Wildwood Read online

  I whirled away across the room. There was nowhere for me to go but that couldn’t keep me still. ‘I did not betray you!’

  ‘You were sleeping with him, weren’t you?’

  I felt like my stomach and my mouth were full of blood. ‘You knew that,’ I snarled. ‘You never asked me how I got hold of the book and anyone else would have. You already knew, and you’d been using that – been using me – to get close to him.’

  His eyes were blazing; everything else was cold as ice. ‘Oh, don’t worry, I’m paying for that. I thought you’d seen through him. I thought that since you knew what this was really all about you’d made the decent choice. I thought that maybe just one other bloody person in the world was capable of doing something that wasn’t about how much money they could make or who they could fuck or what was in it for them!’

  I felt like he’d knocked all the air out of my chest.

  Ash spread his hands. ‘All my fault,’ he snarled. ‘I’m the idiot here.’

  My voice, when I found it, was gravelly with shock. ‘You shit. You want to know something, Ash? You aren’t the good guy you think you are. You are exactly like Michael fucking Deverick, down to the dregs. You both think that you’re better than everyone else on the fucking planet and that gives you the right to tell us what to do. You’re bloody identical.’

  Ash looked like I’d slapped him. He took a step forwards, mouth open.

  ‘No,’ I said, holding up a hand. ‘Sorry, there is a difference between you. He’s got a sense of humour.’

  Ash’s mouth twisted as if he couldn’t believe what he’d heard.

  ‘Knock, knock,’ said Michael acidly from the doorway. We both turned in horror.

  All along I’d managed on instinct, refusing to analyse my decisions. I’d trusted to action and relegated the consequences to the back of my mind, refusing to show them the light of day. Now the consequences had caught up with me. Now the repercussions stood casually against the door frame in a black coat, his eyes glinting, and he was holding a gun. Behind him I could see the pattern of the corridor wallpaper. ‘Actually,’ he said, ‘I haven’t got a punchline for that one, but the compliment is noted, Avril.’

  Ash retreated slowly behind the bed, and the gun’s muzzle lifted to cover him. It was an old-fashioned-looking weapon, I thought from some disassociated corner of my mind, with a rounder barrel than the ones you saw on television.

  ‘The real joke,’ continued Michael, ‘is that it is entirely your fault, Ash, that I was able to track you here. You can’t blame Avril for this.’ He lifted his other hand from his coat pocket, displaying between two fingers a transparent plastic bag, like an item of police evidence. There was a something small in the bag: a bright aquamarine piece of fabric.

  Ash swallowed. I knew what the blue scrap was, but I still didn’t understand what Michael was doing with my old knickers. The ones I’d last seen in Ash’s possession.

  ‘A threshold enchantment,’ Michael mused, ‘is just the sort of primitive shit I’d expect you to pull, Ash. But love magic? That’s a bit low for you, isn’t it?’

  Ash cleared his throat. ‘I was only levelling the playing field.’

  ‘Hold on,’ I squeaked. ‘You cast a love spell on me?’

  He didn’t look over. ‘Don’t bitch if I try to take your tools off you, Deverick.’

  ‘You tried to make me love you by magic? You …’ I said, then words failed me. Nothing could have expressed my feeling of betrayal.

  A smile licked up the side of Michael’s face. ‘Oh, Ash, how you’ve misjudged us both. She wasn’t my tool; I’ve never worked anything on or through her. Any problem you have with Avril is your own. I knew nothing about your … budding relationship. And her larceny this morning took me entirely by surprise.’

  Ash went from pale to green. I’d never seen that before. His eyes met mine and I read in them depths of horror, but it made no difference to me: I wanted to kill him.

  ‘You did make a mistake trusting Miranda though, Avril,’ Michael continued. ‘Once I knew where you were headed it was easy to get in touch. Miranda and I have been … familiar … since that wedding last year. She came to my hotel room rather late that night, and extremely drunk.’

  ‘Bet that didn’t stop you,’ I mumbled, my voice seeming to come from someone else. I was watching the sweat ooze from Ash’s temples.

