Oh shit a Were. 
My head was blasted with a explosion of searing agony. My vision turned to flickers of red and spots of darkness. 
Distantly my eyes saw my hand clutched in the jaws of a wolf. Red splattered down from the ragged wrist over his teeth. There was no arm attached. 
There was so much pain, I honestly couldn't tell where the injury was. My entire side throbbed in time with my heartbeat. 
I stumbled back, falling against the wall. I panted as my vision blurred even more. 
Shit, I'm going to pass out at this rate. 
I guess my mind was grasping at anything that might pull me through. The voice of my police academy Sargent barked through my mind. 
"Suck it up O'Shanney! No one here cares who your family is or how much pain you're in! We all have a job to do, to serve our city, to save lives, and we expect you to do yours!" 
With a grunt of blind stubbornness, I pushed off from the wall that was propping me up, and staggered towards the half wolf squatting against the other wall on human legs, who still hadn't dropped my damn limb. 
I panted and swayed a little in the first few steps. 
Come on Angie, you're better than this. Are you really going to let that little punk get away with this? Get moving! You still have a job to do. 
I crammed the torn stump of my arm under the uninjured one, gritting my teeth. For an unmagicked human, petty theft is seen as a relatively light crime in the eyes of the law. But for magical persons like vampires, kitsune, and werewolves, that shoplifting charge gets elevated to theft with a deadly weapon. The weapon being themselves. 
My eyes focused on my still twitching fingers trapped in the punks jaws. From the way he seemed to relish crunching on the bones of my hand or the fact that he was still hanging around instead of running away, he was enjoying this. Staying to make sure I could watch as he ate my hand. 
His charges just went up to aggressive assault with a deadly weapon and malicious threat.
Those were some heavy charges. Heavy enough that no one was going to mind if he got a little dinged up on the way to jail.
With the growing anger, my steps grew more steady. I had to pant a few times to get the words out.
“Give me back my damn hand, you b*stard.”
And then I lunged for him.
I guess the thug was used to dealing with poor helpless humans who would be cowering in some corner gibbering in fear over the big bad werewolf eating their hand right about now.
Sucks for him, he got me instead.
The Were noticed the shadow of my fist a split second too late, his eyes growing wide with shock just before impact. The first punch I threw connected with his jaw nicely, sending teeth, blood, and my stolen hand flying. The second one was more for good measure, than to really get my hand back.  The wolfman staggered back, falling on his ass. Blood and drool was pouring from his snout and his eyes were a little glazed as he sat there staring up at me. 
Wow, he acts like this is the first time anyone bothered to fight back. I really hope that wasn’t the case. I’d feel bad beating on someone that’s lived such a sheltered life.
A bolt of electricity zinged up my injured arm. I don’t know how I knew, it was like a weird craving in my arm stump, but I knew that I needed to reach towards my severed hand. It wanted to come back, it needed to come back to me. 
The hand had been thrown down the hall to land in among some trash, and it twitched in my direction. Pulling my ragged stump of an arm out of its protective curl, I flung it out to my hand. 
A long thin vine of blood reached out to the flopping appendage, latching onto it and dragging my hand back to me.
Eeewww. Why does necromancy always have to be so gross and creepy?
With a sharp yank, the blood vine whipped the hand through the air, and reeled it back onto my wrist where it belonged. With a hiss of steam and a few sparkles, the line where teeth tore through flesh was zipped back together again and, presto! I was healed.
Kari might not be able to do anything else right, but one thing she had down was how to heal her zombies.
I flexed my hand a few times, it was blood smeared but pain free and fully functional. Then I raised my eyes to the werewolf still on his ass. His mouth was still oozing blood and his eyes were huge, focused very much on me and my definitely not bitten off hand.
I flashed him a toothy smile. 
From the droop of his muzzle and shoulders it looks like he finally figured it out. He wasn’t the predator in this situation. And he was about to regret his past decisions.
Very much.