The symbol suggests how two seemingly opposed forces can interconnect and interrelate. I understand the concept, but I don’t know how it relates to Mac.
I watch the symbol spin, my eyelids lowering to half-mast as I sink into a semi-trance. It’s all about balance. Winter and summer. Light and dark. Hot and cold. Death and rebirth. Fire and water. Man and woman. It’s a sign of sexual union. I think of our kiss, my pulse increasing at the thought of where it might lead.
The literal meaning of the Chinese characters yin and yang is shady side of a hill and sunny side of a hill. I think of the Tarot card, of the moon, which always has a bright side and a dark side. This February, there is a Black Moon, which, in my mind, upsets the balance of light and dark. Dark energies. Dark powers. Dark magic.
The symbol spins faster, black to white, white to black.
Nothing is as it seems. Secrets and lies. Mac is hiding something. I already knew that, deep down.
I picture him in my mind, driving back through the Devon hills to the city. His light-brown hair, his blue eyes. I think of how he blew life into me, how he brought me, Persephone, back from the dead. Does it mean I have to spend half the year in the Otherworlds? One foot in that world, one in this…
I’m connected to him somehow, I know that. I feel as if we’re joined by a silver bond, solar plexus to solar plexus, stretching across the hills like a ley line, part of the Deep Network. I think of the energy passing along that line, thundering like a train on tracks. Prehistoric stone circles, their feet deep in the earth. I could draw on that ancient power, if I wanted to…
Like a tree, I send energy roots down, searching for the Deep Network. It flows through me, filling me with a sense of invulnerability, a feeling that I can do anything. I’m super-powerful; I am the Goddess, filled with light.
I reach out to Mac, searching for him. I want to find his secret, unpeel him like an orange. I think of how my fingers tingled when I touched him, as if I was picking up on his sexual energy. He wants me. A man’s lust is his undoing. Yes… there he is, I can feel him… He’s stopped the car, turned off the engine… He’s sitting there, not moving. All the hairs on my body rise. I can almost smell his scent…
I imagine myself sitting astride him, and slip beneath his jacket, beneath his shirt, put my hands on his warm skin… I cover his mouth with mine and plunge my tongue inside… He groans and stirs… I move up close to him, rock my hips against him… He’s hard for me, he wants me…
The symbol spins faster and faster, and the Black Moon blooms in my mind…
I imagine us naked, and that I’m opening myself to him, sinking down on him, welcoming him inside me… His hands hot on my skin, on my breasts… mmm… brushing over me like feathers…
I cup his face in my hands and sink my fingers into his hair… Tell me, I whisper… Tell me your secret…
He sighs, and the doors to his memory palace open. I walk inside. Everyone creates a different memory palace. Mine is a stately home. Mac’s is an old library. I’m looking down from a balcony at hundreds of shelves of books, dusty trunks and boxes, stretching away into the distance. It shocks me. He might not be aware of it, but he’s old, an ancient spirit, probably reborn many times.
In the center of the room is a wooden box on a table. I go down the steps and cross the room to stand before it. It’s beautifully carved and polished until it gleams, and inlaid with precious stones. I try to lift the lid, but it’s locked. The secret I’m looking for is inside.
The yin-yang symbol is spinning so fast now, it’s turned gray. I put my hand over the lock, think of the Black Moon, and feel the power of the Deep Network pouring through me. Oh Goddess, I’m nearly there. The mechanism of the lock is turning. I feel the metal inside squeak and click, and then the lock opens…
There’s an almighty bang, and something throws me backward, onto the bed. I exclaim and push myself up, retreating hurriedly until my back meets the wall. The symbol has gone, and the candle has tipped over. I right it quickly and move it onto the bedside table. The light has vanished from the circle. The protection stones are still black, though. My sacred space hasn’t been invaded. I’ve just been expelled from his mind, that’s all.
I’m shaking from the experience, exhausted, and drenched in sweat. I’ve never tried to invade someone else’s memory palace before. What on earth made me think I could go into Mac’s mind? It takes an immense amount of power, and I’m shocked I was able to do it. Was it him who expelled me, or someone else?
I think of how I sat astride him and slipped my hands beneath his clothes. I groan, letting my head tip back on the wall. The sexual energy between us gave me extra power. He wants me as badly as I want him, and desire like that opens all kinds of doors. I doubt I could have controlled it even if I’d wanted to.
I’m ashamed of myself, though. He hadn’t given me permission to do that to him. If it was the other way around, I could easily have taken it as a sexual assault, and it’s unfair of me to think it’s any different just because he’s a man.
Will he be aware of it when I see him again?
I consider phoning him and telling him I’ve changed my mind—that I don’t want to date him anymore. Clearly, he’s hiding something, and without knowing what it is, I’m placing myself in danger.
And yet… I can only go by my instincts. I was right that he has a secret. But deep down, I still trust him. He pulled me from the river. He brought me back to life. That has to count for something.
And besides, I want him. I can no longer deny it. The attraction between us is too strong.
Turning, I lie back on the bed and stare up at the ceiling. I can’t end it. Not yet. But I will take extra care, until there are no more secrets, and everything is revealed.
Chapter Thirteen
Macbeth
I open my eyes and clutch hold of the steering wheel, taking deep, shuddering breaths. Holy Herne and all his hunters. I can’t believe what’s just happened.
I began to feel odd as I pulled up outside my flat. I don’t know what it was that alerted me to Persephone’s presence. I’d thought about her all the way home, playing the kiss in the park over in my mind. She’d been shy to begin with, but she’d grown bolder, tightening her fingers in my hair, pressing up against me as her tongue played with mine. I’d felt like a king with her in my arms at last.
I was already half turned on by the thought, but as I slowed the car and parked, I became aware of her in a way that was more than a vivid memory. I could feel her mouth on mine, the weight of her atop me. Confused, I closed my eyes, holding my breath at the feeling of her hands sliding beneath my clothes onto my skin, her nails scoring down my back. Her hips rocked against mine, arousing me, toying with me, and then somehow, I don’t know how, I felt myself slide inside her, felt her soft warmth close around me. How is that possible? It was sweet agony, and I groaned in the darkness as she teased me closer to the edge of ecstasy.
And then something changed. Suddenly it turned invasive, not sensual. I felt her presence in my memories, searching for something hidden, the truth about who I am. She was doing a mind probe. Seducing me like a succubus. It shocked me. It takes an immense amount of power to invade someone else’s mind.