Skye's Sanctuary (The Sanctuary Series Book 5)

by Nikita Slater

  No, it will be done.

  I wash myself and pull my clothes on before having a leisurely snack. It’s late in the afternoon. Wolfe will be on the wall or working in another critical part of Sanctuary. He’s completely reliable in his priorities and work ethic.

  When I leave the room, I find Kingston on the other side of the door, as if he has spent the entire day waiting for me to appear. His eyes scan me quickly from head to toe and I notice a subtle relaxing of his shoulders.

  “You were worried about me.”

  He shrugs. “The health of the Sanctuary depends on the well-being of the Warlord.”

  “Uh huh, well, I’m alive and on the mend, which must mean the Sanctuary can now thrive again,” I tease.

  He grunts and looks me over again, taking notice of my wrist guards and leather calf boots. Both are part of my battle gear, but I’ve been wearing them in Sanctuary as well. If my people see me as a warrior, they will trust me to lead them with strength.

  “I’ll contact Wolfe and let him know you’re awake.” Kingston reaches for the radio on his belt.

  I narrow my eyes at him. “Leave him be. I’m certain he’s busy, especially since he’s been picking up the slack for me.”

  Kingston shakes his head. “He didn’t leave your side through your illness and has been delegating duties so he can spend time with you. It was your council who collectively reorganized your duties and took care of the running of Sanctuary.”

  “Were there any problems?” I ask curiously.

  “Nothing except the flu.”

  A small, selfish part of me is disappointed that Sanctuary ran just fine without my presence. A person likes to feel invaluable. And if I’m being honest with myself, I will admit that I am attached to my Sanctuary, it’s well-being as important to me as the people within. I can’t live without Sanctuary and I don’t want it to live without me.

  I shake off the momentary melancholy. Too philosophical for today. I’d rather enjoy the sensation of being alive and well.

  “If you wish to accompany me, I’m going to visit my sister.”

  I catch a look of surprise from him as I turn and stride toward the exit. He’s not used to getting an invitation from me when I go places. I usually let him decide if he’s coming or not. Perhaps cheating death has changed my perspective.

  As we enter the corridor, I see Wolfe striding down the hall toward me. The closer he gets, the fiercer his frown becomes.

  Still, my heart beats faster at his presence. If we didn’t have an audience of palace guards, I’d launch myself into his arms and beg him to remind me what it feels like to live again.

  “Get your ass back in bed,” he snaps as he closes in on me.

  “Wolfe,” I say with determination. “I appreciate all you’ve done for me, but I’ve been in bed for over a week and I’m better now. The doctor cleared me for duty this morning. You can radio her and check, but for now, I want to see my sister, then I want to see my Sanctuary.”

  He stares at me, and I can see a war going on behind his single golden eye. A part of me feels for him. He’s a strong alpha male with protective instincts toward his mate. Toward me. Yet, he’s made me the Warlord of this Sanctuary, putting me in a position of power.

  I sense that we’re headed for an inevitable clash. He’ll have to decide when to bow to me and when to press for his own way. His decision will affect the way our people see me, the way they treat me. Particularly the security staff. Which could lead to a coup if anything were to happen to Wolfe.

  I’m under no illusion that the decision will be mine. Wolfe has physical strength and the loyalty of our security force behind him. He will either need to bow to me and bend the loyalty of our people to their new Warlord, or he’ll split their loyalties and weaken our Sanctuary.

  Of course, my love is smart enough to realize this. I feel for him as he’s at war with himself, fighting his baser instincts to do what he knows is best. He’s placed me in the seat of power because he knows I will be best for Sanctuary.

  I wonder if our inevitable clash will be now, in front of these witnesses. I can feel the gathering storm snapping all around us and I must admit, I’m pleased. Our chemistry, our feelings for each other, can’t be contained. It’s wild and free, electrical and deadly.

  It makes me feel more alive than anything else.

  I want to wrap myself around him and cling, feel the storm as it crashes all around us.

