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collarbone bowed toward her hips. He was going to win.
    Zoe placed her perfectly manicured hand over her wrist, her fingers curled around Angelina’s sunspot, and she smiled. Energy and power surged through Angelina. Her face and body heated as she took in Zoe’s smile.
    It wasn’t a pretty smile. It was a shark smile. And she remembered why she’d hired her.
    “Your honor,” Zoe paused delicately and then moved in for the kill.
    Angelina straightened in her chair, pushed her shoulders back and relaxed.
    Half an hour later, Gary had to pay the mortgage until she was back at work and pay for her rehabilitation back into the workforce. Candy let out a little gasp, probably upset at the loss of income. Angelina couldn’t bring herself to care. Candy and Gary glared from across the aisle. If Candy’s glare were a dagger, Angelina would be dead on the floor, knife between her eyes.
    Angelina ignored them, and shook Zoe’s hand. Huh, the lights in here must be really flattering. Zoe’s hair seemed a bit shinier, her skin a little more luminous. “How’s your headache?”
    Zoe smiled, her face sparkling with pleasure. “Hey, it’s gone. Must be the thrill of victory.”
    Angelina smiled back, but the tension from the negotiations had started a throb right between her eyebrows where she’d imagined Candy’s blade and made worse by Candy’s now strident complaints.
    Too bad Ms. Fake Boobs couldn’t get a quick case of food poisoning. Angelina let her imagination run wild, and envisioned Candy as she puked on Gary’s Cole Haans, her abs heaving, those fake breasts not moving, and her face contorted in pain. He hated vomit and had always managed to be somewhere else whenever their kids had the stomach flu.
    She let the little fantasy go. She had to focus on her reality. Her headache increased when she realized she still needed to talk to Gary about the pot in Brandt’s bag. She really didn’t want an audience for that one. “I need to talk to you.”
    Gary opened his mouth. She shot a quick glance at the woman who’d been the catalyst for today. Of course that wasn’t really fair. It took two. “In private.”
    “She can hear whatever you have to say,” Gary said defensively.
    Angelina really didn’t want to have Candy listen. But suddenly Candy pressed a hand to her stomach. “Ex-excuse me.” She shoved out of the chair and ran for the courtroom doors but Gary’s lawyer was in the way. Suddenly she bent over and spewed all over Craig’s shoes.
    Huh, sometimes the Universe did listen.

SEVEN
    Rafe was in trouble.
    He’d managed to keep his hands, if not his cock, mostly to himself as he’d transferred more power to Angelina. But he still hadn’t explained her abilities to her.
    He had to soon.
    She had healed her lawyer without even knowing what she’d done. He’d felt her lift the lawyer’s headache, which fortunately wasn’t too bad. If she healed someone accidentally and they were mortally ill, she could end up dead.
    He had to talk to her. Explain her responsibilities. Explain to her how to heal. Except every time they were together, he ended up touching instead of teaching. This last time, he had finally spoken to her but that hadn’t gone well.
    Michael, the head Archangel and Rafe’s leader, walked into the workout room where Rafe tried unsuccessfully to eradicate some of the demons that dogged him by benching four hundred pounds. Rafe planted his feet on the floor, braced for the weight, and then heaved the barbell toward the ceiling.
    His best friend Uri was on the treadmill, pounding through miles while Linkin Park blasted from his iPod so loudly that Rafe could hear the music across the room. Uri had been dogging him the last few days. He knew something was wrong and he wanted Rafe to spill.
    “How’s the promotion?” Michael asked. He was a legend, even among the Seven. His fierce protector spirit was encased in six feet seven inches of pure muscle and badass.
    Being an Archangel