  ‘It did not. Miranda, it turns out, has a predilection for being tied up and pissed on. It’s my pleasure to indulge her need. And she’d do anything for me, including betray you and your boyfriend, it turns out.’ Michael hitched a shoulder. ‘Now, Ash, give me the book.’

  Ash slipped the grimoire from the rucksack then flipped it open, holding it at chest height, his fingers knotted around the covers. He took a very deliberate pace backwards.

  ‘Don’t be stupid,’ said Michael, his voice tightening audibly. The muzzle of the gun jutted forwards and we heard the click as he cocked the hammer. ‘You do recognise this, don’t you?’

  Ash’s lips twisted. ‘Well, I did have my back turned the last time you pulled the trigger.’

  Michael had the grace to laugh, baring his teeth. ‘Think I won’t pull it in your face? Put the book down.’

  Ash’s eyes narrowed. From somewhere he had found new focus, new obstinacy. ‘The death of a magus is a powerful thing. You’re taking a big bet that the grimoire will escape unscathed.’

  ‘You’re playing dirty.’ Michael’s eyes narrowed. Then he swung the barrel round to point straight at me. ‘Let’s both play.’

  I was too stunned to react.

  ‘Now put the fucking book down.’ Michael crossed over and put his arm around my shoulders, hand in my hair, jamming the barrel up into the angle of my jaw. ‘Or I kill her.’

  It was weird, I thought, the gun didn’t seem real to me. Ancient sorcerers trapped in oak boles, holly wolves, pond spirits dissolving into my carpet – all those things I could take in my stride. They made a primitive sense to me. The gun didn’t. Handguns were objects in American cop shows and on the news. I’d never seen a real one; they weren’t part of my world. My head spun. The muzzle was cold and painfully hard on my throat.

  Ash believed in the gun though, and I saw the defeat in his face as he dropped the book onto the bed. ‘Deverick …’

  ‘Good. Now put your hands on the floor and kneel on them.’

  I could smell Michael’s familiar aftershave. Was this man threatening to blow a hole in my skull the same man who’d held me so tenderly in bed? It seemed a world away, but then I’d always managed to compartmentalise my relationships with Michael and Ash, tucking one tidily away as I concentrated on the other. Refusing to think about anything but what I wanted, right at that moment. Finally I was paying the price. And not just me either. ‘Don’t,’ I whispered.

  Reluctantly Ash went to his knees. Michael, satisfied, pushed me aside and walked slowly over to stand behind him.

  ‘Please don’t,’ I repeated. ‘Michael, please.’ Both men looked at me: Michael appraising, Ash with a great regretful sorrow. I thought of the stag with the golden antlers, gazing with trust into the face of the huntress. ‘You need him alive,’ I gasped. ‘You can’t get back into the wood otherwise.’

  Michael tilted his head. His thumb slid over the hammer. Then he lifted the gun and smacked the wooden stock hard on the rear of Ash’s head. The kneeling man swayed violently, then the second blow crumpled him against the footboard of the bed. I had to turn away, and I swallowed the sob in my throat by sheer willpower. I watched as, ignoring me, Michael ransacked a drawer. He seemed to know exactly what he was looking for: silk scarves with which he tied Ash’s wrists behind his back. Then he plundered his pockets, finding among other things the fallen man’s knife and mobile phone, which he stuffed into his own pockets. The numbness of repeated shocks was wearing off and I was starting to tremble. When Michael strolled back over I forced myself not to shrink from him. He looked me right in the face. ‘Go on, Avril. Jus
t what the hell did you think you were doing stealing my book?’

  I’d been trying to do the right thing, I wanted to say defiantly. Was that true, though? Hadn’t I just been trying to hurt him? Hadn’t I just been trying to get into Ash’s pants? There were no straight answers here, and I offered up the one that condemned me least. ‘I thought I was in love with him.’

  ‘And now?’

  I couldn’t answer.

  ‘Was he a good fuck, Avril?’

  ‘Yes.’ Even skirting the memory took my breath away.

  Michael nearly spat. ‘Well you’ve had a busy twenty-four hours. I’m amazed you can stand up straight.’ Under the sneer and the pose he was genuinely angry and, to my amazement, I thought that I saw hurt there too.

