Golden Guardian: Holy Shields Angel Romance

By Strawberry Chase

Angels aren't as pure as we think they are.
I have everything going for me in life, everything is in order, except for my brother whose gambling habit is getting out of control. Imagine my surprise when he's arrested, and the Las Vegas cop who picked him up is none other than the handsome golden boy, Officer Christopher Dominion, whom I've met before.

But now that my brother and his associations with a criminal underground is affecting me, I need Christopher's help.
And more. I want all of him. What is it about this cop that drives me crazy?

Oh, because he's more than just a police officer. He's an Angel in disguise. The pragmatic part of my brain can't accept that. My body, on the other hand . . .

What will happen to my brother, to me, to him, when the time comes to bring this criminal gambling enterprise to the ground? What will he sacrifice for a measly human like myself?

If you love soulmates, damsels in distress, family drama, guardian angel style romance, then try Golden Guardian, book 2 in the Holy Shields Angel romance series today!
See Strawberry Chase's social media pages for themes, tropes, and CWs.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Michelle Deerwester-Dalrymple
• Release date: Sep 10, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223260844

Book preview

Golden

Guardian

Holy Shields Angel Romance

Book Two

Strawberry Chase

COPYRIGHT 2021 STRAWBERRY Chase/Michelle Deerwester-Dalrymple

Photo from DepositPhotos

Cover by hi_logo_

All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, distribution, or electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the author constitutes unlawful piracy of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use the material from this book, other than for review purposes, prior authorization from the author must be obtained. Copies of this text can be made for personal use only.  No mass distribution of copies of this text is permitted. 

This book is a work of fiction. Names, dates, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination or used factiously. Any similarity or resemblance to any person living or dead, place, or event is purely coincidental.

Thank you for trying the second in the Holy Shields Angel Romance series, a twist on the idea of angels and police romances.

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Strawberry Chase Universe of Romance: https://view.flodesk.com/pages/60bd45827308c6d7fd0bf085

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Excerpt from Shadow Guardian

A Thank You to My Readers

About the Author

Also by Strawberry Chase:

Chapter One

GET DR. JENSEN IN HERE stat! Zoey shouted at the other ER nurse.

New nurses were the worst until they got some Emergency Room hours under their belt. Then, Zoey firmly believed, an ER nurse was your best friend in any emergency situation.

Do I just page him? the short brunette with shocked eyes asked.

Oh, you poor thing, Zoey thought as she surveyed the new nurse. The shocked expression was not surprising. It was pretty much the usual expression all new ER nurses wore until the novelty and surprises involved with the job wore off.

The phone is right behind you, Zoey pointed with her chin at the cream-colored phone on the wall. Dial 7, then page him to ER triage 4. Stat!

She would have done it herself, but her gloved hands were covered in blood where she was holding her palm over the stab wound in the poor fellow’s side. She had to give him credit. He was whining but not screaming or fighting her. Most stabbing victims hated anyone touching the wound. Not that Zoey blamed them.

Dr. Jensen, a short, black-haired woman with a smart hair-do and even smarter eyes, surveyed the curtained triage as she entered, the rubber snapping of her gloves lost under the forceful tone of her voice.

What do we have, Nurse Conner? Dr. Jensen asked, all business.

Stab wound to the lower left side, excessive bleeding. He says the knife slipped. Zoey moved her hand so the good doctor could survey the jagged gash in the man’s skin.

Well, the knife must have slipped forward with force. You did a fair bit of damage, Mr. – ?

Deni, Zoey answered for her.

Mr. Deni. Let’s take a peek and see if any organs have been injured. Nurse Reyes, switch with Zoey. You can take it from here. Triage needs you more than I do right now, Conner. Mr. Deni will probably be fine.

What? the patient hollered. The pain must be getting to him, Zoey thought.

You’ll be fine! Dr. Jensen hollered back over the rising din of the ER. She flapped a hand at Zoey. Go, more are pouring in. Typical Wednesday night.

CHRISTOPHER DOMINION cursed as he gave chase to the pothead who zig-zagged between the cars and toward the towering Wynn resort. Why did he have to run along the Strip? If he cut through the back streets or alleys, then Christopher could extend his wings and catch him in two flaps.

But no, he had to run along the Strip, in full view of the partiers until Christopher caught him on foot.

When Christopher had joined the Rift Angels, agreeing to be sent to earth through Rift between Heaven and Earth with only limited contact to Heaven and save what was left of the Heavenly Father’s pride and joy — his humans — he’d expected challenges, but nothing like this.

What had Michael been thinking? Christopher was a general, accustomed to fighting mighty wars, a soldier in scarred, golden armor. This subversive recon shit was for the birds. And when God found out (like the Father didn’t already know, Christopher chided himself. He was sure God did), He’d be pissed for sure. How did Michael get away with his Rift Angels? That was a good question. God despised it when Angels meddled with his humans. Maybe that was the very reason Michael had kept the project quiet and the reason why Rift Angels were required to live as humans as best they could – limited powers, forgiveness for sins, and working as cops. Michael could pawn it off as minimal intervention if, or rather when, God ever called him on it.

