Read Online The Kiss of Angels (Divine Vampires Book 2) by Selena Kitt - Free Book Online
Authors: Selena Kitt
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appeared at the nurse’s side, tugging at her white skirt. “Is it time for parachute yet?”
“Are you ready for parachute?” Nurse Clara asked, raising her voice on purpose, getting the attention of several of the other children.
Soon they were all gathered around her, excited, buzzing, and they started to chant, “Parachute! Parachute! Parachute!”
“That’s our cue.” Char looked down at Muriel and grinned.
“What are you doing?” she asked, alarmed, as he steered her to the middle of the fake-grassy area.
“Sit with me.” He pulled her down.
“Here, in the middle of the floor?” They sat, face to face, cross-legged like children. She was still small compared to him, but from this angle, he seemed different, not quite so imposing. Angels didn’t have distinguishing features, not the way humans did, but there were subtle differences to tell them apart, mostly in the eyes. They said they were windows to the human soul, which wasn’t true—humans wore their souls on the outside—but they were the key to an angel’s essence.
Char’s eyes were dark, almost black, ringed in amber. They were the most expressive eyes she’d ever seen, human or celestial. Maybe it was because he was a seraphim, and she’d only ever seen those from a distance before. She’d never interacted with one, especially not like this.
“What are we doing?” Muriel asked as he reached over and took her hands in his. The gossamer light they made together, her silver and his gold, was mesmerizing in its contrast.
“You’ll see.” Char squeezed her hands in his, and for a moment, everything else went away. The sound of the children laughing and cheering as the nurse took something from a little closet, the sunlight streaming in from above, even the constant, calming presence of The Maker that resided deep within her, seemed to fade to nothing.
There was no one else but Char, and those dark, amber-rimmed eyes, like fire. If she had a soul, she would have sworn he was looking straight at it.
Muriel saw Zeph standing near the nurse as she unfurled something white, like a sail. He was looking straight at them.
“He can’t see us, right?” she mused. Guardians, like the fey, couldn’t see the dominions of angels in the caste above them. It was the same for every caste of angel. She was a cherubim, one step lower than the seraphim, and she could see all of the angels below her, including the bright blue, electric glow of the guardians.
“Zeph?” Char glanced over, shaking his head. “If I wanted him to, he could see us. But then he’d want to come over and talk, and I want you all to myself today.”
She looked up when he said that, smiling.
“So you’ve come here before?” she asked, changing the subject, a little afraid of her response to his words. Did humans feel this way, she wondered, when they sat so close on benches, heads bent, holding hands?
“This is one of my favorite places in the world,” he confessed. “Right here in this spot.”
“Really?” she puzzled. “Why?”
“You’ll see.”
Soon they were surrounded by laughing children, forming a circle. The kids grabbed the edges of the silk parachute, pulling it taut. Muriel giggled as it created a tent over their heads.
“Okay, to the center on three!” Nurse Clara said. “One, two, three!”
And then they were bombarded by over a dozen laughing children, running to the apex of the circle, pulling the parachute with them, creating a cave. And then they ran back to the edges again, letting air underneath, forcing the silk high up, the sun streaming through. It was like being under a gossamer balloon, and she stared up at it in wonder, tilting back so far, she nearly toppled over.
“Here, lie with me.” Char laughed, catching her by the hands.
He stretched out onto
“Are you ready for parachute?” Nurse Clara asked, raising her voice on purpose, getting the attention of several of the other children.
Soon they were all gathered around her, excited, buzzing, and they started to chant, “Parachute! Parachute! Parachute!”
“That’s our cue.” Char looked down at Muriel and grinned.
“What are you doing?” she asked, alarmed, as he steered her to the middle of the fake-grassy area.
“Sit with me.” He pulled her down.
“Here, in the middle of the floor?” They sat, face to face, cross-legged like children. She was still small compared to him, but from this angle, he seemed different, not quite so imposing. Angels didn’t have distinguishing features, not the way humans did, but there were subtle differences to tell them apart, mostly in the eyes. They said they were windows to the human soul, which wasn’t true—humans wore their souls on the outside—but they were the key to an angel’s essence.
Char’s eyes were dark, almost black, ringed in amber. They were the most expressive eyes she’d ever seen, human or celestial. Maybe it was because he was a seraphim, and she’d only ever seen those from a distance before. She’d never interacted with one, especially not like this.
“What are we doing?” Muriel asked as he reached over and took her hands in his. The gossamer light they made together, her silver and his gold, was mesmerizing in its contrast.
“You’ll see.” Char squeezed her hands in his, and for a moment, everything else went away. The sound of the children laughing and cheering as the nurse took something from a little closet, the sunlight streaming in from above, even the constant, calming presence of The Maker that resided deep within her, seemed to fade to nothing.
There was no one else but Char, and those dark, amber-rimmed eyes, like fire. If she had a soul, she would have sworn he was looking straight at it.
Muriel saw Zeph standing near the nurse as she unfurled something white, like a sail. He was looking straight at them.
“He can’t see us, right?” she mused. Guardians, like the fey, couldn’t see the dominions of angels in the caste above them. It was the same for every caste of angel. She was a cherubim, one step lower than the seraphim, and she could see all of the angels below her, including the bright blue, electric glow of the guardians.
“Zeph?” Char glanced over, shaking his head. “If I wanted him to, he could see us. But then he’d want to come over and talk, and I want you all to myself today.”
She looked up when he said that, smiling.
“So you’ve come here before?” she asked, changing the subject, a little afraid of her response to his words. Did humans feel this way, she wondered, when they sat so close on benches, heads bent, holding hands?
“This is one of my favorite places in the world,” he confessed. “Right here in this spot.”
“Really?” she puzzled. “Why?”
“You’ll see.”
Soon they were surrounded by laughing children, forming a circle. The kids grabbed the edges of the silk parachute, pulling it taut. Muriel giggled as it created a tent over their heads.
“Okay, to the center on three!” Nurse Clara said. “One, two, three!”
And then they were bombarded by over a dozen laughing children, running to the apex of the circle, pulling the parachute with them, creating a cave. And then they ran back to the edges again, letting air underneath, forcing the silk high up, the sun streaming through. It was like being under a gossamer balloon, and she stared up at it in wonder, tilting back so far, she nearly toppled over.
“Here, lie with me.” Char laughed, catching her by the hands.
He stretched out onto
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