Skye's Sanctuary (The Sanctuary Series Book 5)

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Skye's Sanctuary (The Sanctuary Series Book 5) Page 3

by Nikita Slater


  “Exactly,” I say with a grim smile. “They have to get smarter, which means they have to organize themselves.”

  “Well fuck,” Alfie growls. “As if we need more to worry about.”

  We continue walking and I ask Alfie how his people survived the hordes that took out the Santa Fe Sanctuary after the nuclear meltdowns.

  “We lost a few people during the initial panic,” he admits. “There’s a cave system a few miles from here. We sealed ourselves inside and waited them out. It wasn’t pleasant but most of us survived.”

  I’m finding more and more to admire about the small group of people hiding out in the mountains above Santa Fe. They’re intelligent, resilient and determined. All qualities that I can appreciate. A small part of me wants to abandon the more industrial Sanctuary for this beautiful place.

  Shouting filters through the trees and, curious, I follow the noise, Alfie walking behind me. We enter a small clearing on the outskirts of the village. Several people stand in a circle, all armed and wearing thick protective clothing. They appear to be fighting each other, but on closer inspection, I realize they’re organized. They’re either playing or practicing. It’s hard to tell because most in the circle are very young.

  “It’s a miracle your people have survived if this is the best you have to offer for soldiers.” I lean back against a tree and cross my arms as I watch.

  “We’re not soldiers,” Alfie says sharply. “We’re a peaceful people who must occasionally defend ourselves.”

  I eye the weaponry attached to Alfie’s person and raise a sceptical brow. Alfie most certainly has experience with battle. He wouldn’t have been able to sneak up on me at the stream if he wasn’t good.

  He grunts. “I was trained by my father who was a soldier during the Great Fall.”

  “Then you should be teaching these children everything you know.”

  I fit my fingers in my mouth and let loose a piercing whistle.

  Alfie slaps my hand away from my mouth. “What the fuck are you doing? That kind of noise attracts the Primitives.”

  I roll my eyes. “These kids are making enough noise to wake the dead, or the undead.” I grin at my joke. Nobody else does.

  The children have fallen silent and watch me curiously. A few whisper to each other.

  “I’m Skye.” I meet the gaze of one I’d overheard. “Warlord of the Santa Fe Sanctuary.”

  They stare at me with varying expressions of awe, and satisfaction rolls over me. If this is what it feels like to finally claim the title of Warlord, maybe I should do it.

  “You.” I snap my fingers at a nearby teenager. “Hand me your sword.”

  She hands over the object but protests, “It’s not real though, Warlord Skye.”

  That sounds pretty good to my ears. Warlord Skye.

  “Doesn’t matter. You can do as much damage with wood as you can with steel if you know what you’re doing.” I stride to the middle of the clearing and beckon Alfie to come near. “Attack me with your knife.”

  He doesn’t have to be asked twice. A competitive gleam enters his eye and I know I’m working with a true professional. Only people like us can enjoy beating the shit out of each other to gain the upper hand.

  He launches into a truly impressive attack, to where I have a moment’s hesitation, thinking he might actually be trying to kill me. Then I leap into the fight and begin dancing around his blade, avoiding it and landing blows with my wooden sword.

  He has more power on his side, but I have agility and speed. We’re pretty evenly matched in skill.

  He takes a swing that’s too wide, giving me the opportunity to dart toward him, dragging his gun from his holster. As he swings his knife arm back around, I drop to the ground, tangle my feet in his and send him crashing backwards.

  Before he can get up, I leap on top of him, pressing my blade to his throat and his own gun to his head.

  “That’s loaded,” he says from between gritted teeth.

  “I know.” I climb off him and hand him his gun.

  He takes it and climbs to his feet, huffing in annoyance.

  I turn to speak to the group. “Primitives aren’t as smart as us. When they attack, they do it with brute force. Your best chance of survival is to take them down, damage the head with a bullet or a knife, then take the head clean off. If you can’t manage it, then do as much damage as you can and run as fast as you can.”

