The Road to Wolfe (The Sanctuary Series Book 4)

by Nikita Slater

  I turn my gaze to Silas, helpless as the memories of who he was flood through me. Silas, the quietly confident man who gradually won me over. He took the love I eventually felt for him, delicately wrapped it up, and cradled it close to his own heart. Despite many of the things he did wrong both in the city and with the women of the harem, I can't hate him.

  "What about him?" I ask, drifting back to touch the glass over his face. "Have you studied him yet?"

  "Not much," Dr. Summers admits from behind me. "I don't want to do anything too invasive with him. If there's one that we're going to try to save, it'll be him, which means I can't harm him as I experiment."

  A shudder ripples through me as I realize what she's saying. She will have to harm the others in order to get the answers she needs. I don't know why this bothers me, considering I’ve spent so much time killing them. But those kills, they were self-preservation. I was being attacked. This is different. Strapping them down, cutting them open, experimenting on them. It feels wrong.

  Yet, I know that we need a cure. Or as close to a cure as we can get. Until that happens, humanity will never be safe. These few will have to be sacrificed in order to help create a new world.

  Hand still on the glass, eyes locked with Silas’s dead gaze, I say, "He's not my husband anymore. He’s no longer the Warlord." I turn to Dr. Summers, giving her a level look. "Do what you have to do to get the answers you need."

  She absorbs my words and then nods, her eyes dropping to the ground. I can tell her in the brief rounding of her shoulders, the heavy air about her, that she is not as unaffected by all this as she seems.

  I reach out and wrap my hand around her arm, holding her for a second. "You can do this. You've already blown my expectations away. You will go down in history as the woman who cured Necrotitis Primeval."

  I deliberately use the word ‘woman’ to emphasize her astounding accomplishment. In a world run by violent men, without the proper technologies, she has somehow managed to rise up to confront a virus that has crippled our entire planet.

  Her shoulders stiffen and she raises her chin, giving me a sharp nod and stepping away, breaking my grip on her arm. "I’ll do whatever it takes."

  I glance at Silas, biting my lip. I don't regret the decision I’ve made, but knowing that when I walk away from the lab it might be the last time I see him is a hard pill to swallow. "Can I… can I touch him?"

  I shake my head at myself. I'm as good as the Warlord and here I’m asking for permission. Dr. Summers opens her mouth, probably to deny my request, so I repeat myself, rewording the phrase. "I want to see him." I turn to Kingston and Denny, who entered the lab with me and are now standing by the door watching our exchange. "I need you two to secure him please."

  No one denies me, no one tries to stop me. They put the female zombie back inside the glass cage before attempting to lure Silas to the door so he can be recaptured and strapped down for my inspection.

  When they finally wrestle him into a chair, we quickly strap his arms and legs, then pull back his head up with another leather strap. Dr. Summers insists on covering his mouth with a leather mask, so his bite is rendered ineffectual if he manages to get teeth on any of us.

  "Please leave." I give the command without looking. I only have eyes for Silas in this moment.

  "Skye…" Dr. Summers begins to argue.

  I shake my head. "Please go. I won't be long and then he's all yours. "

  I hear them shuffle out, though I don't turn around to watch. I know my time is limited; one of the guards will be radioing Wolfe about this. Once the door closes behind them, I reach out to take Silas’s hand. His fingers immediately curve into sharp broken claws as he attempts to dig his nails into my flesh. I readjust my hold, determined to keep touching him. Even though zombie Silas wants me dead, I still want him to feel the comfort of my touch.

  "A lot has happened since I last saw you." Tears immediately fill my eyes, though I try to dash them away. "I fled the city like you wanted me to. I went with Wolfe and a bunch of other survivors to the Tucson Sanctuary where we were set up on the outskirts of the city. Except we were followed to the Sanctuary and had to endure constant attacks. It was awful."

  I know he can't hear me. Not really. But I imagine that my voice is calming him. His unblinking gaze remains on my face and I hope that some small part of what I'm saying is getting through.

