The Nights of Iron. In spite of the pain, Billi couldn’t help but listen, awestruck.
‘But they were ghuls. The Templars were attacked by ghuls.’
Mike pointed to himself. ‘Created by me. You’d be amazed at how many people would sell their souls for a little immortality.’ Mike let out a sigh. ‘Twelve nights of war and bloodshed. It was glorious. I killed Uriens. Crushed his skull between my palms, but he didn’t tell. If he didn’t know how to live like a Templar Master, he knew how to die like one.’
Billi gritted her teeth and forced herself to look around. Maybe she could reach another beam, or maybe drop to the floor below. There was a ledge about two metres away. But a glance told her it was hopeless. The only solid ground was two hundred sickening metres below her.
Mike winked. ‘And when I found out Arthur had stepped into Uriens’s shoes I came to your home. Thought I’d hold both of you hostage. Force Arthur to hand the Mirror over in exchange for his darling wife and sweet daughter.’
Fire blazed in Billi’s eyes. She was staring at her mother’s killer. Every fibre of her burned with hatred. Mike didn’t seem to mind.
‘Your mother looked at me with those very eyes. So black and so very full of hate. If it’s any consolation she fought till the very end. She just wouldn’t play along and sit tight. I was almost sorry to kill her. Especially since it was clear that you alone wouldn’t be enough to make Arthur hand over the Mirror. It occurred to me, after ending your mother’s life, that the pair of you had been left at home defenceless and yet still no Arthur… He obviously didn’t care about you. Just like he doesn’t care about you now. So I left you, snivelling under the bed.’
‘No, that’s not true,’ Billi whispered. No matter what he did to her, her dad had to love her. She was his daughter – he had to! But as she dangled in the icy winds Billi felt the coldness soak into her heart. Mike leaned closer.
‘See? You believe me, don’t you? And this is the man you want to protect? You owe him nothing, Billi.’ Mike’s fingers locked round her wrist. ‘I only let him go last time after discovering he’d killed all my ghuls. I decided then I would wait and save all my strength for this very special moment. Now it’s your turn, Billi. Tell me where the Mirror is and you’ll be free. Free of your father. Of the Templars. Just tell me.’
‘I’ll tell you something. You’re scum. Murdering scum,’ Billi hissed. Mike’s eyes darkened and for a split second Billi felt his grip loosen and her heart jumped. But then he scowled and instead squeezed her wrist harder than ever until she could feel her bones about to crack.
‘I am Michael, the Angel of Death. It was I that rained fire on Gomorrah. It was I who stalked the streets of Egypt and slew the firstborn. I cast down Satan. I and I alone.’ He stared at her with a mixture of pride and anger. ‘I will bring people back to the light. I am God’s Killer and I will not be judged by the children of clay.’ He shook her wildly. ‘Where is the Cursed Mirror?’
‘So you and your wingless siblings can unleash the tenth plague? I don’t think so. I don’t even understand why.’ She thought about Rebecca and the ones he’d managed to infect with his touch in the hospital. If he got his hands on the Mirror the death toll would be immense. Britain would become a mausoleum overnight. ‘They’re innocent children.’
‘Then rejoice, for they will soon be in His Kingdom. Do you know that Rebecca’s mother prays constantly now?’
He knew? He knew they’d been to China Wharf Hospital? Oh God, what a fool she’d been.
Michael leaned closer. ‘Just think how much harder she’ll pray once Rebecca dies. Think of the thousands, millions of prayers and souls I’ll send to Him after I release the tenth plague.’ He looked up into the cloud-swollen sky. ‘God cannot ignore me then.’ He reached upwards with his free hand, gazing, lost, into the darkness. ‘He will take me back. He must.’
Billi spat in his face. Her muscles were numb now; just a residual dull ache ran down her arm. Her feet hung over empty air and she knew she was going to die. Michael had killed her mother and that hate overcame the fear. He wiped the spittle off his chin, and laughed.
‘A fighter, just like Jamila. I like that.’ He swung her in long arcs like she was a rag doll. Billi thought she’d overcome the pain, but a blaze of fresh agony ran into her shoulders and down her back and she couldn’t help letting out a short scream. Michael continued. ‘Truth be told, I knew you wouldn’t tell. Two stubborn parents – no wonder you’ve turned out this way. Totally pig-headed.’ He smirked and turned his head aside, though his eyes were still on Billi. ‘Isn’t that true, Kay?’
Billi’s eyes were blurred with tears, but she saw Kay, standing at the lift. He stared at them, horrified.
‘Run!’ Billi screamed. What was he doing here? Oh God, he was going to get himself killed.
Michael tutted.
‘Now, now, Billi. That’s not very nice. Kay’s come to save you. How… heroic.’ Then Michael showed her something: her mobile. ‘You left it at the cafe. I just texted him. Thought it was a message from you and here he is. Sweet, don’t you think?’
‘Let her go!’ Kay edged his way across the beams to a flat cast square of floor. He was shaking, but there was a tight grimness to his face.
