Holds Anastasia Luccio hostage

I got back to my apartment, shouldered open my door, and found a bizarre tableau.
Again.
Morgan lay on the floor about five feet from the bedroom door. He'd apparently seized my walking cane from the old popcorn tin by the door, where I keep things like Ozark folk art carved quarter staves, blasting rods, umbrellas, and so on. The cane is an old Victorian-style sword-cane. You twist the handle and pull, and you can draw a slender thirty-inch spring steel blade from the wooden cane. Morgan had. He lay on his side on the floor, his arm extended up at about a forty-five-degree angle, holding the sword.
Its tip rested against Molly's carotid artery, just under her left ear.
Molly, for her part, leaned back against one of my bookcases, her knees bent a little, her arms spread out to either side, as if she'd stumbled over something and flung out her hands to brace herself against the bookcase as she fell back.
To the left of the door, Mouse crouched with his fangs bared and resting lightly against Anastasia Luccio's throat. She lay on her back, and her gun lay on the rug-covered floor about two feet beyond the reach of her hand. She appeared to be quite relaxed, though I couldn't see much of her face from where I stood.
Mouse's deep brown eyes were focused steadily on Morgan. Morgan's steely gaze was locked on Mouse's jaws.
I stared at them aghast for a minute. No one moved. Except Mouse. When I looked at him, his tail wagged hopefully once or twice.
I blew out a heavy breath, set my staff aside, and plodded to the icebox, stepping over Anastasia's leg on the way. I opened it, considered the contents for a moment, and then pulled out a cold Coke. I opened it and took a long drink. Then I picked up a dry kitchen towel, went to the couch, and sat down.
"I would ask what the hell happened," I said to the room at large. "Except that the only one with any sense who witnessed it can't actually talk." I eyed the dog and said, "This had better be good."
Mouse wagged his tail tentatively again.
"Okay," I said. "Let her go."
Mouse opened his jaws and sat up and away from Anastasia at once. He immediately padded over to me, and leaned against me as his gaze flicked from Anastasia to Morgan and back.
"Morgan," I said. "Ease off the psycho throttle a little and put down the sword."
"No," Morgan said in a voice half strangled with fury. "Not until this little witch is bound and wearing a gag and a blindfold."
"Molly's already done duty as a beer-calendar model today," I said. "We're not dressing her up for a BDSM shoot next." I put the Coke down and thought about it for a second. Threats weren't going to have any effect on Morgan, except to make him more determined. It was one of the charming side effects of having such a rigid old-school personality.
"Morgan," I said quietly. "You are a guest in my home."
He flashed me a quick, guilty glance.
"You came to me for help and I'm doing my best. Hell, the kid has put herself into harm's way, trying to protect you. I've done everything for you that I would have for blood family, because you are my guest. There are monsters from whom I would expect better behavior, once they had accepted my hospitality. What's more, they'd give it to me."
Morgan let out a pained sound. Then he turned his head sharply away from Molly and dropped the sword at the same time. The steel of the blade chimed as it bounced off the thin rug.
Morgan settled into a limp heap on the floor, and Molly sagged, lifting her hand and covering the vulnerable skin of her throat for a moment.
I waited until Anastasia sat up to toss her the towel I'd brought from the kitchen. She caught it, her expression neutral, and lifted it to begin drying her neck. Mouse is a great dog, but he has to work hard to control his slobber issues.
"So I take it things almost devolved into violence again," I said to them. "And Mouse had to get involved."
"She just came walking in here," Molly protested. "She saw him."
I blinked and looked at her. "And you did... what, exactly?"
"She blinded me," Anastasia said calmly. "And then she hit me." She lifted the towel and wiped at her nose. Some blood came away, though most of it stayed crusted and brown below one nostril. So they hadn't been in the standoff for long. Anastasia gave Molly a steady gaze and said, "She hit me like a girl. For goodness' sake, child, have you had no combat training at all?"
"There's been a lot of material to cover," I growled. "Blinded you?"
"Not permanently," Molly said, more sullenly now. She rubbed at the knuckles of her right hand with her left. "I just... kind of veiled everything that wasn't her."
"An unnecessarily complicated way to go about it," Anastasia said primly.
"For you, maybe," Molly said defensively. "Besides, who was the one on the ground getting pounded?"
"Yes. You're forty pounds heavier than me," Anastasia said calmly.
"Bitch, I know you didn't say just say that," Molly bristled, stepping forward with her hands clenched.
Mouse sighed and heaved himself back to his feet.
Molly stopped, eyeing the big dog warily.
"Good dog," I said, and scratched Mouse's ears.
He wagged his tail without taking his serious brown eyes from Molly.
"I had to stop her," Molly said. "She was going to report Morgan to the Wardens."
"So you physically and magically assaulted her," I said.
"What choice did I have?"
I eyed Morgan. "And you staggered up out of the bed you're supposed to be staying in, grabbed the first pointy thing you could reach, and forced her off of Anastasia."
Morgan eyed me wearily. "Obviously."
I sighed and looked at Anastasia. "And you thought the only solution you had was to take them both down and sort everything out later, and Mouse stopped you."
Anastasia sighed. "There was a blade out, Harry. The situation had to be controlled."
I eyed Mouse. "And you wound up holding Anastasia hostage so Morgan wouldn't hurt Molly."
Mouse ducked his head.
"I can't believe I'm about to say this," I said. "So think real careful about where this is coming from. Have you people ever considered talking when you've got a problem?"


Turn Coat Chapter 23, Page 207-210