Sloan Jones
Roy’s smile was now triumphant; he knew he won.
“As you can see it’s in your best interest to turn over the clone if you want to continue living.”
“No,” Mick’s voice rang out loud and clear. He wouldn’t be turning over his mate.
“No,” Ash’s voice backed him up. No one was coming into his house telling him what he had to do. That included the Clone Council.
“No,” Brook’s voice rang out. She walked over to Jaz and took her hand.
“No,” Jaz said one more time. She needed to stand up for herself, take her future in her hands.
They ordered every step of her life. Kept her down, kept her repressed. For years she walked with her head down, shame clinging to her shoulders because of a circumstance of birth that she couldn’t change. No more. She would be proud of who she was and stand up for what was right. Jaz reached over and hugged Brook before moving away, she needed to stand strong on her own.
Roy made a move for Brook, both Ash and Mick moved to protect her.
Harold screamed “No” drawing everyone’s attention back to Roy who now held a knife. He threw it hand over hand in a perfect arc towards Jaz. She froze, unable to move, even as her brain told her that knife would land neatly in her heart.
She wondered as death came for her when Roy learned to throw a knife like an expert. Her eyes moved to Mick’s face. He had to be the last thought she had. A fleeting wish to know the touch of his lips crossed her mind before the knife hit home.
She fell to the floor, her back connecting with the rug. On top of her was the heavy body of Mick. He was so warm and wet. Wet? She brought her hand up to see it covered with blood. Someone was screaming promising to kill Roy. Slice him into tiny pieces for what he did. Her throat ached, she was the one screaming.
Her arms flew around Mick, cradling his body, telling him he would be okay as she begged for someone to help him.
“Don’t cry little mate, I will be fine.”
“Mick?” Her voice was shaky.
“I’m fine. I needed a minute to help my body begin to repair itself.”
“How?” She was still shaky, but maybe that was from the fact that this was the first time a male ever covered her body.
“My brothers and I are warriors. The best in the galaxy. We wouldn’t be much good if a little thing like a knife could stop us.”
“Where is Roy?” She wanted to kill him for what he did.
“I bet he’s halfway back to where he came from by now.”
“How did he get away?”
“Ash let him go.”
“Ash!”
Mick laughed. “Bloodthirsty mate, I approve. Don’t worry. I don’t think Roy will be walking for a week or more.”
“He lives because we didn’t want the council to come after you for his death,” Ash added.
She nodded, he was protecting her, they all were. It was such a novel concept to be thought of as worthy of protecting. Mick pushed his body up off of hers. That’s when she saw the knife was still in his back.
“Your back…”
“It’s all right. Ash is going to pull it out,” which he did in a movement too fast to track. He then held the skin together as Mick stayed silent.
“Looking good,” Ash finally declared moving away from him. “Try to take it easy for an hour or two. Allow your body to fully heal.” He turned and left the room to wash the blood off his hands.
“Well, that was fun,” Brook declared in a voice that was way too high pitched.
“I have to leave.” Jaz sank into a love seat and curled up in a ball after she came back into the room after washing her hands. Watching Mick’s blood mingle with the water brought what she was feeling to the surface. Her friends, her sister, were now in jeopardy of losing their lives because they helped her. What was she thinking?
Mick came and sat on the edge of the loveseat, resisting the urge to pull her into his arms. She wouldn’t feel the overwhelming urge to bond with him like he did with her.
“Where will I go?” Green eyes looked up to meet blue ones. She almost got lost in his gaze. “I could leave the dome. Maybe that would protect all of us.”
“Don’t…” he swallowed the rest of his words. How could he stop her from leaving if she wanted to go?
“I don’t have any other choice unless I leave the planet. I never wanted to be a runner, but I can’t let them kill me.”
A runner was anyone who disagreed with the government policies and stood up for themselves.
That the government was always right had been droned into her head since the day she took her first breath. Her job as a clone was to acknowledge the right of the government to treat her as chattel, and she believed that for more years than she wanted to remember. She stood where they told her to, talked when given permission, and acted like the brain she had in her head didn’t function unless given permission.
Jaz had been the perfect clone and look where it got her. They were going to harvest her, not because the Original needed a lifesaving organ. She was to be harvested because she was looked on as collateral damage in a war the Patron started with Brook. He picked Jaz as his next target because he knew it would hurt her sister. The woman he couldn’t go after without Ash killing him.
“I can get you off the planet if you want to go,” Mick spoke quietly, giving her options. Wherever she chose to go, he would follow, but he could tell her that later.
“I don’t know; I just need time to think. Would that be okay?”
“Take all the time you need.”
Brook stood up tugging Ash up after her. “Well, that was exciting. I’m going to lie down, reflect on the day. The two of you make yourselves comfortable.”
With one last smile at Jaz, she took Ash’s hand and walked out of the living room and up the front staircase.
“That was so obvious even I couldn’t miss it,” Jaz finally said, looking at Mick.
“May I sit next to you?”
She nodded, suddenly nervous; turning around she sat up on the love seat clutching at the armrest. Was it to keep her from running, or to keep her from throwing herself at him? She had no idea.
