Luke checked that Delilah’s beanie with its fake beard was in place, then made sure the exit was actually clear. The disguise, paired with large sunglasses, would do well enough to obscure their faces if any neighborhood security cameras captured their escape, though he doubted any of them would be working with vampires owning a business so close. They’d likely make sure the anything pointed in the area of their night club had been disabled after a convenient glamour augmented conversation with whoever maintained them.
“Ready?”
Delilah nodded. Together pushed the doors open, turned right, and broke into a sprint toward their extraction point.
At the end of the block, he turned the corner when pain exploded across his back and brutally shoved him to the ground. A moment later, he heard the boom of a high caliber gun. He skidded on the sidewalk, the concrete scraping skin off his bare palms. His face burned above his left eye where his brow had landed against the ground and skidded with him.
Delilah slid to a stop and ran back to Luke. “Luke, are you OK? Get up! We got to go…”
Luke could barely make out what she was saying through the fog of shock. “Ger…gerway fro me.” He tried to shove her away from him.
Understanding dawned. She grabbed Luke’s arm and yanked him up and into a stoop leading to a door in the brick wall they were standing next to. Luke feebly assisted her, his legs tripping him as much as shoving his body after her.
“What happened?”
“Gun. Sniper.” Luke’s head was clearing a bit.
“Oh, shit!” She began frantically checking Luke for bullet holes and blood. “I…I don’t see any holes or blood. Did you trip?”
“Armor, I think…”
“It’s bulletproof?” She sounded astonished.
“Magic. Like the swords.” He was having trouble forming complete sentences.
They huddled close to each other, trying to squeeze the bulk of two tall people, one of whom was wearing heavy armor, into the alcove so nothing was in the open. Delilah reached into her coat, pulled out her cell phone, and made a call.
“Change of plans. Pick us up…” She looked around to get her bearings. “Just east of Stumptown. Leave the tailgate down.”
She put the phone back. “Hang on, Luke. Pablo is on his way. Can you move quick enough to get to his truck?”
“Yeah. My head’s clearing a bit. It hit the concrete pretty hard.”
Delilah snorted. “Your hard head probably did more damage to the sidewalk than the other way around.”
He weakly held up his hand and pulled his fingers and thumb in, leaving the middle finger up. The sound of wheels screeching as someone took the corner too fast were followed by tires screaming against the pavement as a large vehicle locked up its brakes, sending the smell of burnt rubber into the air.
“That’s Pablo. We’re going into the bed.” She squatted and helped Luke up, lifting under his arms. He stood but wobbled some. “You sure you’re going to make it?”
“My body can handle it. Except for some dinged up knees, my legs are fine. Listen, when we go out, you stay on my right side so my armor is between you and wherever that sniper is. Keep your head down, let me cover your body as best as we can. I have some modicum of protection.”
“Ready?” Delilah asked.
“Yeah, let’s go.”
Delilah snaked an arm under his shoulder, around his upper back, and helped him dart out and across the sidewalk. They ducked behind a car just as its rear window exploded into shards followed by another boom.
The passenger side window of Pablo’s truck rolled down, and Pablo yelled out, “Don’t get my truck shot. Hurry up!”
Delilah made eye contact with Luke. They nodded at each other and jumped into the bed of Pablo’s black Toyota Tacoma, grabbing the safety harnesses they’d rigged in the back. Delilah slammed the butt of her fist on the floor of the bed and yelled, “Go!”
Pablo mashed the pedal on the pickup, sending it lurching forward.
Delilah and Luke clung on desperately, trying to avoid being thrown out the back. They heard the distant boom of the sniper rifle. It didn’t appear to have hit anything on the truck, at least that they could see or feel. Pablo screeched around another corner and away from the line of fire of the hidden sniper. He slowed down, balancing escape against drawing the attention of any cops. He was decidedly more on the side of escape than subtlety. But with each passing block and turn, the scales tipped toward blending in.
Luke, judging it to be safe, let go of the harness and crawled to the tailgate. He grabbed the edge of it and pulled back. It tipped up a bit.
Apparently, he felt weaker than he thought. “Delilah, need some help.”
Delilah scooted down next to him and grabbed onto the tailgate. “On the count of three. One. Two. Three!”
Together they pulled back, Luke grunting in pain. The tailgate slammed home. Luke slid to the left and grabbed the latch of the canopy door. Delilah took the right one. Together, they pulled it down and rotated the latches enough to lock it.