  I don’t. I remain still, looking regally at my second-in-command as he comes to a decision.

  He nods toward Kingston. “I will escort the Warlord to her family. You will go to the wall and supervise the crews. I’ll relieve you later.”

  Kingston gives his former Warlord a curt bow and walks swiftly away.

  I walk past Wolfe, who falls into step beside me. When we enter the stairwell, he takes my arm in a firm grip and walks slowly at my side as I traverse the steps.

  My body is weaker than I would like, but the incredible feeling of life after illness is flowing through my veins, elevating my mood. I’ll quickly be back to normal, I have no doubt.

  We push the door to the harem open to find Taran and Diogo locked in a private moment. His arms are wrapped around her rounded body, and he’s bent over, whispering something in her ear. Taran smiles up at him, a loving look in her eyes.

  My sister is beautiful.

  Taran was always attractive, but as a child she was small and skinny in a world that favoured the robust. She made up for her lack of stature in scrappiness. She could run faster than anyone else in our family and when cornered, she could scratch and bite like a feral animal. I’d always admired her optimism and ability to fight a lost cause.

  I was always far more pragmatic, even pessimistic. I was… am… positive the world is trying to kill us.

  “Skye!” Taran exclaims when she catches sight of me.

  She rushes toward me and I brace myself against Wolfe as she launches herself into my arms, hugging me tightly. I’m surprised by the strength in her grip as she strangles me with her enthusiasm.

  “I’m okay,” I tell her, laughing as she sobs against me.

  “I can’t lose you,” she wails.

  I catch Diogo’s eye and see a spark of pleasure at my appearance. He and I bonded when I spent time in Tucson, our mutual love of Taran transcending any friction that came up. It would seem he’s happy I didn’t die.

  I push Taran away from me so I can scold her. “You shouldn’t have come here. Wolfe told me you drove by yourself.”

  Diogo dips his head so we can’t see his expression, but I catch enough to know the thought of Taran travelling alone is horrific to him. I feel the same. She isn’t skilled enough at combat to manage in a fight. She was damn lucky she made it here.

  “How did you fuel up?” I demand, pushing her away. “It’s fucking dangerous to stop on the road. How the fuck are you alive?” My scolding turns angrier as I picture every plausible scenario. “Why would you take the risk? You have more than yourself to think about, Taran. You were reckless.”

  She covers her belly protectively but looks me in the eye. “I had to. You would have done the same.”

  I open my mouth to lie to her, but Wolfe grips my shoulder. When I look up, he shakes his head. “You would have done the same.” He echoes Taran’s words.

  I blow out a breath. “Maybe, but I’m combat ready. I have a decent chance against any threats I might encounter. Hell, I took care of an entire camp of Outsiders single-handedly.”

  “You did what?” Taran asks in a strangled voice.

  We sit together and I tell her about my recent kidnapping… no, more like temporary relocation, by the Outsiders, which led to my meeting the mountain community.

  Taran tilts her head to the side as I tell her how the Mountain People survive and thrive outside of Sanctuary.

  “Impressive,” she murmurs, then looks up at her husband. “We’ve heard rumours of people living in the mountains around Tucson. I wonder
if they’ve built a similar community.”

  He grunts. “Maybe. Conditions are harsher in our mountains. Hotter with less shelter.”

  “It doesn’t hurt to check,” she insists. “We could use more allies.”

  Diogo’s gaze softens as he looks at his wife, before admitting, “It won’t hurt to check.”

  She grins at him. “It’s settled then.”

  “How long will you require Sanctuary?” Wolfe asks bluntly, interrupting their moment.

  It’s clear from his tone of voice, he wants them to leave as soon as possible. Two Warlords in a single Sanctuary are a recipe for disaster. Our situation is unique, though. We’re not in competition for resources. We’ve been working together, building a solid alliance between Sanctuaries.

  “They can stay as long as they like,” I say, looking at Diogo. “You’re welcome in this Sanctuary for as long as you like.”

