snatched up the gun our intruder had dropped on the floor and stepped into the doorway, holding the door open as he had, with one foot. I pointed the gun at the stranger's face - and waited for the real terror to begin.
But there was no roar behind me, no further screams as Sam shook off the air of civilization that made people look at him and think "pet" rather than "monster."
I took a moment to breathe then, half-stunned by Sam's restraint. It took me a moment to figure out what to do with the best-case scenario I'd been unexpectedly gifted with.
I could hear noise behind me, but I ignored it. Zee was there; no enemy could come at me from that direction. The sobs and frightened voices softened and stopped. Sam wasn't growling. I wasn't sure if it was a good sign or not, but decided to think positively.
"Sylvia, call the police," I told her after a half second of consideration. We were in the right. And thanks to Adam, who littered my workplace with security cameras, we'd have proof. As an added bonus, there were no werewolf attacks to explain away. No reason for Sam to play any role in this at all. "Tell them what happened and ask them to hurry."
"Hey, lady, you don't want to do that," said the second man, breathlessly. He was beginning to struggle to get out from under the gunman - who was assessing me with cool eyes while his assistant kept talking. "You don't want the police involved. This will go better the quieter we can keep it."
If he hadn't sounded so patronizing, I don't think I would have pulled the trigger.
I shot to the side, far enough that there was no way it would hit either of them, near enough that the blacktop that was dislodged by the bullet hit them both.
"I'd stay still if I were you," I said, adrenaline making my voice shake. My hands, the important part, were steady.
"I am calling Tony," said Sylvia behind me in a low voice that the two men lying on their backs at the base of my steps wouldn't hear. "That way there will be no mistakes made." Her voice was calm and unhurried. All those years as a police dispatcher coming to her aid. Tony was my friend, Sylvia's friend - and we both trusted him.
With the intruders under control, I became aware that there were other people outside. Not customers these. They stood by a full-sized black van that managed to look wicked and elegant in a custom paint job.
There were three people - two (one man, one woman) dressed like the gunman, right down to the flowing locks, and a girl in a gray T-shirt and a headset. The van had the same yellow lettering that was on the man's jacket.
KELLY HEART, it said, I realized once I had leisure to read it, BOUNTY HUNTER. Underneath the yellow, in slightly smaller letters, it said: SATURDAYS AT 8PM CENTRAL TIME. CATCHING THE BAD GUYS, ONE AT A TIME.
"Smile," I said grimly to the people who had my back: Zee, Sylvia and her girls, and Sam. "We're on Candid Camera." Zee and Sam needed to know there were unfriendly cameras pointed at them.
"Now, just you calm down," said one of the people in black, the woman with bright yellow hair and red lipstick. As she started to talk, she began walking toward us briskly. "You'll want to put down that gun. It's just TV, lady, nothing to get excited about."
I don't take orders. Not from people invading my place. I sent a second shot into the pavement in front of her.
"Tanya, stop," shrieked the techie-girl. "Don't make her shoot again. Do you know what those silver bullets cost us?"
"You'll want to stop right there," I told them. Silver was for werewolves. They'd come hunting werewolves. "I was raised in the backwoods of Montana. I can hit a duck on the wing." Maybe. Probably. I'd never shot a duck in my life; I prefer hunting on all fours. "Where I come from, a gun is a weapon, not a TV prop, and if all the bad guys are dead, our side of the story is the only one that gets told. Don't make me decide that would be easier."
Tanya froze, and I pulled the barrel back to center on the man whose face was vaguely familiar once I knew he was a TV star. I was fighting against the growing urge