‘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!’
‘All right, Billi. That’s all right.’ She could hear him talking to someone, who? Gwaine? ‘How? What happened?’
‘We’re at the reliquary. Dad’s killed the Watcher.’ She forced herself not to look over at the headless body in the corner.
‘There’s a body there? Listen, Billi. You’ve got to move Arthur.’
Move him? She couldn’t. What if he started bleeding again?
‘Percy, he has to stay here. I can’t.’
There was a long pause on the other side. ‘Billi, you’ve got to understand. Your dad’s just murdered someone. That’s how the police will see it. You’ve got to get him out. It’ll be prison otherwise.’
Jesus, this is insane. But Percy was right. She looked at her dad. ‘OK, Percy. But be quick. Be quick.’
‘I’ll be there in five.’ The line went dead.
16
Somehow, between them, they got Arthur outside. They laid him down just in front of the shop door and soon Billi heard the unmistakeable roar of Percy’s motorbike and, true to his word, he was there in five. The wheels screamed to a halt, he tossed his helmet on to the ground and ran to their side. Only then did Billi let her dad’s weight fall and with Percy eased him to the ground. They folded Percy’s biker’s jacket under Arthur’s head, and finally shifted him in to the recovery position.
‘Hang in there, Art,’ Percy said as he took his pulse. He put his hand on Billi’s own. ‘Now listen, we’ve got to get our story straight. Nothing complex. What have you got?’
Kay pointed at the broken door. ‘We’ll say we were walking with Arthur when he saw someone trying to break into the shop. He crossed over the road, there was a fight and he fell.’ Kay looked over at Billi. ‘We were too far to have a good look at the attacker. Average height, average build. Just average.’
Percy nodded. ‘That’ll do. Got it, Billi?’ She couldn’t believe it; they were making up stories while her dad was dying.
‘Got it,’ she said, her throat dry.
The ambulance sirens and lights brought people out on to the street. They loitered outside their porches and doorways, coats slung over their pyjamas and nighties, watching the paramedics bundle out of the ambulance and around Arthur. Percy pulled Billi back to let them work, and then the police arrived. The next few minutes were a blur of questions, flashing lights and conflicting emotion. Her dad had been stabbed. She fed the police the story: the mugger, a scuffle and then him collapsing. No, she couldn’t really remember what the mugger was wearing, or what he looked like, or which way he fled. The police constable soon got weary and took down her details; they’d be in touch.
Billi joined her dad in the ambulance, holding his hand while the paramedic hooked him up to the portable monitors. Percy hugged her. Kay stood some metres away.
‘I’ll be right behind you,’ said Percy.
‘What about Mike?’