The Clone’s Mate by Susan Trombley

Twenty-Seven

“You!” Nirgal said in an accusatory tone.

“Nirgie!” I cried out, throwing my arms out like I wanted a hug.

The urge to pester and irritate him rushed to the fore even as I felt a wave of relief to see him looking… well…alive was pretty much all I could say at the moment.

“I despise that name,” he growled, glaring daggers at me.

He had no hair, his orange dome completely bald, though I saw the shadow of hair that would eventually grow back. He’d had strands of blood soaked and matted hair when we’d rescued him so the healing tank must have removed it all. Probably to deal with the multiple lacerations and wounds on his skull.

Those wounds, flaying, and lacerations were healing well from what I could see, though his whole face and body remained puffy from swelling tissue.

Unlike Ilyan, Nirgal’s body was covered with black stripes, looking stark against his orange skin. I’d thought they were only on his face, crossing his currently crooked and healing nose and sweeping up both cheeks, but lines also striped his lower face and trailed down his neck. Even more lines striped his chest, arms, and legs. A black chevron marked his lower torso from his ribs to his groin, terminating in a point right above his penis, like an arrow marking the sweet spot. He wasn’t quite marked like a tiger, but the coloration definitely reminded me of one.

My brows lifted as I stared rudely, trying to avoid looking too long at his groin as he hopped out of the tank, his flaccid but sizable penis bouncing then swaying with his movement.

“Where are we, human?” he snapped, drawing my gaze back up to his brilliant blue eyes.

I shrugged, swallowing around a lump in my throat before I could answer. My stomach filled with butterflies, and I wondered what the hell was wrong with me that I could possibly feel this way about him—of all the aliens in the galaxy!

“You’d have to ask Ilyan that,” I said with a heavy sigh as Subject 34 stepped in close behind me, drawing Nirgal’s full attention.

The scientist paled to a peach tone, shying back against the tank. “I created you!” he said in a quavering voice as Subject 34 nudged me to move me aside. “I gave you life. You would be nothing without me!”

I placed a staying hand on 34’s chest, shaking my head as I met his dark eyes. “No, we don’t kill Nirgie unless he refuses to behave.”

A long, tense silence passed before Subject 34 relented and took a step back. Nirgal sighed in visible relief, his shoulders sagging.

Then he shifted his attention back to me, though he continued to cast uncertain glances in 34’s direction. “Did you say ‘Ilyan’?” His eyes widened so much that the whites fully surrounded his irises. “By the Spinner’s silk, is he on this shuttle too?”

I nodded, unable to completely quell my grin at his alarm. I couldn’t help it. This guy brought out the worst instincts in me. “Yep.” I popped my lips on the word, my grin widening.

“Are you suicidal, human?” He stared at me like I was the one who’d lost my mind.

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Well, let’s see. I did insist we rescue you, at great personal risk to myself and my beloved 34, so maybe I am.”

His brow furrowed, making my fingers itch to smooth the lines between them. “Why would you do that?” He shook his head, his confusion evident. “If you already escaped the facility,” he gestured with one hand to the med-bay, “and I can only assume you did, since you’re roaming free on this shuttle, what possible purpose could keeping me hostage serve for you?”

His eyes widened again as he glanced nervously towards the corridor behind me. “Was this the fracture’s idea? What are his plans for me? Ransom? The empire will never pay it. Not for me,” he said with a bitter tone.

I sighed, actually feeling a bit sorry for Nirgal. It never even occurred to him that I’d wanted to help him when I rescued him. I suppose it was natural for him to assume I had nefarious intentions. The evil me—who fortunately wasn’t free of my control at any time—seriously debated letting him believe we were keeping him hostage. But all I had to do to silence that petty part of me was take one look at his ravaged body. He might have healed enough to regain consciousness and make his own way out of the tank, but he clearly wasn’t well. And he’d suffered greatly.

Maybe I had decided he’d suffered enough.

“Ilyan is in control of his fracture,” I said in a reassuring tone, “and we’re working together right now to find a safe place to go. You’re not our hostage. We’d like you to join us. But I’m sure we can work out something different for you, if you want us to drop you off somewhere.” I shrugged like it didn’t matter to me, but I felt anxious about the thought that he might ask us to do just that.

Ilyan hadn’t made that suggestion, so I had no idea if he would even agree to it. He seemed to assume Nirgal would remain with us as if that was a foregone conclusion. I wondered how close of friends they were. Nirgal was obviously afraid of Ilyan’s fracture, but he’d referred to Ilyan before as if he’d cared about him.

