Immortal Heat (The Guardians of Dacia Book 1)

Contents

Title Page

Dedication

Note From Author

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Epilogue

About Loni Lynne

Coming Soon

Copyright

Acknowledgments

Immortal Heat

A Guardians of Dacia Novel

 

 

 

 

Loni Lynne

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Loni Lynne Publishing

Dedication

To my amazing family and friends, thank you for all the love and support.

Note from Author

If you are like me at all, I download eBooks like they are candy, especially if they are on sale, even if I don't have time to read them right then. So by the time I have a chance to sit and read I've forgotten what they are about (unless I go back and search for them online). So to avoid delay and get right into the story (time is of an essence for most of us), I'm posting the blurb for
Immortal Heat
,
with a lead in about the series, right here for you to get reacquainted:

The Guardians of Dacia Series

Romania has been called the mystical land of paranormal beings and creatures of the night. Before the Romans conquered their land, Dacia was a mystical land of magic and folk-lore until
 
one man and his army destroyed the closely woven fabric set by the gods between man and beast. Now, cursed by their gods over two thousand years ago, one immortal clan struggles to maintain their private world while still learning to live and protect their human brethren while their enemy seeks power to destroy the new world.
 
But as the clans face extinction, a new generation of Dacian blood emerges to unite the clans once more. The world as they know it may never be the same. 

Immortal Heat

Marilyn Reddlin is eager to explore her adventure working with an esteemed professor on Ancient Dacian History in Romania. But she never gets the chance. Captured for her own safety by a dark haired stranger who can hear her thoughts and set her body on fire, she's taken on a wild adventure of paranormal mystery and intrigue. Usually shy, suddenly she craves the man who captured her body and soul.

After centuries of waiting to repay his friend, Draylon Conier is finally given the opportunity when his friend and clan leader assigns him to keep American, college student, Marilyn Reddlin safe. The task seems easy enough. But Draylon doesn't expect the fiery auburn minx to fight him at every turn and make him wish he didn't have to deny himself of her heated touch.

But Draylon is more than an immortal being. He is the last remaining Zmeu and no woman has been able to survive his unleashed passion and he'll be damned if he destroys Marilyn Reddlin. 

Now it's up to them to figure out who they are and what the truth is behind the clans' interests in Marilyn Reddlin. But will finding out the truth create a new beginning for the immortal people of Dacia or totally destroy their world as they know it?

Want to receive updates on future novels in
The Guardians of Dacia
series? Sign up for my newsletters at http://www.lonilynne.com/mailing-list.html

 

C
hapter One

Mid-January—Timisoara, Romania

The brisk air hit Marilyn Reddlin in the face as she stepped out of the Traian Vuia International Airport terminal into a wintery Timisoara, Romania. She pushed her thick-lensed glasses up on her nose and squinted at her cell phone. The weather app showed thirty-three degrees. Even with her warm woolen pea coat and accessories, she couldn't help but shiver. Not many Americans considered Romania a bucket-list destination. But this was the homeland of her father, a place of mystery and magic steeped in tradition and history. Though never having met her father, Marilyn felt drawn to the country and its folklore.

Flashes of movement danced in her peripheral sight, putting her on edge. Someone was watching her. But who and why here? Blaming it on the paranoia her mother instilled in her at such a young age, she swore she wasn't going to let Diane Reddlin influence her adventure now.

Masculine spiced cologne of rich ambers and smoky musk assaulted her brain. Such a soothing scent. Inhaling involuntarily, she thought perhaps a man passing her in the terminal left his fragrance on her coat? The aroma settled into her brain and she tried to relax. Yet, why did her heart still race? Adrenaline kicked in chasing the sluggishness from her mind. The fine hairs on her arms stood up in awareness, magnetizing her nerves to a painful degree. Didn't her mother warn her of dangers lurking everywhere? She expected to see someone jump out at her. But there wasn't anything out of the ordinary.

People meandered, hailing the buses or cabs waiting for potential customers or going into the terminal to catch their flights. Shaking off the ill-ease, she rolled her suitcase along behind, wanting to get to the safety of the Hotel Elysee where Professor Vamier had her staying for the night.

Her time in Timisoara would be short. Just a brief layover until her flight tomorrow evening. She'd been lucky enough to have Professor Aiden Vamier at the Babes-Bolyar University in Cluj-Napoca, take an interest in her paper on pre-Romanian history. He'd even asked for her to be his work-student for her final semester of her Master's Degree in History.

She rubbed at her neck where stiffness had settled in from the flight. She'd cursed her mother's insistence to have Dr. Jon Johnston prescribe her "relaxants" for her first time flying. She hadn't wanted to be drugged and refused to imbibe until queasy turmoil and sore muscles had her downing a pain pill and muscle relaxer with a can of ginger ale before she even left the tarmac in Newark for her flight to London.

Marilyn had hoped the medication would help. But all they'd done was made her sleepy, leaving her groggy and lethargic. Her sleep patterns were messed up enough without the drugs. She needed to get back on some sort of schedule soon if she was going to work with Professor Vamier.

