Faefever: Fever Series Book 3
Karen Marie Moning
Language: English
Pages: 432
ISBN: 0440244390
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
New York Times bestseller
He calls me his Queen of the Night. I’d die for him. I’d kill for him, too.
When MacKayla Lane receives a page torn from her dead sister’s journal, she is stunned by Alina’s desperate words. And now MacKayla knows that her sister’s killer is close. But evil is closer. And suddenly the sidhe-seer is on the hunt: For answers. For revenge. And for an ancient book of dark magic so evil that it corrupts anyone who touches it.
Mac’s quest for the Sinsar Dubh takes her into the mean, shapeshifting streets of Dublin, with a suspicious cop on her tail. Forced into a dangerous triangle of alliance with V’lane, a lethal Fae prince, and Jericho Barrons, a man of deadly secrets, Mac is soon locked in a battle for her body, mind, and soul.
he’d dumped me like that. It had made my head hurt even worse. Besides, a furious Barrons isn’t something you want to stand next to any more than you’d want to cozy up to a pissed-off cobra. “Unless you want him to sift in and take you, get close to me. Now. Or do you want to go with him?” I glanced at V’lane and moved to Barrons’ side. V’lane was so glacial with displeasure that a small blizzard was icing his end of the street, and I wasn’t dressed for the weather. Okay, so maybe V’lane scares
were supposed to be guarding the Book. The Fae were supposed to strip the LM’s memory before they dumped him on us, and I was supposed to be home with my sister playing volleyball on a beach somewhere. It’s not my fault. None of this is my fault. But for some idiotic reason, I seem to be able to do something about it. And I’m trying, so get off my back!” We faced off, breathing fast and shallow, glaring at each other, two young people living in a world that was coming apart at the seams, doing
their best to stop it, but realizing rapidly just how long the odds were. Tough times make for tough words, I guess. “What’s your terrible idea?” I said finally, in an effort to get things back on track. He inhaled and released it slowly. “My uncles want Barrons to help them hold the walls on Samhain. They say he’s Druid trained, and not afraid of the dark side.” I laughed. No, he certainly wasn’t afraid of the dark side. Some days I was pretty sure he was the dark side. “You’re right. It’s a
he do? I’ve been tracking crimes in the dailies. Night is its time. Has Jayne ever called you during the day? There was that. He hadn’t. Seven o’clock, Ms. Lane. You’ll have an hour of Voice first. I stood up, stretched, caught sight of my reflection in the window, and admired the picture. My new jeans were French and fit like a dream, my sweater was pink and soft, my boots were Dolce & Gabbana, my jacket was Andrew Marc, made of the supplest black leather I’d ever seen, and I’d woven a
weakly, a fallen dark bird. I nudged it with the toe of my boot. It disintegrated. I turned my face to the wind, east and west, north and south. It eddied around me, buffeting me from all sides, slapping me with hundreds of tiny hands, and I suddenly could feel the LM out there, working his dark magic to bring the walls down. It was changing things. I flexed the sidhe-seer place in my mind, focused, turned inward, seeking, hunting, and for an instant I actually got a flash of him, standing at