The Templar's Curse Sarwat Chadda (top books of all time TXT) 📖

going so well she added a third and that lifted Tommy onto his toes. His face turned an explosive red. Tears dribbled down his cheeks, and he was panting. But the damage had been done and done too quickly. There was just so much anyone could take in what had been about five seconds.

Tommy fell against the wall, using it to keep himself up. He glared at her, fighting against the unconsciousness swimming in his head, you had to admire that. Then, centimetre by centimetre, he slid down. His head sank to his chest and his meaty fists fell to his sides. He was out.

Billi took a deep breath, more relieved than she’d imagined, and put her duster away in her jacket pocket. She nudged Tommy with her boot, now would be a bad time for him to be faking it, but he tilted over with a thump.

She’d never thought she’d be back here at the Ritz. She’d rushed through the lobby, head down, and taken the elevator, glaring at the old man who’d been planning to hop in until he wisely decided to wait for the next one.

She hadn’t told Dad. He would have warned her off. Lawrence belonged to the Ouroboros Society and they had Ivan, and she was going to get him back, one way or the other. Billi reached the suite doors and opened them slowly, ready for anything.

Anything but that.

Six pretty young things, some boys, some girls, one she wasn’t going to guess at, had made themselves very much at home in the splendour of the Royal Suite. There were clothes and cushions scattered over the floor and furniture, one guy in his underwear was doing one-finger push-ups to the glee of two cheering girls while another pair danced, tied together by a feather boa. The couch had been swung around to be used as a bed. Empty champagne bottles rolled across the marble floor.

One guy with glittery eyeshadow glanced from his position sprawled over a cluster of cushions. “About time. We’ve been waiting ages.”

“You… knew I was coming?”

“You’re the dealer, aren’t you?”

“The… ah. Right.” Billi cleared her throat. “I’m, er, looking for Lawrence. Y’know. To get paid.”

“Upstairs. He’s with the Jackies.”

“Upstairs?”

He sighed. Clearly Billi was an idiot. “The master bedroom?”

Okaaay…

She tried to keep the mental images of Lawrence and the two Jackies way out of her mind, unsuccessfully.

Billi headed straight up to the mezzanine, stepping over a girl asleep at the top of the stairs, but stopped outside the bedroom door. Should she knock? Give them a minute to sort themselves out a little?

Sod it.

Billi did what she did best: settle her problems with violence. Why change the habit of a lifetime? So she took a step back and kicked the door open.

The two Jackies were slumped on the chairs, heads tilted back, eyes vacant and mouths slack. Lawrence stood over them, suited and buttoned up to his chin, slowly breathing. Even in the soft moonlight she could see the flush on his cheeks, the way his body straightened from the energy he was stealing.

Billi flicked all the lights on.

Lawrence screamed and stumbled back, slapping his hands over his eyes as he fell hard onto the marble floor and lay there, shuddering.

“Sorry, is this a bad time?” said Billi as she walked in. The Jackies blinked as they rose from whatever mesmeric daze Lawrence had put them in. Billi snapped her fingers to get their attention. “You two, out. And don’t worry, Lawrence will still pay you.” She sat down on one of the now vacant chairs and put her feet up on the bed. “Ain’t that right, Lawrence?”

His walking stick rested against the chair and she gave it a twirl. Heavier than she’d expected… a quick twist of the handle and she pulled out the blade. “Nice…” The edges were lined with a thin gummy paste, “… and nasty.”

What was it? Curare? A synthetic poison? She wove the thin sword blade in front of Lawrence’s bloodshot eyes. He flinched and pressed himself back against the bed. Now why would an immortal be worried about a little shot of poison? Billi kept the tip an centimetre or two from his nose. “You’re lucky my dad isn’t here. Arthur takes a very dim view of... doing whatever you were doing.”

Lawrence groaned as he climbed up onto the bed. “The lights...”

“Nope. We’re doing this on my terms. So get comfortable and we’ll begin. Oh, and don’t try lying. I’ve had a really bad day.” He did open his eyes enough to glare at her with two hundred years plus of pure hatred. Billi smiled. “That’s the spirit.”

“You’ll pay for this outrage. You think you and your paltry knights can withstand the forces I could bring against you? You have any idea of the connections I have? The favours I’m owed?” He thrust out a claw-like hand. “I hold the prime minister by the balls. One squeeze and he’ll jump to do —”

Billi grimaced. “Eeuw. Now that is an image I did not want in my brain, thank you.” She looked as the last of the Jackies, his clothes collected, snuck out and closed the door behind him. “So how many years did you steal off them? Dead by thirty?”

“Not years, but experiences. I’m no vampire, despite appearances. Everything is... stale now. There is no joy to be had. You know what makes life worth living? New experiences. Crossing a fresh horizon. Those boys? Everything is still new and exciting for them. Every day a fresh adventure. Look at them. They are young, they believe they’re immortal, that they’ll be beautiful forever and all they have is joy.” Lawrence dabbed his puffy, blood-shot eyes. “They were willing to share some of that. I did them no harm.”

She didn’t expect that. He sounded sincere and she had no reason, surprisingly, to doubt him. He looked so weary of it all. So bored. Life was a hamster wheel and he couldn’t get off it. She put the sword away.