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Long before she transferred her attentions to the lower half of his body； Sabat's mind was made up。 Or rather； he accepted that there was no way he was going to be able to break off and go in search of Kent。 His whole body vibrated； his hands going up to her breasts； teasing those nipples so that they stood out hard and red。
Yet it was all so different from the last time； Sheenah was the dominant partner and not just because he wanted it that way。 Everything she did was done to perfection； the perfect bination of tenderness and sensuousness。
'I simply adore circumcised men；' her tongue travelled the course of his scar。 'Did you know； Sabat；' her dark eyes were mocking him； 'that often the ancient Oke Priests circumcised their male sacrificial victims？'
'You read that somewhere？'
'Maybe；' she dropped her gaze； 'or maybe I just know it。 A lot of the time they didn't take human life； just the foreskin as a token。'
'Which lets me out；' he grunted。 'I guess I'll be for the chop if they catch up with me then。'
She took him with a breathtaking unexpectedness； lifting herself up and straddling him in one perfectly co…ordinated movement as though she was mounting a horse。 In that one marvellous second they were joined； a rhythm that began instantly； gently 。 。 。 speeding up。
Two people shuddering simultaneously； not so much as a pause as they writhed in unison； the slow build…up beginning again。 Now Sabat was the rider； a black…maned warrior glistening with sweat； urging his mount to even greater efforts； a headlong gallop into ecstasy。 A sense of timelessness pervaded so that they cared not for anything outside this room which was their own private world。
Finally mount and rider slowed to a canter； then a trot。 Until at last they pulled apart and Sabat glanced over his shoulder at the window。
'It's already dark；' he grunted。 'We'd best dry ourselves and get dressed。 The sooner we find Kent the easier I'll rest。'
A towelling…down that was a continuation of the union between them except that now there was haste in their movements； an eagerness to don their clothes。 It was ten…fifteen by the time they left the house； travelling on foot because the White Horse was only a few minutes' walk away。
Sheenah waited in the shadows until Sabat emerged from the entrance marked 'lounge bar'。
'Kent left about an hour ago；' Sabat's voice was grim； the tension in his tone seeming to crackle like an electric current。 'The barman saw him with another guy。 They left together。 I don't like it one little bit。 Let's try the churchyard！'
She wanted to ask 'why the churchyard'； but in her heart she knew； because right now the focal point of this whole village was St Monica's cemetery。
'Why do you think Kent's gone back to the churchyard？' Sheenah breathed as they approached the lychgate。 'And who is the guy he's gone with？'
'I could hazard a dozen guesses；' Sabat whispered； 'but I don't believe in wasting brainpower on wild possibilities。 We'll find out soon enough。'
The full moon was high in a cloudless sky； the ethereal light illuminating the jagged rows of untended graves with their moss…covered headstones。 Silent and eerie； fringed by a wall of shadow that could have hidden a thousand evils。
Then they saw Kent！ There was something sinister about the fact that they found him so easily； the way he sat almost nonchalantly on the edge of the big grave。
There he is！' Sabat drew back； his warning systems beginning to vibrate； goose pimpling the nape of his neck。 'But whoever he came with has gone 。。。 or else they're hiding somewhere！'
'I don't like it；' Sheenah sensed her panion's foreboding； clutched at his arm。 'He's just sitting there like it was a warm sunny afternoon and he needed a rest！' 'Kent；' Sabat called softly； saw the other turn and stare in their direction。 'What the hell are you doing here？ You'll catch pneumonia。'
'Hello；' the Fleet Street man remained seated。 'I was just reading the inscription on this tomb。 e and see for yourself； Sabat。 It could throw some light on recent happenings。'
Sabat almost broke into a run but checked himself。 There was something decidedly queer about all this。 They had read the lettering on that gravestone the previous night when they had e upon Sheenah lying there 。 。 。 and that had been a trap； too！ He walked slowly forward； a hunting cat suspecting that he might just be the hunted。
Three yards separated them from the journalist 。 。 。 two 。 。 。 and suddenly Sheenah was pulling at Sabat's arm； trying to drag him back； screaming hysterically； 'Sabat。 。 。 he's got a swordr
Kent leaped to his feet； whirled towards them； something in his hand that sparkled and glittered as it was swung aloft； scintillating moonbeams turned to ruby red； a flashing weapon that swung viciously towards the newers； a thrust and blow from the hand of a master swordsman。
Sheenah screamed her terror even as she flung herself forward； disengaging herself from Sabat； spreading herself across his body； an instant human shield。 The blade struck true with a juddering force that almost wrenched it from Kent's hand； the point going in deep just below the girl's left breast； tearing and shredding material and flesh； jarring on bone。 And even as Sheenah sagged forward it was wrenched free； wielded again。
Sabat's brain worked with the speed of a puter； processing data in a split second； collaborating with his inbuilt alarm system； warning him； giving him the full facts； spurring him into instant action。 Sheenah was dead； nothing could save her now。 Kent was turned into a homicidal madman and Sabat was his next victim。 Defence was out of the question so all that was left was … attack！
It took but a fraction of a second before Sabat had launched into action； his whole body flung forward in a rugby…style tackle before Sheenah's corpse had even hit the ground。
The sword blade cut viciously downwards； would have severed his head had he been where he was that split second earlier。 He felt a rush of air； something snagging at his jacket。 Then he hit Kent； his shoulder taking the Fleet Street man in the groin； the two of them hurtling backwards into the solid marble headstone； falling in a heap。
There was no pause； no respite to regain their breath。 The shuddering impact was merely the beginning of a hand…to…hand struggle； and Kent still had the sword！ Sabat gripped the other's wrist； tried to wrest the weapon from his hold but suddenly； it seemed； the journalist was imbued with tremendous strength and cunning！ Kent seemed to go limp； and even as his muscles relaxed； they taughtened into a double…action retaliation。 A knee shot up； found its mark in Sabat's groin； doubling him up while in the same movement the cropped head came down and butted him in the face。
Sabat saw flashing lights that had nothing at all to do with moonbeams glinting on rubies； and a blackness hovered and threatened as though the surrounding shadows encroached to e