Grave Vengeance (23 page)

“Are your neighbors home?” Gwen asked.

“The woman living in the back is always around,” Sarah said as she rubbed her temples. “I think she’s retired. The apartment on this side has been vacant for a couple months.”

Perfect. Gwen grabbed the bat and strode to the far wall by the dining room table. She pushed the chairs and table out of her way, and then tapped the wall lightly with the backs of her knuckles.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking for the support beam.” She continued to tap, listening for the change in pitch. “Ah, there it is.” Satisfied she’d found the stud, she took aim about a foot to the right, cocked back the bat, and swung at the wall.

“Holy crap, are you crazy?” Sarah’s voice jumped as she shot up from the couch.

“No, I’m making an emergency exit.” Another swing and a plume of drywall dust filled the air.

“Aw hell, there goes our deposit.”

Gwen hacked at the wall until she’d knocked out a section just large enough for them to fit. The neighboring vacant apartment was visible through the hole, all beige carpets and off-white walls. “Come on, let’s go!”

Bat in hand, Gwen squeezed through the little hole first. Sarah followed close behind, her hair and clothes dusted with bits of drywall. Once through, they made a beeline for the front door. Quietly, they crept down the stairs and took off down the walkway at the back of the building.

“Where should we go?” Sarah whispered as she brushed pieces of drywall from her hair.

“You’re asking
me
?” Nerves jumping, Gwen quickly surveyed their surroundings. All of the landscaping in the area was neatly trimmed back, giving them nowhere to hide. They needed to find a safe place to hole up where they could also contact the guys. Dmitri might not have his phone, but David did. She’d seen him put it in his back pocket. “You know this place better than I do. Where can we find a landline?”

Sarah chewed on her bottom lip. Her eyes still looked a little glassy from messing with the reapers’ minds. “The leasing office has one,” she finally said. “This way.”

D
mitri followed David into Gilson’s Bar, his eyes adjusting to the low light as they made their way to a table near the dartboards.

A haze of cigarette smoke hung in the air, so thick he couldn’t see the back of the room. An old guy was hunched over the bar, nursing his beer, while a pair of bikers shot a game of eight ball. The place was a dive, but it was a dive with character, and Dmitri immediately felt at home.

“So what’s so damn important?” David asked over the sound of Lynyrd Skynyrd. He claimed the seat that backed against the wall, his posture tense, his gaze guarded. Not that Dmitri blamed him. In spite of the years they’d worked together, they’d never been particularly close. From day one, Dmitri had railed against taking orders from a former sergeant of the U.S. Army, resulting in years of friction.

Where to begin, Dmitri thought. He’d never been the type to talk about his feelings, but he needed another man’s perspective. In the end, he started at the beginning, and it took two rounds of Samuel Adams before he finally finished.

“Wow, that’s some story you got there,” David said once Dmitri stopped talking. He picked at the label on his beer bottle. “Grandpa Dmitri, eh?”

Dmitri’s temper spiked. “Shit’s not funny.”

“I never said it was.” David swallowed a swig of his beer and set the bottle on the table. He leaned back against the chair and folded his arms across his chest. “Actually, I think you’re pretty fucking lucky.”

He had to be kidding. Dmitri paused, his own beer halfway to his mouth. “And what brought you to that conclusion?”

David looked at him as if the answer was obvious. “How many reapers get the chance to see how their family’s doing?”

Few to none. Contact with anyone from your mortal lifetime was strictly forbidden. He’d jumped on Adam plenty of times for checking up on his family. It took the kid the better part of two years before he finally gave up and moved on with his life.

“You have a son, Dmitri,” David continued, a sense of amazement in his voice. “A son! And how many grandkids?”

“Three. All boys.”

David’s eyebrows rose. “Jesus Fucking Christ. Do the poor bastards look like you?”

Yes, they did, and the fact made him prouder than words could ever express. “They’ve been blessed with strong Russian genes.”

“I hope it doesn’t mean they also got that Russian nose.” David barked out a laugh when Dmitri flipped him the bird. “Relax, comrade, I’m just giving you shit. Jeez, you’re getting touchy in your old age.”

Dmitri scowled. “Forgive me if I fail to find humor in the situation.”

