Niamh smiled. “You shouldn’t worry about that. Anything can be cleaned. Come. Be at ease and settle in. We can organise drinks in a few minutes. Right now, though, tell me about yourselves.”

  Peter dragged Phillipa to a two-seater and pulled her down. “My sister and I… We’ve left home. We’ve never…”

  Phillipa bit her lip and wondered how Peter would describe their situation.

  “Never left home, I see. Were you prisoners?” the blonde queried.

  “Yes, I guess.” He answered slowly. “Our mother married a man who made us look after everything. We were the staff.”

  “Hmm. Julian says he found out about you from one of our weres. He saw you at a property outside of town. Said he saw you working in the sun without a break for hours.”

  Peter shrugged. “It’s what I did.”

  “Were you paid?” The woman scooted forward on her seat.

  “No.”

  “Phillipa? What about your circumstances? Were you also expected to work?”

  “I kept the house, cooked, and cleaned. Mended and dealt with the laundry,” her voice escaped on a quivery whisper.

  “I see. Julian said he was concerned you were being forced to labour for free. It seems that was the case. When he offered Peter assistance, he seemed pleased and excited.” She read the words from the clipboard of paper she’d picked up off the table. “But I have to ask, and I need you to be clear—do you want help?”

  Peter nodded while Phillipa kept herself stiff; the instinct for survival was well-honed after her years of servitude.

  “Phillipa? I can’t assist if you don’t clearly answer. Our situation helping the paranormals is precarious.” Niamh nodded. “I need you to acknowledge it.”

  Opening her mouth, she croaked, “I need help. I want to break free, but without help, Roger will…” She gulped.

  Niamh frowned. “Is there…?” Then she shook her head. “We can discuss that later. I need both of you to sign this document.” She flipped through several pages until she found the one she was looking for, and extended it to Peter. “This basically says we’ve spoken, and you’ve asked for our help. It means we’ve been through all the initial steps and are offering you a safe place, access to medical care, and placement services for work and study.”

  Peter took the pen. Phillipa knew he could barely scribble his name, something that he found embarrassing, but her brain switched onto the fact that they both had to sign it.

  He scrawled slowly and handed it to her. She’d received slightly more education, so was able to understand the wording on the document. Care and assistance offered by the United Were Pack. Both their names and what she assumed to be today’s date. Not that she really knew.

  Signing her name felt momentous. Like something about her and her life was about to undergo a massive change.

  Niamh retrieved the folder and pen and rose. “I’ll go place these with our records team, then we can make plans. Find out what you need and the best placement for the two of you.” She smiled. “Grab a drink and a snack if you’d like. I’ll only be a few minutes.”

  Maxim cradled the cup in his hands. Niamh had been a good friend. One he could count on, and he valued her greatly. He could also understand her raising the prospect of the job with Ellen. For nearly two years he’d watched Niamh grow and flourish—or at least, since she’d met Simon. And, most importantly, she’d respected his need for privacy.

  He sipped the hot beverage and watched as the sun set over the city. What had Ellen said? I see you smile and interact. It’s like you change.

  “I want that. I want to be happy. I’ve paid for my mistakes for years. Surely a second chance is acceptable?”

  But in that minute, like a worn-out recording, he heard the words in his brain. The words Mischa’s father had spoken. Mischa doesn’t have the luxury of a second chance.

  The pain he felt skewered him. Twisted and turned in his gut. Mischa. He’d loved her. She’d loved him. The only mistake they’d made was thinking they could be together. That they could outrun destiny. “Mischa, I wish you were here, moye serdtse.”

  In that second, he knew he couldn’t stay here, stagnant and stewing in his pain. It was time. He needed more, and if Niamh was sure, he’d take that chance. He’d paid for his sins long enough.

  The cell phone in his hand reminded him he needed to call Niamh and tell her his decision.

  Sliding a finger over the screen, he opened his contacts file and chose Niamh’s listing.

  “Maxim? What’s wrong?” she answered.