Nirgal expression shifted to one of alarm again. “Drop me off?” He shook his head quickly, the light of the med-bay reflecting off his bald dome. “There’s no where I could possibly go, given my betrayal of the empire.” His eyes narrowed as he glared at me. “This is all your fault, curse the silk! I shouldn’t have listened to all your nonsense about ‘morals and ethics’! What does a human know about our important mission?”

I ignored his accusation, sighing with relief. “Well, I guess you’re stuck with us then. I’m sure Ilyan will be happy to hear that.”

Nirgal huffed. “I doubt that.” He crossed his arms over his lean chest, which didn’t boast much muscle but wasn’t as thin as Ilyan’s underweight body. “Ilyan and I had a falling out. I’m surprised he hasn’t killed me yet.”

He glanced at the healing tank, then at me, then shot a quick and nervous glance at Subject 34. “Unless you’re the one in command here.” His expression took on a curious cast. “If so, how are you controlling him?” He lifted a hand to his neck as if he expected to feel something on it. “Did you collar him? You haven’t done so to me.” He scowled. “I’m not certain if I should be happy about that or offended that you see me as unthreatening.”

“Uh….” I debated how to explain the situation to the guy.

It was all a little awkward what with him standing there completely nude. As distracting as his markings were, my gaze still wanted to hone in on that no-no part of him that decent folks covered up.

Not that I was a decent folk or anything, which was pretty much why I struggled not to stare.

“So, Ilyan and I are, um….”

What were we, exactly? Nirgal stared at me, waiting for me to continue, his gaze still curious.

“We’re together,” I finished lamely, unsure what the exact term would be for the Iriduans.

Calling Ilyan my “boyfriend” seemed as inaccurate and weak as calling Subject 34 that. Neither of them were boys, and my feelings towards them far surpassed “friendly.”

Nirgal waved an impatient hand. “Of course you’re together. You already made it clear he was here on the ship. Are there any other escapees from the facility on this shuttle?”

“I mean, we’re together, Nirgal.” I tried a meaningful look, but he still appeared clueless. “You know, to-geth-er!”

“Are you suggesting that you’re his queen?” Nirgal asked after a long, silent moment passed where I watched his confused expression shift to one of comprehension, then complete disbelief. His tone confirmed that he highly doubted my words.

“That’s the word.” I pointed at him. “That right there. Pretty sure that’s what I am to him.”

“That’s not possible!” Nirgal shook his head, bracing one palm on the healing tank as if he needed the support to keep from collapsing. “He was cured! Besides, he didn’t imprint on you!”

I shrugged my shoulders, casting a glance over one of them to meet Subject 34’s impassive gaze. His lips tilted in a slight smile as we both turned back to watch Nirgal struggle with what I’d told him. “He says that he wants me as his mate, and I’ve accepted his offer.”

Oh, how I had accepted! I really regretted how things had ended, and I figured I’d need to make it up to him soon. Especially now that Nirgal was up and around. I needed Ilyan firmly on my side in case Nirgal tried anything funny. The fact that I also wanted to make it up to him was a given.

“You know, you said Subject 34 was cured too, Nirgie.” I grinned as he glared at me. Then I lifted my hand behind me to rub 34’s chitin covered chest. “Funny how that doesn’t seem to matter sometimes.”

I regarded Nirgal’s face thoughtfully, keeping my attention above his neck with a struggle. “Ilyan said that you had been given the ‘cure’ too.”

Nirgal’s lips, which were rather nice and shapely, pulled back in a scowl. “They wanted to fracture me! After all I’ve done for the empire! They used a bioweapon to force me to imprint. A weapon I wasn’t even aware we possessed!” He shook his head, his cold eyes narrowing in anger, though at least I could tell it wasn’t directed at me.

“So….” I watched him carefully, paying close attention to his eyes. They still looked very Nirgal-like, which meant they were already cold as hell. “Did they… uh… succeed in fracturing you?”

Nirgal huffed as if offended. Then he waved away my question with one imperious hand. “Obviously not. I feel fine.”

My eyes were crossing in my fight to keep them fixed on his face. “Um, Nirgie, you think you could put on some clothes?”

He drew in a startled breath, then covered his groin with both hands, glaring icicles at me.

Fighting a smile, I scanned the cabin, spotting the seam of a cabinet door in the wall. I didn’t even have to move to stretch my hand to tap it on the square by the edge of the seam.

It popped open, revealing a stack of folded fabric.

“Yay! Jumpsuits.” I finally unleashed my grin, tugging one of the folded suits out of the supply cabinet to toss it to Nirgal.

He caught it with one hand, turning his back on me. “You needn’t sound so thrilled that I will be covered, human,” he muttered. “I wouldn’t force my attentions on you.”

