Immortal Guardians Book 6
(Can be read as a stand-alone novel.)
A USA Today Bestseller
Barnes and Noble
“[Ethan} boasts the glowing charms of Twilight's Edward Cullen
and the vicious durability of X-Men's Wolverine...
A nice entry point to an expansive saga.”
“Fans of terrific paranormal romance have hit the jackpot
with Duvall and her electrifying series.”
RT Book Reviews
"A wonderful mix of engaging romance and action-packed excitement." Paranormal Kiss
Full of awesome characters, snappy dialogue, exciting action, steamy sex,
sneaky shudder-worthy villains and delightful humor." A Voracious Reader
"Another amazing installment in this series." Kindles & Wine
"Dianne Duvall does an amazing job of blending paranormal, with humour, romance, action, violence to give you a story you won't want to put down." The SubClub Books
The Immortal Guardians protect the innocent in secret. Sometimes the secret gets out...
U.S. law enforcement agent Heather Lane can read minds. But not the future. The dream of battle and blood that recurs every night must be a fluke, some obscure terror from her own mind. What its significance might be, she can't guess: an attack from seven psychotic vampires at once, only separated from nightmare by an eighth very different immortal. A handsome, brave man fighting at her side, a man she misses when she wakes.
Then the dream comes true. Heather is flung into a war between predators and protectors of humanity, the man from her dreams beside her again. Except now that she's awake, she isn't sure she can trust Ethan, or the shadow organization he represents. The U.S. military doesn't trust either of them. But against an onslaught of evil like the one that's coming, it will take everything they have just to survive...
"You look beat," she said, her lips curling up in a sympathetic smile.
He sighed. "I am."
"Me, too. I think all of the adrenaline and fear and everything else has just sucked the energy right out of me. Would you like to try to get some sleep?"
His pulse leapt as images of lying beside Heather filled his mind . . . of turning toward her in bed, pulling her to him, and
"Your eyes are glowing again," she whispered.
He swore and brought a hand to them as if he could rub the damned luminescence out of them. "I'm sorry. I had a fleeting image of lying in bed with you and . . ."
"Oh." Her tone reflected surprise and he couldn't decide what else.
"I know. But I promise I'm not a total degenerate. I'm just tired and seem to have no control over my body when I'm around you." Lowering his hand, he forced himself to meet her gaze and almost did a double take.
A wide smile brightened her features. "That is so cool."
He arched a brow. "What is?"
"I don't have to guess if you're attracted to me because it's all right there in your eyes. And I don't mean in a corny chick-flick kind of way. But in a Bam! in-your-face kind of way. It's like a sexual barometer or a mood ring."
He laughed. "Well, it's not so cool from my perspective, because I can't hide it. You, on the other hand, can, so I have no idea what you think of me."
Her smile softened as she studied him. "I'm attracted to you, too, Ethan. But I'm annoyingly old-fashioned and don't take sex as casually as most of my peers do. Feel free to blame my grandparents. I spent a lot of time around them when I was growing up."
"I'm a century older than you, or thereabouts, so you can't be more old-fashioned than I am." He grimaced. "Hell. I probably shouldn't have mentioned my age, should I?"
"Relax. You don't look a day over sixty."
She burst into laughter and patted his knee. "I'm just kidding. You know you're hot."
Ethan groaned. "You're evil."
"And you're tired. Why don't you sleep for a bit. I signed the confidentiality agreement, so you don't have to worry about me trying to sneak pictures of your fangs or calling all the news outlets while you rest."
Smiling, he shook his head. "And what will you do while I sleep?"
"Find a permanent marker and draw a mustache and bushy eyebrows on your face."
He laughed. "I really like you, Heather."
"I like you, too. So . . . get some sleep. The bedroom is through there."
"What will you do while I rest?"
"Unless I'm called in to observe an interrogation, I'll just read a book. Watch TV." She winked. "Paint my toenails."
"Damn, I hate to miss watching you paint your toenails."
"May I crash here on the sofa beside you?" For some reason, he just wanted to be near her. Perhaps because he knew he would have no excuse to remain with her or to even see her again once the rain began to fall tonight.
She grinned. "Yes, you may crash on my sofa."
Smiling, Ethan tugged off his boots and propped his big feet on her coffee table. Slouching down on the soft cushions, he folded his hands on his stomach and closed his eyes.
The sound of her heartbeat soothed him as her scent followed him into dreams.
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