know about some very personal things I’d never shared with anyone else—other than Subject 34—and Nirgal, ironically. That was unnerving given how little I actually knew about him. The things he’d tried to tell me in return hadn’t gotten through, and near the end of my time in that cage, he’d pretty much given up trying to pass on any information and had simply watched me wildly pantomiming most of the time.
It had mostly been a game for me to pass the seemingly endless time stuck in that miserable little cage. I’d never imagined that Ilyan was getting far more information about me from that game than I was about him. Knowing that he was aware of my insecurities wasn’t even the most startling part of all of this.
What stunned me the most was the sudden understanding of why he’d bonded to me. I’d thought he’d just enjoyed the company during his imprisonment, but if he’d understood some of what I’d been trying to say, then he’d learned about me, maybe even knowing me better than most of the people who had ever been in my life. As crazy as it seemed to me, he appeared to like what he’d learned. Or at least, he’d felt some kind of connection to me because of it.
And now I’d gravely insulted him. The worst part about my hasty action had been that it could have ruined his first time with a woman. I still wasn’t entirely certain about that, but from what little I knew of his species, the males took one mate, and mated for life. He’d essentially said so himself. Whether they could engage in casual sex outside of that wasn’t clear to me. Whatever the case might be on that, what had happened between us wasn’t casual for him. I couldn’t possibly doubt that now.
As I stopped at the cleansing closet to shower and grab a clean jumpsuit, I pondered my situation and what I would do next. I discussed the idea of going to this “CivilRim” place with Subject 34, who didn’t have much input to offer, being as clueless about it as I was. Poor 34 had spent his entire life in a lab. He had no idea what was out there in the great beyond.
At least that made two of us. I was glad that Ilyan seemed to know something about where we might be able to go.
There might be one other source of information, and the time to check on Nirgal felt long overdue to me. I’d wanted to check on him before going to visit Ilyan, but I’d ended up so twisted up with nerves inside about what I’d planned to do that I’d needed to take care of that first.
Boy, how I’d taken care of it! And then totally blew it!
Even though I still felt twisted up inside, I was better able to focus this time and made my way to the med-bay. It seemed like such a grand description for a tight little cabin with a healing tank as the sole furnishing.
That tight bay seemed a lot tighter when I walked in on Nirgal climbing out of the tank, buck-naked. He glanced up as the door slid open so he met my wide eyes, his own eyes widening.
