Devil’s Kiss

3

Vomit-worthy. It was the only way to describe her day and it was only lunchtime. She’d fallen asleep during Geography and earned herself another detention. Billi had made up some excuse about her Maths homework being late, better than telling Ms Clarke she couldn’t even remember being given any. How could she? Every evening was bloody Latin, Ancient Greek and Occult Lore – the hierarchy of Hell – and every morning was weapons practice and unarmed combat. Maybe the reason school always slipped her mind was because of all the blows to the head she’d received over the last five years. Fifteen and punch-drunk. And these were meant to be the best days of her life.

She’d been excited at first, being part of something big, mystical – the stuff of legend. Being part of the Knights Templar and their secret war against the enemies of mankind – the Unholy.

The Beast Within. Mortals with the heart of the wild.

The Hungry Dead. The corpse-eaters and blood-drinkers.

The ghosts. The spirits of pain.

The devils. The tempters of humanity.

And the grigori. The Dark Angels.

But soon she was lying to her friends, missing classes, gathering bruises and cuts, drifting apart from the other children. The cruel rumours emerged, about her dad and her mum’s murder, quickly circulating around the lonely playgrounds. She kept the teachers’ concerns at bay. She hid the worst injuries; she didn’t get so many black eyes now, and managed most days without nodding off at her desk. But Billi was drifting through her school years like a ghost, barely awake in class, all her life absorbed by her other duties. Could she have turned round and said she wanted out? Be normal? Have friends? Have no more bruises? No more nightmares? No. She’d never been given the choice.

Billi gazed down the queue at the food counter, her stomach rebelling against the stale, lukewarm odours rising off the faded boiled carrots, the grey-looking gravy and the assortments of fried and coated offal. The shrink-wrapped sandwiches looked no more appealing, their corners curled and their fillings smeared under the plastic. All that was left was the fruit basket: a couple of wrinkly apples and bruised bananas.

I should be at home. She felt flushed and clammy, maybe some of that ectoplasm was still there, bubbling away in her guts… The queue shuffled along and Billi picked through the sandwiches. The least offensive was cucumber on white bread. She took one and the two remaining bananas. She added a bottle of still mineral water and, tray balanced on one hand, dug into her blazer pocket for her purse.

‘Oh, look, it’s the free-meal freak,’ said someone to her left. Someone she recognized.

Just fan-tas-tic. Like her day wasn’t bad enough. Billi turned towards the voice.

‘Lovely to see you too, Jane,’ she replied. ‘I see you’ve got your hench-bitches with you today. Didn’t realize the zoo had day release.’

Jane Mulville leaned against a dining table, her skinny legs blocking Billi’s path. Michelle Durant and Katie Smith, her bottle-blonde clones, stood either side.

‘Jeez, what happened to your face?’ asked Jane. Despite the foundation, the bruise on Billi’s cheek still shone through.

I really don’t need this, not today, thought Billi. She could rearrange Jane’s face with minimal effort and sometimes, like now, the urge to flatten that dainty little nose was nigh irresistible.

‘It’s her dad, I bet,’ giggled Katie. ‘He’s way mental.’

Billi’s gaze dropped to where Jane’s legs still barred her way. ‘Do you mind?’ she asked.

‘Yeah, we mind a lot, SanGreal. Why they haven’t expelled you by now I don’t know. Doesn’t say much for the standards in this school that they let the likes of you in.’ She looked Billi up and down. ‘I mean, even the other weirdos here don’t want anything to do with you.’

‘Have you met her dad? Not surprising she’s turned out this way,’ said Katie.

Jane smiled. ‘Is it true, SanGreal? That your dad killed your mum? Cut her neck wide -’

Billi’s tray clattered on the hard wooden floor, the sharp noise instantly quietening all the background hubbub. As one, the hall fell silent.

They still believed that old lie, that her dad had murdered her mother. But then would they believe the truth? That she’d been killed by ghuls, the Hungry Dead? That she’d died protecting Billi, bloody handprints smeared over her bedroom door where she’d been hidden? No, they’d never believe that truth.