There it was again, the odd sense of being watched. She didn't want to turn around for fear of someone standing behind her. Worse yet, she didn't want to turn around to find no one there. Pulling her suitcase closer, she patted her coat to make sure her purse was still secure under her wrappings.

"Knock it off, mother. I refuse to be a paranoid-psycho," she said under her breath before closing her eyes and exhaling all of her pent up frustrations. Her mother had battered her with years of being overly protective when all she wanted was to explore life.

Hailing a cab, she asked the driver to take her to the Hotel Elysee. She was anxious to get to Cluj to start her research of Romanian history and antiquities, but she could wait another day and recover from the jet lag she already suffered.

The less than fifty-pound suitcase clunked into the trunk of the cab, weighing down the back of the small vehicle, nearly touching the pavement. Would the car be sturdy enough to carry her to her destination? The cabby grinned at her, showing crooked but gleaming white teeth, his hand out to receive money. He wanted a tip? Perhaps it was customary to tip for taking luggage?

Tentatively, Marilyn placed money into his palm. The cabbie opened her door and waved his hand as if he were a footman to her personal carriage. Bundling her coat around her, she stiffened her spine and held her head up higher to show she knew what she needed to do. Confidence, even if she didn't feel it, would divert trouble elsewhere. Taking one last cautious look around, she slid into the warmth of the vinyl interior.

Buckled in, she waited for the driver. She needed to call her mother. The only way Marilyn managed to convince Diane Reddlin she'd be all right on this trip was to agree to call her when she arrived at each destination.

Knowing her mother the way she did, she would be checking incoming flights at every airport along the scheduled journey. Which she had. London was a battle—she'd taken a few minutes in the ladies room and found a pub that made authentic fish and chips when her phone rang only to have her mother nearly scream at her, trans-continentally, for not calling her upon
immediate
arrival.

Her driver pulled out into traffic without looking. A car horn blared behind them. Marilyn turned to see another cab breaking hard, giving her driver the universal gesture with his middle finger, before peeling into the vacant spot. The cabbie returned the greeting in the rear-view mirror, grinning at her and saying something about 'driving-assholes' from what she could translate. Marilyn only smiled and went to search her coat pocket for her cell phone so she could contact her mother before half the American Embassy and military forces were on the look-out for her.

Diane Reddlin picked up on the first ring.

"Your flight landed at six-ten. You've been on the ground for nearly an hour. What did I tell you about calling me immediately?" her mother badgered her. "That is so irresponsible of you. You do realize I have a meeting first thing tomorrow morning with the federal trade commission. I've been waiting for your call so I can go to bed."

Marilyn sighed. "I'm sorry Mama. I just wanted to make sure I got checked in through immigration, and it took longer than I expected for our luggage to be unloaded."

The cab veered to the right on two wheels, screeching in resistance to the torturous position the small vehicle endured. Marilyn squealed at the sight of cars whizzing by as if getting out of their way. Checking the view out her window, a cacophony of reverberating car horns signaled each other in their race to each personal destination as if their journey was the most important.

Her driver weaved in and out of traffic, like a drunken monkey, yelling the occasional profanity when other cars cut in front of him. Her fear of flying had nothing on her latest fear of Romanian drivers. She clutched the edge of the door and closed her eyes, praying the seatbelt was sturdy enough to hold her in and that she'd arrive at the hotel and not a hospital.

"What's going on, Marilyn? Are you still there?"

"Yes, I'm still here."

"I thought I heard you squeal. Are you hurt? What's wrong?" The panic in her mother's voice was evident. She would be jumping through the phone if she could.

Putting her shattered nerves back together, Marilyn tried to sound normal. "I'm fine, mother. Would you stop worrying?"

"My only daughter is half a world away, vulnerable and I can't do a damn thing about it—and you want me to stop worrying? You should have thought about that before taking this 'Aiden Vamier' up on his offer to study abroad."

"Mom, we've been over this. This trip is important to me."

Another hard right turn had her holding on to her phone and her empty stomach as if willing it to settle would keep her from getting car sick. The driver grinned at her in the rear view mirror. She feigned a small smile and held on to the door, making sure it was in the locked position.

"Why do you need to leave Frederick or the country for that matter? And Romania? Why it's barely out of the threat of communism!"

"That was twenty-five years ago, Mom. Things have changed."

"Not as much as you think." She was silent for a moment. "Your father was never heard from again."

There it was, the real reason for her worry. Marilyn couldn't blame her though. Her father had been an archeologist from Romania, working at the Smithsonian. He'd been sent on a research project to Cluj-Napoca when he went missing in the Hoia Forest, leaving her mother alone, six months pregnant with her.

"This trip will be good for me. I'm embracing the whole woman empowerment thing you've told me about over the years. How I need to find 'me.' Well, that's what I'm trying to do."

She had to take time to find out what she needed in life. She'd just been dumped by the one guy she'd given up everything for. It had been a disaster. This would be a fresh start with her to focus on her career and not a man.

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