Chapter 1
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.”
