Wildwood (16 page)

I climbed the gate and followed him through the teepee village. Several other tree-huggers were about, not doing anything more active than lolling in the sunshine. They looked at me curiously. Pirate Pete led me to a fireplace surrounded by seating logs. There was a billycan of water hanging over the embers, and Ash was sitting on one of the stumps adjusting the can with the blade of a knife. His cool eyes lifted to study me as we approached.

‘The girl came,’ said my guide, and immediately walked away back towards the gate. I put my hands in my pockets self-consciously. Ash was as inscrutable as ever but his pale gaze made my skin prickle.

‘They’re not real, are they?’ I said, indicating the other activists
with
a twitch of my head. None of them were within earshot of my words; real or not, it would have been rude.

He raised one eyebrow. ‘Real enough to fool the bailiffs. Real enough to kick up a fuss and get this place in the news, if necessary. They’ve got names, fingerprints, personal histories, family backgrounds – even previous convictions for trespass, some of them. It nearly killed me.’

I blinked. ‘What happens if they’re arrested?’

‘The police find holding cells adrift with dead leaves next morning and the detainees gone. Very embarrassing. And … the attention of certain people will be drawn to this place before Deverick is ready for it. Which is why he’s staying back for the moment.’

‘Right.’ So, I told myself, one of them can summon the gods of Ancient Greece and the other can build hippie protesters out of dead twigs. I couldn’t complain that the men in my life were dull.

‘You got my flowers, then.’ Ash’s teeth grazed his lower lip.

‘Uh-huh.’

‘I’m sorry, you know. I acted like a complete tool.’

‘I’m the one who came to apologise.’ My face was burning all of a sudden, and Ash frowned. ‘I had no right to jump you like that. I … I just assumed you’d be up for it.’ I swallowed hard.

‘No. I overreacted. You took me by surprise.’ He winced at his own double entendre and we shared a rueful smile. ‘Literally.’

I shifted my feet. ‘Um, yeah.’

‘I think,’ said he gently, ‘that given the circumstances we need to be a bit more careful.’

My shoulders sagged. Circumstances? He meant the situation with Deverick, did he? Or was he just saying he didn’t fancy me? That hurt. ‘OK,’ I agreed, determined to show no
weakness
. ‘No problem.’ I took a deep breath. ‘There was one other thing I wanted to talk about.’

He pointed at a log. ‘Have a seat. How about a brew?’

There were flecks of wood ash floating in the billycan along with green leaves. ‘Herb tea?’

‘Just mint.’

‘That’s OK, I’m fine.’ I sat down. ‘You asked if I’d help you against Michael. I came to let you know that, yes, I’d be ready for that.’

Ash looked down at his hands as he turned the knife over and over between them, and did not answer for a moment. ‘What made you change your mind?’

‘Personal reasons.’ I couldn’t quite keep the bitterness out of my voice and he looked up at me keenly.

‘Can I ask what?’

‘No, you can’t. But if you want to rain on his parade then I’d love to help. One condition, though.’

‘And what’s that?’

‘I want to know what’s going on. I don’t like blundering about in the dark and I don’t like being lied to. I want the real story. I want to see proof of what’s at stake. I want to see what it is you’re hiding in the wood.’

He gave me a searching look and answered quietly, ‘You know there are serious problems with that, Avril. I told you before.’

‘Hey, don’t mess me about, not if you want my help. This is my employer you’re asking me to betray – and I’ll bet he’s not the forgiving type either. You can get into the wood, can’t you? Then logically you can get me in too.’

‘Logically, yes.’ He looked at the branches overhead. ‘You’re asking me to take an enormous leap of trust, you know.’

I snorted. ‘You? What about me? You think I should get involved in some spat between freaky magic-wielding weirdos without even knowing what it is you’re fighting over?’

Ash blinked. ‘You have a point. And you’re right, there are ways in. But I can’t see you agreeing to them.’

‘Try me.’

‘Well, the defences are keyed to me, to my signature. It’s possible to fool them for a while, with the right materials.’

‘You mean like some sort of DNA key?’

He shook his head. ‘Not DNA. Don’t go trying to make magic into science. Its rules and correspondences are those of symbolism and significance and sympathy, not fact. Like affects like. The part is always connected to the whole. There are certain … body products … that are considered intimately connected to a person. You’ve heard of casting a charm using hair or nail clippings, haven’t you?’

