Magic Bites (1) - Ilona plicanodfratran.gq KB. Magic Burns (2) - Ilona Andrews. epub. KB. Magic Strikes (3) - Ilona plicanodfratran.gq KB. Magic Mourns. Magic Mourns: A Novella in the World of Kate Daniels (Kate Daniels series) by Ilona Andrews. Read online, or download in secure EPUB format. Magic Mourns by Ilona Andrews. I sat in a small, drab office, one of many in the Atlanta chapter of the Order of Knights of Merciful Aid, and pretended to be Kate.
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Magic Slays (Kate Daniels, Book 5). Home · Magic Slays (Kate Daniels, Book 5) the button below! Report copyright / DMCA form · DOWNLOAD EPUB. Title details for Magic Mourns by Ilona Andrews - Available. Magic Mourns. A Companion Novella to Magic Strikes: A Penguin eSpecial from Berkley. MP3 Audiobook 4 · OverDrive Listen 4 · cover image of Gunmetal Magic cover image of Magic Mourns. Magic Mourns. Kate Daniels (Series). Ilona Andrews.
Fortunately, the Weatherby delivered respect in a Magnum cartridge. It would stop a rhino at full gallop. It sure as hell would handle an oversized dog. The ground shook as if from blows of a giant hammer. Blood-red and massive, it slid on the trash and crashed into the curve. The impact shook the slope. A twenty-foot-tall three-headed dog. The dog shook, flinging rubble from his fur. Thick, deep-chested, built like an Italian mastiff, it gripped the ground with four massive paws and charged after Raphael.
The mouths of its three heads hung open, displaying gleaming fangs longer than my forearm. Three forked serpentine tongues hung out as it thundered to us, flinging foam from between the horrid teeth. The drops of drool, each big enough to fill a bucket, ignited in midair. I just had to delay it long enough for the knucklehead to reach me.
I sighted the muzzle of the center head. The nose shot would deliver maximum pain. I sighted and fired again. The middle head drooped. The beast yowled and spun in pain. The Weatherby wins again. In a desperate leap, Raphael launched himself up the slope toward me. I caught his arm and hauled him up. We dashed to the Jeep. A howl of pure frustration shook the highway.
In the rearview mirror the dog sailed out of the ravine as if it had wings and landed on the road behind us. We hurtled down the highway at a breakneck speed. The dog gave chase with a triumphant howl that shook the ground beneath the car wheels. It closed the space between us in three great bounds and bent down over the car, its mouths opened wide.
The foul, corrosive breath washed over me.
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Raphael jumped up and snarled back, his hackles up. Burning drool hit the backseat, singeing the upholstery in an acrid stench of melted synthetics. I swerved, taking a sudden turn onto a wooden bridge and almost sending the Jeep off the edge into a gap. Monstrous teeth snapped a foot from the backseat.
The dog snarled. In the rearview mirror I saw its muscles bunch as it gathered itself for a leap. Nowhere to go. Inside me, an animal raked at my flesh, trying to spill out of my skin. I clenched my teeth and stayed human. The dog jumped. Its huge body flew toward us and then jerked back, as if an invisible leash had snapped, reaching its full length.
The giant canine fell, its paws waving clumsily in the air. In the rearview mirror I saw it rise.
Its bark rang through the Scratches. The dog barked again, whined, and jumped back into the ravine. I slowed to a speed that would let me make a turn without sending us to a fiery death in the gap below. In the seat next to me Raphael shuddered. Fur melted into smooth human skin, stretched taut over a heartbreakingly beautiful body.
Coal-black hair spilled from his head to his shoulders.
He looked at me with smoldering blue eyes, smiled, and passed out. Out cold. With magic down, changing shape took a lot of effort and combined with the strain of that run, Lyc-V, the shapeshifter virus, had shut him down for a rest. I growled under my breath.
