enough distance that he couldn't try for my gun, but I might not be fast enough, and then I'd have to shoot him to keep my gun and to keep him off me. It seemed almost stupid to be thinking of that while he was still hugging me so normally, or as normally as I'd ever seen him interact with me.
"I'm stepping back now, Olaf," I said, and started moving out of the hug, though I kept the gun barrel hard against his body. That would be the last thing I moved.
I thought he'd fight me, but he didn't. He hadn't done anything I'd expected him to do since I stepped into the room. Then the gun was the only thing touching him. I wasn't looking at the center of his body like they teach you in boxing; I was more looking to one side. It was like being in the woods and looking for movement among the leaves; you see more by not looking.
The gun barrel left the side of his body but was still pointed at his center mass. I felt him move almost before he did it. I couldn't have told you what moved, or what clued me, but I knew what he was going to do. He tried to disarm me and if I'd been human-slow, he'd have done it. He was that fast, that good.
I moved to one side, let his hand pass by my gun, my arm, my side, and hit his wrist with the butt of my gun as he missed me. I could have kicked his knee and dislocated it, but he was supposed to be on our side. I didn't want him crippled for the hunt. When he wasn't being all serial killer weird, he was a good man in a fight.
He came back at me with his other hand, and I had the gun pointed at his heart, and one of the sheath knives pressed to his groin.
Edward yelled, "Enough!"
I froze, Olaf 's life in my hands twice. "If he behaves, so will I." "You're faster than I remember," Olaf said.
"Funny, that's what the weretiger spy said."
"I told you she's faster," Edward said.
"I needed to see it for myself," Olaf said. I could feel the weight of his gaze, but I didn't look away from my two targets. He could stare all he wanted to; I had my priorities.
I spoke low and carefully, afraid my tense muscles would drive the knife a little into his flesh. If I ever stabbed him in the groin I knew it would have to be a killing blow, not an accident. "If you keep testing my limits, Olaf, one of us will get hurt."
"I will step back if you lower the weapons," he said.
"I'll lower the weapons if you step back."
"We are at an impasse then."
Edward said, "I'm behind you, Anita. I'm going to step between you both, and you will both back the fuck up." He came into my view, and then he did what he said he'd do, and began to step between us.
I let him back me up, and so did Olaf. We stood staring at each other. With Edward between us I was finally willing to look up into Olaf's face, and what I saw there wasn't comforting. He was excited: his eyes alight with it, his mouth half parted. He'd enjoyed being close to me, and the danger, or maybe he'd enjoyed something I didn't even understand, but calling him a sick fuck seemed counterproductive to us working together, so I just thought it really hard.
"Now," Edward said, glaring from one to the other of us, "we're going to meet Anita's backup and go hunt bad guys, not each other."
"I will need a side trip," Olaf said.
"Why?" Edward asked.
Bernardo answered from near the door, where he'd moved, apparently, when Olaf and I started our dance. "Hospital emergency room. She broke his wrist."
Edward and I both looked at Olaf, and at his wrist. It wasn't at an odd angle, so it wasn't a bad break, but he was holding it still, and a little stiff against his side.
"Is it broken?" Edward asked.
"Yes," he said.
"How bad?" Edward asked.
"Not too bad."
"Will you be able to use a gun?"
"It's why we all practice left-handed, isn't it?" Olaf said. Which meant no.
"Fuck," I said.
"You didn't mean to break his wrist, did you?" Edward asked, looking at me.
I shook my head.
"I saw in the woods how much faster you are. I think you're stronger than