Tamisia stood over the crib and stared down at the plump little form beneath the pink blanket. So precious and innocent. So tenderly mortal. Sia had never given human life more than a passing thought in all her centuries of existence. Now, nothing meant more to her than the protection of this mortal soul and the others under her care at the women’s shelter in Rome.
Reaching out, she gently touched her fingertip to the crown of gossamer curls that sprouted from the infant's head. Sia smiled. Angelina was the baby’s name, little angel, and it fit. That silken hair, the chubby pink cheeks, and sweet cherub’s mouth. Being around this kind of fragile innocence every day for the past month had been a gift, a reminder that even among the bleakest of situations, there was still hope. There was purpose, a reason to get up each morning and greet the sun, things Sia hadn’t expected to find again, least of all among mankind.
Some days, if just for a moment or two, she could almost forget the circumstances that had brought her here in the first place.
Almost.
It had been just six weeks since her staggering fall from grace and resulting banishment from the Atlantean colony that had long been her home. Not even a blink of time for one of her kind. The pain was still fresh. So was her shame.
Having real, important work to do helped.
Feeling useful was the only thing keeping her sane when everything else she was had been stripped away from her—through no one’s fault but her own.
The image of Elyon’s too-handsome face came floating into her mind, bringing with it a second, gruesome image that made her throat constrict with nausea. For as long as she lived, she would never be able to purge the memory of her friend and fellow Atlantean council member Nethilos’s murder. Nor would she ever forgive herself for the price of her ignorance when it came to placing her trust in the wrong man.
Before the swell of grief and regret became too much, she shoved away thoughts of the colony and friends she would never see again. Sia wasn’t accustomed to feeling emotional weakness, let alone giving in to it. And dammit, she wasn’t about to start now.
Her new life was here, in this crowded, often brutal city in this foreign, mortal world.
It was a penance to be sure, but seeing children like sweet Angelina resting safely, peacefully under her care smoothed some of the edge of her melancholy. Her work here mattered. And it was enough, Sia told herself.
With little hope of ever being welcomed back to the colony and her own people, this new life would have to be enough.
Removing her hand from the baby’s crib, Sia glanced across the darkened room to where the baby’s twenty-year-old mother, Rosa, slept on the narrow bed. The pair had come to the shelter two days ago, alone and scared. Fortunately for Rosa, she bore none of the bruises or broken bones that were all too common among the shelter’s other desperate arrivals, but there was no mistaking the terror in the young woman’s eyes when she came to beg safe harbor for her and her baby. She was a shy thing, barely giving eye contact to anyone since she arrived, never mind divulging the sordid details of her life or the abuser who’d sent her running to the sanctuary.
Then again, trust, once broken, was not an easy thing to give.
Sia understood that all too well herself.
She blew out a sigh and backed silently out of the room, closing the door behind her. With the rest of the shelter’s charges asleep or settling in for the night, Sia picked up a basket of towels and blankets that needed washing and carried it downstairs, the rope of her long blonde braid bouncing against the backs of her thighs with each step.
As she walked into the kitchen on her way to the laundry room, her sole coworker and the founder of the private sanctuary glanced up from a stack of papers on the table.
“You don’t need to do that, Tamisia.” Phaedra’s chestnut brows knit over pale gold eyes. “Please, let me take that for you.”
When the beautiful brunette rose from her chair to help, Sia shook her head. “It’s all right. I enjoy the work. Continue with what you’re doing.”
She didn’t miss Phaedra’s small bow of acquiescence. It was an automatic response that the other woman was still learning to curb, especially around others. No one else in the shelter knew of Sia’s unusual origins, let alone the lofty heights from which she had tumbled as one of her people’s vaunted elders.
Phaedra knew because, like Sia, she was also Atlantean, one of very few who lived among mankind instead of their own. Unlike Sia, however, Phaedra’s life outside the realm had not been forced upon her. She had fallen in love with a mortal man in Rome decades ago, then decided to remain in his world even after death had taken him from her.
And, unlike Sia, Phaedra wasn’t banished. She could go home if she wanted. All she had to do was call upon the small silvery orb of Atlantean crystal that dangled from the leather thong around her wrist and Phaedra could teleport back where she belonged. In fact, the crystal’s power could carry an Atlantean anywhere they wished; they needed only to concentrate and imagine the place in their mind.
Sia caught herself staring at her friend’s wrist, a pang of longing in her breast. Even if her own crystal hadn’t been taken away by her fellow council members at the colony, there was likely nothing she could do to redeem herself and persuade them to allow her to return.
