A very brief extract from Hamelin's Child:
Eddie pursed his lips, still smirking. “I’m going to count to three,” he said. “You either put the knife down or I’ll take it off you. Your choice.”
Michael said nothing.
“One.” Eddie tossed the keys onto the bed.
Michael risked a quick glance at them. Too far away.
“Two. Don’t be stupid, Mikey. You’re far too pretty to damage.”
Pretty? Michael curled his lip contemptuously, fired up by adrenaline.
“Three. OK, if that’s the way you want it.” Eddie tightened the belt on his robe and stepped up to him. Right up – not just out of reach of the knife, but well into Michael’s range.
Michael slashed, but Eddie reached beyond the knife and knocked his wrist away. With his other hand, he punched Michael in the stomach and the knife fell to the carpet. Eddie picked it up instantly and before Michael had time to catch his breath, there was an arm across his throat, a face inches away from his own.
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