Review: Bloodfever (Fever #2) by Karen Moning

 

 

 

I used to be your average, everyday girl but all that changed one night in Dublin when I saw my first Fae, and got dragged into a world of deadly immortals and ancient secrets. . . .

In her fight to stay alive, MacKayla must find the Sinsar Dubh—a million-year-old book of the blackest magic imaginable, which holds the key to power over the worlds of both the Fae and Man. Pursued by assassins, surrounded by mysterious figures she knows she can’t trust, Mac finds herself torn between two deadly and powerful men: V’lane, the immortal Fae Prince, and Jericho Barrons, a man as irresistible as he is dangerous.

For centuries the shadowy realm of the Fae has coexisted with that of humans. Now the walls between the two are coming down, and Mac is the only thing that stands between them.

My Quickie Review:

In the second book of the Fever Series, Mac is getting a bit more secure in her new identity, but she still doesn´t know who she can trust. She can put her faith in that Jericho Barrons will save her life, but she has no idea of his endgame.

I couldn´t stop reading, as Bloodfever is full of non-stop action, new information, new players, and twists you never see coming. Now I’ll have to hurry along to the next book in the series.

“Beautiful girl, wait a minute! I was hoping I’d see you again!”

It was the “beautiful girl” part that flung a noose around my foot, the voice that snagged it tight. I raked a hand through my recently butchered hair and looked down at my dark, baggy clothes. The compliment was balm to my soul, the voice young, male, and full of fun. I skidded to a halt. Shallow, I know.

It was the dreamy-eyed guy I’d seen in the museum the day I’d been searching it for OOPs. I turned bright red. That was the day V’lane had amped up the death-by-sex thing and I’d stripped in the middle of Ireland’s famous Ór exhibit, right there in front of God and everybody.

Flushing, I sprinted off again, splashing through puddles. It was raining—of frogging course—and the sidewalks of Dublin’s craic-filled Temple Bar District were nearly empty. I had places to go, darkness to race, guys who’d watched me strip to avoid.

He dropped into a long-legged lope beside me and I couldn’t help myself, I slanted a look at him. Tall, dark, dreamy-eyed, he was boy-on-the-cusp-of-man, in that perfect stage where guys are velvet skin over supple hard bodies, without an ounce of fat. I’d bet he had a six-pack. He was a serious leftie.

Once upon a time in my life, I’d have given my eyeteeth for a date with him. I’d have dressed in pink and gold, swept my long blond hair up in a playful ponytail, and painted my nails and toes to match, Young-Hearts-Beat-Free-Tonight Blush.

“Fine, I’ll run with you then,” he said easily. “Where you off to in such a hurry?”

“None of your business.” Go away, pretty boy. You don’t fit in my world anymore. How I wished he did.

“I was afraid I wouldn’t see you again.”

“You don’t even know me. Besides, I’m sure you saw more than enough of me at the museum,” I said bitterly.

“What do you mean?”

“You know.”

He shot me a quizzical look. “All I know is I had to leave right after I saw you. I had to go to work.”

He hadn’t watched me strip? Some of the ugliness of my life melted away. “Where do you work?”

“Ancient Languages Department.”

“Where?” Hunky and smart.

“Trinity.”

“Cool. Student?”

“Yeah. You?”

I shook my head.

“American?”

I nodded. “You?” He didn’t sound Irish.

“Little of this, little of that. Nothing special.” He smiled and winked. Dreamy eyes, long dark lashes.

Wow. Right. This guy was special all the way down to his toes. I wanted to know him. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to feather my lips on those lashes. And he’d probably end up dead if he hung around with me. I killed monsters other people couldn’t see and had just spent the entire day in the police station on suspicion of murder for the death of a man I hadn’t killed instead of the sixteen I had. “Leave me alone. I can’t be your friend,” I said bluntly.

“That’s way too intriguing to pass up. What’s your story, beautiful girl?”

“I don’t have a story. I have a life. And you don’t fit in it.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Dozens.”

“Truth?”

“Is.”

“Come on, don’t dis me.”

“Consider yourself dissed. Fuck off,” I said coolly.

He held up both hands, “All right. I get it,” and stopped.

I pounded down the sidewalk away from him and didn’t look back. I wanted to cry.

“I’ll be around,” he called. “If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

Right. Ancient Languages Department at Trinity. I made a mental note never to go there.

Rating: 4 Kisses