The Templar's Curse

by Sarwat Chadda

  Erin looked back, smiling wryly. “Doug always gets like that when he’s had a few, and Alison’s out of town. Tiresome, but safe. But do you mind just sticking with me a while longer? Just to make sure?”

  “It won’t be the first time I’ve played bodyguard.” Billi gestured to the necklace. It was even more spectacular in its scaly flesh than in the photo. Was this what Lawrence was after? “That’s a very beautiful piece. The ouroboros, isn’t it?”

  “Wow. Someone actually recognises it. It’s an antique piece. Mesopotamian, over three thousand years old. It was a gift from my dad.”

  “I guessed you didn’t find this at Ms. Selfridges? Where did he get it?”

  “He picked it up during the Iraq War. Back in the day.”

  “Really? My dad was out there too, Royal Marines,” said Billi. “Afghanistan, then Iraq. Couple of odd jobs after that, mainly working for security contractors protecting diplomats and the like.”

  “A commando? That’s hardcore.” Erin visibly relaxed. “Mine was into tanks. That’s where I’m headed.”

  “Oh?” asked Billi. “What about university?”

  Erin shook her head. “Sandhurst at the end of September. Just like my dad, great-grand-dad and so on. You know what it’s like with military families. We were told too many war stories at bedtime. Dreamed of being warriors.”

  “My dad doesn’t tell war stories,” said Billi. “But I know what you mean. Fighting’s in the blood.”

  Erin laughed. “No more talking about our dads! I’m Erin.”

  “I know. I’m Billi. I came with Ivan.”

  Erin’s eyes widened. “So you are the famous, and elusive Billi SanGreal! I should have guessed. The dress and the biker boots should have given you away. Ivan never shuts up about you.”

  “I hope he edits out all the bad stuff.”

  “Ivan’s an old-fashioned gentleman, don’t you worry.”

  “You can say that again.” Billi gestured back at the house. “Wanna go find him?”

  “In time. The night’s just begun.” Erin stepped closer and stroked her finger along Billi’s neck. “You have to tell me how you got that scar.”

  What was going on? Was Erin doing what she thought she was doing? The look in Erin’s eyes was intimate and held a second or two longer than Billi found comfortable. Her finger only drew off her throat after a long time, gently catching on Billi’s collar as she took a step back.

  Erin stepped nearer. “You’re blushing, Billi. Why?”

  Billi turned as she felt someone behind her.

  Scrub that. Some three.

  The first, a young black woman with short white dreadlocks, looked Billi up and down and smiled broadly. “Aren’t you going to introduce us, Erin? Who is this adorable girl?”

  The second had the palest moon-caressed skin and thick bouncy blonde locks that hung all the way down her back. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

  The third, a delicate-looking South-Asian guy with bangles covering him from his thin wrists to his elbows and wearing a silk paisley shirt and emerald sarong, slipped his hand through the crook of Erin’s arm. “Erin was keeping her all for herself. That’s naughty.”

  Erin broke away from the boy and joined Billi. “These are my priestesses, Billi. They are way too intrusive for their own good, not as clever as they think they are, and likely to lead you astray.”

  The boy laughed. “Billi, is it? Now tell me, Billi, are you a girl or a boy? It’s hard to tell.”

  “Does it matter?” Billi asked.

  He grinned. “And that is the correct answer.”

  Billi stood her ground as she met the trio’s gaze. “Priestesses of what?”

  The blonde girl shrugged. “What have you got?”

  Okay, a clique. The clusters that gathered to play their games of ‘who’s in and who’s out’ in the classrooms and school corridors. Trust-fund kids with nothing better to do but spend Daddy’s money and raid Mummy’s drinks cabinet.

  “Billi, this is Ardhan,” Erin tapped the South-Asian’s thin chest, “and today he is self-identifying as a...?”

  “Namaste,” said Ardhan, pressing his palms together. “A divinity, naturally.”

  Erin rolled her eyes, then continued. “And then we have Phoebe…”

  The black girl waved.

  The blonde girl performed a comical curtsey. “Brigid, at your service.”

