If he'd said it with a hair more heat, I'd have been worried.
"Is he all right?" I tried to ask--and he must have understood.
"Knocked out cold, but he'll be fine.
Not even a sore neck for his trouble." "I think you're right," Sensei said.
"She pulled it, and angled her foot perfectly for a tournament hit." He held Lee still as the big man moaned and started to stir.
Sensei looked at me and frowned.
"You were stupid, Mercy.
What is the first rule of combat?" By this time I could talk.
"The best defense is fast tennis shoes," I said.
He nodded.
"Right.
When you noticed he was out of control--which I'm sure was about two full minutes at least before I did, because I was helping Gibbs with his axe kick--you should have called for help, then gotten away from him.
There was no point in letting this continue until someone got hurt." From the sidelines, Gibbs, the other brown belt, said, "She's sorry, Sensei.
She just got her directions confused.
She kept running the wrong way." There was a general laugh as tension dispersed.
Sensei guided Lee though a general check to make sure nothing was permanently damaged.
"Sit out for the rest of the lesson," he told Lee.
"Then we'll have a little talk." When Lee got up, he didn't look at me or anyone else, just took up a low-horse stance with a wall at his back.
Sensei stood up, and I followed suit.
He looked at Adam.
Who bowed, fist to hand and eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses he hadn't been wearing when I'd first glimpsed him in the doorway.
Most of the werewolves I know carry dark glasses or wear hats that can shadow their eyes.
"Adam Hauptman," he said.
"A friend of Mercy's.
Just here to observe unless you object." Sensei was an accountant in real life.
His day job was working for an insurance firm, but here he was king.
His eyes were cool and confident as he looked at Adam.
"The werewolf," he said.
Adam was one of five or six of his pack who had chosen to come out to the public.
"Hai," agreed Adam.