Luke grinned weakly. “It’s illegal to ride in the bed of a pickup truck in Oregon.”
Delilah looked at him, one eyebrow quirked up and a smirk across her face. Now that they were on the move and the truck was closed up, the tension of the situation broke. She started to laugh. “Of all the illegal shit we did tonight, that was the thing that was going to undo us?”
He started chuckling too before wincing. “Oh, that hurts. I hope I didn’t break a rib.”
Delilah crawled back to the head of the truck bed and propped herself up in a partially sitting position. “I thought the armor stopped the bullet?”
“I think it did. But it didn’t eat up the force. I still got punched hard. That level of force will do a lot of damage to a body, even with armor. You remember the punishment my body took last winter on the pedestrian bridge…”
Delilah nodded. “Yeah. You took an epic beat down.”
“Took a couple broken ribs out of that too.” Luke reached up and straightened the beard beanie so it was no longer askew after he’d landed on it.
“Come sit up here. It’ll be more comfortable.”
“I think I’ll just lie flat for now.” He groaned as he tried to move.
Delilah scooted around so she was propped up against the side of the bed and canopy. “At least scoot up a bit and rest your head on my leg. It’ll be more comfortable than against the hard truck bed.”
Luke complied, using his feet to shove himself toward Delilah. Once he got close enough, he lifted himself on his elbows and relaxed onto Delilah’s lap. “Thanks, Delilah.”
He looked up at her, making eye contact as she looked down at his face. “Where’d you learn the House Party dance moves? You’re too young.”
“My dad taught me when I was growing up. After Mom died, he wanted to make sure I was in touch with my culture, so we watched a lot of Black movies and listened to Black music. We’d have dance parties in the living room and learn all the moves…”
The last thing Luke saw before he dozed off to the soothing sound of her voice was Delilah smiling softly down at him.
* * *
Pablo opened the canopy and dropped the tailgate. “Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey! Well, isn’t that precious.”
The jolt and clang of the tailgate flopping down dragged Luke up from the depths of his concussion-addled unconsciousness. Delilah had fallen asleep sometime during Pablo’s long evasion route. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. She looked down at Luke whose head was still resting in her lap. “He’s still out. He took a hit to the head and might have a concussion. I’m not sure.”
“Well, Doc is here watching the kid. Also thought it would be a good idea to have medical attention on hand if we needed it, and Luke always seems to need it.”
Delilah, cradling Luke’s head, scooted out from under him and gently set his head down. He tossed and turn a bit, mumbling some words in a language neither Pablo nor Delilah had ever heard. Delilah reached down and gently shook his arm.
“Luke, we’re here. Wake up.”
His eyes fluttered open. “Wuh…where?”
“We’re home, buddy. At least your home,” Pablo added.
Luke extended a hand to Delilah, who gripped his forearm and helped him to a sitting potion. Luke gathered his legs under him and got onto his knees before settling onto his hands and crawling out. He propped himself up against the lowered tailgate. Delilah joined him on the ground. The sun was creeping up in the east, adding a gentle gray to the dark of the night.
“Pablo, get under his other arm. You know the drill,” Delilah said.
The two of them propped Luke up on their shoulders and walked him toward the door.
The door popped open as they approached it, a curvy blonde woman of medium height holding it open.
“How bad is it?” Doctor Maggie Rabinowitz asked, a Polish accent coloring her voice.
“Unknown. He took a shot in the back somewhere from a sniper. I don’t think it penetrated his armor, but he hit the ground hard. Maybe a concussion. Maybe some broken ribs.” Delilah moved out from under Luke’s arm so he could get through the door.
Maggie smiled and shook her head. “He does manage to find new and exciting ways to injure himself, doesn’t he?”
“That’s my pal!” Pablo added, smirking at Luke.
Luke held up his hand, giving the doctor a weak thumbs up.
“Into the kitchen,” the doctor ordered.
As they passed through the entry hall into the living room, Luke spotted his ward Gwendolyn sleeping on the couch.
Following Luke’s gaze, Maggie filled him in. “She was worried about you, so we watched a movie, and she fell asleep. When I tried to move her, she’d stir, so I just let her sleep.”