  The youngsters seem to absorb what I’m saying.

  “Show us again,” Alfie says gruffly.

  We face off again, re-enacting my moves in slow motion to show the children how to take an opponent down. They practice, then we try something else. The afternoon passes quickly and pleasantly as we laugh and play in the clearing while learning how to defend ourselves. I pick up a few useful pointers from Alfie on how to build more strength and stamina. Though Wolfe has taught me most everything he knows, Alfie is closer in size and has a similar fighting style.

  We’re about to shut our impromptu teaching session down and go in search of some much-needed food when a blood-curdling shout shakes the trees in the surrounding forest.

  I’m laying on the ground, Alfie on top of me, his teeth bared as though he’s about to bite me. I was showing the others how to win a fight when the opponent gains the upper hand.

  Suddenly Alfie disappears and I’m laying on my back staring into the trees above.

  I roll on my stomach in time to see Wolfe’s blade high in the air, about to fall onto the hapless Alfie who’s laying sprawled on the ground.

  Five

  “Wolfe, no!”

  I lunge toward Alfie and Wolfe, rolling to one knee and holding my wooden sword protectively over Alfie.

  Of course, wood versus metal is no contest. Wolfe’s blade barely hisses as it slices my sword in half. I close my eyes tight, thinking I’m about to witness the gruesome death of a good man.

  When no screaming or death gurgles, no breaking bones or splashing blood, occurs, I open my eyes and look down. The top of Wolfe’s blade taps against the base of Alfie’s throat. The man stares up at Wolfe with a combination of terror and defiance.

  I quickly look up at my ‘saviour.’ “They weren’t hurting me. We were only playing.”

  “I know.”

  Pleasure sizzles through me at the sound of Wolfe’s deep rusty voice. It never ceases to send a physical thrill through me.

  “Then why are you attacking him?”

  I climb to my feet and try to shove Wolfe’s arm, to knock the blade aside. It’s like moving a boulder.

  “He was touching you.”

  “Seriously?” I move so I’m facing Wolfe, my angry gaze snapping against his rock-hard one. “You’re having a fit of jealousy right now? You do remember that I was kidnapped earlier today?”

  He grunts.

  “Well, these people saved me.” Not exactly true, but the small lie will go a long way toward Wolfe not decapitating the man who touched his soon-to-be bride. “I order you to release this man.”

  Wolfe raises an eyebrow. Still, he doesn’t move.

  “Now, Wolfe.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  Dammit.

  “Because… because I’m your Warlord.”

  It’s one thing to tell the children surrounding us I’m the Warlord, it’s quite another to admit it to Wolfe. He won’t let me go back on my words. It’s going to be official. I am the Warlord of Santa Fe Sanctuary.

  He moves his sword away from Alfie and drops to one knee in the dirt. He slams his fist over his heart. “Warlord.”

  The forest, the people, the entire world disappear as I stare at Wolfe in awe. He is beautiful. His missing eye, his beaten-up face, the scars criss-crossing his body. They speak of a life of battle. His rippling muscles, his hulking form, they belong to a warrior. My warrior.

  “Rise, soldier.”

  Wolfe moves gracefully as he stands to his full height, shoulders back, hands loose at his sides.

  A
lfie scrambles to his feet, moving quickly to stand protectively with the children. He doesn’t need to worry. Wolfe is no longer a threat.

  “You finally accept your place?” Wolfe demands, speaking low enough that only I can hear him.

  “Yes.”

  Wolfe swoops in for a kiss, cupping my face in his huge hands and covering my lips with his. It’s an unexpected kiss. Wolfe rarely displays affection in front of others. He is the stoic soldier.

  Yet, I know my acceptance of the title of Warlord brings him great joy. Maybe more than when I’d agreed to be his wife.

  Strange man.

  I grip him by his leather vest and use it to stand taller and closer, kissing him back.

  When he breaks the kiss, he stares down into my eyes, his forehead against mine.

  “You may be my Warlord, but you will never again order me to hold my blade. Understand?”

