Ward stumbled backwards, his heart thundering in his chest. He looked up.
Pushing against the window was a.bird, its wings fluttering madly, its head flattened against the glass.
No, it wasn’t a bird. The wings were leathery. The face was flat and rodent-like.
A bat? It was too large. Jesus, it was much too large.
The fucking thing was the size of a hawk.
It hovered there for interminable seconds, its claws scratching at the pane.
Ward looked into its blood-red eyes and felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck.
There was crimson around its mouth. On its small, sharp teeth.
It finally wheeled away, disappearing into the blackness.
Ward sat down on the edge of the bed, his heart still pounding. He reached for the knife and found his hand was shaking. He got up again and drew the bedroom curtains shut.
Dawn seemed to be a long way off.
LIFE GOES ON
No marks on the back door. None on the office door.
Ward sat down at the keyboard, pressed the power button and watched the screen light up. He began to type.
Sit down.’ The boy spoke with an authority beyond his tender years.
‘No thanks, I’d rather stand,’ Doyle told him, his gaze moving alternately between the boy’s face and the glinting blade of the Stanley knife.
Hassim smiled and held the blade before him.
‘You will never understand true power because you will never have it,’ he said, looking at Doyle.‘I will show you what it is.’
He struck at the servant. The razor-sharp blade carved effortlessly through the material of the man’s jacket, exposing the material of his shirt beneath.
Hassim continued to smile.
The servant remained motionless, his eyes looking over Hassim’s head, as if he were studying the wall opposite.
‘Whatever I want, this man must do,’ said the boy. ‘I tell him to obey me and he does.’
He used the knife again. This time he cut through the servant’s shirt and into his flesh, just below the elbow. Blood burst from the deep cut and stained the material.
‘I tell him he must not move and he obeys,’ said Hassim.
He cut again. This time the blade hacked into the flesh and muscle just above the servant’s wrist. More blood began to flow, some of it running down his arm and dripping from his outstretched fingers.
Doyle took a step forward. ‘All right,’ he snapped. ‘That’s enough.’
Hassim rounded on him, his face suddenly contorted with rage.‘No,’ he hissed.‘l am the one with the power. I will decide when it is over.’
He cut the servant a third time. The wound was deep. It ran from just below the inside of the elbow to an inch or two above the wrist.
Doyle saw the servant sway slightly, his eyelids flickering. Blood was now pouring freely from the wounds. It splashed the expensive carpet beneath.
Hassim took a step back. ‘He will not move until I say,’ the Prince announced.
‘He belongs to me. He serves me.’
‘Because he has to,’ snarled Doyle.
‘Because he loves me and my family.’
Doyle took another look at the servant. His face was pale and there was a thin film of sweat on his skin. Another minute or two and he’d pass out.
‘You’ve made your point,’ Doyle said. ‘Now let me get him a doctor.’
‘I will decide when the time is right. You are only a servant like him. You do not tell me what to do.’
Little bastard. Sadistic, malevolent little bastard.
The servant wavered. Hassim barked something at him in Arabic and the man fought to regain his balance.
Struggled to remain upright before the boy.
Blood continued to stain the carpet.
Hassim held up the crimson-smeared blade and smiled. ‘My word is power,’ he said. ‘This knife is nothing compared to the one who uses it.’
Doyle glared at the boy.
The servant finally dropped to his knees. Hassim turned on him furiously. He swung the blade around and caught the man across the cheek, laying the flesh open to the bone. The boy snarled something else in Arabic and spat at the
hapless servant.
Doyle turned and headed for the door.
‘I did not give you permission to leave,’ Hassim called. ‘Stay where you are.’
‘Or what?’ Doyle said challengingly. ‘Do you think I’m going to stand still while you do to me what you just did to that poor sod?’
‘I will tell my father you disobeyed me.’
‘Tell him. What’s the worst he can do? Throw me out? Because if he does I’ll tell you something Your Highness.’ The last two words were spoken with distaste. ‘I’ll make sure that his worries about you are well- founded because
‘Now, you make one sound and I’ll stick this fucking thing down your throat and pull the trigger. I couldn’t give a flying fuck if your dad’s the richest man in the world or Sinbad the fucking Sailor. Do you understand?’
‘You dare to threaten me?’ Hassim said, his voice cracking.
Doyle nodded. ‘Fucking right,’ he hissed. ‘And you’d better get used to it. Do we understand each other?’
Hassim hesitated.
Doyle took a step closer, the barrel of the gun inches from the boy’s head.
‘Someone tried to break in,’ Doyle said quietly.‘l tried to protect you.
That’s what I’m here for. Shots were fired. You got in the way. What a tragedy. That’s what the police would hear and that’s what they’d believe.
Now, you wanted to test me. You’ve done that. Let’s call it quits and let me get that poor fucker a doctor.’
The servant was lying prone on the bloodied carpet, his life fluid still pumping into the thick, expensive pile.
Hassim swallowed hard.‘You would kill a child?’ he said softly.
Try me,’ Doyle told him.
‘What kind of man are you?’
Doyle laughed humourlessly.
Hassim put down the Stanley knife.
Doyle holstered the automatic. ‘What happened in here tonight,’ he said, ‘is between you and me.’
‘If my father found out about this he would have you killed,’ said the boy.
‘And that’s supposed to scare me, is it?’ Doyle snapped. ‘He’d be doing me a fucking favour. Now, are you going to keep your mouth shut or not?’
Hassim nodded.
Doyle turned towards the door.
‘Excuse me, Your Highness,’ he said quietly and stepped out into the corridor.
Hassim stood staring at the closed door. When he tried to move he found that his legs were shaking.
What the hell happened in there tonight?’ Doyle took a bite of his sandwich and raised his eyebrows.
Melissa Blake nodded in the direction of Prince Hassim’s room.
