Private Royals

Chapter 33

Knight wasn’t in the air long enough to register the sensation of flight. One moment he had been fighting with Waldron through the truck’s smashed cab window. The next, he was half inside the front windscreen of a Ford Focus, the shattered glass giving way beneath the force of his landing.

He wanted to lie there. The damage control centre of his mind was already telling him that he was bruised from head to toe, that his spine had suffered a blow, and that two of his fingers were likely broken. Looking at the awkward angle they’d assumed, he became sure of it. He wanted to lie there, but if he did, he knew he had about twenty more seconds to live — because Waldron was climbing from the truck’s smashed cab, his face as bloody as it was angry, and in his hands there was a knife.

No, Knight corrected himself, it was a KA-BAR. It was the weapon that had killed Aaron Shaw, and had sawn open the throat of Grace Beckit. If Knight couldn’t move, he’d be the next to be slaughtered.

Waldron was free of the cab and saw Knight, helpless. He grinned.

Ten seconds.