Free Grave Vengeance by Lori Sjoberg

vehicle, a newer-model white Hyundai sedan, with its crumpled hood and steam rising from the radiator. It wasn’t going anywhere without the aid of a tow truck, and who knew how long it would take for one to arrive. A middle-aged man with a receding hairline sat on the passenger side, a nervous expression plastered on his face.
    The guy seemed oddly familiar, but she couldn’t quite put a finger on where she’d seen him before. Years had passed since she last visited this part of the country, so she doubted it was anyone she—
    Wait a minute. Now she remembered him. He was none other than Tommy Cooper, one of the missing reapers from the Charleston crew. Patrick must have taught him how to mask his life force, because try as she might, she couldn’t detect his immortal signature. And if he was here, then the collision was certainly no accident. She bet they’d intentionally rammed Dmitri’s car along the quiet stretch of highway.
    Warning bells went off inside her head. She sprang from the Challenger at the same time Tommy stepped out of the battered car. Eyes focused squarely on Dmitri, he pulled a snub-nosed revolver from the waistband of his pants and aimed it in Dmitri’s direction.
    “Gun!” she shouted as she sprinted toward the gap between cars. Too bad her own gun was locked in the trunk with her bag. If she were armed, she could put Tommy out of commission before he got the chance to fire a single shot.
    Time slowed, or at least it seemed that way. Gwen tried to knock Dmitri out of the way as Tommy squeezed the trigger. A bolt of pain ripped through her upper body as the bullet pierced her skin and spun her around. Off balance, she stumbled to the ground, her mind not registering the pain of her knees skidding against the asphalt.
    In her periphery, a second shot rang out, and then she heard the sounds of a scuffle. A whimper rose in her throat as she pushed herself off the pavement. It hurt to sit. Hurt to breathe. Her shoulder throbbed, and her right arm was completely numb. She gritted her teeth, ignoring the pain as she scooted toward the passenger side of the crumpled car. Peeking around the front quarter panel, she found no sign of Tommy. That was a relief. Getting shot in the head would have really ruined her day.
    Another shot, and the scent of gunpowder tinged the air. Someone grunted and cursed. She needed to get to Dmitri and fast. Two against one, with at least one of them armed, wasn’t exactly fair in her book. Like it or not, he needed backup if he stood any chance of—
    “There you are,” Dmitri said from behind, and she nearly let out a shriek. His clothes were scuffed, his lower lip was bleeding, and a bruise darkened the skin below his left eye, but otherwise he appeared okay. Tommy’s gun was in his right hand. He kneeled down beside her, his expression grim as he looked her over. “You’ve lost a lot of blood. Can you walk?”
    “Yeah.” She nodded and felt a little woozy.
    “Good. Get in the car while I finish with these two.”
    “What are you going to do to them?”
    Something dark and primal flashed across his features as he stuffed Tommy’s gun in the waistband of his jeans. “Nothing for you to worry about. Now get your ass in the car. I’ll be there in a minute.” He stood, and then he was gone.
     
    What a clusterfuck.
    The trap was so obvious he should have seen it a mile away. Even worse, Gwen got shot because of his carelessness, the second time he’d caused her injury in less than twenty-four hours. As a reaper she was sure to survive, but the fact failed to ease his conscience.
    Ignoring the dented bumper and the broken brake light, he slammed the trunk a little harder than necessary and got back into the car.
    Eyes closed and jaw clenched, Gwen sat on the front passenger seat. Blood stained her shirt at the shoulder and trailed down her arm. Her chest rose and fell with each shallow pant, and a light sheen of sweat covered her forehead.
    “Apply pressure to