‘Praise God!’ she croaked through a crushed windpipe. Billi screamed and ran.
Outside Kay was dropping her dad in the back seat then diving in after him. Percival crossed over in front and waved frantically at her. ‘Get a move on!’
She shoved the door shut behind her, then saw an abandoned trolley nearby. She pulled it against the door, tipped it over and wedged it in place. She turned.
They came out of the mists. Ripples of fog broke apart and they crept towards the car. Five, six, a couple near the gate, she couldn’t tell how many. They didn’t rush, didn’t shout or yell, just approached with steady confidence, their fierce eyes glowing with some atavistic killer’s desire. Just glancing at them, they could have been anyone off the street. Except…
Except for their predatory grace and their too-wide hungry smiles. Despite the darkness, they seemed lit from some unearthly source.
Billi lowered her head and raced towards the others. The engine revved and she dived in through the passenger door. Percy shoved the gears and the wheels screamed as he squeezed the pedal down. In the furious glare of the headlights she saw the strange figures step warily apart as Percy put his palm on the hand brake.
‘Let’s go.’ He pressed the release.
The car rocked, just gently. A pair of bare white feet landed softly on the bonnet, and a silhouette covered the front windscreen as a large dark coat spread over them. A sliver of light caught the bright, terrible edge of a broad-sword, one with a hacking blade and so familiar, then the windscreen shattered.
Billi screamed and threw her arms over her head as glass exploded over her. The car juddered and she felt something splash her face. She kept her eyes shut while the last few shards fell free, and the car stopped as the pressure slipped off the accelerator.
Slowly she opened her eyes.
Percival sat beside her, hands loose either side. His fingers trembled for a moment, then stopped. His eyes stared empty and wide ahead, and his mouth hung slack. Minute cubes of broken glass lay sprinkled like diamonds over him, some caught in his hair, a few embedded in his skin. Billi gazed down and her breath died.
A sword jutted out of his chest.
The Templar Sword. His jacket was awash with his blood. It covered the dashboard and it covered her; she could feel it trickle down her face. The sword had been driven straight through him into the car seat, pinning him. A single, powerful thrust and he’d died instantly.
Nothing flash. An easy kill.
The person on the bonnet hopped off. He walked round to the passenger door, opened it and peered in. He smiled at her and Billi’s heart froze. He slid his dark locks away from his face with his long, slim fingers and tilted his head lower, so their faces were close. Close enough for his breath to chill her, close enough for a kiss. Then those lips curved in cruel amusement.
‘Did you miss me terribly?’ said Michael.
19
A young woman, hair pale gold, with small delicate hands, grabbed Billi by the throat and wrenched her out of the car. She wasn’t even as tall as Billi’s shoulder, but she carried her as if she was a doll and dumped her on the black tarmac.
‘Gently, Eliza,’ said Michael. ‘Billi’s had a hard day.’ The woman grinned at him. Michael smiled back. ‘But I guarantee it’s about to get so much worse.’
Billi lay in a puddle, staring up at Percy.
He can’t be dead. Can’t be.
She waited, urged with all her heart, for his eyes to blink. But no, they gazed far into eternity. Some invisible force squeezed her chest, crushing her lungs until she couldn’t breathe.
Percy. She’d never really been alone – she’d always had Percy. When her dad would vanish for days upon end she’d had Percy. He’d babysat her, he’d cooked, he’d remembered all her birthdays. Billi sank forward until her forehead touched the wet ground.
‘What is it they say about Templars?’ Michael crouched down, pulling her hair sharply so they were eye to eye. ‘You shall keep the company of martyrs.’ He stood up, dragging her alongside. Arthur and Kay were likewise dropped into the circle of surrounding ghuls.
They stood silently, watching their victims, craving to kill. The Hungry Dead, it suited them so perfectly. Including Michael, there were about eight of them; Billi’s eyes were too filled with tears to be sure. Michael walked into the centre of the circle and tore off his coat. His T-shirt was gone and his bare upper torso glistened in the light drizzle as the black web of tattoos twisted and stretched, spikes and thorns growing over his heart. Down his back were two vertical scars, red, swollen and poorly healed.
How? She’d seen his head cut off. Cut off! Michael caught her staring. He stretched his neck so she could have a better look.
‘Can’t even see the join, can you?’ He laughed. ‘Honestly, did you really believe I could be killed by a mortal weapon?’
Billi got to her feet, fighting the fear threatening to drown her. Mike looked at her, amused. Then she slapped him. It wasn’t the strongest blow she could muster, but the most contemptuous. She felt sick, not just for Percy, but with herself. They’d reached this point because of her attraction to Michael. What had she seen in him? Ever? Every molecule in her body recoiled in disgust. He put his hand against his blushing cheek, and slapped her back so hard the blow knocked her down.
‘Never touch me again, mortal.’ He spat out the last word with venom. He strolled over to the car and reached for the Templar Sword. He gazed at Billi as he jerked the blade out of Percy’s body. Billi knew she shouldn’t succumb, she shouldn’t show any weakness to the enemy, but she couldn’t help it. Tears trickled down her face. Percy’s upper body leaned slowly forward, and his face rested on the dashboard. He looked terrible and pitiful with his huge soft brown eyes. She couldn’t bear to look any more.
Arthur lay on his back. He’d lost his slippers and he looked like some doddering old fool, lying there in his dressing gown and pyjamas, wheezing. His top was only partially buttoned and she could see his chest, white and lined with old scars, the ribs pressed hard against his skin. Billi helped him up. She couldn’t believe how thin he was. She’d always thought him so much bigger.
‘Get away!’ Kay was up, brandishing his silver crucifix. He stood in front of Billi and Arthur, vial of holy water in one hand, cross thrust out before him.
Michael circled slowly. Then laughed.
He turned to the ghuls and they laughed too, though Billi saw their hesitation. Only Michael’s presence gave them the courage to face the cross.
Michael shook his head and held out his palm. ‘Kay, give me that.’ He was laughing so hard he was crying. ‘I’ve stood at the right hand of God. I am an angel. An archangel. Do you honestly think that little trinket will protect you?’ He snatched it from Kay’s hand and tossed it away. ‘God gave me a duty. Should man stray, I was to chastise him.’
‘It’s murder,’ said Billi, painfully aware of Percy’s blood splashed over her.
Michael lifted his hands skywards. ‘It’s righteous punishment.’
Arthur laughed. It was a rattling croak pulled out of his chest and it collapsed into a coughing fit. ‘You abandoned Heaven. Cut off your wings.’ He pointed at his own back. ‘That’s why those scars have never healed. You’re a fool, Michael, an arrogant fool. Man hasn’t fallen, it’s you. Do you honestly think God will ever take you back?’
Michael leapt the short distance and grabbed Arthur’s throat, dragging him to his feet. His face transformed, momentarily, into a snarling beast, lips peeled back, his eyes wild and face contorted with rage.
‘It is not I that has fallen, but you!’ He tossed Arthur back to the ground. ‘Once I have the Mirror, and the power of all my brothers and sisters, I will sacrifice every firstborn and God will know how much I love Him.’ Michael gazed upwards into the obscuring mist. ‘I will send Him a million souls to sing His glory.’