Meet Wyatt. The mysterious brother, the shadowed man, where he rides death follows. He’s always been the hunter…never the hunted.
The first war ground to a halt in the blink of an eye. Wyatt, the most feared and ruthless Fevered fell. His allies scattered to the wind in a single evening of destruction and retribution. Victory, had been within Adam’s grasp, but one Shaman interfered and crippled him.
Nearly five decades have passed since that bloody night, but the feud between brothers–long at an impasse–is about to explode. Though the Fevered have grown in numbers, the war itself is far more perilous because everyone has something to lose and the voice of reason will no longer hold death at bay.
The Fevered have continued to evolve and more powerful are awaking every day. When death rides, his brother will rush to meet him and only one woman will have the power to step into the breach–it is the end of an era and it could be the end of the Fevered.
Thank you Heather for the privilege of an ARC for this fabulous tale.
If you’ve read this series you already know Wyatt is a complicated man. This book reveals everything about him and how he came to be the way he is. Now he has to fulfill his destiny and dispose of his brother while trying to keep everyone he cares about safe.
Then we have Quinn the bounty hunter. She, yes she, has helped keep the McKenna witches alive and out of the clutches of MacPherson. However, since they are now under the protection of the Kane and Morningstar families, she will have to prove she is trustworthy. There’s not a lot of trust from the fevered and their families with someone they believe to be a hunter and assassin.
This is a favorite scene when Quinn and Wyatt clash for the first time.
“I don’t see anything.” The hiss of Julianna’s whisper floated through air. Her horse stomped its foot and the jingle of a bridle overlaid the sound. Closing them out of her mind, Quinn tuned her senses to the world around her. The cold wind blowing from the north, the hint of wood smoke kissing the moisture on the breeze, and the faint dustiness of the land, leached of water and life as it began to settle into winter slumber. They hadn’t had snow this far south, yet. It was only a matter of time. The harsh winter conditions farther north would aid her in making Julianna disappear again, dissuade those who tracked them…
…a rock crunched. Booted steps approached. The shadow coalesced into a single figure moving toward her with absolute purpose. Snapping her rifle up, she sighted on the hell coming for them. Another twenty feet and he’d be in range. Her finger hovered a whisper away from the trigger. Exhaling in between her heartbeats, she slowed her pulse and released her tension.
Her heart thudded.
The world narrowed.
She brushed her forefinger to the trigger. Locked on the center of the mass, she would fire two shots. Then switch to the pistol.
The rifle jerked from her hand, the leather strap around her arm hauling her forward a dozen feet before it snapped. Power lashed at her, hooking around her arms and legs to slam her into the earth. Not fighting the pull, she let the power drag her across the land and lifted her head to avoid the rocks. Tasting the flavor of it, she let the black maw within her open as she arrived at the shadow. Consuming the power lashing her, it flowed into her like a deadly stream shattering its dam.
The brunt stunned her, but she lifted her legs as she came to a halt and slammed them forward into the man waiting for her. The concussive force thrust him backward. His grunt satisfied her and then power washed over her again, ready for it this time, she fed it to the maw and let it flow into her. The charge reverberated through her system and she struck forward, slamming her fist into his jaw.
The blow took his hat off and the setting sun cast a burnt orange light against his skin, then illuminated his eyes. One blue. One green. All impossible.
MacPherson could not be in Dorado.
Powerful arms seized her and she slammed her elbow down onto the soft place where his forearm joined his biceps. Twisting, she cut her leg between his intending to throw him. Instead, he blocked her leg, then she found herself flying through the air. With more luck than finesse, she slammed into the dirt on her shoulder and rolled until she was on her feet again. Her hat flew off and she pivoted to find the shadow man advancing on her.
Their positions reversed, the sun was behind him. Another blast of power vised around her, then sank inside as the maw absorbed it.
“They want you alive.” The words came out like rocks ground together, hard and unyielding. “I’m trying not to hurt you.”
Since when had MacPherson ever cared what anyone else wanted? Damn near drunk from feasting on his power, Quinn allowed herself a small smile. “Can’t say I’m going to do the same for you.”
Her rifle lay on the land between them. It would be a mistake to go for it. Though she devoured the power he tried to contain her with, he didn’t waver on his feet. Impossibility layered upon impossibility.
