It occurs to me he’s placed himself in the same position he was in with Silas, and a chill runs through me. Why does he want to be the blade behind the throne? And what will it mean for me… for us… in the long run?
I glance around the table. The council is talking amongst themselves.
“Thank you, everyone for attending.” I smile at Alfie. “Especially those of you who have to travel. Our next meeting will be two weeks from today.” I address the doctor next. “Dr. Summers, please continue with your experimentation. Let me know if you need anything.”
I dismiss the room, but I don’t stand to leave with them. Wolfe and I need to clear the air before I’m willing to continue as his Warlord.
Twenty-Three
The room empties, and only Wolfe and I remain.
Once everyone leaves, I stand and cross over to the door, closing it. I turn back to look at Wolfe, the length of the table between us.
The room snaps with energy and I’m exhilarated by it, though I sense a battle on the horizon. I can tell from the sparkle in Wolfe’s eye and the way he’s tilting his body toward the table, toward me, that he feels it too.
“You have something to say to me?” I ask.
His lip tilts up. “I could say the same to you.”
“I’ll go first then,” I say briskly, and he dips his head in a nod. “I want to know why you placed me in the position of Warlord.”
His eye narrows. “We’ve talked about it. I don’t repeat myself.”
Anger rushes through me. “You talk, everyone around you listens. I don’t think you always speak the whole truth and I don’t think you’ve given me all your reasons for making me Warlord.”
He stiffens, and his fist clenches on the tabletop, but he says nothing. I know Wolfe well enough to know he doesn’t like having his integrity called into question. Tough. I need a better explanation for his machinations.
“You could have easily taken the position of Warlord from Silas. You tell me you didn’t because you don’t like making Sanctuary decisions and because he was too frail from illness, making it unsporting. Is that correct?”
He nods, but again doesn’t speak.
“You made me Warlord, yet unlike my ex-husband, I’m well aware that you are the real power behind my throne. That you could seize my position at any moment.”
His lip curls up again and my heart beats faster. He likes that I refer to Silas as my ex-husband. Even when we’re fighting, I can’t help but respond to him. He’s not handsome, but his attraction is so strong for me, I feel giddy when he’s near. My heart calls to him even when I want to bash him over the head with something heavy.
He stands, pushing away from the table. His body is roped with thick slabs of muscle that make most people turn away in fear. I want nothing more than to fling myself at him and shove my hand down the front of his leather pants. Not a professional thought to be having in my council room, but true nonetheless.
Slowly, he stalks toward me. “You think I’ll take your throne?” he asks, his deep voice enigmatic. “You think I would enslave you?”
I picture myself at his feet, a chain wrapped around my neck, at his mercy, and rather than anger, I feel a surge of intense lust.
I shake the image away and stand my ground, tipping my head up. “You would have a hell of a fight on your hands if you tried.”
“I would welcome it.”
“I know you would,” I whisper, mesmerized by him as he stops in front of me. He’s standing too close for casual conversation, but he’s not touching me. “I must admit, a part of me would welcome it, too. We’re good at battling, you and I.”
He lifts his arm, slow enough that I can back away if I want to, but I don’t move. He wraps his hand around my throat. His hand is so big that his fingers circle the entire column. I don’t often feel fragile, but in this moment I’m well aware that if Wolfe wants to, he can easily crush the life from me. Yet, I feel safe in his grip.
“I won’t depose you.” His golden gaze is serious as he says the words I need to hear.
“Not even if you don’t agree with me?”
He chuckles, the sound a vibrating growl in his throat. “I rarely agree with you.”
I laugh too. “I hadn’t thought of that, but you’re right. We almost never agree.”
He leans down and touches his forehead to mine.
“I made you Warlord because that was always my intent. If I have to, I can manage a Sanctuary on my own, but I’m a warrior. I would run a brutal regime. My only goal would be survival, which would kill individual freedom, expression, and human rights. I don’t care about these things, but I recognize that most people do. It was what our civilization was before the Great Fall and it’s where people seem to want to go back to. I’m happy to watch the world burn until there’s nothing left but ash, and I probably would have followed that direction if I’d never met you. While I still don’t care about the lives of others, I know you do and I want to live in a world where you get everything you want. You are the leader this Sanctuary needs, not a scarred-up warrior with nothing to give but blood and violence.”
I’m surprised by his speech, by his honesty. I can’t remember the last time I’ve heard this man string so many words together. He’s not comfortable with spoken language, yet he speaks eloquently because he knows I need to hear it. I cherish every word and tip my head up to his, pressing my lips to his.
“Thank you,” I whisper against him. “I won’t give you cause to lose faith in me.”
“That would be impossible.”
He wraps his arm around my waist and slips his other hand into my hair, anchoring me as he kisses me. I lose track of everything, time, place, my own name, as he takes me on a sensual journey, while fucking my mouth with his.
I slide my hands into the collar of his shirt, unbuttoning the first few buttons and shoving the shirt back. I kiss my way down his throat until I can feel the rapid beat of his pulse against my lips. I love the feel of his heartbeat against my skin.
I pull back and whisper, “Let’s take this to our bedroom.”
