When I don't answer his question he continues, "As for where we’re going. We're heading out to survey the city and supply sheds. I want your opinion on some priority projects."
I raise a brow, but he doesn't see my expression. We're both going down the stairs at a rapid pace. "Why do you need my opinion? You're the Warlord, it's your job to figure that shit out."
I almost regret my words. I don't want him to change his mind and take me back to the harem. But I am curious. Why would he want my opinion about anything? Wolfe does what Wolfe wants, regardless of what anyone else thinks. Even when he had to answer to Silas, he was always doing his own thing.
I finish my tea before we hit the bottom level and pass my cup off to one of the waiting guards who takes it with a slight bow of his head. This respect thing the guards have to show me is pretty sweet. I step outside into the warm sun and tilt my face upward. It's been a long three weeks of captivity. After spending months on the road prior to coming to Santa Fe, I’d gotten used to outdoor living.
Wolfe strides around the idling vehicle and gets in the driver side. I assume he wants me to follow and I reach for the passenger door. One of the guards steps forward and opens it for me. I give him a tight smile and slide in.
"Seatbelts."
Ugh, the seatbelt thing again! This guy is obsessed with safety.
"You know I don't like them."
"Too bad." He reaches over to fasten my seatbelt for me, then grabs his from across his own shoulder and buckles himself in. "Unless you want to stay cooped up in the palace, you'll wear your seatbelt."
His tone of voice is oddly familiar. Stern, but caring about my safety. Like my parents, and my grandparents. Even my sister is motherly, always worrying over the well-being of others.
I can't think of Wolfe that way though. He's too dangerous, too bloodthirsty. He's nothing like my family.
Wolfe takes me on a tour of the city and I get to see first-hand the damage caused by the Primitive hordes when the city fell. It's not as extensive as I had originally thought, but it’s still heartbreaking. Many buildings and homes that had been standing just over a year ago are now razed to the ground. Burnt out shells of what they used to be. I wonder if the families that once lived inside managed to escape or if they perished. Maybe they still live in the city.
As always, Wolfe is able to see my thoughts. "Most were killed. Some stayed to rebuild, others showed up from Sanctuaries that are now unlivable."
"Like the doctor," I murmur.
He nods. "Yes. Her and others."
I turn and look at him curiously. "You allow a female doctor to work within the walls of Sanctuary."
He glances at me. "I don't hear a question."
I sigh deeply. This man can be so aggravatingly difficult sometimes. He knows exactly what I want, but he's going to make me dig for the information.
"I want to know why you allow a woman to work as a doctor in a Sanctuary. The practice is pretty much unheard of. She's young and she's pretty, and she'd make a good wife for someone. She could have strong, intelligent babies. Why hasn't she been married off to one of your soldiers?" My words come out in an angry rush. I'm not exactly angry at Wolfe, but I am angry at the situation. I hate that this is what women have become.
He doesn't look at me but continues to drive. "She's a good doctor. We have need of a doctor more than we have need of more mouths to feed."
It's not exactly what I want to hear. I want him to tell me that women are capable of doing whatever men are. That he appreciates the doctor’s tenacity in learning her profession and practicing it in a world that doesn't accept female doctors. I want to hear these things, because then I’ll know for sure he appreciates me for who I am; a female warrior determined to make a better world.
Instead, he's told me the truth as he sees it. Where there's a need he'll fill it. If they did need more babies in the Santa Fe Sanctuary, Dr. Summers probably would've been married off. A depressing thought. All that talent going to waste.
I fall silent as we continue our tour of the city. Most of the industrial section has remained untouched and is now a busy hive of activity. Wolfe tells me this is where they’re keeping the city supplies, including food, building materials, clothes and seeds.
I watch in fascination as someone leaves with several bars of twisted metal under his arm. He throws them into an old rusty truck, climbs in the back and is driven away. Another person leaves a warehouse with a couple of sacks under his arms, likely food supplies.
Next, Wolfe takes me to the big gates of the city and waves for them to be opened. I'm growing more curious by the minute. It's rare to leave a Sanctuary city, unless a person is going on a hunting trip. Wolfe is acting as though this is an everyday occurrence. Maybe it is for him. He doesn't even speak to his men as they open the gate.
Instead of taking me for another tour, he drives straight to the water refinery plant. I see immediately why he's brought me here. Half of the plant has collapsed into a heap of rubble, probably taken out during the zombie attacks, since it was mostly intact a year ago when we fled the city. When we arrive, he parks as close to the gates as he can get and we walk the rest of the way toward the ruins. He cocks his rifle, which he pulled from the back of the vehicle.
Taking his lead, I pull my gun with one hand and my knife in the other. Wolfe taught me this strategy. Shoot the zombie, take it down to the ground, cut its head off.
He doesn't say a word as we walk. He doesn't need to. There could easily still be zombies in the area, hiding out in these buildings. Not all of them would've been able to keep up with their horde. Newer zombies would've taken a few days to finish their Turn and figure out their new state of being. They might've gotten left behind when the hordes moved on.
