The Templar's Curse by Sarwat Chadda (classic books to read TXT) 📕

the first swipe. She lashed out with her foot, slamming her clumpy heel into the side of FitzRoy’s knee. He buckled just long enough for her to add a steel toe-capped kick and all, into his ribs. She just needed to keep him down. The next kick caught him in the side of the head and there was a brittle crack as the jaw came loose.

By now the flames had spread into a pool around him. She took another step back towards the window. The wind fanned the flames while Fitzroy’s skin blistered and boiled and flesh blackened. Fat hissed and dripped off in flaming bubbles. He sprang forward but Billi grabbed the curtains and pulled. They tore free, the rusty curtain rings snapped, and a piece of the curtain rail fell with it but she twisted it like a bedsheet over the undead thing. As soon as it was smothered Billi picked up a nearby chair and smashed down on the body, smoke and flames still rising through the holes in the material. Each time it moved, even twitched, she slammed it again and again, until all she was holding were two splintered pieces of legs.

Faustus came up and put his hand on her arm. “That’s enough, Billi.”

The body beneath was still. The smoke rising off it was no more than a wisp. The fire was gone. “Yeah, I guess it is.” She tossed the two pieces of wood away. “You okay?”

He cradled his bleeding arm. “I’d forgotten how exciting life gets when you’re around.”

Billi grabbed the edge of the curtain and pulled it away. “Now let’s see what we’re really dealing with.”

The body was gone. No remains at all. But there was something left behind. A symbol had been burnt into the warped wooden floorboards. One big circle.

No, not a circle. A loop in the outline of... a snake eating its own tail. The ouroboros.

Faustus looked at it and groaned. “Shit. You really know how to make the very worst of enemies, Billi.”

“What do you mean?”

He nodded unenthusiastically. “It’s the symbol of the Society of the Eternal Snake.”

“What sort of society?” Though by the way the colour had drained from his face it probably wasn’t the sort that helped out at village fetes.

Faustus looked wary, as if the snake might suddenly uncoil and bite him. “A society of immortals.”

CHAPTER 11

Billi wiped the blood from Faustus’s arm. “You’re lucky, it just tore the skin a little. No need to worry about stitches.”

“Hmm.”

With the splinters picked out and cleaning done she worked the bandage up from the wrist, smoothing out any bumps as she went along. There was something weirdly satisfying about this part of the job. It meant the night was over, the battle had been fought. It was time they went home to lick their wounds and celebrate being alive.

She’d brought him to the apartment, where the medical supplies were. The bathroom wasn’t the easiest place for repairs, she sat on the edge of the bath and Faustus was seated upon the toilet, lid down, his top off and arm stretched in front. She tried to keep her attention on the job, rather than his bare chest. He was sitting much closer than he needed to. She could smell him, the sweat, the ash, even the aftershave he’d been using, something scented with roses. He didn’t strike her as the sort of bloke to use aftershave.

He watched her as she worked, just enough for her to feel a little warm. Maybe it was the after-effects of the fight with… whatever that had been. She knew she needed a shower, but it was an awkward thought to have in the cramped bathroom with Faustus a few centimetres away from her.

Remember why he’s here. This is all business.

Billi reached the top of the forearm and tied it off. “Want to get your shirt back on?”

Faustus flexed his arm. “Nice job.”

“You stink of smoke. Have a shower while I put the food out.”

“No worries. I can have a dip when I get home.” Faustus reached for his tee-shirt hanging on the back of the door. He had to stretch over her, almost chest to chest. Billi got a very good look at the Hamsa tattooed to his chest. She could feel his warmth. He unhooked the tee-shirt but didn’t back away, a wry smile on those full lips of his and a query in the arch of those eyebrows. What was he doing? Daring her to try something? Looking for permission to try something himself?

“We have hot water and soap. And a rubber duck to play with. When was the last time you played with a rubber duck? Make the most of it.” Then she backed out, closing the door firmly behind her.

Blimey. What was that?

Get a grip, SanGreal. You’re just feeling hysterical after another near-death experience fighting the forces of the Unholy. It’s the lust for life, the need to connect when you think it’s all over. You’ve been here before. Maybe you need a shower too, a cold one.

She heard the shower come on, and Faustus started... singing? It was tuneless, garbled and half-drowned out by the rattling pipes but it was the song of a guy who was enjoying himself. Hot water and soap were a big deal to some.

Yeah, and standing by the door. What’s that all about? Waiting for him to ask you to come wash his tattoos?

Billi hurried off to the kitchen.

There was biryani in the pot and a few leftover rotis. She piled the rice dish up high on a plate and chucked it in the microwave for a solid blast. Then yoghurt from the fridge, Arthur did not believe in sparing the chillies.

Faustus entered a few minutes later, and his eyes widened as he saw the food laid out. “Now that was worth almost dying for.” He grabbed a chair and dropped a big dollop of yoghurt on the mountain of rice. “Your dad knows how to cook.”

Billi sat