Luke nodded before regretting the motion. Pablo and Delilah propped Luke up against the counter and began stripping him of his gear. Delilah fetched the armor stand Luke kept upstairs. With jacket, shirt, swords, and armor removed, they guided him into a kitchen chair.
“Is my armor damaged?” Luke asked, trying to twist around to look at it. He groaned in pain.
“Sit straight, dude.” Pablo held up the armor for Luke to inspect. “Doesn’t look like it. It’s a good thing you have divine friends and magic armor.” Pablo set it on the armor stand Delilah had set up.
Luke squinted at the spot where he thought he’d been hit but didn’t see so much as a scratch. “I’m lucky it hit one of the bands and not one of the many weak points.”
“I’m more concerned about your health. Shirt and padding off,” Maggie commanded.
Luke raised his arms and Pablo peeled the padding and undershirt off, tossing them aside. A massive, ugly, purple bruise spread across Luke’s back with the epicenter just below his right shoulder blade. Luke winced as Maggie probed around trying to detect any broken ribs.
“I don’t feel anything obviously broken. Might have gotten lucky with just some hairline fractures. That shoulder’s going to be pretty useless until it heals.” She eyed the various scars splashed across Luke’s torso. Evidence of slashes and stabs and what looked like an arrow wound. “That’s quite the collection of scars you’ve got there.”
A light, sleepy voice came from the doorway to the living room. “Are you OK, Luke?”
Luke turned his head to address Gwen. “I think so, little one. Doc?”
“You’ll live. We’ll get you down to the clinic soon and get an x-ray to be on the safe side. You don’t want a punctured lung,” Maggie said.
“I’m OK. Why don’t you go crawl into your bed. Take Alfred with you.”
Gwen nodded, picked up the giant orange tabby, and headed to the back of the house.
Maggie looked at Pablo and Delilah. “Pablo, get me some water and a washcloth. Delilah, my kit is by the couch. Can you grab it for me?”
Pablo complied, handing the doctor a bowl of water and a clean red dishrag. She dabbed Luke’s forehead, cleaning the road rash from his fall. Delilah returned and opened the kit, spreading it on the table within easy reach for Maggie. She grabbed a small set of forceps and pulled a few small pieces of debris from Luke’s head wound. Satisfied it was clean, she smeared antibacterial ointment on it and covered it with a bandage.
Maggie repeated the process on his hands. “Anywhere else I need to look?”
“Those knees don’t look too good, Doc,” Pablo supplied.
Luke looked down at his knees, seeing the torn jeans and the bloody flesh under, and sighed.
“Better drop your pants,” Maggie said.
Luke extended a hand to Pablo, who helped him stand. He unbuttoned his pants, dropped the zipper, and pushed his pants down, careful to make sure his underwear stayed firmly in place. Not bothering to bend over and take them all the way off, he left them around his ankles, then sat back down.
Maggie had Pablo get another bowl of water and another clean cloth. Carefully dabbing so as not to drive in the debris, she cleaned the torn-up skin on his knees, then picked out pebbles, shards of glass, and a few unidentified pieces. She covered his knees with large bandages and stood up.
“Anything else?” Maggie asked
Luke lifted his arms and looked down at his nearly nude body. “I’m not hiding any wounds in my underpants, so I think that’s it, Doc.” Luke said, using the informal mode of address he’d picked up from Pablo. Maggie didn’t seem to mind.
She nodded. “Well, if there’s nothing else, I’m going to head home. Get some rest. When you wake up, call me and we’ll get those ribs x-rayed. Bring Gwen with you; she’s due for a checkup. Plus, I want to get a blood draw and check her hormone levels, see how the puberty blockers are working.”
Luke caught her hand before she could leave. Looking into her eyes, he said, “Thank you for everything, Doc. Thanks for staying with the kid. I’ll give you a call to get us both down to the clinic.”
Maggie smiled softly. “Oh, no problem. I’m glad she trusts me enough to let me watch her. She’s come a long way from the skittish kid afraid of her own kind.”
“She’s still wary of most werewolves, except for you, Sam, and Pablo,” Delilah said.
“It’s a start, at least. I’ll see you all later.” She squeezed Luke’s hand and released it.
“Good night, Maggie. Well, good morning, I guess,” added Delilah.
“Get some rest, you three. And Luke…”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t overdo it until you heal. Hairline fractures can still break, and I don’t feel like treating you for a punctured lung.”