Page 108 of The Elf Beside Himself

Maybe I was wrong.

Or maybe there was more to it.

I wasn’t going to find out by sitting in the car waiting to get nailed in the head with a jagged piece of cement. Not that I had a lot of choice, since getting beaten to death by getting out of the car wasn’t going to improve matters, either.

The noise level outside increased, and a sneaked glance showed that the fight had escalated—now there were a handful of uniformed Shawano PD wading into the middle of the protestors. At first, I foolishly assumed that would diffuse things—or, maybe, that the Shawano PD would join in.

Neither of those things happened. The MFM dicksacks turned on them.

And then I saw one of them go down.

“Fuck.” I said it out loud.

Because I couldnotsit here and watch a cop get beaten to death, especially because Smith had probably told them to come rescue the people in the car. Aka, me.

“Val.” Taavi’s voice was strained, worried, scared, and a little bit angry. Because he knew me, and he knew exactly what I was going to do. And he didnotlike it.

“I have to,” was all I said. Without turning to look at him, I pushed open the door, ignoring my mother’s shrieks and my dad’s yells.

It was fucking stupid, and I knew it, but I didn’t have a lot of choice. Watch a man get beaten to death on my behalf, or go out there and try to stop it.

And, yes, possibly also get beaten to death, but I had the feeling that was going to happen anyway if the cops were driven off or—worse—killed.

Elves may be skinny bastards, but that also means we’re all angles and elbows, and I knew how to throw mine. I waded through the crowd, most of them paying more attention to the cops being beaten than to me, fortunately, although that changed the deeper into them I got. Somehow—I had no idea how, although I found out later—I made it to the middle, grabbed Dickbag by the back of the collar and hauled him off the bloody uniform on the ground.

Elves are strong. Definitely stronger than humans, so when I bared my not-very-sharp teeth at him and hauled his ass up so that his eyes met mine, his feet were off the ground and he was dangling like a pasty, hairless kitten. Not a cute one, either. One of those mangy, feral little fuckers that tries to take your hand off.

“Fuckingenough,” I snarled at him, ignoring the gasps and other sounds behind me. “You want to think you’re better than me, fucking fine. But you keep that shit to chanting and waving fucking signs, and I won’t have to beat you to within an inch of your fucking life, you hear me?”

Dickbag’s pale eyes, a little bloodshot, were wide as he blinked at me. He nodded.

“You think about the fact that I could crush your fucking skull with one hand if I wanted to the next time you decide to throw some fucking rocks, you got it?”

Another nod.

By now, I’d realized something else was going on, because it was far too quiet around me. Far,fartoo quiet.

I dropped Dickbag, then turned, slowly.

Oh.

I really hoped he’d shifted in the car.

But yeah, a big-ass pissed-as-fuck Xoloitzcuintli with his teeth bared and his shoulders hunched would definitely be a bit more intimidating than my pretty ass.

The cop on the ground definitely wasn’t looking at me at all. He was staring at Taavi, and looked fuckingterrified.

“Hey.”

Wide brown eyes skipped up to me. His nose looked broken and was bleeding, and the swelling and pinkish discoloration on his face told me he was going to have some godawful bruises in the morning. I held out a hand.

The cop looked back at Taavi.

“He won’t bite you if you don’t act like a dumbass,” I told him.

I watched the cop swallow, then—still half-looking at Taavi—he reached up and took my hand, letting me pull him to his feet.

The chanting was still going on across the street—closer to the courthouse—but the block around us had quieted, people trying to slip away so they weren’t part of whatever the fuck had just happened.