By Seanan McGuire
Issues are having a look up.
For the 1st time in what sounds like years, October "Toby" Daye has been in a position to pause lengthy sufficient to take a breath and view her lifestyles -- and he or she likes what she sees. She has acquaintances. She has allies. She has a squire to coach and a King of Cats to like, and perhaps, simply might be, she will allow her safeguard down for a change.
Or no longer. while Queen Windermere's seneschal is elf-shot and thrown into an enchanted sleep through brokers from the neighboring state of Silences, Toby reveals herself in a job she by no means anticipated to play: that of a diplomat. She needs to go back and forth to Portland, Oregon, to persuade King Rhys of Silences to not visit struggle opposed to the Mists. yet not anything is that straightforward, and what October reveals in Silences is worse than she may ever have imagined.
How a long way will Toby move while lives are at the line, and while allies either outdated and new are threatened via a strength she had by no means anticipated to stand back? How a lot is October prepared to renounce, and what sort of is she prepared to alter? In Faerie, what's previous isn't particularly gone.
It's simply anticipating a chance to pounce.
Read Online or Download A Red-Rose Chain (October Daye, Book 9) PDF
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Extra resources for A Red-Rose Chain (October Daye, Book 9)
Surprisingly, the answer was yes. I sat with my back to the wall. The pain was still there, but it just didn’t hurt as much. Jean-Claude got a bucket from near the stairs and washed it over the ﬂoor. There was a very modern drain in the middle of the ﬂoor. Theresa stood staring at me, hands on hips. ” Her voice held amusement, and something else I couldn’t deﬁne. “The pain, the nausea, it’s almost gone. ” She smirked, lips curling. “You’ll have to ask Jean-Claude that. ” There was a warm edge of anger to his voice.
High-pitched squeals, the thick brush of fur, the clatter of thousands of tiny claws ﬁlled the room. Thousands of them, thousands. Four giant rats sat like mountains in the writhing furry tide. One of them stared at me with black button eyes. There was nothing ratlike in the stare. I had never seen wererats before, but I was betting that I was seeing them now. One ﬁgure stood, legs half-bent. It was man-size, with a narrow, ratlike face. A huge naked tail curved around its bent legs like thick ﬂeshy rope.
The vampire growled deep and low in his throat. It was an animal sound. My voice was high and thin with fear; I sounded like a little girl. ” The vampire reared back, fangs slashing his own lips. ” Jean-Claude began to speak softly in French. Even when I couldn’t understand the language his voice was like velvet, soothing. Jean-Claude knelt by us, speaking softly. The vampire growled and lashed out, grabbing Jean-Claude’s wrist. He gasped, and it sounded like pain. Should I kill him? Could I plunge the knife home before he tore out my throat?