Devil’s Kiss

by Sarwat Chadda

  ‘Billi and I witnessed a girl, Rebecca Williamson, having her soul devoured.’

  Father Balin crossed himself, and a long silence followed Kay’s statement. Percy and Arthur exchanged a concerned glance and Billi wondered why. What did they know?

  ‘How?’ asked Gwaine. ‘What will become of her?’

  Kay shook his head. ‘She won’t become one of the Hungry Dead, if that’s what you mean.’

  ‘You sure, boy?’

  Kay’s eyes locked on the Seneschal and there was steel in his gaze. The old man held it, but not for long. Arthur watched, and leaned back into his chair.

  ‘Explain,’ he said.

  ‘A ghul can only be created voluntarily. To become such an abomination you must renounce all that is holy and give up your soul through your own free will.’ He sighed, and Billi wanted to say something. He looked so tired. ‘That’s certainly not Rebecca’s case. She’s fighting it all the way.’

  ‘So she might survive?’ asked Balin.

  ‘No.’

  Gareth tucked his feather behind his ear. ‘And what of the other children?’

  Billi stiffened. She’d forgotten. As well as Rebecca there had been four others.

  ‘They’ve been cremated. We don’t need to worry about them.’ Arthur was chillingly matter of fact.

  ‘We’re avoiding the key issue,’ Berrant said, straightening his glasses. ‘Who’s behind it, and are these four the only ones?’ He lifted up three fingers. ‘Soul taking can only be done by an Ethereal, an angel. We all know that.’ He counted them off. ‘Either one of the malakhim, or a devil or a Watcher.’

  ‘A devil, surely?’ said Gwaine.

  Billi shot a look at her dad. Was this to do with the Mirror? His face was stony blank.

  ‘But it’s a direct attack. The devil would be breaking his covenant.’ Balin stepped into the circle of chairs. ‘The devils are tempters. They can only lead man off the path of righteousness to commit evil. They can’t perform evil directly.’ He gestured to Kay. ‘What the Oracle describes is a violent attack.’

  ‘A covenant?’ Billi muttered to herself, confused.

  Balin heard. She fought the urge to sink into her chair to escape his frown. Maybe she should have paid more attention at Occult Lore.

  Balin spoke. ‘Each class of angel, Bilqis, is bound by an immutable law, a covenant.’ He went into lecturing mode, nodding to himself as he recounted the facts. ‘The Watcher must pass over where a sacrifice has been made; the malakhim can only deliver God’s Word. To change even a syllable would lead to their utter destruction. Likewise devils, as powerful as they are, cannot directly cause harm. They will tempt you, persuade you, to kill your brother, but they cannot wield the knife themselves.’

  ‘It’s not the work of a devil,’ said Kay. ‘We’re dealing with a Watcher.’

  ‘How d’you know?’ asked Gwaine suspiciously.

  ‘Because I used the Cursed Mirror.’

  Gwaine leapt from his chair and pointed accusingly at Kay, but Billi couldn’t hear what he was saying because everyone was shouting at once. Balin stood in the centre, his mouth agape. Gwaine barged past him and Percy sprang up to protect Kay.

  ‘SILENCE!’

  Arthur’s word froze time. No one moved except to look towards him. He stayed seated, but his eyes meant that each one of them, including Gwaine, returned to their chairs. Balin seemed to wake from a trance and, after straightening his cassock, moved back to his place behind the Templar Master’s chair.

  Arthur stood up and walked to Kay. He put his hand on the boy’s shoulder and a pang shot through Billi’s heart to see it.

  ‘The damage has been done,’ said Arthur, seeming almost resigned to what might lie ahead. ‘Nothing escaped, of that we’re certain. But, still, it’s more than a coincidence that a day after the Mirror’s been used we have a Watcher destroying souls. It seems he’s not strong enough to attack indiscriminately. We suspect it’s only by touch.’

  ‘Wait a minute – a Watcher?’ Balin interrupted. ‘Then we know who he is, Arthur.’

  Of course they did. There was only one Watcher free.

  ‘The Angel of Death,’ whispered Percival.

  ‘Oh, this just gets better and better,’ said Gwaine. ‘God’s Killer himself.’

  Arthur ignored him and carried on. ‘He’ll be after the Mirror. He’s weak. Most of his powers are still trapped in the Mirror, have been since the time of Solomon.’

  ‘And where is the Mirror now?’ Gwaine’s voice was scathing.

