Sanctum Angels:
Shadow Havens Book 1
Edenmary Black
Copyright © 2011 Pamela J. Rittiger
All rights reserved.
Published in eBook format by eBookIt.com
ISBN-13: 978-1-4566-0649-7
This novel is a work of fiction. All characters, dialogue, locations, events, organizations, technologies and businesses contained in the following work are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any real person, living or dead, real location, real event, real organization, real technology or real business is purely coincidental.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be given away or re-sold to others, except at the sole discretion of the author or copyright holder. Thank you in advance for respecting the work of the author.
Cover design by Robin Ludwig Design, Inc. To view a portfolio, visit http://coversbyrobin.deviantart.com.
Cover images:
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© Yaroslav Pavlov / Dreamstime.com
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Dedication:
Many thanks Z., for always asking what I’m working on. And for your total honesty.
Thanks, B., for all the IT support. I know…I know…I’m you’re worst user.
S., you are the best friend and the best reader. Your suggestions and encouragement are invaluable.
And, a special shout out to everyone at the PSWG. Thanks for laughing with me at things only writers understand.
Sanctum Angels:
Shadow Havens Book 1
Warning: The following work contains descriptive material and scenes of explicit sexual encounters between consenting male and female adults. It is intended for adult readers only.
When Priana Grey walks into a bank, she isn’t expecting to be taken hostage by a violent thief; nor, is she expecting Detective Joe Cafaris to offer his life for hers. The stepdaughter of fallen angels of the Sanctum, she has concealed her true nature to move among humans for years, but Joe’s courage astounds her. Although she knows that falling in love with a human is a disaster, she just can’t ignore what she feels.
Joe is a tough loner, cool in the most dangerous situations, but he’s not ready for the scorching desire he feels for Priana. He has a million logical reasons to walk away, but his heart wants something else.
Priana’s stepbrother, Keirc, warns that she’ll find only misery with Joe, yet he guards a perilous secret of his own. His lover, Iridea, is the daughter of Sebastien Galaurus, a ruthless vampire who leads the Demesne, a powerful supernatural haven quite unlike the Sanctum.
When a stunning crisis forces Priana into the heart of the Demesne, a maelstrom explodes in the shadow of supernatural havens on the brink of war, where fallen angels, vampires, weres and daemons call the shots and humans are viewed as critically frail - a place where men and supernaturals can die.
Approximately 83,000 words.
Coming soon!
Sanctum Warriors
Shadow Havens Book 2
Don’t miss the excerpt from Chapter One at the conclusion of this novel.
Prologue
Ilea Galaurus pulled her skirts up, tucking her legs into the overstuffed brocade chair. Dragging it closer to the carved bed had been a struggle, but she’d been watching her son in the candlelit bedroom for hours, needing to be close. His pale features and occasional soft whimpers frightened her, demanding her vigilance, yet she was unable to do anything to help him.
Saan shivered despite the thick, ebony duvet covering his limbs. He rubbed his inflamed eyelids but remained unconscious. Although he’d only fallen ill three days ago, the fever had struck him like a hurricane. It seemed like something that could fell a human even though there was no possibility that Saan, the child of a daemon and a pureblood vampire, could be infected by any of the diseases a human would carry. The young male had grown hot and delirious, despite the efforts of the best daemon healers of the Demesne, who hadn’t seen anything like this illness. Although used to healing injuries, large and small, they’d never met fever. One had heard of an illness like this that could take a supernatural quickly, but nothing was known of a cure.
The daemon healers had looked to the Internet for answers but found few. Three deaths had been reported in Europe from an illness that could be the same. None of the stricken supernaturals had survived. Calls had crossed the Atlantic, from southwestern Pennsylvania to the capitals of Europe. Promises to share any information were exchanged, but time was trickling through an hourglass in Ilea’s heart. She knew her son might never regain consciousness. Death could take him this very night. The thought propelled her to his bedside for perhaps the hundredth time. Leaning over, moving the voluminous amber skirts of her long gown, she whispered his name and ran a fingertip across his blond eyebrows. Even so ill, he was handsome.
Perhaps you should lie down with him, my lady,” the only healer left in the bedroom suggested from behind her. “It might still his shivering.”
Ilea whirled on the young female. “Get out,” she said, but her words lacked fury. Instantly, she regretted the dismissal. The daemon healers had done as much as they were able. “Forgive me. Your name is Lily?”
The healer nodded shyly.
“Saan is….my only son and …”
…he’s dying in front of me…
“I understand, my lady,” the daemon healer named Lily replied. “I will go now. One of my sisters will return later.” After bobbing her head of light curls, she left quietly.
“Thank you,” Ilea said, turning back to Saan, searching his face for any sign of improvement. She sat on the bed’s edge to take his face in her hands. Just for a moment, Ilea saw the pupils of his beautiful, dark eyes. The whites had gone crimson, as if he were bleeding from some injury behind the bones of his face. His pale skin was hot and moist to her palms. Carefully, she dropped her hands and found to her shock that tiny bruises had formed on his pale cheeks exactly where her fingertips had been, leaving discolorations from the lightest touch.
Pulling the duvet gently back from Saan’s pallid chest, Ilea found bruises. Tiny smears of blood had formed over some. “Dear God,” she breathed. Looking at her own hands, she saw blood on her fingertips. Wiping them against her skirts, she flew to the door. Two huge vampiric warriors stood guard on either side of the doorway, a measure that Saan’s father, Sebastien Galaurus, the Demesne’s leader, had commanded. No one but Ilea, the healers and Saan’s sister, Iridea, would be permitted to cross the threshold. “Where is my Mate?” Ilea demanded.
“In his study, my lady,” the vampire answered instantly.
Ilea picked up the skirting of her gown and rushed through the richly carpeted halls of the elaborate underground Demesne haven she’d shared with her Mate for centuries. By the time she reached Sebastien’s study, her flaming hair had come undone from its tight chignon and her face had grown hot. Saan was