left it on a table on the porch, and followed him outside.
“We stay in human form,” I told him. “If you shift, you forfeit the fight. No knives, no guns.”
“No weapons besides our fists and feet,” he agreed.
I shrugged. “Knees, elbows, other body parts, but yeah. Human form, no weapons.”
I expected him to attack first, and he didn’t disappoint. I was ready, so I easily blocked his first volley of fists and kicks, and didn’t wait for him to retreat before I lobbed my first offense. No way was I giving him even a second to recover.
Usually, fights are over within two or three minutes, but we were too evenly matched for that, so ten minutes later, we were still going at it, landing an occasional punch or kick, finding it difficult to get through the other’s defenses once we learned each other. Blood ran down one side of his face where I’d connected with his eye. My face was okay, but I was pretty sure he’d cracked a few ribs with a kick I hadn’t seen coming until it was too late to dodge or block. I’d weakened one of his knees, but he was doing okay on it, despite the pain I could scent on him.
I was bigger and stronger, but he was faster and sneakier.
He lobbed another fast offense, moving in and back out, in and back out, and I finally recognized — not so much a pattern as a method. When he came back in, his foot was headed at my face, and I was ready for it this time despite his speed, so my hand was already in place, waiting for his calf. I grabbed, squeezed, leaned back, and held on tight as I swung him in a large arc by his foot. Around once, twice, and I let go so he slammed into a large tree hard enough to break his spine and hopefully a few ribs while I was at it.
I was beyond ready for the fight to end, and we were too evenly matched for me to be moderate. I could keep from killing him, but I needed to hurt him badly enough I knew he wouldn’t jump back up.
His ribcage slammed into the huge tree and he bounced off, landing hard enough on the ground it made me wince for him. He landed bent and broken, and it was obvious his spine was damaged. He gasped for air and I scented blood — at least one lung was punctured, possibly both.
And then he exploded into a million golden glitter-sparkles, and his tiger was lying on its side, no longer bent the wrong direction, but not completely whole.
The tiger took several long seconds to come to its feet, and I stood my ground. I’d thrown him thirty yards, so we were still that far from each other. I’d hidden a Kimber forty-five caliber handgun under the steps of the screened-in porch, and I’d go for it and shoot him if he came after me in tiger form.
But he didn’t. He took thirty seconds to catch his breath after he made it to his feet, and then he glitter-sparkled back into human.
And then he just stared at me from thirty yards away.
After a full minute, I figured someone needed to break the silence, so I said, “I love her. You messed up the way she thinks about sex. It doesn’t make much sense for you to get pissed because she needs it rough in order to enjoy it.”
He still didn’t say anything, so I crossed my arms and told him, “Damn, I’m glad wolves don’t do that motherfucking glitter-sparkle thing when we change.”
He shook his head. “As much as I want to point out that dogs don’t do fancy, I find that it feels more important to give you credit for winning the fight.”
I shrugged. “I think we both knew we’d need to take the measure of each other at some point. I’m just glad we could do it without Kitty here to see it.”
He looked around him, gathered up the pieces of his clothes that’d scattered around him when he burst out of them, and walked to me, naked.
“I’ll change clothes, shave my head, and put new contacts in, and then we should eat lunch, wolf.”
Kitty
I knew something was up when the wolves and I came back to the farmhouse, but both Squatch and my father seemed to want to play it off as if nothing had happened, so I didn’t push.