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Mundos sem dor, sem medo. Talvez ela seja exatamente o que precisamos agora. Juliette tem que fazer uma escolha: ser uma arma. Ou ser um guerreiro. Uma para cada garoto que amou — cinco ao todo.
Alec would never have to know, and Magnus would send the money to Whole Foods later anyway. He swept through the rooms one more time, adding cushions to the bare, sad wooden chairs and heaping their multicolored blankets from home onto the lopsided canopy bed. Emergency decorating mission accomplished and feeling far more cheerful, Magnus descended into the main hall of the Academy, hoping to find Catarina or see Alec coming.
There was no sign of activity, so despite his misgivings, Magnus went to check for Catarina in the dining hall.
She was not there, but there were a few scattered Nephilim students having breakfast. Magnus supposed the poor creatures had gotten up early to throw javelins or some other unsavory business.
There was a thin blond girl heaping a gray substance that could have been porridge or eggs onto her plate. Magnus watched with silent horror as she carried it toward a table, acting as if she actually intended to eat it.
Then she noticed Magnus. He gave her his most charming smile. Why not? He was familiar with what this look meant. People had undressed him with their eyes before.
He was impressed with the intensity of this particular look. It was rarer for people to rip off his clothes and send them flying to various corners of the room with their eyes. They were not even particularly exciting clothes. Magnus had decided to dress with quiet dignity, as befitted an educator, and was wearing a black shirt and tailored pants. He was also, for that stylish educator touch, wearing a short robe over the shirt, but the glittering gold thread running through the robe was very subtle.
And to spend time together. You, me, and Simon. She was trying, at least, and not all Nephilim did. And she mentioned Simon every other breath, despite Simon being a mundane.
Besides, the attention was flattering.
Magnus turned the smile up another notch. She and Magnus looked down at the broken bowl and the sad, gray contents. He gestured, and the whole mess vanished. Possibly you owe me your firstborn. He still did not see Catarina, but at the door he saw Alec, with the air of someone newly arrived and talking to a mundane Indian boy who looked about sixteen. Alec looked mildly dazed. We were talking about—all the ways there are to be a Shadowhunter, you know?
What are you going to do about it? Alec had been new to love, stumbling through his own terror at who he was and how he felt, and Magnus had been as careful with him as he knew how to be, afraid to hurt Alec and afraid to shatter this feeling between them, new to Magnus as it was to Alec. He reached out and tugged Magnus to him by the front of his robe, leaning back against the door frame and drawing Magnus slowly in for a kiss.
Alec was here. Shadowhunter Academy was going to be a snap. Loss is our teacher, and I am trying to eat.
Think about it. They all have daddy issues. And Magnus Bane is the sexiest of them all. He can be High Warlock of my pants. Why must you always be so sensitive? Alec was going to be staying at the Academy for weeks. He usually saw Alec in crowds of people, and it had never seemed the right time to talk to him.
It was the right time now. It was time to talk it out, the problem between them that Jace had hinted at so darkly. He wanted her to be. But sure. That was the plan, but none of them made it to the practice grounds that day. None of them made it past the threshold of the Academy. They all stood on the front step, in a horrified cluster. On the stone of the front step was a bundle, wrapped in a fuzzy yellow blanket.
Someone had left a parcel of garbage on their doorstep. Except the bundle was moving, in small incremental movements. Simon watched the fretful stir beneath the blanket, looked at the gleaming eyes peering out from the cocoon of fuzzy yellows, and his mind accepted what he was seeing, even as another shock came. A tiny fist emerged from the blankets, waving as if in protest at everything that was occurring.
The fist was blue, the rich navy of the sea when it was deep and you were on a boat as evening fell. Simon saw it at the precise moment that the wind caught it, snatching it off the blanket and whirling it away. Anne de Green Gables — L. Eu sei. Poucos conseguem descobrir sua identidade. Sentindo-se culpada pelo que aconteceu, Violet se afasta de todos e tenta descobrir como seguir em frente.
Para unificar o reino, um nobre chamado Conner trama um plano ousado, procurando por um garoto que se passe pelo filho desaparecido do rei e assuma o trono.
Obsidiana — Jennifer L. As coisas pareciam estar melhorando. Nada, nada bem mesmo. Se fracassasse, teria de deixar a corte. Aquele era o dia. Tudo muito mais perturbador do que uma criatura feita de folhas e galhos.