Items related to Shadows on the Soul (The Guardians of the Night, Book...
Acclaimed author Jenna Black's Guardians of the Night paranormal romance series, which began with Watchers in the Night and Secrets in the Shadows continues in Shadows on the Soul.
The baddest of the bad boys....
Gabriel is a five-hundred-year-old vampire with the soul of a killer. He has defeated his mother in battle for the territory of Baltimore and vowed vengeance upon his father, the Master of Philadelphia, for a centuries-old betrayal.
Jezebel, Gabriel's new fledgling, has a soul as scarred as his own, yet Gabriel finds that the ice around his heart slowly melts when she is near. But one of Gabriel's ancient enemies has targeted her―and if Gabriel wants to save her, he will have to abandon his plans for revenge and join forces with his father.
The question is not whether Gabriel can redeem himself from his past, but whether he can ever forgive himself for it.
"synopsis" may belong to another edition of this title.
About the Author:
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.:
JENNA BLACK is your typical writer―which means she's an "experience junkie." She received her Bachelor of Arts in physical anthropology and French from Duke University. She is the author of the Faeriewalker series for teens as well as the Morgan Kingsley urban fantasy series.
SHADOWS ON THE SOUL
1GABRIEL GLIDED INTO THE Four Seasons Hotel bar in a cloud of glamour. He smiled as he imagined what the patrons would think if they caught a glimpse of his studded motorcycle boots and black leather. But tonight, as every night, he'd declined to dress for dinner.He passed by a table where an amorous couple huddled close together, the besotted male oblivious to Gabriel's passing. The woman's eyebrows drew together and she shivered, sensing the passage of a dangerous predator even if she couldn't see him. He lingered, his nostrils flaring as he scented the air, but neither of them tempted him.He'd held off feeding for the three days he'd been in Philadelphia, wanting to make a statement with his very first kill in his dear father's territory. The woman shivered again, and Gabriel realized she felt the chill of his rage. He reeled himself back in. For his revenge against the man who'd sired him and then tried to kill him, he would need to leash his rage and act with calculated precision. Which was why his first victim had to be perfect.He could never defeat Eli in a fight. His father had beenan old and powerful vampire when Gabriel was born, and Gabriel would reach his five hundredth birthday this Christmas. But after careful thought, he'd realized he had the perfect weapon with which to torture the old man for as long as it pleased him.Table after table he passed, considering, then discarding, one mortal after another--until he approached a woman who sat alone at a table for two. His nostrils stung as he picked up a familiar scent, acrid and yet cloyingly sweet all at once. He paused to focus his full attention on her.He guessed her age at around thirty, and her appearance screamed Corporate America. An expensive pin-striped pantsuit clung to her curves--no doubt tailored, because off-the-rack clothes never looked so perfect. Hair of varying shades of blond framed her face in a rather severe pageboy, and her eyes held a look of intense concentration as she tapped away at her BlackBerry. A vodka martini sat neglected on the table before her.Gabriel smiled. Now here was perfection. Female, pretty, with all the trappings of wealth and respectability. No doubt she was a pillar of her community. And yet, there was that scent, fighting its way through her expensive perfume ...He dropped his glamour enough to allow the woman to see him, then pulled up a chair uninvited.She was so intent on her work that, for a full sixty seconds, she didn't notice him. He might have felt insulted if he were inclined to vanity. In his long-ago youth, his appearance had been quite pleasing to the ladies. But that was before Eli's sword had drawn the ugly scar across his cheek. He supposed he should be thankful the old man had lost his nerve at the last moment, or the sword would have sliced clean through his neck instead of slashing almost harmlessly across his face. But he wasn't thankful, and despite the fact that vampires weren't supposed to scar, the scar remained two centuries later, an ever-present reminder of his father's love.When she finally noticed him, the woman started, her hazel eyes growing wide as she put the BlackBerry down.She opened her mouth, no doubt to tell him he wasn't welcome at her table, but he reached out to her