#archangel's shadows

[books-in-a-storm]

My Library📚

Archangel’s Shadows, Nalini Singh

[dmitrigivesgoodblood]

"Stop reading my mind." She glared at him.

"You're the one with the power." He glared back. "Stop thinking at me."

"I don't know how to stop." Frowning, she thought of how sexy she found his butt, then stared at him.

He threw up his hands. "I have nothing."

"Good." She'd have to figure out how to make the block subconscious. "I was imagining sinking my teeth into your butt. You know it's been on my to-do list for a while."

His cheeks creased. "I'm available anytime."

[tiarn-ish]

"he brushed the snow off Illium’s feathers and said, “Next time you call me Sparkle, I’m dumping you into the Hudson.”"

[blog-sliverofjade]

Janvier’s scowl turned into a satisfied grin.  “Did you hear how his head bounced down the steps?  Thud, splat, thud, splat.”

Laughing at a conversation only the two of them would have in bed, she reached back and unhooked the bra.

[nicholasambrosiusgautier]

It had been one of the few times Dmitri had come down hard on him, managing to drum it into his head that Lijuan and the others in the Cadre were dangerous. He’d never forget what Naasir had said to him when Dmitri yelled that he didn’t intend to bury another child and that Naasir needed to have a care for his life. ‘Am I a person Dmitri? Will you be sad if I die?’ Hardened and cruel though he’d become, the innocent question had shaken him. ‘Yes,’ he’d said, as honest in his answer as Naasir had been in his question. ‘You are a person. You are Naasir. I’ll lose a piece of me if you die and it’s a piece I’ll never get back.’ Naasir had stared at him for a long time before coming over to hug him. ‘Okay, Dmitri. I’m sorry. I didn’t know I was a person before.’

Archangel’s Shadows, Nalini Singh

[nuestra-perdicion]

Un aliento fétido en la nuca. Un escalofrío en los huesos. Un susurro frío en la oscuridad. Existen cosas que no deberían existir, no deberían caminar, no deberían respirar, no deberían ser nombradas. Existen esas pesadillas que, una vez dada forma, nunca pueden ser puestas de nuevo en el paisaje onírico. —Pergamino de lo Antiguo Desconocido, Biblioteca de El Refugio.

Archangel's Shadows, Nalini Singh.

[dmitrigivesgoodblood]

Illium bowed deeply, adding an elegant flourish with one hand. "Yes, O Dark Overlord."

Lips twitching, Dmitri hoped with every cell in his body that Illium would find his way through the crushing pressures of immortality and power, that he wouldn't lose the joie de vivre that had been a part of him since he was a fledgling. Dmitri had once witnessed a tiny blue-winged baby angel fall hard to the earth after tangling his wings, his flight path prior to the fall that of a drunken bumblebee. Despite running full-tilt, Dmitri had been too far away to catch him.

When he'd reached the site of the accident, he'd expected to find a sobbing, hurt child. Hurt he had been, one wing crumpled, but Illium was already on his feet, his bruised and scraped arms thrust up and his hands fisted, face aglow. "I flew so far! Did you see?"

Dmitri had never forgotten that first meeting with a boy who'd reminded him of the irrepressible spirit of his own son. Illium's life had not always been painless, and it had left scars, but none of it had been as dangerous as the power now gathering inside of him. However, the issue wasn't critical.

Not quite yet.

"Begone, Bluebell," he said, an image of the tiny boy he'd carried home to his frantic mother that day at the forefront of his mind. "The Dark Overlord needs to talk to a certain spymaster."

[tiarn-ish]

she glanced at the doorway to see Keir exchanging an intimate look with a heavily muscled male warrior. The warrior angel’s hand was curved around the side of Keir’s neck, his head bent toward Keir’s shorter and more slender form. Whatever he said made the healer laugh before he slipped out of the warrior’s hold and into the infirmary.

Seeing Elena, he came over. “You look puzzled, Ellie.”

“I am. Last time I saw you with anyone”—back in the Refuge—“it was a woman.” And he, without a doubt, had stubble burn on the dusky skin of his throat right now. Which meant he’d been getting frisky only seconds before she saw him; Keir was too old for the mark not to have faded otherwise.

Smile gentle, he said, “I have been alive thousands of years, have learned that love does not always wear a single face.”