  ‘You were the one who said there were no rules. You can’t blame me if I take you at your word.’

  Ire flashed in those blue eyes, but he controlled it. ‘I’m simply surprised,’ he said thickly, ‘that you managed to hide your feelings so well. You’re quite the actress. I could have sworn your tendencies were in another direction altogether.’

  ‘I’m not in love with you,’ I told him. ‘You’re just an addiction.’

  ‘The very definition of love, I’d have thought.’

  ‘Then you know nothing about it.’

  His lips tightened. ‘Maybe. But I know what goes on here.’ He cupped my pussy in his hand; I jerked away from him. With a sneer he returned to the bed, stepping over Ash’s body, to pick up the grimoire. He riffled through it, then tucked the gun into his coat pocket. ‘OK, we’re leaving.’

  ‘Where?’

  He returned the book to its satchel. ‘Back to the wood, like you said. It’s all over bar the cigarette, Avril.’ Stooping, he carefully manoeuvred Ash over his shoulder and hoisted his limp form. The weight was obviously awkward but bearable as he straightened, legs braced. The rucksack hung from his free hand. ‘Get the door.’

  ‘You’ll be seen.’

  ‘I doubt it. Try anything funny, Avril, and I will take it out on your boyfriend.’

  The corridor beyond the door looked just the same as it had done when we arrived. I led the way to the lift and summoned the clanking cage. I hoped that someone would spot us on the way down, but the building might as well have been deserted. The wet street was no better. Even London’s notorious clamping crews had let me down; Michael had left his vehicle parked on the double-yellow line right before the entrance, but it hadn’t been touched. Michael unlocked the 4x4 and offloaded Ash into the front passenger seat.

  ‘You’re driving, Avril.’

  By the time I’d gone round to the other side of the car my employer was ensconced in the back. He passed the keys to me over my shoulder. ‘This is how it’s going to be,’ he told me. ‘You’re going to drive us back to the Grange. I’m going to sit quietly here. And if you do anything stupid – if you flash a police car or ram a wall or jump out at a light, or even go over the speed limit – I’m going to put bullets first into Ash and then into you. And before you start arguing, technically all I need from him is his blood. If you want it to stay inside its present convenient container then I’d suggest you do what you’re told.’

  ‘You promised me I’d always have a choice,’ I said hoarsely.

  ‘That is a choice. It’s a choice between life and death. How much more could you ask for?’ Michael settled back into his seat, drawing his coat over his lap so that he could handle the gun in the pocket.

  I saw to it that Ash was buckled in securely. He didn’t seem to be bleeding, and his breathing was regular though shallow. Then, cautiously, I slotted the car into the traffic flow and we set off through the night streets. Michael gave terse directions. The padded steering wheel absorbed the cold sweat off my hands. Neon street lamps flashed across the windscreen in an endless hypnotic procession.

  We were on the motorway and heading west before Ash’s breathing suddenly grew harsher and he awoke. He rolled his head against the seat rest, taking a long time to come back into focus. His shoulders twisted as he discovered and tested his bonds. ‘Where are we going?’ he asked at length.

  I glanced in the rear-view mirror but Michael, watching us with an alert and sardonic smile, said nothing. ‘Back to the wood,’ I replied.

  Ash tried to look round into the back seat but winced and abandoned the plan. ‘Avril,’ he said after a long pause. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Forget it.’ I didn’t want him to talk, least of all in front of Michael, who’d raised one scornful eyebrow.

  ‘You should understand. When I met you …’

  ‘I said forget it.’

  ‘I fell for you so hard. Awake all night sweating sort of hard. Unable to get my mind off you and concentrate on anything else. The dreams … Oh, I wanted you so much. And it made perfect sense. You were Deverick’s employee; there was no attempt to hide that. It was obvious you were part of his push into the wood. It was obvious that he was working some sort of enchantment through you, to get a hold on me.’

  ‘Obvious, huh?’

  ‘Why else would you be so keen on me?’

  I goggled slightly at this. ‘It didn’t occur to you that any of it might be … natural?’ My voice came out ragged.

