Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Saint-Lucien, France
Fall, 506

The first time Matthew saw Diana, he was six years old and thought she was an angel. He’d been playing near the temple dedicated to the goddess, when a woman – taller than he’d ever seen before – appeared in front of him. She was blonde and positively radiant, her skin shimmering and eyes sparkling. She smiled when she saw him and he was convinced that she was the most beautiful woman in the whole world. Even more beautiful than Madame de Clermont, a thing before thought to be impossible.

As she approached him, he noticed her strange clothes. She was wearing britches, like a man, but unlike any britches he’d ever seen before. The black material seemed almost fluid, like night flowing around the angel’s legs.

When she reached him, she bent on a knee, so they were face to face. “Are you an angel?” he asked, unable to contain himself. “You look like how the priest describes angels.”

She laughed. It made her eyes look like they were dancing. “No, I’m not an angel. What’s your name?”

He giggled. Her accent sounded...wrong...but her words were clear. “I’m called Mathieu. I live in the village. What’s your name?”

She looked surprised for a moment, before smiling at him. “Hello, Mathieu. I’m so glad to meet you. My name is Diana.”

He gaped at her, feeling shy. “You are the goddess?” He was suddenly afraid. What if she was angry that he’d been playing near her sacred place?

She laughed again. “No, no. I’m no goddess nor am I an angel. Just a woman far from home.”

He looked at her appraisingly. She must think me a fool. “I do not think so, madame. Women do not appear from thin air like you did. And they’re nowhere near as beautiful.”

She took his hand. “Well, you’re right in part. I am just a woman, but I appeared like this because of magic.” She laughed at his skeptical expression. “I’m what’s called a time spinner – I can visit people and places in the past. When I do, it looks like I’ve appeared from nowhere. When I leave, I’ll simply disappear like I was never here at all.”

“You will not stay?” he asked plaintively.

“No, I’m sorry, I can’t. I don’t have a lot of control over where I appear or how long I stay there. But I promise I’ll be back at some point.” She smiled at his grave expression. “Can you do something for me?”

He nodded. “Anything for you, madame.”

“Please don’t tell the manjasang up at the chateau about me. They are wary of creatures like me and I don’t want to worry them or cause problems for you or your family.” He nodded again. He could keep a secret.

She stood up, letting go of his hand. “I’ll see you again, Mathieu. Be good for your mother.” And then she disappeared.

Matthew stood there for a long time, pondering what he’d seen. She must be the goddess, he decided, no matter what she claimed. As a Christian, he couldn’t leave her offerings or pray to her, but he hoped she would appear to him again as she’d promised, even if it was blasphemous. The stories all described the gods as capricious and frightening, but this one seemed kind.

Chapter Text

The Bodleian Library, Oxford
September 22, 1998

Diana was the only witch in the library on Mabon. She knew her Aunt Sarah would be angry that she’d skipped the Oxford coven’s celebration, but she wasn’t in any mood tonight to make nice with creatures she barely knew. She and her mom had gotten into yet another fight this past weekend and the last thing she wanted was to spend time with other witches right now. Diana had hoped that her move to England last year for grad school would help their relationship – that a little distance would ease the tension – but now the arguments ended with a slammed phone instead of a slammed door.

Might as well get a little extra work done, she thought. She’d hated riding her mother’s coattails at Harvard for undergrad and had gone above and beyond to distinguish herself outside her mother’s shadow. There was no reason to start slacking now that she was building her own, separate academic reputation.

By 7:00pm, the library was starting to close and Diana was getting hungry. She’d had an early lunch and an inadequate breakfast and both were catching up to her. Her rooms were close, but she didn’t have much food in them. Getting a table at a cafe, however, might be a challenge now that term was starting back up in a few weeks. Students had begun streaming back into the city and the local restaurants and bars had gotten noticeably fuller over the last week.

Turning onto the street, she tucked her notebook into her bag, then walked straight into a man who she could have sworn hadn’t been there just a second ago. It felt like running full speed into a solid wall. She looked up and found herself staring into a pair of beautiful green-gray eyes. A blast of cold settled on her face. Crap. Vampire.

“Diana!” The vampire grinned at her like he couldn’t believe his luck, then pulled her into an embrace. “How long have you been here?”

Diana’s pulse skyrocketed, heart racing as panic surging through her veins. “Who are you? What the hell, get away from me!” She tried to push him away, but her hands met cool, solid flesh.

He immediately dropped his arms, releasing her. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean...Christ...” He looked like he wanted to say more, but couldn’t figure out what. He stood motionless, staring at her, which was almost as alarming as his unexpected and unwelcome hug.

Her pulse started to race again, this time as much with anger as fear. “Why don’t you start with who the hell you are and why you felt like you should accost me outside the library on my way home?”

He sighed, looking resigned, and pulled out a card with the university’s logo on it. “Matthew Clairmont,” he said, handing it to her. “I’m a member of the biochemistry faculty here. I recognized you as you came out of the library and was excited to see you again. I didn’t realize you hadn’t met me yet.”

She gaped at him. His words made no sense. “I don’t understand. How is it that you know me, but I don’t know you?” She narrowed her eyes. “Unless you’ve been stalking me?”

“God no.” He let out an explosive breath. “It’s your timewalking. You’ve visited me before. But I haven’t seen you since the 60s, which is why I hugged you.” He held up his hands, palms out. “I swear, I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just excited to see you again. Can I take you to dinner? I can tell you all about it.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. Her panic and anger had faded, but she was still extremely wary. A vampire? Claiming to know me? Diana thought to herself, feeling off-kilter. And he wants to take me out? Definitely not. “I have plans.” She belatedly remembered the holiday and that she obviously wasn’t celebrating. “Besides, I don’t believe you. I’m not a timewalker and I don’t use my magic. Not much anyway.” She glared at him, then took a step to the side, deciding to go back to her rooms after all. “Good night.”

He nodded at her, then smiled, seemingly unaffected by her ire. “Good night, Diana. I hope we see each other again soon.”

She walked back to New College at a deliberately steady pace, forcing herself not to constantly check for Matthew Clairmont’s presence. Once in her rooms, she scrounged up some bread and stuck it in her toaster. That and some tea should take the edge off while I decide what to do.

Her mother had flown to Africa yesterday for some field work, so there was no way to call her for advice. Diana snorted. Not that she’d be much help anyway. She’d been remote and hard to reach since shortly after Diana’s seventh birthday. Her father had been in Nigeria on a research trip and had been murdered by humans, scared of his magic. Her mom had never really been the same since and their relationship, which had been strained under the weight of that tragedy and the emotional distance that followed, had fractured further by her mother’s insistence on continuing the kind of research that had gotten her father killed.

Should I call my aunts? She knew they'd fuss over her, possibly insisting she come home. There was no way she could do that, not with term starting so soon. There’s no point in worrying them, Diana justified to herself, it’s almost certainly nothing and they’re probably busy anyway.

Once she’d eaten, Diana sat down with a book on her couch. She usually spent her evenings studying, but she was still too rattled by the evening’s encounter to settle into anything more challenging than a novel. While she had never felt connected to her own power or her identity as a witch, she did find magic in popular fiction to be incredibly entertaining. Tonight’s book was one that a fellow grad student had recommended a few weeks ago and insisted Diana try. It wasn’t her usual kind of thing – she didn’t typically go for Young Adult, even when she was a young adult – but the tale of a young orphaned wizard hooked her immediately. She figured that she identified a bit with the main character, even though the aunt that she’d gone to live with was wonderful and nothing like Petunia Dursley. And her mother was alive, even if she didn’t always act like it.

Diana eventually nodded off, too tired for even the adventures of Harry Potter to keep her awake. She later woke with her heart pounding and the persistent taste of cloves in her mouth. She’d been dreaming of running through a forest, enemies in pursuit, only to find herself bound in a trap, unable to escape. She got herself a glass of water and resettled in bed, hoping to quiet her mind enough to fall back asleep.

As Matthew walked out of the concert at New College, he felt a strange sense of unease. Usually an evening of music had the power to lift his spirits, but he found himself longing for the peace and quiet of Norway now that he had completed his field research. He’d enjoyed the wolves’ company and the wild beauty of their natural habitat. Something was off – he’d felt it ever since coming back to Oxford after the year away – and he couldn’t figure out what. It was like the city was holding its breath, waiting. But waiting for what?

As he walked back toward his rooms at All Souls, he let his mind wander. Maybe I should go home and visit Ysabeau for a while. His paper was due to be published later this year, now that all the requested edits had been submitted. All that was required was to wait – he didn’t need to be here for that and he knew his mother would appreciate seeing him.

He was so distracted by thoughts of home that he almost missed her coming out of the Bodleian. The wind picked up, however, and he caught a familiar scent. Honey, chamomile, lady’s mantle...Diana? He whipped his head around and saw her walking near him, her hands arranging her belongings in her bag. He sprinted toward her, a grin on his face, before she plowed right into him.

“Diana!” he exclaimed, before hugging her tightly. It had been so long since her last visit, he was almost starting to believe they’d never see each other again. She’d assured him they’d meet eventually, but she was always so vague and secretive about it that he wasn’t sure he entirely believed her. “How long have you been here?”

He immediately smelled her spike in adrenaline as she thrashed and panicked in his arms. “Who are you? What the hell, get away from me!” she cried. And with that he knew. This was Diana before she’d met him, before she’d spent the last fifteen hundred years popping in and out of his life. She always said I’d meet her where and when I least expected it. Outside the library on Mabon of all nights certainly qualifies.

He released her, mind stuttering over an explanation. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean...Christ...” He had no idea what to say, how to explain his reaction to her without causing her to run in the opposite direction.

She tilted her chin up at him, looking angry. “Why don’t you start with who the hell you are and why you felt like you should accost me outside the library on my way home?”

He sighed. There’s no hope for it, might as well tell the truth. She’s always been able to tell when I’m lying anyway. He reached into his pocket for his card. “Matthew Clairmont,” he said, handing it to her. “I’m a member of the biochemistry faculty here. I recognized you as you came out of the library and was excited to see you again. I didn’t realize you hadn’t met me yet.”

To his surprise, his words only seemed to confuse her more. She stared at him, uncomprehending for a moment. “I don’t understand. How is it that you know me, but I don’t know you?” If anything, she started looking even angrier. “Unless you’ve been stalking me?”

“God no.” Dieu, this is bad, he thought. If anything, his explanations seemed to be making things worse. Seeing no alternative, though, he plowed on. “It’s your timewalking. You’ve visited me before. But I haven’t seen you since the 60s, which is why I hugged you.” He made a placating gesture with his hands, trying to show that he meant no harm. “I swear, I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just excited to see you again. Can I take you to dinner? I can tell you all about it.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. She seemed calmer, though angry, which Matthew took as a good sign. “I have plans.” Her next words, however, dashed his hopes. “Besides, I don’t believe you. I’m not a timewalker and I don’t use my magic. Not much anyway.” She maneuvered around him, about to start walking away. “Good night.”

She’s here. Even if she doesn’t know or believe you yet, you know where she is. This is a good thing, even if it feels like your heart is being ripped in two. He smiled, trying to end their conversation on a positive note. “Good night, Diana. I hope we see each other again soon.”

He stood there, watching her walk away and it took every ounce of self control not to immediately run after her. He needed a plan. No, what he needed was information. Where was she staying? What’s her last name? Once he knew these things, he’d be able to find her again and convince her that he was trustworthy, that he wasn’t lying before.

As she rounded the corner, he started to follow. He knew that she could feel a vampire’s gaze, so he was careful never to look directly at her. It wasn’t long before he was back at New College, where this evening had begun. He watched as she entered a building, stopping to talk to the porter. He climbed up onto a building across the street and waited. From his vantage point, he could see her enter her rooms and settle on the couch. As the light started to fade, he noticed her drift off to sleep, her book still in her hands.

After waiting a while to make sure she was truly asleep, he made his way over to her window and slipped inside. He didn’t intend to stay for long – he just needed to know he’d be able to find her again, if she decided to leave Oxford. He started with her desk, finding a planner. Diana Bishop. He finally had a name for her.

Diana Bishop. As in Rebecca Bishop? Christ. He’d never met the witch, but she was famous for her second sight. He remembered a story from more than a decade ago, about Rebecca Bishop’s husband getting murdered somewhere in Africa – Nigeria perhaps? – leaving behind his wife and daughter. Diana, he realized. And she’s a doctoral student studying History of Science. Puzzle pieces about their past interactions fell into place and he smiled to himself, finally happy after centuries of waiting.

He wanted to stay and watch her sleep all night, but knew he couldn’t. She’ll wake at some point and being found here in her rooms would be disastrous, he thought. He comforted himself, knowing that they’d be seeing each other again soon, then slipped back out her window.

Once he was back in his rooms at All Souls, he picked up his phone and dialed Ysabeau. She answered on the second ring. “Matthew?”

“Yes, Maman, it’s me. I’ve found her, I’ve found Diana. She’s living here, in Oxford, in the present.”

Chapter Text

The Old Lodge, Woodstock
September 25, 1998

Matthew had never imagined that finding Diana would be more difficult than waiting for her to appear. He’d always thought that once he knew where she was, who she was, that everything would be simple. He’d sweep her off her feet, they’d get married, and then they’d live happily ever after. Dieu, what a fool I’ve been. I bungled that first meeting so badly, I’ll be lucky if she ever speaks to me again.

Looking forward to yoga with Amira had been his only saving grace this week. He couldn’t get close to Diana without scaring her off. Miriam had started leaving him nasty messages, demanding that he come into the lab and pull his weight, since he was in town. Marcus and Hamish both found the whole situation highly entertaining and poked fun at him every chance they got. And his mother had started calling him, offering unsolicited advice on how to approach and court Diana that sounded like it all came from the 18th century. His life felt like an unmitigated disaster, careening out of control, and he had no idea how to get it back on track.

Tonight’s class had finally had a decent turnout. He’d invited Amira to use the Old Lodge for her classes a bit more than a year ago, but getting vampires, witches, and daemons to all trust each other enough to attend the same class had proven challenging. Amira’s optimism and talent, however, had seemingly done the impossible – the room had been more than half full and all three types of creatures had been represented.

As Matthew walked over to his car and put his yoga mat in the trunk, he decided to spend the night in Woodstock instead of returning to Oxford. The lure of Diana, of spending the night outside her rooms, hoping to catch her scent on the breeze or listening for the sound of her heart, was strong, but he knew he’d go mad if he didn’t put some distance between them right now. Or worse, he’d scare her off even more than he already had.

Locking the car and turning toward the gatehouse, Matthew turned and saw her. “Diana?” His heart leapt in his chest at the sight of her. Is this my Diana? He didn’t think he could handle the heartache of her not knowing him tonight.

She smiled and ran to him, launching herself into his arms. “Matthew!” She kissed him and he sighed inwardly with relief. “We’re at the Old Lodge, but when am I? I’m guessing late twentieth century?” It was their standard greeting – she could often divine the general time period from his clothes or surroundings, but she liked to have a firm grounding in time and place.

He laughed. “Good guess. It’s September 25th, 1998.” He watched as her face fell a bit. She clearly remembered how badly he’d scared her.

“Oh Matthew, I’m so sorry. You must be going through the ringer right now.” She reached for his hand. “Let’s go inside, so we can talk.”

He let her lead him toward the gatehouse, pulling her into an embrace at the door. “Maybe I’d prefer to spend my time kissing you.” His hand cupped her cheek and pulled his mouth to hers. “I haven’t seen you for almost three decades. Talking can wait.” His other hand slipped under her shirt, touching the skin on her lower back.

She giggled as she pulled away. “Matthew!” she cried in faux outrage, before sobering a bit. “I don’t know how long I have. Don’t you have some questions? Or want some tips on how to get me to like you? I’ve imagined this conversation a thousand times and in it you’ve never wanted to just skip the whole thing.”

He pulled her inside, then let her go. “You’re probably right. Can I get you some tea? I have some green loose leaf and herbal bags, but not much else.” She made a face. “I’m sorry. It’s been so long since you were at the Old Lodge that everything you like went stale and got thrown out years ago.”

“I guess I’ll take a cup of the green tea.” She watched him, smiling, as he prepared a pot and set mugs down for both of them.

“So, first things first. Can I ask what year you’re from? Now that I’ve found you, I mean.” He’d spent so long waiting for her, he was desperate for any crumb of information he could get about her life.

“Probably not a great idea.” She shook her head. “The less detail you have about our future together, the better. You already know so much, just from my popping into and out of your life for so long. Besides, it’s a wonderful ride.” She smiled at that. “I wouldn’t want to spoil it for you. I know I’ve loved every surprise that’s come my way.”

He laughed. “Even my accosting you outside the Bodleian?”

She laughed with him. “Even that. I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but you were on my mind all this week. I kept thinking I’d seen you out of the corner of my eye, but then I’d turn and you wouldn’t be there.” She blushed. “Despite the rocky start, I had a bit of a crush.”

He grimaced, feeling guilty. “Well, there’s a reason for that. I’ve been following you.” He paused to pour them both tea. “First it was to find out where you lived and your last name. Then I was worried that you’d get hurt if I wasn’t there looking out for you.” He looked down at his hands. “It took a lot of effort to pull myself away from Oxford tonight and go to yoga.”

She took his hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “It’s ok, I understand. Don’t tell the me in this time, though.” She laughed. “She definitely won’t understand and you’ll have quite a mess on your hands.” She blew on her tea to cool it down. “Oh, this smells lovely.” She took a sip, watching him, waiting for him to collect his thoughts.

“I guess I could use some tips,” he said, feeling embarrassed. He knows this future Diana so well, so conversation is easy. The other Diana, though, is a mystery and that made him feel restless and uncomfortable. She’s been the one constant in his whole life – her emotional presence, even when she wasn’t physically there – and now he was finding it difficult to figure out how to win her over, how to insert himself in her life. He’d never even considered the possibility that she might have to be convinced to spend time with him at first, to get to know him.

She smiled reassuringly, eyes crinkling. “Well, that I can tell you. First: yoga.” He looked at her, inquiringly. “I’m sure you’ve noticed this week that I’m basically an exercise junky?” He nodded. “Well, physical activity is very important to me: running, rowing, yoga...all sorts of things really. The yoga studio the me in this time has been going to is thoroughly mediocre and I haven’t found a better one. Once we’ve had a chance to talk a bit, find a way to insert yoga into the conversation and invite me to a class with Amira.”

“Ok.” He nodded again, looking thoughtful. “Thank you, that’s very helpful. Anything else?”

“All that exercise works up an appetite.” He raised an eyebrow, causing her to laugh. “Not like that! I just mean, if you run across me after a morning workout, try inviting me out to breakfast.”

“But I already tried inviting you to dinner! And don’t tell me you weren’t hungry, I know you were.” She put her hands up, placatingly, as his voice got louder.

“Yes, I was.” She patted him, soothing his agitation. “But I was startled and coming out of the library, not just finishing a long run or session on the river. Try again, I promise. I love a hearty breakfast.”

Matthew took her hand and kissed her on the inside of her wrist, then inhaled her scent, closing his eyes. When he finally looked back up at her, her mouth was twisted into a half-smile, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Seeing you there outside the Bodleian was such a thrill, I could hardly believe I’d finally found you. And then when I went snooping to figure out who you were! I was so surprised, you could have knocked me down with a feather. Rebecca Bishop’s daughter, of all people.”

Diana made a face and he stopped. “What is it?”

“Well, my mom and I don’t have the...best...relationship in this time. Part of why I chose Oxford for grad school was to get out of her shadow at Harvard.” Her expression cleared when he started looking concerned. “It’s ok, I know you didn’t mean it that way. She is famous, especially in our world. I’m just remembering how hard I worked to distance myself from her.”

He stood up suddenly and growled, “Too much talking.” He pulled her to him, kissing her with all the pent-up frustration of the past three decades. “Dieu, I’ve missed you so much. I don’t know how I’ve survived all these years without you.”

She kissed him back, putting her hands under his shirt and tugging it up over his head. That was all the encouragement he needed. Before she knew what was happening, he had her sitting on the table, legs wrapped around his waist, and her shirt on the floor. He kissed down her neck, lingering at the scar there, which he knew would be extra sensitive, his hands dipping into the waistband of her leggings.

Beyond the normal attraction her naked body held for him, he’d also grown used to using the marks and scars on it to determine her relative age. She refused to give him any information, but he knew some things, just from the stories written on her skin. He had some memories of her, young and unblemished, but they were vastly outnumbered by the times he’d seen her marked.

He knew they were (would be?) mated. He’d almost never seen her without the silvery, crescent-shaped scar at her breast, at least not once she’d removed her clothes. He remembered the first time he’d seen it, he’d been human and hadn’t known what it meant. She’d brushed him off when he’d tried to ask her about it.

He knew she’d been tortured and branded with his insignia. The first time he’d seen the marks on her naked back, he’d gotten so blindly furious that he’d destroyed half the furniture in the room in a rage. She’d refused to tell him who or when, but he’d promised himself then and there that he’d kill whoever did that to her, slowly and painfully. His resolve hadn’t wavered in the centuries since he’d made his vow.

He knew she’d been attacked and fed on by a vampire. That she’d been bitten on the neck and inner arm, then healed with vampire blood, both scars cold and sensitive to the touch. He suspected, no he feared, that it was his fault. Her eyes were so sad when he’d asked about it, he wondered if that was how he would die – drinking from her, but too injured to heal. He supposed that, if so, at least she’d be holding him at the end. He could live with that.