A Novella in the World of Kate Daniels
But he knew that if he shifted shape, he would pass out on the seat next to me, nude, and I would be forced to stare at him until he slept it off. He had done it on purpose. The werehyena Casanova strikes again. I was getting really tired of his ridiculous pursuit. Ten minutes later I pulled into an abandoned Shell station and parked under the concrete roof shielding the pumps. My heart hammered. I tasted a bitter patina on my tongue and squeezed my eyes shut.
A delayed reaction to stress, nothing more. Inside, my secret self danced and screamed in frustration. I chained it. In the end it was all about control. All shapeshifters struggled with their inner beast. My problems were a lot more complicated. And the presence of Raphael only aggravated them. Raphael sprawled next to me, snoring slightly. Until he awoke, speculating on why a giant three-headed dog with burning drool had chased after him would be pointless.
Look at him. Napping without a care in the world, confident I would be watching him. And I was. Raphael was not one of these men, and yet he left them all in the dust. He had his good qualities: But his face was too narrow. His nose was too long.
And yet when he looked at women with those dark blue eyes, they lost all common sense and threw themselves at him. His face was so interesting and so… carnal. There was no other word for it. Raphael was all tightly controlled, virile sensuality, heat simmering just beneath the surface of his dusky skin.
And his body took my breath away. He was built lean, with crisp definition, proportionate and perfect with wide chest, narrow hips, and long limbs. My gaze drifted down to between his legs. And hung like a horse. He had been kind to me, more kind than I probably deserved. The first time, when my body betrayed me, he and his mother, Aunt B, saved my life by guiding me back into my shape.
The second time, when my back was pierced by silver spikes, he held me and talked me through pushing them out of my body. When I thought back to those moments, I sensed tenderness in him and I wanted very badly to believe it was genuine. Unfortunately, he was also a bouda.
They had a saying about werehyenas: Boudas would screw anything. I had witnessed it firsthand. The more I thought about it, the madder I got. He could speak in a warrior form just fine.
What exactly was I supposed to do with him? Did he expect me to sigh heavily while admiring his naked body? Or perhaps I was supposed to take advantage of the situation? I reached into the glove compartment and got out a Sharpie. An hour later Raphael stretched and opened his eyes. His lips stretched in an easy smile. Yes, there is. Explain the dog.
Raphael remembered to look cool and leaned back, presenting me with the view of a spectacular chest. First, what are you even doing here? We did it to prevent a war against the Pack. Both the Order and Curran, the Beast Lord, took a rather dim view of this occurrence. My heart jumped. Aunt B was… she was kind. She saved my life once and she kept my secret to herself. I owed her everything. Among boudas, as in nature among hyenas, the females ruled.
They were more aggressive, more cruel, and more alpha. Raphael nodded. She met him shortly after my father died. The service was set for Friday. Someone stole his body from the funeral home. I owe your mother. Either way worked for me.
I picked up this scent at the funeral home and trailed it here. There was something else under it, but the dog stink is so damn acrid, it drowns everything else. A giant three-headed dog was bad news. A vampire was much, much worse.
The Immortuus pathogen, the bacterial disease responsible for vampirism, killed its victim. Vampires had no ego, no self-awareness, no ability to reason.
They had the mental capacity of a cockroach. Ruled by insatiable bloodlust, they killed anything that bled. But their empty minds made a perfect vehicle for the will of a navigator, a necromancer, who piloted a vampire like a marionette, seeing through its eyes and hearing through its ears. Necromancers came in several varieties, the most adept of which were called Masters of the Dead.
A vampire piloted by a Master of the Dead could destroy a platoon of trained military personnel in seconds. And 99 percent of the Masters of the Dead were members of the People. The People were bad, bad news. Set up as a corporation, they were organized, wealthy, and expert in all things necromantic. And very powerful. He chased me into a crevice. I sat there for about an hour or so, and then he wandered off and I ran the other way.
