slap of wood on skin.
?Damn it, it?s me!? Hector whispered harshly. Helen saw him
hiding in the shadows, shaking out his right hand like it stung.
?What the hell? Hector, is that you?? Helen hissed back. He came
closer so she could see him better, avoiding a dark lump on the
ground. Helen looked at the lump more carefully and noticed it
was her sleeping bag, the one she kept in the waterproof chest her
father had given her. ?What are you doing?!?
?What does it look like I?m doing?? he responded peevishly, still
trying to shake the feeling back into his hand.
?Camping?? she said sarcastically. Then it hit her. All of those
sounds she?d been hearing at night?sounds she?d thought were the
Furies?had a much more mundane source. ?You?ve been up here
every night, haven?t you??
?Almost. One of us is always up here at night to watch over you,?
he said, and then grabbed Helen?s arm as she turned away from
him in embarra
ssment. ?It?s usually Lucas because he?s the only
one who can fly here,? he continued. As if that made it better.
?And you never thought to ask if I wanted you here, eavesdropping
on my dad and me?? she asked, furious.
Hector smiled at her, smothering a laugh. ?Yeah. Because I can
see how you?d want to keep all those discussions about politics and
baseball to yourself. So private,? he said, rolling his eyes.
?Do you stay all night while I?m sleeping?? she asked, unable to
look at him. He suddenly understood why she was so upset, and
his smile switched off.
?You haven?t had a nightmare in a while,? he started to say.
?Go home, Hector,? Helen said, cutting him off and turning to
leave.