Faefever (Fever, #3)

by Karen Marie Moning

—time is not on our side. You must be aggressive. You promised me a sighting. I want it. What do you suggest? Tomorrow we hunt. Sleep late. I’ll be keeping you up all night. I’d shrugged off a thrill of unwanted sexual awareness at his words. No doubt Barrons could keep a woman up all night. Why night? Why not hunt the Book during the day? Where did he go? What did he do? I’ve been tracking crimes in the dailies. Night is its time. Has Jayne eve...

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 brilliant pink, yellow, and purple silk scarf through my hair and taken my time with my makeup. I looked and felt great. Barrons was still apologizing, or maybe just trying to get on my...

door, full of new clothes. It wigged me out that Barrons had shopped for me. Especially considering what was in some of those bags. The man had exceptional taste and an eye for detail. Everything fit. That wigged me out, too. The bell over the door tinkled and Barrons stepped in. He was night in an Armani suit, silver-toed boots, black shirt, and dark eyes. “Not bothering with the mirror tonight?” I said breezily, “Or have you forgotten I know you walk around in it?” “Kneel before me, Ms. Lane.” His words surrounded me, infiltrated me, drove me to my knees, like a human before a Fae. “Doesn’t that just burn?” He gave me one of his scarier smiles. “Kneeling to me must offend every ounce of your perky little being.” I’d show him perky. Jaw clenched, I tried to rise. I tried to scratch my nose. I couldn’t even do that. I was as locked in place as a person in a body-encompassing straitjacket. “Why does your command lock down my whole body?” At least my vocal cords were working. “It doesn’t. My order o...

It wasn’t an order, but I did it anyway. I managed to wiggle my fingers then my entire hands. I poked around inside my head. The sidhe-seer place burned hot but everything else was dark. The sidhe-seer place didn’t have a thing to do with resisting Voice. “Who are you?” he demanded. What an odd question. Didn’t he know everything about me? I’d like to be able to Voice him on that one. “I’m Mac. MacKayla Lane.” Perhaps O’Connor in my blood, but Lane in my heart. “Strip away the name. Who are you?” I shrugged. Ha—now only my knees were rooted. The rest of me was moving freely. I swung my arms, to make sure he knew it. “A girl. Twenty-two. A sidhe-seer. A daught—” “Labels,” he said impatiently. “Who the fuck are you, Ms. Lane?” I opened my eyes. “I don’t get it.” “Close your eyes.” Voice ricocheted from wall to wall. My eyes closed as if they were his. “You exist only inside yourself,” he said. “No one sees you. You...

no one could see or judge me was liberating. I swelled with grief and anger. “Now tell me who you are.” “Vengeance,” I said in a cold voice. “Better, Ms. Lane. But try a...

was bleeding by the time the night’s lesson was over. In several places. They were self-inflicted wounds. I understood why he’d done it. This was tough, well, not love, but tough life lessons. I had to learn this. And I would do whatever it took. When he’d made me pick up the knife and cut myself, I’d seen a glimmer of light in the darkness inside my skull. I’d still cut myself, but something deep inside me had stirred. It was there, somewhere, if I could just dig deep enough to get to it. I wondered who I’d be by the time I got there. Was this why Barrons was the way he was? Who had put Jericho Barrons on his ...

unacceptable. I need this now. At least to be able to resist, or I’ll never be able to get near the LM.” I thought he was going to argue with me about getting near the LM but he said only, “That’s why I’m skipping years of training, taking you far ahead into difficult territory. Tonight was only the beginning of … pain. If you’re not okay with where it’s going, tell me here, and now. I won’t ask again. I’ll push you as far as I think you can go.” I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I’m okay with it.” “Go bandage yourself, Ms. Lane. Use this.” He withdrew a small bottle of ointment from his pocket. “What is it?” “It will speed the healing.” When I returned, he held open the door, and ushered me into the night. I glanced instinctively to the right. My gargantuan Shade was a dark cloud on top of the building next door. It loomed menacingly, and be...

everything else out there. And I don’t apologize to the gazelle when I take it down.” Sighing, I moved for the bike but he turned le...

a few hours. I want a look at the city, then we’ll come back for a car.” U...