He shakes his head. “You aren’t well enough yet for the kind of fuck I need.”
I nearly explode into orgasm from his words alone.
I grin at him mischievously. “Then you can watch while I fuck myself with my fingers. I’ll make myself come for you, and then we’ll see how strong you are, soldier. I’ll wager you can’t resist.”
His grip around my waist becomes painful, but I love it. I love that he can’t control himself with me.
“You are my greatest torture,” he says gruffly. “Always have been.”
“Good,” I say brightly.
I grip his hand and drag him to the door, aware that I wouldn’t be dragging him anywhere if he didn’t want to go. I fling the door open, but I turn my head to look back at Wolfe.
His gaze goes past my shoulder and changes in an instant, from glowing and lustful to battle-mode.
I don’t have time to ask him what’s wrong. He grips my arms and shoves me so hard I fall into the door and collapse to the ground. I look up in horror, just in time to see Wolfe pull his blade as a woman runs at him.
Not any woman. Hannah.
But she doesn’t look like Hannah.
Her lips are pulled back in a familiar snarl, and her eyes are glazed. She isn’t the same woman who sat at the table only moments ago. Or maybe she is. She’d been staring resentfully at Wolfe.
I scream as she flings herself on Wolfe’s blade, ignoring it completely as she latches onto his chest where I’d unbuttoned his shirt, exposing his skin. She digs her teeth into his throat, snarling her rage, even as his blade runs her through. I can see the bloody tip coming out of her back.
Wolfe throws her away from him, pulling his knife from her. She lands in a heap on the floor next to me.
I react swiftly, leaping on top of her and pinning her to the floor. I drag my gun from its holster and hold it to her forehead, my finger tightening on
the trigger.
Palace guards surround us.
The crazed sheen to her eyes disappears, and her face crumples in pain.
“Skye!” she cries out. “Help me.”
Tears pool in her eyes and fall, dripping into her disheveled hair.
I look up at Kingston. “Hold her.”
He nods and replaces me on top of her, pinning her to the ground. She’s no longer fighting, though. She’s bleeding out on the floor.
I don’t care.
I leap to my feet and run toward Wolfe, but he holds a hand out, warding me off as he backs swiftly away, his hand clamped over the wound on his neck.
“Don’t come near me,” he growls.
I stare at him as tears pour unheeded down my face.
I count the seconds as I wait for the man I love to turn into a Primitive in front of my eyes.
Twenty-Four
We stare at each other as each second ticks by, feeling like an eternity.
“Eight seconds,” I whisper, ignoring the commotion behind me as the guards discuss what to do with Hannah.
I consider intervening, but I can’t take my eyes off Wolfe.
I want her dead for what she’s done.
If anything happens to him, I’ll string her up myself.
Finally, Wolfe nods and I take that as permission to touch him. I fly into his arms, and he holds me against his chest.
I smack my fist into him and mumble, “You should’ve told me you took the vaccine. For a second, I thought I’d lost you.”
His arms squeeze so tight I can feel my bones creak. “You should’ve assumed I took it.”
I laugh, the sound a little watery.
“I’ve never seen you do anything to protect your health, and you’re sceptical of all things zombie-related. Why would I think you took the vaccine?”
He tilts my chin up and forces me to look at him.
“A part of you is in that vaccine, which now runs through my veins. I will carry you with me until the day I die.”
I’m shocked speechless by his words. They’re both romantic and possessive. More than I thought him capable of until recently.
“Warlord.” I turn to find Kingston looking up at me as he pins Hannah to the ground. “What should we do with her?”
I glance at Wolfe, my brain churning as I try to differentiate between my feelings of rage and helplessness when she’d bitten Wolfe, and rational thought. Whatever made her leap on Wolfe and try to kill him wasn’t the real Hannah.
I step toward her, but Wolfe pins me to the spot with a hand on my shoulder. Despite my immunity, he’s not letting me near a Primitive.
I gaze down at her, frowning. She’s laying still, not fighting her captors. Her face is twisted in pain from the knife wound.
“She hasn’t turned,” I murmur.
Wolfe stares at her too. “You saw her face.”
I nod.
She’d looked like a Primitive when she attacked Wolfe, yet she’s calm now. There is no sign of the Turn. I’ve seen nothing like this before, a half-human, half-Primitive hybrid. Maybe it has something to do with all the time she’s been spending with Silas. We won’t know unless she survives long enough for us to talk to her.
“Take her to the hospital,” I tell Kingston. “Make sure she’s strapped down for treatment, then moved to Dr. Summers’ lab. Tell the hospital staff she’s dangerous and needs to be watched. I’ll be down in a while to check on her.”
When everyone leaves, I turn back to Wolfe. “Come on, let’s go upstairs.”
“I have to get to the wall.”
“You were just bit by a fucking zombie, I think you can take a few hours off.” When he looks to refuse again, I step closer, pressing myself against him, chest to chest, hips to hips and wrap my arms around his middle. “Please, for me?” I tip my head back, my chin on his chest, my hair tickling the middle of my back. “Let me be the one to take care of you this time.”
