Faefever (Fever, #3)

by Karen Marie Moning

There was no room for negotiation in his voice. I shrugged. It was past time to force this confrontation. “I’ve heard that an Unseelie can’t touch a Seelie Hallow.” “So, now I’m not eating them,” he said, reminding me of a prior accusation I’d made against him, “I am them? You’ve quite the imagination, Ms. Lane.” “Just take it,” I said irritably. The suspense was killing me. I knew he wouldn’t. Couldn’t. Barrons was a Gripper. That was all there was to it. Long, strong, elegant fingers closed around steel. He took the spear. Astonished, certain his features would be contorted in pain, my gaze flew to his face. There wasn’t a flicker of a lash, not the smallest shift of a muscle. Nothing. If anything, he looked bored. He offered it back. “Satisfied?” I refused to take it. Maybe if he kept holding it, something would happen. He waited. I waited. Eventually I started to feel stupid and took the spear back. He thrust his hands in his pockets and regarded me coolly. I was deflated. Barrons wasn’t Unseelie. Until that moment, I hadn’t realized how completely I’d made my case against him, and convicted him. It