Bull’s-eye!
The rock smashes into a shadow, stopping it cold. It’s almost funny how the low demon practically flips backward as it falls. Raffe never needs to know that I was aiming for the other one.
Raffe swings wildly with his sword, slicing a demon’s chest. “I told you to run!”
So much for gratitude. I bend and grab another rock. This one is jagged and big enough so that I can barely lift it. I might be getting greedy, but I lob it at one of the demons anyway. Sure enough, it lands a foot away from the fight.
This time, I go for a smaller, more aerodynamic stone. I’m careful to stay out of reach of the fighting circle, and the low demons let me. I guess my stone throwing doesn’t even show up on their radar. I take aim at another shadow, then throw it with all my might.
It hits Raffe on the back.
It must have hit him on his wound because he stumbles forward, staggers two steps, then stops just in front of two demons. His sword is down, almost low enough to trip him, and he’s out of balance as he faces them. I swallow my heart, shoving it from my throat back down into my chest.
Raffe manages to lift the sword. But he doesn’t have time to stop them from biting him.
He cries out. My stomach clenches in sympathetic pain.
Then, a strange thing happens. Stranger than what’s been happening, that is. The low demons spit and make a distinct noise of disgust. They spit as if trying to get the bad taste out of their mouths. I wish I could see what they look like. I’m sure they’re making repelled expressions.
Raffe cries out again as a third one bites him on his back. He manages to bat it away after a few tries. That one makes a choking noise and spits noisily as well.
The shadows back off after that. After a moment, they melt into the general darkness of the forest.
Before I can wrap my mind around what just happened, Raffe does something just as strange. Instead of declaring victory and walking away safe, like any sane survivor, he chases after them into the dark woods.
“Raffe!”
All I hear is the dying screams of the low demons. The sounds are so eerily human, goosebumps prickle my spine. I suppose all dying animals sound that way.
Then, as quickly as it started, the final scream fades into the night.
I shiver alone in the dark. I take a couple of steps toward the black woods where Raffe disappeared, then stop. What am I supposed to do now?
The wind blows, chilling the sweat on my skin. After a moment, even the wind falls quiet and still. I’m not sure if I should run to try to find Raffe, or run away from the whole thing. I remember that I’m supposed to be on my way to Paige, and that keeping myself alive until I rescue her is a good goal. I start to shiver more than the cold calls for. It must be the after effects of the battle.
My ears strain to hear something. I’d take anything, even a grunt of pain from Raffe. At least I’d know he’s alive.
The wind rustles the top of the trees and whips my hair.
I’m just about to give up and head into the dark trees to look for him when the sound of crunching leaves gets louder. It could be a deer. I take a step back away from the sound. It could be the low demons, back to finish the job.
The branches rustle as they part. A Raffe-shaped shadow steps into the clearing.
Utter relief washes over me, relaxing muscles I hadn’t realized were tense.
I run to him. I put my arms out for a big hug, but he takes a step back from me. I’m sure even a man like him—that is to say, a non-man—can take comfort in a hug after a fight for his life. But apparently, not from me.
I stop just in front of him and drop my arms awkwardly. My delight at seeing him, though, doesn’t entirely dry up.
“So…did you get them?”
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.