He knew that she’d been pregnant and carried a child. Even if he hadn’t seen her pregnant at various points in the past – and Christ, she was glowing and gloriously beautiful each and every time – the stretch marks never fully faded, even with witchcraft. He hoped, no he prayed, he’d get to see her that way again. These were the scars that held the most fascination for him. Whose child was it? He’d assumed (hoped?) for years that it was his, a result of their time together when he was still human. He’d never smelled anyone but himself on her skin, not in a way that would indicate any kind of intimacy. But modern medicine had made him less sure. IVF and IUI meant a woman could have a child without ever even meeting the father. If he died, leaving her alone, he hoped she could find some happiness without him. His own heart had nearly stopped the day he first realized she was with child. And again, when he heard the twin heartbeats of the tiny souls growing within her. He almost, almost believed he’d imagined it, in the intervening centuries.

He knew that she’d been adopted by his father. The blood vow was impossible to miss for a vampire and he’d heard its song at various points in his past. It had truly shocked him when Philippe died. He’d always assumed Philippe would last forever, no matter how dire the circumstances. He’d even had proof, he thought, that Philippe would survive his imprisonment and make it home. But what he thought of as evidence of Philippe’s future was no more than an illusion. It taught him an important lesson: even with a timewalker, nobody really knows their future.

All the physical marks were present now, though the blood vow had since faded. He kissed his way across each and every one of them before she grew too impatient and tried to hurry him along. He smiled against her skin. “No rushing,” he said, nipping her gently.

She responded by undoing the tie on his yoga pants, letting them fall to the floor. She snaked her hand into his underwear, palming the hard presence there. “I thought you said you missed me.” He groaned. “You said you hadn’t seen me in something like thirty years? Surely a little impatience is called for.”

“You’ll be the death of me,” he breathed, peeling her out of her leggings and quickly removing his underwear. He entered her, hard, gasping into her neck. His usual gradual building, teasing technique was nowhere in evidence. He hadn’t realized just how badly he’d been rattled by his encounter with his present’s Diana. How scared he’d been that he might have changed things, prevented her from falling in love with him, with his carelessness. Having her in his arms again, being inside her, was like the first breath of air after almost drowning. It felt so good it almost hurt, but he couldn’t stop or slow down, he’d lost all control.

He knew he wouldn’t last much longer. He reached down between their bodies and started to touch her. First her breast, then down to her clit, he rubbed and massaged until bringing her to climax. As she came, she cried out and clenched around him, spasming, her heart pounding and breathing ragged. Her sounds, the feeling of her, it was suddenly too much and he broke, spilling inside her.

He kissed her again, rejoicing at the lazy smile on her lips. “I’ll never get over seeing you fall apart like that. You’re so beautiful.”

She kissed him back and grinned. “It’s nice to know there are some things I can say to get you to throw caution to the wind.” She gathered up her clothes and started to get dressed. “Is there any chance you could take me out for some dinner? I’m starving and I find it highly unlikely you’ve got anything here for me to eat.”

He picked up his shirt. “That could be arranged,” he said with a smile. He didn’t know how long he had with this Diana before she disappeared, but he’d make the most of their time together, just as he always did.

Chapter Text

River Thames, Oxford
September 30, 1998

Why can’t I stop thinking about him? Diana wondered to herself. She’d been unable to concentrate for the last week, mind constantly wandering to him: Matthew. At first she’d been frightened, then furious, but what was left after all that faded was curiosity. In the library working, while walking around Oxford, even now as she rowed along the river, she couldn’t stop thinking about him.

His story had been absolutely preposterous. I’d know if I were a timewalker, she’d insisted to herself. Besides, magic has no place in my life. It all comes at a cost, one that I have no intention of paying. But she couldn’t get his eyes – gray-green and so filled with happiness at seeing her – or his face, if she were being perfectly honest with herself, out of her head. She snorted, shaking herself out of her reverie. Term is going to be a nightmare if I can’t figure out how to concentrate and quit daydreaming about a vampire, of all creatures.

She finished her workout and stowed her scull, heading back towards her rooms to shower, eat, and change before she started her day. Maybe today I’ll actually be able to concentrate on my work in the library. She closed her eyes as she walked, enjoying the feeling of the light breeze on her face, and smiled.

Not a minute later, however, she reared back, startled, feeling the cold stare of a vampire’s gaze and her eyes snapped open. He was standing right in front of her, looking apologetic, hands raised slightly. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, I thought you saw me walking this way.” He cocked his head in concern. “Do you always walk around campus with your eyes closed?”

Diana laughed. “What, you don’t?”

Matthew shook his head. “No, I’m a vampire, not a witch. I only have the five regular senses and I prefer to use all of them.” He studied her for a moment. “I find it’s safer that way for all parties involved.”

She scrunched her face at that. “It’s a game I’ve played since I was a child.” She looked at him speculatively. “I thought you said you’ve known me for a while? Surely you’d know that.”

He shook his head. “You’ve never done it around me before. Probably because you knew I wouldn’t approve.” He looked sourly at that. “Besides, you don’t – didn’t – share details on your past or my future. Nothing that would make it easier for me to find you before I was meant to. And definitely no ‘spoilers’ about what life had in store.” He looked at her appraisingly. “I will say that while I understood the sentiment, it wasn’t until recently that I fully understood the context around that particular piece of slang.”

‘Spoilers’? Like this is some TV show with a plot twist halfway through the season? She gaped at him for a moment, then pulled herself together. “Well, it was nice seeing you, Professor Clairmont, but I need to get back to my rooms.”

“Please, call me Matthew,” he said with a smile. “I might be a professor here, but I’m more of a researcher – I don’t typically work with students. ‘Professor Clairmont’ makes me feel like one of those white-haired old dons lecturing giant halls filled with freshers.”

He’s probably ten times the age of those ‘old dons,’ Diana thought with a snort. Seeing him clearly waiting for her reply, however, she finally nodded. “Alright,” she said after a moment. “Goodbye Matthew.”

She stepped to the side, intending to walk around him, when he spoke again. “Have breakfast with me? I know this great little place. It serves a true laborer’s breakfast with tea as hot and black as tar to go with it.” He continued when she paused to consider. “Please? My treat.”

She knew she should say no. She’d been dodging her aunts’ calls all week, knowing that they’d have questions she wouldn’t want to answer. But I am hungry. And it’ll be far more filling than the toast I’d get back in my rooms. She nodded. “Sure. Is it far?” She tried not to flush when he looked relieved.

Matthew shook his head. “Not really, but a bit far to walk perhaps. I have my car nearby. It’s this way,” he said, motioning with his hand.

“Ok let’s go,” she said, starting to walk. Her heart gave a small flutter in her chest. Stop it, she told herself. It’s just breakfast. Once they got to where he was parked, she whistled. “Nice car. Bit conspicuous, though, don’t you think?”

He raised an eyebrow, sardonically. “You think the car is what will make people notice me?” He opened the door for her, motioning for her to get inside.

Diana laughed as she took her seat. “Ok, maybe not.” She turned to look at him once he started driving. “So, Matthew Clairmont, what’s your story?”

He glanced at her, torn between watching her and keeping his eyes on the road. “What do you want to know? My life is an open book.”

“That seems...unlikely...for a vampire.” She was skeptical – she might not know much about vampires, but she did know they weren’t known for being open with outsiders.

Matthew paused. “Well, you’re right, we’re normally pretty private. All sorts of secrets,” he said, grinning wickedly at her for a moment. “But you’re a special case where I’m concerned. Anything you want to know with one exception: I’m not supposed to give you any sneak peeks into your future, at least any more than I can simply by existing.”

Diana frowned. “Not 'supposed' to? Says who?”

“Says you. Something about how cause and effect interact with free will. You can’t change your own past, it’s set in stone. So where your future and someone else’s past meet, it gets...challenging.” He stole another glance at her. “You wanted to be surprised by what life has in store.”

She continued frowning. “That doesn’t sound like me. I don’t tend to like surprises.”

He shrugged. “Maybe not, but what would you have to look forward to if you knew everything that was going to happen?”

Diana laughed lightly at that. “You should ask my mother. She sees everything before it happens. It’s always driven me completely insane. It’s impossible to surprise a witch like her.” Her face stilled as she remembered her father. She took a breath before continuing. “That said, it’s never kept the bad things from happening, so maybe knowing the future isn’t such a blessing.”

Matthew nodded. “You once told me that you weren’t sure if there really was any such thing as free will, but you wanted to preserve the illusion for yourself as much as possible.” He gestured up ahead to their left. “Ah, here it is.” He parked the car, coming around to open her door for her.

“I can do that, you know,” she said, scowling. I don’t need a knight in shining armor to take care of me. I’m not some china doll. “I’m perfectly capable of opening my own car door.”

He smiled, as he gestured for her to walk with him. “I know, but I like doing things for you. Even little things, like opening doors or taking you to breakfast. It makes me happy.”

Once they were seated inside the restaurant, two teas and one large breakfast ordered, Diana ventured a question. “So, how old are you then, Matthew? You must be older than those ‘white-haired’ professors you were teasing me about earlier.”

He sat looking at his hands, reflecting for a moment. “I believe that my body is nearly 37 years old, but I was born around the time Clovis converted to Christianity. My parents remembered that or I’d have no idea. We didn’t keep track of birthdays back then.” He looked back up at her. “It’s tidier to pick the date of 500 A.D. and be done with it.”

She gaped at him, astonished. He’s fifteen hundred years old, my god. The things he’s seen… She opened her mouth to ask another question when her plate of food arrived. Once the waitress had deposited her plate and moved away, Diana asked, “does that mean you participated in the Crusades? Watched Charlemagne’s coronation? Met Machiavelli? Attended the University of Paris when Abelard taught there? Did you know Robert Boyle? Or Galileo? What about Isaac Newton?” She had to force herself to stop babbling. God, I sound like such an idiot.

He laughed quietly. “Because you’re a historian, I feel obligated to tell you that Machiavelli wasn’t nearly as impressive as you all seem to think he was. He was just a Florentine politician – and not a terribly good one at that. As for the others, some I met, some I corresponded with. One or two, I even considered friends.”

“What I wouldn’t give to have seen all of that.” She couldn’t keep the awe out of her voice. She shook her head, then narrowed her eyes. “Wait, how did you know I was a historian? I thought I didn’t...no won’t...no don’t – goddamn it, tenses are tough when discussing time travel – share that kind of information.”

He had the good grace to look sheepish. “Well, some I’d guessed based on knowing you. The rest, well...I may have asked around when I ran into you last week.” He looked at her apologetically. “I couldn’t let you go without knowing how to find you again. Not after waiting so long.”

Diana looked at him warily as she started eating. Matthew continued, “Well, if it’s an introduction to Boyle or any of the others, all you have to do is ask.” He laughed as her eyes widened. “Provided you visit me at the right time, that is. I’m happy to introduce you to any historical figure you come across in my past.”

She laughed. “It’s a deal, then,” she said between bites. “Have you spent much time in the States?”

“Some, not as much as I have in Europe or Asia. Why do you ask?” He looked confused at the non sequitur.

Diana blushed, feeling a bit embarrassed. “No reason really...I guess I was just thinking it’d be fun to show you some of my favorite places, since you’ve offered to introduce me to my idols.”

Matthew grinned broadly, making her heart flutter in response. “That sounds wonderful,” he said. “I think my favorite state in the U.S. is probably California – it’s certainly the one I’ve spent the most time in...in recent years, anyway.”

“Why California?” Diana asked, surprised. I’d have guessed New York or New England, she thought to herself. Though, I don’t know why.

“A few reasons,” Matthew said slowly. “It’s got a lot of natural beauty. I was rather fond of Hetch Hetchy before they turned it into a reservoir, though Yosemite is still rather nice, in spite of the tourists. The rural parts of the state have some fantastic hunting and there are some truly first-rate wineries.”

“Wineries?” Diana asked with a laugh.

“We vampires love wine,” Matthew whispered conspiratorially. “We can taste the soil and sunlight and everything about how the grapes grew and matured. It’s quite the sensory experience.”

“Really? That sounds amazing. I can’t say I’ve ever drunk much wine before,” Diana admitted.

Matthew smiled shyly at her. “Perhaps you’ll let me introduce you to it, then?” he asked.

Diana smiled back. “Perhaps I will. Though not at breakfast,” she said with a laugh.

They chatted amiably throughout the rest of the meal, enjoying each other’s company. Diana was surprised by how easy it was to talk to him, how quickly she’d started to relax with him. As they got up and walked out, she stretched, massaging her stiff neck. “I need to find a decent yoga class, my neck is going to freeze up permanently if I don’t get in a session soon.”

Matthew smiled, opening her car door. “Are you free Friday night? I know the perfect place. Best classes in the city, the teacher has a real gift. I could pick you up at 7?”

She grinned back at him. “Sounds perfect.”

Chapter Text

New College, Oxford
October 1, 1998

Diana knew she couldn’t keep avoiding her aunts’ calls for much longer. They’d been leaving messages with increasing frequency all week, rising to practically a fever pitch since her breakfast with Matthew the day before. She’d barely had time to take off her jacket and put down her bag when the phone started ringing again. Nosy witches, she thought to herself as she rolled her eyes. Might as well just get it over with, they’re going to disapprove no matter how long I wait. Besides, I have questions of my own that need answering.

She wasn’t sure when she’d decided to believe Matthew’s story about their adventures together, traveling through time. It frankly sounded like something out of those old episodes of Doctor Who that her father used to watch, not like real life – but she’d found herself imagining it, wondering just who she might meet and what she might see. So why can’t I timewalk now? And does this make Matthew Sarah Jane? She laughed quietly to herself at the mental image that evoked.

Diana finally picked up the phone, just before it went to voicemail. Fine, Sarah, you win. “Hello?” she said, bracing herself for whatever outburst was coming.

“Why haven’t you been answering the phone?” the voice on the other end barked out.

Hello to you too. Diana rolled her eyes again. At least she’s predictable. “Sarah, I’m fine,” she said with a sigh of exasperation.

“All signs to the contrary,” Sarah retorted testily. “Tabitha has been skittish all week, Em got a very clear picture of you lost in the woods at night, and I haven’t been able to get ahold of Rebecca, despite leaving multiple messages.”

“I’m fine, I swear. I had an unexpected encounter outside the library last week, that’s all. And Mom’s in Africa again even after I asked her not to go. Again. We had a fight about it before she left.” No matter how much she had pleaded for her mother to stop those trips, it never seemed to make any difference.

“Oh honey, I’m sorry.” Em had picked up the line. “You know Rebecca loves you, even if you two don’t always get along.”

“Sure.” Diana was not in the mood to rehash their mother/daughter relationship with her aunts. She hated how they always seemed to take her mom’s side, no matter how badly she’d let Diana down.

“So who rattled your cage?” Sarah asked, unwilling to get sidetracked. She’s like a fucking dog with a bone.

Diana sighed in resignation. “I met a vampire outside the library – one I’d never seen before, named Matthew Clairmont. Literally ran into him, actually. One second I’m putting something in my bag, the next he’s hugging me like I’m his long-lost best friend.”

There was silence on Em’s end as she flipped through her mental card file of notable creatures. Sarah was quiet for a moment too, trying to decide whether or not to explode.

“What do you mean, hugging you?” Em asked carefully, finally breaking the silence.

Diana took a breath, doing her best to stay calm. “What it sounds like. He backed right off, though, when I made it clear that I didn’t know who the hell he was. I was startled, but I don’t think I was in any danger,” she explained, trying to sound matter of fact. Hopefully if I don’t seem overly concerned, it’ll convince them it’s no big deal, she thought to herself.

Her hopes were immediately dashed to shreds, however, by Sarah’s outburst. “Not in any danger?! You draw creatures like flowers draw bees, Diana. But daemons aren’t half as dangerous as vampires. Promise me you’ll stay away from him,” Sarah demanded tightly.

Diana paused for just a moment too long, causing Em to ask, “honey, what did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything.” Diana’s voice got heated and she blushed at her aunt’s question. I hope they can’t see that. “We ran into each other again yesterday morning and he invited me out for breakfast. I went. It was perfectly friendly. We’re planning on getting together for a yoga class tomorrow.”

“Witches, vampires, and daemons aren’t supposed to mix,” Sarah said, voice rising with agitation. “You know that. Humans are more likely to notice us when we do. It’s not worth the risk.”

I probably shouldn’t mention the offer of wine tasting to them, Diana thought with a grimace. It sounds too much like a date and Sarah’s already going postal over yoga, of all things. “You’ve told me the rules before, Sarah,” Diana said, rolling her eyes. It’s like she thinks I’m still 12 years old! “And we didn’t attract any attention. It was just breakfast, all perfectly ordinary.”

“What did he want?” Em asked. She was the family peacemaker – always trying to cool tensions between the hot-headed Bishop women.

“That’s what’s weird.” Diana paused, unsure of how to explain. “He claimed that he knew me. That I was a timewalker of all things and we’d met each other in his past. It sounds crazy, I know. I can’t be a timewalker. But he did genuinely seem to know me. It’s got me all confused.” She shook her head, trying to dislodge the disconcerting feeling of not knowing what was going on in her own life.

“Of course you can timewalk. You’ve been doing it since you were a child.” Sarah sounded smug, just like she always did anytime Diana could be goaded into discussing magic. Diana knew it still rankled Sarah that she’d never shown her mother’s aptitude or interest in witchcraft. It almost seemed like she considered it a personal failing that she hadn’t been able to educate her niece, despite her success in teaching the coven’s children about herbal lore and advanced spellcasting for years.

Diana’s shocked silence greeted Sarah’s pronouncement. After a moment, she asked “what do you mean I’ve been doing it since I was a child?”

“The first time you were three. Your parents were scared to death, nobody could find you, the police were called out – it was quite a scene. Four hours later, you were sitting in the kitchen highchair eating a slice of birthday cake. You must have gone back to your own birthday party, either by accident or because you were hungry. After that, whenever you disappeared, we figured you were sometime else and you’d turn up. And you disappeared a lot.” Sarah paused for a moment before asking “you don’t remember any of this?”

“No. None of it.” Diana was stunned. She shook her head, trying to process what Sarah had just told her. “Wait, what did you mean, ‘either by accident or because I was hungry’? How does someone time travel by accident?” She closed her eyes, trying to clear her thoughts.

It was Em who replied. “It’s an uncommon gift, there aren’t many witches with that power. Stephen was one of them.” My father?

Em heard the unspoken question. “He used to take Rebecca with him, more often, though, before you were born. He’d use it for research, but also for fun sometimes – he took your mom waltzing in Vienna one year as an anniversary present.”

Sarah laughed. “God, he spent ages trying to find the right bonnet for her to wear on that trip.”

Em laughed with her for a moment. “Anyway,” she continued her explanation. “Your father said that timewalkers will often jump around without conscious control for a while once they come into their gifts. It’s usually when they’re little kids and not super powerful, so the jumps aren’t too far backward or forward. As the witch matures and gains control, they become able to decide where or when to visit and the uncontrolled trips gradually diminish and disappear.”

I could answer any historical question I wanted. I could meet any historical figure I wished. “How do I do it? How do I make it work?” Diana asked excitedly. For once, magic didn’t feel like a burden to be endured. Magic could be fun. She grinned to herself, imagining all the possibilities timewalking could open up.

Em sighed. “I’m not an expert. I can tell you what Stephen described to me, but you’re honestly better off asking Rebecca. She’d know more about it.”

Diana made a face, making Sarah laugh on the other end of the line. “Diana Bishop, I see that! You’ll need to talk to your mother eventually.” Her voice turned serious. “Besides, this isn’t the sort of thing you can get lessons on over the phone. It can be dangerous if you’re not careful. You could end up someplace or sometime you didn’t intend,” she said repressively.

“Fine. I promise to be careful and not to try anything until I can talk to Mom,” Diana assured them reluctantly. She groaned internally. So much for magic being fun, she thought.

“And stay away from that vampire!” Sarah demanded. “Just because he knows about the timewalking doesn’t mean he’s not dangerous.”

“Goodbye Sarah. Bye Em. I’ll call you in a few days,” Diana promised before hanging up the phone, pointedly avoiding the subject of Matthew as she did so. She was suddenly aware of butterflies in her stomach, realizing she was both more excited and more nervous about seeing Matthew the next day.

Chapter Text

The Old Lodge, Woodstock
October 2, 1998

Diana studied the entryway as she put on her shoes and got ready to leave. What a beautiful house, she thought, and remarkably well-preserved. She couldn’t help being surprised by the class, both by the other participants and well as the location. She was used to studios that looked like gyms – small, minimalist and modern. This was something altogether different.

Matthew noticed her looking around. “So, did you enjoy it?” he asked shyly.

Diana nodded. “Yes, very much. I was a bit surprised –” she shot him a look of reproof “– but it’s a class I’ll never forget.”

His face broke into a radiant smile, causing her heart to skip a beat. “I’m glad.”

Her face started to flush, embarrassed. How does something as simple as a smile from him turn my legs to jelly and my brain to mush? He must get...interest...all the time, I’m nothing special. Diana sighed. She couldn’t help comparing herself to the vampire – he looked like a model doing a photoshoot for athleticwear with barely a hair out of place, whereas she was sweaty, in mismatched and threadbare gym clothes.

Matthew picked up his keys from the side table. “Can I interest you in some tea before we head back to Oxford?”

“Where?” The last thing Diana wanted was to go somewhere noisy or crowded. She finally felt relaxed after the tensions and anxiety of the last few weeks.

“We’ll go to the gatehouse,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Is there a coffee shop there? I’m not sure I’m dressed for anything more formal.” She gestured to herself with a laugh.

“You look fine,” he insisted, smiling once more. “But no, there’s no coffee shop...just a kitchen. A place to sit down, too. I can make tea,” he teased her with a laugh.

