The Clone’s Mate by Susan Trombley
Thirty-Six
My Iriduans had left the living room not long after 34 freed Nirgal, and I could only hope they were finding a way to get along and get over their antagonism. I worried about them even as I snuggled against Subject 34, feeling safe in his arms as he held me in the aftermath of our lovemaking.
As much as I wanted to check on them, I felt like I owed it to 34 to spend this blissful time with him and explain where we were and what was happening.
Though I did keep out some of Evil Ilyan’s actions that I still feared would end up getting my green guy killed.
“So, now we’re here on Earth, and according to the Akrellians, we can stay here as long as none of us hurt someone.”
I tilted my head to look up at his face. I sat on his bent thigh as he sat on the hard tile. He hadn’t liked the soft couch any more than he’d liked my bed on the shuttle. His lower arms rested on my thighs and his upper arms wrapped around my shoulders, holding me close against his chest. Like always, he seemed to envelope me with his own body as if to shield me from danger.
“I know it isn’t the option we all agreed to.” I traced my hand over the joints of the plating on his fingers. “But I think, in the long run, Evil Ilyan’s decision to ally with the Akrellians might have been the best one for us.”
“Rhonda is here. Here is Rhonda’s home.” He lowered his head to nuzzle my hair. “Rhonda is 34’s home. 34 happy.”
My monster was one of few words, but he was a philosopher in his own way, boiling down the complexity of our situation into a simple, profound statement that made me feel like the most loved woman in the universe.
“You really don’t mind staying here on Earth?” I worried that he would feel out of place if people stared too much at him, and on Earth, even surrounded by other extraterrestrials, he was likely to get some odd looks. Not everyone would appreciate his beauty the way I did.
“Before Rhonda, 34 restless. Hunt, kill, eat—no longer satisfy. Struggle to find reason to leave crevice. 34 not care about surviving anymore. Need something more. Not know what, until 34 catch Rhonda’s scent. Then know. Need Rhonda.” He tucked me closer against him. “Only need Rhonda. Nothing else important to 34.”
I’ll admit. I teared up at those words. Ilyan and Nirgal could wax poetic as they promised me the universe, and I felt the flutter of my heart and soul at their pretty words, but the simplistic declarations of love that Subject 34 made to me were as primal and visceral as my love for him.
I realized that each of my mates satisfied a need inside me, each of them bringing something different and exciting in its own way to my life. Though I never would have said that I needed more than one man to make me happy, and I still wouldn’t claim that, together they made me so blissfully happy that I didn’t believe any one man could have ever done the same for me.
That reminded me that all wasn’t perfect in my own sexy version of a fairy tale. I really needed to make sure that Ilyan and Nirgal weren’t killing each other, though I doubted either of them would actually hurt each other, if only because they knew it would hurt me.
Still, their divisiveness hurt me.
When I told Subject 34 about my concerns, he shrugged and told me he didn’t smell blood in the air. That didn’t reassure me as much as I’d hoped, and I bade him to let me up to go check on them. It felt good to have him with me as I made my way around the house in search of my other mates, my heart thudding harder as I checked each empty room.
I was near panic when I went through the entire house finding no sign of my mates. I rushed to the back door, and it slid open at my approach, the house informing me of the external temperature, humidity level, and UV intensity as I stepped outside.
I spotted color moving among the cactus garden—a bright splash of orange, and nearby, a more vivid green than the cacti themselves.
Relief washed over me as I made my way to the garden path, wending through the clusters and patches of exotic looking plants, all of which came from Earth herself, each as strange and bizarre as any alien life form.
As beautiful and intriguing as the garden was, my eyes fixed on my mates, my brows lifting in surprise as I grew closer to them.
Nirgal stood on the path near a cactus patch with a tablet in hand, the sight of it making me grin even through my worry. His fingers moved rapidly over it, entering in data as Ilyan knelt dangerously close to a whole pack of sharp spines, prodding a scanning probe into the mass of spiky plants.
