That wasn’t quite right, though. She had touched him, and he’d felt something there. It wasn’t the warm touch of a hand on his shoulder, though; it was something deeper and more feral. There was some indescribable power to her, like the feel of a powerful engine vibrating up through his feet. On top of that, covering it completely, she had a powerful presence. It reminded him of an angel—and she almost fit the bill, with the wings jutting out of her back. But angels didn’t have flowing hair, and they usually wore diaphanous robes. Her hair had flowed like the mane on the pearl pony he’d seen on the beach.