Jack looked at his boots. He knew he had no choice, yet he wanted Abdul to know what would happen if he cheated him too badly.
The steel whispered from its leather scabbard. The beautifully decorated blade hummed as it slipped through the air, moving quicker than the eye could track. The razor-sharp tip stopped no more than half an inch from Abdul’s throat.
‘Do not cross me, Abdul El-Amir.’ Jack’s voice was like stone. The tip of the blade pressed forward, caressing the soft flesh at the base of the hotel owner’s throat. ‘I am not a man to be taken lightly.’
Abdul smiled sickly, trying to ignore the threat of death that hovered so close to his skin that he could feel the heat radiating from the blade. ‘Of course, sahib. How can you doubt me?’
Jack held the blade still. He knew his display meant little, but it was good to feel the coarse sharkskin under his fingertips, the power of the sword resonating in his soul. He reversed the blade, thrusting it back into the scabbard at his side. He hoped Abdul had not looked at the weapon too closely. The golden hilt was decorated with half a dozen other precious stones, each as beautiful and as valuable as the ruby that had now disappeared into the hotel owner’s clothing. A single setting was empty, its precious contents prised free to buy Jack some time.
Out in January 2015
Jack Lark: Rogue Page 10