with his glamour and she froze in place with that startled look still on her face.Gabriel smiled at her, but it wasn't a warm smile. Even through the glamour, she sensed the menace in that smile, for a hint of fear blended with her other scents. He rested an elbow on the table and leaned toward her."What is your name, pretty one?" he asked.She blinked and swallowed hard. "M-margaret. Margaret McCall." The scent of fear sharpened as his glamour dragged the answer from her lips against her will.He let his eyes drift from her face to her throat, where her pulse visibly drummed. His fangs descended, and he made no attempt to hide them. Margaret's face went pale, the pulse in her throat now leaping wildly. He could hear the beat of her racing heart as primal instincts warned her she was staring death in the face."You've been a very naughty girl, haven't you, Margaret?" he asked, tonguing one of the fangs."I-I don't know what you mean," she stammered.He sensed her trying to look away, trying to break the hold of his glamour, but it was a futile effort. He breathed deep the scent of her, the fear and the perfume and the ... other. The scent he liked to think of as corruption."I'm quite sure you do," he said. He pushed back his chair, then stood over her and offered his elbow like a gentleman. "Come along, my dear. Let's have a private little chat, shall we?"A tiny whimper of fear escaped her throat, but she managed no more sound as his glamour forced her to her feet, forced her to take his elbow and allow him to lead her away from the illusory safety of the public bar."I'm going to kill you," he said conversationally as he guided her past the tables, then finally out the front door of the hotel. Fear rolled off her in waves, and he fought an unsavory urge to prolong it, to use that fear like a torturer's hot iron, not for any purpose but that it pleased him.She was far from innocent, but she was still a mortal woman, and her crimes, whatever they were, could not compare to those of vampires, of Killers. Like himself. No, he felt no special urge to be merciful to her, but he would not torment her more than necessary. The most vicious of his torments were reserved for Killers, and there was only one of those--other than himself--in all of Philadelphia."Please--" the woman started, but he stopped her voice with a shake of his head."I cannot be bargained with. Nor can I be swayed to mercy." They were nearing a dark alley, the kind of place a woman like her was taught never to set foot in at night. "The only question is how much you will suffer as you die."Her terror was a palpable force as they stepped into the alley to find it deserted. He pushed her up against a wall in a pool of shadow, grabbing her chin and forcing her head up so that she met his eyes."Confess to me the worst sin you have ever committed, and your death will be quick and painless. Lie to me, or refuse to tell me, and I will make it last, and you will feel every second of it."Her heart galloped, and twin tears leaked from her eyes. Tremors shook her entire body. He watched the conflict that raged behind her eyes, saw her desperate desire to deny any wrongdoing. But no mortal could look into his eyes and doubt he meant what he said."I killed my daughter," she whispered, trying to look away but failing."Go on," he urged when it seemed that was all she would say. "Tell me all of it." His lips twisted into a sneer. "They say confession is good for the soul."She swallowed hard. "I found out my husband was having an affair. He used to beat us both. I'd called the police on him once, so it was on record."I ... I beat my daughter to death and said he did it. I didn't mean to kill her!" Her eyes pleaded for Gabriel to believe her.He curled his lips away from his fangs. "You just meant to knock her around a little and then call the police on your husband?"She nodded frantically. "Yes, yes, that's all--""You think that absolves you of sin?"She didn't answer. He wasn't sure if it was fear or guilt that had stopped her tongue. Maybe both. He thought he sensed a shadow of misery on her soul, but perhaps he was projecting. If her crime made her miserable, then he was granting her mercy by killing her. He smiled to himself. Mercy, justice, and revenge all wrapped up in one pretty package.The woman's fear spiked, but he reached out with his glamour and stilled the clamoring of her mind. Her eyes glazed, her jaw slackened, and her pulse slowed its frantic rush. At his mental urging, she turned her head to the side and exposed her throat. He brushed her hair out of the way, then lowered his head to just above her skin, breathing