Well, if I hadn't been worried before, I sure was now. There wasn't any reason for me to resist, so I allowed Dean to lead me back outside, but my mouth was open as soon as we were out of the doorway.

"Tell me what is wrong right now," I insisted, tone broaching no argument. I knew him: He might try to waffle, depending upon what it was, and my mind was racing. Surely nothing had happened to Angua or John or Bobby; Dean wouldn't have been brooding in a bar were that the case.