“Matthew,” she said, shocked, “is this your house?” They’d made it outside to the car, where he opened the trunk and started putting away their mats.

He nodded. “I built it. The spoils of the Reformation. Henry gave me the land on the condition I tear down the abbey and start over. I saved what I could – an angel here and there and some stonework I couldn’t bear to destroy.”

Diana turned to look back at the house for a moment. “It’s beautiful,” she said simply, smiling brightly at him.

They started walking toward the gatehouse, side by side, then he looked over at her before continuing. “It’s a little strange, explaining the history of the house to you. I know that it’s new to you – that you haven’t been here before.” He paused. “But for me...well, you were here while I built it. At least for a short while. And you’ve certainly visited since then.”

Matthew noticed her face pale, then started apologizing. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to overwhelm you. It’s just taking some time for me to adjust to being the one who knows things. It’s usually the other way around.” His voice got quiet, shy. “The last thing I want is to make you uncomfortable.”

Diana nodded and paused, thinking of just how to explain what she was feeling to him. “It’s ok. I understand – it’s weird for me too. But...you...don’t make me uncomfortable, no matter how uncertain the situation makes me feel.” She smiled up at him tentatively, trying to reassure him. “So, do you live here? At the gatehouse?”

“Part of the time. I live in Oxford during the week, but come here on weekends. It’s a lot quieter.” He unlocked the door and gestured for her to enter.

Matthew lit a fire, then started a kettle while Diana settled herself at the kitchen table. Once she’d selected a tea bag from his assortment and the mug was steeping, she got up the courage to share what had been on her mind.

“I spoke with my aunts yesterday – my mom’s younger sister and her partner. They’ve been leaving messages since Mabon, but I’d been avoiding them,” she confessed sheepishly.

He cocked his head in a question, but didn’t interrupt. “I wasn’t sure what to think after meeting you. I guess I wanted to make up my own mind and I knew they wouldn’t approve,” Diana explained carefully. She didn’t want to offend him, but she also wanted to be honest. She took a sip, tea in her mug finally cool enough to taste. Perfect. She smiled. He certainly knows my taste in tea, at least.

Matthew nodded unsurprised, understanding her hesitation. “What did they say?”

“Before or after warning me to stay away from you?” she asked, laughing a bit. “It wasn’t a long conversation, but they did confirm the timewalking. Apparently I used to do it all the time as a small child.” Diana shook her head, still having a hard time reconciling the conversation with her own memories. “I don’t remember, though. And I have no idea how to do it now.”

“Well, at least you know I’m not some crazy stalker,” Matthew said with a smile.

God, that smile is breathtaking, she thought as she returned it. “I’d already decided that, but yes, it is nice to have it confirmed.” She sobered, remembering the rest of Sarah’s warnings. “They really, really didn’t want us spending time together, though. I’m pretty sure tonight’s class would have them both dropping dead of a collective heart attack. Witches, daemons, and vampires all doing yoga together for an hour? It would completely horrify them.” Diana shook her head. “I don’t get the prejudice.”

“They’re just trying to keep you safe,” Matthew said with a sigh. “Much as I dislike to admit it, they’re not wrong to warn you off.”

“I’m safe with you, aren’t I?” Diana asked, her face twisted in confusion. I feel safe with you, her heart whispered.

“No warmblood is ever completely safe with a vampire. We spend our whole lives fighting for control over our hunger, our desire for blood. It’s far too easy for us to take what we want and damn the consequences,” he said with a shiver, then shook his head. “But no, that’s not what I meant. They probably just don’t want you getting into trouble over me.”

She laughed. “Getting into trouble? With who? The magic police?” It’s not like Mom cares what I do or who I spend time with. Who else is going to give a crap? she thought as she chucked. The laughter died quickly, though, when she saw the look on his face. “What?”

Matthew swore, increasing Diana’s confusion. What has him so worked up? she wondered. It didn’t take long for an answer. “How on Earth does a Bishop not know about the covenant? Your mother never told you?” he finally asked incredulously, which instantly put her on edge. What does that have to do with anything?

“My mom and I aren’t close,” she said angrily, voice rising in irritation. “My aunts raised me after my father died. She’s odd and distant, barely caring about anything except her research. We certainly don’t discuss magic.”

Matthew frowned. “Why not?”

“I don’t use magic or power or witchcraft or whatever you want to call it. It’s not who I am,” Diana insisted, frustrated. She continued trying to explain, but his confusion seemed to only deepen. “I don’t want it. I never asked for it. I just want to be normal.” I should have known he wouldn’t understand. It’s not like I’ve ever been able to explain it properly to Em or Sarah either. At least Mom, for all her indifference, never bugs me about it, though I’m not sure if that’s better or worse.

“I don’t want to talk about this,” she said before he could respond. There’s no point, she thought to herself, shaking her head. “What were you saying about a...covenant? What’s that?”

Matthew ran his hand through his hair, clearly trying to come up with a way to explain. “During the Crusades, we – creatures, I mean – established a ruling council called the Congregation. It’s made up of three creatures from each species and it’s tasked with keeping us from being exposed to humans.” He sighed at her continued confusion. “We’d grown greedy and arrogant, taking what we wanted, getting too involved with their affairs. We were in danger of being hunted down and wiped out.”

“And you, what, agreed to certain conditions?” Diana asked. Surely rules created during the Middle Ages couldn’t still be enforceable? It’s absurd.

He held her gaze, then nodded. “When we mixed, we became too conspicuous. And when we got entangled in their affairs, they grew angry and suspicious. So we agreed to keep ourselves separate – to keep to our own kinds – and to avoid religion or politics,” Matthew confirmed, eyes serious. “It’s the Congregation’s job to make sure these rules are obeyed. With force, if necessary.”

“Then this –” Diana gestured between them “– isn’t allowed? And that yoga class we were just at? Was everyone there breaking the covenant?”

Matthew looked away, embarrassed. Diana had the distinct impression he’d be blushing if he could. “The class is a bit of a gray area. The specific wording is more along the lines of ‘close relationships,’ which that isn’t, but the number of creatures involved makes it...potentially suspect,” he finally admitted.

“And us?” Diana asked, noticing he hadn’t answered the first half of her question.

Matthew paused, considering. “No.” He sighed at the expression of doubt on her face, then continued. “You’re an important part of my life. You always have been. So, I may be breaking the covenant – have been, actually, for the entirety of its existence – but you haven’t crossed that line.”

Diana voiced the implication she heard in his careful answers. “Not yet, you mean,” she said with a hint of bite.

He shook his head. “Only you can answer that.”

“And you agreed to this?” Diana asked. She still sounded shocked. “Even knowing you wouldn’t be keeping it?”

Matthew sighed. “Not at first, no,” he said as he hung his head, refusing to meet her eyes. “I tried to stop it. I was furious with my father for even considering it! He knew how important you are to me.”

He took a breath, then looked up. “It felt like a betrayal at the time,” he confessed, “but there wasn’t much choice in the end. There were too many creatures willing to go along...so we could either agree too and have some measure of control – some input, at the very least – or we could fight it and end up either marginalized or dead.”

Diana nodded. “I see.” She squared her shoulders, making a decision. Screw the Congregation. “Well, I don’t let bigots tell me who I can spend time with. My friendships are my own business, nobody else’s,” she said, voice fierce.

Matthew smiled brightly, making her stomach flip over. “I’m glad to hear that.” He paused for a moment while she sipped her tea. “So, as your friend...can I ask about your research interests?” he asked, teasingly.

She laughed. “Only if you share yours first! You know so much about me – it’s only fair to even the scales a little bit.”

He opened his hands, palms up, in a gesture of openness. “What do you want to know?”

“What are you working on right now? Your card said you were a medical doctor, but also had a research lab on campus. And held a few different faculty positions” Diana eyed him speculatively. “That seems unusual – to have so many?”

Matthew shrugged. “Life of a vampire,” he said matter-of-factly. “We have the resources and time to pursue pretty much any academic interest. For a human, it would be highly unusual, but I didn’t need to learn everything from scratch when I went to graduate school or medical school. Also, it’s not like I need much sleep. It allows me to pursue wide-ranging interests,” he explained.

“Right now, I’m working on population genetics. I just got back from doing field research on wolves in Norway, the paper is slated to be published later this year,” he said as he played with the rim of his own, untouched mug of tea. “The lab is looking at humans and creatures, to see if what I learned from the wolves applies more broadly.”

“Why creatures?” Diana asked, feeling genuinely curious. “It’s not like you can publish your findings.” That, of all things, would surely have this Congregation in a tizzy, she thought with a laugh.

“No, that’s true,” he agreed. “We’re looking at a few different things: common ancestry, tracing family lines, that sort of thing.”

“You’re looking into creature origins?” She was fascinated.

Matthew nodded, slowly. “Yes. And...well, and extinction.”

Diana looked up sharply. “Extinction?”

“Yes,” he confirmed. “Vampires are failing to sire children. Daemons are becoming wilder, more prone to madness and less to genius. And witches are growing less powerful with every passing generation.” He paused. “We – my team and I – are trying to figure out why.”

He watched her for a minute, considering. “Would you like to come see the lab? Not tonight,” he assured her, after seeing her dubious expression. “Another time. I’d like to show you what we’ve found.”

She smiled, nodding. “I’d love that,” she said warmly, then yawned.

He looked at his watch, surprised, then stood up. “It’s getting late. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize how long we’d been talking,” he said as he cleared away their mugs. “I should take you back.”

He walked her back to the car, then drove her home, all the while keeping the conversation light. When he pulled up to her college’s entrance, he got out and opened her door, offering her his hand. “Thank you for joining me tonight.”

Diana smiled, then impulsively kissed him on the cheek. “Goodnight,” she said with a blush. “I’ll see you soon.”

Matthew smiled back as she rushed inside, embarrassed. “Goodnight, Diana.”

Chapter Text

Cambridge, Massachusetts
September 10, 1970

What the hell? Diana wondered. Just a moment ago, she’d been in her rooms at Oxford getting settled after the first day of term, exhausted by the bustle of campus, but exhilarated by the prospect of her new classes. She’d put her books down, turned to make some tea, then...she had no idea. She recognized where she was, of course. She’d spent four years as a student here and even longer as the daughter of a professor, but none of that explained how exactly she’d ended up outside Sever Hall in the middle of the Harvard Yard. Especially considering that just a moment ago, she’d been in her rooms in Oxford, a literal ocean away.

She looked around, taking in the sights and sounds. It was so familiar, yet ever so slightly...different...in a way she just couldn’t quite put her finger on.

“Rebecca? What’re you doing here? I thought you were in class for another hour.” A hand reached out, grabbing Diana’s arm and she whirled around to see her father. Her very dead father, looking younger than she’d ever seen him. I must be dreaming. This can’t be real. How is he here? How am I here? She gaped at him, unable to formulate a response, watching his eyes narrow speculatively.

“You’re not Rebecca,” he finally said, looking at her warily.

“No.” That she could agree with – she wasn’t her mother. But what else can I say to him?

“I’m sorry, but who are you?” he asked, still studying her face. “It’s just...you look just like my girlfriend.” He paused for a moment, eyebrows raised, waiting to see if she’d respond. She didn’t – couldn’t – no matter how much she ached to throw herself into his arms. How do I explain this?

“It’s frankly a little spooky how much you two look alike,” he finally volunteered, trying to draw her out of her reticence, only to have them both lapse back into silence. They stood there looking at each other for a minute, neither sure what to say. Eventually, he seemed to make a decision. He stuck out his hand, introducing himself. “I’m Stephen Proctor, I teach over at Wellesley. My girlfriend Rebecca is a grad student here. What’s your name?”

She took it, hesitantly. “I’m Diana,” she said finally.

Stephen cocked his head. “Diana what?” She hesitated again, so he continued softly, “I can tell you’re a witch. Why don’t we go somewhere a little quieter and you can share as much as you’re comfortable with. I promise I won’t press you for answers you don’t want to give. Okay?”

Diana nodded and followed as he started leading her away from the crowd of students. After a few minutes, they’d found a more secluded area of campus with benches to sit on and fewer people wandering close by. He sat down, motioning for her to join him, then turned to face her.

“So, do you want to tell me what happened?” he asked when she continued to stare at him.

I wish I knew what happened, she thought to herself. How am I supposed to explain when I don’t even understand it? “I’m honestly not sure,” she finally admitted. He raised his eyebrows, so she continued. “I was in Oxford, I’d just gotten home from the library. Term starts on Monday and I was getting some last minute work done before – nevermind, it doesn’t matter.” She looked down at her hands, embarrassed. “Anyway, I don’t know what happened. One minute I was in Oxford, the next I was here.” She looked up at him, helpless, at a complete loss for words.

Stephen’s eyes softened with understanding. “And I’m guessing we’re not in your present anymore, either?”

Diana nodded, eyes wide in surprise. “How’d you guess?”

He laughed. “Aside from the fact that you look like a carbon copy of my girlfriend? You’re not her sister and Rebecca doesn’t have any cousins.” He paused, surveying the students walking to class. “And you have my eyes,” he admitted with a small smile.

He took a small box out of his pocket, passing it to her. She opened it and gasped. Inside it was a diamond engagement ring – one she’d grown up seeing on her mother’s hand. “I’ve been carrying this around for the last few weeks, trying to find the courage to ask her to marry me. I’m guessing this means she says yes?”

“It’s 1970?” she asked, swallowing nervously. Stephen nodded. “Then I think so. Yes.” She handed him back the ring.

“So, why the uncontrolled jump?” he asked her. Diana just looked at him confused. “You didn’t mean to come here, right? And you weren’t trying to go somewhere else. It just...happened?” She nodded. “That sounds like an uncontrolled jump, like a little kid would make. But you’re an adult, you have more power, so you went farther than a child would have. Decades.”

“I don’t know,” she admitted, voice tinged with frustration. She hated not having the answers, not understanding what her own body was capable of. “Sarah says I did this a lot when I was really young, but I don’t remember it at all.”

Stephen’s brows furrowed. “You’ve never timewalked intentionally?” Diana shook her head. He continued to look puzzled. “And this is the first time you remember doing it unintentionally?” She nodded.

“I met someone at Oxford,” she started, then blushed. “Well, he ran into me and clearly knew me, but I’d never met him before. He claimed that he’d known me most of his life. That I’d been visiting him, starting when he was just a kid.”

Stephen’s eyes widened in surprise. “It’s...unusual...to unintentionally visit someone outside your own timeline or your immediate family. Nobody knows why exactly, but I suspect it’s either a defense mechanism – to keep you around people who know what the jumps are and are motivated to protect you – or an effect of your subconscious, that you only visit people your subconscious really wants to see. People who are tied to your sense of self at an almost intrinsic level.” He eyed her speculatively. “This person you met. Is he important to you?”

Diana flushed, embarrassed. “I don’t know...maybe,” she eventually admitted. “We haven’t known each other long.” He’s certainly admitted how important you are to him. That he’d be likewise important to you is hardly surprising, her traitorous mind volunteered, deepening her blush.

He nodded, understanding both her spoken and unspoken words. “I suspect he might be. If you’re going to be visiting him, I mean,” he said, before pausing to think for a moment. “I’m concerned that it’s happening to you now, though.” The same thought had been bugging her since her phone call with Sarah and Em. Why wouldn’t I have been able to do this all along?

Stephen rubbed his neck, then reached over and picked at an invisible thread on her shirt. She didn’t see him pick up anything, but he paled a bit, as if whatever he’d seen had scared him. “This is something you should’ve learned to control when you were young. Learning as an adult is bound to be more dangerous,” he cautioned. “You can go a lot farther...and your close family seemingly includes more than blood relatives.”

Realization burned through her. I could save him. He won’t be killed for another thirteen years. I could change it. She vaguely remembered Matthew’s words at breakfast, but surely it was worth trying. Anything was worth trying, if it meant my dad would be there to see me grow up. “Dad, I –” Diana saw his head jerk back, having had their exact relationship confirmed, “– I, well, there’s something I should tell you. Something I need to tell you –”

“Don’t,” Stephen cut in. “You’ve already told me more than you should, just by being here.”

“But, it’s important –” she tried again.

“No. You can’t change it. Whatever it is,” he insisted, shaking his head. “You can’t change your own past, which means anything you tell me now won’t or can’t be changed. Trust me, I’ve tried,” he said ruefully.

He could see her confusion, so he tried another tack. “Listen, the more we know about our own futures – immovable, unchangeable things, like from timewalking, not the ephemeral, like from visions or prophecies – the less free will we have,” he explained slowly, watching her face. “We only have choices because we don’t know what’s coming. Once you do, no choice you make will alter the future. Because what triggers your knowledge of it is in your past, cause and effect get all screwed up and you end up knowing what’s coming and yet forced to see it through.”

Stephen looked around for a moment, then back at Diana. “Embrace uncertainty,” he said with a warm smile. “Knowing your future doesn’t change it, it only steals the joy and hope that come from the possibility of being surprised.”

Diana nodded, feeling tears well up in her eyes. It’s like losing him all over again. “Okay,” she said in a whisper. “I’m sorry.”

Stephen reached out to pat her hand. “Don’t worry about it, it’s okay,” he said with a shake of his head. “This stuff is hard, especially when you’re new to it.”

He looked at his watch, then stood up. “I’ve got to meet Rebecca,” he announced regretfully. “I don’t want her to think I’ve stood her up.”

“But how do I get back?” Diana asked in alarm. “I can’t be stuck here.”

He laughed. “Don’t worry, you’ll just disappear at some point. Eventually you’ll be able to tell when it’s about to happen – once you can, it’ll start becoming easier to control if and when you jump. Until then, try to avoid spending time where people will notice if you suddenly vanish,” Stephen said with a grin. He got out his wallet and handed her some money. “Here’s enough for a meal and some drinks while you wait.”

She stood up, pocketing the money, then threw her arms around him in a tight hug. “Thanks, Dad,” she said, trying not to sob.

“Nice meeting you, Miss Bishop. Take care of yourself.” He smiled at her, then turned and started to walk away. He paused after he’d walked about a dozen feet, then turned back. “You know, I used to have an imaginary friend named Diana when I was a little kid. She was about my age, but with bright, strawberry blonde hair and big, blue eyes just like you.” He laughed to himself, then turned around and walked back the way they’d originally come.

Diana watched until he was out of sight, hungry for any last, lingering connection. Goodbye, Dad. I miss you, she thought to herself as she suddenly found herself back in her rooms in Oxford.

Chapter Text

Oxford University, United Kingdom
October 8, 1998

I’ve never seen a lab so empty before, Diana thought as Matthew buzzed her inside. She’d visited her best friend, Chris, at his student research jobs a number of times while they were at Harvard together, but there were always lots of other students milling about whenever she was present. It was still afternoon – she’d cut her hours at the library short today for the visit – but she couldn’t see anyone else here.

“Where is everyone? Is today some bank holiday that I’m unaware of?” Diana asked him.

Matthew paused for a moment and looked at her. “No. We just have a very small staff because of the nature of the research. Come, let me introduce you.” He led her over to the main area as two people exited one of the adjoining rooms. They both looked young – around her age – and were dressed far more informally than Matthew. The man was wearing a band t-shirt with ripped jeans and sneakers, while the woman was wearing a graphic t-shirt with a miniskirt and boots. As they turned to look at her, she realized they were both vampires. So much for them being my age. Probably more like ten times that. Each.

“Hi Diana!” The young man greeted her brightly as they approached. He took a deep breath. “I’m so glad Matthew could bring you in. And AB-positive too – any chance you could give us a sample?”

Matthew glanced at him sharply, a warning in his eyes. “She’s here as my guest, not as a pincushion. Diana, I’d like you to meet my colleagues: Miriam Shepherd and Marcus Whitmore. Miriam and Marcus, this is Diana Bishop. I’ve promised to show her what we’ve found regarding creature origins and extinction.”

“Bishop?” Miriam asked, sounding surprised.

“Yes, hello. It’s nice to meet you.” Diana stuck out her hand while Miriam stared at her. She turned to Matthew, dropping her hand back to her side. What’s her problem?

Matthew gave Miriam a hard look. “Be nice Miriam.”

Miriam gave herself a small shake. “I’m sorry, Matthew.” She turned to Diana. “Sorry, Diana. It’s just...Matthew never mentioned your last name. Bishop. Damn. No wonder.”

“What do you mean?” Diana asked, feeling defensive. This better not be about my mother.

“I’ve known Matthew for a long time.” She gave him a quick glance. “He and my husband, Bertrand, are practically brothers. So, I’ve heard about you – met you, even, centuries ago – but I’ve never encountered magic quite like yours.”

“Oh.” Diana stood there for a moment awkwardly, unsure how to respond. She’s never encountered magic like mine before? That seems unlikely, given how bad I am at it. Eventually, she turned back to Matthew. “So, it’s just the three of you here?”

He nodded. “Yes. We have samples of creature DNA stored in the history lab, so we keep access extremely limited.” Matthew walked over to a research station and pulled out some files to show her. Miriam and Marcus wandered back toward their offices, clearly curious, but not wanting to intrude. One folder a label with “Benvenguda” typed neatly along the edge, while the other was labelled “Good, Beatrice.” Each was filled with pages and pages of graphs.

“These are DNA sequences and other forms of genetic test results,” Matthew explained slowly, making sure to pause periodically for questions. He pulled a few pieces of paper out from the stacks, then continued. “These here tell us about the mitochondrial DNA of a woman named Benvenguda, which she inherited from her mother, and her mother’s mother, and every female ancestor before her.”

“What about her father?” Diana asked. I always thought DNA came from both parents?