‘What did you say?’ asked Billi. Her question was barely above a whisper. Her hands free, they curled themselves into tight, solid fists. In the silence Billi’s breathing seemed loud and she could hear the blood thundering in her ears. ‘Sorry, Jane, I didn’t quite catch that.’ She spoke slowly, pronouncing every word. She assessed Jane’s features, not as a seamless whole, but as an assembly of disjointed, breakable parts. The nose, the teeth, the jaw. It would be so easy.

Katie and Michelle took a small step away from Jane, sensing the threat of violence radiating from Billi. The hall, silent already, now stopped breathing. Jane’s hands trembled, but she braced herself against the table, her nails, dark polished red, dug into the shiny white Formica surface.

‘Billi!’

Billi spun at the shout as a pair of arms wrapped themselves round her. She tried to free herself, but all she could make out was a thick mass of silvery-blonde hair as the person embraced her. She finally pushed him off.

‘Miss me?’ the boy asked. He was tall, knife-lean and albino white. Any paler and she’d have had to have staked him.

‘Kay?’

He winked.

Billi stepped back. It couldn’t be. He’d been such a scrawny bag of bones when he’d left. There were the wispy beginnings of a beard collected on his chin, and his white lashes peeled back to reveal bright sapphire-blue eyes.

‘Look who’s back, the Thin White Puke,’ butted in Jane. Kay turned towards her.

‘Jane, what an unpleasant surprise.’ He frowned. ‘You put on weight?’

Jane went white. It was probably the most insulting thing anyone could say to her.

The frown twisted into a cruel smile. ‘A few pregnancy pounds, around the hips.’

‘What?’ gasped Jane, groping her belly. Katie and Michelle leaned closer. So did the six other pupils at the nearest table. This sounded good.

Kay continued. ‘It’s Dave Fletcher, isn’t it?’

Jane backed away, knocking over a plate of beans and mashed potato. The slimy orange sauce covered her skirt, and slid slowly down her black tights, smearing them in grease. Kay held out his hand.

‘Congratulations. You’ll make a beautiful couple.’

Jane screamed and ran. Katie and Michelle stared open mouthed, then turned and ran after her. There was a long silence, then the hall erupted. Jane Mulville was pregnant!

Kay bent down to retrieve Billi’s sandwich.

‘She’s really going to have a kid?’ she asked.

‘In a few months.’ He handed over the slightly dented packet. ‘Care to join me?’

He acts like he’s never been away.

Kay shrugged.

‘But now I’m back.’ He turned and walked towards a table in the corner of the hall.

Billi bit her lip. Stupid mistake. Kay wasn’t just a Templar, he was an Oracle.

A psychic. Reading minds was the least of his abilities.

Billi emptied out enough change for her meal then followed Kay, painfully aware that the entire hall was watching her. The tray clattered on the table and she dragged out the chair opposite Kay. ‘Didn’t anyone tell you it’s rude to peek?’ she said.

‘You never answered my question, Billi.’

‘What question?’

‘Did you miss me?’

‘A year, Kay.’ Billi didn’t look up from her meal; it was the only way she’d keep her temper. ‘And did you even once try to get in touch?’

‘Billi, you know why Arthur sent me to Jerusalem.’ His lips tightened before he spoke. ‘I had to learn how to control my abilities.’

‘And it took every waking minute? Why? Were you in the retard class?’ Billi ripped open the packet. The sandwich looked even more lifeless. She sighed. ‘No. I haven’t missed you. You might be surprised to learn the universe doesn’t actually revolve around you.’

Billi chewed the limp bread. Yummy; cardboard flavour. ‘When did you get back?’

‘Few days ago.’

‘And you didn’t bother to tell me?’

‘I had work to do. For Arthur.’

So even her dad hadn’t told her.

‘Once, Kay, us being friends was more important than us being Templars.’ Billi raised her gaze from her food to Kay. He had changed, and not for the better.

Bloody Kay, she thought.

He stood up.

‘Same old Billi,’ Kay said.