We move safely through the building until we reach the control center. I gasp in dismay as I see the disaster left behind. All of the computer equipment has been taken out. I'm not sure exactly how it worked to begin with, but I remember Silas telling me that we were lucky to have this plant. It was the sole reason why our Sanctuary was as successful as it was. Our ability to maintain a steady supply of clean water for the city.
"We don't have any water, do we?" I ask, fear creeping into my voice.
A society can't survive without water. The entire city will have to migrate to another. What kind of Sanctuary will accept that many thousands of people? Some of them elderly.
"We have what's being pulled up from the river. A tedious, tiring task that some citizens are unable to complete without help. I have soldiers pumping water when they should be protecting the city. For many weeks, our main focus has been on keeping enough water in the city. We have to boil it, which means we need fuel for the heat. As you know, it’s not easy to come by."
He runs a hand over his hair and for the first time I can see his frustration. This is a problem he doesn't know how to deal with. Probably doesn't want to deal with it either.
"What are you going to do about it?" I ask softly.
I don't like that look of frustration on his face. Wolfe is always so controlled, so confident, that any other expression feels like a punch to my gut. It means that things must be dire.
"Not me.” He looks at me. “You. What are you going to do about it?"
“What am I going to do about it?" I ask incredulously. "What can I do about it?"
He turns to give me his full attention, his arms crossed over his chest. "When Silas’s health began to decline, you were there. You picked up the slack and you ran the city. Every part of it, including the water. You tell me what we should do."
I want to argue with him, tell him that this isn't my problem. My mission was to spread the vaccine as far and wide as I could get it. He interrupted that mission and now he’s demanding that I solve his problems? I open my mouth to tell him all this, but then the truth hits me. This was my Sanctuary… is my Sanctuary. I care about the people here. If I can do something to help, then I should.
I bite my lip and pace awa
y from him, the gears of my brain turning as I try to figure out a solution. Most cities are able to get water in one of two ways; a well, or a river and treatment plant. Our treatment plant is now off-line, which leaves us with one other option until we’re able to fix the damage, which could take years.
"Dig a well." I turn to look at him, to see if he's considering my words.
He nods slowly. "It's a solution we thought of, but it comes with its own set of problems. We've had one well collapse and another dry out almost as soon as it was dug up."
"That's because you don't know what you're doing."
He raises his eyebrow. "And you do?"
I shake my head. "No, but I know who does."
Eighteen
"Where is the Warlord?" I demand, walking swiftly through the front doors of the palace and addressing the nearest guard.
It's been five days since Wolfe dumped a city full of problems in my lap. Five days and I’ve only caught snatches of him as we passed each other in the halls, as our vehicles passed in the city. I'm frustrated and I need to talk to the Warlord.
"In his chambers," the guard I addressed answers.
I nod my thanks and begin climbing the stairs up to the Warlord’s chambers. About halfway there I decide it would be in everyone’s best interests to move the Warlord’s chambers to a lower floor. I’m in good shape, but I’m huffing and puffing by the time I reach the top of the building.
I push the heavy doors to the Warlord’s chambers open and walk inside, allowing them to slam shut behind me. Once again, there are no guards. Wolfe really hadn't been kidding when he said that I had free run of the city now. I'm still guarded at all times outside of the palace and I'm not allowed to leave the city limits without a heavy escort, but aside from not being able to actually leave I'm not restricted in any way.
"Wolfe?" I call out.
The Warlord's chambers appear to be untouched from the last time I was here. I walk past the solarium, ignoring the urge to stop and tidy the overgrown plants. I feel guilty as I glance inside and realize that the effort I put into weeding the garden is now overrun again. It’s becoming clear that no one actually comes in here, except maybe to occasionally water the garden. I will have to change that.
I continue past the solarium, glancing into each room. Finally, I arrive at the Warlord's bedchamber and hesitate outside the closed door. It feels strange being here. I'd only entered this chamber as the wife of another Warlord when he summoned me for intimacy. Now, everything has changed.
I start to regret my impulsive decision to come searching for Wolfe. I’m about to leave when his voice calls out commanding me to enter the Warlord’s bedroom. He must have heard me calling for him.
I open the door and then freeze.
His back is to me – it's bare. He's wearing only a pair of leather pants sitting low on his hips as though he unlaced them at the front. Scars crisscross his back in a horrific display of shredded and badly repaired skin. I lift my hand to smother my sound of dismay and step forward into the room, drawn to get a closer look at the map of scars across his skin.
I've never seen anything like it. It's both beautiful and horrifying. This man has been through so much, survived brutal attacks. Seeing this, some of my antagonism toward him melts away.
In the back of my mind, since finding out he took the position of Warlord, I've thought of him as a usurper. Maybe not a fair thing to call him, but it's how I feel. Silas had been my Warlord. I don't want any other Warlord, yet this man stands here, steady and strong, proving himself daily.
Something inside me loosens and releases. Though we are in Silas's old chamber, it no longer looks the same. All the plush wall hangings, pillows and ornaments have been removed. There's only a bed, not even Silas's old bed, but a different one. The windows have all been pushed open, a light breeze caressing the interior of the room.
"You came here for a reason?" He doesn’t turn around as he speaks. "You wish to scrub my back?"