  ‘No. Not once. You were too perfect. It had to be a trap.’ The air left his chest in a sigh. ‘I panicked, Avril. I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t stop what I felt, and I didn’t understand why, and I wanted to take some measure of control back. I fucked up, Avril, big time.’

  ‘Yeah,’ said I bitterly.

  ‘There’s no excuse for using magic on you the way I did. I just need you to know … that I love you. Whatever happens.’

  I didn’t reply and I didn’t look at him; I just stared straight ahead at the road, my knuckles white on the wheel, tears welling up and running down my face. Because I loved him. If I was honest with myself, that was how I felt. I was far more afraid for him than for myself. I was desperate to hold him and heal him and feel his embrace and his kiss. I was deeply in love; I just didn’t know if any of it was real.

  10: Wildwood

  WE DROVE BACK into Devon as the dawn mist was rising from the autumnal fields, and we reached the Wood Gate just as the first touch of sun turned it to gold. I parked up and sagged over the steering wheel. Michael had let me break the journey once at a service station where I’d been permitted to doze off for forty minutes – it was either that or I’d have fallen asleep behind the wheel. I’d been aware of the two men talking as I slept, but had registered none of the words.

  The cool air that washed in when Michael opened his door brought me wide awake once more. It smelt of autumn, an inchoate sorrow and yearning.

  ‘Get out.’

  I went round to open Ash’s door and help him down. In the meanwhile Michael opened the back of the car and retrieved the tiny maquette of his cage, which he pocketed. He looked us over with satisfaction. I shivered a little, and blamed the fact I’d left my coat in Miranda’s flat. Ash looked towards the wood, the set of his jaw betraying his tension.

  ‘First thing,’ said Michael, ‘is that you get rid of them.’ He was referring to the tribe of protesters who stood silently in array behind the gate. Their blank eyes watched us. Perhaps it was just the result of their scrutiny, but Grange Wood seemed to throb with awareness behind them.

  ‘I can’t just –’

  ‘Do it.’ The shape of the gun muzzle showed clearly against the taut fabric of Michael’s pocket.

  With a sag of his shoulders Ash turned to the protestors. ‘Go down onto the bridle path,’ he said flatly. ‘Wait by the farm gate. Do nothing.’ We watched as, without a word, they turned obediently away and set off through the trees.

  Michael settled himself against the front of his car and pulled the gun into plain view, resting it casually in both hands. ‘You’ll enjoy this bit I don’t doubt, Avril. I want you to untie his hands. Ash, get your clothes off.’

  I exchanged a lingering glance with
my fellow prisoner as I went up behind him, hoping that he might whisper me some vital instruction, but Ash’s eyes held no hope. The silk scarf was tightly knotted and I had to work at it for some moments. His fingers were cold when I brushed them. The two magi kept a steely watch on each other. Once he was free Ash undressed slowly, throwing each garment, as instructed, at Michael’s feet. And he in turn, keeping the gun carefully trained upon us, shed his own clothes, until both men were naked. Ash stood rubbing his wrists. I rammed my fists into my pockets, biting my lip. Some witless part of my mind that wasn’t concerned with the fact that Ash and I were at the mercy of a vengeful bastard with a deadly weapon and no conscience, was flipping cartwheels with glee at that sight and I couldn’t drag my eyes away. My two lovers, bollock-naked on the dewy grass, so much in common and so different. My heart was tying itself in knots. Ash looked pale gold in the diffuse light, Michael like he’d been drawn in black ink lines against the mist. Ash was my raspberries-and-cream lover, sweet and sharp and so irresistible that I wanted to gorge myself upon him. Michael was more like bitter chocolate – impossible to take in more than tiny quantities but with a taste that ravished the senses and kept me coming back for more.

  ‘Tie his hands again.’

  I hesitated. The gun jerked.

  ‘As has been pointed out, I could use him in the wood, so I’m not set on killing him right now. But I will check the knots, Avril.’

  There was no choice but to obey, though I wasn’t quite so cruel with the binding as he’d been. My fingers trembled. I wanted to press my face to the smooth skin of Ash’s back and feel his warmth, smell his sweetness.

  ‘Now get on your knees,’ Michael commanded, opening the other man’s knife.