Sarwat Chadda - Devil’s Kiss

The doorbell chimed again and Billi caught the unmistakeable dash of white hair under a black woollen cap.

Kay.

He came straight over.

‘Billi, you’re needed.’ He looked at Mike and the suspicion was obvious. ‘Now.’

‘Kay, I’m busy. Can’t it wait?’ She felt strangely guilty. But I’m not doing anything wrong!

Mike stood up. He was actually a few centimetres shorter than Kay, but his bulk and physical presence made him seem bigger. Billi hoped Kay wouldn’t do anything stupid. As far as she knew Kay couldn’t fight a marshmallow.

‘Another friend of yours?’ said Mike.

‘Yes.’ Kay snapped.

‘Me too.’

Kay edged forward. ‘Funny, she’s not mentioned you.’

Billi took Kay’s elbow. ‘Outside,’ she snapped. She looked at Mike. ‘I’ll just be a minute.’

Billi had to drag Kay outside. He stood with his hands buried in his pockets, occasionally glancing over his shoulder, back at Mike.

‘Why are you here?’ asked Billi.

‘D’you know what time it is?’

What was Kay going on about? She had ages. They’d only been talking for about an hour. She checked her watch.

That can’t be right.

‘Oh yes it is,’ said Kay. ‘You should be on duty by now.’

‘Then why didn’t you just call me?’

Kay shifted uneasily. ‘I thought it best I come tell you.’

‘No, you thought it best to come and spy on me. To see who I was with.’

He stepped back, frustrated. ‘We used to look out for one another, remember?’

‘Used to. Not any more. I can look out for myself. What d’you think I’ve been doing for the last year?’

Kay jerked his head in Mike’s direction. ‘He’s not one of us, Billi. You’re a Templar and you’ve got bigger responsibilities than hanging out in cafes.’

‘Jeez, listen to you, Kay. You sound just like Dad.’

‘And what’s wrong with that?’ he snapped.

Billi gritted her teeth. Kay was the sort of Templar Arthur wanted. Devoted and blind. That’s why her dad was so hard on her – she was never going to be like that.

All she wanted to do was turn round, go back to Mike and not think about the bloody Templars just for one solitary evening. She shook her head. She obviously wasn’t even going to be allowed that.

‘Just give me a minute.’

‘Now.’

‘Just give me a minute!’ Billi shouted. Kay almost said something, then turned away.

Billi wandered back into the cafe.

‘I have to go, Mike.’

‘You in trouble with your boyfriend? Sorry, I didn’t realize.’

Boyfriend? Kay? ‘No! It’s just… my dad wants me home.’

Mike put his hand on her shoulder, but she gently pushed it away. She’d never have any peace and it wasn’t fair to get him caught in the middle.

‘Goodbye, Mike. I’m sorry.’ Yes, really sorry. She glanced over at Kay, fuming by the door. She hated what he was turning into: a Templar through and through.

‘Listen, Billi. If things are hard at home with your dad, I understand.’ He smiled. ‘Been there, done that, if you know what I mean.’ He took her coat and helped her put it on, a curiously old-fashioned gesture that took her by surprise. Billi could feel Kay’s blood boiling from here.

Good.

‘Just give me a shout if you want a break. Get away from… whatever,’ Mike added.

He leaned forward and their faces were a few centimetres apart. She could see her reflection in his golden eyes. Mike’s neck muscles tensed and she stared at the long curve of his throat down into his T-shirt. She stepped away, flustered. Suddenly it was all too hot and stuffy in here.

‘I’ll see you around, Mike.’

He just wanted more and more. Billi couldn’t get Mike’s words out of her head. She sat in the back of Berrant’s van, hunched over the small monitor, watching the corridor of the children’s ward in ghostly black and white.

Gareth was sitting in the driver’s seat under a blanket, eyes half closed. He’d stir every few minutes, take a sip of ebony-black coffee, then drift off again.

More and more. No matter how much time she dedicated to the Templars her dad always wanted more. Did he treat the other knights like that? She couldn’t even have a few hours to herself without the Order smashing it all up.

And Mike understood. The only thing good about being on watch was she could go over the date again and again. She really wanted to see him again. But how? Her dad would never let her be free. The harder she worked the more responsibilities he piled on to her. She was trapped.

So I left.

Billi got home after the watch and was asleep the moment her head hit the pillow. She made it through the next day only because it was Saturday. She thought about calling Mike, but seemed to have left her mobile in Berrant’s van. And, anyway, what use would it be? But the more she thought about how her dad dictated every minuscule aspect of her life, the more she thought about what Mike had said.

Evening came around too quickly. Billi crossed the dark, empty courtyard and made her way down into the catacombs.

The armoury was alive with the clatter of weapons and thumping of punches and kicks. Billi chucked her bag in a corner and found a spot to perform her warm-ups. Even Kay was here – that was a first. He was red faced and absolutely soaked in sweat, practising unarmed combat with the hulking Bors. There were no weight categories in real fights, so Arthur made everyone train against everyone. Billi winced as Bors slammed his shoulder into Kay’s chest, catapulting him across the practice mat.

‘He won’t be much good as an Oracle if you knock his brains out,’ said Billi. Bors just grunted; when it came to Oracles he felt the same way as Gwaine did. Kay lifted himself off the mat and waved at her. She ignored him.

She looked around the catacomb. Still no Arthur, and Percy was at work fighting Pelleas. Percy wielded a heavy axe as though it was made of balsa wood. Pelleas, bandages now gone, darted under and between blows, weaving a web of steel with his rapier and main gauche. Gareth sat on a stool, carefully wrapping fresh fletching to a quiver of arrows. An array of arrowheads lay on the table. Armour-piercing bodkins, barbed tips, even the forked rope cutters. All brightly polished and razor sharp.

Pelleas broke off and stepped away so Billi lifted up a quarterstaff. The straight two-metre pole was about as thick as her wrist and made of heavy oak. It was smooth and oiled from years of use. Billi raised it over her head and listened to her shoulder blades click.

‘Whenever you’re ready,’ said Billi. She slid the staff through her loose grip and waited. Percy dropped his axe and reached for one of the bokkens. It looked half-sized in his hand.

She went into guard, holding her weapon at waist height, an end pointed at the centre of Percy’s chest.

‘Where’s Dad?’

Percy circled her. He held the sword in a single grip, and tapped it against hers. ‘Out. Where else?’

‘Nice of him to mention it.’

Percy snorted. ‘Why would he do that? You know Art.’

Yes, why would he? She was made to miss out on her own life for these watches and training sessions, but her dad could do what he bloody liked.

‘Has he always been like this, Percy?’

Percy had known Dad since they’d served in the Royal Marines together. He’d been best man at her parents’ wedding and had been chosen to be her godfather. If her dad had a friend, it was this man in front of her. Percy slowly took the sword in a two-handed grip. Billi watched his fingers flex round the hilt.