Free Be Still My Heart by Jackie Ivie Page A

snickered and moved for the next poke.
    “You will not be so smug tomorrow.”
    “Oh really? What happens tomorrow?”
    “Your death.”
    “Thank goodness! At least that would be a diversion!”
    “You wish a diversion, fool?”
    The rod came in again, and this time Stuart reached out and flicked it with a bare foot. A satisfying crunch broke the rod, dropping both pieces and he scrambled for them. He barely registered the gasp above him.
    “That was galvanized steel!”
    Damn it!
He was trying to look weak and stupid. Not primed and prepared. Good thing it was Oblivious in charge.
    “You got taken for your coin, Bud. This is fiber-glass. Just look.” Stuart flicked at the metal filings of the broken end, trying to make it look like cardboard.
    The boom sound of a bolt being lifted stopped him, and he peered up as the door opened and several gentlemen entered, including one dressed in a sheet. Oblivious bowed to that one, going nearly to his knees. It was difficult to tell from a position in the floor beneath them, but it looked about that low.
    “Oh, thank goodness! A leader. Finally!” Stuart bellowed it, secreting the two pieces of the broken rod behind him at the same time.
    “Your Excellency,” Oblivious greeted Bed-Sheet.
    “Are you being a nuisance to Doctor Findlay?”
    The guy in the sheet had a high voice and spoke English with a heavy accent, probably for Stuart’s benefit. Because until now, he didn’t think they even knew who he was.
    “He is a camel’s backside. I have never had a worse prisoner. Never.”
    Good. It was working then.
    “Truly?”
    Bed-sheet turned to contemplate where Stuart crouched, just inside the shadow. He wasn’t easily seen, if the way the man squinted was an indication.
    “Is this true, Doctor Findlay?”
    “Give me something to occupy myself. I’ll be a model prisoner.”
    “What would you like?”
    “A copy of PHILOSPHY FOR THE AGES would be nice. Hard back. Last printed in 1972. Available from any lending library.”
    The man knelt, his sheet billowed around him, and Stuart had a hard time not chuckling at the sight.
    “Do you know who I am, Doctor Findlay?”
    “Not a clue. But I’d like to take a stab at it. How about Valentino, from his most famous movie role.”
    The guy didn’t even smile. He simply looked at him as if examining an insect from a very superior height. Stuart decided it then. Without the vampire assassin chick in this alternate reality, it was crap. Even with the super powers. Complete crap.
    “I am His Excellency, Sheik Mohammed Hussein Barlick…Ada Majin.”
    Big uh-oh
. Stuart felt his heart sink right to the pit of his belly. He wished the vampire stuff had been real, because then he wouldn’t have to deal with fear chasing after the blood in his veins. He was being held captive by Prince Ada Majin’s father. It couldn’t get much worse, could it?
    “Ah. I see you have heard of me.”
    He couldn’t even hide fear? What good was being a vampire if you had to live like the same big, clumsy, awkward nerd you’d been previously? Stuart gulped around the obstruction in his throat.
    “It sounds a bit familiar,” Stuart told him.
    “It was you who killed my son.”
    “Okay. Maybe it’s a lot familiar. But I didn’t kill anyone. Never have.”
    “You paid for the kill. No. Do not bother denying it. I have proof.”
    Confucius had been more than right about vengeance. Stuart had definitely dug this grave. This was the penance he’d been expecting all along. It was going to be hell, and he knew for certain, because that damned vampire assassin chick had shown him heaven first. He only hoped there was real death in here somewhere and he wouldn’t get an eternity of this.
    Call his bluff, Stuart
. The bank account was drained the moment the funds hit it. There’s no proof. The guy’s bluffing.
    “I’m afraid I don’t know what we’re talking about, Mister uh…Sheik.” What on earth do you call one of these guys,