‘I guess.’

‘You can use someone’s body signature against them – yet there’s no complete DNA in hair or nails. Or in blood.’ He tapped the point of his knife against the tip of his finger. ‘Blood’s the really obvious one, though there are others. I could get you into the wood by painting you all over with my blood.’

‘Yuck,’ I said with feeling.

‘Believe me, I’m not exactly keen on the idea myself.’

‘You said there were others?’

‘I think you’d like those even less. Semen. Urine. Sweat. Saliva. Does it still sound appealing?’

He was trying to freak me out. I stared at him as the light slowly dawned. ‘Is that why you were so worried I wasn’t going to swallow? Is that it? You thought I might take your … that I’d go running off to Michael with it?’

Ash looked pained. ‘It was a distinct possibility.’

I didn’t know whether to laugh or be horrified. ‘Christ, that is paranoid.’

‘I have to be paranoid.’

My cool deserted me. ‘And gross! Oh, yeuch!’

‘Gross?’ He leant in to push the stub of log further into the fire. ‘Yes, we are. Gross matter: dust and slime. A little water, a little wind, the slow burning of chemical fires. That’s all, from conception to dissolution, until you take spirit into account. Revile it if you want. Matter is the human condition, and it makes us incredibly vulnerable.’

‘OK …’ I looked into the embers, words failing me for the moment, as I tried to think my way past the tangle of words. ‘OK. No blood. We don’t do the blood thing. Well, I don’t mind …’ I hesitated. ‘I mean, I don’t have a problem with other stuff.’

Ash choked back a cough, his eyes flashing above his fist. ‘Huh?’

I shrugged. ‘You said saliva. I don’t have a problem with that. You’d have to … What? Lick me?’

His look was very nearly a glare, but his words were soft and carefully considered. ‘This isn’t some sort of kinky game, Avril.’

‘You’re the one who brought up the possibility.’

‘So I did.’

‘Then yeah … I’m up for it.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Absolutely.’

He looked very wary, but eventually he nodded. ‘All right. Follow me.’

Pouring his mint tea into a mug he led me out of the encampment and over a rise into a natural hollow in the ground. All around us were oaks, but the centre of the dell was a clearing and the summer sun lit a carpet of dog’s mercury.

‘Go down into the centre and wait for me.’

‘Where are you going?’

‘To get you some of my clothes.’ He looked me up and down. ‘You need to take your own off, down to your knickers. We need
a
lot of bare skin for this. Take them off and wait.’ I think he must’ve spotted the sudden doubt on my face, because he added, ‘You have to trust me, remember. Like I have to trust you.’ He handed me his mug. ‘Take that.’

As he slipped away I descended into the hollow and slowly removed my trainers and socks. The leaves felt cool beneath my feet and I shifted into the brightest patch of sun before following suit with trousers and top, which I folded neatly and laid aside. I couldn’t stop myself checking my narrow horizons, but there was no sign of anyone watching. A woodpecker rattled in a stag-headed oak. Standing there in sports top and knickers I shifted my shoulders in the sun, getting used to the lick of the breeze on my skin and relaxing just a little. What better way to spend a spare Sunday afternoon, I asked myself flippantly, than getting involved in a little perverse ritual magic?

This wasn’t about prurient curiosity though. I knew that really. It wasn’t even about taking sides. This was about vengeance on Michael. This was about getting my own back before the humiliation gnawed a hole in my self-confidence that I wouldn’t be able to heal.

Ash took his time returning. I wandered around the hollow, careful where I put my bare feet. Without pockets I hardly knew what to do with my hands. God, I thought, as the quiet of the woodland settled upon my mind and my determination started to cool, how the hell had I got myself involved in a situation like this? Michael was using me against Ash and Ash was using me against Michael. Did I care so long as I could make my own decisions? I had to know what this was all about. I had to see for myself before I acted. That meant I had to trust Ash. The question was, did I? I scanned the walls of the hollow yet again. For all that he painted himself as the good guy, he wasn’t above a certain ruthlessness. Wolves and wasps were
hardly
non-lethal weapons. He’d shown no remorse over the man who’d died.

And did Ash trust me? He clearly feared that I was working in Michael’s interests, yet he was desperate enough for allies to risk showing me his most closely guarded treasure. Or maybe he was luring me into a position more advantageous for him.