  “They will need to see to their own Sanctuary.” Wolfe crosses his arms over his chest and glares at the room.

  “Grayson is temporary Warlord while we’re away,” Diogo counters. “He’s proved himself competent.”

  Taran reaches for his hand and slips her fingers against his palm. “We trust him with our lives. He’ll take good care of Sanctuary.”

  “It’s settled then,” I say. “You’ll stay and see our progress. I’ll show you our Primitive research program. Dr. Summers has done a remarkable job of setting it up, with the guidance of your Dr. Bishop during their weekly radio meetings.”

  Taran smiles. “We’ll help you get back on your feet while you battle this awful flu.”

  Diogo shakes his head. “You will remain in this harem while I inspect this Sanctuary, then we’ll make a decision.”

  Wolfe turns to leave, saying to Diogo, “Accompany me to the wall. You can provide your opinion of our rebuild.”

  Nineteen

  I don’t stay long with my sister. There’s too much to do and I’m already feeling the pull of exhaustion after too many days of inactivity. I hug her goodbye and promise to come back later.

  “I’ll have the palace cook send a meal up to the Warlord’s chamber later. The four of us will eat together as a family.” The words feel right as they leave my lips and I have to fight tears. I’m being sentimental, but the last time I had an organized meal as a family was when I was a child, when my family was still alive.

  Taran answers with a sad smile. She feels the same. Sad for the past, excited for the future.

  “Take care of yourself and don’t overwork,” she scolds as she slowly follows me to the door.

  I glance down at her belly, which looks impossibly huge. “How many weeks do you have left?”

  “Six.” She glances away as she tells me.

  “Damn it, Taran!” I snap. “You could pop at any moment. It was reckless for you to come here.”

  She glares at me. “So you said, but again, you would have done the same.”

  I want to shout at her for putting herself and her baby in danger, but I can’t. As we’ve already established, I would have done the same.

  “Stay here, I’ll be back later.” I leave without another word, giving the harem guards instructions not to let my sister leave under any circumstances. The only people allowed in are her husband, Wolfe, and myself. Even we are a risk to her, but we’ll take as many precautions as we can before contact.

  I wonder if Diogo is worried about travelling with Taran back to Tucson Sanctuary. I make a mental note to talk to the doctor about preparations for Taran’s birth in case it happens in our Sanctuary.

  A baby would actually be pretty amazing. Some of the people living in our Sanctuary know Taran and Diogo well after being taken into the Tucson Sanctuary after the zombie attacks. They are a well-loved couple and it would be good for morale if they had their baby here.

  I wish they’d brought my nephew, Blaze, with them, but understand it was too risky. He is almost two now.

  I step into the stairwell, my guards surrounding me, but have to stop for a moment to breathe through a wave of dizziness. I consider going back to my room. After all, I came close to death a week ago. I decide to push on, though. There’s too much that needs doing in our Sanctuary.

  Climbing into the passenger side of my vehicle, I decide to visit the greenhouses first, then the water treatment plant, and finish with the hospital. It will be a long day and I’ll have to take it easy, but I need to see the progress for myself.

  As predicted, the day is long, but satisfying. Two of the four planned greenhouses have been erected and Tabitha already has seedlings in one. Modelled after the successful Tucson plan, we will also build barns at the same site, to hold livestock. Soon, our Sanctuary will be self-sustaining. We won’t need to rely on hunting trips and trade to fill our food coffers.

  Next on my list is the water treatment plant, which is being worked on by Anita and Dolly with a team of construction workers. The plant will take years to complete, but Dolly assures me that basic functioning could come online within the next few months.

  This news is worth celebrating and I decide that our Sanctuary as a whole will throw a celebratory party once we have clean water flowing into the city once more and the threat of flu is over. At the moment, we’re forced to rely on ground wells and makeshift river filtration systems. We’re constantly experiencing shortages, which stresses out the citizens.

  Free-flowing clean water will do wonders for morale.

