He nods. Black blood drips off his hair like he’d been sprayed with the stuff. Blood soaks both his arms and stomach. His shirt is torn at the chest and it looks like he took some damage. I have the impulse to fuss over him, but I hold it in check.

“Are you all right?” It’s a stupid question because there’s not much I can do for him if he isn’t all right, but it just tumbles out.

He snorts. “Aside from being beaned with a rock, I’ll live.”

“Sorry.” I feel pretty god-awful about that, but there’s no point in groveling over it.

“The next time you have a quarrel with me, I’d appreciate it if you could just talk to me first before resorting to pelting me with rocks.”

“Oh, all right,” I grumble. “You’re so damned civilized.”

He exhales rudely. “You okay?”

I nod. There’s no graceful way to step back after my aborted hug attempt so we stand closer than is comfortable. I guess he thinks so too because he slips by me into the clearing. He must have been blocking the wind for me because I suddenly feel cold when he steps away. He takes a deep breath as though to clear his head and lets it out slowly.

“What the hell were those things?” I ask.

“I’m not sure.” He wipes his sword on his shirt.

“They weren’t your kind, were they?”

“No.” He slides his sword back into its sheath.

“Well, they certainly weren’t mine. Is there a third option?”

“There’s always a third option.”

“Like freaky, evil demons? I mean, even more evil than angels?”

“Angels aren’t evil.”

“Right. Gee, how could I have forgotten? Oh, wait. Maybe I got my wacky idea from that whole attack-and-destroy maneuver you guys pulled.”

He heads back out into the forest through the far side of the clearing. I hustle after him.

“Why did you chase those things?” I ask. “We could have been miles away before they changed their minds and came back for us.”

He responds without turning around to look at me. “They’re too close to something that shouldn’t exist. Let something like that get away, and they’ll only come back to haunt you. Believe me, I know.”

He speeds up. I trot after him, practically clinging to him. I don’t want to be left alone in the dark again. He gives me a sidelong glance.

“Don’t even think about it,” I say. “I’m sticking to you like a wet shirt, at least until daylight.” I resist reaching out and grabbing his shirt for guidance in the dark.

“How’d you get to me so fast?” I ask. It must have been seconds from the time I screamed to the time he showed up.

He continues to trek through the woods.

I open my mouth to repeat the question, but he speaks over me. “I was tracking you.”