Magic Bites (1) - Ilona KB. Magic Burns (2) - Ilona Andrews. epub. KB. Magic Strikes (3) - Ilona 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.

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So QED and stuff. That ending. It was okay, but I expected SO much more from it. More epic stuff.

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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?

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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. 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.

I hugged my rifle and listened. No snarls.

No growling. We were in the clear. 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. Another breath. Gradually the bestial part of me settled down. 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: the bronze skin, the masculine jaw, the wide sensuous mouth.

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: fourteen to eighty, blind, crippled, crazy. 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. Explain the dog. Andrea, concentrate! Try to stay on target. 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. Not good.

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. He was a very nice man. I liked him. It was quick. She met him shortly after my father died. The service was set for Friday. Someone stole his body from the funeral home.

I gritted my teeth. I owe your mother. Either way worked for me. He grimaced. 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.

Magic Mourns

I motioned with my fingers. 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. Do you care? 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? 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. 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. I stared at the phone. 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. He raised his hands palms out, still grinning like an idiot. I put the safety back on and dialed the number.On the wall, the charged air inside twisted glass tubes of a feylantern turned dark, while the ugly warts of electric lights in the hallway ceiling ignited with soft light.

But Kate was also human and needed the rest. On the wall, the charged air inside twisted glass tubes of a feylantern turned dark, while the ugly warts of electric lights in the hallway ceiling ignited with soft light.

Her legs gave out and she fell to her knees. And quite fantastically at that. The city lay in ruins. My Jeep slid onto an old bridge over the Chattahoochee River. New apartment buildings, built by hand rather than machine, sprouted atop the carcasses of the old ones.

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