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woman’s high forehead, while more gold glittered upon her throat, wrists, and ears. In her sandaled feet, she stood at least a head taller than Holly. The brisk fall weather seemed to have no effect on her.
    “I have to admit,” Holly conceded, “you don’t look like the usual chicken hawk.”
    “Call me Athena.” The woman’s deep voice held a trace of an exotic accent. “I run the women’s shelter across the street.” She pointed at a nondescript redbrick building on the other side of the avenue. A surprisingly classy-looking collection of tapestries and ceramics was displayed in the first-floor window. Medusa’s head, complete with serpentine tresses, was embossed upon a hanging bronze shield occupying a place of a honor within the exhibit. A freshly painted sign, mounted over the front entrance, identified the building as the Athenian Women’s Shelter.
    Holly recalled that Athena was the Greek goddess of wisdom. She was supposed to be tight with Wonder Woman these days. The graceful stranger certainly looked the part, but surely she didn’t expect Holly to believe that she was actually that Athena?
    Did she?
    “I have a feeling that you’ll find a place for yourself there.” She raised her arm and, to Holly’s amazement, a snow-white owl descended from the sky to alight upon Athena’s wrist. “If not, you don’t have to stay.”
    Although flummoxed by the unexpected appearance of the owl, Holly remained wary. She eyed her would-be benefactor suspiciously. “Really?”
    “You have my word.”
    Holly considered the offer. The sun was sinking toward the horizon and it was already starting to get darker and colder outside. Her stomach grumbled irritably; lunch had been a bag of potato chips from a vending machine back in Gotham. What can it hurt? she thought. Maybe I can get a warm meal out of this, then bail later if things get weird.
    Nodding, she followed Athena across the street. The sidewalk in front of the shelter was noticeably cleaner than the rest of the block. Stone gryphons guarded the front steps. Athena opened the door and stepped aside to let the younger woman enter. Holly kept her guard up, but wasn’t too worried. Even if this was some sort of trap, she was confident that she could take care of...
    Her jaw dropped.
    For a moment, Holly thought she’d died and gone to lesbian heaven. The doorway opened onto a spacious lobby holding dozens of lithe young women in short linen tunics.
    Of every race and ethnicity, they milled about the palatial chamber, laughing and chatting amongst themselves, seemingly without a care in the world. More women lounged on scattered chairs and sofas, snacking on olives and wine. Holly tried not to ogle the other gals too obviously, but couldn’t help noticing that they were all attractive and in excellent shape, without an ounce of flab or cellulite among them. Speechless, she wondered if she had accidentally wandered into an audition for America’s Next Top Amazon....
    The lobby’s decor matched the overpowering beauty of its inhabitants. Belying its humdrum outer fagade, the building’s interior was a masterpiece of classical Greek architecture. Pristine white columns supported the domed ceiling, which boasted shining gold filigree. Marble statues of willowy nymphs, muses, and goddesses occupied ’ arched niches and alcoves. Olive trees sprouted from decorative ceramic urns. Perfume scented the air, which was invitingly warm and toasty, and a lyre played softly in the background. Holly lifted her shades to make sure she was seeing correctly. She shook her head in disbelief. Overall, this place looked more like a five-star hotel or spa than any homeless shelter she had ever set foot in before.
    Who’s funding this joint? Bruce Wayne?
    Athena entered behind her. The owl hooted happily and soared out over the nubile throng. Curious eyes turned toward Holly.
    “Welcome home, Holly,” Athena said warmly.
    So dumbfounded was the streetwise fugitive that