A Discovery of Witches(55)

“You’re early,” he observed with a smile, taking my mat and putting it into the trunk. Matthew breathed in sharply as he helped me into the car, and I wondered what messages my body had passed on to him.

“We need to talk.”

“There’s no rush. Let’s get out of Oxford first.” He closed the car door behind me and climbed into the driver’s seat.

The traffic on the Woodstock Road was heavier due to the influx of students and dons. Matthew maneuvered deftly around the slow spots.

“How was Scotland?” I asked as we cleared the city limits, not caring what he talked about so long as he talked.

Matthew glanced at me and returned his eyes to the road. “Fine.”

“Miriam said you were hunting.”

He exhaled softly, his fingers rising to the bump under his sweater. “She shouldn’t have.”

“Why?”

“Because some things shouldn’t be discussed in mixed company,” he said with a touch of impatience. “Do witches tell creatures who aren’t witches that they’ve just returned from four days of casting spells and boiling bats?”

“Witches don’t boil bats!” I said indignantly.

“The point remains.”

“Were you alone?” I asked.

Matthew waited a long time before answering. “No.”

“I wasn’t alone in Oxford either,” I began. “The creatures—”

“Miriam told me.” His hands tightened on the wheel. “If I’d known that the witch bothering you was Peter Knox, I’d never have left Oxford.”

“You were right,” I blurted, needing to make my own confession before tackling the subject of Knox. “I’ve never kept the magic out of my life. I’ve been using it in my work, without realizing it. It’s in everything. I’ve been fooling myself for years.” The words tumbled from my mouth. Matthew remained focused on the traffic. “I’m frightened.”

His cold hand touched my knee. “I know.”

“What am I going to do?” I whispered.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said calmly, turning in to the Old Lodge’s gates. He scrutinized my face as we crested the rise and pulled in to the circular drive. “You’re tired. Can you manage yoga?”

I nodded.

Matthew got out of the car and opened the door for me. This time he didn’t help me out. Instead he fished around in the trunk, pulled out our mats, and shouldered both of them himself. Other members of the class filtered by, casting curious looks in our direction.

He waited until we were the only ones on the drive. Matthew looked down at me, wrestling with himself over something. I frowned, my head tilted back to meet his eyes. I’d just confessed to engaging in magic without realizing it. What was so awful that he couldn’t tell me?

“I was in Scotland with an old friend, Hamish Osborne,” he finally said.

“The man the newspapers want to run for Parliament so he can be chancellor of the exchequer?” I said in amazement.

“Hamish will not be running for Parliament,” Matthew said drily, adjusting the strap of his yoga bag with a twitch.

“So he is gay!” I said, thinking back to a recent late-night news program. Matthew gave me a withering glance. “Yes. More important, he’s a daemon.” I didn’t know much about the world of creatures, but participating in human politics or religion was also forbidden.

“Oh. Finance is an odd career choice for a daemon.” I thought for a moment. “It explains why he’s so good at figuring out what to do with all that money, though.”

“He is good at figuring things out.” The silence stretched on, and Matthew made no move for the door. “I needed to get away and hunt.”

I gave him a confused look.

“You left your sweater in my car,” he said, as if that were an explanation.

“Miriam gave it back to me already.”

“I know. I couldn’t hold on to it. Do you understand why?”

When I shook my head, he sighed and then swore in French.

“My car was full of your scent, Diana. I needed to leave Oxford.”

“I still don’t understand,” I admitted.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He raked his hand through his hair and looked down the drive.

My heart was beating irregularly, and the reduced blood flow slowed my mental processes. Finally, though, I understood.

“You’re not afraid you would hurt me?” I had a healthy fear of vampires, but Matthew seemed different.

“I can’t be sure.” His eyes were wary, and his voice held a warning.

“So you didn’t go because of what happened Friday night.” My breath released in sudden relief.

“No,” he said gently, “it had nothing to do with that.”

“Are you two coming in, or are you going to practice out here on the drive?” Amira called from the doorway.

We went in to class, occasionally glancing at each other when one of us thought the other wasn’t looking. Our first honest exchange of information had altered things. We were both trying to figure out what was going to happen next.

After class ended, when Matthew swung his sweater over his head, something shining and silver caught my eye. The object was tied around his neck on a thin leather cord. It was what he kept touching through his sweater, over and over, like a talisman.