Chapter 18: Taran

I'm awake in an instant, all of my senses going on alert as consciousness returns. Several things hit me at once. The first and most important is Diogo's presence. I can feel him in the room with me. I'm no longer wearing my shoes or the coat but I'm still wearing his shirt. I realize by the low-voiced murmurs that someone else is in the room with us.

I'm about to fly off the bed when Diogo's face swims into my vision and his hard hands grip my shoulders, shoving me back down onto a bed. My frantic gaze leaps around the room and I realize I'm back in his bedroom.

"Let me go!" I snarl up at him.

He ignores me, shoving his chest into me, pushing me deep into the bed. He's far too big for me to argue with. He twists and says to the other person, "Get it done and get the fuck out."

"Turn her onto her front and hold her still," the other man grunts.

"What are you doing?" I shriek angrily as Diogo flips me over as easily as he would a child. Then he puts his weight on my back and legs, pinning me to the bed. With Diogo on top of me I'm unable to fight. I'm forced to suffer this indignity, whatever it is.

I can't figure out what's happening until I feel the first pinprick against my skin. Then I realize. I'm being tattooed with a new identification. He's using a needle and ink, digging the bluish black colour deep into my flesh.

"No!" I yell as he pokes me over and over, dragging the needle through and across my exposed skin. I try to twist away but Diogo shifts his hands until he's pressing my shoulders flat into the bed. I lay, my entire body tense, ready to fly the second they let go of me. I lose track of time as I'm forced to submit. I'm quivering from the sting and unrelenting tension by the time the needle is removed from my skin. Whatever he put on my back took longer than my first identification mark.

"Done," says the other guy. He stands, and I get a good look at him. Black hair and eyebrows, thick and dark, pulled down over disapproving eyes. His face is pitted with scars. He's looking at some kind of device when he says to Diogo. "She is now part of the Fuentes house."

The Fuentes house. Diogo has given me the mark of his own house, the most powerful in the city. Once I have an escape plan I'll need to run as far and fast as I can. I'll have to leave the city until my mark can be removed. I'll be too easily identified and returned to Diogo. He's given me the protection of his house but has also ensured that I can be more easily hunted.

"Fine," Diogo grunts. "Get out. Leave someone to watch the place. And Jorje?" When the man looks up, Diogo says, "Make him your best."

The man nods sharply, his eyes never straying in my direction and leaves without another word. A trained soldier.

Diogo pulls his hands from my shoulders and moves back, giving me space. I push myself away from him, curling my legs protectively underneath me. I reach over my shoulder, wincing when my fingers touch the heated spot where my new tattoo stands out against my skin. I twist around to look at it, ignoring Diogo's penetrating gaze. I can make out the top of a cage with a bird inside. Underneath is the name Fuentes. He isn't numbered like the rest of the houses, he gets to have a name. My heart pounds at the thought of being trapped by such a small thing. Then I remind myself that I can fly any time, I just need to be smart. Move out of reach and lose myself.

As though reading my mind, Diogo pinches my chin in his fingers and forces my gaze to his. "You will not leave again. I've caged you, little Wren, and I'm not letting you go." His voice is a command, but something about the words sounds so final. As though he's declaring an edict that will be followed through on at all costs.

I shiver and curl into the heavy blanket covering his bed, tugging it up my bare legs. His dark eyes follow the movement, but he doesn't comment. Instead he says, "Were you harmed while out of my custody?"

I frown at him. "You're a strange man, Diogo Fuentes. Why do you care what happens to me? I'm nothing to you."

He growls and snaps, "Answer the question, Taran. Were you hurt?"

"No," I snap back with a frown.

He nods and pushes himself off the bed. "Good. Now get some rest."

Though I want nothing more than to be alone, work through a strategy of spying on the enemy and then escaping, I feel the need to ask. "Why did you bring me back here? In fact, why did you bring me here at all? It makes no sense, Diogo. You've marked me with your house, given me your protection. Why? I'm your enemy."

"You are not my enemy," he says, frowning fiercely down at me.

I snort and roll my eyes. "Yet, we're definitely not on the same side. I offer Sanctuary to any and all that want it, flaunting your precious laws. While you" I wave my hand at him. "Force us to live in a city that's more a prison than a society. You murder innocents and turn away most refugees."

"Our definition of innocent is different, but our ultimate goals are the same."

I gape at him in disbelief. "How do you figure?"

His face softens a little as he looks me over. I tug harder on the blanket, pulling it further up my body, as if covering all the bare skin will stop the way he looks at me, as though he wants to devour me whole. He makes me feel vulnerable.

"We both want the survival of the human race."

I chew on my lips. He's right. That's exactly what I want. I guess I never saw it as basic survival. Never really looked at the Warlord's motives for the way he runs our city. He was always a distant, shadowy leader. The enemy. The man who stands between humanity and civilization. Values. But he's right. Though we fight for opposing sides, our goal is the same. Survival.

"Your method of saving the human race is wrong," I say bluntly. "You make immoral decisions that have sweeping and lasting consequences. You choose a method of survival for all of us that some of us would never choose for ourselves. Would rather die than live with."

He's staring at me thoughtfully as I speak. Then he says, "You will not be allowed to die, Taran. Despite our opposing views."

I watch him, taking in his harsh features. His physical presence exactly matches his personality. He's uncompromising, brutal, strong and hard. The opposite of me in so many ways, even if our end goal is the same.