I eyed his iridescent wings, still slightly shriveled but looking much better than they had when we’d rescued him. Below them were the odd appendages that coiled at the base of his spine, black stripes encircling the iridescent orange chitinous segments.

I’d felt Ilyan’s appendages on me in a very intimate way, and just the memory of that made me blush and hastily lift my eyes before even admiring his naked backside.

“Yeah, yeah,” I said, pretending nonchalance as I noted that the stripes on the front of him continued on the back. “I’m an inferior human. I get it. No need to reiterate it.”

He stepped into the jumpsuit, then pulled it up his legs with jerky motions. “If the sight of my body bothers you so much, you could always turn around and look away,” he growled as he pulled the jumpsuit onto each arm. “There’s no need to stare at the freak.”

I blinked in surprise at his words as I watched his wings twitch and bend in a surprisingly flexible way until they poked through the holes in the back of his jumpsuit. They slid out of it as he fitted it onto his shoulders.

“What do you mean, freak?” Again, I felt sympathy for him that I wondered if I should feel.

His tone had been bitter when he’d called himself that, so clearly it bothered him. I just didn’t know exactly what it was that bothered him. He looked fine to me.

Veryfine. He had the eerie, almost too handsome chiseled jaw and high cheekbones of his species, with very kissable looking lips and eyes a shade of blue that looked inhumanly striking. His nose had been broken during his ordeal and it seemed that the healing tank hadn’t bothered to set it straight for some reason, but that slight crookedness gave his face character.

He turned sharply as he closed the seam on the front of his jumpsuit, a scowl on his face. “You’re not blind, human. My markings are obvious to anyone with sight.”

“The tiger stripes? You… does that make you a… um, different from other Iriduans?”

He crossed his arms over his lean chest, lifting his chin so he looked down his crooked nose at me, though he was already tall enough to look down upon me, so he didn’t really need to take that extra step.

These Iriduans, I swear! They must breed for arrogance and smug superiority. This was precisely why Nirgal brought out the worst in me, I think. I wanted to knock him down a few pegs. Or maybe flat on his back.

And then crawl on top of him and…. Well, that part wasn’t important. I pushed the thought away, seeing as Nirgal did not appear to have any attachment to me whatsoever. I had no idea why Ilyan seemed so certain Nirgal would want to remain with us.

“Tiger stripes?” His lips came together in a tight line, his sun-kissed brows tugging together until the flesh between them was so creased they practically met in the center. “I think that might be even more insulting than the usual comments leveled at me.”

I held up both hands. “I’m sorry, Nirgal. I wasn’t trying to be offensive. I’m just really confused. I think your stripes are beautiful.”

He blinked, his brows lifting and the lines between them smoothing out on their own. “You think… you really think so?” His jaw gaped as if I’d said something shocking.

I nodded, oddly charmed by the uncertainty in his question. It appeared that I’d found an insecurity of his, and for once, I didn’t have the desire to mock him or tease him about it.

“I do. Your stripes are very striking against your orange skin. Besides, a tiger is a gorgeous and powerful predator on Earth. One of the most beautiful creatures in the entire world, in my opinion. You could do a lot worse than be reminiscent of one.”

“Nirgal, a predator?” Subject 34 said, startling me with the reminder that he stood right behind me, stoically watching everything. He made a chittering sound of amusement that Nirgal pointedly ignored.

I hid my grin, concerned that it might undermine my compliment. I wasn’t amused at Nirgal’s markings, but at Subject 34’s sudden comment and his version of laughter. He was so reserved usually that those little comments and hints of his personality were all the more welcome and enjoyable to hear.

Nirgal regarded me for a long moment, his brows lowering back into their normal dour position. “A tiger, hm?” He lifted a hand to stroke his chin thoughtfully. “I’m not familiar with ‘Earth’ animals. I shall have to seek an image of this creature.”

“Do your people not normally have body markings?” I asked, unable to contain my curiosity even though I feared it might give offense.

Hey, he’d asked me all kinds of personal questions while I’d been a captive. I figured it was my turn to ask a few of my own.

He frowned, those mobile brows pulling together again. I really, really wanted to smooth them out. Then maybe kiss away that frown.

“I did not shed my juvenile markings during Meta. The fact that they reformed with my body while I was in my cocoon implied that I still clung to the memory of the creche. To retain these marks is considered a mental weakness. An inability to adapt to change.”

He gestured to his face. “I could have had them removed, but my file—like my body—was already marked with my failure, so there wasn’t much point, even if I wanted to hide them.” He straightened his back, his wings splaying out, though they couldn’t spread far behind him. “But I choose to wear them openly, because I am no juvenile, nor do I care to return to the creche. I always found them beautiful in my reflection in the pond, so I carried them into my adulthood.”

