Chapter 121: Diogo

"You're a cold-blooded asshole," Skye snaps in frustration.
I want to tell her that yes, I am a cold-blooded asshole, that her confirming that status won't change my mind on the waves of refugees filling Old Tucson. We've been negotiating on the timeline for integrating old Tucson into Sanctuary, and how to handle the refugees while they wait for our plan to unfold. She objects to the terms I've laid out for accepting some of her precious refugees into Sanctuary. Thinks 200 out of 10,000 is a weak number. She's not wrong, but then 200 lives is not zero lives. Those 200 people will thank their new Warlord while the rest will be left to fend for themselves for the next several months until we're able to take them in.
I remind myself that I'm here to negotiate with the self-appointed unofficial leader of the refugee camp. She is as self-righteous and annoying as the Desert Wren had been before I neutralized her and made her my wife. This thought calms my urge to rescind the offer and walk away. Skye is as passionately optimistic as her sister.
"200 lives, final offer," I tell her, steel running through my voice. "Choose carefully. We have a decent clinic, food supplies and shelter. Send only those that are most in need, but not your elderly or sick. Your choices must be able to contribute."
She struggles to accept my words, her gaze fixed past me on the door at the back of the tent as she contemplates her answer. I'd ordered it clear except for her and her man. Wolfe stands at her back next to her sitting form like a rock statue, solid and unmoving. He doesn't once submit an opinion. Not even a silent one by way of a glance or a facial expression. This man is a complete enigma. Part of me admires him, the other part wants to kill him so I can pre-emptively take out a potential threat before it materializes.
"Alright," she sighs in defeat, her shoulders slumping a little. "I will make the decision tonight on who to send. If I can have them ready, will you take them tomorrow?"
"Yes," I agree.
It's sooner than I'd planned, but Milla, backed by Emery and several of the city's elite women, has thrown herself into preparing for an influx of refugees. I suspect she's using the project to alleviate some of her guilt and grief over Jorje's death. She's being carefully watched by city police in case she holds a grudge against the Warlord and his family, but so far her motives seem pure.
"What about supplies?" Skye asks, straightening a little, her piercing grey eyes on mine. "We need blankets, medicine, food and clean water. And ammunition, as much as you can give us."
"I can arrange for some of everything except medicine. We're struggling to cover our basic medical needs within the city without giving away our supplies."
She nods decisively and stands. "Good enough."
I stand with her, somewhat amused that she seems to be the one dismissing me, rather than the other way around. Though I'm not convinced yet, I'm starting to soften toward the idea that a woman might be able to survive as Warlord. If anyone could do it, it would be this woman with her fierce shadow protecting her back. Of course, she couldn't take a position of such power anywhere near my city.
"Thank you for meeting with me." She holds out her hand and I shake it, squeezing her slender fingers.
Wolfe finally lifts his gaze, his dead stare clashing with mine. I drop Skye's hand and step away from her. His eye fixes on the wall once more and he goes back to ignoring us. He acts as though he could as easily kill me as look at me. Apparently slaughtering Primitives at my side hasn't softened him toward a new Warlord.
"When can I see Taran?" Skye asks eagerly as she walks with me to the door of the tent. "Is the baby here yet?"
I'm surprised it wasn't her first question. Then, Skye is a woman who can prioritize her needs. While she wants to know about Taran's health and the status of her new niece or nephew, she needs to deal with the immediate problem of what to do with thousands of starving refugees being constantly attacked by Primitives. Now that our negotiations are out of the way, she feels able to ask the burning question she's been wanting to ask from the moment I arrived.
"There is no baby yet. Taran seems to be going to full term as her doctor has predicted. Though she would love to have a visit from you. I can guarantee safe passage into and out of Sanctuary if you agree to come see her. We both understand your desire to remain with the refugees until they are safely integrated into Sanctuary. I will deliver you back inside your camp after you see her."
She mulls over my request, trying to decide if she trusts me enough to take me up on my offer. She's not wrong to worry. In this instance, I'm not above lying to get what I want, especially when it comes to the health and happiness of my wife. If Taran wanted it, I would feel no qualms about tricking Skye into Sanctuary and then forcing her to stay. Luckily for Skye, Taran is sympathetic and supportive of her need to defend the people of Old Tucson.
"Maybe you aren't as much of a cold-blooded asshole as I thought," she says, a small smile curving her mouth, relieving some of the exhaustion etching her features. "I think I will take you up on your offer. Tomorrow, I'll cross the gates with the 200 refugees. I will visit with Taran and accept a ride back before dark."
"I'll be coming too." Wolfe speaks for the first time. Once again, I'm struck by the man. He doesn't give a shit about the waves of poor, sick and terrified refugees. He has no thirst for power, if he did, he would remain and solidify his position. He cares only for Skye, and she seems blind to his regard.
She throws a glare over her shoulder at him, but his gaze remains fixed on the wall. "You will stay here and help on the line," she orders him.
His gaze meets mine once more, his one intense green eye speaking his piece for him. I know what he's going to say before he says it. "Where she goes, I go."
I nod my head, interrupting the angry tirade about to fly from Skye's mouth. "A car will be waiting for you at the gates, it will take you to Taran at the new Tower and after you've had a chance to catch up, it'll bring you back." I glance at Wolfe and add, "Both of you."
I turn and stride away leaving the woman to argue with her self-proclaimed bodyguard. I'm not interested in their drama. My own wife brings enough of that to the table for me. With a broad grin I get back into my car and head toward the gates of Sanctuary, eager to see Taran and hold her against me, reassure myself that she's real, alive, and unharmed.