David paused long enough to signal the waitress for another round. “I know it’s not in your nature, but try to look on the bright side. You have a son who was raised right by his mother. That boy grew up to be a good man, and that man raised three sons of his own. No matter how you look at it, that’s something to be proud of.”

“But I missed it all.” And that churned in his gut like broken glass.

“Yeah,” David said, his enthusiasm dimming. “That’s true, and it sucks, and I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say to make you feel better, but you can’t let this keep eating at you. If you do, it’ll poison everything you have with Gwen.”

Dmitri fell silent as he nursed his beer. Yes, he cared for Gwen. A lot. Maybe even loved her. Hell, he’d told her as much the day before. But that changed the second he learned about his son. It was one thing to keep him from finding Elena. But his child? That added a whole new dimension to the betrayal.

“Gwen should have told me,” he finally said, and all of the pain bubbled to the surface.

“Ah, so that’s what this is all about.” David shook his head as he muttered something too low for Dmitri to hear. “Why the hell did you think she’d tell you? You’ve treated her like shit from the get-go.”

Dmitri opened his mouth to speak, but David cut him off.

“Look, we’ve butted heads a lot over the years, so I’m not going to pretend we’re buddies. But you’re a damn good reaper, and because of that I’m going to give you some advice. If you want any kind of future with her, you’ve got to dump all that anger.”

“Easier said than done.”

David pinned him with a level stare, and those pale gray eyes seemed to bore right through him. “Do you love her?”

He tried to deny it but the words lodged in his throat, so he just nodded.

“Then the way I see it, you’ve got two choices. You can either accept what happened and move on, or let it eat at you until the day you die. You forgave Elena, didn’t you?”

Dmitri shrugged. “Yes.”

“Well, then. If you found a way to let Elena off the hook, you can do the same for Gwen. She’s a damn good woman, and she deserves a second chance. Or would you rather wallow in hatred for the rest of your life?” David peeled a strip of the label from his bottle and dropped it onto the table. “Healing doesn’t mean the damage never happened. It means you’ve stopped letting it control you.” He clapped a hand to Dmitri’s shoulder as he rose from his seat. “Think about it. I’ve gotta hit the head.”

Beer in hand, Dmitri slumped back in his chair, stewing over David’s advice.

Was he ready to take a chance with Gwen? He loved her, yes, but he didn’t know if he could trust another woman with his heart. Because if he trusted her and she betrayed him again, he didn’t think he’d ever recover.

He thought about the way Gwen made him feel, and the knot in his chest loosened. Her soul called out to him in a way that he’d never experienced with any other woman. In many ways, they were two halves of the same whole. Their connection was undeniable, and with the realization, his anger began to subside.

He loved her.

He wanted her.

Most important, he needed her.

“Figure it all out?” David asked when he returned from the restroom and reclaimed his seat.

“Yeah. Thanks for getting my head out of my ass.”

“No problem. It’s one of my many talents.” David paused, the bottle of beer halfway to his mouth, the planes of his face drawing tight. After setting the bottle back on the table, he pulled his phone from his back pocket and dialed. “Something’s wrong. We’ve got to get back.”

“Why, what is it?”

“I have no idea, but Sarah’s in trouble.”

Unease skittered down Dmitri’s spine. If Sarah was in trouble, that meant Gwen was as well. “How do you know?”

David shot him an uncomfortable look. He glanced in both directions as if making sure no one was close enough to overhear. “Fate bound our souls when Sarah came back as a reaper. It made us”—he made a vague gesture with his hand—“in tune with each other’s emotions.”

In all his years as a reaper, Dmitri had never heard of such a thing. “What, like some kind of bat signal?”

“I’m fucking serious, asshole.” David’s hands flexed as he stood. He shoved his hand into his pants pocket and pulled out his keys. “Something’s got her scared, and she’s not the kind of person who frightens easily.”

And neither was David. In all the years they’d worked together, Dmitri had never seen him this edgy. But the hardened soldier appeared genuinely unhinged, and that set Dmitri’s nerves on edge.

Dmitri opened his wallet and tossed two twenties on the table. Whatever was wrong, they’d handle it, and then he’d set things right with Gwen. “All right, let’s move.”