  They were tight. Billi sensed the prickly protectiveness they had for each other, not that Billi needed to be reminded she was the outsider here. But she wasn’t going to be cowed by the ‘beautiful people’. She didn’t need to be accepted by anyone, she knew who she was and frankly didn’t care what they thought of her.

  They knew it too. They circled her, looking for that chink in her armour. What would hurt? She wore a second-hand dress that didn’t really fit. Her boots had oil stains and she smelt of fumes and sweaty leather and her hair had been encased in a helmet for the last hour.

  Phoebe handed Erin a glass. “I can’t believe your aunt let you hold a party without her.”

  “Jenny trusts me. And she and Adrian need some time off,” replied Erin. “And Barbados is lovely this time of the year. Not so many mosquitoes.”

  “I love the look, very… unique,” said Ardhan, gazing at Billi from head to boot. “You don’t play by the rules, do you?”

  “You’d be surprised. Rules are my life. Always say my prayers before bedtime. Right after brushing my teeth."

  “Leave Billi alone.” Erin slipped her hand around Billi’s waist as she joined her, to face off against the other three. Billi stiffened, just for a moment, but then forced herself to relax. Erin was just a ‘touchy-feely’ type. “She’s my friend and that’s all that matters. Treat her nicely. That goes double for you, Ardhan. Don’t be jealous because she looks better in a dress than you do.” She turned her face to Billi’s. Her breath fell upon her lips, softly scented with the sweetness of strawberries. “I think Billi would make a perfect addition to our stale little gang.”

  “I didn’t realise I was auditioning to join your girl band,” said Billi. “I’m best solo.”

  Ardhan chuckled. “Sometimes solo is best.”

  Everyone groaned at that, including Billi. Erin gave Billi a squeeze. “You get used to them. Best ignore half of what they say and the other half… best ignore that too. Let’s go inside and grab—”

  An upstairs window shattered and a shoe flew in a high arc, and landed in a fir tree. Faustus appeared at the now open window, blood pouring from his nose.

  Faustus? What the hell was he doing here?

  He searched the garden frantically, and saw Billi. “Get up here! I need —”

  Then he was dragged back inside, yelling.

  CHAPTER 13

  Bloody Faustus!

  Billi launched herself up the stairs, shoving people aside, knocking over plates and spilling drinks. She took three steps at a time, swung around on the first landing, heard Faustus cry from further up, and charged up the next flight.

  She reached the landing on the third floor just as Faustus took a hit. Two guys held him against the wall and a third delivered a tight fist into his face. Faustus’s head snapped back as fresh blood spurted from his nostrils. He shook his head then, bleary-eyed, saw Billi, and sighed. “Feel free to join in any time you want. Perhaps sooner.”

  A young woman stood at a doorway, screaming. Her unzipped dress sagged from her shoulders.

  “Let him go, lads,” said Billi, approaching with her hands up in a display of peace. “He’s learnt his lesson.”

  The guy doing the punching lifted Faustus’s head up by the hair, turning it to the side to expose his cheek. “He’s just getting a revision session.”

  “Let him go.” Billi took a step closer. “Please.”

  The guy glared at her, his fist clenched tight and arm trembling with the urge to rearrange Faustus’s face. But then he licked
his lips and the frown went from anger to caution. He was bigger than her, he had two mates but there was a small part of his animal brain that was flickering between the primordial urge to fight, or flee. He couldn’t quite make sense of it, but he knew he was afraid. That had to be new to him, he didn’t know what to do with it.

  Then, as much as a surprise to him as the crowd gathered watching, he uncurled his fists. “Come on, lads. We don’t want to kill him.”

  His two companions stared at each other and then, reluctantly, dropped Faustus.

  Faustus dabbed his bleeding nose. “You really need to teach me how to do that. Is it with the eyes?”

  Billi looked back at the girl, trembling at the doorway. “Let me zip up your dress.”

  “Please don’t,” said Faustus as he tilted his head back. “I’ve just spent the last ten minutes trying to get it off.”

  The girl glanced down at Faustus. “Call me later?” Then she disappeared through the crowd as Erin and her priestesses arrived.

