He rose, offered me a hand, and then pulled me up easily. Pain rose yet again, but it was at least a little less brutal this time.

Once we were on the move, Mathi hooked my right arm through his and pulled me closer. For once I didn’t object, simply because my legs remained damnably shaky. Reaction more than pain, I suspected.

Rather surprisingly, no one in the buildings that lined this portion of the lane had come out to check what had happened, and I couldn’t see anyone peering through rear windows. Either the buildings were empty, or explosions were an everyday part of life around these parts.

A fire engine had arrived by the time we got back to the main street, its blue emergency lights washing brightly through the wet darkness. Several firemen were busy unwinding hoses while others pushed spectators back. More sirens could be heard in the distance; I guessed they’d probably be police and ambulances.

There was glass and debris scattered all over the pavement and street, and the cars parked in front of the shop had sustained heavy damage. Lady luck had definitely been looking out for us when the lack of parking spaces had forced us farther away from the building.

We took a wide berth around the area and made our way back to Mathi’s car. He helped me into the passenger seat and then hobbled around to the driver side.

He didn’t start the car, however, instead pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and offering it to me. “There’s no first aid kit in the car, so this is the best I can offer to stop the blood.”

“From getting on the leather?” I teased.

A smile tugged at his lips but didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Between the two of us, the poor leather is going to need complete detailing.”

I glanced at his leg. Though his pants had ripped as he’d slid along the cobblestones, they’d held up enough to protect him from more serious damage. The blood was coming from a cut on his upper thigh that looked more like a puncture wound than a scrape. He’d obviously landed on something sharp and pointy. “I think the handkerchief is better used to put pressure on that.”

He raised his eyebrows, mischief dancing across his expression. “Are you offering to go down and provide administrations?”

“My days of going down on you are long over, my friend.”

His sigh was long and sorrowful. “Such a shame.”

I rolled my eyes. “And you’ve only yourself to blame.”

“Sadly, that is very true.”

He folded the hanky and pressed it against the puncture wound, then used his belt to hold it in place.

As he started the car and reversed out, I flipped the vanity mirror down to check out my cheek. He was right about it being nasty; I’d basically scraped the entire right side of my face open and couldn’t even remember it happening. I tugged my sweater sleeve over my hand and cleaned it out the best I could.