  ‘Safe. We’ve reinforced the wards around the reliquary. It’s invisible to supernatural detection.’

  ‘First you let that fool of a boy tamper with it and now you trust something this important to Elaine? Don’t be stupid, Art.’

  ‘I do and have. I’m setting up watches, around the clock, on China Wharf Hospital. That girl isn’t dead. We’re to protect her.’

  ‘And use her as bait, yes?’ said Billi. If Rebecca was still hanging on the Watcher might come back and finish her off – tear her young soul from her. She looked into her dad’s eyes. They were dead of compassion. Utterly ruthless. Was there anyone he wouldn’t sacrifice?

  ‘Yes. Bait. Berrant has hacked into the hospital files. Each dead child was the eldest sibling. Firstborn.’

  ‘Christ Almighty,’ muttered Pelleas.

  Billi stiffened. She was firstborn. ‘So this sickness…’

  She didn’t even dare finish her sentence. So Arthur did.

  ‘Is the tenth plague.’

  11

  Billi couldn’t concentrate on anything the next day. She sat there, trying to listen to the lesson. Trying to be part of something normal like everyone else in the room. But she’d been forced into knowing, and being part of, such terrible things that it made the possibility of a normal life – life outside the Order – move further and further away from her.

  There’d been so many questions, but Arthur hadn’t had any time to answer them. They were to set up a rotation watch on Rebecca at the hospital, and leave the rest to him. But Billi couldn’t get rid of the suspicion that things were happening behind her back. Arthur was up to something – keeping things from her.

  Well, sod him. She didn’t want to know any more anyway. She checked the time. She had three hours until her hospital watch. But before then Billi was going to live her own life.

  There weren’t too many familiar faces at the local cafe by the time she got there. A couple she recognized from her year, but fortunately no one from her class. She glanced around the low-lit tables: no Mike.

  Billi bought a latte and a blueberry muffin then hid herself in the corner, deep in a dark red armchair facing the door.

  She flipped her mobile open and shut nervously. Was this an actual date? She wasn’t sure. It felt like one but Mike had been so casual about it. Funny, she’d spent her entire life surrounded by men, but she’d never had to, or ever wanted to, understand them in that way.

  She looked around the cafe. This was home to the popular crowd from school. Pete Olson, the school sports star, all toned pecs and gelled hair, stood with Tracy Hindes by his side. She was giggling like an imbecile and wearing a flimsy red dress that would have given Arthur a cardiac if Billi had worn it.

  Billi wondered if this was how girls were meant to behave on dates. Was that what Mike was expecting? She began to feel distinctly uncomfortable. Maybe she shouldn’t have come after all. She grabbed her phone and got up to leave, then saw a girl stumbling out of the toilet door. The girl was wiping her tear-swollen face with a long stream of toilet roll that dragged thick black lines of mascara down her face. Billi’s heart sank as she recognized her.

  Oh no.

  Jane Mulville stared back, horrified. Then she stormed over.

  ‘What d’you think you’re looking at?’ Jane snarled. She rubbed her red-rimmed eyes, smearing her mascara further, creating big panda eyes. ‘Think it’s funny, do you, you freak?’

  Once Billi would ha
ve stood up and just knocked her face in, but she sat there, curiously sorry. Jane was fifteen and pregnant and absolutely everyone knew.

  ‘Listen, Jane, I’m really sorry, but…’ What could she actually say to make it any better? ‘I’m just sorry.’

  God, that was exceedingly lame.

  ‘I just bet you are,’ Jane spat.

  ‘Is everything OK?’

  It was Mike. She couldn’t leave now.

  He shook the worst of the rain from his dark curls.

  ‘Hi, Billi. Sorry I’m late.’

  Mike slung his coat over the sofa opposite her. She had forgotten how good-looking he actually was. The forest of black tattooed vines and spiky thorns crept out from underneath his T-shirt up towards the nape of his neck where his skin was still glistening wet from the rain.

  ‘That’s OK,’ she mumbled, not knowing what to do with Mike smiling at her and Jane glowering. Maybe now would be a good time for the ground to open up and swallow her.

  Mike held out his hand towards Jane. ‘I’m sorry – I didn’t catch your name.’ The smile remained, transfixing Jane. Billi knew how she felt.

  ‘Jane,’ she whispered.

  ‘Good to meet you, Jane.’ He nodded towards the door. ‘I think your friend’s waiting.’

