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Über dieses Produkt
- KurzbeschreibungSydney Sage is an Alchemist, one of a group of humans who dabble in magic and serve to bridge the worlds of humans and vampires. They protect vampire secrets-and human lives.<br>In The Fiery Heart , Sydney risked everything to follow her gut, walking a dangerous line to keep her feelings hidden from the Alchemists.<br>Now in the aftermath of an event that ripped their world apart, Sydney and Adrian struggle to pick up the pieces and find their way back to each other. But first, they have to survive.<br>For Sydney, trapped and surrounded by adversaries, life becomes a daily struggle to hold on to her identity and the memories of those she loves. Meanwhile, Adrian clings to hope in the face of those who tell him Sydney is a lost cause, but the battle proves daunting as old demons and new temptations begin to seize hold of him. . . .<br>Their worst fears now a chilling reality, Sydney and Adrian face their darkest hour in this heart-pounding fifth installment in the New York Times bestselling Bloodlines series, where all bets are off.
- AutorRichelle Mead
- Seiten416 Seiten
- Gewicht363 g
- LeseprobeSYDNEY<br>I WOKE TO DARKNESS.<br>This was nothing new, as I'd been waking to darkness for the last . . . well, I didn't know how many days. It could've been weeks or even months. I'd lost track of time in this small, cold cell, with only a rough stone floor for a bed. My captors kept me awake or asleep, at their discretion, with the help of some drug that made it impossible to count the days. For a while, I'd been certain they were slipping it to me in my food or water, so I'd gone on a hunger strike. The only thing that had accomplished was a forced feeding-something I never, ever wanted to experience again-and no escape from the drug. I'd finally realized they were piping it in through the ventilation system, and unlike with food, I couldn't go on an air strike.<br>For a while, I'd had the fanciful idea that I'd track time with my menstrual cycle, the way that women in primitive societies synced themselves up to the moon. My captors, proponents of cleanliness and efficiency, had even provided feminine hygiene products for when the time came. That plan failed as well, though. Being abruptly cut off from birth control pills at the time of my capture reset all my hormones and spun my body into irregular cycles that made it impossible to measure anything, especially when combined with my wacky sleep schedule. The only thing I could be certain of was that I wasn't pregnant, which was a huge relief. If I'd had Adrian's child to worry about, the Alchemists would've had unlimited power over me. But it was just me in this body, and I could take whatever they threw at me. Hunger, cold. It didn't matter. I refused to let them break me.<br>"Have you thought about your sins, Sydney?"<br>The metallic, female voice reverberated around the small cell, seeming to come from every direction at once. I pulled myself up into a sitting position, tugging my rough shift down over my knees. It was more out of habit than anything else. The sleeveless garment was so paper thin that it offered no warmth whatsoever. The only thing it provided was a psychological sense of modesty. They'd given it to me partway through my captivity, claiming it was a token of goodwill. In reality, I think the Alchemists just couldn't handle keeping me there naked, especially when they saw it wasn't getting to me the way they'd hoped.<br>"I slept," I said, stifling a yawn. "No time to think." The drug in the air seemed to keep me perpetually sleepy, but they were also sending in some stimulant that made sure I stayed awake when they wanted, no matter how exhausted I might be. The result was that I never felt fully rested-as was their intent. Psychological warfare worked best when the mind was weary.<br>"Did you dream?" the voice asked. "Did you dream of redemption? Did you dream of what it might be like to see the light again?"<br>"You know I didn't." I was being uncharacteristically talkative today. They asked me these questions all the time, and sometimes I just stayed silent. "But if you want to stop feeding me that sedative for a while, maybe I'll get some real sleep and have some dreams that we can chat about."<br>More importantly, getting real sleep that was free of these drugs meant that Adrian would be able to locate me in my dreams and help me find a way out of this hellhole.<br>Adrian.<br>His name alone had gotten me through many long, dark hours. Thoughts of him, of our past and of our future, were what had helped me survive my present. I often lost myself in daydreams, thinking back to the handful of months we'd had together. Had it really been so short? Nothing else in my nineteen years seemed as vivid or meaningful as the time I'd spent with him. My days were consumed with thoughts of him. I would replay each precious memory, the joyous and the heartbreaking, and when I'd exhausted them, I'd fantasize about the future. I'd live out all the possible scenarios we'd imagined for ourselves, all our silly "escape
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