Devil’s Kiss

17

So Billi was out. Just like that. Dazed, she left the hospital. The doctor had suggested she get some rest. She could visit again after school. She barely noticed the crowded hospital reception, or the rows of sick children lined up in the corridors in wheelchairs, waiting for ambulances to move them to other hospitals because there were no beds left in this one. Billi glimpsed the tired, frightened faces of the parents, but she was too empty to feel anything for them. Dimly, she wondered if this was Michael’s doing, but he was dead now. It was over.

The house was cold and silent when she entered. Billi dropped her coat on the floor and went straight up into the kitchen, functioning on automatic. She switched on the kettle and tossed two slices of bread into the toaster. She looked around the sparse, ugly room. This is where they’d decided her fate five years ago: that she should be a Templar.

Balin by the sink, Gwaine on the stool opposite, Percy by the cupboard and her dad on this seat. The severed arm in the bin bag had lain right here. Billi stroked its stained surface with her palm. There were old, dark patches, well soaked into the wood. Blood? She wouldn’t be at all surprised.

The front door opened and Billi’s heart jumped. Dad? For a mad moment she thought it was him, somehow recovered and home, and she was up out of her chair and ran to the kitchen door.

‘Billi?’ shouted Percy. He stamped his feet on the mat. ‘Where are you, sweetheart?’

‘Up here.’ She bent over the banister. Maybe he had some news. ‘Anything? How’s Dad?’

‘He’s resting.’ The steps creaked as Percy came up. ‘Don’t you worry about him.’

Billi turned back towards the bubbling kettle. She took out two mugs, and the teabags. A lump of sugar for her, a squirt of honey for him. She smelt the milk before pouring it in.

The floorboards creaked as Percy paused at the doorway. She knew what he was waiting for. But she’d quit and wasn’t going back. She plonked the mug down at the far end of the table, took hers back to the other end, and sat.

‘And how are you?’ he asked. He lowered himself on the stool; he looked ridiculous. His knees knocked the underside of the table.

‘I know what you think. But it’s better this way, Percy. I can’t do it.’ She looked up at him. ‘I led him there. Because of me Dad was almost killed.’

‘Arthur would have faced him eventually, Billi. This is not just your doing. The war against the Unholy takes its toll.’

Like she didn’t know. Her mum, her dad, almost. The Knights Templar were just one bad day from extinction. But that was not her problem any more.

Percy drained his mug. ‘I’ve asked Gwaine to keep watches on Art. It does seem that Michael’s dead, but something doesn’t feel right. It’s better to be safe than sorry.’

‘Think someone might try something?’ Arthur had a lot of enemies. A Hell of a lot.

‘That’s why I want him guarded.’ He looked around the kitchen. ‘I’ll base myself here.’ He grinned at her. ‘Play babysitter for a while. I’ll bring my stuff over tonight. It’ll be just like old times, won’t it?’

Billi nodded. She didn’t want to be here alone. Percy would look after her; he always had. He leaned over and kissed her forehead. ‘You get some sleep.’

Billi watched the people from the study window that evening. The Inner Temple was busy. She’d never seen so many out here, especially this time of night. Kay peered out over her shoulder, his hair gently brushing her cheek.

‘Balin will be pleased,’ he said. ‘Don’t think the church’s been so busy.’

He was right; they were all headed to Temple Church. Or St Bride’s. Or St Paul ’s. Maybe off to Regent’s Park mosque. The stream was steady, dozens of people all making their way through the darkened street. Lots with kids.

‘The faithful,’ said Kay.

‘The fearful.’ replied Billi. The newspapers were full of stories about mysterious sicknesses. Was it some new superbug? Or some new food scare? No one knew. Every kid with even the smallest cough or temperature was being rushed to hospital. They’d only touched the tip of the iceberg. Michael had managed to infect a dozen places while they’d been watching China Wharf, and not just hospitals. Billi felt sick at the thought that he’d probably been doing it just before he met her in the cafe – before he’d tempted her up on to the tower.

She looked down at the people on the streets and wondered how much worse it would have been if he’d got his hands on the Mirror. But this hysteria wouldn’t last. Now that Michael was gone the kids he’d infected would recover. The panic would pass and the churches would be empty again.

‘Billi…’

‘Forget it, Kay. I’ve had this talk with Percy already.’ She turned from the window. ‘I’ve quit.’

‘But why? We beat Michael. We saved all the firstborn. You did good.’

‘Did I?’ Then why did she feel that dreadful hollowness inside? It didn’t seem like a victory. It had been the same after the Ordeal. ‘Dad said we must make hard choices. I did and almost got him killed. I can’t make those sorts of decisions.’

‘So you leave them to be made by people like Gwaine?’ There was a bitter edge in the way he said the name.

‘He making life difficult already?’

Kay sighed wearily. ‘He doesn’t trust me. Thinks my time in Jerusalem may have tainted me.’