This was a weird, weird situation. Was I getting in too deep?

‘Don’t turn around.’ Ash spoke from behind me and up the slope. I half-turned anyway, automatically, before his words registered and I forced myself to swing back. My hands were clenched as I listened to him descend towards me, and my spine prickled. ‘OK?’ he asked as he got to within a couple of paces.

‘Yeah.’

‘Good.’ He dropped a bundle on the ground nearby and I couldn’t help taking a sideways glance at that. It was a heap of clothes, with at least two pairs of boots included. Was he barefoot himself then? I thought I recognised a khaki shirt he’d been wearing when I saw him by the fire too.

‘Right, Avril. You need to take your top off.’ His voice was soft.

‘Are you starkers?’

‘That’s the way I usually work – bare to the air and earth.’

‘Right. That’s …’ I didn’t know what to say. My heart was racing.

‘Believe me, I’ve taken precautions.’ I heard an edge to his voice. ‘We’re being careful, remember? Now, please, take your top off. You can keep the pants on.’

With an effort of will I obeyed, dropping the Lycra sports top among the dog’s mercury. It felt like I’d taken a huge leap into the unknown. My skin went to gooseflesh though the air wasn’t cold.

‘Where’d you put the tea?’

I pointed to where I’d propped the mug against a root. ‘Is it magic then?’

I actually heard him smile. ‘No. It’s because my mouth’s going to get a bit dry. No more questions, please. Don’t talk. Try to empty your mind.’

I tried, but there’s no way anyone can maintain an empty mind when a naked man steps up behind them. I tried to steel myself for his touch too, but that didn’t stop me jumping when he put his hand on the nape of my neck. He waited until my shiver had passed. Then he bent and I felt first his breath warm on my skin and then the soft brush of his lips and then his tongue, hotter and wetter. I forced myself to hold still but in secret I squirmed. My sex felt a rush of heat, my nipples tightened and I could only hope Ash hadn’t noticed.

Oh God, this was not playing safe.

Ash worked carefully, touching moisture to my skin and smoothing it over, patch by patch, then writing upon the new vellum with his fingertip letters or symbols that I could not decipher. He did my shoulders and arms first, to the tips of my fingers, which he sucked. The evaporating moisture chilled my skin slightly, raising exquisite shivers. I set my legs and looked into the distance, my head spinning. I could feel his every breath and it was extraordinarily intimate. He wet his hand and passed it over my hair, then worked down the length of my back, his mouth and his fingers warm and strong and gentle, and I felt my body responding to his touch in ways that had nothing to do with magic. Standing there all but nude in broad daylight, exposed to the wood, exposed to the man caressing my body – that was frightening, but the gentle ticklish sensation was nothing but pleasure. Who wouldn’t respond to such a feast of sensation? I certainly did. I liked the fear and the trust and the vulnerability. And God knows I liked
Ash
– meaning as Michael would say, that yes I wanted to fuck him – for all his mixed signals and his rejection.

Span by span he worked his way down to the base of my spine. My Sunday knickers were wine-coloured and on the skimpy side; carefully he tucked the cloth into the cleft of my arse and kissed his way over first one bum cheek and then the other, taking his time. I swear I felt his teeth and I had to bite my lip.

When he’d finished with my bum he moved round to my right leg, kneeling to anoint the long lines of my thigh and calf. I’d never realised how sensitive the backs of my knees were until then. He lifted my foot behind me to lick the sole and each individual toe, and I had to put my hand on him to keep my balance, leaning my thigh against his bare shoulder. He felt smooth and warm. When I dared to glance down I could see his leg and bare back and the muscles of his upper arm, and I wanted so badly to wrap my fingers in his red-gold dreads and turn to press him against my muff that I nearly cried out. It was wonderful, beautiful torture and it got worse as he turned his attention to the front of my thigh, working his way up till his lips brushed the edge of my panties. The microclimate in there was by this point like that preceding a tropical storm.

I tried to empty my mind but the inrushing tide of sensation filled it to overflowing. Put your hand in my panties, I prayed. Please. Please.

My prayers went, it seemed, unheard. He moved back round behind me and ministered to my other leg with exactly the same thoroughness while I stared desperately at the branches criss-crossed overhead. Then he rested his forehead against my hip. ‘Avril … I’m sorry.’ His voice was husky.