in deeply, drawing her bouquet of scents into his lungs.Then, he sank his fangs into her flesh, pulling them out with a slashing motion until blood gushed from the wound. He sealed his mouth over the flow and drank deeply.Five hundred years of kills hadn't diminished the flood of sensation that always overwhelmed him at the first taste. His head filled with power as his soul soared with giddy elation and his body hardened.Then, he saw the memory he'd drawn to the surface, saw Margaret McCall in one of her pretty designer suits, wielding a frying pan like a weapon. Her eyes glowed with madness, and her fury slammed into him until the memory was as real as his own ...Betrayed. Again.She'd believed every lie Frank had told her. Believed the anger management classes had his rage--and his fists--under control. Believed he'd been working late, even though she knew better, even though she'd caught him with that slut just last year.She wanted to kill him, wanted to beat him as he'd beather, only she wouldn't stop. She wanted to see his head cave in under the weight of her blows. But he wasn't here, would probably never come back now that she'd caught him in his lies yet again.She banged the frying pan against the counter, desperate for an outlet for her rage. The crash brought her six-year-old daughter running. And the rage crystallized within her, no longer a roaring, out-of-control blaze, but a cold, hard core of ice.Gabriel wrenched his mind away, putting distance between them as that first rush of power cooled, became manageable. So much anger in her. Anger that had lived inside her all her life, that she'd never allowed herself to vent. Then one day, the anger had burst her skin and she'd welcomed it, embraced it, done things s...
1GABRIEL GLIDED INTO THE Four Seasons Hotel bar in a cloud of glamour. He smiled as he imagined what the patrons would think if they caught a glimpse of his studded motorcycle boots and black leather. But tonight, as every night, he'd declined to dress for dinner.He passed by a table where an amorous couple huddled close together, the besotted male oblivious to Gabriel's passing. The woman's eyebrows drew together and she shivered, sensing the passage of a dangerous predator even if she couldn't see him. He lingered, his nostrils flaring as he scented the air, but neither of them tempted him.He'd held off feeding for the three days he'd been in Philadelphia, wanting to make a statement with his very first kill in his dear father's territory. The woman shivered again, and Gabriel realized she felt the chill of his rage. He reeled himself back in. For his revenge against the man who'd sired him and then tried to kill him, he would need to leash his rage and act with calculated precision. Which was why his first victim had to be perfect.He could never defeat Eli in a fight. His father had beenan old and powerful vampire when Gabriel was born, and Gabriel would reach his five hundredth birthday this Christmas. But after careful thought, he'd realized he had the perfect weapon with which to torture the old man for as long as it pleased him.Table after table he passed, considering, then discarding, one mortal after another--until he approached a woman who sat alone at a table for two. His nostrils stung as he picked up a familiar scent, acrid and yet cloyingly sweet all at once. He paused to focus his full attention on her.He guessed her age at around thirty, and her appearance screamed Corporate America. An expensive pin-striped pantsuit clung to her curves--no doubt tailored, because off-the-rack clothes never looked so perfect. Hair of varying shades of blond framed her face in a rather severe pageboy, and her eyes held a look of intense concentration as she tapped away at her BlackBerry. A vodka martini sat neglected on the table before her.Gabriel smiled. Now here was perfection. Female, pretty, with all the trappings of wealth and respectability. No doubt she was a pillar of her community. And yet, there was that scent, fighting its way through her expensive perfume ...He dropped his glamour enough to allow the woman to see him, then pulled up a chair uninvited.She was so intent on her work that, for a full sixty seconds, she didn't notice him. He might have felt insulted if he were inclined to vanity. In his long-ago youth, his appearance had been quite pleasing to the ladies. But that was before Eli's sword had drawn the ugly scar across his cheek. He supposed he should be thankful the old man had lost his nerve at the last moment, or the sword would have sliced clean through his neck instead of slashing almost harmlessly across his