  “I understand.”

  He continues to stare at me, causing my heart to beat even harder.

  “Doesn’t mean I’ll listen.” I grin up at him.

  Lust flashes in his gaze, and I know he’s thinking about all the ways he can tame me.

  Alfie clears his throat behind us.

  “Uh… will you… your… soldier… be eating with us?”

  “Really, Alfie, relax. He’s not going to kill you.” I look back at Wolfe. “Yes, he’s staying. He needs to see this place. We can negotiate the vaccine over supper.”

  “You’ll give us the vaccine then?” Alfie asks quickly, hope lighting up his face. “Enough for everyone.”

  “Depends on what you’re feeding us.”

  “Juniper’s making our evening meal,” Alfie says excitedly. “Trust me, you’ll love it.”

  The food is indeed delicious and I can’t get enough of the fresh stewed vegetables and antelope meat. The flavouring is so good I insist on Juniper telling me exactly how it was made. She tells me about her favourite spices, grown in their garden plots, including rosemary and sage.

  The world has been in survival mode for so long that things like food spices have become an unnecessary luxury. Having tasted Juniper’s stew, I decide they are now a necessity and vow to let Tabitha know we need to add them to our greenhouse supply.

  Apparently Wolfe agrees with me. He eats three heaping bowls of stew and looks disappointed when there’s none left for a fourth bowl.

  After we finish eating, Alfie starts a fire in a pit and we sit enjoying the warmth, talking and laughing. Wolfe sits at my back while I relax against his warm chest.

  “I want you to join my Sanctuary council,” I tell Alfie bluntly.

  I can feel Wolfe stiffen at my back, but I ignore him.

  Alfie looks shocked. “Why?”

  “Because you’re already coming and going from my city at will, may as well come in legitimately.” I give him a hard stare. “One day soon you’re going to tell me exactly how you get spies into my Sanctuary so we can shore up our defences.”

  Ignoring the last part of what I said, Alfie asks, “Why would I want to join your council? What do I get out of it?”

  “You get to share ideas. This is a pretty sweet setup out here, but it’s not perfect. You have vulnerabilities. One good strong breeze could knock this place down, which would send you begging for Sanctuary.” Not exactly true, but he gets my meaning. “You will share your societal structure, medicines and knowledge of local cuisine with us and in return, I’ll give you enough vaccines to cover your population. I’ll also share our research.”

  “What kind of research?”

  “Our doctor is conducting research on Necrotitis Primeval. She’s looking for a cure.”

  He gapes at me. “Impossible.”

  “Maybe,” I agree. “But it’s worth trying.”

  He thinks about it, sitting back in his seat, his hands over his belly. He takes his time before answering, contemplating the snapping fire in front of him. I give him his time. A connection between our two settlements would be beneficial for everyone.

  Finally, he nods. “Yeah, okay, I’m in. How often will you need me to come to the city? We don’t have cars out here, so it’ll be a hike.”

  I think about it, then ask, “Would you be amendable to giving one of my people a free pass in and out of here? I can send someone with a car when we need to meet. If you’re not available, you can elect a representative to come with them.”

  “We can try and see how it goes.” He looks cautiously pleased by our conversation. “I haven’t been in a car since I was a child. We can’t get them in here and we rarely need to travel far.”

  We discuss some of the details, agreeing on a date and time for the next council meeting. Alfie will be driven into Sanctuary to meet the rest of the council and take his place. He will be returned the next day.

  Wolfe hasn’t spoken during our exchange, but he finally speaks. I can feel his chest rumbling against my back as he speaks.

  “You will come to the palace tomorrow for the confirmation of the new Warlord,” Wolfe says, looking at Alfie. “You can see how she is revered by her people.”

  I twist around to glare up at Wolfe. “Don’t you think we should discuss this before you commit me to a public ceremony?”

  “No.” He says nothing else, and I know it’s as good as done.

  Stubborn, difficult man.

  I push away from him and stand, dusting the back of my jeans. “I think I’m ready to get home.”