‘How?’

‘I didn’t train with Christians alone, did I?’ Kay shrugged. ‘He’s a bit old-school on the religious front.’

Billi watched Kay as he sat on the window sill, fingers hooked round his knee. The moonlight on his already white face made him glow. His hair hung like strands of silver thread, framing his deep-blue eyes.

The study was in the eaves, low-ceilinged with small windows in the pitch of the roof. Densely stacked shelves filled every wall, and barely a sheet of wallpaper wasn’t covered either by books or old maps and paintings. The carpet was faded red, and a large, black-oak desk dominated the room, its upper surface covered in pale green leather. A bronze stand sat in the middle, a plain block with a shallow groove for a pen and two half-filled ink bottles, one black, one red. Her dad’s laptop sat to the left, its screen glowing a soft blue, adding its light to that of the hazy wall lamps. Thick drapes hung alongside the windows, and deep shadows lurked in their folds.

They’d spent hours in the room. Here Balin had taught them Latin. They’d read the old Templar diaries and imagined what it must have been like to be heroes. The stories read like fairy tales and were full of battles, monsters and heroic death. But the tales lied. Battle was stomach-churning terror and no death was glorious or noble. It was lonely, frightening and brutal. She looked at Kay and suddenly she felt fear creeping in her heart.

‘Quit, Kay.’ She looked down at her hands. They were stark-white clean. She’d finally got her dad’s blood out from under her fingernails. ‘Quit the Templars.’

‘I can’t.’

‘Why not? Gwaine doesn’t want you. Elaine’s gone. You can leave.’ The more she thought about it the better it sounded. Both of them with her dad, out of the Order.

Kay shook his head. ‘I’ve duties to the Order. With or without Gwaine.’

‘They’re your priorities, are they?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then why did you come to the tower? That sounded personal.’

Kay faltered. He looked up at her, then quickly away, as if he was worried she’d see something.

‘It doesn’t matter,’ he said.

‘What did Michael say in the text?’

Kay stood up suddenly. ‘I said it doesn’t matter.’

‘Did you miss me, Kay?’

He stalked about the room, glancing at the door handle. He ran his fingers through his hair, pulling at the knots.

‘It’s too hard.’ He shifted uneasily, his back to her, and shoved his hands in his pockets. ‘An Oracle can’t have emotional attachments. It clouds our judgement. That’s why Michael tricked me. I wanted to… believe.’

‘What?’

‘I can’t think clearly with you around.’ He spun round. His face was centimetres away and his partially open lips let his warm breath tickle her eyelashes. He didn’t touch her, but Billi sensed his closeness and it paralysed her. This was Kay. They’d grown up together. She didn’t think of him like… this.

Did she?

He stepped away.

‘I can’t, Billi.’ The pain was obvious as he spoke. ‘I can’t care about you.’

Billi stood there, stunned.

‘It’ll destroy me,’ he whispered.

The door opened and Percy entered, carrying a tray. His sleeves were rolled up on his tree-trunk thick forearms, and he wore an apron, though it barely covered his stomach. He put the tray down on the desk, then eased himself into one of the armchairs, mug in hand.

Billi sank down in her dad’s chair, an old leather-bound seat. How could Kay say that? Not him too – he’d chosen the Order over her. Just like her dad.

‘Any news on Elaine?’ Kay asked Percy, his voice strained. He couldn’t look Billi in the eye.

Percy shrugged. ‘Nope. Art must have told her to hide in case he didn’t beat Michael.’ He looked towards Kay. ‘Couldn’t you, y’know, pick her up?’

‘No. Elaine’s not one of the gifted, but she knows a few tricks. She’s off any radar. If she’s got the Mirror she’s probably in some protected location. There’ll be wards and charms all over it.’

Percy checked his watch. Just gone midnight. He pointed at the phone on the desk. ‘Let’s give Berrant a call. He’s on duty at Crow Street Hospital. Find out how your dad’s doing.’

At least I have Percy. She’d seen her father after school, and Percy had just been there. The big West African, for all his strength and determination, was soft-hearted when it came to her dad. He was probably the only true friend her father had. The only true friend she had.

Percy dialled. ‘Berrant? Everything OK?’ He nodded. Then froze. ‘What d’you mean he moved you? Who’s looking after Arthur?’ Billi jumped up, knocking the mug on to the floor. Panic set in and she stared at Percy’s horrified face. Percy slammed the phone down. He stared at it for a second then ripped off his apron.

‘Gwaine’s moved the watch on Art. Berrant thought I was meant to replace him.’

Billi tried to steady her shaking hands. ‘Where’s Berrant, then?’

‘ Kent. Gwaine’s sent him down there tonight to look into some haunting.’

‘Where are the others?’ asked Kay.

‘Not bloody near enough,’ cursed Percy. There was no one guarding her dad.