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“What the hell!” demanded a female voice.
Luther opened his eyes, straining them toward the top of his skull until his brain ached. The pink-haired server hovered at the red edges of his vision.
“I’m calling the cops,” she said.
“No,” Luther said, trying to sit and lifting Virgil with him.
The pounding pulse and squeezing pressure in Luther’s head eased as Virgil released his throat, and the gray slowly faded from his vision. Luther grunted when Virgil kneed him in the thigh while climbing off.
“Wait,” Luther said, swallowing hard and raising a single hand until he could gather his strength to hoist the rest of his body. “No cops. It’s a misunderstanding. I was having a seizure—”
“Bullshit!” the young woman said.
“Okay, fine,” Luther said, getting to his feet slowly with the aid