Matthew picked up another set of test results. “Benvenguda’s human father is here, in her nuclear DNA, along with her mother, who was a witch.” He returned to the other papers. “But the mitochondrial DNA, outside the cell’s nucleus, records only her maternal ancestry.”

“Why study both?” I’ve never even heard of mitochondrial DNA before. I really should have paid better attention when Chris was tutoring me in Bio during undergrad. I wish I could call him and ask him about this – he’d be fascinated, probably jump on a plane to see for himself once he got over the shock.

“Your nuclear DNA tells us about you as an individual – how your parents’ genes combined to create you,” Matthew explained, making sure to answer her question as clearly as possible. “Whereas mitochondrial DNA helps us understand the history of a species.”

Diana nodded, studying the graphs and trying to make sense of them. “Who was she?” she finally asked.

“A very powerful witch who lived in Brittany during the seventh century,” Miriam answered. She’d approached them from behind without Diana noticing. “Beatrice Good here was one of her last known direct descendants.”

“If you look at them side-by-side,” Matthew showed her, “you can see the similarities in their mitochondrial DNA. There are a few differences – Beatrice’s sample showed fewer markers that we associate with magical gifts.”

“And similar things are happening with daemons and vampires?” Diana looked up at Matthew’s face.

“Yes and no. The genetic changes look quite a bit different, but the result is the same.” His face looked bleak. “We – creatures, I mean – are dying out.”

Diana fingered one of the pages. “You said that Beatrice had fewer genetic markers associated with magic. Can you tell what they’re for?”

Matthew gestured ambiguity. “Yes and no,” he repeated. “The most common or flashy powers – certain elemental abilities, flying, that kind of magic – we’ve started to identify. This here, for example,” he pointed down at a bar on the graph, “is affinity for earth magic, which is used in spellcasting. But we’ve just started looking and we’re mostly working with old samples and historical reports of the witches’ abilities, so the data we have is limited.”

“Would having a newer sample help?” Diana started rolling up the arm of her sweater. “I can’t tell you much about what powers I have, but I’ll share what I do know.”

“You don’t have to do this,” Matthew started, shaking his head. “That’s not why I brought you here.” He turned to glare at Marcus, who’d appeared behind him with a specimen kit and latex gloves.

Diana nodded. “I know that, but I want to help. Besides, it might be good for me to understand what’s in my blood. With my dad gone and my mom...well, unhelpful is probably the kindest way to put it...this might be the only way for me to really understand what I’ve inherited.”

“Alright,” Matthew said with resignation. He turned to Marcus to grab the specimen kit. “But if anyone is taking your blood in this lab, it’s going to be me.” He moved cleanly and efficiently – no chatter, no fuss – and it was done quickly. Once Diana had the puncture wound covered and had started to roll her sleeve up, he stood and motioned for her to follow him. “We can go over what you know about your magic in my office, where it’s a bit more comfortable.”

He showed her to his office, gesturing for her to sit opposite his desk. He grabbed a notepad and sat down. “Let’s start with what you know about your power: what abilities you’ve personally seen or experienced...anything, really, that you remember.”

Diana looked down, suddenly embarrassed. “I don’t actually know much about my own power, as I mentioned out there.” She paused, breathing for a moment. “Do you know how my father died?” she asked Matthew, as he watched, patiently waiting.

“Not really,” Matthew admitted. “Just what I remember hearing at the time – that he’d been killed somewhere in Africa during the early 80’s. Why?”

“He was a professor of Anthropology, like my mother, except he taught at Wellesley. They met at Harvard when she was a student.” Diana took a deep breath, steadying herself, fighting the rising panic. You need to tell him, it’ll help if he knows. “Anyway, they worked together a lot – the study of ceremonial religions was their specialty. That combined with their magic...well, it attracted too much human attention...and it killed him.”

Diana paused, sniffling, to wipe a tear from her cheek. God, it’s been fifteen years and I still can’t seem to talk about him without turning into a snivelling mess. Matthew silently handed her a tissue, waiting for her to explain further. “He was murdered while on a research trip in Nigeria,” she hiccuped, unable to get her breathing under control. “My mom was supposed to be with him, but she stayed home with me at the last minute...maybe if she’d been there, he wouldn’t have died? I don’t know. Maybe they both would have. But something about his magic frightened the locals and they killed him, pretty brutally. There was this picture in the newspaper...god, it was awful. I looked it up at the library when my aunts wouldn’t show me – I had nightmares for years about it afterwards.” She felt her panic start to rise at the memory. Breathe in...and out. And in...and out, she mentally recited, trying to calm herself.

Matthew’s hand came up to hold hers, steadying and grounding her. Reminding her she wasn’t that lonely, terrified child anymore. Reminding her she wasn’t alone. “I decided after he died that magic wouldn’t be part of my life. That I wasn’t willing to put myself in danger like he did by standing out or using my power. It seemed so much safer just to pretend to be human,” she confessed without meeting his eyes. “So I’ve avoided magic as much as possible since then. And I don’t really remember much from...well, from before.”

Matthew nodded sympathetically. “That sounds awful. I’m so sorry, Diana,” her murmured, continuing to hold her hand while she worked to calm herself down. They sat like that for several minutes until her breathing and heart rate returned to normal. “What can you tell me about your power?” he asked gently.

“Living with Sarah and Em, after my father died, I was the family disgrace,” Diana finally said, embarrassed at the admission of weakness. “I couldn’t light a candle or open a book with my power, no matter how hard I tried. The ceremony welcoming me into the Madison coven on my thirteenth birthday was so embarrassing...I’ve always wondered if the reason my mom hasn’t wanted anything to do with me is because of how bad I am at magic,” she confessed in a sad whisper.

“She’s always been so gifted, even by the standards of our family – having a daughter like me must have been a real embarrassment for her,” she said, tears starting to stream down her cheeks. “She’s never tried to help me learn or taken me to meet her friends in the Cambridge coven. Not even when I lived there during undergrad.”

“Diana, no. I’m sure that’s not true,” Matthew tried reassuring her. “I won’t pretend to know anything about your mother, but no parent could be ashamed of you.”

Diana shook her head. “You know, she didn’t even ask me to live with her while I was at Harvard? She just signed me up for the dorms, then cosigned when I was ready for an apartment off campus. She hasn’t wanted me to live with her since Dad died,” she said, frustrated at the reminder of their broken relationship. “It doesn’t matter now anyway. She has her life and I have mine.” She sat there for a while, lost in thought.

Matthew cocked his head. “And nothing else since then? Has there ever been anything you didn’t mean to happen?” he asked.

She studied her hands. “Well, I don’t know what you’d call it, but during my first year at Harvard, I got involved in the Theater department.” She looked up at him, embarrassed. “At first I thought it was just good acting, but then strange things started happening around the production. My hair grew out uncontrollably and the behavior of the other cast started mirroring the plot of the various plays we put on. It’s why I switched majors,” Diana confessed sheepishly. “I couldn’t figure out how else to make it stop.”

Matthew nodded encouragingly, taking notes. Diana continued. “I’ve also had chairs stack themselves and fall down when I’m angry, or my fingers start sparking and turning blue. That’s really it – I can sometimes make occasional little spells work...things to deal with emergencies like a broken washing machine, but nothing big.”

She paused, then looked up at him. “And there’s the timewalking, but you know more about that than I do.”

“I thought you said you didn’t remember the timewalking from when you were a child?” Matthew asked, eyes on his notes.

“I don’t,” Diana confessed, then flushed. “I did it again yesterday after getting back from the library.” Matthew looked up at her sharply. “It was an accident! I wasn’t trying to go anywhere, it just happened,” she explained.

“Where did you go?” he asked.

“Harvard, 1970. I saw my dad.” Her voice got quiet. “He knew who I was. He sat down with me, answered some of my questions, then went to find my mom.” She looked at Matthew, tears shining in her eyes. “He’d been on campus to meet her for a date. He showed me the ring he was planning on using to propose.” Diana sniffled. “She still wears it, you know, even though he’s been dead for fifteen years.”

Matthew got up, walked around the side of his desk, then sat down in the chair next to her. He put a hand on her shoulder comfortingly. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I should have known talking about this stuff might stir up difficult memories. It’s never easy to lose a parent.”

She nodded, wiping her eyes. “Thank you, but it’s alright. I volunteered after all,” she said, trying to smile.

“Why don’t we get out of here?” Matthew asked. “I can buy you dinner and tell you all about meeting Gregor Mendel,” he offered with a wink and a grin. “We can do the rest of this some other time.”

Diana laughed, her heart beating faster. “It’s a deal.”

Chapter Text

John Radcliffe Hospital, Oxford
October 31, 1998

“I feel silly,” Diana complained as Matthew pulled into a parking space. “Remind me why I agreed to this again?”

Matthew grinned, glancing over at her. “You make a very convincing witch,” he teased. “The hat suits you.”

Diana rolled her eyes. “Thanks. Do you get to just repurpose old clothes for your costumes?” she asked, eyeing his remarkably accurate-looking redcoat uniform.

Matthew laughed. “No, I wasn’t ever in the British Army.” He gestured to his outfit. “Besides, anything this old would be badly faded and incredibly fragile, no matter how well-made it was originally. Not to mention stained – military uniforms take a beating when actually used.”

He got out of the car, then came around to open her door. “The sword’s real, however, though the blade’s been deliberately dulled to avoid any accidents. The kids appreciate the more elaborate costumes and they sometimes ask to touch it.” Matthew’s face got serious. “Being stuck in the hospital is always difficult – for both them and their parents – but it’s especially bad on holidays, so we do everything we can to make it easier on them. I don’t do much clinical work, but I do fill in occasionally and always volunteer for these kinds of events when I can,” he explained as they approached the hospital doors.

Matthew led her down a maze of corridors, up and down stairs, and through at least one checkpoint before they found themselves outside the Paediatric ICU. Good luck getting back to the car without a map, Diana thought to herself. Matthew used some sanitizer on his hands, put on a surgical mask, and then motioned for her to do the same.

“These kids are too sick to visit the trick-or-treating stations downstairs, so we’re doing it in reverse,” he explained once they were done. “There are buckets with candy set up inside, all pre-sanitized. We’ll each grab a full bucket, then go around to the rooms, distributing the treats to everyone who’s participating. In some cases, the whole family will be there – we want to give candy to any kids we see, not just the patients, so that siblings feel included. Not every kid will have family here, though, so we want to make sure to give anyone who’s alone some extra time.”

Matthew looked over at Diana, checking before they went in. “Let me know if you need to take a break,” he said quietly. “It can be...hard...to be here, even when you’re not family. Don’t feel bad if it becomes too much.”

Diana nodded, swallowing nervously. What did I get myself into? she wondered as they walked in. I can do this, she resolved, looking over at Matthew. He was staring at her in that way he sometimes did, making her heart race and her stomach flip over. Sarah isn’t going to believe how I spent Halloween this year. If she even asks, Diana thought with a snort. Her aunts’ calls hadn’t exactly tapered off since she’d met Matthew, but they’d certainly taken on a different tone – they now involved far less catching up and far more exhortations about the dangers of spending time with vampires (in general) and Matthew (for her in particular). She was thoroughly sick of hearing about both the Congregation and the covenant – she knew her aunts were trying to protect her, but she couldn’t stand that they refused to treat her like an adult and let her lead her own life. It had gotten so tiresome that she’d stopped answering her phone most of the time, hoping that they’d eventually drop it. No such luck so far, unfortunately.

Her nerves faded as they went from room to room, replaced by a growing admiration for the hospital’s volunteers. The kids and their families clearly appreciated the activity and all the visitors. The parents were all teary-eyed watching their children participate in the holiday. Almost every patient had some sort of costume on – even the ones confined to bed and still in hospital gowns had been given paper crowns or masks to wear.

In one room was the tiniest witch, her older brother sitting in bed, dressed as a vampire. After distributing their candy, Matthew made a point of telling the little boy how “truly terrifying” he looked. In another, a young fairy insisted on trying to enchant Matthew with her magic wand – getting glitter all over his hair. Diana was the one who was enchanted. She’d never seen him with kids before, it was a side to the mysterious and ancient vampire that she’d never expected. By the end, she was grinning at him from ear to ear. I never want this evening to end.

Eventually, candy buckets empty and every room visited, Diana and Matthew made their way back downstairs. Once they were outside and out of the glare of institutional lighting, Matthew turned to Diana in surprise. “You’re glowing,” he said, smiling.

She extended her hands, seeing a faint shimmer. “Oh! That’s never happened before,” she beamed at him. “I’m not ready to go home yet. Why don’t we hit up that wine bar we went to last week?” she asked.

Matthew laughed. “They’re probably a madhouse right now. I know somewhere else we can go, though.”

They got back in the car and Matthew drove them back to his college. “I’m going to pop inside and grab a couple of bottles – I have a private cellar here, better selection than what we’d have gotten at the wine bar. We can then find a nice, quiet spot by the river to enjoy them.”

Diana nodded. “That sounds perfect,” she said with a smile, then settled in to wait for him. They’d spent a lot of time together in the past month – whenever Diana wasn’t in class or at the library, it seemed like Matthew would suggest a meal or activity they could do together. They’d made yoga at the Old Lodge a regular part of their routine, but Matthew also seemed to delight in taking Diana to new places or introducing her to new experiences. She couldn’t remember ever being happier or having more fun.

The only thing putting a damper on her mood was her accidental timewalking. She hadn’t jumped any farther than a few months since visiting her father at Harvard, but knowing more trips were in her future, but out of her control, had her anxiety constantly humming. I could have years of this ahead of me.

Matthew suddenly reappeared, disrupting her reflections. He held up a wine bag, seemingly full. “That looks like more than a couple of bottles,” Diana laughed.

He grinned at her mischievously. “I wanted options – besides two slots are filled with glasses. And one has champagne, so I can show you how to open it with my sword.”

Diana laughed delightedly. “That sounds wonderful. Do you have a ‘spot by the river’ in mind for us?” she asked.

Matthew extended his arm, taking her hand. “I do,” he said, eyes twinkling.

They talked animatedly as they walked, hand-in-hand. Eventually, Matthew steered them over to a bench with a particularly scenic view of the lights from across the Thames. Diana sat and Matthew handed her a glass with champagne after demonstrating the correct way to open the bottle with a sword. “I’ve never seen someone do that in person! I thought it was a special trick you only see in movies,” she exclaimed.

Matthew shook his head, grinning ear to ear. “Not at all. Next time, I’ll have you do it, now that you’ve seen the proper technique.”

Diana took a sip, savoring the champagne. “You mentioned earlier that you volunteer for events at the hospital regularly – what else do they do?” she asked.

“Halloween, Christmas, and Easter are the big ones. Christmas is much the same, except with gifts instead of candy. Some of the volunteers dress up as elves or Santa Claus, also, but I’m usually spared,” he said, laughing. “Easter means eggs and more candy, but the color palette is more pastel than orange and black. And only one volunteer is required to dress up like a giant rabbit.”

Matthew smiled at her. “Thanks for agreeing to come tonight. I couldn’t make it the last two years – I was in Norway doing field research at the time – and I didn’t want to miss it again.”

“You’re so great with the kids. I’m honestly a bit surprised you don’t specialize in paediatrics or something similar. They all loved you,” Diana said, smiling back.

Matthew’s face went still. “No, I can’t...I don’t treat kids, if I can help it.”

Diana turned to him, frowning slightly. “Why not? It seems like a natural fit.”

He swallowed, then looked at his hands, before turning to face her again. “I...I had a child. When I was human. He died young.”

Oh no, I’m such an idiot. Here we are having a nice night and I find a way to ruin it, she chastised herself. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up painful memories.” She grabbed his hand in support.

Matthew shook his head. “It’s a reasonable question.” He looked at her. “Besides, you’d find out eventually. It’s hard to talk about Lucas, even after so long, but it’s easier after a night like tonight. It’s why I volunteer for those events, to bring what joy I can to families who are struggling with the unimaginable – to give them some hope...and a happy memory to treasure later.”

“Do you mind telling me what happened to him?” Diana asked, softly.

He shook his head, looking lost in grief before answering. “We had a bad winter in my village, everyone was hungry. When spring came, so did the sickness. No household was spared, we all lost someone,” Matthew explained, staring out at the lights across the river. “My son, my wife, and I all got sick. I was the only one to recover. I became a vampire about a year later.”

“Did you get sick again?” she asked, suspecting she knew where the story was headed.

Matthew shook his head again. “I was drowning in grief and tried to commit suicide. I just couldn’t seem to go on without them.” He took a breath before continuing, his hands clenched and knuckles white with strain. “Ysabeau found me just outside the church – I’d jumped from a beam, high up – and turned me. She offered me a choice, but I was so out of my mind with pain that I didn’t understand what I was agreeing to.” He looked down at his hands, remembering.

Oh, Matthew, Diana thought, tears filling her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

Matthew nodded, acknowledging her words, but still staring ahead, unblinking. “Once I realized what she’d done, I was mad with rage. I’d wanted to die, to be with my family, but even that was taken from me.” He turned back to face her. “I eventually realized it meant that – if I was careful and lucky – I could find you, sometime in the future. That carried me for a long time. I eventually found other pursuits to fill my days, but knowing you’d be here eventually gave me comfort over the centuries.”

Diana was stunned by Matthew’s revelations. She’d guessed at the nature of his feelings for her – she’d have had to be completely clueless not to notice his interest after all the time they’d spent together recently – but clearly not their depth. Her heart broke from hearing the pain and loss in his voice. She picked up his hand and kissed it. “Well, I’ll come with you to the hospital any time,” she said with forced levity.

Matthew nodded, letting her steer the conversation into safer waters. “You’d make an excellent elf. You’re a little tall, but your ears have a bit of a point to them,” he teased, brushing back her hair.

Diana smiled and blushed, enjoying the feeling of his hand against her neck. “I can’t say I’ve ever dressed up as an elf before,” she laughed. “But for you, I might give it a try. What do you think – would I make a better elf than a witch?” she asked, gesturing at her hat.

Matthew pretended to consider this seriously for a moment. “I don’t know. You do make an excellent witch. Truly terrifying,” he said with a grin.

“Hey! That’s what you said to all the kids,” Diana huffed, crossing her arms over her chest in mock displeasure. She pretended to pout for a moment before breaking into laughter. Once she had finally stopped, she looked up at Matthew and noticed the look on his face. Is that longing? she wondered. Finally deciding to throw caution to the wind, she reached up for his neck and pulled his face down for a kiss. At first, he stayed motionless. Fuck, did I not read that right? she thought in panic. As her mouth began to pull away from his, Matthew let out a low growl and pulled her close, headless of their glasses of champagne.

“Dieu, you have no idea how hard it’s been not to kiss you a thousand times over the last few weeks,” he whispered against her lips. “It’s all I’ve been able to think about whenever we’re together.”

“So why haven’t you?” Diana asked breathlessly, pulling away slightly.

“I didn’t want to scare you off,” Matthew explained. “I startled you so badly that first day outside the Bodleian, I was worried that you’d run in the other direction if I wasn’t careful, if I didn’t take things slow.”

“I was ready for you to kiss me by the time you showed me your lab, weeks ago,” Diana admitted. She laughed at the stunned expression on his face.

“Well, I suppose I should make up for lost time then,” Matthew teased, kissing her with a grin. After a minute, he picked up their upended glasses, refilling them with the open bottle of champagne. “Does this mean I can take you out on a proper date?” he asked, smiling at her.

Diana flushed with pleasure. “I’d really like that,” she said.

Matthew’s resulting grin was wide and brilliant enough to light up the night’s sky. “Me too.”

Chapter Text

Oxford, United Kingdom
November 7, 1998

Part of becoming a vampire meant losing that sense of urgency that all mortals possess. Why rush about when time stretches on infinitely in front of you? A week, in the grand scheme of things, was nothing – barely a blip on a vampire’s radar. So why has this week felt like a goddamned century? Matthew asked himself. He knew, of course. He and Diana were finally living in the same time and they finally had an official date planned.

Matthew was both excited and terrified. He wanted to spend time with Diana, wanted it more than anything else in his existence. He wanted to impress her, to make her smile and laugh, to kiss her. He wanted her to fall as in love with him as he had with her. Hence the terror – Matthew, for all his many centuries of living, had really only courted one woman before.

His relationship with Blanca had followed a fairly standard pattern for the sixth century: careful, public interactions, followed by gifts, followed by expressions of mutual feeling, followed by marriage. That physical expressions of said feelings often accompanied the verbal was understood, though thoroughly hidden and vocally condemned by the village priest. It hadn’t stopped them, of course – she’d been two months pregnant when they finally wed – but it had added to that mortal sense of urgency.

Though Matthew had been in love with Diana for most of his life, he’d never had to court her before. When she had visited him in the past, their relationship had largely been already established. He hadn’t wondered where he stood with her since he was a young man – not even an adult by today’s standards. Wooing her had never been something he’d had to consider. And in the centuries past, while he’d had occasional lovers, he hadn’t been in an actual relationship with any of them, he hadn’t cared beyond raw, physical desire if they would accept him or not.

So, while he’d seen Diana a few times in the previous week – they hadn’t stopped meeting for yoga or occasional meals since last Saturday – he hadn’t been able to keep the panic fully at bay. Sadly for Matthew, Bertrand had been no help. He and Miriam had been married for longer than Matthew had been alive and he largely abhorred modern forms of entertainment, despite Miriam’s long standing addiction to film noir.

Marcus’s ideas were roundly rejected as more suitable for a whorehouse than a future spouse, much to Matthew’s chagrin. He knew Ransome had been a bad influence on Marcus, but he hadn’t realized just how bad until now. After their original discussion, Matthew made a note to have a long talk with Marcus about his conduct once everything with Diana had settled down. I refuse to have my son known as either disrespectful or overly licentious. Ransome may be beyond saving, but Marcus surely has more sense.

