Even Deader
an excerpt

"Fore!" Burt the Really Big yelled as the bloodwolf went sailing overhead.
"Actually, that makes seven," Malachai counted. "Any left for me?"
"Doesn't appear like," the giant warrior surveyed the furry wreckage. "Friend Dren is not in the mood for sharing today!"
"Sorry!" Ranger Dren/Alec Livingston shouted as he pulled his broadsword from the lupine corpse.
"No, you're not," Praetus/Sam Warren said.
"You're right, I'm not," the Inspector-turned-Gamer admitted. "Anything more for me to kill?"
"You and Burt did a pretty thorough job on this lot." Malachai the Magus shook his head. "We'll have to go farther into the Forest of Damnation if you want some more opponents. Is that what you'd like to do?"
Dren/Livingston nodded.
"You're not usually the bloodthirsty one of us," Burt the Really Big/Mike McGraw grimaced. "Trouble at home?"
"Trouble at work," the Ranger muttered, wiping his sword. "Hannah's fine."
The other Gamers heaved sighs of relief.
"Is that what you all thought?" Dren/Livingston asked in non-mock horror, "That Hannah and I were fighting?"
"Well you wouldn't be the first Gamer in Alterra to take marital problems out on the creatures," Praetus shrugged.
"S'right," Burt the Really Big added. "That time Derek the Dreadful's wife left him for a younger bloke, there wasn't a centaur left near the Beach of Despair for months."
"I would never leave Hannah!" the Ranger swore. "Never!"
"Good damn thing too," Burt reached down and patted Dren on the head. "That way I don't have to drive you into the ground like a tent spike!"
"And I don't have to blast you into ash with magik," Malachai/Baruch grinned.
Praetus/Sam did not make any threats himself. The Roma Novan Gamer just winked at the Ranger and chuckled menacingly.
"It's good to be among friends," Dren laughed. "I'll be sure to tell Hannah you're all watching out for her best interests."
"Hey, we're your friends too, mate!" Burt exclaimed. "The group that slays together stays together!"
"So what's the problem at Scotland Yard?" Praetus asked.
"Not at the Yard itself. At our dear cousins across the way - and I'd rather not talk about it."
Praetus cocked a curious eyebrow. No doubt he knew exactly who Scotland Yard's `dear cousins across the way' were, but he said nothing. Probably making notes to take to his boss, Ranger Dren/Livingston thought. Well if David Lark decides to give MI-5 a headache, all the better. They'd certainly earned it.
For a moment, looking around and getting his mind back in the Game, Livingston felt guilty being here without his wife at his side. Slaughtered bloodwolves, haunted forests filled with violent creatures - just the sort of things she loved. How wrong that he was keeping it all to himself. Or almost all. If Burt the Really Big hadn't been quick to use his longer reach during the attack, no one else would have gotten in a kill except the group's Ranger. But the monster massacre had not succeeded in wiping the bad taste from his mouth at the previous day's events. He couldn't help but wonder what was happening to Rob Bowler, and the part he'd unwittingly played in the whole affair still made him feel sick. Even racking up points in the Alterra Game was no consolation. He was Partner Poison.
At that moment, Dren/Livingston looked up and saw Malachai the Magus leveling a spell staff straight in his direction. He ducked just as a magik bolt flew past his head and exploded the giant bat that had been flapping out of the woods behind him.
"Look alive, fellows!" the spellcaster smiled. "We have some more company!"