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

sprinkled some fresh coriander. “Believe me, it crossed my mind.”

“Had a weird dream. You want to hear about it?”

Faustus smeared ketchup over his slice. “Was I in it?”

“Erin and Ivan. They were snakes.”

“That’s certainly Freudian. Any trains going into tunnels?”

“Sometimes a snake is just a snake, Faustus. I dunno. Maybe it doesn’t mean anything but then if it does, it’ll only make sense when it’s too late.” Billi slapped her omelette between two slices of toast. It smelt delicious. When was the last time she’d had a proper cooked breakfast? When had she had a proper breakfast? Nowadays it was coffee and a banana, if she remembered. Her mouth watered and she bit in. The chillies set her mouth all a-tingling. She closed her eyes as she chewed, giving each of her taste-buds a chance to wake up and enjoy the treat.

When she opened them she realised he was looking at her, a wry smile over his lips. The sun was just rising, the light was streaming through the small window and in that magical half-glow of a new day Faustus’s face was a mix of mysterious shadow and easy familiarity. He looked new, reborn. He wore a tee-shirt and his bare arms were tanned, and the left one decorated with the occult tattoos. She could make out the symbols much more clearly. “What do they mean?”

“You know you shouldn’t ask anyone to explain their tattoos.”

“Indulge me, Faustus,” said Billi. “Or did you think you were getting some cool Buddhist quote but it turns out to be the number five special off the menu of the local Indian takeaway?”

Faustus rolled up a quarter of the omelette and pushed it into his mouth. He made noises as he chewed. He licked his fingers before drawing them around one of the tattoos. “This is summoning the goddess of the underworld, Hel. I’m asking her to open her heart and provide her protection. This next band is to Thoth and Anubis, Egyptian divinities. It’s asking them for their aid, pleading that they are wise and forgiving in their judgements.”

“You’re strange boy, Faustus.”

“You give the best compliments, Billi.” He gestured at his mobile. “I’ve texted Lionel. He’s up so I’ll be taking Erin’s scrap book up there and we’ll see if we can find anything of interest. It’s ancient Sumerian, not my area of expertise but we’ll get there.”

“Time’s ticking. I don’t know how long Ivan’s got.”

“You got to trust me with this, Billi.”

She nodded. “Take the spare keys. I’ll meet you back here later.”

“What are you up to?”

“I’m gonna see if I can persuade Gwaine to change his mind, and help.” Billi finished off the last of her sandwich and brushed the crumbs off her fingertips. “We don’t agree on much, but in the end we’re both Templars. I need to convince him that Ivan’s kidnapping is Templar business, not some gangster drama with the Russian mafia.”

“How are you going to do that?”

Billi gazed out the window. The Temple Church was just visible over the rooftops. “By being a good little Templar.”

***

After splashing some water on her face Billi ran across the Temple to get to the church, and downstairs into the ossuary. She flicked on the lights and set to work, laying out the mats and hanging up the gloves. She wiped down the punch-bags and arranged the practise weapons in a neat row, lightest to heaviest.

Gwaine arrived just as Billi was sliding the dummy into place.

He didn’t say anything, not even nod an acknowledgement. He wished she wasn’t in his life, and Billi frankly wished the exact same. The other Templars? She had a working relationship with them, might even call Lance a friend, she could go to him when her dad wasn’t around but he was back in France dealing with a loup garou, a werewolf. Mo? Sure, he was a legitimate mate but he had only just passed the Ordeal. He sat at the table with the other eight, herself included, but his job was to be quiet, listen, and do exactly as he was told.

Billi put the last of the staves on the rack. “You’re wrong about me.”

Gwaine looked around the ossuary, looking for something that was out of place. Looking for something to complain about. He didn’t speak, just went over to the weapons, tutted, and rearranged them. Nothing was ever good enough for him.

“Did you hear me, Gwaine?”

“I heard.” He picked up a pair of light-weight sparring gloves.

“You think I’m not dedicated to the order. That I’m not a true Templar. Why? Haven’t I proved myself, over and over again? Who took on Michael? Who stopped Baba Yaga? Me. What about those vampires we found in that abandoned train station? I was in first.”

“So?”

“What more do you want? Tell me, and I’ll do it.”

“And in return you want me to help find your boyfriend?” Gwaine dragged his palm over his thick grey bristles. “Is that it?”

“He’s in danger. It’s connected with the Ouroboros Society. One of their guys, Reginald FitzRoy, may be behind Ivan’s kidnapping. This isn’t gangster business. This is our business.”

“If what you say is true, why haven’t his Bogatyrs leapt into action?”

“They don’t know London. For all I know they’re busy searching every alleyway from here to Croydon but we’re Templars. London is ours. Ours to rule, and to protect.”

“Nice sentiment. You don’t mean a word of it, of course. You’re no Templar, Billi SanGreal. You never will be. You know why?”

“Because I don’t obey the rules, right?”

Gwaine glared at her. “Damn right! It’s that simple! Yeah, you pay lip service, you know the words and the rituals but you can train a chimp to do what you do. But you don’t believe, not really. You’re just a violent, maladjusted kid who thinks she’s marked for some great destiny. And before you get your knickers in a twist it’s got nothing to do with you being a girl, though that doesn’t help. You’re a danger to yourself, and that I wholly don’t care