hit the ground. However, that took up one swing and he had to haul back for another try, and that gave Angel time to lunge from her prone position and grab his ankles, so his next step toward me brought him down as the ax whistled harmlessly past me. He hit the driveway with a thud but kept a grip on the ax, and he was trying to maneuver to use it on Angel when I stomped on his hand.
With a howl he let go of the ax, and I stooped and grabbed the handle and slung it as far away as I could sling. I instinctively wanted the ax out of the equation, since sharp cutting edges make me very nervous. But he used his hands after that, spinning, grabbing Angel's ponytail and hitting her face against the gravel. She did not allow the pain to deflect her, but with an expression of absolute determination reached for a spot on his arm and pressed in with her strong fingers. He screamed and let go, and aimed a kick at Angel's head. Swift as a snake she rolled, and the kick landed on her shoulder instead, but I saw her mouth open in pain. She was slowed down enough for him to jump to his feet. I'd been circling futilely, trying to see a vulnerable spot, but they were so fast it was bewildering. When he jumped up, I insanely tried to block him, but he straightarmed me and my feet in their leather-soled suburban low-heeled pumps flew right out from under me, and with a whump! I landed flat on my back with all my wind knocked out. I was quite unable to move as I heard heavy running steps crunch down the driveway.
Angel's face, scraped and bleeding, appeared over me. "All right?" she asked urgently.
I managed to waggle my head a little, still waiting for the intake of breath that would make me whole.
She ran after the intruder, her footfalls lighter and swifter. But I heard a car start up, and I knew Angel would be back soon.
She was, but in no mood to sit around and rehash our experience. "Into the house, now!" she said harshly, scooping me off the ground with one movement. I drew in some air finally. The relief was immense. Angel's arm was under mine and I was being dragged/marched into the house. Angel had my damaged purse in her other hand, extracting the keys as we went, and she cast my purse down while she twisted the key in the lock. She more or less pitched me into the living room while she locked the door and shot the deadbolt behind us. While I sat there still trying to figure out what had happened, Angel ran to the kitchen, with blood from the abrasions on her face dropping down to spot the floor.
I heard her voice, quick and calm. She was on the phone calling the police.
I struggled to my feet and wobbled into the kitchen. Angel was hanging up the phone. She turned to the side kitchen door and shot the deadbolt on it; then the back kitchen door received the same treatment. She went around the kitchen yanking the curtains shut.
Then she turned to me and I realized she was furious. There was nothing slow and deliberate about Angel anymore.
"When I tell you to run, you run," she said in a low, barely controlled voice. "You don't hang around to save my ass. You were in the way out there. I told you to run."
"Angel," I said, realization dawning. "You're my bodyguard. "
We stood staring at one another. Both of us had a lot to think about.
"Why didn't you run?" she asked.
"I couldn't leave you out there." I reached behind me for a towel and handed it to her. "You're dripping all over," I said.
She took it absently and began patting at her face. She glanced down at the towel and seemed surprised at the red blotches on it. "You have to go to the doctor."
"No," she said. "We'll take care of it. We're not going anywhere until Shelby checks the road between here and town. That's what he's doing now." "That's who you called."
She nodded. She went to look out the curtains.
"You didn't call the police." I said this cautiously, feeling I was saying something quite naive.
I was right. Angel raised one eyebrow and shook her head. I didn't even have to ask why. Angel thought this attack was