  Dave Fletcher stood by the door, Jane’s white coat over his arm and an ugly jealous stare directed at Mike.

  Realizing she’d been dismissed in favour of Billi, Jane turned to her. ‘Just stay away from me, freak.’ She smiled maliciously at Mike. ‘And you’d better watch out for her dad. Wouldn’t want him slicing up that pretty face of yours.’ Then she stalked off towards Dave and out of the door with an attention-grabbing crash.

  ‘My mistake,’ said Mike, watching the pair leave. ‘Not a friend.’

  ‘No, you could say that.’ It was, in fact, the understatement of the year. ‘Thanks for stepping in – I’m, um… glad you’re here.’ Oh no, did I really say that out loud?

  Mike gave her a long, slow smile, his golden eyes shining with amusement. ‘So am I.’

  And suddenly Billi realized she meant it.

  Normal. It was a normal conversation. Nothing about Templars, about plagues and Watchers. Nothing but the sort of conversation normal people have. Mike told Billi a bit about his dad, sounding so much like hers. Strict, judgemental and pushy. She asked about the tattoos and he laughingly said he’d been born with them.

  ‘When I came in and saw you with that girl you looked like you were going to totally rearrange her face.’ Mike made a mocking fist. ‘Who taught you to fight like that?’

  ‘My dad.’

  He raised his eyebrows. ‘Wow. I thought most daddies wanted their daughters to become ballerinas, not bouncers. Normal, boring stuff.’ He tilted his head across the table so his bright eyes were close. ‘But there’s nothing normal about you, is there?’

  ‘I assume that’s a compliment?’

  ‘I’d never insult you. I’d be too scared.’

  His hands were on the smoky glass tabletop, his fingertips a centimetre apart from hers. Just the tiniest touch forward… Billi hesitated, trying to summon up the brazen courage that the other girls in the cafe seemed to have no problem with.

  Too late. Mike leaned back in his chair and moved his hands on to the armrests.

  Billi didn’t quite know where to look.

  ‘What did Jane mean, about your dad?’ asked Mike, breaking the awkward silence. ‘Overly protective, is he?’ There was a hint of a smile, but Billi’s heart still sank.

  He didn’t know. Not about her mum or her dad’s trial. What should she tell him? Billi looked down at the dark glass and could see her gloomy reflection. If she didn’t tell Mike he’d pick up the malicious rumours soon enough.

  ‘Y’know I told you that my mum had died?’ She looked up at Mike and could see how his face had subtly changed. The laughter was gone. ‘I didn’t tell you how. She was murdered.’

  ‘Jesus, Billi. I’m sorry.’

  Billi closed her eyes; she couldn’t think with him looking at her like that. ‘There was a break-in at our house. Mum was stabbed. She died.’

  She was lying. She had to. This was the official story.

  ‘Did they ever find who did it?’

  She shook her head. ‘It’s more complicated than that. The police arrested my dad. He was tried for her murder.’

  Mike leaned over and put his hand over Billi’s. She couldn’t look up, but could feel the tenderness of his hand resting softly on hers.

  ‘Why did they think your dad did it?’

  There were so many reasons, except for the truth. No one would believe it had been the work of the Unholy. But it was easy to believe a man like her father, a soldier who’d been court-marshalled, a man who’d spent a year in a psychiatric hospital suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder, might turn into a murderer.

  ‘The police just wanted to solve the crime. My dad was an easy suspect.’ She looked up at him. Did he believe her?

  Mike smiled gently, but there was something holding him back.

  ‘He didn’t do it, Mike.’

  ‘No, of course not. I believe you.’ But she could see he wasn’t really looking at her, not directly. He was looking at her bruises: the one on her cheek from the Ordeal, the one on her forehead from her dad’s headbutt.

  Did he believe her lies? She couldn’t tell.

  ‘My dad’s a hard man. And he wanted me to be like that too,’ said Mike as he unconsciously trailed his finger along a thorn on his neck. ‘He had plans for me, wanted to control every moment of my life. That’s the thing about parents, isn’t it? They don’t really want you to live your own life; they want you to correct their mistakes.’

  ‘What happened?’

  Mike laughed bitterly. ‘Whatever I did, it wasn’t good enough. He just wanted more and more.’ He spoke again, so quietly it was almost a confession. ‘So I left.’

  He caught her gaze and his amber eyes flashed with the pent-up frustration. Billi couldn’t look away. It was like having all her own feelings reflected back at her.

  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 responsib
ilities 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.