Not again.

Clutching his left shoulder, he labored to push himself to an upright position. Blood seeped through his T-shirt, turned it bright red inch by inch, and soaked his hand.

Crap. This better not be some idiot cleaning his gun while it’s still loaded.

Pain exploded in his right thigh, and he howled in agony. Moisture leaked from the corner of his eyes as he panted, fighting to stay conscious. No. Not him. The victim.

Black out, man. Black out if you want to survive. Play dead or he’ll shoot you until you are.

Rush closed his eyes and tried to slow his breathing. His heart pounded hard enough to shake his entire body as it thumped in his ear, growing louder and louder until it drowned out all other sound.

Psychic pain sucks. Why couldn’t he get visions instead like a normal abnormal person?

COMING SOON - Book 3: Grave Keeper: Lucifer in Starlight

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