  "I saw my sister there. She has a baby now and seems happy with her husband. Hannah is doing well too. Do you remember Hannah?" I shake my head at myself. "Stupid," I mutter. If even a small part of his brain has been preserved then he’ll remember Hannah, his longest held and most caring wife. The rest of him, the zombie parts, know nothing of any of us. "Hannah has been helping to create educational programs for the children living in the city. You would be proud of her. She’s still our sweet Hannah, but she's grown quite a backbone. One made out of solid steel."

  Death and destruction will do that to a person. I'm a much tougher woman than I used to be. A warrior now. I don't tell him this though. If any part of him understands what I'm saying, I don't need him knowing how many zombies I've killed in the past year. His Primitive side might take offence.

  "I'm with Wolfe now." I force the words out through a tight throat. I swipe at the tears dripping down my face. "I love you Silas, a part of me will always love you. My heart shattered when I was forced to leave you behind. I would have given anything to die at your side. But it's time for me to move on. This past year has taught me just how short our lives are, and I need to take advantage of the years I have left. Try to be happy. You know what I mean?"

  Of course he doesn't know what I mean. I'm not going to get anything from him, so I decide to finish this. Sever the connection still holding us together and step into the future with my new love.

  "Please don't hate me," I whisper, closing my eyes and allowing grief to settle over me. I just need a few minutes to allow the memories free rein, then I’ll pull myself together and walk away, leaving him to the experiments.

  "What the fuck are you doing?"

  The roar comes from behind me, startling me. I twist around on my knees to find Wolfe stalking toward me, his face twisted in rage, his muscles bunched, his fists ready.

  I know he's not coming for me, so I leap to my feet and throw myself across Silas, knowing if I don't calm Wolfe down, he'll kill my former husband. He can't do that; we need Silas too much.

  "Wolfe, stop!"

  I've never seen him like this, blinded by rage. He’s a killer, yes, but he’s always in control. This is different. This is personal.

  He blindly shoves me out of the way and I topple to the side. I immediately twist around to look as he sends his fist flying into Silas's face. Silas’s chair flies backward, shattering against the bench. Silas falls to the floor in a limp heap, unmoving.

  "What have you done?" I shout, hurling myself at Silas.

  "Don't touch him!"

  Just as I reach out to touch Silas, he lunges from the floor and leaps on top of me, his unnaturally strong hands gripping my limbs as his face descends to mine. His sharp teeth pierce the mask and dig into the delicate skin at my neck.

  Thirty-Nine

  The mask saves me from having my throat torn out by my zombie husband. For one frozen second we stare into each other's eyes, my grey ones sad, his red streaked brown ones crazed. There's no trace of the Silas I knew in the face above mine.

  Then our moment is over. Silas is torn from my prone body and thrown across the lab. I flinch as I hear his body take out several tables. Glass smashes to the floor.

  I roll onto my side to check the damage and to see if Silas is still alive, but Wolfe is on top of me, kneeling over me, his hands everywhere as he checks for injury. His expression is thunderous, nearly as out of control as when he first entered the lab.

  "Wolfe…" I try to appeal to him, but he slaps my hand away and surges to his feet, turning back toward Silas.

  I climb stiffly to my feet as well
, holding onto the table for support. I look around frantically and see Silas is still lying in a heap on the opposite side of the lab, Wolfe rapidly closing the distance between them, his hand on the hilt of his gun.

  "Wolfe!" I scream.

  He doesn't flinch and he doesn't stop. He pulls his gun out of the holster at his hip and holds it on Silas as he approaches.

  I hurl myself across the lab as fast as I can possibly move and fling myself in between them before Wolfe can pull the trigger. I see his finger twitch on the weapon, but he pulls back as soon as he realizes who he'll hit.

  "Get out of my way," he snarls.

  I can sense movement behind me and realize that Silas is still alive and attempting to get up. Dammit, I don't want to keep my back turned to a zombie, but I have to stop Wolfe.