Phaedra smiled gently, a wordless acknowledgment of Sia’s loss. Then she folded her hands in her lap as if to remove the visual reminder. “It’s been a long day. I was thinking I’d cap it off with a cup of hot cocoa and some of the cinnamon biscotti Louisa baked this morning. Would you like to join me after you put those things in the wash?”
Sia nodded. “I’d love to.”
“Great. I’ll put the kettle on.”
Things had been hectic at the shelter, but it had been a good day, even a great one. They'd welcomed three new families into the sanctuary, put a roof over seven heads, and hot food into hungry mouths. The fact that every one of the transitions had gone smoothly and there hadn't been some violent cretin banging on the door demanding to see "his woman" as the new arrivals got settled had to be some kind of record.
Now, at just after midnight, the house was blessedly quiet. No infants squalling or sounds of muffled weeping from the newcomers. Sia let the silence wrap around her like a blanket as she finished in the laundry room and returned to the kitchen.
A plate of crunchy biscotti waited in the center of the kitchen table while Phaedra carried two mugs of steaming hot chocolate over from the stove. “I can’t thank you enough for agreeing to come and help out here at the shelter, Tamisia. I don’t know how I would’ve managed without you these past weeks.”
“I’m the one who should be thanking you.” Sia took one of the mugs from her friend and gently blew at some of the steam. “I’d have gone mad already without something to keep me busy and a comfortable place to stay.”
“Comfortable?” She laughed softly. “Now you’re only being polite. The house hardly ever quiets down and that tiny attic bedroom you’re in upstairs is hardly what you’re used to.” Her gaze turned wry as she passed the plate of biscotti across the table. “Or was your brief stay with the Breed warriors of the Order so bad it makes this seem like an improvement?”
Sia scoffed at the reminder of how she’d first arrived in Rome. The terms of her exile had placed her in the care of the Breed, a blood-drinking race of beings who had long been her people’s primary, most dangerous enemy. Now the Order and the colony were dancing around a tenuous truce in order to unite against a greater enemy.
Sia wasn’t sure the partnership could ever work, let alone last. Her kind and theirs were too different, polar opposites, in fact. Atlanteans thrived on light and cherished peace. The Breed ruled the darkness and fed off bloodshed, violence in their very nature.
“Two weeks among those heathens was more than enough.” Sia dipped the edge of her biscotti into her cocoa. “Anything would be an improvement over that.”
Although to be fair, not all of the Breed were heathens. In the Order’s Rome command center, she had been treated kindly enough. In particular, by the group’s leader, Lazaro Archer, and his Breedmate, Melena. Most of the other warriors and their mates had been welcoming, too, if not a little curious about the disgraced Atlantean suddenly thrust upon them as an uninvited guest.
Only one warrior, a surly, menacing behemoth of a male named Trygg, looked at her as if she were the enemy in their midst. He’d barely uttered a word around her the entire time she was there. Not that she had wanted him to. Some of the other warriors’ mates had disclosed to her that Trygg had been an assassin for many years before he came to the Order. Not by his own will, but as part of an infamous training program created by a madman named Dragos.
Trygg certainly looked the part of a killer. Sia had been away from the command center for a month, yet the memory of his rugged, scarred face, shaved head, and cold, disapproving dark eyes still sent a wave of unease all the way into her bones.
Yes, anything was an improvement over spending another minute under the same roof with him.
Phaedra took a sip from her mug, smiling as she set it down. “Well, I’m grateful that you’re here, Tamisia. You were wonderful with the children today, especially Angelina. I think her mama likes you too.”
“Really?” Sia couldn’t hide her surprise. “How can you tell? Rosa is so meek and quiet.”
Secretive, she wanted to say, but held her observation back.
“Rosa is a shy one,” Phaedra agreed, “but that could change in time. We have no idea what she’s been through.”
“She hasn’t opened up to you either?”
Phaedra shook her head. “Not yet. But I did see her talking with one of the other mothers today, so I’m hopeful that she’ll eventually come out of her shell a bit.”
A small thump sounded above their heads. It wasn’t entirely out of place to hear movement in the house, but something about it—something about the abrupt way it went silent immediately afterward—made Sia’s veins go cold.
“Probably just someone getting up to find the bathroom,” Phaedra whispered.
“Probably,” Sia replied. She had no reason to think otherwise, but every preternatural instinct she had was screaming in alarm. When she glanced at Phaedra, she saw a flicker of the same stark awareness in her golden eyes too. “I’ll go take a look.”
“Tamisia, the house is completely locked down and secure. All of the alarms are engaged. No one can get in without the whole perimeter lighting up and tripping a dozen sirens.”
And yet someone had.
Sia was all but certain of it.