  Wolfe stands wordlessly with me, towering over everyone in the area. Most stare openly at him, all keep their distance. I’m used to his effect on other people. Sometimes I wish I was a one-eyed ugly monster. Most people don’t take me seriously until I stick a blade in them.

  Wolfe leads me, Scarlett and his men through the trees, declining Alfie’s offer to take us back to the road. I have full confidence that Wolfe knows exactly where he’s going.

  Sure enough, an hour of walking leads us directly back to the road where four cars await us. Wolfe’s is in the lead.

  I climb inside, waiting for him to instruct his men on placement. He is ever vigilant about security.

  Finally, he climbs inside with me and fires the engine. There’s something extremely sexy about his strong veined male hands resting on the steering wheel, the power of an engine humming in front of us, the dust kicked up behind us as he roars down the winding mountain road.

  After several minutes pass without saying a word, Wolfe finally speaks. “Be sure you know what you’re doing with these people.”

  I look at him curiously, but I’m not offended. I know Wolfe well enough that I know he doesn’t speak without meaning. If he must speak, then he’ll speak his mind and leave it at that. I think I’m the single person he actually converses with regularly for more than a few seconds at a time.

  “What do you mean?” I ask. “I shouldn’t invite them into Sanctuary?”

  He shook his head. “No, but keep them close if you’re going to maintain contact with them.”

  “What would you have done differently?”

  He looks at me for long seconds, which has me gripping the dashboard hard.

  “Keep your eyes on the road!” I snap.

  He flashes a feral grin and does what I ask, returning his gaze to the winding mountain road.

  “Answer my question.”

  “Don’t need to, you already know the answer.” His response is terse, but I can tell he’s not annoyed.

  “You would drive them out,” I guess.

  He gives a brief nod, keeping his eyes on the road.

  “Why?”

  Again, he doesn’t answer. So I answer for him.

  “You see them as a potential threat to our resources, don’t you?”

  Finally, he speaks. “And to you.”

  “Why to me?”

  “You are the blood saviour, which makes you a prime target.” His voice grows deeper at the thought of me as a target.

  “Is that what they’re calling me now?” Alfie had called
me that as well.

  He grunts but otherwise doesn’t respond.

  The Blood Saviour. Hmmm, I like it. I should get my sister on the radio and tell her we’re the Blood Saviours.

  I settle back in my seat and close my eyes, leaving Wolfe to get us safely home. I’ve had a long day of being kidnapped, indiscriminately killing my captors and meeting the Mountain People. A nap sounds amazing right about now.

  Six

  Wolfe

  Skye is sound asleep when we arrive back at Sanctuary. I navigate the streets carefully, not wanting to jolt her. Citizens wave as we pass them, sending a flicker of pleasure through me. Not at the interaction, but because Skye is already making a difference to our people. They didn’t wave before she came, instead hurrying away from the Warlord’s vehicle.

  They don’t yet know that Skye is their Warlord, but they will soon.

  It’s time for her to pick up the mantle and accept her place freely and with pride. I saw a flash of the Warlord spirit when we were in the Outsider camp. I hadn’t lied when I told her I would have wiped the encampment out, but I’m proud of the way she handled herself. She negotiated with ease and a sense of shrewdness.

  She’s also instinctively using war techniques by keeping her potential enemies close in the guise of a friendly partnership while maintaining control over their existence. She might not realize that’s what she’s doing, but I recognize the tactic. She certainly doesn’t trust the Mountain People, yet she wants them nearby.

  I maneuver the vehicle past our guard station and into the underground lot, taking my spot by the doors that lead into the palace.

  It’s an old concrete high rise, built at the turn of the 21st century. During the initial wave of Necrotitis Primeval, the building was used as a fortress because it was high and not easily penetrated. But when wave after wave of Primitives hit the city, it was eventually abandoned and left to crumble and rot, like most buildings around it.

  When the Santa Fe Sanctuary was established, the new Warlord shored up the fortifications and imported luxury items, turning the building into his palace.

 

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