In the Werewolf's Den by Rob Preece

could see the art in Carl's attack. Perhaps in those six months of solitary confinement, he'd developed a scheme to integrate martial arts designed for humans into his new form. Or perhaps his style of Kung Fu was one of those already based on animal movement.
    Still, the elf was good. All elves had a grace and economy of motion that would make a human ballet dancer look clumsy, and this elf clearly practiced. He blocked Carl's attack and landed a raking straight-fingered thrust that nearly took Carl's eyes out.
    Conscious that his allies were falling around him, Arenesol stepped back, reached into his coat, and pulled out a stick of dynamite. “Not yet,” He muttered.
    He stuck the dynamite back in his shirt and produced a pair of sai, the three-pronged fishing daggers that show up in tacky kung fu movies but that Danielle had never seen used in a real fight. Weapons in hand, he faced Carl calmly.
    Almost absentmindedly, Danielle popped a hook kick to her troll's ribs then smashed a ridge hand to his temple. Rocky crashed to the ground in a satisfying avalanche and she turned her attention to an elf that had circled behind the two dwarves.
    With Rocky gone, the elf decided he'd had enough of fighting, picked his teeth up from the ground, and ran. Danielle was free to watch Carl, to learn his moves and, if necessary, to step in and give him a hand. Third-degree black belt or not, he didn't have the warder training.
    Arenesol blocked Carl's next strike, then launched an attack of his own.
    The sai, Danielle noticed, gleamed the distinctive white of alloyed silver. Carl could be in trouble. She moved in to protect her herd.
    Danielle watched for her opportunity knowing that Carl would need her help. She'd spent plenty of time at the Academy learning about elves—most dangerous of the impaired species after vampires—and she knew that no Were could stand against one. Especially not one with Arenesol's talents.
    The elf didn't need the silver in his sai. It would simply make his job easier.
    Carl arched a sloppy kick at one of the sai, overextending his balance.
    The elf reacted to the opportunity Carl had given him, avoiding his kick and thrusting for the kill.
    Against a human, Arenesol's move would have been fatal. But Carl wasn't exactly a human. He'd shifted to full wolf form just as the elf reacted. What would have been an insane, head-leading collapse in a human became a poised leap by a wolf.
    Not that it mattered. Danielle's kick knocked the sai from the elf's hand leaving him unprotected to the attack.
    Under two hundred pounds of wolf, the elf went down.
    When Carl's teeth closed at the elf's throat, Arenesol smiled and went limp. “I take it there's something you'd like to discuss with me."
    Carl loosened his jaws.
    "Tie him up.” In his wolf form, Carl's words sounded like a cross between barking and coughing but Danielle knew what he wanted. She whipped her leash out and wrapped it around the elf's hands and neck.
    "Why don't we step back to the bar and discuss our next steps with Mr. Arenesol?” Mike suggested. “Billy and Willie, there's some refuse lying on the street and blocking traffic. Just shove those critters into the gutters they came from."
    While Carl managed the transition back to human appearance, Danielle and Mike dragged the bound elf back to the bar.
    "Can we have coffee now?” asked Billy, or Willie—Danielle had a hard time telling the dwarves apart since they always wore identical jeans, t-shirts, and the hooded cloaks that the law required dwarfs to wear at all times.
    "I don't think they want our business,” Danielle reminded the dwarf.
    "They'll take our business,” the other dwarf grunted. “Or else we'll—"
    "Beer when we get back to the lab,” Carl promised.
    "Beer is good too,” Willie, or maybe Billy, offered.
    Arenesol, to no one's surprise, was perfectly willing to talk. A normal had offered his gang, the Tigers, ten thousand dollars for the results of Carl's work. In the