His wings folded tight to his back, his eyes no longer looking as cold as they studied me. “I still find them beautiful, and I’m not ashamed of them, but no one else has ever said they agree with me on that before.”

“Maybe you’ve just been hanging out with the wrong people, Nirgie.” I grinned as he scowled at the nickname.

Then his expression shifted to one of reluctant amusement. His smile transformed his severe features, making him breathtaking, even with the damage still evident on his body.

“You are a very frustrating female,” he said in a tone that almost sounded admiring, even as his smile widened. “You drive me insane sometimes.” He slowly shook his head, his smile fading as his gaze shifted to Subject 34 then quickly returned to me, his stance stiffening as if he was wary. “I know you’re doing it on purpose. At first, I just assumed you were angry at me—in retrospect, rightly so—but now, I’m not so sure.”

It was my turn to cross my arms as I regarded him. “At least you can now acknowledge that what you did to me was wrong.”

He nodded immediately, surprising me with his quick capitulation. “I learned the hard way how terrible our actions—my actions—were. I am sorry, hu—Rhonda.” He sighed heavily, his shoulders sagging as his wings flickered behind him, still wrinkled and shriveled. “I wanted to believe that our cause was important enough to justify any measures we took. My people are in trouble. Besieged on all sides by those who would see us eradicated from the galaxy altogether. Other species have grown envious of our power and influence,” he lowered his head, his gaze falling from mine, “and my empire has grown bloated and rotten from within, too hungry for that power and influence to care what it costs.”

I glanced over my shoulder at 34, who stood as calmly as ever, still as stone. The perfect predator, capable of hunting down prey, or patiently lying in wait to ambush it. When I turned my head back to Nirgal, his blue eyes had fixed on me again, no longer glittering with a remote chill that I began to suspect was defensiveness.

“What exactly was the purpose of your experiments?” I could tell that 34 had been made to be the perfect killer, but there was only one of him. Surely, he couldn’t take on an army of enemy troops.

Although, I might be underestimating him.

Nirgal sighed, then shrugged his shoulders. “I suppose it doesn’t matter now how much you know about my work.” He nodded his chin at Subject 34. “He is capable of naturally creating the very type of bioweapon that was used to forcibly imprint me or any other male Iriduan, in addition to any other substance we could possibly require. Ilyan originally created him to mimic Menops queens to infiltrate their colonies and assassinate them, rendering their troops useless. However, our leadership realized that he could also mimic the odor print of a female Iriduan. My initial intention was to use that ability to aid those males who were suffering deprivation.”

He shrugged. “It wasn’t long before that intention expanded to include creating a weapon to gain control over rebel groups that have been tearing our empire apart from within. And of course, there’s no question he would be priceless on a battlefield, given his significant skills beyond his chemical compound creation.”

“So you intended to use the same—or a similar—bioweapon on other Iriduans that Tilhur ended up using on you?”

Nirgal clenched his fists, his scowl returning to harden his gaze. “The bioweapon they used on me wasn’t from Subject 34, which means they already had access to it, likely even before his iteration. I was never informed of this, and I suspect it was because they had other uses in mind for Subject 34 all along. I was merely an ignorant tool for them.”

“Is that why you tried to betray them?”

Nirgal stared down at the healing tank instead of meeting my eyes. “I betrayed them because I listened to you. You made me think about the ethical questions I’d never dared to ask before. We are not… trained that way—to consider ethics when planning or carrying out our experiments. The pursuit of scientific advancement is paramount for the Iriduans. Nothing must stand in the way of that goal. Our rivals, like the Lusians, do not bother with ethics, which is why they’ve become the most advanced species in the galaxy. Our ancestors also didn’t concern themselves with ethical restraints, and they achieved wonders in ancient times that even the Lusians have not managed to this day. We can’t possibly compete unless we follow their example.”

“You say that, but you still listened to me.” I felt flattered that I’d managed to break through to Nirgal. No, it was more than flattered that I was feeling towards him.

It was pointless to keep denying it.

This time, when he met my eyes, his didn’t look at all cold. “You make me feel… strange, Rhonda. I’m still not sure I like how I feel when I’m around you. My stomach knots and my skin gets too warm when I think of you.” His eyes widened in alarm as he looked downwards, his wings flaring as far as they could behind him.

My own gaze followed his and I caught sight of the bulge in his jumpsuit just before he covered it with both hands.

“I am cured,” he whispered, the light bouncing off his head as he shook it. The look in his eyes when he met mine was panicked. “Why do I still feel this way about you?”