Chapter 88: Diogo

I separate only a hairsbreadth from her lips and ask in a low voice, "Are you ready to go home?"
"I'm ready," she whispers back, opening her eyes and staring straight into mine. The deep velvety grey depths catch and hold me.
I release her face and slip my hand down her body, reaching for her hand. I take it into mine and give her a reassuring squeeze before turning back to her sister. Skye is watching us intently, her eyes bright. Her lips are curved in a small, defeated smile. She has seen the depth of our feelings and won't try to come between us. I wouldn't allow it, but I can't simply kill Taran's sister. At least not in front of Taran.
Taran tries to break out of my grip, presumably to say goodbye to her sister. I pull her back against me, wrapping an arm around her middle and holding her in place, her back to my chest. I bend and say in her ear, "No."
She twists around and raises an eyebrow at me then stares down where my arm is barring her from moving. I'm beyond glad that her attitude hasn't changed a bit while she was out of my care. Still, she's not straying from my side for at least the next thirty years, possibly the rest of her life.
"I need to say good-bye," she says firmly and tugs on my hand. I don't release her.
"She can come to us." The words come out harsher than I'd intended, but I don't care. Taran will soon learn the depths of my protectiveness. I'd trusted her, trusted my guards, trusted the whole damn Tucson Sanctuary to take care of her, but my trust was misplaced. She'd been attacked and kidnapped in one of the most secure sectors of the city. Again. I will not be allowing my kidnap prone wife out of my sight for the rest of her natural life.
"It's okay, Taran," Skye reassures her and approaches us slowly, her eyes on me as if expecting a predator to suddenly strike.
I don't release my woman, forcing Skye to wrap her arms around Taran while I'm still holding her against me. She does it anyway, braving a possible strike to say good-bye to her sister, possibly for the last time. She buries her face in Taran's shoulder, holding her tight. I can tell by the way her back heaves that she's crying. Taran wraps her arms around Skye's back and holds her tight. She's whispering something against Skye's shoulder, but even I, with my close proximity, can't hear.
Wolfe moves to cover Skye's back while she hangs on to Taran. I glare at the other man, but oddly, he doesn't glare back. His stare is on the heaving Skye. I'm confused about their relationship. My understanding is that she's married to the Warlord and that it's a happy marriage. Yet the second-in-command clearly has feelings for the first lady of this Sanctuary. A complicated mess I have no desire to dissect further.
I drop my head to Taran's ear, the opposite side of her sister's head, and say, "Time to go, baby."
At my words she only clings tighter, hugging with every ounce of strength in her tiny body. Her sister hugs her back with equal fervor. When I hear Taran gasp for breath, I decide to extricate the two. I pull Taran away from her sister, but Skye looks to follow, tears streaming down her face. I nod toward her man and he steps toward her, taking her shaking shoulders in his hands. She thrusts him away and stumbles to the side.
Straightening her shoulders once more and swiping at her tears she says, "I'm fine, don't touch me!"
Wolfe's face hardens and he steps back, giving her more room.
"Skye" Taran whispers.
It's becoming quickly clear that the sisters won't separate on their own. I lift Taran against my chest and carry her back to the car where Stryker holds the door open. I deposit her onto the seat and turn to my man. "Keep her here."
I stride back to Skye, who's standing by herself, looking lost and lonely, the hot wind blowing her skirt against her legs. "You've got what you came for," she says as regally as possible, but still unable to hide the edge of bitterness. "Please leave. There's only enough room for one Warlord in this city."
Funny that she invokes her husband, a man that couldn't be bothered to join us. Or perhaps a man unable to join us. If that's the case, then the future of this Sanctuary is looking grim. The fall of a Warlord destabilizes the government of the Sanctuary, causing ripples through the entire community. I wonder if Skye intends to take over, or if she'll hand the reigns to someone else, someone stronger. Perhaps the man standing at her back, watching like a sinister shadow waiting for the perfect moment to strike. There is no place for a woman at the head of a Sanctuary. Perhaps she's calling the shots for her ailing husband, if he is indeed too ill to perform his duties, but once he passes, the people will never accept a woman as their next leader.
"I want the man who brought my wife here. If you're holding him, then pass him over and we'll be on our way."
Her chin snaps up and she glares at me. The grey look is both intense and familiar, an exact replica of Taran's stare. Instead of being intimidated, as I'm sure she intends, I feel only a jolt of amusement. She's lucky she's so similar to my wife. If she wasn't, these negotiations wouldn't be going so well. She and her men would be laying in bloody pieces while I walk out with my wife.
"He's dead," she says succinctly.
"I killed him." This from Wolfe.
Rage flares at the loss. I lock my muscles so I don't attack the man that has denied my revenge. Apparently feeling the tension in the air, Skye steps closer to her guard, then interestingly, slightly in front of him, as though protecting him.
"I'm sorry we couldn't keep him for you." Her gaze flickers down and then back up, then she adds in a low voice that only the three of us can hear, "He was about to point out Taran's scar."
Understanding dawns and another wave of fury washes over me. Talon had intended to not only sell my wife as a possible concubine to the Warlord of this Sanctuary, but as a curiosity as well. She could have been examined, experimented on, dissected. If Taran hadn't had an older and protective sister in attendance who knows what could have happened to her before my arrival.
I nod at Skye. "You have my gratitude."
She smiles slightly and relaxes. Her tears are now gone and she looks wistfully toward my car. As is the way of our reality, she is once more accepting the loss of a beloved family member. In this world our lives are made up of moments, tragic moments, happy moments, moments where we have to make split second decisions that will decide our futures, or possibly decide whether we have a future. Skye is rolling with yet another blow to her life, accepting it and moving on before the dust even settles. My respect for her rises.
"If you ever need Sanctuary, you will always be granted entry into mine."
"Thank you," she whispers. "Safe journey Diogo. Perhaps we'll meet again."
She turns and walks away, signalling for her men to fall back. As I watch, the heavy gates of her city slam shut, locking us out.