Blue Moon by Laurell K. Hamilton Page B

fuzzballs keep forgetting is that strength isn’t enough. Leverage, there’s the ticket.”
    He frowned at me, obviously puzzled. His hand tightened just this side of serious injury. “You can’t fight this, Anita.”
    â€œWhat do you want me to say? Uncle?”
    Jamil smiled. “Uncle, okay, yeah, say uncle. Admit that just this once you can’t take care of yourself.”
    I pushed myself out of the van, tucking my legs so he was suddenly trying to hold my entire body weight with a one-handed grip on my forearm. My arm slipped through his fingers. I let myself fall to the ground, going for the long blade down my back, not worrying about trying to stand. My right hand went for the Browning, but I knew I wouldn’t make it in time. I was trusting that Jamil wasn’t going to kill me. We were grandstanding. If I was wrong on that, I was about to die.
    Jamil spilled over the seat, arms reaching for me, trusting in his own way that I wouldn’t blow his head off. He knew I had the gun. He was treating me like a shapeshifter who knew the rules. You didn’t kill over small stuff. You bled each other, but you didn’t kill.
    I sliced his arm open from a nearly prone position. There was a moment of utter surprise on his face. He hadn’t known about the third blade or its length, and getting sliced open is always a shock. He jerked backwards out of sight like someone had pulled him, but I knew better. He was just that fast.
    I had time to get to one knee before he bounded onto the hood of the van, crouched like the predator he was. I had the Browning pointed at him. I got to my feet, gun nice and steady on the middle of his body. Standing didn’t help things. I didn’t shoot better standing. But somehow I wanted to be on my feet.
    Jamil watched me but made no move to stop me. Maybe he was afraid to try. Not of the gun but of himself. I had hurt him. Blood was splashing all over those pretty white clothes. His entire body vibrated with the desire to close the distance between us. He was pissed, and it was four nights until full moon. He probably wouldn’t kill me, but I wasn’t going to test the theory. He could break my neck with one blow. Hell, he could explode my skull like an egg. No more chances.
    I pointed the Browning at him one-handed, knife still in my left. “Don’t do it, Jamil. I’d hate to lose you over something this stupid.”
    A low growl trickled from his lips. The sound alone raised the hair at the back of my neck.
    The others were out of the back of the van. I had a sense of movement. “Everyone stay back,” I said.
    â€œAnita,” Jason said, voice very calm, no teasing, no jokes. “Anita, what’s going on?”
    â€œAsk Mr. Macho there.”
    Cherry spoke from her seat inside the van. She hadn’t moved. “Jamil was trying to explain to Anita how she couldn’t handle herself against shapeshifters and vampires.” She slid very slowly towards the edge of the seat. I kept my gaze on Jamil, but my peripheral vision was good enough to catch the spots of blood all over the white skin.
    â€œStay in the van, Cherry. Don’t press me.”
    She stopped scooting along the seat and just sat there. “Jamil wanted her to take a backseat when the action starts.”
    â€œShe is still human,” Jamil growled. “She is still weak.”
    Cherry’s deep, caressing voice said, “She could have sliced your throat open instead of your arm. She could have shot you in the head when you reached for her.”
    â€œI still can,” I said, “if you don’t tone it down.”
    Jamil lay nearly flat on the hood, fingers splayed. His entire body trembled with tension. Something lurked behind that human body, swimming up through his eyes. His beast pushed against his flesh like a leviathan swimming just below the water, so you caught a dark glimpse of something huge and