"P. N. Elrod - Vampire Files 08 - The Dark Sleep" - читать интересную книгу автора (Elrod P N)

stepped between them. I didn't have time to tell him that that was also a bad idea, and if he'd bothered to
think it over he would have agreed with me. Instead, he charged into the thick of things and landed one
solid punch against McCallen's jaw, which wiped most of the grin away. McCallen staggered back a
step, but swiftly came around and went under Escott's guard, catching him in the gut. The force of the
blow knocked him smack into me, and we both went tumbling down. I heard several women screech at
this, but ignored them because the back of my head cracked against a table as I fell.

A verysturdy table.

Suddenly boneless, I dropped the rest of the way to the floor and stayed there, half-blinded by the
intensity of the pain.

Goddamnit, that hurt !

I couldn't do much, only put my hand on the blazing sore spot and curse the pain. Any other man might
have been knocked cold, but no such luck for yours truly. I stayed conscious through the worst of it,
aware of the uproar and gaining another bruise or two as Escott scrambled off me to go after McCallen
again. Too late, through slitted eyes I saw he'd already made it to the front door. He turned and flashed
his teeth, barked a single laugh, then out he dashed to lose himself in the evening crowds.

Escott looked winded, but rounded on Miss Sommerfeld, either to breathlessly reassure her or to
apologize. She didn't give him the chance. She shrieked one more time, embarrassment, anger, and
massive frustration all packed into one short outburst, then tore off in tears for the ladies' room, rubbing
at her mouth with the back of her hand.

He looked down at me, wheezing and a little doubled over from the punch he'd taken. "That didn't go
too terribly well, did it?"

"Uh." I grunted in agreement from the floor. Damn, damn, damn, damn,damn , it hurt.

"Jack? You all right?" he asked, peering at me.

I held the back of my head hard, as though to keep my brains from leaking out, shut my eyes, and tried
not to swear too loud.

"Was it wood?" he continued, not without sympathy.

"Uh."

"Fortunate, that."

"Uh?"

"Were it metal instead, it might have been a bit awkward if you'd disappeared in front of everyone."

At the moment disappearing was one thing I wanted to do, but couldn't. Wood injuries have that effect
on me. It's stupid, but nothing I could do anything about. "What 'bout you?" I asked between one wave
of crashing pain and another.
 "Winded only. Can you stand?" He helped me up, but I was still unsteady. When I staggered against him
I figured out how he'd missed more serious damage. He was wearing his bulletproof vest. He usually did