Warrior's Angel (The Lost Angels Book 4) by Heather Killough-Walden Page A

Rhiannon Dante that damn well recognized Michael for her other half.
    She knew he was the one.
    He just needed to remind her.
    *****
    “They’re pennies,” she said numbly into the phone.
    “Pennies?”
    “Yes, I swear. Each one has Lincoln on the front and his memorial on the back. Mr. Verdigri, these are pennies, and they’ve all been turned into pure gold.”
    “You’re positive they weren’t just spray painted or something similar?”
    Rhiannon shook her head even though her employer couldn’t see the gesture. She’d done the old trick with the teeth to see whether one of them would bend, and it had. Besides. She was a woman. She knew real gold when she saw it.
    “I’m positive.”
    There was a long pause on the phone before her employer finally asked, “Well… what creatures that you’ve come across have the ability to turn objects into gold?”
    “ Alchemy? None, honestly. I’ve been running this around in my head since I walked into the room.” She’d come up against creatures who could melt or cool objects, but never any that could change the molecular composition of an item. This was new to her.
    “But that’s not the strangest thing,” she said. Or the scariest. She bent and lifted the black velvet mask from where she’d set it on the bed earlier and turned it over in her hands. Whoever had done this had actually had her in his arms that night. He’d appeared out of nowhere, seduced and teased her, moved her to the music as if he’d been dancing centuries, and then disappeared into the shadows.
    But not before he’d kissed her throat….
    Rhiannon flushed hot, her skin prickling with the blood of an oncoming fever. She touched her forehead and took a shaky breath, closing her eyes in an attempt to center her thoughts.
    The feel of the satin mask against the skin of her fingertips and across the back of her hand felt sensual, forbidden somehow. It reminded her of the touch of his lips.
    “Oh?” Verdigri replied , jolting her back to the moment. Her eyes flew open.
    “ Uh,” she said, clearing her throat and blinking rapidly. “No,” she continued, “It’s not.”
    The strangest thing , she thought , is that whoever did this knows me and I have no idea who he is or why he would do this for us. There was enough gold there to pay for any assignment she would ever need to go on for the rest of her life, at the very least for the rest of her employment with Verdigri. Her employer’s future financial situation was hereby secured. He would never have to do any fundraising ever again.
    It was as if the stranger in black had known that this was exactly what she’d been wishing for. This was one of her weaknesses.
    Two down.
    Now she understood. He’d known about her desire to end suffering when and where she saw fit. He’d known about her desire to do the right thing without financial constraints, and that she’d wanted Verdigri to be able to do the same thing. And with this much money on their side, they probably wouldn’t even have to worry about legal constraints either. Because everyone had a price.
    Apparently, even her .
    Rhiannon looked over at the chest, which would weigh more than anyone could lift filled with gold as it was. She thought of the man in the mask and the powers he must have possessed, not only to create it, but to get it into her room past security and her locks. To that end, how had he known where she was staying? He’d known her name, and that had been strange enough. This was so much more.
    She swallowed hard. “I think you need to send some men over as soon as possible,” she told her boss, thinking mostly of the gold and how they were going to deal with it.
    “ It’s already been done, Rhiannon,” Verdigri told her. His tone spoke of concern, and she realized that he could tell she was a little freaked out. “And I will be there in ten.”

Chapter Seven
    “If you don’t mind my confirming sir, we will bide our time now, am I correct?” John Smith