face. But he wasn't thankful, and despite the fact that vampires weren't supposed to scar, the scar remained two centuries later, an ever-present reminder of his father's love.When she finally noticed him, the woman started, her hazel eyes growing wide as she put the BlackBerry down.She opened her mouth, no doubt to tell him he wasn't welcome at her table, but he reached out to her with his glamour and she froze in place with that startled look still on her face.Gabriel smiled at her, but it wasn't a warm smile. Even through the glamour, she sensed the menace in that smile, for a hint of fear blended with her other scents. He rested an elbow on the table and leaned toward her."What is your name, pretty one?" he asked.She blinked and swallowed hard. "M-margaret. Margaret McCall." The scent of fear sharpened as his glamour dragged the answer from her lips against her will.He let his eyes drift from her face to her throat, where her pulse visibly drummed. His fangs descended, and he made no attempt to hide them. Margaret's face went pale, the pulse in her throat now leaping wildly. He could hear the beat of her racing heart as primal instincts warned her she was staring death in the face."You've been a very naughty girl, haven't you, Margaret?" he asked, tonguing one of the fangs."I-I don't know what you mean," she stammered.He sensed her trying to look away, trying to break the hold of his glamour, but it was a futile effort. He breathed deep the scent of her, the fear and the perfume and the ... other. The scent he liked to think of as corruption."I'm quite sure you do," he said. He pushed back his chair, then stood over her and offered his elbow like a gentleman. "Come along, my dear. Let's have a private little chat, shall we?"A tiny whimper of fear escaped her throat, but she managed no more sound as his glamour forced her to her feet, forced her to take his elbow and allow him to lead her away from the illusory safety of the public bar."I'm going to kill you," he said conversationally as he guided her past the tables, then finally out the front door of the hotel. Fear rolled off her in waves, and he fought an unsavory urge to prolong it, to use that fear like a torturer's hot iron, not for any purpose but that it pleased him.She was far from innocent, but she was still a mortal woman, and her crimes, whatever they were, could not compare to those of vampires, of Killers. Like himself. No, he felt no special urge to be merciful to her, but he would not torment her more than necessary. The most vicious of his torments were reserved for Killers, and there was only one of those--other than himself--in all of Philadelphia."Please--" the woman started, but he stopped her voice with a shake of his head."I cannot be bargained with. Nor can I be swayed to mercy." They were nearing a dark alley, the kind of place a woman like her was taught never to set foot in at night. "The only question is how much you will suffer as you die."Her terror was a palpable force as they stepped into the alley to find it deserted. He pushed her up against a wall in a pool of shadow, grabbing her chin and forcing her head up so that she met his eyes."Confess to me the worst sin you have ever committed, and your death will be quick and painless. Lie to me, or refuse to tell me, and I will make it last, and you will feel every second of it."Her heart galloped, and twin tears leaked from her eyes. Tremors shook her entire body. He watched the conflict that raged behind her eyes, saw her desperate desire to deny any wrongdoing. But no mortal could look into his eyes and doubt he meant what he said."I killed my daughter," she whispered, trying to look away but failing."Go on," he urged when it seemed that was all she would say. "Tell me all of it." His lips twisted into a sneer. "They say confession is good for the soul."She swallowed hard. "I found out my husband was having an affair. He used to beat us both. I'd called the police on him once, so it was on record."I ... I beat my daughter to death and said he did it. I didn't mean to kill her!" Her eyes pleaded for Gabriel to believe her.He curled his lips away from his fangs. "You just meant to knock her around a little and then call the police on your husband?"She nodded frantically. "Yes, yes, that's all--""You think that absolves you of sin?"She didn't answer. He wasn't sure if it was fear or guilt that had stopped her tongue. Maybe both. He thought he sensed a shadow of misery on her soul, but perhaps he was projecting. If her crime made her miserable, then he was granting her mercy by killing her. He smiled to himself. Mercy, justice, and revenge