His reflex save of 21 was enough to keep him from falling off the couch, at least, but he still ended up falling a little to the side before catching his balance and rubbing his arm. That hurt a lot more than he'd expect a punch from someone her size would.

"Bloody Hell, Summers. How much time do you spend working out?" He rolled up his sleeve and frowned at the reddened mark where her fist had struck. "I think that's going to bruise."

Weren't creatures of the night supposed to be smaller than mere mortals like her? Had he overestimated himself or underestimated her?