Fernando hadn’t dated since Hugh’s death, so he was probably just as clueless as Matthew, though Matthew hadn’t wanted to check and run the risk of opening old wounds. He wouldn’t have forgiven himself if he’d hurt his friend with his carelessness. Maybe if nobody else has any good ideas, he told himself as he mentally crossed Fernando off the list.

Baldwin didn’t know about Diana – and Matthew fully intended to keep it that way as long as possible. Besides, Baldwin had preferred to purchase his company for the better part of the last century, making his likely ideas wildly inappropriate. There’d been no point in even asking, Matthew had decided with a shiver. The risks vastly outweighed the potential reward.

And Ysabeau...well...Ysabeau should never be allowed to advise anyone on their romantic affairs. Matthew shuddered in horror, remembering some of her more...colorful...suggestions. It’s a damned good thing Philippe is dead because I’d never again be able to look him in the face after hearing all of...that...from her, Matthew reflected.

Hamish, though, had come up with some good ideas and provided some helpful guidelines around first date do’s and don’ts for the twentieth century. Yes: flowers are still acceptable. No: you don’t need anyone’s permission, besides from the lady in question. Yes: you can and should kiss her, if you don’t want her to think you’re not really interested. No: sex is probably a bad idea until you’re more established – while it might seem like a great idea at the time, it can cause unnecessary complications or mismatched expectations if broached too early. And so on and so on.

Matthew hadn’t wanted to take Diana out for a meal – they did that already with some regularity. He hadn’t wanted to stay in for a meal either, since too much privacy seemed like it might lead to violations of Hamish’s “no sex yet” rule. The theater, a concert, or sporting event were also roundly rejected as being too noisy or demanding too much attention from the audience, making it impossible to talk with one another. He’d been ready to tear his hair out when he saw a flyer on campus advertising the Oxford Round Table Fireworks and Bonfire event. There would be music for dancing, plenty of opportunities to talk alone yet not too much privacy, and the scheduled events should make it sufficiently festive, Matthew had realized with a sigh of relief.

So, after simultaneously one of the longest and shortest weeks of his life, Matthew found himself outside the door to Diana’s rooms, bouquet of flowers in hand, practically vibrating in anticipation.

“Just a second!” he heard her shout from inside. Matthew smiled, laughing to himself. She still hasn’t gotten used to the fact that I can hear what she’s saying just fine without her needing to yell, he thought. The small smile widened into a grin as he heard her muttering and swearing to herself. He tried schooling his expression as he heard her approach the door, not wanting to make her feel self-conscious. Besides, the longer it takes her to learn that, the more I get to hear.

All of Matthew’s mental preparations were completely forgotten, however, the moment Diana opened the door. His brain simply...stuttered...looking at her. Dieu, she has no idea how beautiful she is. After a long moment of staring at one another, Matthew finally found his voice. “You look lovely.” He smiled brightly, then kissed her cheek. He heard her heart flutter and felt her face flush slightly. “I brought these for you,” he said, indicating the flowers.

“They’re beautiful! Thank you, Matthew.” Diana took the bouquet, gesturing for him to follow her inside. “Let me just put these in some water before we go,” she said as she turned toward the kitchen. Matthew stood in the entry, waiting while she filled a vase and deposited the flowers in it. “All ready!”

“I hope you don’t mind walking”, he said, looking over at her as they headed downstairs. “It’s only about a mile from here and parking will be impossible that close to the festival,” he explained. “There’s a nice path through the park and across the river we can take instead of the main road.”

“Sounds perfect,” Diana reassured him. “I’ve been sitting all day. Besides, I like walking with you,” she said, smiling at him brightly.

By Diana’s estimation, the date had been absolutely perfect so far. Matthew had surprised her with flowers and the festival had been enormous fun. The bonfire had been cheery and she’d found the vendors’ stalls varied and interesting. Better yet, they’d used the distraction of the fireworks display to spend some time kissing on a bench a bit away from the crowd.

As they walked back together across the river toward her college hand-in-hand, Diana decided that she simply couldn’t wait to get back to her rooms. The kissing earlier had been far too circumspect for her tastes – a consequence of how public it had been – and she needed his hands on her now. She pulled him off the path into a secluded spot behind some trees, then reached up for a hungry kiss. God, his hands feel amazing, she thought as they roamed down her neck to her waist, then lower.

“Diana,” Matthew breathed, “maybe we shouldn’t…”

She pulled back, startled. “Shouldn’t what?” Diana asked, bewildered. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Christ no, I just...I don’t know.” He ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated and confused. “I haven’t done this...gone on dates, I mean...in, well,” he stuttered. “I don’t want to take advantage,” he finally concluded, protestations sounding weak to Diana’s ears.

She laughed and pulled his mouth back to hers. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I kissed you. If anyone should be worried about ‘taking advantage,’ it’s me. So, assuming you were enjoying that as much as I was, please just shut up and kiss me.” Fuck, please, she begged internally.

Matthew smiled wolfishly, then moved his mouth down to her neck, kissing along her collarbone while one hand held her steady and the other began exploring her breasts. Diana suddenly felt like she couldn’t breathe and her heart was pounding in her chest. He paused, eyes closed and nose at her throat. “Dieu, you have no idea what you do to me,” he whispered. Oh, she thought, her eyes going wide with surprise as she suddenly felt his cock pressed against her, hard and wanting.

“Matthew…” she panted, then felt herself being moved against one of the trees surrounding them. Diana felt one hand snake under her skirt and then pause.

“May I?” Matthew asked, sounding as breathless as she felt. Do you even have to ask? she thought with a groan. He has to know how badly I want him.

“Fuck, yes,” she breathed. He dipped his fingers into her underwear, beginning to touch her clit with just enough pressure to make her pant harder.

She reached down to cup him, but he used his free hand to grab hers. “If you touch me like that, I’ll lose what little control I have left,” he growled softly. “And fun as it might be to have you here, I’m hoping for a little more privacy when I finally take you to bed.”

His words had Diana flushing, imagining some hapless passerby seeing him taking her up against a tree. Fuck, why does that turn me on? she wondered idly. She must have made a noise, though, because he laughed.

“You like the sound of that?” Matthew asked silkily. “Me fucking you up against this tree where anyone might see?” His words surprised her – nobody had ever said that kind of thing to her before – but she found she liked it. A lot. The whole interaction had left her breathless and made her legs feel like jelly in the best possible way.

“You like the idea of having your thighs wrapped around my waist, coming all over my cock while you try not to cry out and attract attention?” he continued while she climbed ever higher toward completion. He sped up his fingers, and began thrusting them into her in time with her heartbeats. “Answer me,” he whispered against her neck. “I know you do – I can feel how your heart speeds up or skips a beat, how your skin flushes with pleasure. I can even smell how badly you want me right now. So tell me. I want to hear you say it.”

“God, yes,” she confessed, unable to help herself and too turned on to be embarrassed by everything he’d said. “Matthew, fuck, I can’t…”

She felt him smile against her skin, lips cool and smooth, as she shattered. She bit her lip to keep from crying out, almost breaking the skin with the force of her climax. She stood there panting for a minute, grateful for his strong hands holding her up. She felt entirely boneless and was convinced she’d have fallen to the ground without him supporting her. God, I was not expecting that, she thought to herself. Or rather, I was hoping for something like it, but talk about exceeding a girl’s wildest expectations.

Matthew gave her another searing kiss, then stepped away, allowing her to adjust her clothes into respectability. He reached out a hand for her, leading her back to the path. “Let’s get you home,” he said with a rakish smile.

“Will you come in with me?” Diana asked. She’d thoroughly enjoyed their, well whatever that was, in the trees, but she wasn’t nearly ready for the evening to end. And if he can do that standing up out in the open, then I want to see what he’s capable of once we have some privacy. And a bed.

He looked at her, considering, then turned his eyes to the sky. “Goddamn you, Hamish,” he said.

“Excuse me?” she asked, confused. Who is Hamish and what does he have to do with Matthew coming back to my rooms?

Matthew looked at her apologetically. “Sorry, I’d love nothing more, but it’s probably not a good idea,” he explained, sounding regretful. I happen to think it’s an excellent idea, she thought, feeling frustrated, though she kept that to herself.

She cocked her head questioningly. “Why not?”

“I’m a bit out of my depth here,” he admitted. “We’re way outside my expertise, as far as courtship rituals go. Much as I want to come back to your rooms, you’re important to me, Diana, and I don’t want to mess this up. I’d like to save sex until we’re both ready for it, though it pains me to say so. And I don’t think I could say no right now, not once we’re somewhere private.” He brushed a lock of hair from her face, then bent down for a kiss. “Besides, I promise to make it worth the wait.”

Diana shivered in anticipation. Fuck, I’m in trouble.

Chapter Text

Wilmington, Delaware
July 24, 1777

Where am I? Diana wondered. In all her accidental timewalking thus far, she’d never before jumped to a location with which she wasn’t already familiar. The feeling of displacement was deeply unsettling and her heart started to pound in panic. She couldn’t see much beyond the trees and small building in front of her, but the air held the foul smells of death and decay, making her eyes water and triggering her gag reflex. It was also hot and disgustingly humid, causing her to immediately start to overheat in the wool sweater and long underwear that was appropriate attire for Oxford in late November. This is one hell of a way to spend Thanksgiving, she reflected sourly. I’d rather be at home in Madison with Chris and my aunts.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” a familiar voice behind her said. “Are you here to volunteer?”

“Marcus?” Diana asked, turning around to address the voice and coming face to face with a young Marcus Whitmore. A human Marcus Whitmore. He looked instantly wary.

“I’m sorry ma’am, my name is Galen Chauncy, but everyone calls me Doc,” he said, eyes narrowing. “Have we met?”

Diana’s heart rate increased at his response. Clearly she’d said the wrong thing. Crap, how old is Marcus? And was Marcus not his name when he was human? He looked like he was in a uniform of some sort, though it was extremely dirty and of a style not seen in more than a century.

Diana took a deep breath and immediately regretted it. Goddess, please don’t let me vomit, she prayed as she struggled to get her reaction to the noxious smells under control. “I’m sorry Mr. Chauncy, you reminded me of someone I used to know. I apologize for my mistake,” she finally said, hoping that would be enough to allay his suspicious glances. “I seem to have gotten turned around. Where exactly are we?”

“Just outside Wilmington, ma’am, not far from the battle yesterday,” Marcus explained, unhelpfully.

Which battle? Diana thought to herself. And where exactly is Wilmington?

Noticing her out of place clothing and strange hairstyle, he started examining her for signs of injury or any other indication of who she might be or why she was there. “Are you looking for someone?” he asked.

“Diana?” a voice called from the doorway nearby.

She turned and saw Matthew. Oh thank god. She breathed a sigh of relief, smiling. “Matthew!”

He came over to them, addressing Marcus. “Doc, could you find my wife some more appropriate clothing? She seems to have been parted from her luggage.” His wife?

Marcus gaped at him. “Your wife, Chevalier de Clermont? What is she doing wandering around so close to the battle? And without an escort?”

Matthew shot him a withering look, making the young man shrink back. “A conversation I’ll no doubt be having with her. But in the meantime, could you procure something for her to wear? Men’s clothes will do, if no dresses are to be had. She looks like she’s about to faint in all these woolens.”

Marcus nodded. “Of course! I’ll see what I can find. It was a pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” he said, before scurrying away.

Matthew had been out scouting the area, checking for potential threats, when the sound of a familiar voice in the distance caught his attention. “...I seem to have gotten turned around. Where exactly are we?”

Diana. He raced back to the building housing the temporary hospital, hoping nobody would notice his inhuman speed. Dieu, of course she’d show up the day after a battle among the dead and dying. He finally arrived, seeing her talking to young Doc Chauncy – and in clothes that looked both uncomfortably hot and entirely unsuitable for the time period. He kept appropriate attire for her at his various residences, but he hadn’t thought to bring any with him to war. And none of his spare clothes would fit her. Merde.

“Diana?” he called, getting their attention. The look of relief on her face was intensely gratifying.

“Matthew!” she called back, smiling at him. It took every ounce of self-control he had not to beam at her, but he needed to maintain a stern countenance in front of Doc, if he wanted to keep the man from asking too many uncomfortable questions. He’d learned over the years that explaining Diana’s presence was always easier if the other parties were sufficiently intimidated – and so disinclined to pursue the clear inconsistencies.

Matthew walked over and addressed Doc first, trying to sound as imposing as possible. He needed to both get rid of the man so he and Diana could talk and procure her something to wear. Perhaps he could accomplish both tasks at once. “Doc, could you find my wife some more appropriate clothing? She seems to have been parted from her luggage.”

Both Diana and Doc seemed shocked by his words. Matthew understood Doc’s surprise, but not Diana’s. She’d always referred to herself as his wife in front of others and sometimes – often, even – in private. So why did it startle her so?

“Your wife, Chevalier de Clermont?” Doc asked. “What is she doing wandering around so close to the battle? And without an escort?”

Matthew glared at the man, hoping to suppress any further questions. “A conversation I’ll no doubt be having with her. But in the meantime, could you procure something for her to wear? Men’s clothes will do, if no dresses are to be had. She looks like she’s about to faint in all these woolens.”

He finally seemed to scare Doc away. “Of course! I’ll see what I can find. It was a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”

He led Diana over to a secluded spot, not far from the hospital, but in the opposite direction of the young man. “Your wife? Why did you tell him that?” she demanded. “And where exactly am I? He said something about a battle?”

Matthew looked at her puzzled. “We’re near Brandywine Creek, downstream from Philadelphia in the American Colony of Delaware.” He saw her eyes go wide with shock. “You know it?” he asked, surprised.

Diana nodded slowly before speaking. “You’re saying the Battle of Brandywine during the American Revolution was yesterday?” she finally asked.

“It was,” he confirmed. “You know of it?”

She nodded again. “I studied it in school. Good lord, I can’t believe it,” she marveled. “But that still doesn’t explain why you called me your wife back there.” Her temper had sparked, now that the shock had worn off.

“I told him you were my wife because that is the explanation we have always used,” Matthew snapped impatiently, “at least with people outside the family or Brotherhood.” And because at least in your present, we’re mated, even if we aren’t here and now. What is wrong with her? he wondered.

Diana looked taken aback. “I’m...I’m sorry,” she whispered. “This is all new to me.”

And in a flash, he suddenly understood. He’d been seeing Diana since he was a small child, but this was the first time she had ever traveled into his past. “Dieu, Diana, I apologize.” He raked a hand through his unkempt hair. “It’s been a trying few days. But I am glad you’re here. I’ve missed you,” he said, smiling at her, trying to be reassuring. I think this may be the first time I’ve ever seen her before we’ve been mated, he realized. No wonder she was so confused. Dieu, we might barely know each other in her present.

“It’s alright, Matthew. I’m just a little overwhelmed. I’ve never traveled so far before,” she explained with a sidelong look. “And I haven’t exactly known you very long.”

Matthew nodded, heart breaking slightly. A time before she loved me, he thought sadly. He reached out, wiping some dirt from her cheek and tucking her hair behind her ears. “We’ll get you into something more comfortable soon and then I’ll take you to our encampment. I’ll need to check on the Marquis before we go, but I can probably leave young Doc Chauncy watching over him. He seems a capable fellow and unlikely to accidentally kill the man with his attentions.”

Diana nodded slowly. “Doc called you ‘Chevalier de Clermont’ – does that mean you’re with the French forces?” she asked.

“I am,” Matthew confirmed. “Charged with looking after the Marquis de Lafayette and making sure he comes home in one piece, much as he tries to do otherwise,” he grumbled. Matthew was still sore that his father had assigned him this duty. The Marquis was an affable young man, but a foolhardy one, making it difficult to keep him from harm. Though you wouldn’t have been here to catch Diana, if he hadn’t been wounded in the battle, so count your blessings, he told himself.

“Can I meet him?” she asked, excitedly. “He’s a major historical figure!”

“Well, he’s been injured,” Matthew said, considering. “But he seems to be recuperating. Provided he’s awake, I don’t see why you couldn’t be introduced.” Diana gave him the brightest smile he’d seen in centuries. Dieu, she’s so beautiful. I’d do anything to make her smile like that again. He paused for a moment, listening to Doc approaching. “It seems like your new clothes are about to arrive.”

Once Diana had changed into Doc’s spare shirt and britches, she accompanied Matthew into the makeshift hospital to check on the Marquis. The young man was awake and in good spirits, so he made the requested introductions, to both their pleasure. The Marquis wasn’t himself a member of the Brotherhood and wasn’t privy to the...situation...surrounding Matthew’s relationship with Diana. As such, he was shocked by the introduction – Matthew had, after all, never once mentioned a wife back home, especially not one so tall, pretty, and...well, dressed so unusually. The amused glint in his eye, however, promised no end to the ribbing Matthew would endure once Diana had gone home. And the story was likely to follow him for as long as he continued his association with the Marquis and his cohort. C’est la vie.

Diana, likewise, had been as excited as a new puppy, making Matthew smile inwardly in delight. Nearly every time he’d introduced her to someone historically significant, she’d had a similar reaction and it never failed to please him. Making Diana happy was one of his greatest joys over the years and he took every opportunity to win a smile from her.

Back at the encampment, they spent hours talking. It was a welcome reprieve from the pain and deprivations of wartime.

He spent some time explaining about the Brotherhood and its role in the present conflict – namely, keeping the Marquis from accidentally ending up as a casualty of war in his enthusiasm for the cause. “He is a capable young man and a good fighter, for a human, but I fear his passions will get him killed.”

Diana seemed surprised by his revelations. “I thought the covenant forbade involvement in human politics?” she asked, her eyes narrowing in speculation. “Assisting a French aristocrat and the American revolutionaries in overthrowing the British crown seems like it should fall outside the bounds of what’s allowed by the Congregation.”

Matthew had the good grace to look embarrassed. “My father doesn’t let rules get in the way of good business,” he admitted sheepishly. “The Brotherhood has never shied away from politics, we’ve just had to be good at hiding it.”

“But that’s so dangerous!” she said in alarm. “What if you’re caught?”

He shrugged. “My father’s got ways of keeping us out of the Congregation’s eye, provided we’re not overly careless. Besides, we all have our jobs in this family – this is one of mine.”

“Being a soldier?” Diana asked softly.

He nodded. “Among others,” he confirmed carefully. “But my present duties aren’t terribly strenuous, I promise.” He smiled at her, stroking her cheek lightly, causing her to smile brightly at him.

Diana reached out to take his other hand, running her familiar fingers lightly over his skin, making his breath hitch. She looked at him for a moment, then surprised him by capturing his mouth with her lips in a soft, shy kiss. I’ve wanted to do that since I found you by the hospital, he thought. He hadn’t been sure what kind of physical intimacy would be appropriate, given how little she knew him, so he was delighted to find that she considered kissing permissible behavior. He wasn’t sure what he’d have done if she’d been here and he hadn’t been allowed to touch her. Probably abandon my post so I could go kill something in frustration, he decided. To have her so close and not be allowed to show her I loved her might just kill me.

As the afternoon progressed, they spent some time kissing quietly in his tent. Matthew was conflicted and did his best to be careful – he’d missed her terribly and wanted to make the most of their time together, but he had no desire to push relations beyond her wishes. He could tell she was feeling a bit hesitant, given the newness of the situation. But the smell of her skin, flushed with arousal and the heat of the day, would comfort him for years to come, he knew, even if they did nothing other than kiss. He would treasure the bright flashes of her beautiful blue eyes, the quirk of her smile, while he waited to find her in her present. Dieu, she’s beautiful, he thought for perhaps the thousandth – millionth? – time since he’d first met her.

Once it got dark, he arranged a small nest on the cot in his tent and curled up around her while she slept. It had been a long, exhausting, and confusing day for her, he knew. I love you, mon coeur, he thought as he listened to the steady beat of her heart. He let the sound of her breathing lull him to sleep, relaxing completely in the presence of his beloved’s scent.

When he woke, she was gone. Please visit me again soon, he prayed.

Chapter Text

Oxford University, United Kingdom
November 27, 1998

Diana walked into the lab, unsure exactly of her welcome. She’d called Matthew that morning and asked if she could come over – he’d agreed immediately, clearly worried about whatever had inspired the impromptu visit – but she knew that she was likely interrupting their work. She’d brought the clothes she’d borrowed from Marcus the previous day, wanting to return them, even if it was more than two hundred years late. Diana still couldn’t quite wrap her head around what had happened. Visiting her father in 1970 was one thing, but seeing Matthew in the midst of the American Revolution was something entirely different. She’d gotten to meet the Marquis de Lafayette, for god’s sake. It feels like everything is different now. Like I’m somehow more alive in a way I’ve never felt before, she reflected.

“Diana!” Matthew called from his office. He stepped out to welcome her with a smile and a quick kiss. “Is everything okay? I was concerned when you called this morning.”

Diana nodded, smiling inwardly at Matthew’s greeting. He has no idea what that smile does to me. “I’m fine. I just had an unexpected...trip...yesterday. I wanted to talk to you about it and I figured I’d return some clothes to Marcus, since I’d be stopping by anyway,” she explained.

Matthew was instantly alert. “Trip? Where...when...did you go?” he asked, looking worried.

Suddenly Marcus appeared in front of her. “Did I hear my name?” he asked with a grin, distracting Diana from Matthew’s question.

He looks so young and carefree. He’s barely changed at all, she thought to herself. Aside from the obvious anyway. “You did,” she laughed. “I wanted to return some things to you.” She handed him the bag, watching with delight as his face transformed from confusion to understanding.