looked at him sharply. He’d sounded strange there at the end, almost as if he felt … sorry for them. “When did you last kill one of them, Ms. Lane?” he said suddenly. “Yesterday.” “Was there trouble you didn’t tell me about?” “No. I just cut him up for parts.” “What?” Barrons stopped and looked down at me. I shrugged. “A woman died the other day. She wouldn’t have, if I’d had it handy. I won’t make that mistake again.” I was secure in my conviction that I was doing the right thing. “The woman in my store?” When I nodded, he said, “And just where are you keeping these … parts, Ms. Lane?” “In my purse.” “Do you think that’s wise?” “I think I just said I did,” I said coolly. “You do realize if you eat it again, you won’t be able to sense the one thing we need?” “I’ve got it under control, Barrons.” I hadn’t even looked at the jars since lunch.

“One never has an addiction under control. If you eat it again, I will personally kick your ass. Got it?” “If I eat it again, you can try to personally kick my ass.” Being able to hold my own with Barrons had been one of the many upsides to eating Unseelie. I often craved it for that reason alone. “I’ll wait till it wears off,” he growled. “What fun would that be?” I would never forget the night we’d fought, the unexpected lust. We looked at each other and for a moment those clouds of distrust lifted and I saw his thoughts in his eyes. You were something to see, he didn’t say. You were something to feel, I didn’t reply. His gaze shuttered. I looked away. We walked briskly down the sidewalk. Abruptly, he grabbed my arm and detoured me down a side alley. Two dark Fae were doing something near a trash can. I really didn’t want to know what. “Let’s see how good your fighting skills are, Ms. Lane, when you’re not pumped up on Unseelie steroids.” But before I could lose myself in the bliss of killing a few of the bastards, my cell phone rang. It was Inspector Jayne.

“V’lane?” came Barrons’ voice from behind me. I shook my head, wondering what “I prized most” was, afraid to contemplate it. I felt the electricity of his body behind me as he reached around me and took the card from my hand. He didn’t move away, and I battled the urge to lean back into him, seeking the comfort of his strength. Would he wrap his arms around me? Make me feel safe, if only for a moment, and if only a delusion? “Ah, the old ‘what you prize most’ threat,” he murmured. I turned around slowly, and looked up at him. He stiffened and sucked in a shallow breath. After a moment, he touched my cheek. “Such naked pain,” he whispered.

turned my face into his palm and closed my eyes. His fingers threaded into my hair, cupped my head, and brushed the brand. It heated at his touch. His hand tightened at the base of my skull and squeezed, and he raised me slowly to my tiptoes. I opened my eyes and it was my turn to inhale sharply. Not human. Oh, no, not this man. “Never show it to me again.” His face was cold, hard, his voice colder. “Why? What will you do?” “What it is my nature to do. Get inside. It’s time for your lesson.”

Normally, when we went hunting, Barrons drove in case I lost control of my primary motor functions, but it had been getting more difficult to turn him away from near brushes with the Book, so I’d insisted on driving tonight. He made a lousy passenger, barking directions I ignored, but it was better than the alternative. Last night when we’d had a near brush with the Book, I’d pretended to have an abrupt desperate need to use the bathroom—the only gas station open was one we’d fueled at, in the opposite direction—and he’d given me an unnervingly searching look. I suspected he was getting suspicious. After all, he could read the paper, too. This morning’s crime had been less than a mile from where I’d had him turn around last night. Although he didn’t know my radar had been getting stronger, I had no doubt he was going to put two and two together eventually. And so I was driving, my sidhe-seer senses on high alert, waiting for the faintest tingle, so I could subtly turn us away, when something totally unexpected happened. The Sinsar Dubh popped up on my radar, and it was moving straight toward us. At an extremely high rate of speed.

