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

only some panic that her injury must
have been much worse than she’d let herself realize. The weight of the Remington was almost
unbearable for a second and she knew that the Beretta wouldn’t prove much better. As if on cue her
panic was interrupted by that soft commanding voice that wasn’t her own.
                   ‘The arm is fine, remember to breath, think clearly, you still have full mobility of the arm
and you can feel. That’s good, don’t ignore the pain, embrace it, let it drive you. Next time it
won’t be a shock to your system if you don’t try to forget it. It will help you focus if you just
embrace it and let it be a reminder of what you’re doing here. Seven people are dead, more than
that, do what needs to be done.’
                 The calm in the voice helped her clear her vision, which had almost become a haze in her panic,
when she could see clearly again she forced herself to acknowledge the pain so she could put it to some
use. She let the pain feed her anger and the soft voice help to keep her calm. The fact that there was a
voice in her head was insanity but perhaps what made it so insane was the fact that it didn’t bother her
the way it should. The fact that it seemed to be the voice of reason instead of raving at her was part of
what kept her calm. At a moderate pace she started forward, slow enough to scan everything as she
passed. Right now she would have killed to have her M16, it’s loss feeling even more the lost limb than
before.
                 ‘Focus.’
                 Who ever the hell the voice belonged to was right, again, she needed to keep away from
thinking on what she did and didn’t have and just focus on what it was she was doing now. She
scorned herself for having to be reminded by God knows who or what the voice belonged to.
                 ‘Who says I’m not God’
                 Jennifer shook her head, she was tempted to tell the voice whoever he was to go fuck himself.
She could handle herself just fine without his intervention divine or not. Ignoring anything else she
focused on scanning the back alley of the buildings, if you could call it a back alley. Sure it was dark,
but this was at the worst a middle class neighborhood. People didn’t usually say back alley unless they
were in the ghettos somewhere. She didn’t try to explain why, she didn’t have the slightest clue, it
looked like an alley to her. She kept the Remington ready and aimed where ever her eyes scanned.
Despite the dark her eyes caught most of the detail, every color was murky, faded almost to a grey or
black with hints of what color they would have been in light. She was aware that even though she could
see most of her surroundings her eyes were an impairment compared to what her enemy was capable
of. In this line of work she had learned the hard way that if she had any hope of surviving she had to
learn to rely on more than just her eyes, every sense she possessed had to be open. Utilizing her senses
and poring all of her perception out into the dark had kept her alive on more than one occasion.
Manson had taught her a good majority of what she knew that kept her alive when facing monsters.
But knowing how to keep an open mind, how to let her senses wander had been something her father
had taught her and her sisters. It had been one of the things that she’d always remembered and put into
use more than once, she was aware that it wasn’t much of an advantage but she would always take
whatever she could get.
                 She knew as soon as she reached out with her senses that he would be here, this was a similar
location to where they’d found their bad guy the last time, a few buildings away from where he’d killed
his victims. Just sort of standing there, gloating to himself, probably patting himself on the back and
congratulating himself on a job well done. That he’d escaped, and more over that