Diana gestured to the bag. “I met a young Mr. Chauncy and I thought it was about time I returned his spare clothes,” she said with a smile.

“Good lord, I haven’t thought about these for ages!” He looked through the items, fingering the cloth. He smiled ruefully. “This was my only spare shirt – it took me months before I got up the courage to ask Matthew here to replace it. I was quaking in my boots, but the tailors wouldn’t take the Continentals’ scrip and the Continental Army couldn’t afford to pay in actual coin.”

Diana smiled with him. “Well, thank you for the loan, even if it did take a couple of centuries for me to return them. And I’m sorry for freaking you out by calling you the wrong name, by the way,” she said, blushing with embarrassment. “It never even occurred to me that Marcus wasn’t your original name, given that Matthew kept his.”

He laughed jovially. “Good god, no!” he assured her. “That’s not why you startled me. Marcus was my birth name, but I enlisted in the army under the name Galen Chauncy to avoid some...complications...with the law. Hearing you call me Marcus scared me half to death! I thought I was about to be arrested.”

“Arrested? You’ll have to tell me that story sometime. Somehow I just can’t see it.” Feeling better now that she understood why he’d been so uncomfortable, Diana let herself laugh with Marcus over the whole little adventure. Well, that’s one lesson to take to heart. Never assume you know someone’s name during a jump – it might attract unwanted attention. She looked over at Matthew whose face had gone positively gray. “Matthew?” she asked. “What’s wrong?”

“You didn’t touch any of the patients in the hospital there did you? Or anyone besides me and Marcus?” he asked in a rush. “Christ, I can’t remember.” He ran his fingers through his hair, clearly agitated. He picked up her wrist, seeming to check her pulse and temperature.

Diana looked over at Marcus to see if he understood what was going on. His face had fallen, taking on an identical expression of horror. What has the two of them so worried? she wondered.

“You two are starting to scare me. What’s the matter?” Diana demanded.

“Smallpox,” Marcus explained. Smallpox? “You were born in 1976, so you wouldn’t have been inoculated – by the time you were old enough, it had been completely eradicated. Hell, they weren’t even giving the vaccine to the public anymore by the mid-1970s. But smallpox was endemic in the late eighteenth century just about everywhere and especially rampant in the army encampments.” Her eyes widened in shock and understanding.

He turned to Matthew. “We didn’t have any cases for months after her visit.”

Matthew looked skeptical. “How can you be sure? Do you really remember all the cases of pox you encountered in the army?”

Marcus shook his head. “No, but her sudden appearance was so unusual that it stuck with me for years,” he said with a touch of humor. “Everything about that day and the following weeks was seared into my memory, even without the missing clothes! I can’t tell you what a relief it was once I finally learned the full story.”

He looked between them and sighed. “That said, she really ought to be given the vaccine as soon as possible. Can you imagine what would happen if she accidentally brought smallpox forward?” he asked, shuddering at the thought. “So few people are still vaccinated and almost nobody has any resistance anymore – it would be a public health nightmare. I’m assuming you can get your hands on the necessary doses?”

Matthew nodded. “It’ll take a few phone calls, but it shouldn’t be a problem.”

He turned to face Diana. “I’m so sorry, Diana. I should have thought of this before you started accidentally jumping into my past.” He took her hands, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll also have some supplemental vaccines included – the ones that are available, but aren’t considered routine.”

Marcus nodded. “Good idea. Make sure to include Yellow Fever in there too,” he suggested carefully, not fully looking either of them in the eye. “Don’t want her popping up in someplace like New Orleans without that. She can’t catch it from us, of course, but if she interacts with any warmbloods...”

Matthew frowned. “I don’t think she’s ever –” he cut himself off. “Regardless, it’s a good idea.” He gestured for Diana to follow him. “Let’s discuss it in my office.”

Once they were comfortably settled, he turned to her and began again to apologize. “I’m so sorry. It never even occurred to me before that you might not have sufficient protection...and it really should have.”

Diana shook her head. “It didn’t occur to me either, Matthew. And I’m supposed to be a historian!” she said ruefully. “I know all about the ravages of smallpox. But it’s different, growing up and knowing you’re safe from a thing only to find yourself in a situation where you actually have no protection from it at all. It’s going to take some adjustments on both our parts.”

Matthew’s skin was still tinged with gray, but the look of horror had largely gone from his face. He nodded. “Can you come back in on Monday? I should have all the important doses available by then. You might need some boosters around the start of next term, but I don’t want to leave it all until then. We got unbelievably lucky that you weren’t exposed to anything. If you got hurt or became ill because of me, I don’t know how I’d ever forgive myself.”

Diana reached out to reassure him. “It’s all right, Matthew. Nothing happened. I’m back and I’m safe, no need to beat yourself up.” She smiled teasingly. “Besides, I rather liked the look of you in your military uniform. That blue coat was rather dashing.”

Matthew laughed hoarsely, finally allowing himself to be diverted. “I’m glad you thought so,” he said. “It always seems a tad strange anytime I put on that redcoat costume from Halloween,” he admitted.

“Having been on the opposite side of the battlefield from that uniform on a number of occasions, it always strikes me as odd anytime I wear it. But when in England,” he said with a flourish of his hands and a small laugh. “And it is far more iconic – and easy to use, more importantly – as a costume than most of the uniforms I wore during that time period.”

Diana quirked her lips into a smile. “I can only imagine. I will say, though, it was strange seeing you in your warrior persona,” she commented. “I’ve only known you as a scientist and doctor up until now.”

“Do you mind?” Matthew asked quietly. “That I’ve been a soldier, seen battlefields...even killed people?” He couldn’t seem to meet her eyes. “I’ve done things over the years that I’m not exactly proud of, both in service to my family and through my own failings.”

She leaned over and kissed him, trying to drive away the shadows in his eyes. “No one can live as long as you have without having regrets or making mistakes, Matthew,” Diana whispered against his lips. “What’s important to me is who you are here and now. You can’t change the past,” she reminded him gently. “So try to focus on this time and place.”

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispered back. “But I’ll endeavor to try.”

Diana let out a huffing laugh. “I’m not sure I’d agree, but thank you all the same.” She kissed him again, then attempted to change the subject. “I read your article, by the way.”

“Really?” Matthew looked surprised, then smiled shyly. “What did you think?”

“I can’t say I understood all of it,” Diana admitted. “But what I did understand, I found fascinating. I had no idea that wolves had such complex social dynamics. And the way you described them was so evocative – almost like you could tell what they were thinking or feeling.”

“There’s a reason for that, you know,” Matthew said, teasingly. “We vampires are very like wolves. Our pack dynamics are similar, as are our mating rituals and how we raise our young.”

“Oh?” I shouldn’t be surprised, she thought. After all, haven’t I compared him to other large predators before? “How so, exactly?” Diana asked.

“Well, we tend to center ourselves around a single leader – the head of our family. We obey him unquestioningly...or at least, we’re supposed to.” Diana nodded, encouraging him to continue. “Those who are bigger or stronger take responsibility for the rest, protecting and directing them. And we’re extremely possessive,” he finally admitted. “We’ll defend those creatures we consider to be ours, often to the death.”

“And the leaders of your pack, they’re always men?” Diana asked sardonically.

Matthew shrugged, looking apologetic. “Yes. We’re a patriarchal society, unfortunately. While my sisters are all strong and, frankly, terrifying in their own rights, they’ll never head the family.”

Diana nodded, understanding. “And where does that leave you?”

Matthew shrugged again. “Following my brother’s orders and largely hoping he leaves me alone.”

“Your brother?” she asked, frowning. “You’ve never mentioned a brother before.”

He nodded. “Baldwin. He’s actually my step-brother,” he explained soberly. “His father, Philippe, was my mother’s mate. He took over the family when our father died. We’ve never gotten along.”

“And what about Marcus?” Diana asked, turning slightly toward the main area of the lab.

“Marcus?” Matthew looked startled at her question.

“I’m assuming he’s yours, right? After all, you were the only vampire I met during my trip and he was human at the time,” she pressed.

“Oh,” Matthew said, finally understanding the question. “Yes, Marcus is my son. I made him just a few years after you encountered us in that camp. We’ve had our ups and downs over the years. All children chafe at their parents’ restrictions from time to time and Marcus, well...Marcus has always been more independent than your average man – human or vampire. But I’m very proud of him and who he’s become,” he said with a smile.

Diana grinned happily and kissed him again. “I look forward to getting to know him better, then.”

Matthew smiled radiantly at her, making her heart pound. “Can I take you out for lunch?” he asked. “It’s almost noon and you’re bound to be getting hungry. I can make the arrangements for your vaccinations once I drop you off at the library afterwards.”

Diana nodded. “That sounds wonderful,” she said brightly, kissing him again.

Chapter Text

All Souls College, Oxford
December 03, 1998

“The last day of term is tomorrow – are you going to be able to stay in your rooms until you fly back to New York?” Matthew asked as he put a mug of tea in front of her. He considered getting himself a glass of wine, but decided against it, instead taking a seat next to her on the small couch.

Diana nodded. “Yes, they’re not kicking me out, thankfully.” She blew on the steaming liquid, trying to cool it down so she could take a sip. “It’ll be a little lonely and I’ll be all on my own for meals, but I can stay another couple of weeks while I wait for the inoculation blister to heal.”

“You know, you could leave this weekend if you’d just let me arrange it for you,” Matthew reminded her, brushing a lock of hair from her face. He was secretly grateful she hadn’t taken him up on his offer, though. It meant they had another two weeks together before she had to fly home.

Christ, she’s lovely, he thought to himself. He knew she was self-conscious about her wild blonde mane, but he loved it like this – beautiful, uncontrolled, alive – curling around her heart-shaped face. No one could ever mistake her for a vampire, he reflected, and thank God for that. He thought her hair was perfect, just the way it was.

She glared back at him, clearly unaware of the fanciful direction his thoughts had taken. “It’s going to be hard enough dealing with my aunts once they get wind of just how much time we’re spending together. If I let you send me home on a private plane, they might just drop dead of a collective heart attack.”

Diana paused, then sighed. “I’m not looking forward to the confrontation. I’ve mostly been dodging their calls all term, but that’s not going to work once I get home.”

Matthew’s face fell. “I’m sorry for causing trouble with your family. I know how important they are to you.”

Diana reached over to kiss him. “Don’t be. They’ll adjust.” She rolled her eyes, as if imagining the fight ahead. “But I can’t pretend I’m not happy to have a couple of extra weeks of breathing room.” She kissed him again. “Besides, Chris won’t be there until the 17th anyway – Harvard’s semester runs longer than the Oxford term.”

Matthew froze. “Chris?” he asked, unsure to whom she was referring.

“I can’t believe I haven’t told you about Chris!” Diana laughed. “Chris Roberts – he’s my best friend,” she explained. “We met in undergrad at Harvard and he’s still there for his doctorate. He’s a molecular biologist and a couple of years older than me, though we were in the same class because I graduated high school early. We bonded over our shared loathing of our freshman Political Science professor and have been close ever since. He’s a total genius.”

Matthew cocked his head. “He’s spending Christmas with your family?” And why am I only hearing about this now? he wondered. What if she decides she’s better off with another warmblood? Especially one she’s got a shared history with...that her family actually likes? Matthew immediately started doing some rapid mental calculations on what it would take to shift his plans, knowing he’d be unable to make nice with Baldwin – or, God forbid, Verin – with this hanging over his head.

Diana nodded. “He always does. His mom died when he was young and his dad passed away the year after we met. He shows up more regularly than my mom, believe it or not. She’s doing field research this year and isn’t coming home for the holidays...again.”

She looked at Matthew and laughed at the expression on his face. “Matthew Clairmont! Are you jealous?” She laughed even harder when he didn’t respond. “Oh god, you are!”

Matthew looked at her stiffly. Jealous doesn’t begin to cover it. “I just think it’s odd you’ve never mentioned him before.”

Diana continued to giggle. “God, there is nothing to be jealous of. Chris is like my brother – we’ve never had that kind of relationship.” She made a face. “Ew. No...god no.”

Matthew relaxed visibly, even going so far as to crack a smile. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly. She kissed him, accepting his apology, then her face turned pensive. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

Diana blushed. “It feels silly...damn, this is awkward,” she said before pausing, heightening Matthew’s anxiety. “I just realized, with you asking about Chris...we’ve never talked about exes.” Matthew’s face fell and her heart started to hammer as she rambled on. “Normally, I wouldn’t ask, but...well...if I’m going to be popping in and out of your past, I guess I just want to know if there’s anyone I should avoid...so I don’t blow up a relationship you care about.”

Christ, I never even considered that she might not want to drop in unprepared for what she might find. He kissed her reassuringly. “I haven’t been in a serious relationship since Blanca – my human wife – died. I’ve had lovers occasionally,” he said with a wince, “but nobody long-term or important enough to mention. Don’t worry about ‘blowing up’ anything. Until you came along, I hadn’t had any romantic relationships I cared about preserving. They were simply a way of passing the time or scratching an itch.”

Matthew suddenly realized he didn’t know much – well, anything really – about her past relationships. “And you?” he asked, trying to appear calm. “Any former paramours of yours that I should know about?”

Diana giggled. “Paramours? Oh, Matthew…”

He scowled while she attempted to get her laughing under control. “What? You asked me about romantic partners.”

She shook her head, unable to keep from grinning, no matter how hard she was clearly trying to control her face. “That’s not what I meant. Just the word, paramours! It makes you sound like a romance novel or straight out of the eighteenth century,” she explained, still laughing. “But no, nobody serious. I graduated high school at sixteen, remember, so I was a little young for most of my peers in college – at least at first. And I never had much luck, romantically speaking back in Madison. I was too weird for the humans and never really fit in with the witches either. So opportunities for boyfriends were rather thin on the ground for several years.”

Matthew raised his eyebrows in surprise. “What, none?” he asked, shocked. He’d never even considered she might be a virgin, not with the way she’d responded to him during their first date – she’d had none of the hesitation he normally associated with the sexually inexperienced.

Diana flushed, embarrassed. “I didn’t say that! I had one real boyfriend in high school, though it fizzled when I went off to college. And I dated a bit when I was at Harvard – at least once I wasn’t considered ‘jailbait’ anymore.” She made a face. “God, I hate that term. It got thrown at me at every off-campus party for two long years. They all knew my mom taught there and nobody was willing to touch me until I was at least eighteen, for fear of the consequences. Not that she would have cared.”

She frowned and sighed. “Anyway, I didn’t see anyone seriously while I was in Cambridge. I was too busy, so I tended to keep things casual – fellow athletes, working off steam. That kind of thing. I never fell in love with any of them.”

Matthew nodded, feeling both uncomfortable and relieved. On the one hand, he was a vampire – one with blood rage – and he was mating with her. It was natural for him to be possessive, unable to stand even the idea of her sleeping with someone other than him. Not that that’s the only reason I’m jealous, he reflected. He was raised in the sixth century and, even then, it had killed him to think about other men touching Diana in that manner.

On the other hand, he was even more uncomfortable with the idea of her never having had the chance to experience life, to know what she wanted before he came along. A relationship with a vampire could warp someone’s perspective in some nasty ways, he knew, especially if they were too young or particularly sheltered. Matthew didn’t want that for her. Nor did he want her to have any regrets. Past lovers is the better option, he told himself, even if it makes me want to howl in rage. It’s not like she loved any of them. A small voice prodded at a niggling doubt, however. Has she ever said she loved you, though?

Matthew bent in to nuzzle her neck, trying to soothe himself with the feeling of her in his arms. “Thank you for telling me,” he said, willing himself to keep his voice even. “And please, never feel awkward asking me about my past. I’ve told you before, to you alone I am an open book.”

Diana smiled and kissed him, acknowledging his words and the feelings behind them. “How about you? What are your plans for the holidays?” she asked, bringing them back to safer topics. “Will you be staying in Oxford and volunteering at the hospital?”

He shook his head. “No, I’d like to, but I’ll be flying home to France to spend the holiday with my mother,” he explained. And the rest of the god-forsaken family, should they deign to show up. He knew it was unlikely anyone except Marcus or Baldwin would put in an appearance, despite the standing invitation.

“Your mother?” Diana echoed, surprised.

Matthew nodded, eyes looking sad. “Ysabeau. She’s lived at the family home in France ever since my father died toward the end of World War II. She rarely leaves the estate.”

Diana reached over to squeeze his hand in support. “You mentioned him before – what happened to him?” she asked. “If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”

“I’ve just told you, I never mind your questions.” Matthew held her cheek in his hand, then kissed her. Diana hummed in satisfaction, enjoying the feeling of his hands and lips on her skin.

“And you deserve to know about my family,” he said with a light smile, before pausing and turning serious. “He was captured and sent to a Nazi labor camp toward the end of World War II. We’re not sure what he was doing in Poland or how they found him, but by the time we realized something was wrong, they’d already made him disappear.”

Matthew looked down, studying his hands before continuing. “We were too late. We found the room where they’d been keeping him. We’d been searching, having no luck, then suddenly the fog lifted, like they knew they didn’t have to hide from us anymore. He’d been held and tortured for five days, trying to drive him mad.”

Matthew’s face went hard, his voice angry. “Then a witch murdered him in cold blood using witchfire, his body incinerated in his cell, completely unrecognizable. We wouldn’t have even known it was him except the Nazis kept excellent records.”

Diana realized she must have made a sound because Matthew looked at her, eyes round and black. “We found records of every single thing they did to experiment on him – every medication they force fed him, every torture psychological or physical. Ysabeau hasn’t been able to look at a witch ever since without murder in her heart.”

“I’m so sorry,” Diana said, once she had found her voice.

Matthew shook his head. “It’s not your fault,” he sighed. It’s mine. I should have found him sooner, should have rallied every knight the Brotherhood commanded to find a way to bring him home. But I was convinced he’d survive after seeing Diana with his blood oath. It never even occurred to me that we wouldn’t get him back. “Ysabeau won’t hold it against you...but others in the family might,” he said with a wince. Diana looked pale at his words, clearly never considering she might be held responsible for this past tragedy.

“Nobody who’s met you in their pasts, like Ysabeau or Marcus, will blame you for Philippe’s death,” he said, trying to reassure her. “But some of his children were never fond of witches to begin with and after what happened to him...well, it wasn’t hard for them to jump from distrust to outright hatred.”

Matthew bent down to give her another kiss. “Luckily, their good opinion doesn’t matter in the slightest.”

“Well, that is lucky,” Diana said with a forced grin. She’s trying to be brave for me, he realized. She wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed Matthew with enough heat for him to all but forget their previous conversation. She moved onto his lap, straddling him between her legs, neither bothering to come up for air.

Fuck, he thought as one hand moved to grip her ass, the other sliding under her shirt. She’s trying to kill me.

He’d spent the past month practically in agony. The memory of Diana, breathless and shaking with desire, had been his near constant companion. He knew she wanted him – he could smell it on her whenever he got too close, touched her for too long. But he also wanted her to be sure. He knew he’d never forgive himself if he pushed things further and faster than she was really ready for. And I’m scared of what it might do to me, if I’m being completely honest with myself. So, he’d taken to relieving himself whenever the pressure of his cock against his trousers became too hard to ignore.

The other vampires could smell his desperation too. Marcus thought the whole situation was hilarious, especially after Matthew forced him to spend his second puberty on a ship in the middle of the Atlantic with nothing but his own hand for company. It had caused more than one argument when Matthew got fed up with Marcus’s barbs.

Miriam was annoyed at the disruption and had started begging him to just fuck Diana and get the whole thing over with. “You know where this is headed,” Miriam had pointed out, while they were working at the lab. “Why are you bothering with all this completely unnecessary navel-gazing? Do us all a favor and fuck her soon, before you explode in sexual frustration.”

“Matthew...god,” Diana moaned into his mouth, rubbing her chest against his. “You feel so good.” Christ, if she keeps talking like that, I’m going to end up fucking her right here on this too-small couch, despite my best efforts at controlling myself. She had him so hard, he was half-convinced he’d finish in his pants, still fully clothed.

“Please…” she whimpered, feeling his hand cup her breast. “Matthew, please…”

He couldn’t take it any longer. He stood up, her legs wrapped around his waist, and carried her into his bedroom. He set her down on the bed, kneeling between her legs, and started to peel the clothing from the bottom half of her body. She watched him kiss along the inside of her thigh, pupils blown wide. He closed his eyes, then took a long breath, savoring the scent of her arousal. “Dieu, you’re beautiful,” he breathed as he opened them again. “You have no idea what seeing you like this does to me.”

Matthew moved up her body, removing her shirt and bra, so she was completely naked underneath him. His cock felt like it was going to explode, yet he kept his own clothes on, knowing that if he removed them, he’d never manage to hold onto that last thread of control. Not with her so wet and willing in his bed. When he felt her hand on his erection, he almost decided he didn’t care...almost.

He growled and grabbed her wrist. “Not yet,” he said, though the words pained him. He kissed her again, hard, then took a breast into his mouth. Diana whimpered, words incomprehensible. His other hand – the one not pinning her wrist to the bed – reached down to touch between her thighs. Fuck, she was so damn wet. She writhed under him, begging for release, but he continued to deny her. He teased, fucking her with his fingers slowly, avoiding the sensitive bundle of nerves so swollen with need. Dieu, he loved the little noises she made.

“Oh god...I need you inside me. Please, Matthew,” she begged. Instead, he moved down and took her with his mouth, making her scream and begin to shake with release. He finally unzipped his trousers and took himself in hand, spilling hard as her thighs clamped around his head.

They sat like that for a minute, panting, trying to catch their breaths. Finally, Matthew looked up at her with a crooked smile on his face. Diana’s eyes had practically glazed over. “Fuck,” she said. “That was incredible.”