whipped the Viper around, tires smoking on the pavement. There was nothing else I could do. Barrons looked at me sharply. “What? Do you sense it?” Oh, how ironic, he thought I’d turned us toward it. “No,” I lied, “I just realized I forgot my spear tonight. I left it back at the bookstore. Can you believe it? I never forget my spear. I can’t imagine what I was thinking. I guess I wasn’t. I was talking to my dad while I was getting dressed and I totally spaced it.” I worked the pedals, ripping through the gears. He didn’t even try to pat me down. He just said, “Liar.” I sped up, pasting a blushing, uncomfortable look on my face. “All right, Barrons. You got me. But I do need to go back to the bookstore. It’s … well … it’s personal.” The bloody, stupid Sinsar Dubh was gaining on me. I was being chased by the thing I was supposed to be chasing. There was something very wrong with that. “It’s … a woman thing … you know.” “No, I don’t know, Ms. Lane. Why don’t you enlighten me?” A stream of pubs whizzed by. I was grateful it was too cold for much pedestrian traffic. If I had to slow down, the Book would gain on me, and I already had a headache the size of Texas that was threatening to absorb New Mexico and Oklahoma. “It’s that time. You know. Of the month.” I swallowed a moan of pain. “That time?” he echoed softly. “You mean time to stop at one of the multiple convenience stores we just whizzed past so you can buy tampons? Is that what you’re telling me?” I was going to throw up...

my name. How did it know my name? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. The shrieking in my head stopped. The pain vanished. The night stilled. I was in the eye of its storm. Barrons was five

Barrons was leaning. The Beast became the innocent hardcover. Barrons bent to one knee.

hardcover became the Sinsar Dubh, with bands and padlocks. It waited. I could feel it waiting. Barrons reached. For the first time in my life, I prayed. God, no, please, God, no. Don’t let Barrons pick it up and turn evil because if he does, we’re all lost. I’m dead, the walls are down, and the world is a bust. I realized, then, that the reason I’d been so conflicted since the night I’d watched Barrons step out of the Unseelie mirror was because, in my heart, I didn’t really believe he was evil. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t think he was good, either, but bad is potential evil. Evil is a lost cause. I

His fingers were inches from the Sinsar Dubh. “Barrons!” I shouted. He flinched and looked back at me. His eyes were black on black. “Jericho,” I cried. Barrons shook his head, once, a violent jerk from side to side. Moving like a man with

he pushed himself slowly to his feet, and began backing away. Suddenly the Book morphed into the Beast and rose, and rose, and rose until it towered over us, eclipsing the sky. Barrons turned then, and ran. The pain was back, crushing, crucifying. The night turned cold and life-sucking, and the wind returned, screaming with the voices of the unavenged dead. I felt myself scooped up. I flung my arms around Barrons’ neck and held on as he ran.

four o’clock in the morning, we were sitting in front of a fire in the bookstore, in the rear conversation area, behind bookcases where no passersby might see us, not that any were expected at four o’clock in the morning on the edge of a Dark Zone. I was snuggled in a nest of blankets, staring into the flames. Barrons brought me a cup of hot cocoa he’d microwaved, using two packets of instant from Fiona’s old stash behind the cash register. I...

“She’s with O’Bannion, you know,” I told him through lips that burned with cold. Even Barrons looked chilled, pale. “I know,” he said. “She’s eating Unseelie.” “Yes.” “Do you care?” “Fio is her own woman, Ms. Lane.” “What if I have to kill her?” If she came after me now, I’d have no choice but to stab her. “She tried to kill you. If her plan had worked, you would have been dead. I underestimated her. I didn’t think her capable of murder. I was wrong. She wanted you out of the way and was willing to sacrifice anything I might want, or need, to accomplish it.” “Were you her lover?” He looked at me. “Yes.” “Oh.” I swirled the cocoa with my spoon. “She was a little old, don’t you think?” I rolled my eyes at myself as soon as I said it. I was going by appearances, not reality. Reality was Barrons was at least twice her age; who knew how much more? His lips curved faintly. I began to cry. Barrons looked horrified. “Stop that immediately, Ms. Lane.” “I can’t.” I sniffled into my cup of cocoa so he couldn’t see my face. “Try harder!” I gave a great sniff and shudder, and turned it off. “I have not been her lover for … some time,” he offered, watching me carefully. “Oh, get over yourself...

