A Discovery of Witches(164)

My mother was smiling, and my father looked as proud as he had when he took the training wheels off my first bicycle. Matthew peered down, along with another face that must belong to his brother. With them were a clutch of ghosts who looked amazed that anyone, after all these years, was making it out alive.

“Thank God,” Matthew breathed, stretching his long, white fingers toward me. “Take my hand.”

The moment he had me in his grip, my body lost its weightlessness.

“My arm!” I cried out as the muscles pulled and the gash on my forearm gaped.

Matthew grabbed at my shoulder, assisted by another, unfamiliar hand. They lifted me out of the oubliette, and I was crushed for a moment against Matthew’s chest. Grabbing handfuls of his sweater, I clung to him.

“I knew you could do it,” he murmured like the prince in my mother’s story, his voice full of relief.

“We don’t have time for this.” Matthew’s brother was already running down the corridor toward the door.

Matthew gripped my shoulders and took rapid stock of my injuries. His nostrils flared at the scent of dried blood. “Can you walk?” he asked softly.

“Pick her up and get her out of here, or you’ll have more to worry about than a little blood!” the other vampire shouted.

Matthew swept me up like a sack of flour and started to run, his arm tight across my lower back. I bit my lip and closed my eyes so the floor rushing underneath me wouldn’t remind me of flying with Satu. A change in the air told me we were free. As my lungs filled, I began to shake.

Matthew ran even faster, carrying me toward a helicopter that was improbably parked outside the castle walls on a dirt road. He ducked his body protectively over mine and jumped into the helicopter’s open door. His brother followed, the lights from the cockpit controls glinting green against his bright copper hair.

My foot brushed against Baldwin’s thigh as he sat down, and he gave me a look of hatred mingled with curiosity. His face was familiar from the visions I’d seen in Matthew’s study: first in light caught in the suit of armor, then again when touching the seals of the Knights of Lazarus. “I thought you were dead.” I shrank toward Matthew.

Baldwin’s eyes widened. “Go!” he shouted to the pilot, and we lifted into the sky.

Being airborne brought back fresh memories of Satu, and my shaking increased.

“She’s gone into shock,” Matthew said. “Can this thing move faster, Baldwin?”

“Knock her out,” Baldwin said impatiently.

“I don’t have a sedative with me.”

“Yes you do.” His brother’s eyes glittered. “Do you want me to do it?”

Matthew looked down at me and tried to smile. My shaking subsided a little, but every time the helicopter dipped and swayed in the wind, it returned, along with my memories of Satu.

“By the gods, Matthew, she’s terrified,” Baldwin said angrily. “Just do it.”

Matthew bit into his lip until a drop of blood beaded up on the smooth skin. He dipped his head to kiss me.

“No.” I squirmed to avoid his mouth. “I know what you’re doing. Satu told me. You’re using your blood to keep me quiet.”

“You’re in shock, Diana. It’s all I have. Let me help you.” His face was anguished. Reaching up, I caught the drop of blood on my fingertip.

“No. I’ll do it.” There would be no more gossip among witches about my being in Matthew’s control. I sucked the salty liquid from my numb fingertip. Lips and tongue tingled before the nerves in my mouth went dead.

The next thing I knew, there was cold air on my cheeks, perfumed with Marthe’s herbs. We were in the garden at Sept-Tours. Matthew’s arms were hard underneath my aching back, and he’d tucked my head into his neck. I stirred, looked around.

“We’re home,” he whispered, striding toward the lights of the chateau.

“Ysabeau and Marthe,” I said, struggling to lift my head, “are they all right?”

“Perfectly all right,” Matthew replied, cuddling me closer.

We passed into the kitchen corridor, which was ablaze with light. It hurt my eyes, and I turned away from it until the pain subsided. One of my eyes seemed smaller than the other, and I narrowed the larger one so they matched. A group of vampires came into view, standing down the corridor from Matthew and me. Baldwin looked curious, Ysabeau furious, Marthe grim and worried. Ysabeau took a step, and Matthew snarled.

“Matthew,” she began in a patient voice, her eyes fixed on me with a look of maternal concern, “you need to call her family. Where is your phone?”

His arms tightened. My head felt too heavy for my neck. It was easier to lean it against Matthew’s shoulder.

“It’s in his pocket, I suppose, but he’s not going to drop the witch to get it. Nor will he let you get close enough to fish it out.” Baldwin handed Ysabeau his phone. “Use this.”

Baldwin’s gaze traveled over my battered body with such close attention that it felt as if ice packs were being applied and removed, one by one. “She certainly looks like she’s been through a battle.” His voice expressed reluctant admiration.

Marthe said something in Occitan, and Matthew’s brother nodded.

“òc,” he said, eyeing me in appraisal.