 

Sarah and Gwen wove a path between buildings and around a small retention pond. At this time of day, a lot of people were at work, which might explain why no one answered any of the doors they’d knocked on. They’d also struck out at the front office, where a sign on the door said they were out showing an apartment and would return soon. So far, they’d managed to evade the other reapers, but who knew how long their luck would hold. If they could make it to the shopping center right outside the apartment complex, they could blend in with the mortal crowd and use one of the store’s landlines to contact the guys.

Sarah paused at the edge of a building and peered around the corner. “It’s clear.”

Together, they darted across the space between units and sprinted along the rear of a three-story building. A six-foot wall flanked the outer perimeter, the concrete covered with thick jasmine vines. Just beyond the building were the community mailboxes, and past that was the front entrance.

They’d covered less than half the distance when two reapers rounded the corner and blocked their escape. In a panic, they turned, only to find another reaper standing about ten feet behind them.

Gwen twisted her head from side to side, assessing the immediate threats. The two men didn’t look very tough, but the big, beefy guy behind them was built like a tank. She tightened her grip around the bat, ready to smack whoever made the first move.

“You’re only delaying the inevitable,” the tank said. A jagged scar marred the right side of his face, and when he scowled, it puckered around the edges. He stepped forward, and Gwen cocked the bat back. “If you come with us now, you won’t get hurt.”

“I don’t think so.” Gwen cast a quick glance in Sarah’s direction. Lowering her voice, she said, “Run when I start swinging.”

Sarah’s eyes popped wide. “You can’t be serious.”

The tank lunged for Sarah, and Gwen slugged him in the kneecap with the bat. There was a sickening crunch, and then the tank let out a howl as he clutched his knee and dropped to the ground.

“Run, dammit!” Gwen yelled at Sarah before charging toward the other two reapers. With a grunt, she swung at the taller one. When he reached up to block the blow, she let go of the bat and punched him square in the throat. He staggered back, choking for air, and tripped over his own two feet.

The shorter reaper grabbed Gwen from behind and threw her against the wall. The back of her head smacked the stucco, and pain stabbed through her skull like an ice pick. Her vision blurred, and before it cleared he grabbed her again, his hands wrapping around her windpipe. He pulled her back from the wall and slammed her against it again, and what little air she had left whooshed from her lungs.

Gasping, she clawed at his hands. Seconds ticked by as she kicked and thrashed, desperate to break his hold. Her throat was on fire, her lungs burning from the lack of oxygen. If she didn’t break his hold soon, she’d lose consciousness.

A sneer pulled the reaper’s lips away from his teeth. “Not so tough now, are you, bitch?” As her strength faded, his grasp tightened, and her sight grew blurry around the edges.

A veil of darkness blanketed her vision when she heard a loud thud. The grip around her neck released, and then Sarah’s worried face flooded her vision.

“Are you okay?” Sarah’s eyes pinched tight with worry. The side of her face was red and puffy, as if someone had belted her there.

“I . . . I’m—” She shook her head. “Why are you still here?”

“You were outnumbered three to one. Did you honestly expect me to abandon you?”

“Yes!”

“Guess again. I don’t bail on my friends.”

“Look, I appreciate the sentiment, but you’ve gotta—duck!”

She shoved Sarah aside and dodged the smaller reaper’s fist. The punch hit stucco, and the reaper screamed, “Shit!” Gwen stomped on his instep and then kicked him in the nuts like she was punting a football. His eyes bulged, and he let out a groan before crumpling to the ground.

“Come on, let’s get out of—”

Her mouth dropped open in a silent scream when two prongs pierced her side and about a million volts of electricity shot through her body. All of her muscles seized, she lost her balance, and she crashed like a drunk to the grass.

“Hit the bitch again,” a voice said in her periphery, right before another round of juice pulsed through her.

The Taser cut off about thirty seconds later, but it felt like it had gone on for an hour. As soon as the electricity shut off, rough hands grabbed her on either side and hauled her up from the ground. She tried to fight, but her muscles felt weaker than wet noodles.

“Where’d the other one go?” the taller reaper asked. This close, she could tell he’d been smoking menthols, and she almost gagged at the smell.

“Who gives a shit where she went?” That was the little one, still cradling the family jewels. “We got the one Patrick wanted.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” The taller reaper scooped her up in his arms. “Come on, we better get out of here before somebody calls the cops.”