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neighbourhood such as this and the last thing we want is to attract the attention of the law. In all
probability I shall make use of this knife with which you nearly severed my jugular vein. First I must kill
his earthly body and then act quickly before his astral body has time to leave it. There is always a short
time when one life ends before the next reincarnation begins, the only time that one so powerful as
Royston is truly vulnerable. And if that chance is lost then the evil will spawn again in a new life.'
For some time they sat there in silence, neither wishing to break into the other's thoughts. Sabat glanced
at Miranda, knew that they could be spending a long time together. Next time he would have no need to
force his lust upon her. In fact their relationship could turn out to be a very intriguing one.
Miranda thought about Sabat, how different he was from the dark-clothed human bloodhound who had
suddenly turned up in the village to hunt them down. Ruthless to the extreme, but he was the kind of man
you could get to like. A lot. Just one nagging worry; she hoped he was not going to ask too many
questions about the fire at the 'Dun Cow'. She'd given up trying to lie to him, told herself it was almost an
impossibility because those hawk-like eyes would search out the truth no matter where you tried to hide
it. And when that cold rage erupted it turned him into a vicious killer, maybe the one man in the world
who could destroy Royston.
The harsh jangling of the telephone in the hall brought them both out of their reverie. In an instant Sabat
saw that it was 7am and that daylight was creeping in through the curtains. They had dozed, rested, and
now it was time for action again.
Miranda glanced at him and he read the fear, the hopelessness in her eyes. 'That'll be him,' a hoarse,
almost unrecognisable whisper. 'He often phones early in the morning.'
'Go get it then, girl.' He tried to take the tension out of the situation. The first positive step in the
destruction of Royston is about to be taken.'
He noted how unsteadily she walked into the hall, the way she glanced at the front door as though she
had a notion to flee through it and take her chance in the outside world. But instead she made it to the
phone and with a shaking hand lifted the receiver. Sabat remained sitting on the couch in the living room,
heard her speaking.
'Yes ... he came last night ... I killed him,' a lengthy pause before she added, 'with the knife you gave me.
God it's awful Royston, the body's in the living room and I don't know what to . . . ' There was a long
period of silence during which the caller was obviously giving instructions and then Miranda spoke again.
'All right, I'll wait until you come.'
When she came back into the room her face was deathly white, every freckle clearly visible. She
swayed, had to hold on to the arm of a chair to steady herself.
'He's coming,' she whispered. 'Tonight!'
Sabat had to check his elation; quite obviously Miranda was terrified now at the prospect of Royston's
return to her house. 'Good,' he smiled, 'and we've plenty of time to prepare for his arrival.'
'That's not the point.' She sat down because her legs were refusing to support the weight of her body any
longer. 'He says. .. ' she swallowed, began again, 'he says that... that it will be necessary to perform
certain . . . rites on your body to ensure that you no longer trouble us. I ... don't know what he has in
mind but he's ordered me to have a hacksaw and a hammer and chisel available.'
Sabat felt his stomach churning, saw again his own handiwork in that tranquil chapel of rest a short time
ago. And he had no doubt what Royston and his dark powers had in mind. An eye for an eye ... a head
for a head! He did not think it time yet to tell Miranda that the very tools she had been instructed to
procure were at this moment lying underneath the mats in the back of his own Daimler down the road.
For truly Royston's body had to be put beyond the recall of another houngan or bocor, the evil that had
been William Gardiner destroyed for all time. And there was but one way to ensure that.
'Let's not worry about Royston just yet,' he smiled and beckoned to her to sit beside him. 'It is important
that for the next few hours we both relax, for tonight there must be no slipups!'
CHAPTER SEVEN
ALONE POSSIBLY Sabat could have managed to relax, maybe even sleep for an hour or two, but with
Miranda at his side that was impossible. He could feel the tension mounting inside her, the tautness of her
body against his own, nerves that were being stretched with each passing minute. He thought, Christ,
she'll have a breakdown long before evening.
He wondered if perhaps an interlude in which their bodies dominated over all outside thoughts might be
the answer but the moment his fingers started to stray inside her nylon garment she was pushing them
away. 'No, Sabat, not that again. Please! I'm just... not in the mood.'
He sighed, let his hand fall away. It was going to be a very long day; why the hell weren't they the type
who could play a nice boring conventional game of chess?
'What brought you to this part of the country?' Apart from trying to pass the time and distract Miranda's
mind from the trials that lay ahead, Sabat was curious about her background.
'Circumstances beyond my control.' She managed a tremor of a smile. 'I was born in London but my
mother and father split up when I was ten. I stopped with Mum and in order to make enough money for
us to live she went on the game. She didn't make any secret about it; each night she'd go out and solicit
and then she started plying her trade at home. She used to keep a rag doll in the window. If it was lying
down it meant she was busy with a client but if it was sitting up she was open for business. Christ, there
were some comings and goings in our house and I got the idea when I left school that it was the easiest
way to make a living. She didn't try to stop me once I was seventeen but I can't blame her for
encouraging me. Anyway, to cut a long story short, Mum went off to live with this client and after a time I
decided that there was no future in being a city whore so I took off in search of better surroundings. The
country always appealed to me so in due course I found my way up here. I managed to find enough
business to keep me going, doing most of my soliciting in the 'Dun Cow'. Then I got in with this coven for
kicks. At first it was fun but all I was actually doing was letting the guys screw me for free instead of
coming up to my place and paying a tenner for it. The worst day's work I ever did was letting Horace get
me in his clutches. After that it was too late to make the break; Horace was just a dirty old man in
comparison with Royston. When Royston gets his talons into you, you've had it!'
'Then shall we say the best day's work you ever did was when you met me,' Sabat said and felt
encouraged by her nervous laugh.
After that they settled down again with their own thoughts. And Sabat's mind wandered away from
Miranda. He recalled that warm Sunday afternoon when a tousled-haired junior public school master had
asked him to go for a walk across the fields. And in due course his train of thoughts led to that
leather-booted colonel's wife. By midday he was fully aroused and frustrated which wasn't a good thing
when he'd got to put himself in a killing mood before evening. He had to be alert, his brain razor sharp.
Sexual distractions could prove to be his downfall.
He glanced down at Miranda; she had fallen into an uneasy sleep.
Sabat had slept during the day, mostly shallow dozes, but during the mid-afternoon he had fallen into a
deep slumber in which he had dreamed. He was underground in a dank, stale place where moss grew on [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]