Wicked Chase

♚ Chapter Eighteen

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

It was like a movie in slow motion.

The knife was what I saw first and the man that held the knife tightly against his palm, disguising it and hiding it on the backside of his hand that was halfway slipped up his suit jacket - he caught me. I only realised that most of the couples that were giving Philip and I stares were now glancing at the man.

This was a set up.

And just when realisation dawned my face, the man edged closer, his arm brushing mine as he danced about like nothing had gone wrong, like everything was still the same from four minutes ago before I felt a sharp, intense and quick pain flash through my shin. I let go of Philip quickly, pushing him behind me as I glared at the man that stood before me, the pain that he had subtly inflicted upon my shin growing more painful by the second. But I couldn't bring myself to look away from the man and the more I stared at him, the more his features become sharper. And suddenly my throat went dry.

I had seen him before. He was one of the five men that attacked me, one of the five men that sent Alastair and I driving right towards Deidrif and leaving my mother behind.

The ache in my shin grew more stronger but I gritted my teeth together to try my best to subside the pain. All he did was jab it with the back side of his foot that seemed strangely sharp but it was the same shin that the Lockteer had done it's terrible work on and that leg was still weak.

Anger bubbled inside of me and I barred my teeth, trying to keep my anger in control because now Philip was staring at me inquisitively but then his gaze shifted to the man that had stopped dancing too before realisation dawned his face.

The guards that were posted in every corner of the room easily caught the fact that something wasn't right in the centre of the dance floor where I was standing with Philip beside me and they began to advance. However, they didn't get far because the next thing I knew all the ladies and men that were dancing on the dancefloor with Philip and I formed a circle around Philip, the man and I and started chanting, their words too rushed in synchronization that I couldn't catch what they said. But whatever they were saying, whatever spell they were casting repeatedly, did it's job and sent several of the guards flying back.

"You look so different with that crown on your head," the man sneered, his voice deep and gruff and at the back of my mind I remembered hearing that voice when I was talking over the phone with the man that killed my mother. But this was not that man that held up most of the conversation with Alastair and I in his Jeep that day. This was one of the men that helped kill my mother.

Hot raw anger seared through me and soon I was glaring at that man, gritting out through clenched teeth, "what do you want with me?"

"It's not what I want with you, Princess," the man smiled, his dark hair falling over his dark eyes in a spine-chilling manner. The grin he wore was humorous but so dark and sinister. "It's what The Dark King wants to do with you."

"Leave her alone!" Philip shouted, his body building up with tension when I laid my hand on his arm and pushed him back. I didn't know if Philip knew how to fight but I sure as hell knew how to fight and nobody was taking me anywhere.

The ballroom was dead silent as fear, panic and worry dampened the atmosphere around the room. As I glared at the man, my hand on Philip, daring the man with my eyes to make a move so that I'd have an excuse to hurt him - hurt him like how he tried to hurt me, hurt him like how he hurt my mother - there was a distant sound of shoes padding across the floor before a shout, "leave my daughter alone, Randall!" resonated loudly within the walls of the ballroom.