Darkling (Sisters of the Moon, Book 3)
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The D'Artigo sisters, Camille, Delilah, and Menolly, are half-human, half- Fae operatives for the Otherworld Intelligence Agency. When humans begin to go missing, then turn up as newly born vampires, Menolly- an acrobat extraordinaire-turned-vampire- must face the demons haunting her memories.
Camille frowned. "A giant wolf. Son of Loki, the havoc monger." Morio inclined his head. "I could probably keep up the illusion for a few moments, but he's going to figure out it's not the real thing before long." "A few seconds will buy time. Time when he's not paying attention to us," I said. "When we go in, I want that wolf behind us. Change of plans. Camille, you and Delilah are in front with me. Roz, you're next with Morio. Camille, you shoot a bolt of lightning to fry his senses. Chase,
be concerned with the sun rising in the morning. For me, it was just another one of life's inequities I had to deal with. I lived during the dark hours, in the shadows of life. Sometimes I felt like throwing a tantrum but in the end, I never did. Wasting energy just wasn't my style. I slipped through the secret entrance to my basement apartment and headed down the stairs, wondering for the umpteenth time just what my life would have been like had I not fallen off the ceiling and the Elwing Blood
searching the city—" I stopped as Delilah's cell phone rang. "Chase," she whispered, flipping it open. Please, please let everything at home be okay, I prayed, hoping that for once the gods would be listening. She hung up. "We have to go home. Chase just got a call from Sharah. Four more vamp victims—the FH-CSI team got to them before the regular force heard. They haven't risen yet, but you know they will." I glanced at Tim. "Tim, we have to go. We have to take care of them before they rise and
clutter that had accumulated over the holidays. As Iris and I set a good pace along the sidewalk, she zipped up her jacket and stuck her hands in her pockets. I wasn't cold—I'd never be cold again—but it was obvious that the wind chill was playing havoc. On the way to my car, which was parked in an all-night parking garage three blocks west of the Wayfarer, she chatted away. "This winter's been odd," she was saying. "When Camille first thought it was unnatural, I figured it was her imagination,
best bet is to offer her your wrist. That way she can't accidentally break your neck in her excitement and I'll have better access to control her. Don't be surprised if she doesn't recognize you. Don't let her scare you—when she first wakes up she'll be frightened and hungry. Eventually she'll remember who she is." "Menolly!" Camille's voice held an urgency that immediately caught my attention. I whirled. Erin had gone into convulsions. "Everybody but Tim and me get out. Wait in the main room.