Silver Borne (Mercy Thompson #5)(67)

Paul used the momentum from the wasted kick to spin sharply and drive his right heel in a savage back kick aimed at Adam's stomach. He might be a jerk, but Paul knew how to move, and he was blazingly fast.

Adam again managed to block the kick, but the block only muted the force. Adam let the kick fold him over and throw him back across the mat, springing back with it. Paul came in right behind, arms rising to the high-block position he'd used on Mary Jo. Adam regained his balance just as Paul closed with him, and spun on his left foot and drove his right leg in a side kick. There was the crisp pop of fabric snapping as his leg flashed out to full extension, but it missed Paul by a handspan or more.

Paul's hands clenched, and both fists came down in an instant replay of the attack he'd used on Mary Jo. Adam was bent at the waist, failed kick still extended, his back exposed to Paul's descending fists. And then he did one of those kung-fu movie moves, spinning horizontally. I wasn't the only one who gasped.

The kick hadn't missed; it was the start of something beautiful and dangerous. Adam's left leg hit Paul's shoulder with such force that Paul's blow went wide, flailing at empty space, as he spun in midair before crashing to the mats.

Paul hit like a pine tree falling, and the sound of his arm breaking was loud enough for everyone to hear. Adam landed on his stomach, one leg trapped under Paul's body, which was perpendicular to Adam's. Unlike Paul, Adam's landing was deliberate and controlled. Before Paul could react, Adam twisted his body and drove the shin of his free leg into Paul's chest.

In karate movies, they break celery to mimic the sound of breaking bones. Trust me, my hearing is acute, and I know these things: Paul's ribs didn't sound anything like celery. A human might have died from that blow; he certainly would have needed CPR. Werewolves are tougher than that.

Paul's hand slammed the mat.

"He yields," said Adam.

"Adam wins," announced Darryl. "Do you accept Paul's yield, Alpha?"

"I do," replied Adam.

"This fight is over," said Darryl.

Adam leaned down to Paul. "That edge you lost in your fight with Mary Jo is what allowed me to take the time to find something that would hurt you - instead of kill you. You can thank her for your life."

Paul moved his head, exposing his throat to Adam. "I will, Alpha."

Adam smiled. "I'd give you a hand up - but we'd better have Warren look at your ribs first. One punctured lung is enough."

I'd been keeping an eye on Henry throughout the fight. I glanced at him just as he stepped onto the mat.

"Alpha," he called. "I chal - "

He never got the whole word out - because I drew my foster father's SIG and shot him in the throat before he could.

For a split second everyone stared at him, as if they couldn't figure out where all that blood had come from.

"Stop the bleeding," I said. Though I made no move to do it myself. The rat could die for all I cared. "That was a lead bullet. He'll be fine." Though he wouldn't be talking - or challenging Adam - for a while. "When he's stable, put him in the holding cell, where he can't do any more harm."

Adam looked at me. "Trust you to bring a gun to a fistfight," he said with every evidence of admiration. Then he looked at his pack. Our pack. "What she said," he told them.

Chapter 12

WHEN THE PACK ESCORTED ADAM IN A TRIUMPHANT procession into the house, I hung back with Jesse and Sam - both of whom looked pretty wrung out.

Paul had left the dojo the same way Mary Jo had, in the stretcher - and he should be resting beside her in one of the downstairs bedrooms that were considered pack property rather than Adam's. Any member of the pack could and did claim one for sleeping or reading or whatever they needed. With Adam in the house, neither Paul nor Mary Jo would have a problem with control while they healed - their wolves knew their Alpha was in residence to keep them safe.

There were some awful things about being a werewolf. Lots of them. But there were some okay parts, too - and some that were nice. One of those was knowing that as long as the Alpha was around, you had a safe place to be.

Henry hadn't died from the blood loss, so far as I knew, and had probably already healed. A bullet is a small thing, and the hole it cuts is clean if it doesn't hit anything hard on the way through - like bone. He'd be up before either Mary Jo or Paul. Of course, what happened to him after that was in question. I suppose it would be Adam's decision.

Warren hung back until everyone else except for me, Sam, and Jesse were gone. And then he shut the door.

"Adam will miss you in about five minutes," he told me. "And in six minutes you're going to need to get him upstairs and in bed without letting the whole pack know that in ten minutes that man is going to be unconscious on the floor."

"I know," I told him.

The big cowboy smiled tiredly, though, like me, all he'd done was watch the challenge. "That was a nice bit of fighting. I suspect he could have taken Paul without Mary Jo stepping in."

I nodded. "But now Paul is back in the pack again, happier than before. And I don't think that could have happened without Mary Jo."

"I hate this part," said Jesse shakily.

"The part where everyone is safe, and you want to find a quiet corner and bawl like a newborn?" Warren glanced at me. "I reckon it's better than when people aren't safe - but it's not my favorite, either." He wrapped his arm around Adam's daughter's shoulder and she snuggled into him.