Mick (The A'rouk Brothers Book 1) (3 page)

The walls were blue and white stripes. They messed with her eyes sometimes, but she loved the look of them. She memorized the furniture. Ash held on to his things longer than most people. So nothing in here was new besides the paint job and the vid screens. The room screamed homey. She could always picture him in here with his daughter and nephews as the rest of his family moved in and out of the room.

Family, something she always longed for but was forbidden for a clone. No one wanted a clone to reproduce. How would you tell who were the real humans and who were fake? It always surprised her that clones didn’t come with expiration dates.

Ash walked back into the living room with her handlers following behind him.

Roy and Harold, the two men who had been the bane of her existence for the last two years. Jaz was thirty-three years old. That was the optimal age of her Original. Each Original went through rigorous testing to determine the age at which they would be the healthiest and would accomplish the most. Jaz had been alive for fifty years; clones were genetically engineered to live longer than the humans whose DNA made them possible. Unfortunately, she didn’t know if her Original was alive or dead. Some parents were rich enough to have their children cloned at birth. So her Original may have been a child while Jaz was made full grown.

Roy smiled at her, but she felt slimy just looking at him. He was short with a rounder physique. His blue eyes always seemed evil to her, and his blonde hair had an unkempt look to it.

Harold gave her a smile that almost felt like he pitied her. He had been the tolerable one of the two of them. Tolerable didn’t mean nice; she simply wasn’t scared to be in a room alone with him unlike how she felt with Roy.

“Jaz, it’s time for you to come in,” Roy told her.

“Come in,” she snorted. They acted like she was getting too much sun and needed to protect her skin.

“There was nothing we could do,” Harold interjected. He knew she hated Roy.

“Could do or would do, Harold?” Humans didn’t go out of their way to help clones and the whole world knew it.

“I don’t want any problems, Jaz, and I want this to be as easy as possible for you. Turn around and I will place these on your wrist, and we will leave,” Harold raised the restraints in his hand.

These
were the newest invention in handcuffs. They took away the wearer’s free will, he or she would do whatever and she did mean whatever the holder of the key ordered.

Roy lifted his hand to show her who held the key. Oh hell no. She almost laughed. Time with Brook and Ash had changed her. She was no longer the timid female on the outside and a lion on the inside. Now she simply said what she felt.

“I won’t be wearing those cuffs.”

“Come willingly and you won’t have to.” Harold gave her his best
we just want to help you
smile, but she didn’t believe him. He wasn’t as innocent as he tried to act. If he were, he wouldn’t be ordering clones around as if they had no feelings.

“No.” Well, that stunned everyone in the room including her. In fact, she was so stunned that she reached into the pocket of her shorts and pulled out a piece of hard candy Dante made for her and popped it into her mouth. She needed something to keep the words from coming out.

“No?” Roy’s voice was deep, and deadly. He didn’t like her answer.

“No,” she said in a stronger voice, this time around the candy in her mouth. She liked to think it was giving her courage. “No, I’m not putting on those cuffs. No, I’m not coming with you. Just no.” She might die or at least pass out from the rate her heart was beating. All she needed to do was hold on until they were gone then Brook would take care of her unconscious body.

A growl came from Roy. The sound of it scared her. Then he was moving, an injector was in his hand and she knew it was over for her. Resistance is futile. Ash was up faster than she could track. He plucked the injector out of his hand while grasping him around the throat. He picked him up as Roy's face started changing colors, and then tossed him against the wall without breaking a sweat.

“Tell me you weren’t trying to hurt a guest in my house.”

Roy glared at him before turning his gaze to Jaz. His hand went around his throat as if that would somehow make it feel better.

Harold raised his hands in the universal sign of not wanting any trouble.

“We didn’t come here to fight. We have orders from the Clone Council to bring her in. They chose to harvest her. We don’t care, not really; we’re simply doing our job. If you stand in our way, then others will come. Once a harvest order is given, no one stops until the contract is fulfilled.”

“That’s just a nice way of saying you were ordered to kill me, and you won’t stop until I’m dead. What if it were you, Harold? What if you were being tracked down and killed because you were born a black male, how would you feel?”

“It’s not fair, Jaz, I get it, but what do you want me to do about it? Should I cry out? Try to change the system? You simply have to live, or in your case die with the lot life has provided you. Hey, at least you got to live for a while.”

She stood up and started pacing the room, anger beating in her chest. It wasn’t enough. It was so unfair that she should be marked for death on the sole basis of what she was and not who she was.

“No, I won’t go with you. Do your worst. Send your assassins, snipers, and trained military forces, but I will die protesting for what I believe.”

“You dumb…” A knock at the door cut Roy off.

Ash gave a small growl. “No one better move before I get back, or I promise you they will wheel your bodies out of here if there is anything left for them to find.” He turned and left the room.

Harold and Roy didn’t move a muscle proving they were smarter than they looked.

When he walked back in Mick was behind him. Jaz gasped, almost choking as her breath got caught in her throat. He was so much bigger in person than she remembered.

“Jaz.” His eyes were glued to her. She was beautiful like a graceful goddess. He shook his head unable to tear his eyes away.

“Mick…Mick.” The fact that Ash was calling his name finally penetrated his brain.

“Ash.” He turned to face him.

“Allow me to introduce you to Roy.” He indicated the man on the floor. “The other one is Harold. They are Jaz’s handlers here to take her in for harvesting.”

The look on Mick’s face went dark at the mention of harvesting. He turned to face them, the fires of hell reflected in his eyes. He took a step towards them before turning around and facing Jaz.

What right did he have to her? There wasn’t time for her to get to know him. Still, he wanted her to deny their claim on her. To take the time to get to know him, see who he was and then decide if there was more to life than dying for some shadowy figure.

He wanted to hold her but kept himself rigid. “How did you answer their demand that you go with them?”

“I told them to go to hell.”

Mick smiled, he knew the way to hell, and he’d be more than happy to take them there.

Roy stood and started laughing, his hand still clutching at his throat. The laughter sounded painful, but he deliberately pushed it out.

“You don’t get it,” he rasped. “You,” he pointed at Jaz. “You think you have a choice, but you don’t. The more you resist the harder they will make your death.”

He took a step towards her, but Mick placed himself between them.

“They’re not scared of you or any other alien on the Earth. The Clone Council gets what it wants, and it wants her dead by any means necessary. Already clones are beginning to think they have rights. You should have never left your apartment. That might have saved your life. No, you should never have taken up with her.” Roy pointed a shaking finger at Brook accusing her of Jaz’s new independence.

Jaz sucked on another piece of candy as she watched the show. Truly she must be addicted to the sweets. She stepped back as she watched Roy’s eyes darken. The light of a lunatic who believed he was right above all others was in his eyes.

“Roy,” Harold said, looking around the room. “We need to go tell the Clone Council that she refuses to come in for harvesting.”

“No. I’m going to pull a tablet out.” Roy raised his hand and slowly reached into his back pocket. He pulled out a palm size tablet and stretched it, allowing it to grow so that it could be read. He held it out towards Mick.

No one reached for it, so Mick took it. The seal of the Clone Council was prominently displayed at the top of the page.

It is by the order of the Clone Council that Jazlyn Summers formally known as clone 786542 be picked up for harvesting immediately.

Anyone standing in the way of this happening will be considered a threat against the Clone Council and the citizens of Earth and may be fined up to ten thousand credits. If the obstruction of justice is severe, their lives may be terminated.

This letter has been mandated by law signed by the entire council.

Chief council member,

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.