  "No," I say sharply. "Your reason for killing him is wrong."

  "He's already dead." Wolfe reaches out, grips my arm and drags me out of the way.

  Relief surges through me for a split second now that I no longer have my back to a zombie. But a new fear arises, the one that I can't stop Wolfe no matter what I say or do. I have to try though, for the sake of everything we're trying to accomplish in this lab. For Silas's sake. For the sake of my budding relationship. Silas doesn't deserve to be put down by his former second-in-command, the new Warlord of the Sanctuary that Silas gave so much of his life to.

  I clutch Wolfe's arm, digging my nails into his skin in an attempt to draw his attention. He doesn't shift focus for even a second though.

  "Wolfe, if you kill him now it'll be revenge. This is not a mercy killing. This is not because he hurt me. This is purely because you want my husband out of the way." I soften my voice and my grip on his arm. "Please, don't kill him. This isn't you. You don't kill innocents and you don't kill without reason."

  Finally, he drops his gaze to me, his face smoothing into an expressionless mask. "If you think that, then you don't know me."

  Anger surges through my body at his words. This is the first time Wolfe has ever lied to me and it makes me unreasonably furious. I yank my hand away from his arm.

  "That's a lie. If you killed without reason, then that man who attacked you on the wall would be dead. I would be dead. Instead of teaching me how to fight you would've left me to the zombies. You've saved countless people, all of them innocent. So don't you stand there and tell me that you’re a badass merciless killer with no sense of remorse or regret." I point at zombie Silas who has now lurched to his knees and is attempting to regain his footing. We need to end this conversation quickly before he becomes dangerous again. "If you murder Silas now, you will regret it. I'll make sure of it."

  Wolfe stares at me, never looking away for a single second as Silas finally regains his footing and starts looking around, his crazed eyes searching for the prey he'd lost sight of. To Wolfe's credit, he doesn't seem even remotely concerned that there’s a zombie alive and well only a few feet away from us.

  "He’s no innocent," Wolfe says, his voice hard, his expression disappointed as he looks at me. I've put that look there, but I don't understand why. Or what I've done.

  Without looking, Wolfe reaches out and takes hold of Silas zombie by the back of the neck.

  "No!" I shout, thinking that he intends to finish Silas.

  I'm wrong though. Wolfe drags the struggling Primitive over to the glass walled cage, opens the door and throws him in. He slams the door shut and locks it. For a minute all three zombies go wild, screaming, banging, attacking each other and themselves.

  I look away, unable to watch as Silas beats the smaller female zombie who is curled in a ball on the floor.

  Wolfe stalks back over to me, grips me by the neck and drags me up onto my toes, his gaze boring into mine. "Even before he was turned, Silas was never innocent."

  I don't have time to argue as Wolfe grips my arm so hard I think it might bruise and drags me from the lab. He doesn't stop to speak to Dr. Summers or her assistant as we move rapidly toward his vehicle. He shoves me inside and then goes around to his side. It speaks to how angry he is that he doesn't insist I buckle my seatbelt or do it for me.

  We make it back to the palace in record time due to the insane speed Wolfe insists on driving. He drags me up flight after flight of stairs, uncaring that I can barely keep up. I'm in damn good shape, but this man, when angered, can probably climb mountains without losing his breath.

  When we reach the Warlord's chambers, he continues without stopping until we reach the bedchamber. Over the past few weeks all of my stuff from the harem has been moved in and the space is much less austere. My patchwork quilt, made by Hannah four years ago, is spread out on the bed. A tiny glass bird my sister gave me is sitting on the table next to the wash bowl. Wolfe doesn't seem to mind the feminine touches, if he even notices.

  Finally, he drops my arm and steps away from me. But when he turns to look at me, I take a step back, fearing for myself even more than when Silas jumped on me and buried his teeth in my neck.

  "What the fuck you were doing in the lab?" he demands.

  My gaze drops to his fists, both clenched and shaking in anger. He wants to punch something, and I hope to god it's not me. One punch to the head with those massive fists and I could easily be finished.