“Save it.” She cut him off with a slice of her hand through the air. Freeing the blade from her forearm sheath, she drew out the four-inch long knife. It wasn’t a sword, but it would do. “You and I go too far back to play this game. You can’t take me down with your power, and you know it. Where are your lapdogs?” He never went anywhere without his little collective. He gathered Fevered to him, persuading them to work for him and follow him blindly.
She should have killed the Kanes when she had the chance. It never occurred to her they’d already fallen into the abyss of his service.
“I don’t have any.” He came toward her again. “Put away the knife before I take it from you.”
She’d always been tall, as tall as most men, and it helped her to pass as one of them. MacPherson edged her in height, but today he seemed to tower over her. A trick of the light, and she did her best to ignore it. “You shouldn’t have come for them personally. Without your army, you’re one man and I can kill one man.”
Instead of responding to her taunt, he merely sighed. At his lunge, she struck but even though her blade bit into the flesh of his shoulder, he didn’t slow. His power flooded her and she consumed it but like the barren earth pounded by too much rain it seemed to overflow and spill around her. Then he had her shirt and his fist drew back.
Yanking her head to the side, she narrowly avoided the punch to the face. Instead his fist slammed into her shoulder. The impact rattled her bones, pain flared along her side. Twisting the knife, she dug it deeper into his flesh. If she had to eviscerate him, then she would. He grasped her wrist and the harder she tried to gouge him the more he resisted.
“Woman.” Death licked the pair of syllables, but she refused and used the stolen power to amplify. The blade turned in his flesh, yet all it seemed to accomplish was piss him off. “Dammit.” Then he wrenched her wrist and the bones snapped. Pain flared along her arm, shattering her concentration. He flung her backward and she bruised her hip in the landing.
The wind redoubled, and dark clouds began to pour in. Where they collided lightning bounced then sliced toward the earth. “No Julianna,” she hissed between clenched teeth and fought her way to her feet. The witch had given up her cloak and though her horse bucked against approaching MacPherson, she prepared a fatal spell. The incantation poured from her and her eyes glowed.
Turning toward the new threat, the man raised his hand. Not giving him a chance to lash out with his seemingly unstoppable well of power, Quinn lunged at him. She’d never taken killing lightly and consuming a Fevered’s full ability could leave her humming for weeks, but she had to risk it.
Julianna was too important.
Landing on the big man’s back, she staggered him with her weight and he went to one knee. Then she ended up flat on her back staring up at him. He had a knife to her throat and she had one to his groin. Fury kindled within her. “You might survive the blood loss, but you won’t be intact when you do.”
“Who the hell are you?” His hard as nails voice berated her. Lightning struck the ground next to him, but he didn’t flinch. “Witch, swallow that next spell or I will kill her and the Kanes can deal with disappointment.”
Ozone scorched the air and the press of cold steel rested against her flesh. Quinn didn’t let go of the knife at his groin. He may have broken her dominant left hand, but she could still wound him so deeply no endless lives would repair.
Julianna’s chanting stopped. “Release her and I’ll go with you.”
“I don’t want you.” The response startled Quinn.
“You don’t?” Her question echoed Julianna’s.
Her captor glared down at her. “No. I don’t—you however—you’re a different problem.”
Shock disrupted her focus, and he took advantage of the moment to shift the blade from her throat before slamming the pommel against her head. Pain sundered her skull, rending her next thoughts and blackness curtained her.
Heather Long. A Man Called Wyatt (Kindle Locations 623-680). Kindle Edition.
From here the story just gets more enthralling. I equate reading this to peeling an onion as layer upon layer of Wyatt’s story unfolds.
Captivating and full of revelations, insights and action. Do not miss this book!
5 Contented Purrs for Heather!
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USA Today bestselling author, Heather Long, likes long walks in the park, science fiction, superheroes, Marines, and men who aren’t douche bags. Her books are filled with heroes and heroines tangled in romance as hot as Texas in the summertime.
From paranormal historical westerns to contemporary military romance, Heather might switch genres, but one thing is true in all of her stories–her characters drive the books.
When she’s not wrangling her menagerie of animals, she devotes her time to family and friends she considers family. She believes if you like your heroes so real you could lick the grit off their chest, and your heroines so likable, you’re sure you’ve been friends with women just like them, you’ll enjoy her worlds as much as she does.