Devil’s Kiss

21

She is dreaming. She knows it but cannot do anything but be carried along by the ancient phantoms lingering just the other side of life. These streets she walks have long vanished under the sands, and the hot white sun, the Eye of Ra, has sunk and risen across the horizon countless times since. But the heat of it burns her face and the coarse grittiness under her bare soles feels real and immediate. She scrunches her toes in the bleached white sand and lets the particles tickle her feet.

They come out on to the streets bearing their terrible loads. The poor wear simple tunics of tan-coloured cotton while the rich and powerful are wrapped in sparkling white linen.

But whitest of all are the burial shrouds.

Somewhere in the palace the pharaoh lays out his dead firstborn child at the foot of Anubis. These gods, once so mighty, will fade like this city into legend as a new, greater and more terrible deity takes their place. But religion requires sacrifice, Billi knows this to be true, and somewhere deep inside she fears the price yet to be paid.

The dead line the streets. Rich and poor, slave and noble, made equal. The rows of white bundles seem to go on forever.

But one draws Billi closer. She drifts through the mourning Egyptians like a ghost, pulled towards this one single shrouded figure. Her hand acts of its own accord as it reaches out to touch the familiar face, covered by the thin cotton. Her fingers trace over the cheeks, cold despite the desert heat. Thumb and forefinger pinch the corner of the cloth and she pulls it back -

Kay held her tightly to him as she screamed. Billi’s skin dripped with sweat and her chest ran hard and rapid with fear. She grabbed hold of him and they hung on to each other as she fought down the nightmare.

A dream, just a dream. It’s just a dream.

Eyes squeezed shut she pressed her forehead against Kay’s chest as he knelt beside her on the sofa bed. She wasn’t an Oracle; her dreams didn’t mean anything. Anything. She tried to focus on the back of her eyelids, but couldn’t. Kay smelt. Not in a bad way, but it sparked off old memories, back when they were little, sneaking into bed together while the other Templars talked downstairs. It was the closest she’d felt to being part of a family. Touching him this close, she picked up the warm, slightly oily scent of his skin, not dry and cold as she’d imagined, but strangely earthy, moist. She felt how his chest slowly rose and settled back and realized he wasn’t quite as skinny as she’d always thought. He didn’t have the inhuman physique of Michael, the shape of a marble statue brought to life, but there was hidden strength under his skin, and maybe more than bone and sinew. His arms fitted around her and his hands were soft. Maybe she could rest here just for another minute.

Kay coughed and pulled back. ‘You OK?’ He was blushing. On someone that pale it looked pretty extreme.

Oh God, he was reading my mind. What had she been thinking? Billi nodded and looked around, anywhere but at him. Dawn light filtered in through the small windows filling the lounge with a soft golden glow. Billi slowly stretched from the toes, legs, torso, shoulders, arms and fingertips, reaching upwards as far as she could go, letting the kinks and knots in her muscles slip out. Kay sat there, watching.

‘Why don’t you stop gawking and get me some breakfast?’ Billi wore an old T-shirt and a pair of jogging bottoms. She grabbed a sweater and added that, uncomfortably aware of his presence. She slipped her feet into her trainers and went over to the table while Kay crossed the lounge to the kitchenette. He fumbled around in a cupboard and began putting out the butter and plates. He was all fingers and thumbs, spilling the milk and burning the toast.

‘Dad and Elaine?’ she asked.

‘Still in bed.’ Kay almost dropped the bowl. ‘Separately. Obviously.’

She took a plate off him. ‘Obviously.’

Kay mixed up a bowl of muesli with a thick heavy spoonful of honey, then pushed it over to her.

‘My favourite. Now how on earth did you know?’

Kay ignored her taunt. ‘What’s next?’

Billi took a mouthful. If nothing else Kay mixed a mean muesli. ‘No idea. But I’m sure Dad’ll have a plan. And knowing him it’ll probably be insanely dangerous.’

Billi glanced at her dad’s door. ‘What I don’t understand is why it hasn’t affected me. The tenth plague. I’m a firstborn.’

‘Michael wouldn’t have wanted to give the game away by infecting you. I would have seen it.’ Kay’s fingers curled into a fist. ‘But I’ve marked him, Billi. I know what he’s made of.’

‘What?’

‘What’s for breakfast?’ asked Elaine as she came out of the spare room. She held a cigarette between her fingers and switched on the gas hob. She slowly rotated the end of the cigarette until it caught light and then took a long, deep drag. ‘Better.’

Arthur’s door creaked open.

‘Morning.’ He shuffled to the table and sat. He looked better, but not by much. There was a tinge of colour in his cheeks, and his eyes didn’t look as sunken as they had been, but his jeans and tatty green jumper looked two sizes too big and hung loose over his frame.

He looks so feeble, Billi thought. A strong breeze would knock him down.

Eggs came out of the fridge and were soon frying with mushrooms, onions and a spoonful of chilli. The teas were poured out when Elaine cleared her throat.

‘What’s the plan, boss?’

‘Simple. We regroup and take the fight to Michael.’

Billi rolled her eyes. What a bloody surprise. She looked around the table. Didn’t they get it? There was no way of defeating Michael. This was suicide.

She had to get them to see sense. ‘I think -’

‘We know what you think,’ snapped her father.

‘Have some sense, Dad!’ Billi bolted to her feet. ‘We don’t know if the others are even alive!’

‘Oh, they’re alive,’ said Kay. Everyone turned to him. He shrugged. ‘To draw something out of a person’s mind you need to open your own.’ He pointed at Arthur’s forehead. ‘When Michael was trying to open yours I entered his. He’d hoped to take us out first, then sweep up the others. Big mistake.’

‘Well done, Kay!’ Arthur slapped his palm on the table, his old strength suddenly returning as he sensed the battle turning in his favour. ‘I’m proud of you.’

He might as well have kicked Billi in the guts.

I’m proud of you.

Of you.

Her dad never spoke to her like that.

Hadn’t she done anything he’d been proud of? No. As far as Arthur was concerned if she wasn’t a Templar she wasn’t anything.

I’m proud of you.

Billi reached the door. Her heart shrivelled with misery, but she quashed that. She wasn’t going to go to pieces. Instead blackness swelled and that filled her heart now.

I’m proud of you.

He’d asked her if she hated him, back in the armoury. Why?

Because it would be easier if she did. Easier for him.

She meant nothing to him.

‘Billi?’ started Kay.

She slammed the door behind her.