A Discovery of Witches(147)

“And you are going to give me gray hairs—long thought impossible among vampires, by the way—with your courage, your firecracker hands, and the impossible things you say.” To make sure he was safe from the last, Matthew kissed me quite thoroughly. When he was finished, I was unlikely to say much, surprising or otherwise. My ear rested against his sternum, listening patiently for his heart to thump. When it did, I gave him a satisfied squeeze, glad not to be the only one whose heart was full.

“You win, ma vaillante fille,” he said, cradling me against his body. “I will try—try—not to coddle you so much. And you must not underestimate how dangerous vampires can be.”

It was hard to put “danger” and “vampire” into the same thought while pressed so firmly against him. Rakasa gazed at us indulgently, the grass sprouting out of both sides of her mouth.

“Are you finished?” I angled back my head to look at him.

“If you’re asking if I need to hunt more, the answer is no.”

“Rakasa is going to explode. She’s been eating grass for quite some time. And she can’t carry both of us.” My hands took stock of Matthew’s hips and buttocks.

His breath caught in his throat, making a very different kind of purring sound from the one he made when he was angry.

“You ride, and I’ll walk alongside,” he suggested after another very thorough kiss.

“Let’s both walk.” After hours in the saddle, I was not eager to get back up on Rakasa.

It was twilight when Matthew led us back through the chateau gates. Sept-Tours was ablaze, every lamp illuminated in silent greeting.

“Home,” I said, my heart lifting at the sight.

Matthew looked at me, rather than the house, and smiled. “Home.”





Chapter 28

Safely back at the chateau, we ate in the housekeeper’s room before a blazing fire.

“Where’s Ysabeau?” I asked Marthe when she brought me a fresh cup of tea.

“Out.” She stalked back toward the kitchen.

“Out where?”

“Marthe,” Matthew called. “We’re trying not to keep things from Diana.”

She turned and glared. I couldn’t decide if it was directed at him, his absent mother, or me. “She went to the village to see that priest. The mayor, too.” Marthe stopped, hesitated, and started again. “Then she was going to clean.”

“Clean what?” I wondered.

“The woods. The hills. The caves.” Marthe seemed to think this explanation was sufficient, but I looked at Matthew for clarification.

“Marthe sometimes confuses clean and clear.” The light from the fire caught the facets of his heavy goblet. He was having some of the fresh wine from down the road, but he didn’t drink as much as usual. “It would seem that Maman has gone out to make sure there are no vampires lurking around Sept-Tours.”

“Is she looking for anyone in particular?”

“Domenico, of course. And one of the Congregation’s other vampires, Gerbert. He’s also from the Auvergne, from Aurillac. She’ll look in some of his hiding places just to make sure he isn’t nearby.”

“Gerbert. From Aurillac? The Gerbert of Aurillac, the tenth-century pope who reputedly owned a brass head that spoke oracles?” The fact that Gerbert was a vampire and had once been pope was of much less interest to me than was his reputation as a student of science and magic.

“I keep forgetting how much history you know. You put even vampires to shame. Yes, that Gerbert. And,” he warned, “I would like it very much if you’d stay out of his way. If you do meet him, no quizzing him about Arabic medicine or astronomy. He has always been acquisitive when it comes to witches and magic.” Matthew looked at me possessively.

“Does Ysabeau know him?”

“Oh, yes. They were thick as thieves once. If he’s anywhere near here, she’ll find him. But you don’t have to worry he’ll come to the chateau,” Matthew assured me. “He knows he’s not welcome here. Stay inside the walls unless one of us is with you.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t leave the grounds.” Gerbert of Aurillac was not someone I wanted to stumble upon unexpectedly.

“I suspect she’s trying to apologize for her behavior.” Matthew’s voice was neutral, but he was still angry.

“You’re going to have to forgive her,” I said again. “She didn’t want you to be hurt.”

“I’m not a child, Diana, and my mother needn’t protect me from my own wife.” He kept turning his glass this way and that. The word “wife” echoed in the room for a few moments.

“Did I miss something?” I finally asked. “When were we married?”

Matthew’s eyes lifted. “The moment I came home and said I loved you. It wouldn’t stand up in court perhaps, but as far as vampires are concerned, we’re wed.”

“Not when I said I loved you, and not when you said you loved me on the phone—it only happened when you came home and told me to my face?” This was something that demanded precision. I was planning on starting a new file on my computer with the title “Phrases That Sound One Way to Witches but Mean Something Else to Vampires.”

“Vampires mate the way lions do, or wolves,” he explained, sounding like a scientist in a television documentary. “The female selects her mate, and once the male has agreed, that’s it. They’re mated for life, and the rest of the community acknowledges their bond.”