  Billi handed Faustus a napkin off the side table. “Y’know, maybe I shouldn’t have stopped them.”

  “How was I to know she’d brought her boyfriend?” said Faustus. “Frankly, I think I’ve just saved their relationship. Turns out Charlie does care for her after all. She was complaining he’d stopped paying attention to her.”

  “Oh?” Billi replied. “This is your couple’s therapy service?”

  “Exactly.” He wiped his nose clean, then faced Erin and the others. “Hello. What a lovely party.”

  “Let’s clean that face properly,” said Erin, taking Faustus by the hand. Faustus glanced back at Billi, and winked.

  She didn’t trust him and the way he looked at Erin set off a whole orchestra of alarm bells. “I’d better come too. He could have concussion.”

  Faustus didn’t look too pleased but the glare from Billi warned him not to go there, or he would definitely end up with concussion once Billi had finished with him.

  Erin took them into her bedroom, with its adjacent en-suite bathroom. She handed Faustus a towel and left him inside to clean up and then joined Billi in the bedroom. “So there was a fight? I wish I’d been quicker.”

  “Yeah, sorry about that,” said Billi, looking around. “The guy’s an idiot —”

  “I heard that!” yelled Faustus from the other side of the door.

  “— but I promised I’d bring him home more or less in one piece.”

  Billi tip-toed across the Persian carpet and the scattered cast-off dresses, skirts, underwear, and perched herself on the one clear spot, the corner of the big oak-framed bed. Apart from the bed the room was dominated by a mammoth oak desk with the latest, top of the range Apple computer. Informal snaps had been sprinkled over the walls around a series of antique museum posters. Tae-kwon-do trophies lined the mantelpiece and medals dangled off the curtain rail. The other shelves were clustered with Vinyl Pop-Ups, trinkets, books and small artefacts.

  Billi inspected one of the trophies. “Regional champion?”

  “Got my black belt when I was ten. It was that or ballet lessons. I still do my morning workouts down the park. Just enough to keep everything nice and loose.” Erin sat down beside Billi, tucking her feet under her. “Is your life always this exciting?"

  Their fingers touched. Billi couldn’t move her hand without it feeling like... rejection? Why not? What was it about Erin? When she raised her gaze, Erin was looking deeply at her, smiling softly. “You have the darkest eyes, Billi.”

  “They’re the windows of the soul, I don’t want anyone peering in.”

  Erin frowned. The little creases dipped down to a delicate ‘V’ at the bridge of her nose. There was a small hole in her right nostril for a missing stud.

  Erin’s fingers moved up her hand and Billi felt her heart accelerate. Erin tilted closer. “What are you afraid of?”

  “I’m not afraid.”

  “Good.” Erin sighed, caressing Billi’s own lips with her warm breath. Erin wrapped her fingers around Billi’s wrist and gently drew her toward her. “Do you want to try?”

  Billi held her breath, trapped between a ‘yes’ and ‘no’.

  “You’re not alone, Billi.”

  That was a whisper to her soul. Billi closed her eyes and Erin pressed her lips to hers. Their lips were ever so slightly parted and life passed between them, soft, warm, and strangely innocent. Billi tingled, acutely sensitive to each subtle, feather-soft touch, the light stickiness between Erin’s lipstick and hers, how Erin’s eyelashes fluttered against her skin, the strength of her slim fingers gripping her wrist.

  The bathroom door handle turned. The hinges squeaked and Billi broke free.

  Faustus stood at the door, blood all washed away. He looked at them both, silent, and knowing. “Did I interrupt something?”

  Billi licked her lips. The taste of Erin lingered on her tongue. “Feeling better?”

  “Not as good as you, it seems,” he said as he slipped his arms through his jacket sleeves. “I think the party’s over, for me, anyway.”

  Billi stood up abruptly. “I’d better make sure you get home. You never know with concussion. Charlie did punch your face pretty hard.”

  He waved dismissively. “Nooo. I’ll manage.”

  And with that he was out of the door.

  Erin laughed softly. “Now, where were we?”