  I leave the plant, glancing at the sun. It’s around 6:00 PM. I should get back to the palace, wash up and ready myself for supper with Wolfe, my sister, and her husband. I’m eager to get back, but decide to check on the hospital before calling it a day.

  I have Kingston drive me back into the city. He parks in front of the hospital and climbs out with me.

  “You have about twenty minutes before Wolfe comes looking,” Kingston says, an edge of disapproval to his voice.

  “He can wait.” I grin at him. “Besides, he’s all bark, no bite.”

  “Only with you, Warlord.”

  I’ve asked Kingston to call me Skye, but he seems determined to use my new title as often as possible. I must admit, hearing ‘Warlord’ is growing on me.

  The duty nurse hands me a mask as I walk past her desk. As I put the mask on, Dr. Summers comes around the corner and catches sight of me. The exhaustion that seems to settle on her like a blanket is now even more noticeable.

  “Sheela,” I exclaim. “Come, sit with me. You look awful.”

  She laughs, but the sound is brittle. “Thanks. That’s high praise coming from someone who was on death’s door.”

  “You’re beautiful, as always, but you look like you could do with a week’s worth of sleep.”

  “I feel like it, too,” she admits, allowing me to pull her through the hallway as I look for an empty room.

  Finding one, I guide her inside and ask Kingston to stay in the hallway.

  I push her into a chair and perch on the edge of the bed, facing her. “You can’t keep working like this. You’re going to collapse and then we’ll all be fucked.”

  She bursts into laughter and shakes her head. “You, my Warlord friend, have a way of cutting through the bullshit and getting to the point.”

  I shrug. “Never saw much point in small talk. We’re living the apocalypse. We could die at any time.”

  Her gaze grows serious and her eyes search my face, then drop down my body, probably cataloguing my colour, recent weight loss, and whatever else doctors look for.

  “How are you feeling?” she asks, dragging her stethoscope from around her neck and putting it in her ears.

  “I’m more worried about you, right now.”

  She pushes the edge of my shirt to the side. She listens to my heart for a moment, then moves around to my back and listens from behind. When I look at her, she nods, satisfied.

  “No fluid in your lungs. Everything sounds good.” She gives me a stern look. “Though a few more days recovery wouldn’t hur
t. You might not be contagious anymore, but you can still fall prey to exhaustion.”

  “I can recover when I’m dead.” I give her the same look she’s giving me. “Now spill. Why are you so tired all the time? You look like you’re on the verge of collapse.”

  She sighs heavily and folds her body back into the chair, her shoulders slumped.

  “I have insomnia,” she admits. “I don’t sleep. I can’t sleep.”

  I stare at her. I’ve heard of it, but never experienced it. I’m one of those lucky people who can sleep anywhere, at any time, for any length of time. I do rest lightly in case of attack, but I’ve never had trouble getting enough.

  “Is this a recent development?” I ask anxiously. Have I put too much on her plate? She’s so damn competent, I sometimes forget that the delicate blond woman sitting across from me might not be able to handle the huge work load I’ve piled on her.

  She shakes her head. “I’ve always had it, but it gets worse when I’m stressed out. This flu has me shaken, though it seems to be slowing significantly with the quarantine measures.” She gives me a grateful look. “I lay awake thinking about everything, which makes me too anxious to sleep.”

  I’m at a loss. I’ve never dealt with quite this problem before. I want to order her to get some sleep, but I don’t think that will work.

  Living during the apocalypse gives us so much to worry about that we’re all in a constant state of anxiety. It makes sense that it would sap a person’s ability to sleep easily. We’re in a constant state of fight or flight, wondering what terrible thing might come along to kill us next: Primitives, flu, Outsiders.

  Peace of mind hasn’t been a thing for decades.

  “What can I do to help?”

  She stares at me as though she’s never heard the question before.

  She shakes her head. “I’ll be fine.”

  I sigh and give her a steady stare. “No, you won’t. Not at this pace and not without sleep. Think about it and let me know what you need. I can get you more help, I can give you time off. We can plan another poker women’s night. Let me know and I’ll make it happen.”