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Informationen zum Autor Patricia Briggs is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of the Mercy Thompson urban fantasy series ( Smoke Bitten, Storm Cursed ) and the Alpha and Omega novels ( Wild Sign , Burn Bright ). Klappentext Mercy Thompson, car mechanic and shapeshifter, must face her greatest fears in this chilling entry in the #1 New York Times bestselling series. The vampire Wulfe is missing. Since he’s deadly, possibly insane, and his current idea of “fun” is stalking me, some may see it as no great loss. But, warned that his disappearance might bring down the carefully constructed alliances that keep our pack safe, my mate and I must find Wulfe—and hope he’s still alive. As alive as a vampire can be, anyway. But Wulfe isn’t the only one who has disappeared. And now there are bodies, too. Has the Harvester returned to the Tri-Cities, reaping souls with his cursed sickle? Or is he just a character from a B horror movie and our enemy is someone else? The farther I follow Wulfe’s trail, the more twisted—and darker—the path becomes. I need to figure out what’s going on before the next body on the ground is mine. Leseprobe 1 "Mercy." Adam peered down at me. His feral, golden eyes held my gaze. Only a few bits of darkness lingered in the bright depths, like bitter chocolate melting in butter. Icy rain dripped from his forehead onto my face, causing me to blink. The gold was worrisome, I thought muzzily, wiping my cheek with a clumsy hand. I should pay attention to the dangerous gold in his eyes. "Pretty," I said. Someone stifled a laugh, but it wasn't Adam. His frown deepened. I had just been . . . well, I couldn't remember exactly, but it had definitely not been lying on the wet ground, icy rain-or possibly very wet snow-sluicing down on my face as I stared up into Adam's wild eyes. I reached up with a hand that didn't want to obey and closed my fist on the collar of his shirt. Though my brain still wasn't tracking quite right, it didn't take much thought to make a connection between the splendid headache that seemed to be centered around my temple and my position on the ground. Something must have hit me hard. I figured I'd be-cold water dripped on my cheek-right as rain in just a minute, but judging by Adam's expression, it might not be soon enough to prevent an explosion. That could be bad. Worse than if Adam merely lost out to his wolf. His usual wolf. The flash memory of the twisted version of a David Cronenberg-inspired movie werewolf worrying at my throat with huge, already bloodstained teeth served to wake me more effectively than the cold water splashing my face from the skies above us had. I sucked in a breath with a sudden surge of adrenaline that seemed to extinguish the last few dark bits of humanity in Adam's eyes even as it left me thinking more clearly. Neither he nor I knew if the vicious monster the witch Elizaveta had cursed him to become when she died was gone or merely biding its time. Adam had warned the pack about the possibility that he could turn into something more dangerous, a monster that he couldn't always control. But in true werewolf fashion, they seemed to look upon it as a new superpower Adam had achieved rather than the terrifying threat it was. They hadn't witnessed it firsthand. After the full moon had come and only Adam's usual wolf form had answered that call, Adam had been relieved. His temper, already easily roused, had continued to be on an even-shorter-than-usual fuse, but I thought that could be attributed to the unusual strain of the past few months. And yet . . . I examined my mate's face for a hint of the monster and saw . . . Adam. He carried the experiences of this past year, and despite the werewolf-bestowe...
