From the time I heard the first scream, I used every ounce of speed I had.
I swung at the man a second time, this time aiming at his body as if the broom were a Louisville Slugger, saying urgently, "Stay down , Sam." All that karate was good for something, I thought, as the man grabbed the handle and jerked back.
I let it go.
Off balance because he was braced for resistance, he took a step back, and I kicked him in the stomach, knocking him down the stair and onto the blacktop outside.
Not incidentally, he took the guy who'd been behind him with him to the ground.
Now, if only the werewolf listens.
I 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.