“Just what it sounds like,” John said, pulling the cloth away from his nose and inspecting it. It wasn’t too soaked through, so he figured it was about done doing whatever it was it was doing. Which was great because maybe he was a little on the woozy side. Nothing that he couldn’t take care of, and nothing that he’d admit to now. But still. “You tried deadlocking a werewolf. What the bloody fuck, Carol.”
He frowned, because, really? “And — no. I knew what I was doing too. It was a calculated risk.” Never mind the floor. “This isn’t a big deal.”