Up from the Grave by Jeaniene Frost
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
“The next person that shoots at my wife gets his gun shoved up his arse,” Bones snapped. Then he waved his hand at a large file cabinet against the wall.
“Come out.”
***
“Hurry up, Denise!” I yelled into the com. Then I began to gather up M-4s that had the most ammo left before pausing to pull a Kevlar vest off a dead guard. Much more manageable than taking his body with me.
“I repeat, situation critical!” screamed the panicked voice through the com. “Hostile sighted and . . . oh God. What is that? WHAT IS THAT?”
***
“Fuck you,” flew out of my mouth before I realized that (a) I seriously needed to watch my language now, and (b) diplomacy would be the better tactic. I might be able to wipe the floor with them if I utilized my borrowed powers, but we were trying to prevent a war, not start one.
“Um, I meant fudge sticks,” I backtracked quickly, ”
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