He kissed her stomach, then her lips, before agreeing with a grin. “It was.” He stroked her hair, playing with the tendrils framing her face. “God, what am I going to do without you for a whole month?”

Diana groaned. “I know. I don’t even have a phone in my room back in Madison. No privacy whatsoever,” she complained.

“Maybe I should get you a mobile phone?” Matthew asked. “That way you could call me if you get lonely and need a helping hand,” he suggested playfully. Fuck. He could picture her in bed, a phone in one hand, the other between her legs. He felt his cock begin to twitch in response.

Diana kissed him, smiling regretfully. “Much as I would enjoy that, the house is pretty rural. There’s probably no reception out there yet. You’d need to get the phone company to install a tower somewhere in the area first,” she joked.

“I might just have to do that,” he teased. I’d have done it already, if I’d been smarter, he thought to himself. I’ll make a call tomorrow. It’s not enough time for this trip, but I’ll be damned if I go a month ever again without hearing those noises from her.

He nuzzled into her neck, letting the smell of their intermingled scents and arousal wash over him as she began to drift off to sleep. I love you, he thought, closing his eyes. You have no idea how much.

Chapter Text

New College, Oxford
December 15, 1998

“Marcus said I’d find you here,” Matthew heard a familiar voice say from behind him. “I was hoping he was joking, though after the way you’ve been carrying on, I shouldn’t have been surprised.”

Matthew didn’t turn, instead choosing to continue watching the empty building where Diana’s rooms were, even though Diana herself – along with everyone else at the college – had gone home for the holidays. “Why are you here, Bertrand?” he asked impatiently. He didn’t like to admit just how difficult he was finding it to have her so far away – and the last thing he needed was his best friend giving him a hard time over it.

Bertrand didn’t answer, instead moving around him so they could face each other. “What are you doing, Matt?” Bertrand asked, a worried look on his face. “Do you have any reason to think she might be in danger? Is that why you’re watching her place while she’s away?”

Matthew gave a short, barking laugh. “What? Other than breaking the covenant by becoming involved with me? Not to mention all the entanglements and enemies I bring? That my family brings? That’s not sufficient to warrant some concern?” He dropped his eyes and shook his head. “I think it’s more than enough to make me worried for her safety.”

Bertrand sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose in audible frustration. “Christ, Matt. You can’t be here – you’ll attract the wrong kind of attention if anyone notices. And we need to have this talk somewhere private, anyway. So do I have to drag you away or will you come quietly?”

Matthew growled, low and menacing. “I’d like to see you try,” he said, hackles raised.

Bertrand simply rolled his eyes. “You don’t scare me, Matt, as you’re well aware. You’re fast and a dirty fighter, I’ll give you that, but you’re far too distracted to beat me right now and you know it,” he commented dryly. “So again – are you coming with me now or do I need to smack you around a bit first?”

It took a long moment, but the tension finally left Matthew’s body as he nodded. He followed Bertrand back to the car and got into the passenger seat as they drove away from New College, making Matthew’s blood howl with frustration and rage. “This car reeks of sex,” Bertrand commented once Matthew’s breathing had finally returned to normal. “Weren’t you two supposed to be at yoga last night?”

“We did go to yoga. I just didn’t drive her home right away,” Matthew admitted, feeling embarrassed.

“You have a perfectly good bed at the gatehouse,” Bertrand said, sounding more and more annoyed. “Why not go there instead of forcing the rest of us to smell your activities for weeks after?”

Matthew hung his head. “I didn’t mean for things to get as far as they have – not yet anyway. It was supposed to just be some kissing until we got to know each other better...but she made certain suggestions and I just couldn’t say no,” he admitted guiltily. “I’ve been avoiding bringing her back to the gatehouse – at least in college, I’m constantly reminded to behave myself by all the other faculty and students crammed in the rooms around us. But at the Old Lodge, with only Amira close? I have little enough control when I’m around her as it is...I wouldn’t be able to stop myself,” he confessed.

Bertrand looked at him, seeming genuinely confused. “And why does that matter? Any fool can sense just how badly she wants you, the smell in here alone tells me that. So why the wait?”

Matthew gave him a sour look. “You know she’s started visiting me in the past?”

Bertrand nodded. “Miriam told me. You knew this would happen eventually...so, what’s the problem?”

Matthew swallowed nervously. “I have so many secrets, I’ve done so many terrible things...what if she can’t love me when she knows what kind of monster I am?” he asked plaintively. “And even if she can, I don’t want to trap her. You know what relationships with vampires are like for warmbloods, you saw how hard it was for me to tear myself away tonight – and she wasn’t even in the goddamned building! Once we actually have sex, even if we’re not mated yet, it’s going to be a million times worse.” He wished they weren’t still in the car, so he could handle his rising anxiety by pacing or, better yet, hitting something.

He took a steadying breath, trying to calm down so he didn’t destroy his car. “The closer we get, the more trouble I have reassuring myself that she’s alright when I’m not there,” he finally explained. “She’s so vulnerable and unprotected, Bertrand. The Diana I know from my past – she’s so powerful. I never imagined that when I found her that she wouldn’t be able to defend herself. And it terrifies me.”

Bertrand laughed, making Matthew furious. “Oh, Matt...you’ve seen enough of her future, you know she’ll be okay and that she’ll still love you, despite your many sins. So what is this really about?”

Matthew didn’t answer, instead staring out the window in a show of defiance. Useless, probably. He’ll almost certainly drag it out of me at some point, Matthew realized, but he was unable to make himself confide in his friend.

“Fine, don’t tell me,” Bertrand said calmly. “Maybe instead we can talk about your behavior toward Marcus over the last few weeks. You really owe the boy an apology.”

Matthew bristled. “What for? I know I’ve been a bit short tempered –”

“You called your own son a degenerate!” Bertrand said, cutting him off. “It was totally unfair and thoroughly uncalled for.”

Matthew gave a low growl. “I didn’t like the way he was talking about Diana.”

Bertrand rolled his eyes. “He gave you suggestions for how to court her! After you asked for his advice, I want to remind you.”

“They were completely unsuitable,” Matthew muttered sulkily.

Bertrand barked a laugh, shaking his head. “By the smell of you and this car, you’ve taken things plenty far on your own, so don’t blame Marcus for trying to help. His ideas may not have been appropriate for the sixth century, but they weren’t nearly as shocking as you made them out to be.”

“And how would you know?” Matthew snarled. “Besides, you declined when I went to you for help.”

Bertrand laughed again. “Do you think I’m stupid? I want nowhere near your love life –”

“All appearances to the contrary,” Matthew cut in.

Bertrand didn’t skip a beat, ignoring Matthew’s barb. “Anyway, Miriam’s become obsessed with some new American television show called Sex and the City – you should just be glad Diana isn’t like any of those women, by the way – and it’s provided some excellent insights into modern culture. I can’t say I’m fond of the infernal device, but it’s good for a few things at least.”

This earned him a wince from Matthew. They’d both been forced to sit through every episode of the BBC’s Pride and Prejudice adaptation a few years ago when Marcus, the traitor, had told Miriam about it. Matthew wasn’t fond of Regency-era romances – they reminded him of Juliette, which was a period of his life he’d rather forget – but he hadn’t wanted to disappoint Miriam or leave his best friend to suffer through his wife’s unfortunate obsession alone. So they’d endured all six hours together on the condition that they’d never have to see it again.

Matthew sighed in resignation. “You’re right – I’ve been an uptight ass,” he finally admitted. "I’ll apologize to Marcus.”

“Good,” Bertrand said simply, letting the conversation lapse into silence.

“Where are we even going?” Matthew asked after a few minutes. “We’re nowhere near the Old Lodge.”

“Scotland. I’m taking you hunting. Hamish is meeting us there – it’ll be a good, old-fashioned British deer stalking weekend, circa 1920. Well, except for the gillie, that is,” Bertrand replied evenly, despite Matthew’s loud protestations. “You need to get out of Oxford for a few days...to clear your head, regain your perspective. It’s not healthy, Matt, the way you’ve been obsessing over her every move.”

This earned him a growl. “I’ll bring you back as soon as I think you’re fit to reenter polite society. Or I’ll send you home to Ysabeau, I know she probably wants you there for Christmas. If you’re nice enough, I might even come and bring Miriam with me. But you need some time to get your head on straight – you’ll drive away all your friends and family if you continue on as you’ve been.”

Matthew stared long and hard at his friend before resigning himself to the trip with a long, exasperated sigh. “Fine,” he huffed. “But I want Miriam or Marcus keeping an eye on Diana’s rooms while I’m gone. I dislike the idea of leaving them unprotected while I’m so far away.”

Bertrand chuckled. “Don’t worry, it’s already been arranged. And she’ll be back from the States before you know it.” I doubt it, Matthew thought darkly.

Cadzow Lodge, Scotland

“I still don’t know what Hamish was thinking,” Matthew groused as they pulled up to the property. The daemon had bought it the previous year with a hefty bonus from his very grateful firm – as a rising star, he’d earned a nice promotion and had celebrated with possibly the most impractical house Matthew had ever seen. It had been in a state of severe disrepair and Hamish had been spending a fortune getting it fit again for habitation.

“Be nice,” Bertrand admonished with a frown. “Please don’t start the trip by alienating Hamish. If he kicks us out, I’ll never let you forget it.”

Matthew huffed, but stayed silent. Hamish greeted them warmly at the front door and showed them up to their rooms – not that either vampire would need to sleep while they were there. Over drinks in the billiards room, then a casual dinner in the kitchen, Hamish regaled them with stories of the restorations going on at the estate. Once several bottles of wine had been consumed, the three men retired to the library to play chess and talk.

“I was surprised to get Bertrand’s call,” Hamish remarked casually as he studied the board. “You’ve been practically radio silent the last several weeks. Are things not going well with Diana?”

Matthew started to quietly growl, which earned him a smack and an eye roll from Bertrand. “She went back to the States early this morning and he’s been impossible ever since,” he explained with a warning glance at the other vampire.

“I’m surprised you let her go without you,” Hamish commented, frowning slightly.

“Because having a vampire follow her home for the holidays was likely to ingratiate me to her family,” Matthew muttered unhappily. “Besides, I wasn’t invited.”

Bertrand barked a laugh. “Is that what’s been bothering you? That she didn’t ask you to join her for Christmas? Bloody hell, Matt.”

“No, not really,” he said, looking away in embarrassment. “But it certainly didn’t help matters.”

“So, what is it, then?” Hamish asked patiently.

Matthew sighed in resignation. “There’s something...wrong about the whole situation with Diana,” he said, trying to find the right words to explain his frankly inexplicable feelings. “I can practically smell it. But I can’t seem to get a handle on what it might be, which has been feeding all my fears and insecurities...I’m finding it hard to maintain any sort of objectivity.”

Hamish frowned. “When you say ‘wrong,’ what exactly do you mean?” he asked, voice tinged with concern. “You’re not worried she might using you somehow, are you?”

Matthew shook his head violently. “Christ, no. Nothing like that.” He ran his hand through his hair in an unconscious sign of distress. “

“So tell us what’s got you so bothered, beyond your baseless fears about losing her,” Bertrand coaxed. “Maybe we can help.”

“Losing her?” Hamish asked, bewildered.

Bertrand gave his friend a hard look before answering the daemon. “Matt here doesn’t think he’s worth loving,” he explained with a roll of his eyes. “He’s terrified she’ll leave once she actually gets to know him, despite having plenty of evidence to the contrary. But apparently that’s not the only thing worrying him, though it’s more than enough to keep him so on edge that Miriam has threatened to banish him from the lab.”

Matthew hesitated for a minute before speaking. “I don’t understand how she’s as ignorant about her magic as she is,” he admitted carefully, feeling both frustrated at Bertrand’s interference and relieved to finally be able to give voice to all the strangeness he’s been sensing. “The Diana I knew hasn’t ever shied away from magic, but this Diana...she’s got it all bottled up inside. And she refuses to talk about it.”

Bertrand nodded absently. “I can see how that might concern you,” he said after a moment, clearly considering each word carefully. “But surely she must learn how to wield her power eventually. There’s something else you’re worried about – this isn’t just Diana and the mystery about her magic.”

Matthew shook his head. “No,” he confessed. “There’s something off about Diana’s relationship to her mother too. Everything she’s said on the subject makes perfect sense – except that it paints a picture of Rebecca Bishop that’s entirely contrary to everything I’ve heard about the woman and that family over the years.”

To Matthew’s surprise, Hamish visibly shuddered at his mention of the witch. “What?” he asked when the daemon failed to explain his strange reaction. “Have you met her?”

“No,” he said, looking worried. “But if half the stories I’ve heard are true, then I don’t envy you when she finds out you’ve been shagging her daughter.”

“We haven’t been!” Matthew protested hotly.

“And whyever not?” Hamish asked, sounding genuinely confused. “What’s stopping you?”

“I am not having this conversation again,” Matthew snarled.

Bertrand rolled his eyes. “It’s more of Matt’s self-flagellating nonsense,” he explained, sounding as annoyed as his wife had when Matthew had last encountered her at the lab.

Hamish nodded knowingly – making Matthew’s blood boil in the process – but thankfully decided to drop the topic. “But seriously – Rebecca Bishop is majorly scary,” the daemon commented soberly. “So why haven’t we had to scrape you off of the floor yet? I’m assuming that’s what’s coming at some point, given her reputation.”

“Possibly...okay, probably,” Matthew amended when Hamish shot him a look.

Hamish shook his head, frowning slightly. “It’s been months since you started spending time with her daughter – what is she waiting for?”

Matthew sighed. “I don’t think Diana’s spoken with her mother since before we met – the woman’s been in Africa doing field research since the summer,” he explained. “Hell, Diana’s barely spoken to her aunts, despite their frequent calls – she’s hardly about to go chasing her mother down to share that she’s been dating a vampire in defiance of nearly a millennium of tradition and law.”

“They don’t talk much, then?” Bertrand asked, surprised.

Matthew shook his head. “They’re not close...they haven’t been, according to Diana, since her father died.” He paused, considering how much to tell his friends, then sighed. Might as well just share all my concerns now. They’ll drag them out of me one by one, if I don’t. “Do either of you remember anything about that?”

“I was too young at the time,” Hamish commented, looking thoughtful. “And I don’t remember hearing much about it after the fact, which is surprising, considering who was involved. Tragedies like that in families like theirs tend to have far reaching consequences, ones that are hard to cover up or ignore.”

“I don’t remember much about it either,” Bertrand said, looking carefully at his friend. “Why? Do you want us to dig into it?”

Matthew considered the question before shaking his head. “No, not yet. I don’t want to get the Brotherhood officially involved and you’d need those resources to make any headway on investigating a fifteen year old mysterious death, especially one that occurred on an entirely different continent. The last thing I need is Baldwin or the Congregation catching wind of my interest – or my relationship with Diana.”

Bertrand nodded his agreement. “Your brother is a veritable bloodhound,” he said with a grimace. “He’d almost certainly notice if we started poking around.”

“Besides,” Matthew continued with a grimace of his own, “I’m not exactly keen to attract Rebecca Bishop’s attention prematurely. But there’s something fishy about the whole incident...too much about Diana’s life shifted around that time – more than can reasonably be explained by the death of a parent, no matter how painful.”

Bertrand gave his friend an appraising look. “Have you told Diana about your suspicions?”

“No,” Matthew admitted with a wince. “She likes discussing her parents even less than she likes talking about her magic. I’m trying to get to know her...trying to let things progress naturally between us. That won’t be possible if I poke and prod at her sore spots.”

Bertrand clucked disapprovingly at him. “You won’t be able to put any of this off for long...the magic, her family, the Congregation – it’s all going to come to a head eventually. And probably sooner, rather than later.”

“I know,” Matthew said, putting his head in his hands. “But we’re not there yet. Why can’t we just leave it for now?”

“Fine,” Bertrand said, shaking his head ruefully. “But I think you’ll regret it when everything you’re avoiding comes back to bite you in the ass all at once.”

Probably, Matthew thought with an exasperated sigh. But what else can I do about it?

Chapter Text

Saint-Lucien, France
Spring, 517

I think I need to start sleeping in actual clothes, Diana reflected. She’d been reading up in her attic room in Madison, trying to fight her jetlag, when she suddenly found herself somewhere and somewhen else. She had just decided to get ready for bed too, so it was only through a major stroke of luck that she wasn’t standing outdoors in the cool spring air in nothing but a pair of underwear and an oversized t-shirt.

Diana looked around, taking in her surroundings. She’d landed near some trees and what looked like an abandoned temple in a beautiful piece of countryside. She could see a medieval fortress nearby with a small village alongside it, but there were no signs of modernity as far as the eye could see. Wisps of chimney smoke floated in the air above some of the buildings and birds chirped overhead. Wherever I am, she thought, it’s beautiful.

She heard a rustling in the trees to her right and turned to see a teenage boy, perhaps five or six years her junior, with thick black hair and beautiful green-gray eyes staring at her. Matthew? Is this human my Matthew? He was several inches shorter than the Matthew she knew and his features were subtly different – a little less refined, perhaps – but still heart-achingly handsome.

The young man broke into a grin and raced up to her, wrapping her into a warm embrace. Both literally and physically warm, she realized with a jolt. I’m so used to him as a vampire, I didn’t realize what it would be like to touch him as a human. “Diana!” he exclaimed excitedly. “I haven’t seen you for ages. Where have you been?”

“School mostly,” she said with a laugh. His enthusiasm was infectious. Well, this is one way to deal with jetlag, she realized. The excitement of the unexpected jump and seeing Matthew had completely erased all the exhaustion she’d been feeling before she’d magically found herself in the French countryside.

This caused him to frown. “School? But girls don’t go to school,” he protested, looking confused. “And you’re an adult – far too old for the classroom. Most women your age I know are married and caring for children of their own.”

Crap. He did warn me to be careful what I revealed. “Maybe I teach school, hm?” she teased. “And besides, the time I’m from has plenty of female scholars and teachers, for your information.”

“So you are a time spinner?” he asked, imagination clearly sparked by her accidental revelations.

Diana nodded solemnly. “That’s right,” she confirmed carefully, trying to limit any damage the information might cause.

“You told me that once, but I was convinced you were the goddess...or perhaps an angel,” he said with a small flush of embarrassment. He gestured to the temple nearby. “We were just over there and it seemed too great a coincidence for you to be anyone but the goddess, considering where we were standing. And how beautiful you were.” He smiled shyly at her, looking nervous but hopeful, when she didn’t respond immediately. I need to find a way to explain that he shouldn’t tell me about my future trips, she realized. Or else things are going to end up all tangled. But how? She was at a loss to figure out what to say, especially considering her limited Latin and her nearly non-existent Occitan.

He got a mischievous look on his face before she could decide, then started to grin. “Come this way!” he said, grabbing Diana by the hand and dragging her off towards the woods. “I’m supposed to be back to help my father soon. Once he realizes I’m late getting home, he’ll come out looking for me. He knows I like to spend time near here, though I’ve never told him why exactly, and I don’t want him to find us.”

They ran together a ways – laughing and holding hands – past several stands of trees, only stopping once they were far enough away that they wouldn’t easily be found. They could see the temple in the distance, but the village and fortress were hidden from view. He sat down in the grass, shaded by a beautiful old oak tree, branches gnarled with age. He motioned for her to sit next to him as he stretched out on his back.

“Will you tell me about the time you’re from?” he asked her tentatively. He picked up a few long strands of grass and began weaving them together as he waited nervously for her to share further. I guess he’s always been inquisitive, she realized. The seeds of the Matthew she’d come to know in Oxford were clearly there from the beginning – before his rebirth and life as a vampire. And good with his hands, though he did tell me he’d been a carpenter.

Diana smiled wistfully at him, then shook her head. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t. It could...well, disrupt things. Mess up your life.” And mine, if I share too much.

“What if I don’t care?” His eyes had gone completely round with earnestness at the question. “What if I like the disruptions? And want more of them?” He reached over to touch her hand.

Oh Matthew, Diana thought with a sigh. “Trust me, I wish I could,” she finally said. She looked at his hand, then took his fingers in hers, squeezing apologetically.

Like the rest of his appearance, his hands were familiar, but with subtle differences. The Matthew in her present was an academic and had vampire-toughened skin, which was always smooth and cool to the touch. This Matthew...well, his hands were rougher, with nicks and cuts – a consequence of his training as a carpenter. They were still strong, but in a way that spoke of muscles developed from labor, rather than the steel of vampire flesh. And still beautiful, no matter what had changed in the intervening centuries. She let out a sigh. I do love his hands.

He looked down, studying her hand in turn – its ink stains and calluses mirroring her strange appearance – then placed a kiss on her knuckles. She felt warm lips...warm, human lips...against her skin and inhaled a startled breath. “I’m sorry,” he started to stammer.

Diana shook her head. “It’s alright,” she blushed. “I just wasn’t expecting -” she started to say as she felt his mouth crush against hers. His lips were warm and urgent and clearly inexperienced, but Diana didn’t pull away for all her shock. His hands came up to cup her face and she leaned into the kiss, enjoying the feeling of this Matthew’s body against hers – all eager excitement and none of the cool refinement or teasing of the Matthew she’d come to know in her present. His hands wandered, as if unsure of what to do or where to touch, before settling chastely around her waist.

When he finally pulled away, her head was spinning and her lips felt bruised. “Matthew,” she gasped, heart pounding in her throat. She could feel him hard against her hip and his face was flushed with arousal. He smiled at her, as bright as the sun, and opened his mouth to speak, but instead of hearing his voice, she felt herself falling.