  Billi felt the flush on her cheeks and reached for the door handle herself. “I really need to keep an eye on him. And Ivan’ll be wondering where I am.”

  “Sure. You need to make the most of the time you have left.”

  Billi turned sharply. “What does that mean?”

  Erin was up, adjusting her dress. “Before he moves back to Russia, of course.”

  Billi stared at her. “Moves back? He told you that?”

  “Not personally, but everyone in the Firebird’s been talking about it. The triumphant return of the tsarevich. Everyone knows he’s not happy in London.”

  Not everyone.

  “I need to go,” said Billi.

  ***

  Billi caught up with Faustus at the front of the house, grabbed his arm and spun him around to face her. “So what was that about being quits?”

  “I found I have a gap in my diary. Did you try those éclairs? I don’t think they were vegan but all the better for it.”

  “What are you up to, Faustus?”

  “I could ask the same of you. Shame on you, Billi. Though I admire your taste.”

  “Nothing happened. It was a mistake. Whatever.”

  “If you say so, and none of my business.” Faustus reached into his jacket pocket and held out a small plastic pot of pills. “Found them in her medicine cabinet along with an extensive collection of sleeping pills.”

  “Trazodone? What’s that?”

  “Anti-depressant, and she’s on a pretty high dose. Your girlfriend’s in a dark place.” He didn’t sound cocky for once, he sounded concerned. “Side effects include feelings of suicide.”

  “Bloody hell. Given her family history, what’s she doing with this?”

  Faustus shook his head. “You get given things like this when the doctors run out of options, when they don’t know what’s wrong but have to give you something. I’ve had some… personal experience on this, believe me.”

  She did. All psychics struggled with their gift, especially when they were young. More than a few thought they were going insane. With Faustus’s talent, if that was the right word for it, at seeing and dealing with ghosts and the like, he must have had it worse than most. What must he have seen, before he realised his true nature?

  “Billi!”

  Oh great. Ivan and Faustus.

  Ivan turned off the phone as soon as he saw her. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” He cast a cold glance at Faustus. “Didn’t know you were invited.”

  Faustus smiled, then bent down and pecked Billi on the cheek. “It’s been
short but very sweet.”

  They watched him go. Billi didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know what to feel. Betrayed? Yeah, a lot of that. Angry. Ditto. Relieved?

  What is it about relationships? All we want is to be close and yet the barriers still come up. We just cannot share what really matters.

  “So when were you gonna tell me you were heading back to Russia?”

  He didn’t deny it, there was that at least. He looked at her and there was pain in there. “There’s trouble back home.”

  Home. That’s what he still called it. Three years here in London, with her, and yet he’d never settled. How could he? He was a Romanov.

  He wants my permission to leave. He’ll do what I ask him. If I tell him to stay, he will, even though it’ll rip his heart in two.

  Then he pierced her with his grey eyes. “Come with me, Billi. We could have a home in Moscow, you and me. You’ll learn Russian. I’ll get the best teachers and you know the only way to learn a language is to live it. Come on, a box at the Bolshoi. We’d have summers in St. Petersburg,” he said excitedly. “I’ve still a palace up there. Nothing big, just forty rooms, but it’s right on the river. You can ice-skate on it during the winters. There is no city more beautiful, Billi. It would suit you. Us. It’ll suit us.”

  He yearned for it. The longer he stayed away, the more powerful the yearning became. He loved her, but he loved Mother Russia more and the old girl wanted him back. She’d released him for this fling, let him have his fun, but she was his true love. His loyalty would always be to her, not Billi.

  “We can make this work,” he pleaded.

  “Sure. Of course.” Billi forced up a smile. It was the hardest thing she’d ever done. “When are you going?”

  The relief was obvious. He seemed to grow right before her eyes. Had she been so great a burden? Had his life with her worn him down so much? How could she not have seen it? He was suddenly old Ivan again, the boy she’d first met in Moscow, full of life, full of pride and full of goodness. It seemed almost laughable, but it was anything but. Everyone nowadays was too cynical to believe in it. Ivan was a born hero.