What kind of creature is Fido, incidentally? All of my training had been in contemporary applications of magic. I could recite the vampiric biocycle off the top of my head, I could diagnose loupism in early stages, I could correctly identify the type of pyromagic used from burn pattern, but give me an odd creature and I drew a complete blank.
Kate had a mind like a steel trap, and she pulled absurdly obscure mythological trivia out of her hair. I pulled a cell phone out of the glove compartment. There was only one functioning cellular network. It belonged to the military and as a knight of the Order and an officer of peace, I had access.
Thinking how to phrase this. But Kate was also human and needed the rest. Raphael gave me a dazzling smile. My heart skipped a beat. Raphael hopped out, dug under the seat, and pulled out a dog-eared copy of The Almanac of Mystical Creatures.
Raphael flipped the book open and held it up. On the left page a lithograph showed a three-headed dog with a serpent for a tail. She sighed into the phone. It always opens to that entry now. Raphael put his hands over his face and shook, making choking sounds that suspiciously resembled laughter. If you want to help, tell me more about Cerberus. His primary function is to guard the front entrance.
Also Hades occasionally sends him on an errand, according to myths. The ancient Greeks were scared to death of him. They averted their faces when sacrificing to Hades.
They refused to even say his name. We had a careful relationship. We met at holiday dinners and talked about sports mostly. It was a safe topic. What are you thinking? I shook my head. Did you see the way Fido fell? The sinful smile was back. The vision of being full of Raphael zinged through my brain, short-circuiting rational thought. He glanced into the side mirror and stared, slack-jawed. His lips were solid black. A thick black line of guy liner outlined his deep-set eyes and a little black tear dripped down his left cheek-bone.
Elizabeth and the Call of Dragons by Ava Mason
Enormous, pissed-off pigs. Teddy Jo. Why me? Highly nourishing human soup. Noah at the Casino Help Desk. Uncle Nick Stupidhead.
Awesome stuff. More awesome stuff. So QED and stuff. That ending. It was okay, but I expected SO much more from it. More epic stuff. Messier stuff. Grittier stuff. More complex stuff. More dramatic stuff. Unfortunately, the ending was not nearly as momentous and thrilling as I thought it would be.
It felt rushed and oversimplified, and gave me the impression the book had been cut short somehow. Then again, what do I know? I am naught but an ungrateful, miserable little shrimp, after all. That being said, I have to admit I was a little shocked to see him disposed of off page so casually, and his death being completely brushed off. He was a selfish bastard, but he was part of the cast from day 1 and played a key role in some of the major events in the series.
He deserved much better than such a careless dismissal, if you ask me. Something else that disappointed me about the final battle is how predictable it was, and how easily the supposed evil nemeses were defeated Roland ends up being as decaf as a soap opera villain.
Not to mention that it read like a repeat of the events in Magic Strikes, with Kate stabbing herself to try and save the day…and being saved right back by Curran…who got to be a god just long enough to bring her back to life… Yay Sigh. I guess the whole thing felt too convenient and perfect and nice and stuff.
And just wasn't dark enough for me. I did want Kate and Curran as well as most of the cast to have their almost-nearly-happy ending, but this was just too much for my black, withered heart to take.
Why was he taken out of the picture?! I demand an explanation!
Where the homicidal decapod was my favourite Bouda during the final battle?! I want my Ascanio back!
I want to hear how his threesomes on the morgue steps are going! I would rather have read about how Julie and Derek managed to snatch the ruby from Neig's realm than about Dali and Jim's failed attempts at having a kid. And Kate Daniels still and forever will be the best UF series ever.
The world. The characters. The humor.But he knew that if he shifted shape, he would pass out on the seat next to me, nude, and I would be forced to stare at him until he slept it off. A delayed reaction to stress, nothing more. Jeaniene Frost.
Monstrous teeth snapped a foot from the backseat. May 17, Slowly, it solidified out of the gloom, one gargantuan paw on the windowsill, then another.
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