Policing made cleaning up the streets more plausible. How would a cashier or poker player explain why he was trying to fight crime and sins and even demons if necessary?

Posing as an integral part of the Las Vegas Police Department just made sense. And where else to start the clean-up process than Sin City itself?

If only he could use his wings. This guy was way too fast for a pothead.

Then, as if the hand of God heard him, the runner tripped over his own feet and took a header down the steps. Christopher was on him in a second. This guy was not getting away. This running shift was for the birds, he thought again.

The guy tried to wrestle away from Christopher, who snapped on and double locked the cuffs. Not getting away.

But his chest fell when he looked at the mangy guy.

Blood dripped in splotches from his forehead and nose. Not much, but facial injuries bled horribly, and this guy looked a lot worse for wear.

I need a doctor! he shouted. Christopher let out a long sigh. He’d need to get a medical release from the ER before he could book the guy into jail.

Doctor! the man piped up again.

Yeah, yeah. I heard you. North Central Hospital is right up the street.

The guy wiggled and fought as Christopher led him back down the Strip to his car, crying for a doctor the whole way.

What a crappy start to his night.

ZOEY HAD NO DOUBT THAT Dr. Jensen’s Wednesday night observation was sound. Wednesday night in Las Vegas was wilder than most cities’ Saturday nights, with shows and bars kicking the weekend off hard, and tourists skipping work and starting their vacations early in Sin City. Wednesday over-the-hump nights were pretty much a madhouse.

The ER was crazy most nights, but Zoey wouldn’t change it for the world. Who wanted to work in a sleepy ER? Here she felt like she was really doing some good. Just the week before, they’d saved a kid who’d had an allergic reaction to nuts, and the week before, a gunshot victim. Violent interaction-wounds were fairly common, and every night, Zoey went home to her apartment, fatigued beyond measure after her ten-hour shift, but satisfied with herself.

She walked to the Triage desk, and just as she was reaching for the clipboard to see who was up next, a familiar, booming voice carried to her ears and made her arms pimple with goose bumps.

Nurse Conner, can you help me over here?

Damn, I look like a bloody mess, she thought as she whirled around, wishing she’d at least had time to tuck the loose strands of caramel blonde hair behind her ears when she’d washed her hands.

Because the man who stood before her deserved nothing less. She’d seen a movie once, where the main character was Thor, the god of Thunder, and this man put that movie star to shame. If anyone was built to play Thor, it was Officer Christopher Dominion. Clad in a tight-fitting khaki uniform, his light blonde hair was left a bit long on top. His blue eyes reminded her of a trip she’d taken to the Caribbean and the spot in the ocean where the deep water kissed the shallow, and roped muscles peeked out from under his uniform sleeves. Her sister had called that look ripped, but Zoey wasn’t sure if that was the right word. He didn’t look over-worked or steroid-ed out. He looked, well . . .

Perfect.

Nurse Conner? he asked again, his light blond eyebrows crinkled at her. He gripped the shoulders of another man next to him, whose arms were apparently handcuffed.

Officer Dominion. What brings you to my ER tonight?

He tipped his head to the down-trodden man next to him. Like most of the people Christopher brought into the ER, this dirty-haired man did not look pleased to be there.

I need an okay to book this guy. He ran, took a header off the steps right outside the Wynn hotel. We cuffed him, but when I stood him up, there was this.

Officer Dominion lifted the man’s face with a finger. The giant scrape over his forehead and nose made Zoey crinkle her nose.

It doesn’t look that bad, she said as she leaned in. The man reeked of reefer and dirt. Even if the wound wasn’t bad, infection was a concern.

No, but he was complaining and demanded to be seen. I need him checked out so I can get a medical release, take him back to the station, and book him into jail.

Zoey nodded and waved her hand to Triage 6. Let’s put him there. I’ll clean him up, get a doctor to do a quick assessment, and get you out of here.

I don’t want no quick assessment! the suspect complained, too loudly for Zoey’s taste. I need real medical help!

Zoey pursed her lips and shared a mocking glance with Christopher. Yeah, yeah. Let me get this cleaned up. It’s barely worth a band-aid.

THE FIST FIGHT BROKE out before Zoey even realized she was in the center of it. The doctor had green-lighted the scrapes and left Zoey to bandage it. What she didn’t know was this guy had been in a fight with another man before he’d been brought in, and his combatant followed him to the ER to finish.

The assailant entered the ER and managed to avoid the Triage entry protocol and nurse’s station (that was going to be a huge amount of paperwork for someone, and a giant meeting next week that Zoey was not looking forward to as a result of that slip up). He slipped past the Triage curtains until he found the handcuffed suspect in Triage 6, and before Christopher could react, the guy jumped the handcuffed vic who couldn’t fight back.

The guy got in great shot to the vic’s nose, which echoed with a resounding crunch sound and Zoey cringed. Zoey popped over to the vic without thinking, grabbing a wad of gauze to staunch the explosive wash of blood.

Christopher moved with her, his own arms moving automatically as he wrestled the guy to the ground. He yanked a zip tie from his belt as he gripped the man’s hands,