Immortal Siren – Colleen Gleason

There were sparrow feathers, it seemed, everywhere in the house and in its adjoining tunnels, and he kept anything that could be considered a weapon far from her except when she was forced to entertain. Nor could she could trust any of the servants, for they were all bound to her brother.

She was utterly alone, and felt that loneliness more acutely than she ever had before—now that she realized what it was like to love someone, and now that she had lost hope of finding escape on her own. But if she had nothing else, she had strength and determination: the same characteristics that had helped her become a nearly undefeated swordswoman and had kept her from going mad during the years of rape and molestation. Perhaps that was why Lucifer had chosen her. An iron core beneath a seductive, beautiful woman was a formidable weapon.

And so she looked more closely at her opponents when she faced them. Sometimes, she even allowed one to win, just to remind herself that she could still feel. Pain, pleasure, apprehension…whatever. Just so she could feel. London Chas Woodmore was surrounded by vampirs, which would normally be a convenience rather than a concern, since he was, in fact, a vampir hunter.

And a damn good one at that. Some called those who shared his occupation Venators, but that was a completely different society—in fact, it was an entire family from Italy that spent their lives hunting and slaying the half-demon vampires that had descended from Judas Iscariot. Chas happened to specialize in the hunting and staking of the very different vampirs that originated in Romania, where Vlad Tepes, Count Dracula, had made his own deal with the devil in the late 15th century.

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NO AI TRAINING: Without in any way limiting the author’s [and publisher’s] exclusive rights under copyright, any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies and/or large language models to generate text, or any other medium, is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for the training and development of any generative Al and/or large language models. PUBLISHER’S NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Immortal Saint Copyright 2026 © Colleen Gleason Previously published in under the title The Vampire Narcise by Harlequin Enterprises, and in later versions as Dark Vixen: The Vampire Voss as part of the Draculia Vampire Series 2010, 2014 © Colleen Gleason Cover design by Kim Killion Published by Oliver-Heber Books This title was previously published. 0 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 OceanofPDF.com CONTENTS Prologue I.

Revolution Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 II. Liberty Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 III. Life Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Epilogue Also by Colleen Gleason About the Author Oliver Heber Books OceanofPDF.com H PROLOGUE Romania 1673, The Estate of the Voivoidina of Moldavia e couldn’t take his eyes off her.

She was so beautiful, with her sparkling amethyst-sapphire eyes and swirl of dark hair. Her skin, so pure and perfect, alabaster and rose. Her neck, graceful and slender; her curves, so lush and feminine. And her gowns…he envied her the gowns, too. The slide of silk that would be so blissfully erotic over one’s skin. The brush of fox and mink trimmings, sensual against the belly or cheek, the gentle tug of a train catching along the cobbled stones beneath her slippered feet.

The laces and brocades, the gemstones sewn into the fabric of layer upon layer of skirts, the embroidery and ribbons. The weight of the clothing —it would make one feel like a doll, like a jewel to be coveted. A gift to be unwrapped—like the little nesting blocks he used to play with: from the heavy, beaded and bejeweled overskirts, to the frothy and light chemise and layers of underskirts, to the whale-boned lacings that turned her torso into such a curved, lovely package.

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.

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