“We haven’t had a chance to be introduced properly. I’m Mick A’rouk. I know you’ve had a chance to meet my brothers.” He stretched his hand out in the customary Earth greeting.
Touch him. She almost passed out at the thought. She dreamed of this moment for so long, stretching her hand out she took his. He was warm, much warmer than her. She liked it, he felt like a pleasant fire on a cold day. His hand wrapped around hers while his thumb gently caressed her hand. When had all of her nerve endings moved to her hand?
She took a deep breath trying to make sure she stayed on this side of consciousness.
“I’m Jazlyn Summers, the one who seems to be the cause off all the trouble going on around here.”
“You’re no trouble at all. Believe me; I’m bringing a healthy dose of trouble to the table myself.”
“I saw you. I mean I was there when Dante ordered you chained. I heard you scream mine, not that I knew what you were talking about.”
She had convinced herself that he meant her when he screamed, but maybe someone had stolen his hotdog. How was she supposed to know? She could have asked Dante when he came to visit her every day, but she didn’t, too afraid that he would say Mick wasn’t talking about her. And much too ashamed to admit to herself how much she wanted to be claimed by him.
“I’m sorry; I acted like a primitive Neanderthal when I saw you. I wanted everyone present to know that you belonged to me. I never stopped to ask myself if you wanted to belong to me. I saw you, and I knew you were mine. My mate, my love, the only female for me.”
“You just can’t claim me. I have to have some say in the matter. I won't let anyone own me again. From now on I make my own choices.”
“You’re right, and I know it, but that doesn’t stop the way I feel about you. I’m just asking you to give me a chance to get
to know you and for you to get to know me. How will you know if you want to choose me unless you know me?”
She leaned back into the arm of the love seat. He was right, and she didn’t even know why she was fighting the thing she dreamed about. It was as if a part of her that had always been inside of her snapped, and now it was demanding equality. The right to be present in her life. He would have to be able to deal with that if he wanted to deal with her.
“I want to kiss you.” The gentle rumble of his voice had her insides tingling.
It was against the law for a clone to kiss. It was against the law for a clone to have sex, marry, or bear children. It was against the law for a clone to speak up for themselves or dare to think they were capable of having a life outside of the strict rules of the Clone Council. It was against the law, but some laws were meant to be broken.
Chapter Four
Jaz’s tongue darted out to lick her lips. It felt like all the moisture in the room was gone leaving nothing but dryness. Dry hands and lips. She was wrong. There was still moisture in the room, but it had all gone south, and she could feel it slowly seeping out of her body.
Mick sat still as a statue as her body fluttered around. Her hands shook, her lips trembled; even her legs got in on it. It’s just a kiss, people did it every day. But she wasn’t people. Somehow doing this seemed bigger than refusing to be harvested. They would simply track her down and kill her; there was no getting away with the tracker in her body. A kiss, on the other hand, said she was serious. That she was more than they called her and she would live her life on her terms.
Yep, it said all that. It also said the desire she dreamed about was going to happen. Was she ready to own that new experience?
Her body leaned into his of its own accord. She desperately wanted his lips on hers. The smile that touched his lips increased the happy racing of her heart.
“Jaz.” He gave a satisfied mumble before his lips touched hers.
It was light and easy, just a pressing of their lips together. Slowly her tension left as Mick worked his lips over hers making her feel good. With a sigh, she opened against him; his tongue pushed past her teeth to enter the heat of her mouth.
Her eyes opened wide when he stroked her tongue with his. Pleasure she wasn’t expecting spiked through her body. A needy little sound came from her as he caught the back of her head drawing her closer, deepening the kiss. She was lost in sensation; it took over her body. She began to thrash and gasp for air. She needed to breathe.
Mick backed off. He needed to go slower with her even as his body was demanding he go faster. Mate repeated in his head as he slowly took his hands away and allowed deep breaths to calm his racing heart.
“Are you all right?” His voice came out in a deep sexy rumble that knocked her off balance once again.
“I…never…I.” What was she supposed to say? “I didn’t expect it to be like that, so overpowering. I felt like I was drowning at one point, but I also felt like I could swim the ocean if it meant I’d get closer to you. I’m sorry.”
She stood up quickly and ran into the hallway and up the stairs. How embarrassing. She dreamed of this very moment and then to ruin it because she couldn’t control her emotions or her body. He must think she acted like a child.
Brook was standing in the hallway when she got to the top of the stairs, how fitting that her sister would see her humiliation. She started to walk towards Jaz, but Ash appeared took her arm and led her back into their room. Jaz was very grateful to her brother. It didn’t take much to get to her room, slam the door, and throw herself across her bed.
“Wanna be,” the voice in her head sneered. “You want to be something you’re not. You’re a clone not made for love, not made to be touched by a sexy as hell male.” And Mick was sexy as hell. Now that she was alone, she could dwell on what she refused to think about earlier.
