Ayeth smirked to herself as she saw her father's obvious discomfort. She kept the knife by the back of his neck but relaxed her grip somewhat - she knew he wasn't going try and run. Upon reaching the outside, she dragged him into the alleyway.
"Now, we're going to play a little game," she hissed, "We're going to see if you can outrun my knife throw. If you can, you can leave free naturally. However, if you can't..." she left the sentence hanging.
Suddenly, something struck her and she looked around for Rhian. Not there, who cared? She, Ayeth, had what she wanted now, so why bother looking for the messenger?
She shoved her father roughly in front of her. "Now, on the count of three, you are going to run as fast as you can and I am going to throw this knife after you," she said sadistically, grinning through her teeth.
"One"
"Two"
"Three."