There were faint popping sounds, and Mary Jo scrabbled at the mat frantically, her control shattered and the wolf fighting for survival.
"Goddamn it," he said.
"Yield.
Don't make me kill you." For some reason at that moment I looked at Henry.
The bastard was watching without any emotion on his face at all.
"Yield," Adam roared.
"Mary Jo.
Yield." Mary Jo hit the mat with her right hand, twice.
"She yields," Paul said, looking at Darryl.
"Paul wins," said Darryl.
"Do you accept her yield?" "Yes, yes." "It is over," declared Darryl.
Paul jumped off of her and rolled her over.
"Medic," he said, sounding frantic.
"Medic." A few heads turned to Sam.
He stayed where he was, but he all but vibrated with the need to help.
He closed his eyes and finally turned his back to the scene.
It was Warren who pulled up Mary Jo's T-shirt, and Adam who grabbed the first-aid kit.
I grabbed Jesse, and we both stayed back.
Within a few seconds I couldn't see what was happening for all the people who crowded closer.
"Got to pull the rib out of her lung," said Adam tightly.
Then, "Just toss the broken bits.
They'll regrow." Medicine among werewolves is, in many ways, much simpler--if more brutal--than for humans.
"Hold her down, Paul.
The more she struggles, the more this is going to hurt." Then in a much softer voice, Adam crooned, "Just bear with us a bit, baby.
We'll get you so you can breathe better in just a second." "I didn't hit her in the ribs," Paul said.
"Henry knocked her across the kitchen," said Auriele.
"Here.
Don't get that Vaseline all over.
Just a little around the wound to seal the Teflon pad, but you've got to tape three sides of the pad, and that will work better if you aren't taping to Vaseline- covered skin." There was a wave of relieved silence as whatever they'd managed to do seemed to work and Mary Jo could breathe again.
People backed away, giving her space since she was out of immediate danger.