Sarwat Chadda - Devil’s Kiss

‘So what has happened? Isn’t it all OK?’ asked Billi, unable to hide the desperation in her voice.

Elaine’s eyes didn’t leave the window. ‘The cry went out, Billi. Those trapped in the Mirror have lingered in silence so long and Kay has allowed them to call out.’ She turned and she wasn’t just scared, she was terrified. ‘And I’m afraid that someone heard.’

Who had heard? One of the Unholy? Another Ethereal? Arthur was going to do his nut when he found out what had happened. It wasn’t like they didn’t have their hands full already, what with the werewolf attacks and vampire bites. Still, for once this was not her fault.

The night had been seriously insane. She just needed to get the hell out of there. Billi left Kay and Elaine to repair the wards – she was going home. Billi ran across the road. She had five minutes before she missed the train and she wasn’t going to waste another second.

She slapped her Oyster card down on the reader and raced down the white-tiled tunnel towards the southbound platform. If she was lucky she’d be home by eleven, an early night for her. The air rattled with the noise of the approaching train and she leapt up the steps, two at a time.

Bloody Kay! She wished he’d stayed out in Jerusalem. It would have been safer. And what was he trying to prove? How powerful he was? The boy was dangerously delusional. Billi saw the carriage doors opening at the far end of the corridor and picked up her pace.

She slipped through the doors just before they shut, collapsed down on an empty seat and tried to catch her breath. She closed her eyes, but instead of darkness she saw the after-image of the chaotic patterns and dancing lights radiating out of the Mirror. Billi pressed her shaking fingers into her skull to stop the dizzying sensation. It took a few minutes for the colours to fade and the spinning in her head to settle back into the regular rocking of the train. She leaned back and sighed. She’d catch a short nap now and count on her internal clock to wake her at Holborn. It was a ten-minute walk back home from there.

But sleep wouldn’t come. All she could think about was what Kay had done.

Who did he think he was? Obi-Wan Kenobi? True, he wasn’t the same scrawny geek he’d been before, but he was still Kay. And that meant weird. How could she have forgotten?

Billi fished out her iPod and plugged in her small white headphones. She dialled Nirvana up to the maximum and let the music drown out everything. A few minutes’ break from her Templar duties – and Kay – was all she wanted.

The tracks ticked over and she was relaxing into the steady rhythm of the carriage rocking back and forth when the sudden slamming of a door made her eyes flick open and her muscles tense.

They’d come through the interconnecting carriage door and made their way towards her. Three of them, swaggering like they owned the place. Two dropped down either side of her, the third opposite, his legs as wide apart as his grin. She slid her gaze up and down the carriage. It was empty but for them.

‘What you listening to?’ he asked as his fingers brushed the back of her hand. Billi flinched.

What was this? Bully Billi Day? Maybe if she acted dumb they’d leave. Three to one were bad odds, even for a Templar. She said nothing, just lowered her eyelids a fraction. The one on her left slid his arm over her shoulders.

‘C’mon, guys, it’s late. I just want to get home.’ She knew it was hopeless to appeal to their good sense; they didn’t look like they’d recognize good sense if it kicked them in the teeth.

‘Sure you do, just after you give us your ’Pod.’ The boy on the left grabbed for her music player.

Billi twisted her wrist and drove the heel of her right hand into his face, smashing his nose with a satisfying crunch. An instant later her foot snapped out into the stomach of the thug opposite. He gasped and curled up in agony. Billi spun sideways, but the third tackled her and they both crashed down, Billi winded by the impact as he landed on top of her. No time for finesse. She had zero room to manoeuvre so slashed at his face with her fingernails, her fingers hooked like talons. He fought to keep her from getting his eyes, punching her clumsily in the scuffle. Then he reached into his waistband and out came a knife.

Chill terror shot through her veins. The blade wasn’t long, but getting dead was suddenly on the agenda. She tried to grab his wrist, but got a cut across her hand instead. Distracted by the shining steel blade, she didn’t block the next punch; it caught her square on the cheek and suddenly Billi had lights exploding in front of her eyes. The knife came in and she couldn’t stop it. There was a scream.

But it wasn’t hers.

Billi blinked as she stared up directly into the overhead light – the thug was gone. The edge of a dark coat brushed her face as someone stepped over her.

‘He’s got a knife,’ she croaked, still dizzy from that last punch, and turned to see the thug drive the blade into the new combatant. The guy blocked the attack and took the wrist, twisting it sharply. The knife spun away. Then he kicked the attacker’s feet away and the thug smashed down on the floor.

The guy paused. Then he turned to Billi and held out his hand.

‘Let me help you up,’ he said.

‘I’m fine.’ She didn’t need his help. Not now anyway. The train was slowing and Billi gripped on to the side of the seat to steady herself.

‘I’ve never seen anyone move so fast,’ she said.

The guy shrugged. ‘Not too shabby yourself.’

The train came to a halt. Holborn.

‘I’ve got to go,’ Billi said. She stumbled a few steps towards the door, the ground swaying under her feet even though the train had stopped. She was more battered than she’d thought. A pair of hands took her by the arms.

‘I’ll just help you out, OK?’ he said.

Billi nodded reluctantly. She needed to get out.

He led her off on to the platform. The doors closed behind them and the train rattled away. Billi watched its lights disappear into the darkness. She turned and looked up at her rescuer.

He was tall with raptor’s eyes, slanted and amber almost, half hidden under unkempt black hair. A T-shirt was taut over his muscular torso and a tattoo of spiky vines climbed from his right hand to his throat. The thorn along his jaw stretched as he smiled. Billi didn’t think he looked much older than her.

‘Shall we call the police?’ he asked, breaking the silence.

She’d been staring. How embarrassing. She shook her head, trying to turn away from the boy’s gaze. ‘Not worth it.’

The last thing she, or the Templars, needed was the police sniffing around. ‘And anyway -’ she couldn’t help a wry smile at the memory of the thug’s face making contact with the floor – ‘I think you’ve shown them the error of their ways.’

‘Can’t take all the credit, Ms…?’

Billi held out her hand. ‘Billi SanGreal.’

He gazed at it for a moment, then reached out. Billi felt a shiver as they touched. Getting weirder, she thought. But not in a bad way.

His fingers wrapped round her hand.

‘Mike Harbinger.’

‘Y’know, I can walk home by myself. I’m not some damsel in distress,’ Billi said as she and Mike walked along the Strand. There was no one else out, just a rubbish truck collecting bin bags from outside the shops.

‘And I’m not a white knight,’ Mike replied. ‘But it’s en route for me too.’

Billi stopped at the gatehouse. In it was a black door that led to Middle Temple Lane, back home.