Archangel's Shadows (Guild Hunter series Book 7)

And in summer 2015, look out for the next book in Nalini’s extraordinary Psy-Changeling series, followed by the next Guild Hunter adventure later in the year.

In the meantime, Nalini invites you to visit her website and join her newsletter for free short stories as well as exclusive sneak peeks.





Vivid green eyes watched her with an unwavering focus that raised the tiny hairs on Kirby’s arms, made her stomach go tight, a strange breathlessness in her chest. She didn’t recognize the tall, muscled male with skin tanned a beautiful gold, but he had to be part of the DarkRiver leopard pack—there was something feline about the way he stood, a stealthy predator at rest. She had the insane urge to go up to him, touch him, curl up naked against him, skin to skin.

The wild, uncharacteristic thought snapped Kirby back to her senses, and all at once, she was aware of Vera looking at her quizzically. Not sure how long she’d been staring at the stranger, she held up the small white box in her arms and said, “I baked yesterday,” even as her pulse thudded hard and rapid against her skin. “I thought I’d drop off half the cake for you, since I know you like black forest.”

“I like black forest, too.” A deep male voice that brushed over her senses like fur, the lips that shaped the words curved in a teasing smile, until she could almost believe she’d imagined the feral intensity of him when he’d first looked at her.

Tapping her cane on the ground, Vera looked up into that green-eyed face that had twisted Kirby’s insides into a tangled snarl. “I suppose you want some?”

“Yes, please.” Hands behind his back, expression as innocent as a five-year-old’s.

Snorting, Vera jerked her head toward Kirby. “This is Bastien. Don’t let him charm you—next thing you know, you’ll be naked.”

Kirby’s face filled with heat, burning her skin, the rush of blood so loud in her ears that she almost missed Bastien’s protests. Ignoring them both, Vera walked toward her door at a spry pace, a grace to her movements even at this age that made it clear she was changeling. Not able to look Bastien in the face when her own was no doubt the color of an overripe tomato, Kirby began to follow . . . and realized she’d acquired a six-foot-plus shadow.

“I feel I have to defend myself,” he murmured, the words a purr of sound against her ears.

“Really?” she managed to say, the scent of clean, fresh soap and warm-blooded male in her every breath. “You don’t like making women naked?” It was a response driven by some hereto hidden part of her that told her to show him her claws . . . despite the fact she was human, didn’t have claws. No matter if it felt as if the tips were shoving against her skin.

A pause.

Kirby had the feeling she’d surprised him, but he recovered quickly. “Oh, I do.” His voice had dropped, acquired a rougher edge. “However, and despite Vera’s refusal to believe me, I’m very particular about who I make naked now that I’m no longer a hormone-driven teenager. Of course, when I was a teenager, a naked woman would’ve ended things rather abruptly, biologically speaking.”

Skin burning again when it had just settled, Kirby nonetheless refused to back down. “I hope your ability to stand . . . firm”—Was she really saying this?—“against temptation has improved with time?” She’d never flirted this way, hadn’t known she could.

A hand on her lower back, his breath warm against her earlobe as he bent close to say, “You have no idea, little cat.”

Fighting the shiver that threatened, she walked into Vera’s house and to the kitchen, where she placed the cake on the counter, and said, “I’ll make the coffee.”

It gave her something to do, though if she’d thought it’d help her ignore Bastien, that proved a futile effort. Sprawled in a chair at the kitchen table opposite Vera, he was saying something that had the older woman laughing.

“Why are you dressed up so spiffy?” Vera asked once her laughter had faded, lifting her fashionable but unnecessary cane to tap Bastien’s forearm. “Was it for the girl selection?”

Bastien dropped his head in his hands, the stunning dark red of his hair catching the sunlight pouring through the kitchen windows, all of which overlooked woods filled with tall green firs. His white shirt was pulled taut over his shoulders in this position, his strength apparent. “I thought Mom needed my help with the furniture,” he growled when he raised his head. “If I’d known it was about matchmaking, I’d have worn my rattiest jeans and a stained T-shirt.”

Ears straining to hear every word, Kirby found the cups as the coffee began to percolate.

“Your mother loves you.” Vera glared at Bastien. “You’re in fine form, prime of your life, should find a girl before you get old and crinkly.”