Well, at least I no longer had to worry about Barrons or V’lane getting the Book before I did. V’lane couldn’t touch it because he was Seelie, and Barrons wouldn’t touch it because he was smart enough to realize that whatever purpose he wanted it for would be instantly forfeit to the Beast’s all-consuming nature. “Was it coming after us?” I asked. “I don’t know,” he said. “It certainly looked like it, though, didn’t it?” I nestled deeper into my blankets. “What are we goin...

midnight, Barrons hadn’t shown up and I was feeling pissy. He’d said he’d be here. I’d planned for it.

one, I was worried. By two, I was certain he wasn’t going to show. At three-fifteen, I called him. He answered on the first ring. “Where the hell are you?” I snapped, at the same time he snapped, “Are you all right?” “I’ve been waiting for hours,” I said. “For what?” “You said you’d be here.” “I was delayed.” “Maybe you could have called?” I said sarcastically. “You know, picked up the phone and said ‘Hey, Mac, I’m running late.’ ” There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line. Then Barrons said softly, “You’ve mistaken me for someone else. Do not wait on me, Ms. Lane. Do not construct your world around mine. I’m not that man.” His words stung. Probably because I’d done exactly that: structured my night around him, even played out in my head how it was going to go. “Screw you, Barrons.” “I’m not that man, either.” “Oh! In your dreams! Allow me to put this into words you taught me yourself: I resent it when you waste my time. Keys, Barrons. That’s what I’ve been waiting for. The Viper’s in the shop.” And I missed it like I missed my long blond hair. We’d bonded, the Viper and I. I doubted I’d ever get it back. It had been heavily damaged

high-speed trip down the sidewalk and, if I knew Barrons as well as I thought I did, he’d sell it before he’d drive it again, no matter how flawlessly it was repaired. I kind of felt the same way. When you spend that much money, you want perfection. “I need a car to drive.” “Why?” “I’ve decided to go to the abbey for the ritual,” I said. “I’m not certain that’s wise.” “It’s not your decision.” “Maybe it should be,” he said. “I can’t do anything to help the MacKeltars, Barrons.” “I didn’t say you should. Perhaps you should remain in the store tomorrow night. It’s the safest place for you.” “You want me to hide?” My voice rose with disbelief on the last word. Months ago, I might have happily hid. Watched late night TV while painting my fingernails and toenails to match, a divine shade of pink. Now? Not a chance. “Sometimes cauti...

the-goose-and-gander thing. I’m not going to gander helplessly.” “You’re the goose, Ms. Lane. I’m the gander.” As if I could mistake his gender. “That was a double entendre,” I informed him stiffly. “I was being clever. Gander has multiple meanings. What good is being clever when the person you’re being clever to is too dense to get it?” “I’m not dense,” he said just as stiffly, and I sensed one of our childish fights looming on the horizon. “As a double entendre it didn’t work. Look up double entendre.” “I know what double entendre means. And you can just shove your stupid birthday cake. I don’t even know why I bothered!” The silence was so protracted that I decided he’d hung up. I hung up, too, wishing I’d done it first. Twenty minutes later, Barrons stepped through the door from the back of the bookstore. Ice was crystallized in his hair, and he was pale from extreme cold. I was sitting on...

“What constitutes ‘must’? Where do you go?” He glanced around. “Where is the cake?” “I threw it away.” He gave me a look. I sighed, got up, and got it out of the fridge. It was a seven-layer chocolate cake, with alternating raspberry and chocolate cream fillings, frosted pink, with a Happy Birthday JZB in the center, delicately scripted and adorned with flowers. It was beautiful. It was the only thing that had made my mouth water in weeks, besides Unseelie. I set it on the coffee table, then got plates and forks from the cabinet behind the counter. “I’m confused, Ms. Lane. Is this cake for me, or for you?” Yeah, well, there was that. I’d been planning on eating a lot of it myself. I’d spared no expense. I could have downloaded forty-seven songs from iTunes instead. “They were out of black icing,” I said dryly. He wasn’t reacting the way I’d planned. He didn’t look the least bit touched or amused. In fact, he was regarding the cake with a mixture of horror and … grim fascination; the same way I regard monsters I’m about to kill. I fidgeted. At the time I’d ordered it, it’d seemed like a good idea. I’d thought it was a humorous way of poking fun at our … relationship, while also s...