"I will be spending my afternoon getting my bearings. You," Lazarevic's other hand has moved from his side, snaking between them to free the knife from its sheath on his chest and tucking its tip up under her chin before she's a chance to recognize the impending threat. "I imagine you will be seeking medical attention."

He pushes the blade from the tip of her chin down the line of her jaw, looping back behind her ear and grazing her earlobe in the process. There isn't a lot of pressure, and the damage is superficial. But oh, she bleeds.