‘I want the Mirror, Kay. Tell me or you’ll be soaking Billi up with a bucket and mop.’
She felt so helpless! She was so helpless. She thrashed out with her foot, but it just shot wildly in the air, striking nothing. How could she have fallen for it? Fallen for Michael? It had been a con from the beginning.
‘All right, all right,’ said Kay. He was at the edge of the ledge. ‘I’ll show you where it is.’
Mike swung Billi towards the ledge and let go. Her stomach flipped as she tumbled through the air. Then she smashed into Kay and the two of them rolled, banging heads, elbows and knees, over and over on the floor.
Billi couldn’t move her left arm. Ten thousand pins and needles stabbed and poked her muscles and it felt like it was on fire. The sky spun overhead and she was gasping for air. But she had to get up. She wasn’t going to be beaten by the man that had killed her mother. She rolled over and Kay was beside her, groaning.
‘Jesus, Kay. How stupid are you?’
‘But I thought you texted me. You wanted to meet me.’
‘Here? Like under the big sign saying “TRAP”?’
‘I wasn’t the one dangling off the side of a skyscraper.’
Billi spotted a toolbox pushed up against the wall. ‘Listen,’ she whispered. ‘When I move I want you to dummy left. Leave Michael to me.’
‘I can fight.’
‘Trust me, you can’t. Just dummy left, OK?’ But Kay’s face was rigid. He wanted to fight. Billi wanted to slap some sense into him. ‘Dummy left.’
‘OK,’ he said finally.
Billi crossed over to the toolbox and pulled out a large spanner. Her left arm dangled uselessly by her side, but she raised the tool high with her right. Somehow she had to stop him. Michael paused, watched her grit her teeth and stride forward. Kay darted in, on the left, but Michael didn’t respond. Billi brought the spanner down with all her strength. Michael still didn’t respond. The spanner head, a square chunk of steel, shattered the side of his skull.
Michael stumbled backwards. Billi gaped at the deep crevasse, oozing thick blood. Sticky clots hung to his hair and the top shoulder of his coat was sprinkled with red droplets.
But then the bleeding stopped. The gap of broken bone began to reform and the deep dent bulged back out into shape. Within seconds the bone had repaired itself and the skin began to seal, leaving only a thin pink scar. That too vanished within seconds.
‘Is this how you dump all your boyfriends?’ said Michael. Then he struck. Billi tried to block, but her left arm wouldn’t respond. She ducked under the hammer-like fist, but it caught her dead centre in the forehead. Sparks exploded around her and she felt herself falling. She collapsed and edges of darkness crept into her vision, gently turnin
g everything black.
Arms half lifted, half dragged her and she felt soft, warm fabric against her face. Billi’s mind drifted in and out of consciousness and deep down a small part of her screamed that she should wake up, but she couldn’t. She was trapped in this nightmare and couldn’t get herself out. She moaned in despair.
‘Oi, your girlfriend’s not going to puke in my taxi, is she?’ A voice filtered through, someone she didn’t recognize. A door slammed and an engine rumbled to life.
‘Don’t worry, sir. She’s just had one too many shandies,’ said Michael. ‘Isn’t that right, Kay?’
There was a strained murmur. At least Kay was with her. She let the blackness take her again.
Billi…
15
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.
But it looked so small! She tried to cover the injury, but her hands just slid all over the place because of the blood. Tears dripped out, and her dad took hold of her hand. Each time he breathed there was a grotesque sucking sound coming from the hole. Her fingers trembled over his cold belly. The blood looked so black under the dim light, and there was so much of it. She couldn’t stop it. He was going to die. Oh God, what had she done?
‘You have to plug it, Billi,’ he whispered. He struggled to hold his eyes open; they were fluttering and hugely dilated. Billi searched the chamber frantically. She needed to seal the lung. She emptied out a desk and found what she wanted: a reel of Sellotape and a sheet of plastic. When she turned back her dad was unconscious. She could just hear the sticky hissing as air bled out of his lungs. Eyes blurred with tears, she bit off strips of the tape and squared the plastic, covering the hole. She used almost the entire roll to fix the sheet into place until eventually it held. Her dad looked white and his breath was only the slightest breeze. She took his hand; she didn’t know what else to do. It sat in her palm like dead meat, no warmth, no life. Just dead meat.
Then she heard something humming: her dad’s mobile. She found it in his pocket and flicked it open. She recognized the number immediately.
‘Percy, come quickly! It’s Dad!’ She looked at the pale, sweat-soaked face. ‘It’s my dad.’
‘What happened?’ Percy’s voice was tense and the line crackled.
‘He’s been stabbed. It’s bad, Percy, really bad. An ambulance is coming.’
‘An ambulance? Billi, you know you should have checked with me, or Gwaine. The Rules -’
‘Dad’s dying! I don’t give a damn about the bloody Rules!’
Devil’s Kiss Page 10