Devil’s Kiss

26

Billi expected to feel pain or intense heat as he touched her. But, no, it was just a simple, lukewarm palm. Nothing special about it at all.

‘Well, SanGreal?’ He watched her. He stood in the centre of the molten holocaust and the vapours of steam and smoke ravelled around his limbs like serpents. His lips hinted at the merest smile, but the way he licked them was with an eager hunger.

Billi stepped into the centre of the round. It was the oldest part of the church, and where she’d been initiated into the Poor Fellow Soldiers of Jesus Christ, the Knights Templar. She remembered the candles, the nine empty chairs and the others, standing among the stone effigies of former and ancient patrons of the Order.

They were still there. On the floor around her were eight carved stone knights. William Marshall. Geoffrey de Mandeville. Gilbert Marshall, among others. But now their features had buckled and melted into grotesque, worm-like shapes, all nobility deformed and destroyed.

Satan drummed his long nails against a smouldering marble column.

‘You tried to come through, during the ritual. But we closed it down. How?’

He drew a circle in the air. ‘I need no trinkets to come to Earth.’ He pressed his foot on one of the effigies. The face melted like wax. ‘I am not bound to the Mirror. My kind can come and go as we please.’

‘Aren’t you trapped in Hell?’

‘What is Hell, SanGreal?’ He spread out his arms. ‘Hell is the cry of a starving infant. Hell is the begging for mercy then denied. Hell is the betrayals between man and wife.’ He pressed his hands together and the smile stretched. ‘The lies between father and child.’ He tapped his chest. ‘Hell is where the heart is.’ The Devil looked around the ruined church. ‘If God hears every prayer who hears the curses? The cries of pain? The bitter lies? We do. Eventually the torment is so great the Ether tears open and a devil enters the material world.’

‘You’re lying. If that was true the streets would be full of devils.’

‘And how do you know they are not?’

Billi backed away, but she had nowhere to run. As she retreated into the church, into the chancel, Satan stepped closer. Suddenly Billi felt her back against the altar. He stopped.

‘I am here to help you,’ he said.

‘How?’

He pointed at the altar behind her.

A sword had been driven into the large marble block. It stood proud, bright and high. Two metres long, the blade was only a thumb wide. It seemed more a rapier and likely to snap with the slightest impact. The hilt was neatly wrapped in silver wire and long enough for two hands, the pommel a plain walnut shape. Light slipped over its cutting edge like quicksilver.

‘What is it?’ she said, unable to take her eyes off it.

‘A Silver Sword.’

‘Who made it?’

‘I did. During the Rebellion.’

The Rebellion.

The War in Heaven.

‘That sword will kill Ethereals. I guarantee it,’ said Satan.

Billi climbed on to the altar. The sword was plain, elegant and without adornment. No jewels, engravings or runes of power. But it radiated a purity of purpose that all other swords merely hinted at. The first and most perfect weapon.

‘Jesus Christ,’ she said.

‘Him too.’

She touched the hilt and a wave of energy ran up her arm, electrifying her body. She shook once as the fire burst through her heart and then the pain evaporated and she felt swollen with power. Her fingers wrapped themselves round it and she gently pulled. The blade drew out of the stone with no effort. She’d expected it to be unwieldy given its odd proportions; instead it sat in her palm with the lightness of a paintbrush. She carved her name in the air and it responded to the merest suggestion of wrist movement.

‘That sword will make you invulnerable to Michael’s powers.’

‘You’re giving me this?’

‘No, exchanging it. A deal.’

‘For my soul?’

The Devil grinned. He was close and the faint odour of old, putrid meat trickled from his mouth. He walked out of the ruined west door. ‘Come with me.’

Out of the fog crept a rusty old car. It could have been black, but was so covered in grime it was impossible to tell. The paint was peeling off the body like crusty old skin and the engine rumbled deeply like a snoring giant. Billi felt the vibrations travel through the ground and into her bones. The driver wore rags and was little more than a skin-covered skeleton. His eyes, mouth and even his ears had been stitched shut. Old brown blood encrusted the torn skin.

Billi’s hand tightened round the Silver Sword.

The Devil stepped in and settled himself in the patched-up leather seat.

‘I won’t hurt you, SanGreal.’

That’s what Elaine had said. Devils couldn’t directly hurt humanity. But Billi knew she was entering terrible danger. The low lamps of the car’s interior shone warm gold, the engine rumbled softly and the cold outside prickled her.

She stepped in. The Devil sighed as she shut the door.

She watched the city glide by, lit by the orange sodium glare of the street lights, lost and diffused in the fog. The darkness surrounded these hazy spots, deepening in the crevasses of the architecture. Blackness gathered under the bridges, in the empty doorways and many side streets that ran through the city. Billi saw a young girl, not much older than she was, curl up with a patchy sleeping bag in the dark open mouth of an alleyway. Billi wondered if she would still be there in the morning or would the shadows have claimed her? Maybe the Devil was right and Hell was here, just the other side of the windowpane.

The car drove the empty streets and it seemed as though light shrank from it. The darkness crept alongside the wheels, and just out of sight Billi sensed the chill of other things, perhaps the devils that did prowl the dark, answering cursed prayers and promising damnation. They lurked invisible beside her and in the presence of their master. The city beyond the window seemed to fade until all was mist.

Then the car stopped and the door opened. The driver bent low as the Devil stepped out. Billi went next and looked around.

They were outside Elaine’s.

‘Why are we here?’ The upstairs windows were dark. Everyone must be asleep.

‘So you can fulfil your part of the bargain.’

‘You want my soul?’

The Devil laughed, but shook his head. He touched the lock and the apartment door swung open. He pointed up the stairs.

‘I want you to kill your father,’ he said.