I realize he’s in the middle of bathing himself, a sponge in one hand and a bowl of hot soapy water in front of him. Unable to tear my eyes away, I approach slowly and cautiously, giving him a wide berth. I know how lightning fast Wolfe can strike and I don't want to be in the way if he decides to reach for me.
There's always been a certain kind of intensity between us. Several months ago, before he left the Tucson Sanctuary, I thought maybe… maybe… something was happening between us. But then he abruptly left.
I can't blame him. I'd been bitter and angry over the death of my husband and the loss of my Sanctuary, but it still hurt, losing the man who had become my anchor. I still don't understand why he left.
"Okay, I’ll wash you." I decide to call his bluff, see what he'll do.
But of course, Wolfe never bluffs. Without turning to face me, he dips the sponge in the water and then hands it to me, water dripping down his strong, veined arm. I take it from him tentatively, already regretting my comment. I don't want to wash him, but I don't have a choice now. I need to learn when to keep my mouth shut.
I sidle up to him and place the sponge in the middle of his back, slowly dragging it down. It's not so bad, washing a semi-nude man. In fact, Wolfe is an interesting texture where my fingers brush against him. The scar tissue makes his flesh feel ridged, but not rough. He’s still soft and smooth in places, like a patchwork quilt. His back should be ugly, disgusting even, but it's not. It's beautiful. A testament to his strength.
"You came looking for me?"
I’m so preoccupied with the sponge and buffet of male flesh in front of me that I almost miss the question. Then his words catch up to my foggy brain and I nod, even though he can’t see it.
"The city needs to be more organized," I say to him, my voice husky. I clear my throat and try to speak with more conviction. "I can't be everywhere at once. I need someone to oversee the wells, someone else to oversee the treatment plant, and yet someone else to take care of food storage. And those are just the basic needs. We also need a better medical facility and someone to organize educational programs in the city. There's just too much work. Things are falling apart Wolfe. The city won't survive much longer without stronger leadership."
He turns on the spot and catches my wrist in a loose grip, holding the sponge aloft. Warm water trickles down my wrist and arm touching his thumb where he holds me. His golden eye blazes down at me and I can see his Adam's apple bob. The only indication that I’m making him as uncomfortable as he's making me.
"Then do it," he says, his voice hard. "Assign whoever you want. Get the city in order."
Frustration wells up and my hand involuntarily fists, causing more water to gush out of the sponge and run over our arms. He ignores it. I narrow my eyes at him.
"Isn't it the Warlord's job to assign city workers?" I say sharply. "I'm nothing more than a kidnap victim. I can't do everything for you."
He curls his lip in disgust and I'm surprised at the emotion. It's so rare for any kind of expression to cross his face. I get to him more than anyone else, perhaps force feelings from him that he's not used to feeling.
"If you’re a victim then you belong in the harem. I can arrange for you to be sent back anytime you want." He plucks the sponge from my hand and tosses it back in the bowl.
"Of course I don't want to go back to the harem!" I snap, stepping back from him and putting space between us. I try to wipe the water from my arm onto my shirt. He catches my action and tosses a towel at me. "I'm just saying, it's not my job to put the city in order."
"Then what use are you?" His words are harsh, though his voice and face have gone neutral again.
"Excuse me?" I gasp, slamming my hands down onto my hips. "I had an extremely important job to do distributing the vaccine. You're the one who took me away from that."
"Your team is gone, get over it. Everyone in this city has a job to do, everyone must prove their usefulness, including you." He takes a step toward me. "If you refuse to help put the city in order, I'll
have no choice but to find a use for you elsewhere."
"What’s that supposed to mean?" I growl, frustration welling up and threatening to ignite into fury.
His gaze drops down my body. "Your womb."
I gasp and stumble back another step as he steps toward me. "You wouldn't do that to me."
He stares at me and refuses to speak. I'm starting to realize that this is how he navigates emotional situations. He places his words carefully and then stops speaking, allowing the other person to absorb what he said, to draw their own conclusions.
In this case, he's been extremely clear.
Either I do the job of a Warlord and get the city functioning again, or I become just another female baby maker.
What I want to know is, whose baby would I be expected to have? Wolfe told me he wanted me for his wife, but he hasn’t made any moves since that declaration. I thought it was an empty threat. Now, I’m not so sure.
I hurry away from the Warlord’s chambers, determined to show him how useful I can be as more than a walking womb for his seed.
Nineteen
I look at the people assembled before me, looking back at me with expectation and skepticism. These are six of the most skilled people in our Sanctuary. Some of them are smart enough to figure out why I've gathered them here, which is why they look skeptical. I don't blame them; I'm skeptical too. This is never going to work.
But Wolfe directed me to put the city in order using whatever talent I see fit, and I need these people in order to do it.
I start the meeting. "Thank you for agreeing to join me today. I’m hoping this will be the first of many meetings, and the first step toward real change in the Santa Fe Sanctuary."
"I see what you're doing," a woman speaks up. She was introduced to me as Tabitha, our agriculturist. "I respect the thought, but it's never going to work."
The Road to Wolfe (The Sanctuary Series Book 4) Page 10