Revenant's Kiss (Chronicles of the Afterlife) by Joyce Robles

she could bring light with her into the dark, she had
grown used to the dark, it didn’t change the fact that she missed the light. But you couldn’t take light
with you because it was just another friendly way of letting your enemy know exactly where you were.
Not to mention it wasn’t likely to help you see anything you needed to until it was in your face anyway.
So it was just best to keep your eyes peeled, her night vision was probably better than most peoples
just because she spent so much time out in the dark without a light. Manson’s was the same, it wasn’t
something that anybody was born with it was just something that you had to work on. Manson didn’t
move so she figured that he wanted her to take lead, she usually did. Something about the whole night
just didn’t feel right, Manson always covered her rear without question. She was aware that they were
a few men less than they had been the night before, that certainly added to the feeling, but she knew
without a doubt that there was more to it than that, everything felt off.
                 She took a second to shake out her shoulders, trying to clear her head. Her thoughts were all
over the place and that was the last thing she needed right now. She needed her head clear, she
suspected that her feeling of unease was because she was afraid. It wouldn’t be the first time that she’d
gone into the dark to face monsters with terror coursing through her but most of the time the emotion
left her on edge, ready to shoot at any shadow that jumped. She preferred to hold to anger when she
went into a place without light. She had plenty of anger, now especially with Clive in the hospital and
Quincy dead. She knew what this guy was capable of, she’d seen him rip Quincy to pieces. But with
as angry as that knowledge made her there was still fear beneath the surface, she failed to see how
there wouldn’t be, not after she’d failed so completely in her first encounter with this vampire. She was
afraid that she would get Manson killed too, more scared of that than angry for what had already
happened because of her failings.
                 ‘Clear your head, you don’t have to fear for your friend he can handle himself. If he
couldn’t he’d already be dead. It would have happened a long time ago.’
                 Jennifer’s heart stopped for a moment, that sure as hell hadn’t been her conscience. It had
been a very soft very comforting in it’s southern cadence, male voice in her head. Despite the fact that
she should have been scared shitless her shoulders relaxed.
                 ‘Take a breath and go do what needs to be done.’
                 For a moment Jennifer stood stock still debating the merits of screaming at the top of her lungs
and falling into a fit of madness. That was what this was wasn’t it? She was hearing voices, not her
own, not her thoughts, but then she remembered the world she lived in and pushed the thought aside.
Someone else was in her head, she knew well enough without a doubt it could be done, had
experienced a case of it that had nearly led to her death. This wasn’t any different, only it seemed this
voice was trying to do the opposite. Besides she didn’t think that screaming like a girl was going to get
her many brownie points with Manson, not when they were on a hunt. There was a voice in her head,
she would deal with it when this was done and over, until then she would ignore it. Feeling more than
insecure at the moment instead of pulling the Beretta from her hip she shrugged the Remington from
over her shoulder. The movement caused a spike of pain to surge through her shoulder and down her
arm. Her fingers went numb but she clenched her teeth and forced her fingers to grip the Remington
rather than let it slip from her fingers. Without pause she brought a round into the chamber, but just the
simple motion caused another spike of pain and she realized with