Chapter 152: Taran

As Diogo steps to the side I take his spot, feeling the heat of the fire sweep over me. I fling the names of my loved ones into the fire; my parents, grandparents, brother and Emery. We lost her almost two months after she'd been bitten. She didn't turn, but she was never able to recover from the injuries she'd sustained. In the end, her death had been almost a relief. Every passing day was agony for her as she continued to grow weaker and weaker until she could no longer eat or drink by herself. Then she stopped being able to speak until finally her organs shut down.
I've had many people in my life die, some violently, some from illness, and some, like my grandparents, simply disappeared from my life so I never found out what happened. None were quite like Emery. Every day I sat with her. I sang and I talked to her, I looked after her. She tried to fight, but after a long battle with little improvement she had finally passed away in her sleep when I wasn't there to comfort her.
A part of me died with her that day, a part that was young and hopeful, that could look at the world with optimism. I just didn't understand how we could be given so much hope when a miracle happened and my blood saved her, only to have her taken from us a few short months later. I still don't understand and maybe I never will, but for Emery I will keep fighting to see the brightness in every day.
Skye takes my place and tosses her own names into the fire. I'm not sure who she's mourning, but I can probably guess. We both lost our family at too young of an age, but she has also lost a husband and many friends when her Sanctuary fell. Now, except for me, she's alone. And as far as I can tell, completely miserable.
As we walk away from the pyre, surrounded by our fellow citizens, we fall silent, each one of us deep in thought as we use this day, the Day of the Dead, for what it's meant for; we remember. Finally, as we approach the checkpoint bisecting our sector from the area that separates Old Tucson from the rest of the city, Skye turns to say her goodbyes.
"When will I see you?" I ask her, hugging her close.
"Soon," she promises.
Something in my chest releases at her response. Skye won't leave without saying goodbye first. If she says she'll see me soon then she means it. She turns and heads back into Old Tucson with the other refugees. She could've driven into Sanctuary, but she chose instead to make the long walk with her people. I watch for a moment until she disappears from sight.
"Let's go home," Diogo murmurs in my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. I take his hand and we continue on our path back into Sector One.
Karl meets us at the building with a sleeping Blaze held securely in his strong arms. He nods at us and heads up the stairs at a fast clip, intent on getting the baby to his bed. I smile at his protectiveness. His job isn't done until he sees his charge tucked into his bed and sleeping safely and soundly. The huge man never once complained about being taken off military duty and given babysitting duty. I couldn't have asked for a better protector for my son.
We make our way back up the stairs. Diogo picks me up about halfway through the climb and carries me the rest of the way. I don't complain. Our long walk to the city gates has taken up most of my energy. I tell Grayson that he can go home now, but he insists on seeing us right to the door before he signs off for the night.
"Goodnight," I murmur to him with a smile as Diogo sets me on my feet. I feel an overwhelming urge to hug my bodyguard. He has protected me every day for almost two years. He's put his life before mine and doesn't resent the job.
But my husband will likely object to me pressing myself against another man, so instead, I try to tell Grayson how I feel with my gaze. Risking his life and limb, I also reach out to squeeze his arm. Uncharacteristically Diogo remains silent through the exchange.
Then we're inside and alone. Finally.
"I'm going to check on Blaze," I announce, unsnapping the button on my cloak and pulling it off.
"Don't be long," Diogo replies, his voice a dark promise.
I grin and hurry into Blaze's room. As I look down at him, I'm overcome with emotion. Though this is the day to mourn our losses, it's also a day of celebration. Celebration for those lost lives, for the things they accomplished and continue to accomplish in our hearts. Thanks to my parents and grandparents I know what love looks like. I'd learned patience and compassion from Emery. And I've learned the depths of all my emotions and the passion I'm capable of with Diogo. These are lessons that will stay with me, even as the faces of the dead slowly fade into the darkness of memory. I will live to pass their legacy onto my children and grandchildren.
I brush the tears from my lashes, determined that there will be no need for more. I touch my fingertips to my lips and press them against the downy softness of Blaze's forehead. I leave his door open so we can hear when he wakes up. Lately he's been trying to climb out of his crib and I want to know right away if he falls.
Diogo has lit every candle in our bedroom, casting the room in soft shadows. I go into his arms, revelling in their incredible strength. He has taken so many burdens for this family, for this city and the desperate people pouring in looking for Sanctuary. His shoulders are broad and strong, able to take the burden. But sometimes he is also vulnerable. He feels the losses acutely. Not just the ones he cared about, but the deaths he's been forced to witness and unable to stop, the deaths he's personally ordered and the ones he knows will come. He is not the unfeeling monster I'd thought him to be when we first met.
Perhaps it's the emotion of the day, or our gratitude for being alive. Our lips meet in a passionate, almost desperate kiss. I go up on my toes to deepen the contact with my much taller husband. He lifts me against him, holding me tight and giving me what I need; his hands, his tongue, everything all at once.
He grips the collar of my dress and tears, and for once I don't care. I reach for his shirt, pulling at the buttons. He pushes my hands aside and does it for me, rending the fabric right down the front while never once breaking our kiss. He pushes me back on the bed coming over top of me and caging my face between his palms, holding me in place and protecting me at the same time.
I reach between us, tearing at his pants and quickly freeing him. Our need reaches a fever pitch as torn clothes fall to the floor. Our battle is a silent one though, both of us aware of our son only one room over. In a single move Diogo is inside of me. I groan into his mouth, wrapping my arms around his neck and hanging on tight as he pumps into my welcoming body. He reaches down and grips my hips, holding them in place so he can thrust harder, faster, deeper. Our shared urgency takes over and we cling to each other through the storm of our passion until we both finish almost together.
Diogo holds me against him, my face pressed to his chest, his arm wrapped underneath me and over my shoulders, his other palm wrapped possessively over my hip. We don't find out for several more weeks, but this is the night our daughter is conceived.
I fall asleep with Diogo's whispered words of love in my ear.