Sarwat Chadda - Devil’s Kiss

Billi…

Billi stumbled as she exited the taxi. Kay grabbed her before she fell. She tried to stand, but the ground pitched and rolled and her sense of balance was precarious.

‘This is it?’ asked Michael. He didn’t sound impressed. ‘The Templar reliquary?’

Billi glanced up. Oh no. Elaine’s Bazaar. Kay really had brought them here. Her fingers dug into his shoulder. What was he doing? The lights were out on the first floor flat. Was Elaine in? Maybe she could shout a warning?

No, it was too late now anyway.

The three of them stood by the shop door. Michael took the handle and with a sharp pull ripped it, the lock and the surrounding wood out.

‘After you,’ he said.

Kay went first, Billi next. Michael kept his hand on her neck, prompting her with a squeeze as she tripped in the dark.

‘The door to the basement’s at the back,’ said Kay.

What was wrong with him? Didn’t he realize what would happen if Michael got the Mirror? Oh God. Was he doing this for her? She shot a glance at Kay. He just stared ahead, devoid of emotion. If only she could think of something. Billi’s fingers wound themselves into fists. But Michael just pushed her along.

Michael smashed the lock of the small door. Kay switched on the light and descended.

Michael’s fingers tightened round her throat. ‘Don’t do anything stupid,’ he whispered. But his voice was tense, excited. The Mirror was almost in his grasp.

The reliquary was as cluttered as before, but there were fresh changes. The wards on the walls were cleaned, re-carved and reinforced with long rows of painted calligraphy and reams of parchment. There was barely a square of wall without some symbol painted on to it or sheet of prayers stuck there. It was like her dad had said. The magical protections had been improved.

A lot.

Michael’s attention wasn’t on the walls; it was on the large black lacquered cabinet. He peered closely at the broken Seal of Solomon on the doors. His eyes, those brilliant amber eyes, now burned with demonic hunger. He tossed Billi aside and she collapsed against the wall.

She’d been so wrong. So wrong. She’d been conned all along. He’d charmed her and tempted her and she had given in to that temptation. And now they were here. A Watcher brought right into the Templar’s reliquary.

Michael ran his fingertips lightly over the bronze circle, as though he’d expected it to be red hot. But the cool metal didn’t reject him, and he smiled.

‘Solomon, you old fool,’ he said to himself. Then he took the two bronze handles and pulled the doors open. ‘At last.’

Then he reached into the cabinet. When he turned back he held the dark-blue velvet box and his eyes were on that alone. He raised it towards the light. ‘Soon, my brothers, my sisters.’ He flicked open the latch and gazed in. He stared and stared, and Billi saw his face transform. The confident beauty faded and instead his visage became grotesque, monstrous.

‘I don’t like games, SanGreal,’ he said. He spun the box round.

It was empty.

Michael grabbed an old sword off the wall, strode over and pressed the tip against her throat. ‘Where’s the Mirror?’

‘Far from here, Harbinger.’ A shadow formed on the steps and slid into the dimly lit chamber. Arthur walked in. ‘I moved it the minute I knew your pitiful siblings’ cries had been heard.’ He glanced over at Kay. ‘We thought you’d come looking for it sooner or later.’

Billi stared at Kay. He knew?

Arthur had the Templar Sword in his right hand, and dangling from his left fist was a small silver crucifix. He stopped at the bottom of the steps, but he was in easy striking distance. Mike tossed the empty box away.

‘No closer, Templar.’ He pressed the tip against Billi’s neck until it drew a blood drop. ‘Arthur SanGreal. D’you know, Billi, they say Satan himself only fears two things in all of existence? The Judgement of God and Arthur SanGreal. Tell me, Arthur -’ he stepped back from Billi, moving away to keep a wary distance between him and the Templar Master – ‘what did you do to make even the Devil afraid?’

‘Come here and I’ll show you,’ said Arthur, edging forward.

Billi took Kay’s hand and held him against the wall.

She’d fouled up beyond measure in trusting Michael. Maybe Kay had been right not to tell her.

‘He killed Mum,’ she said. Arthur ignored her, but his eyes narrowed and his fist tightened round the sword hilt.

‘Do you miss her even now, Arthur?’ Michael’s smile was twisted and foul. ‘She’s waiting for you. In Hell.’

Arthur attacked. His sword moved like a lighting storm, far faster than she could follow. Michael parried as they clashed and the hammering steel echoed loudly between the dense walls. In the poor light their movements were a blur, and she could only stare in mute shock as they fought. Her dad’s face was cold, impassive and intensely focused. He didn’t watch anything but Michael’s eyes, judging his attacks, ripostes and blocks on instinct and the touch of the blades. The Dark Angel’s concentration was no less, but he never lost that arrogant smile, even up to the end. Then their hilts caught, just for a second. Arthur twisted his wrist sharply and Michael’s blade snapped. They stared at each other, the fight over, sweat dripping off in heavy beads, then Arthur stepped back and slashed his blade downwards, catching Michael at the back of his neck. His head slipped off, turned over itself a couple of times then bounced into the corner. The body swayed, then sank to its knees and finally fell forward.

Billi stared as the blood began to pool around the severed neck. The body lay there on its front, arms either side. Michael’s skin was already turning pale as the blood drained out of it. Arthur pulled a dusty sheet off a table and threw it over the corpse. ‘Call Percival. We need a clean-up.’

‘Wait a minute,’ said Billi. She couldn’t take her eyes off the head. Its eyes stared up blankly. ‘You sure he’s dead? I caved his head in an hour ago and that didn’t stop him.’

Kay stood beside her. ‘He’s dead all right. We’ve reinforced the wards down here. Michael’s powers should have been negated once he entered the reliquary.’

‘You planned this?’

Kay looked uneasy. ‘I wanted to tell you, Billi, but Arthur thought -’

‘Percival and I have been rotating watches on this place for the last week, not knowing if anyone would come.’ Arthur sounded strangely hoarse. ‘Though I was surprised that your boyfriend turned out to be the Angel of Death.’

She thumped him on the chest. ‘And you trusted Kay with your little scheme and not me? You wonder why I hate all this…’

Arthur dropped his sword and bent. She hadn’t punched him that hard. He coughed and spat out a bloody glob on to the floor.

‘Dad?’

His face was pallid and he was gasping for breath. Billi pulled open his jacket.

And saw the dark red stains spreading on his shirt.

‘Billi,’ he said, frothy pink foam dribbling from his mouth. His stomach was slick with blood and only now did she see the tear in his jacket. He smiled weakly. And collapsed.

Billi grabbed him, but he was heavy and she stumbled backwards as his legs failed him. Kay rushed beside her and they both eased him down on to his back. His body shook as a spasm of coughing overtook him. The bubbles of blood-flecked spittle were darker now.

‘Call an ambulance, now!’ she shouted.

The wound was just below his ribs, to the right. It had missed his heart, but given the froth it must have taken a lung. He was drowning in his own blood.