  Still, I straighten my spine and speak with dignity. "I was saying goodbye to the man who used to be my husband, before he probably dies under experimentation. Now you tell me, what the fuck were you doing in the lab? We went to a lot of effort to bring those live zombies in and you damn near killed one."

  Fury flashes across his face and I take another quick step back. Perhaps I should moderate my tone, but I've never been one to back down from a fight, and Wolfe declared war in that lab.

  "Don't pretend that you care about Primitives all of a sudden," he growls. "You wanted to see your husband."

  "He's not my husband anymore!" I yell furiously.

  He points at me and shouts, "Exactly!"

  The room shatters with the force of his shout and a ripple of fear goes down my spine.

  "Then what's your problem?" I yell back at him. "We both agree, he's not my husband anymore!"

  Wolfe lunges at me before I have time to step away, grips me by the back of the head and drags me into his body. I'm forced to go up on my toes or risk being strangled by his hold. I reach up and grab him by his thick leather vest and cling, like a desert shrub shaking against a boulder. I may be a warrior to be reckoned with, but without weapons, against a man the size and skill of Wolfe, I don't stand a chance.

  "You belong to me." The words are said with such conviction that there can be no doubt.

  "I know!" I bare my teeth at him, showing my own anger, as ineffectual as it might be.

  "You've always belonged to me." His eye is a laser focused on my face. As everything else fades, we’re left with each other, our emotions, our perfectly fucked up love.

  "Then why didn't you claim me a long time ago?" I allow him to hear the hurt in my voice as I speak the words I never dared to say when I didn’t want him to know how badly he’d hurt me when he left. I try not to allow the tears to come, but I know that a sheen now covers my eyes. "All those years ago when I was brought to the Sanctuary, you acted like you hated me. Like I was a nuisance. You treated me like a problem instead of someone you might actually care about. And then, a year ago, you let me go. Instead of claiming me as you say you want to do, you let me go."

  Hurt colours every word coming out of my mouth and I can see the effect of them reflected on his face as his own hurt rises. Then he does something unexpected, something I never thought to hear from him. He admits he was wrong.

  "I should have," he says quietly, his grip becoming less painful.

  "Should have what?" I ask, confused.

  "Should have claimed you when that Outsider brought you here to sell. I should've put a bullet in his head and immediately claimed you. Should’ve overthrown the Warlord, taken the city and reigned over its inhabitants with you as my q
ueen."

  My heart hammers in my chest as I remember those moments all those years ago when I was first brought to Sanctuary, the tension in his body, the look in his eyes. I didn't recognize it then, couldn't possibly have known what he was thinking. But now… now I realize, I changed the entire course of his future when I'd been brought into Sanctuary.

  "Why didn't you?" I whisper.

  He answers right away, surprising me again. "Because you weren't ready for me and I sure as fuck wasn't ready for you."

  Before I can question him further his lips crash down over mine, sealing our moment of truth in a kiss. He holds himself that way, his lips pressed to mine, not taking it further but simply allowing the moment to unfold.

  It's not until I try to pull away, try to take a breath that he finally snaps and devours me. His lips take mine in a harsh, all-consuming kiss. His teeth sink into my lip, tugging until I open my mouth then his tongue thrusts inside, conquering the territory within.

  His hands are everywhere, and before I know it my leather jacket, my shirt and my pants lay in a pool on the floor. He lifts me naked against his own leather clad body and strides with me to the bed where we fall together.

  I reach for him, burying my hands in the tangles of his hair and dragging his head down to mine, anchoring myself to him as I kiss him back, showing him with my actions instead of my words how much he has always meant to me. I pour the turbulence of our relationship into every second of that kiss as he reaches between our bodies and unlaces his pants.

  I lift my hips and in one smooth move he surges inside. I fling my head back and gasp as I'm stretched to the hilt. He wraps an arm underneath my neck and holds me against his body as tight as he possibly can as he thrusts savagely against me, slamming his hips into mine over and over.