He was so tall she had to crane her neck up to see his face, and that was just fine with her. And oh, that face! He had the bluest eyes. One minute they were as light as the sky, then next they were as dark as the depths of the ocean, and she wanted to go for a swim in them. His tanned skin made him even more desirable with his straight nose, hard chin, and lips that looked just a little cruel but felt so good that even now she wanted to curl into a little ball as that sensation soared through her again.
His hair felt like silk to her starving fingers and his muscular physique, she wanted to touch him all over. She wanted every male to look like him because a world of Micks would make life very good…for her.
She dashed tears away from her eyes because she was a badass, law breaking clone and stopped crying.
There was a knock at her door that had her sitting up in the bed.
“Who’s there?” Why couldn’t her voice reflect the new her? Why did it have to shake?
“Mick.”
“Mick who?” Could they please kill her now? Was she playing with a warrior who could be stabbed in the back and be okay in less than ten minutes? Maybe this was another dream.
“Mick A’rouk.” There was a chuckle in his voice when he answered back.
She could feel laughter gathering in her stomach so she did the only thing she could. She went to the door and opened it partially, but she couldn’t hide the smile on her lips as she peeked out.
“How can I help you, Mick A’rouk?”
“I am here to see Jazlyn Summers. Is she receiving suitors today?”
Suitors? Did he want to be her suitor? Okay, she wasn’t supposed to know about love and romance but did her handlers need to know that some of those cryo books she read were romances? She’d just changed the covers. Maybe she wasn’t the best clone after all.
“Come in, kind sir. Jaz is receiving suitors today. Please have a seat over here.” She indicated the love seat with the two armchairs around it and a nice little end table. When he sat down, she walked sedately into the bathroom instead of running like she wanted to do.
A quick wash of her face to get rid of any lingering tear tracks. A quick application of the lipstick Brook forced her to buy. Thank you, Brook. She tugged on her clothes and came out looking more sophisticated at least in her mind, and that was all that mattered.
“Miss Summers,” Mick stood and gave her a formal bow. “You look stunning. It pleases me that you were willing to receive suitors on such short notice.
“Kind sir, you do me the honor of seeking me out.” She gave him a deep curtsey and then she giggled until it turned into sheer happy laughter.
Never in her life had she played with a male.
With a smile on her lips, she took a seat on the opposite end of the love seat making sure to keep as much room between them as possible.
“I hoped to ask you some questions if you’re up to them.”
Questions? What could he possibly want to know?
“Ask away, I’m an open book.” The slow smile that lifted the corners of his lips made her heart start to pound.
“What’s your favorite color?”
No one had ever asked her that before. How should she respond? No one ever asked her any questions because they didn’t care what a clone had to say unless it was about her job. Then they listened because she was the best at what she did.
Looking around the room her eyes landed on the walls. They were a pale peach. In her sterile world of white walls to see such a lush color on the walls had shocked her, but the more time she spent looking at it, the more she loved it.
“Pale peach is my favorite color with gold as a close second.” She smiled because the look on his face was so intent, as if every word she said was important even if it was just about a favorite color.
“What’s your favorite color?” Her breath caught and held in her throat. To ask someone such a simple idle question would have earned her punishment in the past because she was nothing but chattel and chattel didn’t have opinions or questions.
“Gold, it’s the color of royalty. Peach is nice, but it’s soft.”
“Gold is soft,” she argued back.
“Nope, gold was used for crowns and royal robes for both kings and queens. What could be soft about that?” He raised a brow, crossed his arms and gave her a tiny lift of his lips.
Playful male. She never knew this could happen.
“I concede gold is not soft.”
He crowed his victory, and she laughed because he made her feel good in the process.”
“Favorite food?”
This was a much harder question. She didn’t like the food that came out of the processors. Ash was a great cook but, to be honest; her mind was so caught up with her impending death that she didn’t eat more than a bite or two of whatever he made.
“I don’t have a favorite food.” She quickly explained to him why she didn’t and hoped he wouldn’t pity her.
“This is perfect.”
“It is?” Now her eyes were big as she looked at him. How could her not knowing what she liked to eat be perfect?
“It is. When I take you to my home, I will have to cook as many different dishes as I know so you can find the one that calls out to you above all others. I must warn you I’m a master in the kitchen, a chef above all others. You will find yourself needing to try my dishes over and over again they are that good.”
Her lips quirked. She believed him.
“You would do that for me? Cook, so I could try different food, so that I would know what I liked?”
“I would do that and so much more for you, Jaz.”
Mick wasn’t her dream man, the one she wove her inexperienced fantasies around. He was the real flesh and blood version. Already he’d taken a knife for her, followed her when fear and panic made her run. Made her laugh when she had been ready to cry and now he wanted to cook for her. Her heart, which she kept wrapped in protective gear, tried to take a peek at him.
“I would like that,” she said, because she liked him. She only knew a little bit about him, but that bit was pulling her towards him. In fact, she liked the real male better than the dream one.
Please, she prayed for a minute, let his actions be the truth. She wasn’t allowed to pray; they told her that their deity would never accept her because she was a clone with no soul. But by now she’d broken so many rules what was one more?
Mick (The A'rouk Brothers Book 1) Page 3