all wrapped up in one pretty package.The woman's fear spiked, but he reached out with his glamour and stilled the clamoring of her mind. Her eyes glazed, her jaw slackened, and her pulse slowed its frantic rush. At his mental urging, she turned her head to the side and exposed her throat. He brushed her hair out of the way, then lowered his head to just above her skin, breathing in deeply, drawing her bouquet of scents into his lungs.Then, he sank his fangs into her flesh, pulling them out with a slashing motion until blood gushed from the wound. He sealed his mouth over the flow and drank deeply.Five hundred years of kills hadn't diminished the flood of sensation that always overwhelmed him at the first taste. His head filled with power as his soul soared with giddy elation and his body hardened.Then, he saw the memory he'd drawn to the surface, saw Margaret McCall in one of her pretty designer suits, wielding a frying pan like a weapon. Her eyes glowed with madness, and her fury slammed into him until the memory was as real as his own ...Betrayed. Again.She'd believed every lie Frank had told her. Believed the anger management classes had his rage--and his fists--under control. Believed he'd been working late, even though she knew better, even though she'd caught him with that slut just last year.She wanted to kill him, wanted to beat him as he'd beather, only she wouldn't stop. She wanted to see his head cave in under the weight of her blows. But he wasn't here, would probably never come back now that she'd caught him in his lies yet again.She banged the frying pan against the counter, desperate for an outlet for her rage. The crash brought her six-year-old daughter running. And the rage crystallized within her, no longer a roaring, out-of-control blaze, but a cold, hard core of ice.Gabriel wrenched his mind away, putting distance between them as that first rush of power cooled, became manageable. So much anger in her. Anger that had lived inside her all her life, that she'd never allowed herself to vent. Then one day, the anger had burst her skin and she'd welcomed it, embraced it, done things s...
"About this title" may belong to another edition of this title.
- PublisherTor Books
- Publication date2014
- ISBN 10 0765338025
- ISBN 13 9780765338020
- BindingPaperback
- Number of pages336
- Rating
Buy New
Learn more about this copy
US$ 14.88
Shipping:
US$ 18.95
From Canada to U.S.A.
Top Search Results from the AbeBooks Marketplace
Seller Image
Shadows on the Soul (The Guardians of the Night, Book 3)
Published by
Tor Books
(2014)
ISBN 10: 0765338025
ISBN 13: 9780765338020
New
Soft cover
First Edition
Quantity: 1
Seller:
Rating
Book Description Soft cover. Condition: New. 1st Edition. 208 x 134 mm. Language: English . Brand New Book. The baddest of the bad boys.Gabriel is a five-hundred-year-old vampire with the soul of a killer. He has defeated his mother in battle for the territory of Baltimore and vowed vengeance upon his father, the Master of Philadelphia, for a centuries-old betrayal. Jezebel, Gabriel s new fledgling, has a soul as scarred as his own, yet Gabriel finds that the ice around his heart slowly melts when she is near. But one of Gabriel s ancient enemies has targeted her -and if Gabriel wants to save her, he will have to abandon his plans for revenge and join forces with his father. The question is not whether Gabriel can redeem himself from his past, but whether he can ever forgive himself for it. Seller Inventory # 007835
Buy New
US$ 14.88
Convert currency
Seller Image
Shadows on the Soul (The Guardians of the Night, Book 3)
Published by
Tor Books
(2014)
ISBN 10: 0765338025
ISBN 13: 9780765338020
New
Soft cover
First Edition
Quantity: 1
Seller:
Rating
Book Description Soft cover. Condition: New. 1st Edition. Mark on text block otherwise tight and unread. 208 x 134 mm. Language: English . Brand New Book. The baddest of the bad boys.Gabriel is a five-hundred-year-old vampire with the soul of a killer. He has defeated his mother in battle for the territory of Baltimore and vowed vengeance upon his father, the Master of Philadelphia, for a centuries-old betrayal. Jezebel, Gabriel s new fledgling, has a soul as scarred as his own, yet Gabriel finds that the ice around his heart slowly melts when she is near. But one of Gabriel s ancient enemies has targeted her -and if Gabriel wants to save her, he will have to abandon his plans for revenge and join forces with his father. The question is not whether Gabriel can redeem himself from his past, but whether he can ever forgive himself for it. Seller Inventory # 007836
Buy New
US$ 14.88
Convert currency