He withdrew the probe and glanced at the readout that he apparently saw on the side of it, before reciting a series of data points to Nirgal, who dutifully recorded them.
They both looked up from their work when I laughed aloud. “What are you two doing?”
They glanced at each other, then returned their beautiful gazes to me. “Examining these intriguing specimens,” they said in unison.
I wanted to clap for joy just to see them working together, intrigued by something science-related, because I could tell that their love of knowledge and research was what had brought them together as friends in the first place.
I hoped that their love of me wouldn’t tear apart the fragile bond they appeared to be reforming, and I almost wanted to retreat just to avoid that happening. Still, now I was intrigued, stepping a little closer to Nirgal as I studied Ilyan and the cactus he knelt beside.
“Be careful, honey,” I said reflexively, as if he wasn’t aware of the sharp spines right by his head.
He grinned at me, seeming pleased at my concern for his welfare. “If I end up wounded, would you take care of me, my queen.”
Nirgal grunted and shook his head. I took that as his version of rolling his eyes. Still, he didn’t respond with any negative remarks, so I considered that progress.
I crossed my arms over my chest as I mock-glared at him. “Not if you get hurt on purpose, my darling green guy. In that case, you’d have to pick all the stickies out by yourself.”
“Green guy,” Nirgal murmured in an amused tone.
Ilyan lifted his chin as he rose to his feet, his wings flaring with irritation. “I like the nickname my mate has given me.”
“Better than Evil Ilyan, I suppose.” Nirgal’s wings flickered just once before returning to being tightly folded against his back.
“Oh, pumpkin, don’t tease my green guy!” I smirked at Nirgal, wondering if he’d remember the nickname.
I was pretty sure I’d called him that in the past, so he was bound to have looked it up.
“Better than douche,” he said to me with his own smirk.
“I personally think douche is a perfect nickname for you, Nirgal Mashda.” Ilyan tucked his scanning probe into the pocket of his jumpsuit, then brushed his hands together even though not a speck of dirt marked his iridescent green skin.
Nirgal snorted in outrage, casting a glare at Ilyan. “And I think she gave the nickname ‘Evil Ilyan’ to the wrong part of you.”
I held up both hands. “Please, stop being mean to each other!”
They turned to face me, grins spreading on both their faces.
“We were always mean to each other,” Ilyan said, shrugging one shoulder.
Nirgal narrowed a glare at him, then returned his attention to me, nodding slowly. “Even when we were friends.”
Oh, so it was that type of friendship. The shit-talking kind of relationship. That I could handle. I could work with that, though it would be strange and sometimes disconcerting to hear them sniping at each other all the time.
“But,” I looked from one to the other, “are the two of you friends now?”
They looked at each other again, both flicking their wings in a way that I couldn’t entirely interpret.
“I think we can get there again,” Ilyan said. “I forgive you, Nirgal, for urging me to remain out of stasis until I fractured.”
Nirgal’s smile had completely disappeared, but a solemn expression replaced it rather than a defensive scowl. “I will find a way to make it up to you, my old friend.”
“Keeping my fracture from causing any damage to our harem or our queen will go a long way towards doing that.”
As Nirgal swore he would make certain of that, I swore to myself that none of them would ever find out about Evil Ilyan’s treatment towards me.
Even though I’d ended up liking it to the point that I wanted him to be rough with me again—if he so happened to show up—I doubted my mates would understand or accept my reassurances as anything more than a cope.
It was probably for the best that Ilyan vowed never to retreat to the back of his mind again, so that his fracture couldn’t retake control. Though I regretted not being able to truly talk to Evil Ilyan about anything involving his rebel actions, or his prior connections to the Akrellians, I most regretted that I’d ended up falling in love with him despite the emotional distance he’d kept between us. Thinking that I’d never see him again made me sad and regretful that I didn’t make the most of my time with him.
I determined to not make that same mistake with my other mates. Now that we had a home of our own and plenty of privacy, we had a lot of lost time to make up for.
