fire truck

I managed to stagger back to verticality. My wounded head felt like Lara had split it open, and I'd have a hand-shaped bruise on my cheek, but I wasn't going to sit there moaning about getting slapped by a girl. Granted, the girl was hundreds of years old and could change a fire truck's tires without using a jack, but there was a principle at work here. I got to my feet and then walked carefully over to stand beside Ebenezar, facing the vampires. One of the Wardens there made a little room for me, all his attention focused forward on Lara and her sisters.


Turn Coat Chapter 41, Page 399