Will and marcy teamwork

At which point Will and Marcy gave Nothing’s companions an object lesson as to why werewolves instill terror in mortal hearts and minds.
There was a flash of dark fur, a snarl, a horrible, tearing sound, and the turtleneck screamed. He started listing to one side, and I realized that one of the werewolves had just severed the hamstring of the turtleneck’s unwounded leg. We both went down. I twisted out of the leather jacket, though I had to drop the P-90 and let it hang from my harness to do it, and rolled free of the turtleneck. An instant later, a second, slightly lighter brown form, teeth gleaming, darted past the fallen turtleneck and ripped out what would have been the jugular vein on a human being.
Apparently, it was close enough for government work. The turtleneck thrashed in dying agony as mucuslike red blood bubbled from the gaping wound. And suddenly there were two beasts from the nightmares of mankind standing on either side of me, facing the enemy. They were wolves, one large and dark, the other slightly smaller and lighter, but both heavily laden with muscle and thick fur, and their golden eyes burned with awareness—and fury.
Faced with a pair of murderous werewolves, the knife-wielding turtleneck slid to a sudden, uncertain halt.
In the sudden silence that followed, the sound of me slapping a fresh magazine into the P-90 and racking the first round into the chamber was a sharp trio of clicks. Pop. Click-clack.
See, Nothing? I thought. I can make ominous noises, too.
I brought the weapon back up and snarled, “Lose the knife.”
The turtleneck hesitated for half a second, eyes darting left and right, then released it. The steel chimed as the knife hit the floor.
I kept the weapon on him, the trigger half pulled. Yeah, it wasn’t the safe, smart way to operate, but frankly I wouldn’t lose any sleep if I accidentally shot this guy. He was just too damn fast to give up any advantage at all.
“There were five of them,” I said to the wolves. “How many did you handle, including the one that was on me?”
The more lightly colored wolf let out two precise, low barks.
“I got two,” I said. “That leaves this one and the big guy.”


Side Jobs, Aftermath, Page 405