  “Niamh, Ellen told me of a job. One she said you suggested I think about?” He gripped the metal unit hard, keeping it against his ear.

  “I’m so pleased you called. It’s my job, or my old one, and I already spoke with Dr Arnett and suggested she look at your resume if you send it through.”

  His breath hissed out of his lungs. “You’re sure?”

  “Oh yes. And Maxim? Simon has a house on the edge of the woods. It’s not big, but you’ll be comfortable. But only if you want to. I don’t want to push you.”

  Heat stung his eyes. This lovely woman, his friend, had done so much for him. “Zaichik, I cannot thank you enough. What is needed?” He knew his voice roughened and his accent, the Russian guttural tones, seeped into his words.

  “Send your resume to my email address. I’ll pass it on, but as soon as you’re ready, you can move in. All I need to do is plan for a pickup to be available and lock in a time with Simon.”

  He looked around the tiny, single-room apartment he’d taken on arrival. He had so little that he could pack swiftly. “When is too soon?”

  She laughed. “We could move you tomorrow, if you wanted. If you need a car—I know yours isn’t very safe or reliable—there’s one I can have made available. At least, until you’re able to buy something better.”

  He was officially on vacation… Tomorrow. He could resign his job and not be missed, or at least not by many. Ellen may wish he didn’t but… “Tomorrow? What time?”

  “Ten o’clock if you’re able.”

  He harrumphed. “I’ll be ready.”

  Niamh smiled. “We pick Maxim up tomorrow at ten. If you’re free.”

  Simon grinned. “If that’s going to make you happy, I’ll make it happen. Has he much in the way of belongings?”

  Niamh shook her head. “No, he hasn’t much. I’ve only been to his apartment once, and he had less than I. He’s been so insular for so long, but I hope that now he’ll have time to heal from what dogs him. He feels deeply, and some woman will be very lucky when he commits himself to her.”

  Simon dragged her close and she snuggled in, knowing that tonight she’d share her secret. The one which she suspected lay, even now, beneath her heart. Growing. Tonight, she’d tell him and use the small box that she’d hidden.

  Chapter Two

  Phillipa waited quietly as the men carried furniture into the tiny house. It was clear none of it was new, but it was clean and in good condition. Peter was assisting with the movement from the truck while Niamh hovered to the side. “Make sure that fridge is cleaned and ready to go. I need to take Peter and Phillipa out to buy food, and I want it ready for when they get home.”

  Boxes of household goods were already inside. Phillipa couldn’t believe the kindness being shown to them and half-expected something to happen. She also wondered what her mother and Roger thought had happened to them. Were they looking for them? She turned and looked over her shoulder, her stomach knotting.

  “It’s okay. Roger and your mother don’t know where you are. You’re safe here.”

  Niamh’s quiet words settled her concerns for now, but she wasn’t sure that long-term they’d be okay. Roger wasn’t… She cut the thoughts off. Don’t think it, Pip. Thoughts are dangerous.

  “Umm… Peter and I don’t have clothes or…” she whispered, hating the necessity to ask for more.

  “I already have a plan. When we go grocery shopping, I plan to also take you to find a wardrobe,” Niamh soothed.

  “But we don’t have any money.” Embarrassment coursed through her.

  “Don’t worry too much. We have been donated funds, but if you want to donate once you get on your feet, you can pay it back that way.”

  Phillipa stared at Niamh. “But…”

  “Look,” Niamh said, “we’re here to help. The were pack is very financially stable. We also receive funds from other paranormal entities, including the vampire nests and covens of witches.”

  “But why do they want to help?”

  Niamh shook her head. “Paranormals haven’t really been supported by the government. In truth, mostly because admitting to our existence was all too difficult, and while they were hidden from humans, the governments felt there was no responsibility. The paranormals got used to helping their own. Simon has been handling this zone for the last fifty years, Phillipa. The process is well-honed.”

  Phillipa opened her mouth then closed it again. She didn’t want to annoy Niamh. If you keep annoying her, she’ll rescind the help, then where will you and Peter be? The fear congealed in her stomach.