And then, upstairs, a sharp female shriek confirmed her fears. The scream sounded worse than pained. The quiet that followed lasted not even a moment, then a baby started wailing.
“Oh, no.” Phaedra went chalk white. “That’s coming from Rosa and Angelina’s room.”
Sia nodded, grim. No wonder the young mother had seemed so afraid when she arrived a couple of days ago. Her nightmare was far from over. By the awful sounds of it, the man Rosa was running from had decided she wasn’t getting away so easily.
Cold dread swept her, seeping into her marrow.
The whole house was coming awake now, vibrating with confusion and terror.
All Sia heard was the piercing wails of the innocent little baby she’d left sleeping so peacefully just a short while ago.
Dammit, no.
Hot rage replaced the chill and her vision blurred into a red haze.
“Stay here, Phaedra. Call for help.”
“Tamisia, what will you do?”
She didn’t know exactly. There was no time for a plan. She only knew she had to act.
Without answering, she raced for the stairs, pausing only long enough to issue a sharp command to her friend. “The police, Phaedra. Do it now.”
Sia was immortal, inhumanly powerful, but she wasn’t a fighter. Never had been. She was a politician, shielded by a contingent of Atlantean guards who would fight at her bidding. But none of that mattered as she flew up the steps and past the open doors and terrified faces of the shelter’s other residents.
“Back inside, all of you. Don’t come out until I tell you to.”
No one balked at her hushed orders. One by one, the frightened women and handful of small children retreated, shutting their doors.
Pausing outside Rosa’s room, Sia caught the muffled sound of a gravely male voice behind the door. “It’s gotta be here somewhere. Keep looking! Santino said no loose ends.”
Suspicion pricked at Sia’s conscience. This didn’t sound like a violent ex-lover coming back to harm Rosa. This was something else. And no less dangerous.
Sia lifted her foot high and kicked the panel so hard it blasted off the hinges.
She’d anticipated one man when she came upstairs, but inside the room were two. One was crouched inside Rosa’s closet, hastily tossing her scant belongings. The contents of her small bureau were already dumped on the floor near him.
The other intruder, a massive male dressed all in black, stood beside Rosa’s bed, his back to Sia. Rosa dangled from his grasp around her neck, her bare feet hanging several inches off the mattress. Her petite body was limp, lifeless. Her gentle brown eyes gaped open, blank and unseeing.
“No!” Sia roared, even though she realized it was already too late to save her. “Let her go!”
Grief swamped her along with her rage. She’d failed Rosa. She could not fail Angelina too. The baby’s unrelenting cries pierced the room. Sia threw a quick glance to the crib where Angelina writhed and flailed.
At least the child was unharmed. Her wails had been torture when Sia heard them from outside the room. Now they gave her strength and a deadly, furious resolve.
“I said put her down.”
Rosa’s attacker grunted, swinging his dark, shaggy head around to look at Sia.
Fiery amber eyes glowed like lit coals in his skull. His chuckle was inhuman, unearthly, his lips peeled back in a profane imitation of a smile. And within that smile, enormous fangs glinted in the darkness of the room.
Breed.
Sia swallowed as he pivoted around to face her head-on.
“Okay,” he snarled. His rough growl was the voice she’d heard on the other side of the door. “If that’s what you want, bitch, I’ll put her down.”
Barking out a coarse laugh, he threw Rosa to the floor, then kicked her out of his way as if she were nothing. His glowing eyes were wild and unfocused, his body trembling from head to toe. Something about him wasn’t right. A strange odor emanated from him, something sickly sweet that made her stomach turn.
She didn’t have time to contemplate what her instincts were trying to tell her.
He lowered his head and charged her.
Sia felt a great wave of energy rise up from the pit of her being. It exited through her raised hands in a powerful burst of light and strength. The force of it collided with the Breed male’s massive body, sending him crashing against the far wall.
“What the fuck!” The human who’d been preoccupied with Rosa’s personal belongings now scrambled to turn around in the open closet, his skinny limbs refusing to cooperate. Planted on his backside amid the contents of Rosa’s drawers and handbag, his bleary eyes bulged as he looked from Sia to the behemoth Breed male she’d just knocked cold without laying so much as a finger on him.
Power still thrummed deep within Sia, fueled by her fury.
“Wait!” The man held up one hand in surrender. “None of this is my fault! The bitch should’ve known better than to run from Santino. Should’ve known she’d get caught eventually.”
As he spoke, Sia saw him fumble with his other hand to grab something from beside him.
She didn’t realize it was a gun until he aimed it at her with trembling fingers. Without hesitation, he squeezed the trigger again and again and again.