"What do you want with me?" The question comes out more of a plea. I don't understand why I'm here. Why he's so fascinated. I should disgust him.

"You will become my consort," he tells me calmly. "You will remain at my side while I'm leader of this Sanctuary city."

My body recoils as if it has a life of its own. My brain follows shortly after, screaming silently in horror. Why would the Warlord of the New Tucson Sanctuary possibly want me as his consort? "That's ridiculous," I snap angrily. "I can't be your your consort, you don't even know me! We're the opposite in all of our thoughts."

He moves toward the bed, coming toward me, a persistent light in his eyes.

"I've known of you for years, Taran. Watched your reputation among the rebels grow. I took great interest in this woman, reported to be young and highly intelligent. I watched from the sidelines as you continued your work, bringing illegals in, negotiating for supplies and using the riots to your advantage. You've baffled my security forces over and over until I was forced to step in and run point on your capture."

"But I've been breaking the law for years! Why would you want me as your companion when I'm the opposite of everything you believe in?"

"Not all of our fundamental beliefs are opposing, Taran. Where we differ is in our ideas on the execution of those beliefs. But you are in perfect alignment with my ideals. We both fervently believe in the welfare of this city and wish to protect the citizens within. I value your enthusiasm and your driving desire to create a better world. The combination of your skills, intelligence and idealism will make you the perfect wife."

He kneels on the bed and takes my hands in his, pulling them away from the blanket.

"We'll murder each other," I say desperately and try to tug my hands from his. "It's impossible! I can't marry you." He clamps long fingers around my wrists and drags me forward until I'm falling into his lap. I shove an elbow into his chest, but he only grunts and holds me tighter.

"Stop fighting me, Taran." He pushes me backwards onto the bed and hovers over me. I'm painfully aware that the shirt I'm wearing has ridden up my thighs exposing my legs. I try to wiggle out from underneath him, but he locks my wrists together in one hand and forces them over my head. He pins my neck to the bed with his free hand.

"Why are you doing this?" I gasp. "You're insane if you think we can somehow live together. I don't agree with any of your philosophies. You run this city like a military base. You arbitrarily pass judgement and executions."

"Never arbitrary, Taran. Everything is done with a reason."

I want to believe in what he says, but his reasons for executions are indefensible. The punishment of death is too harsh for most crimes. "I hate the classes and ranks you've fostered in the city," I hiss up at him. "You play God in your tower, choosing who will live and who will die. Who will enter your precious city and who will be turned away to die in the mountains."

"I choose what's best for this city," he says, his voice perfectly even, as though he's unaffected by the emotion of the moment. If I could slap him, I would.

"You choose wrong, Diogo!" I shout at him.

Instead of responding with anger he cups my cheek and runs a thumb over the curve. "I know about your grandparents, Taran. I'm sorry."

Tears of anger fill my eyes. How dare he talk about my grandparents, like he has any right! "Fuck you!" I snarl, arching into him, trying to buck him off. It's like trying to move a boulder. "You killed them with your laws and your rules. They were turned away, defenceless to the elements and the Primitives. You're cruel and unfeeling."

His fingers tighten painfully around my wrists as he finally gives way to some of the emotion swirling between us. "I don't explain myself, girl," he says coldly. "But I will tell you this once so we don't have to discuss my stance on refugees again. It gutted me to create the laws that govern this city. I knew at the time that I was stripping away the civilization that humans built into our society hundreds of years ago. But we no longer live in a civilized world. Slowly this world is taking itself back. Humans are no longer at the top of the food chain. Only the strongest will survive while the weak die out. If we attempt to protect the weak, we'll die as well. Turning them away to a quick death is far more merciful than bringing down an entire city because resources disappear."

Tears are leaking down my cheeks and into my hair. I hear him, but I can't agree. "But what are we without civilization? What are we if we aren't fostering the things that make us human."

"We're animals," he says simply. "Fighting for our place in a dead world."

"I can't agree with that, we're better than that, more than that. Why bother surviving at all if we're nothing but disposable animals?"

"Exactly, Taran." His dark eyes hold mine as surely as he grips my hands. "You will stay with me, you'll be my companion. You'll bring my civilization back and teach me to be more again."

I gape up at him for a moment, processing what he's said. He wants me to help him find his humanity? Does that mean that there's hope for him, for our city? "I despise your laws, Diogo. Even if you force me into marriage, I'll work against you every opportunity I get."

"You won't have any choice except to obey." He says this as though there's no other option. The man doesn't know me at all if he thinks obeying is even a remote possibility. Even if we were marrying for love.

"I won't marry you." I tell him.

He chuckles, and I know why. If consent were needed, then there would be a lot fewer marriages in Sanctuary.

"You will." His voice drops and he looks down at my face, his gaze moving to my mouth. Is he going to kiss me? I suddenly feel dizzy and short of breath at the very thought.

"But I'm already married," I say as a last resort.

He growls and tightens his grip on my wrists until I cry out in pain. I open my mouth to protest but he drops his head and takes my lips with his before I get the chance. His kiss is fierce and hard, quickly over. My lips are stinging with the force of his kiss. I'm stunned. Just that morning I was a rebel on a mission, climbing the wall toward the outside world, freedom at my fingertips. Now I'm the captive of the highest Authority in the land. The soon-to-be bride of Sanctuary's Warlord.