  “The house next door to this one is also being furnished today. There’s a person moving in there tomorrow, and he doesn’t have a lot of furniture. He’s a good person. I know him well.”

  Phillipa wasn’t unaware when the hint was being given to stop asking questions, and instead nodded. “Is there some way I can help him?”

  Niamh cocked her head. “I don’t think he’s a particularly good cook. If you can help him out, he’d probably appreciate it. I’m hoping he’ll be working full-time soon.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Maxim. He’s really lovely,” Niamh said, then frowned, “but a very private person.”

  Phillipa heard the hesitation and swallowed her next question. Roger always told her she was too nosy and that would get her in trouble. Seemed even in the wide world that was true.

  Sliding her hands in her pocket, Phillipa hunched her shoulders and watched as the last items were delivered to the house, then a smaller delivery made to the house next door. When Niamh handed her the keys with a smile, Phillipa simply smiled, hoping that was enough, and with a nod she retreated inside, needing a moment alone.

  Peter hovered inside the doorway. “Well?” he said.

  “It’s very kind of them…”

  He nodded. “Yeah. Now come on, Niamh is taking us shopping for clothes and food. She’s also setting up medical appointments, meetings with educational consultants, and⁠—”

  “Hang on…” She shook her head. “They’ve already done a lot for us.”

  Peter stared. “You do know we don’t have to give back. But in all honesty, Pip, this is our best and probably only opportunity, and I’m not passing it up. Roger stopped us from doing so many things. I want a life, Pip. A family one day too.” He swallowed, and she understood his fears.

  Neither of them understood how a family worked. They’d only really had each other, but if he married, someday she’d be on her own. That was a thought she struggled with. She needed more if that were to happen. Something of her own to support her and fill her soul.

  “We should hurry up then. Uh, Niamh gave me these.” She pushed the keys into her brother’s hand. “You look after them.”

  “It looks like there’s a couple of sets. You’ll need your own too.”

  Maxim was ready for Niamh and Simon when they turned up at ten in the morning. He’d spent the night going through his personal items, deciding what he’d take, and finally settled on enough to fill three boxes, the contents of cupboards and fridge, and his suitcases. The car he’d owned he gave to his neighbour. It was unreliable but the man had eyed it for as long as Maxim had lived there, offering to buy it for parts.

  “You’re ready?” Simon quirked a brow.

  “Indeed.” The sooner he started his new life, the sooner he had a hope of making something more. This was his chance, and he wasn’t a fool, irrespective of what Mischa’s father might believe.

  “Then we should get everything into the truck and head out,” Simon urged.

  Maxim nodded, then turned to grab the nearest item. It didn’t surprise him when Simon gave Niamh only the lightest of items to carry. She was still recovering from her abduction and the barbaric injuries she’d sustained, including the loss of her wings, and Simon hovered, treating her like a china doll. Maxim had once been in that position with Mischa… He grunted and mentally thrust the memory away. His concern was to gather his things and be done with this chapter of his life, and the myriad regrets.

  Once his items were loaded up, Maxim excused himself long enough to return his keys to the superintendent of his building.

  “So, that’s time, huh Maxim?” The man nodded. “Good to see you leaving with friends.” He shook Maxim’s hand. “Good luck.”

  “I… Thank you,” he answered gruffly, realising just how little he knew about not just this man, but the others who’d lived in the same building as him for so many years. It filled him with shame, realising he’d had opportunities which he’d squandered.

  Once he was settled in the vehicle with Niamh and Simon, he dragged on the seatbelt and listened only vaguely to the discussions going on. The trip to his new home took nearly an hour, during which time he considered what he needed to change, how he’d make an effort to meet with others and make friends.

  It wouldn’t be easy. He’d spent the last ten years in a form of lonely exile, knowing that he could never return to his home country. Mischa’s father had ensured that would be the case; his bitterness and subsequent hatred toward Maxim were, in his mind, insurmountable.

