Alien in the House

driving, waved.
    Now the back window rolled down. “Is there a reason the eight of you are walking?” Chuckie asked. “The Pontifex and I are just curious.”
    “We wanted to get good and sweaty before Jeff’s sworn in. It’s a nice-ish day.”
    Chuckie and Gower laughed. “Would you like a lift?” Gower asked.
    “Like you wouldn’t believe.”
    The others joined us. “There’s not enough room for all of us in there,” Brewer pointed out.
    Jeff shrugged. “Let’s put the girls in, I’m sure they’ll appreciate it.”
    “James, too,” I said. Wanted the briefcase in our complete control. “And Vance,” I added mostly because he looked like his feelings were about to be hurt.
    “We’ll stay with the Congressmen,” Len said when Reader hesitated.
    Nathalie gave Brewer a quick kiss and got in. Had Vance go in after her. Reader handed the briefcase to Chuckie as I kissed Jeff. “Be careful.”
    “Always, baby. You too.”
    “I think I can manage a three block car ride.”
    Jeff grinned. “You never can tell.”
    Started to get in, then something dawned on me. “Oh, hey, do you want to give me the tea tins since I’m driving now?” I asked as I turned back.
    Jeff, who’d bent to help me, straightened up so my head didn’t knock into his. He opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted by two things.
    Bruno appeared, screaming, to slam in between us. He spread his wings, hard, and shoved us both aside. As he did, I heard a shot ring out.
    Jeff slammed back against the limo, then fell to the ground.



CHAPTER 55
    “D OWN!” I shouted as I flung myself on top of Jeff. His eyes were closed and he didn’t move.
    Heard the boys hustle Brewer inside, heard Nathalie screaming and Len telling her and Brewer to stay down and stay quiet, as Chuckie and Reader got out, amidst the screams of passersby. Heard a bird’s scream. It wasn’t from pain—Bruno was going after the shooter.
    A car peeled out somewhere nearby. But I wasn’t paying much attention to all of this. I was looking at Jeff. Specifically at his chest.
    His coat was a mess—ripped up and shredded, with pieces of metal strewn all over. Brown and red flecks were slathered everywhere across his chest. “Oh my God, Jeff,” I whispered, as I put my hands over the hole to stop the bleeding.
    Only there was no blood.
    Jeff’s eyes opened, then he blinked. “What the hell?”
    “Stay down,” Chuckie said, as he knelt next to us. He wasn’t looking at Jeff. His gun was drawn and he was scanning the area. “Don’t talk. Jerry’s got an ambulance coming and Doctor Hernandez will be here soon.”
    “Why?” Jeff asked.
    “You were shot.” Could tell my voice was shaking. “There’s metal and . . . stuff everywhere.”
    “I don’t feel shot. I feel hit, but not shot. I want to get off the street.”
    “No.” Chuckie looked at him. “What the . . . ?” He holstered his gun and ripped Jeff’s jacket and shirt open. There was a huge bruise forming over Jeff’s left pec, but no blood. “I’m willing to call this miraculous.”
    Looked at my hands and realized what the miracle had been. “It’s the tea.”
    “What?” Chuckie sounded confused and shaken. I could relate.
    “The owners where we ate lunch gave us tins of tea as a gift. They were heavy and in stainless steel, and Jeff had them in the pocket over his hearts. I didn’t realize they could stop a bullet.”
    Chuckie flipped Jeff’s clothes over and examined the damage. “It’s because the shooter used a hollow-point.”
    “How can you tell?” Jeff asked. “And can I get up?”
    “Not yet. Area’s not secure.”
    “The limo would be,” Jeff pointed out.
    “No,” Chuckie said sternly.
    “How do you know it was a hollow-point?” I asked Chuckie. He hadn’t answered and I wanted this information.
    “The pattern. Hollow-points are designed to cause more damage when they hit. They have less velocity than a non-hollow bullet, though. So the tins of tea were able to deflect the bullet, versus just be the first things it passed through.”
    “A regular bullet might have gone through Jeff, or through you and Jeff,” Reader said, voice tight, as he knelt down next to us. “But if the hollow-point had gone in, it would have expanded and probably splintered, sending bits through the body, bouncing off bone, and so on.”
    “So they specifically wanted to kill Jeff.”
    “Want to explain that?” Chuckie asked. “The Peregrine knocked you