“Maybe I should travel the globe,” she mused aloud, resuming her meditation. With her eyes closed and her face tipped back into the sun, she tried to imagine all of the wondrous places she could explore in this mortal world. “I could go wherever my whim takes me, then pick up and move on to the next adventure before I even have a chance to get bored. If I want to, I could take a new lover in every port—or two!”
Phaedra laughed beside her. “It sounds exciting.”
Sia nodded, but behind her closed eyelids she felt nothing. She might enjoy seeing new places and doing new things, but the most engaged she’d felt in a very long time was right here, working at the shelter.
And then she’d crossed paths with Trygg. He’d made her feel alive. He’d made her crave, for the first time ever, a life outside of the colony. A life with him. At his side, as his partner in more than just his missions with the Order.
But that’s not how he saw her.
He proved that last night when he’d yanked certain victory out of her hands because he didn’t trust her to see it through without his interference.
She’d wasted enough of her days—and her nights—being pushed around and underestimated by men. Perhaps it was unfair to put Trygg in that category so soon, but she’d meant it when she told him she could protect herself just fine on her own.
And right now, the smartest thing she could do was protect herself from the irreversible mistake of falling in love with him.
Which meant putting as much distance as possible between them.
She drifted deep into her own thoughts as she and Phaedra completed the rest of their morning meditation in silence. When they finished, Phaedra turned to her, considering her for a long moment.
“In case you don’t know this, Tamisia, you deserve happiness. Wherever you decide to look for it.”
Sia shook her head. “No, I probably don’t—”
“Yes, you do.” Phaedra unfastened the leather thong attached to her wrist. The small silvery orb of Atlantean crystal sparkled as she freed the bracelet and held it out to Sia. “I want you to have this.”
“No, I cannot.” She shook her head. “That crystal is yours.”
“I don’t need it anymore. I haven’t needed this for a very long time. I am exactly where I want to be.” She smiled conspiratorially. “Use it to take you on all of your exciting travels.”
“Phaedra, no. I didn’t actually mean any of that. I was only pretending I wanted to do those things.”
“Then use it to take you home,” she said, affixing the strip of warm leather to Sia’s wrist in spite of her protests. “Plead your own case to the council. If you need someone to vouch for your honor and your worthiness to be accepted back into the colony’s fold, I will testify for you. Mine is only one voice, but there was a time when it meant something in the realm. I will help you in any way I can.”
Sia glanced back down at her wrist and at the extraordinarily generous gift from her friend. “Phaedra, thank you for this. And for everything else you’ve given me since I arrived here. Thank you for being my friend.”
“The honor is mine.” With a placid smile, she rested her hand lightly on Sia’s arm. “How about some tea?”
Sia nodded, but she couldn’t find her voice. Her throat was tight and her eyes stung as she stared at the glimmering, otherworldly amulet. The magical chunk of cosmic stone would carry her anywhere her heart desired. Even back to the colony.
She only needed to have the will to use it.
Chapter 12
Savage was waiting in the corridor as Trygg came out of a closed-door meeting in Lazaro Archer’s office late that afternoon. “How’d it go in there?”
“About as good as you might expect.”
Savage grunted. “Shit. That bad, huh?”
“Five dead bodies, and one of them just happens to be an embedded JUSTIS operative who’d been working Santino’s crew for the past two months.” Trygg shook his head. “The commander should’ve handed me more than just my ass. If Lucan Thorne had his way, I’d be tossed out on it right now.”
Trygg’s own honor—thin as it was—practically demanded he resign his post with the Order and find something else to do with his time and varied skills. The fuck-up outside the club with Sia was completely his fault. He’d lost all sense of reason when he watched Crespo leave with her. Seeing the bastard pawing Sia out in the parking lot like some barfly whore had pushed him right to the edge of a red fury he couldn’t leash. But it was the scent of her spilled blood—the realization she’d been wounded—that had obliterated all of his logic and control.
He’d not only forfeited the night’s mission to track a member of Santino’s inner circle, he’d jeopardized months of work for both the Order and a covert team inside JUSTIS.
To put a cherry on top of the whole stinking pile of mistakes, he’d also lost Sia in the process.
They had gone their separate ways after the massacre at the club. She headed straight to the shelter on foot, a fact he knew only because he covertly followed her there, needing to be certain for his own peace of mind that she made it home without issue.
