A Discovery of Witches(46)

“I can’t conceive of what you would have to do to make me hate you, Matthew. I love you like a brother, and I will until I draw my last breath.”

“Thank you,” Matthew said, his face somber. “I’ll try to deserve it.”

“Don’t try. Do it,” Hamish said gruffly. “You’re about to lose your bishop, by the way.”

The two creatures dragged their attention back to the game with difficulty, and they were still playing in the early morning when Jordan brought up coffee for Hamish and a bottle of port for Matthew. The butler picked up the ruined wineglass without comment, and Hamish sent him off to bed.

When Jordan was gone, Hamish surveyed the board and made his final move. “Checkmate.”

Matthew let out his breath and sat back in his chair, staring at the chessboard. His queen stood encircled by his own pieces—pawns, a knight, and a rook. Across the board his king was checked by a lowly black pawn. The game was over, and he had lost.

“There’s more to the game than protecting your queen,” Hamish said. “Why do you find it so difficult to remember that it’s the king who’s not expendable?”

“The king just sits there, moving one square at a time. The queen can move so freely. I suppose I’d rather lose the game than forfeit her freedom.”

Hamish wondered if he was talking about chess or Diana. “Is she worth the cost, Matt?” he asked softly.

“Yes,” Matthew said without a moment of hesitation, lifting the white queen from the board and holding it between his fingers.

“I thought so,” Hamish said. “You don’t feel this way now, but you’re lucky to have found her at last.”

The vampire’s eyes glittered, and his mouth twisted into a crooked smile. “But is she lucky, Hamish? Is she fortunate to have a creature like me in pursuit?”

“That’s entirely up to you. Just remember—no secrets. Not if you love her.”

Matthew looked into his queen’s serene face, his fingers closing protectively around the small carved figure.

He was still holding it when the sun rose, long after Hamish had gone to sleep.





Chapter 10

Still trying to shake the ice from my shoulders left by Matthew’s stare, I opened the door to my rooms. Inside, the answering machine greeted me with a flashing red “13.” There were nine additional voice-mail messages on my mobile. All of them were from Sarah and reflected an escalating concern about what her sixth sense told her was happening in Oxford.

Unable to face my all-too-prescient aunts, I turned down the volume on the answering machine, turned off the ringers on both phones, and climbed wearily into bed.

Next morning, when I passed through the porter’s lodge for a run, Fred waved a stack of message slips at me.

“I’ll pick them up later,” I called, and he flashed his thumb in acknowledgment.

My feet pounded on familiar dirt paths through the fields and marshes north of the city, the exercise helping to keep at bay both my guilt over not calling my aunts and the memory of Matthew’s cold face.

Back in college I collected the messages and threw them into the trash. Then I staved off the inevitable call home with cherished weekend rituals: boiling an egg, brewing tea, gathering laundry, piling up the drifts of papers that littered every surface. After I’d wasted most of the morning, there was nothing left to do but call New York. It was early there, but there was no chance that anyone was still in bed.

“What do you think you’re up to, Diana?” Sarah demanded in lieu of hello.

“Good morning, Sarah.” I sank into the armchair by the defunct fireplace and crossed my feet on a nearby bookshelf. This was going to take awhile.

“It is not a good morning,” Sarah said tartly. “We’ve been beside ourselves. What’s going on?”

Em picked up the extension.

“Hi, Em,” I said, recrossing my legs. This was going to take a long while.

“Is that vampire bothering you?” Em asked anxiously.

“Not exactly.”

“We know you’ve been spending time with vampires and daemons,” my aunt broke in impatiently. “Have you lost your mind, or is something seriously wrong?”

“I haven’t lost my mind, and nothing’s wrong.” The last bit was a lie, but I crossed my fingers and hoped for the best.

“Do you really think you’re going to fool us? You cannot lie to a fellow witch!” Sarah exclaimed. “Out with it, Diana.”

So much for that plan.

“Let her speak, Sarah,” Em said. “We trust Diana to make the right decisions, remember?”

The ensuing silence led me to believe that this had been a matter of some controversy.

Sarah drew in her breath, but Em cut her off. “Where were you last night?”

“Yoga.” There was no way of squirming out of this inquisition, but it was to my advantage to keep all responses brief and to the point.

“Yoga?” Sarah asked, incredulous. “Why are you doing yoga with those creatures? You know it’s dangerous to mix with daemons and vampires.”

“The class was led by a witch!” I became indignant, seeing Amira’s serene, lovely face before me.

“This yoga class, was it his idea?” Em asked.