He wrinkles his nose in disgust. “It was a small bite that barely penetrated my flesh. There’s nothing to take care of.”
I stare at him for several long seconds.
“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” he asks.
I shake my head. “Nope.”
“If I let you take care of me, can I go back to the wall after?”
He sounds so much like a young boy asking for permission that I laugh and he joins in.
I step to his side and slide my hand into his. “C’mon, let’s go upstairs.”
When we arrive in the Warlord’s suite, I push Wolfe into the washroom with the big sunken tub. I pat the edge so he’ll sit down. He hesitates, then does my bidding. I turn away to cover my smile. I think I like having him at my mercy.
I dig through our supplies, hidden in a basket in the corner, until I come up with some antibiotic ointment and an adhesive bandage.
Factories were some of the first things to go down during the Great Fall, forcing survivors to loot and hoard items such as these. The stories of people turning savage on each other in their desperate need to get their hands on supplies are still around today. Mothers use them to frighten their children into sharing and working as a community.
Sanctuaries like ours stockpile medical supplies at a common point, which are then distributed to citizens. Our supplies were once locked up in the palace but have since been moved to the hospital where they’re distributed by a head nurse.
Baskets of medical supplies are sent out to most households, including ours.
I stand between Wolfe’s thighs and spread the ointment on the abrasion where Hannah’s teeth sank into his flesh. He doesn’t move, his eye steady on my face.
He’s right. Her teeth didn’t penetrate far, but far enough for her saliva to mix with his blood. If he hadn’t been vaccinated, she might have had the ability to turn him into a Primitive. Or maybe not.
“What do you think is happening to Hannah?” I ask him softly, bending to get a better view as I open the bandage and smooth it over the wound, avoiding the ointment as I press my fingers over the adhesive to get it to stick.
“She’s been spending too much time with Silas.” His voice is gruff, but I hear the edge of disapproval.
I nod my agreement.
We knew she’d been seeing him, yet Sheela and I allowed our emotions to impede our better judgment. We knew Hannah wanted to be with him and we knew he was suffering so we’d allowed a human to spend time with a Primitive.
It was stupid, and the outcome of that stupidity might be the cost of Hannah’s life.
I step away from Wolfe. “I need to get to the hospital.”
He studies my face, and apparently, seeing something there, grabs my arm and drags me onto his lap, his arms wrapping around my waist.
“You aren’t to blame,” he tells me.
“I let her spend time with him.”
“Did you?” he asks with a knowing tone to his voice.
“I knew she was spending time with him and I didn’t stop her,” I clarify.
“She knew what he was when she went in. She will take responsibility for her actions.”
I frown at him. “She didn’t know what she was doing. I would say a knife wound to the belly is enough punishment, if she survives.”
Wolfe swings me up to my feet in a move that leaves me breathless and dizzy, then he stands, towering over me. “She walked into that cage knowing what he was. She will answer for that mistake.”
I step away from him. “Isn’t that my decision?”
“I make security decisions.”
“You let me deal with the Anarchists,” I point out.
He presses his lips together and narrows his gaze. “They weren’t Primitives.”
“We don’t know that Hannah is either. We don’t know what she is.”
“She was a Primitive when she attacked me,” he says. “She can’t go back to her normal life.”
“I know that, but she was… is my friend. I’m not willing to just throw he
r away because she was somehow infected.”
He stalks toward me, backing me up until I hit the wall behind me. He places a hand beside my head, the muscle of his bicep bulging in my periphery.
He places a finger against my chest, right between my breasts. “She could have attacked you instead; could have killed you. She fucked up and she will take responsibility for her actions.”
“What kind of responsibility?” I ask.
“The same thing we would do with anyone who knowingly breaks the law.”
“That’s a range of punishments anywhere from additional community service, to jail time, expulsion or execution. Hannah is our friend. I want to know exactly what you intend to do with her.”
“She knowingly put herself in a room with a Primitive without taking precautions.” His voice is a low rumble and his Adam’s apple bobs right in front of me, the bandage next to it. “What would we do with someone who did such a reckless thing? Someone who isn’t a friend.”
Tears spark in my eyes and look to the side. “Expulsion.”
He lifts his finger from my chest and wraps his fingers around my jaw, forcing me to look up into his serious golden eye. “Expulsion,” he repeats my answer.
I try to speak but can’t get the words past the lump in my throat. I swallow, then try again. “She’ll die without Sanctuary. You know she will.”
“There are consequences to actions.”
He’s right, but I’m not ready to take such harsh measures yet.
“I want to go see Hannah.”
He nods and steps away from me. “Go, but don’t touch her unless she’s strapped down.”
“I’m not stupid,” I snap, stepping away from him.
“No, but she is.” He watches as I leave the washroom without a goodbye.
Twenty-Five
I knock on the door and when the doctor looks up, I step through.
She smiles at me grimly, then turns her attention back to Hannah’s wound.
Hannah is strapped to the bed, her head turned to the side, her eyes closed. I don’t think she’s unconscious. Her lips are curled in a snarl, and her chest is rapidly rising and falling.
Skye's Sanctuary (The Sanctuary Series Book 5) Page 14