  “Maxim? Did you hear?” Niamh’s words surprised him.

  He shook his head and realised that, once again, lost in himself and his ruminations, he’d missed the discussions going on. “No. I didn’t. I apologise.”

  “Niamh was saying she’s arranged for you to have a small house at the edge of our village. We finalised the furnishings yesterday and feel you should be comfortable. It’s also close to a woodland, so if you wish to make use of these areas, you’ll be unbothered by non-paras,” Simon explained as they entered the township, slowed, and made a left-hand turn.

  “Thank you for your attention to my needs.” It humbled him immensely that they’d consider these needs, things he’d taken pains to ignore over the last decade as best he could.

  “You’re next door to some other new tenants—Pete and Pippa. They moved in yesterday,” Niamh explained. “The house on the other side of yours is currently empty, but we are only looking to bring a few assistees into the area⁠—”

  “Niamh,” Simon interrupted. “We are attempting to help paras get on their feet, Maxim. Pete and Pip, however, are a special case.”

  Silence stretched in the vehicle. Special case. Maxim wondered what he meant.

  “There will be our were patrols going past your house,” Niamh spoke quietly. “The situation…”

  “Is special,” Simon repeated, and Maxim wondered once again, why.

  They pulled up outside a small wooden house. A tiny garden and a path of rocks led to the front door.

  “There’s three bedrooms. It’s really a small family house, but we hope you’ll be happy here,” Niamh spoke, then pointed to the house on the corner. “That one is empty, and the other is where Pete and Pippa live. You’ll likely see me there a bit. With the change of my job, I’ll be working with them, coming and going…” She shrugged, and Maxim waited, sure there was more to be said, but the silence stretched out.

  “The house?” he prompted, thinking it was time to focus on what he needed to know.

  “Is yours for as long as you need it,” Simon said. “Until you get on your feet, there’s no rent. Once things settle for you, we can negotiate what is comfortable. The pack wants to assist everyone onto their feet, Maxim. We may request, if you live here long-term, that you might accept someone else in the house, however, we would be aware of your needs and only place a like para in with you. And only if you agree.”

  Maxim considered Simon’s words. ”Of course,” he answered. He hoped that he’d find a position and be able to move into his own home within a reasonable timeframe.

  He exited the vehicle and waited for Niamh and Simon to join him. They entered the yard, and the scent of flowers filled him, centred him. There was an immediate sense of well-being, and he wondered if they were newly planted, though looking to the ground told him that was unlikely since the ground didn’t appear to be newly tilled. He made his way to the three steps and climbed them.

  Niamh pressed a set of keys into his hands. “These are yours,” she said, and he took them, slid one into the lock and turned the knob. The door opened silently, and he stepped inside.

  The room inside was woody. Dark polished boards on the floor with a rag rug, a brown leather sofa, the scent of it filling him up. The walls were adorned with paintings of woodlands. Stepping within, he noted the functional kitchen of grey and white. A small table and four chairs. It was all very simple but comfortable.

  He turned to take Niamh’s hand. “I’m…” He cleared his throat of the sudden obstruction. “I’m grateful.”

  She squeezed his hand. “You deserve it, Maxim. When I needed someone, you were there. You’re a good man and a good friend. You deserve so much more than living in a box and a job you despise.”

  His heart lurched. He’d never told her or Ellen how much he hated his job. He’d never said that pushing trolleys with the deceased was soul-destroying; he’d simply gone about doing his job as best he could. He never told them that cleaning up the bodily fluids of those who’d come in, damaged from accidents and other darker attacks on humanity, had chipped away at his self-esteem.

  “I never…” Maxim shook his head.

  “I know. I could tell. Each week you grew quieter. You withdrew a little more. I saw it, and I understood.” Tears shone in her eyes. “That’s why you were a candidate for this assistance. I want you to have the opportunity to find what I have. Now, a car will be delivered here later today, and you have an interview in a few days at the clinic. I’ll send the details to your phone.”