The next thing she knew, she was back in her room in Madison. Her head was spinning, a mixture of desire and confusion warring within her. I can’t believe I have to wait a whole month until I can go back to Oxford, she groaned to herself. You’ll see him again soon enough, have patience.

Chapter Text

Madison, New York
December 16, 1998

“Sorry, what?” Diana asked. “I didn’t catch that.”

“I asked what time Chris is planning on arriving tomorrow,” said Em. She was looking at Diana with a worried expression on her face. “Are you sure you’re okay, sweetie? You’ve seemed awfully distracted since you arrived yesterday.”

“I’m fine,” Diana insisted. “Just a bit jet lagged.” Among other things, she thought to herself.

Sarah snorted derisively. “She’s thinking about that vampire. The jet lag is just an excuse. And don’t think we didn’t notice you disappear from your room last night. I thought we told you not to try timewalking on your own.”

Diana rolled her eyes. She knew she couldn’t lie to her aunts – not even even the ‘technically true, just misleading’ statements that might work with other witches. They knew her too well. “He has a name you know. It’s Matthew and I’d appreciate it if you’d use it and stop calling him ‘that vampire.’” Sarah snorted again. For the love of...ugh! Why can’t she just mind her own business? Diana wondered. Though maybe if I answer her questions about Matthew, they’ll drop the whole timewalking conversation. I’m not sure I’m ready for that just yet.

“Yes, fine, my mind’s been on Matthew. It’s strange knowing I won’t see him for the better part of a month. But I am jet lagged too, thank you very much, Sarah,” she said with a pointed look.

Sarah refused to be deterred. “You’ve been spending too much time with him. It’s not safe.” She went over to the coffee pot and refilled her cup for the third time so far that morning. Clearly, she still has no idea Em doctors it with decaf, Diana realized with a tiny snort of her own. Her aunts’ war over Sarah’s health and habits had been going on for years and it was easier to find amusement in it when she wasn’t living with them full time anymore.

Sarah gave her a strange look, then continued her diatribe. “Even if you’ve deluded yourself into thinking he’s not dangerous – which is preposterous, by the way – you’re going to be in a world of hurt once the Congregation gets wind of your relationship.”

Diana groaned internally and took another sip of her tea. It is far too early to be having this conversation. “Matthew isn’t going to hurt me.”

Sarah scoffed audibly, making Diana furious. “You don’t even know him!” Diana insisted hotly. “Do you know how we spent Halloween? We got dressed up and volunteered for an event at the hospital he works at. He does it every year. The kids in the Paediatric ICU can’t go trick-or-treating, so some of the staff bring candy to the families in their rooms.”

Sarah continued to look skeptical, making Diana even angrier. “Why is it so hard for you to believe that a vampire might be a good person?” she demanded, voice almost shaking with rage. “I’ve never seen him so much as hurt a fly. He’s brilliant and kind and interesting. And I can’t believe you, of all people, would act like a bigot about my relationship.”

Em inserted herself between the two furious witches. “Sarah’s just worried about you, Diana,” she said, trying to calm the situation. “Vampires have a lot of secrets and some are unscrupulous, especially where a witch’s power is concerned. We just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“You haven’t let him bite you, have you?” Sarah pressed.

The fucking nerve! “Not that it’s any of your business, but no,” Diana said, blood boiling at the question. “Of course not. He’s never asked – or even given any indication that he’d want to.”

Sarah gave a grim little laugh that did nothing to cool Diana’s temper. “They all want to, especially where a witch’s blood is concerned. And don’t look at me like that,” she snapped. “Even if you’ve found the goddamned Mother Theresa of vampires, that’s not going to prevent the Congregation from punishing the both of you once they find out about your relationship. If he really cared about you, he wouldn’t put you in that kind of danger.”

“I’m sorry Sarah, but how many vampires have you met? Spent time with? Gotten to know?” Diana asked. She narrowed her eyes, nostrils flaring in anger.

“How would you know anything about what they’re actually like, beyond the kind of bigoted stereotypes you hear from other witches?” she demanded, still looking absolutely furious. “And I don’t give two shits about the Congregation or what they think of my relationship with Matthew. They don’t get to tell me who I can love.”

Sarah was stunned into silence. Well, that’s one way to shut her up. I just wish I didn’t have to bare my soul to manage it, Diana sighed internally.

Em looked stricken. “You can’t put yourself in danger that way. What about your mom, what about us? We couldn’t bear to have something happen to you,” she pleaded.

Sarah shook her head. “Rebecca did the exact same thing,” she croaked.

Diana’s head whipped back to Sarah. “What about Mom? What are you talking about?” she asked.

Sarah sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Your mother walked straight into Stephen’s arms, even though people said it was a bad idea for two witches of their talents to be together. And you know how pig-headed she’s been about her research, even after your father’s death,” she finally explained. “You’re not the only one who’s been begging her to stay out of Nigeria for the last fifteen years. She’s refused to listen to any of us.”

They never told me any of this. Why have they spent all this time making me feel like I’m the irrational one for being angry at Mom when they’ve been having the exact same goddamn argument with her behind my back? Diana thought furiously.

“All the more reason for Diana to listen now,” Em insisted plaintively. “You’re so young and you haven’t known him all that long. You’ve only been together, what, a few weeks? End it, see if you can move on and forget about him.”

Diana’s heart hammered in her throat. Not Em, she thought bitterly. I thought that even if Sarah couldn’t accept us, that Em at least would understand. “Forget about him? This isn’t some schoolgirl crush. I’ve never felt this way about anyone,” she said, voice still hot with anger. She took a breath, closed her eyes, then opened them again, trying to calm down. I might as well tell them. It’s probably the only way to make them actually accept what he means to me. “I...I started timewalking again. Accidentally. That’s where I was last night, I didn’t mean to go anywhere...it just happened.”

Em and Sarah both stared at her, shock transforming into worry. “It’s mostly just been short hops, but I’ve jumped outside my own lifetime a few times now. The first time, I ended up in Cambridge in 1970 and ran into Daddy. I was completely unprepared,” she admitted with a bitter laugh. “I’m lucky he spotted me and explained things, I thought I was going crazy. The second time, I found myself visiting Matthew in the middle of the goddamned American Revolution! And yesterday I saw him as a teenager – back when he was still human. That’s well over a thousand years ago.” They don’t need to know precisely how much over, she reminded herself silently.

Diana shook her head. “Do you know what Daddy told me?” she asked her stunned aunts. “He said this kind of accidental jump only happens with people who are important to you, only with family.” Her eyes had started to tear up. “So stop saying things like that. There’s no turning back for me, not anymore.”

“Leave her alone, Em,” Sarah said. It was Diana’s turn to be stunned. “We’ve had enough of that talk in this family. I didn’t forget about you and she’s not going to forget about that vampire.” She let out an explosive breath. “Sorry, Diana,” she said, glancing at Diana, before turning again to face Em. “She’s not going to forget about Matthew.”

Em closed her eyes, hand across her eyes and forehead and clearly feeling overwhelmed. “And what does Matthew say about this? I imagine he’s bound to run into some opposition of his own.”

“I haven’t told him how I feel yet,” Diana admitted, examining her fingers to avoid looking at her aunts.

After a moment, Sarah spoke, breaking the awkward silence. “Why not? What are you waiting for?”

Diana sighed. “I don’t want to pressure him into anything. He’s kind of old fashioned – we haven’t even slept together yet! I just wanted to give it a chance to develop a bit more before I said anything.”

“And you’re scared,” Sarah guessed.

Diana nodded, sighing. “It feels so natural...spending time together, I mean. But sometimes what I feel for him scares me a bit. What if he doesn’t feel the same way? Or even if he does, what if it’s only because I’ve basically conditioned him to want to spend time with me? It’s not like he’s ever had any choice. I just pop in.”

Sarah reached out and took Diana’s hand. “It’ll be ok.” She went over to a cabinet and got out a bottle of bourbon. “But I don’t think coffee alone’s going to do it this morning.” She poured a shot into her cup, hot coffee making the whiskey fumes rise.

“Want some?” Sarah asked Diana, motioning to her cup of tea. “I think this calls for a drink.”

“Please,” Diana said, holding out her mug. Em threw up her hands and left the room. Whiskey before noon? We’re lucky if we’re allowed to eat anything unhealthy for the rest of my trip, Diana thought with a low sigh. But Sarah’s right, we both needed it after that conversation.

October 23, 1999

The next morning, rather than waking up in her tiny bed in the attic room she grew up in, Diana found herself standing at the edge of the treeline on the far side of the yard looking back at the house. Am I dreaming? she wondered, turning around and seeing trees with brilliant red and gold leaves – when she’d arrived home the day before, the branches had all been bare and lifeless.

She stood motionless watching the house, her bare feet cold on the chilly ground as the sun started to rise in the sky. A woman, blond and familiar – Mom? – appeared, speaking with a tall, dark figure she recognized as Matthew. Diana wanted to call out to them, but froze as she felt a cold gaze on her back. She whirled around to face the other vampire only to be back in the attic.

It must have been a dream, she decided, shaking her head. Or perhaps a nightmare? she thought with a shiver. She couldn’t begin to imagine Matthew and her mom sitting down for a friendly chat. As she started getting ready, excited to see Chris later that day, she never noticed the small red leaf that fell out of her hair and under the bed, hidden from casual view. As she went downstairs, however, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something had been very, very wrong. But what?

December 17, 1998

“So, when were you going to tell me about your new boyfriend?” Chris asked as he and Diana sat in the living room, stringing popcorn into garlands.

Diana dropped her end, spilling pieces on the floor. “Chris!” she exclaimed, then swore.

“What? Are you going to deny it, then?” he asked, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“...No,” she admitted, blushing furiously. “How did you find out?”

“Em may have mentioned something when we were settling the plans for the holiday.” Chris paused, looking at her. “She wasn’t entirely sure you’d show up. And something about the guy has her worried. So spill.”

Damn, how am I supposed to explain that my witch aunts don’t like my vampire boyfriend to a human of all people who doesn’t know that creatures like us exist? “Fine.” Diana glared at him briefly before sighing. “His name is Matthew and I met him outside the Bodleian in Oxford. They don’t like him because, well, he’s a bit...older than I am.”

Chris didn’t look convinced. “How much older?” he asked, sounding worried. “He’s not one of your professors, is he?”

“No, god no. Nothing like that,” she protested. “He’s in his thirties. And while he’s technically on the faculty, he’s a researcher mostly and doesn’t work with students.”

“What’s his field? Is he a historian, like you?” Chris asked, looking intrigued.

Diana laughed internally. You don’t have to study history when you’ve lived it. “Actually, he’s a scientist: primarily genetics and chemistry, from what I understand. I’ll admit, a lot of it – well, most of it, really – is way over my head,” she said with a short laugh.

“A handsome scientist! Just what you need,” Chris said with a laugh. “So what’s his name? Maybe I’m familiar with his work.” He was definitely looking interested now.

“Dr. Matthew Clairmont – he’s got a medical license as well as a doctorate and he just had an article published as a precursor to some paper he’ll be presenting next term. Something about wolves? Their behaviors and genetics, at any rate. He spent most of the last couple of years in Norway doing field research...” Diana petered out, realizing she’d been rambling. Chris was gaping at her.

“Matthew. Clairmont.” He shook his head. “Your new boyfriend is Matthew fucking Clairmont.” He laughed ruefully. “You finally start seeing someone seriously and it’s that guy?”

Diana was taken aback. “What, do you know him?” she asked. Matthew didn’t say anything about already knowing Chris when we talked at the end of term.

Chris seemed to find the question hilarious. He cracked up and wouldn’t stop laughing. “Do I know him? Fuck no. I don’t think you could find all that many people who could claim that, despite him being a fucking rockstar in the field – he’s kind of a hermit. But I sure as hell know of him. And you’re not wrong, he definitely doesn’t take students. I’d have given my right arm to get a chance at working in his lab.”

Oh, Diana thought to herself, unable to figure out how to respond.

His laughing just got harder when he saw the look on Diana’s face. “That article you mentioned? The wolves? People are talking about him like he’s the next David fucking Attenborough.”

“Oh,” Diana finally said. “I didn’t realize…”

“You didn’t realize your boyfriend is a genius? I mean, you’re brilliant too, so I guess it’s not surprising, but damn Diana. We’re talking potential Nobel Prize winner levels of genius here.” Chris got up and headed for the kitchen. “I need a beer. Did you want one?” he asked her.

She shook her head and he left the room, chortling. “Matthew Clairmont, of course it is,” she heard him say to himself. Well, at least he doesn’t hate Matthew on principle, like Em and Sarah. I’ll take any win I can get this trip, she reflected as he returned, bottle in hand.

“So, are we going to finish making these decorations? Or can I continue grilling you on your boyfriend?” Chris asked.

“Decorations, definitely,” Diana said with a laugh. “We can talk about Matthew later. Right now, I want to hear all the latest gossip from Harvard.”

Chapter Text

Sept-Tours, France
December 24, 1998

Matthew hated to admit it, but Bertrand had been right to pull him away from Oxford once Diana had gone home. The long weekend up in Scotland with his two best friends had given him some sorely needed perspective and had helped him unwind. He still ached with Diana’s absence – it took every ounce of self-control he possessed not to head to the airport and show up on her doorstep without even a phone call to warn her – but he was now far less likely to bite someone’s head off without sufficient provocation.

Ysabeau had greeted him warmly when he arrived, which made him feel guilty about how little he’d seen her over the past two years. Between his work in Norway and then finding Diana, he’d been so preoccupied, he hadn’t realized what his prolonged absence might do to his mother. I need to be better about visiting, even when she’s not reminding me to come home, he thought ruefully. With Philippe gone, she needs me to check in more regularly. It must get so lonely here with just her and Marthe.

True to his word, Bertrand had turned up with Marcus and Miriam the day before, making the chateau a far merrier place than it had been in more than five decades. Marcus had always been one of Ysabeau’s favorites – his charm and enthusiasm were often infectious – and his presence made her laugh and smile in a way that made Matthew’s heart sing.

Matthew had panicked momentarily when they arrived thinking that Diana’s rooms were unguarded, but Bertrand had quickly reassured him that Jason would keep an eye on things, which had thankfully calmed him again. Jason might not know who Diana was – his loose association with the de Clermont family hadn’t brought him into contact with her before – but Matthew knew that he respected his father enough to do this favor without asking too many questions. No matter how curious he might be.

That calm didn’t last long, however – shortly after Marcus’s arrival, Baldwin decided to make an appearance, putting everyone else on edge. Unfortunately for all present, he thoroughly enjoyed being a perennial thorn in Matthew’s side. He knew just how to get under his brother’s skin and he loved reminding Ysabeau’s branch of the family just who ruled Sept-Tours – no matter who the building belonged to in name. Even Bertrand, as good natured and laid back as any of Matthew’s friends, was starting to get annoyed with the constant barbs flying from both directions.

Baldwin also had the inconvenient knack for showing up when he was least wanted – like now. His presence had put an end to all discussions about Diana in the house at Matthew’s panicked insistence. The last thing I need is Baldwin’s interference in our relationship. I'd end up having to guard her round the clock once he caught wind of her existence and what she means to me, he thought with a shudder. Baldwin’s hatred for witches after Philippe’s death – not to mention his long standing dislike of Matthew – made Matthew more than a little worried for her safety, especially if their forbidden romance brought Congregation attention into the family’s affairs. It would be Jerusalem all over again. I can’t let that happen.

It was just before midnight when Marthe turned on the old record player, all vampires in the house lounging comfortably with glasses of either wine or blood in their hands. Bertrand immediately asked Miriam to dance and Marcus followed suit with his grandmother. This left Matthew and Baldwin sitting next to each other for the first time that evening without a buffer to keep things civil.

“So, how are things in Oxford, Matthew?” Baldwin asked perfunctorily. “Still working on your little research project?”

Don’t antagonize him, Matthew reminded himself. It’s not worth it. He might actually come to Oxford, if given enough cause. And then where would you be? “Just published, actually. I’m due to present the findings at a conference in February. There’s talk that I might be elected to the Royal Society on the strength of the work. How is everything in New York? Or are you in Berlin these days?” he asked as amiably as he could manage.

Baldwin made an ambivalent gesture. “I’m still splitting time between the two, though I may need to start adding either Geneva or London to the mix. We’ve been getting a lot of deals from investment groups in both cities and we could benefit from greater ties. Why do you ask? Finally thinking of forsaking academia in favor of some real work outside the ivory tower?”

Matthew snorted. Why does he have to be such a goddamn bastard all the time? “Hardly,” he bit out, struggling to keep his tone civil. “Just trying to be friendly.”

Baldwin rolled his eyes. “You’ve been unusually touchy since I got here. You sure there’s nothing going on?”

“I’m fine,” Matthew snapped, avoiding his brother’s gaze by watching his mother and son dance nearby. Or I will be once I’m no longer forced to pretend that I’m not constantly tempted to rip your throat out.

“You’re a terrible liar, Matthew,” Baldwin said chidingly, glancing at the dancers before refocusing on his brother. “Just promise me I won’t get called in front of the Congregation to answer for your antics. One such occurrence is enough to last a lifetime, even one as long as mine.”

Matthew took a breath, ready to argue, when the song finished and Marcus interrupted them. “Could I get a private word upstairs?” he asked, looking pointedly at his father. Matthew nodded once, then followed his son up to his tower in clear retreat.

“Are you okay?” Marcus asked quietly, once they were alone and out of earshot. “You looked like you were about to take Baldwin’s head off down there.”

Matthew nodded, still agitated. “I’ve been trying to avoid him whenever possible and make nice when I can’t, but he can tell something’s going on and he’s trying to provoke it out of me. He’s like a goddamned bloodhound,” Matthew hissed, trying to keep his voice down.

“Why don’t you call her and wish her a Merry Christmas,” Marcus suggested. “I can distract Baldwin downstairs long enough for you two to speak. Would that help?”

Christ, would it ever. These have been the longest nine days of my life, knowing where she is and not being able to even talk to her. “Thank you,” Matthew said simply, voice cracking slightly with suppressed emotion.

Marcus nodded once, then turned to exit the tower, but Matthew stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm. “I am sorry, Marcus,” he admitted before his son could leave his office. “For my behavior in Oxford. You didn’t deserve what I said or how I’ve been acting. It’s been...well, an adjustment is probably the nicest way to put it...and I haven’t yet found my equilibrium.”

Marcus gave him a bright, breezy smile that lit up his whole face. “I know. She’s good for you, I think. Even if you are struggling at the moment,” he teased, a cocky half-grin spreading across his face as he stepped toward the door. “I’ll be downstairs keeping Baldwin off your tail. Tell her I say hi.”

After a minute, waiting to hear if anyone else approached his tower, Matthew finally relaxed and pulled out his mobile phone to call Diana. He knew they wouldn’t have any privacy – at least on her end – but it was worth it for a chance to hear her voice.

An unfamiliar female voice picked up on the second ring. “Hello?” the woman asked, sounding puzzled.

Matthew cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice from betraying his nerves. “Is Diana available?”

The voice on the other end of the line snorted. “You must be the vampire,” she said, sounding annoyed.

He swallowed. Not going well so far, he thought with a grimace. Though at least she didn’t hang up on me once she realized who was calling. “Yes, my name is Matthew Clairmont. And you’re Diana’s aunt? It’s nice to meet you, so to speak.”

“Sarah Bishop,” she said, introducing herself, but not reciprocating his pleasantries. “Let me go grab her – we were all watching a movie together.”

“I apologize, I didn’t mean to interrupt –” he started to say before realizing there was no one else on the other end of the line.

“Diana!” he heard shouted in the background. “Phone!”

It didn’t take long for the familiar sound of Diana’s breathing and heartbeat to register, making him relax into his armchair. “Hello?” she asked, sounding hesitant.

“Diana,” he said, smiling broadly even though she couldn’t see him. “I’ve missed you.”

“Matthew,” she breathed, sounding just as relieved as he felt. “I’ve missed you too. Merry Christmas. How are things with your family?”

“Merry Christmas,” he replied, joy filling his heart at finally being able to hear her voice again. “They’re as well as can be expected. My brother is here, being a nuisance, but Marcus, Miriam, and Bertrand joined us, so it’s not all bad. Marcus asked me to say ‘hi,’ by the way.”

Matthew heard her bubbling laugh, making him grin like an idiot in response. “It sounds like a lovely party, nuisance brother and all.”

“I wish you were here,” he murmured softly. “Or that I was there.”

“Me too, though I’m not sure how warm a reception you’d get in Madison at the moment. My aunts are still getting used to the idea.” He could hear the sad smile in her voice. “I don’t like being separated like this,” she admitted.

He wished more than anything in that moment that he could reach across the phone and hold her in his arms. “I don’t either,” he confessed. “I’d brave any number of disapproving family members, witches or not, to be with you right now.”

Matthew broke off when he heard the voice from earlier – Sarah – call out from the background. “Diana! Tell Casanova there to hurry it up so we can get back to our movie.”

He could practically hear her embarrassed blush from the way her heart stuttered. “Sorry about that,” she apologized, sounding guilty. “I assume you heard what Sarah just said?”

Matthew gave a small forced laugh. “I did. Go enjoy time with your family. And Merry Christmas again. We’ll be back in Oxford together soon.”

“Goodnight, Matthew,” she said, voice tinged with regret.

“Goodnight,” he echoed and heard the receiver on the other end click. She was gone. And it would be almost another three weeks before he saw her again. You’ve survived decades between her visits before – centuries, even, in a few cases! Surely you can handle three short weeks, he tried convincing himself. It rang as hollow as his protestations of his good behavior did to Baldwin earlier.

Chapter Text

Saint-Lucien, France
Summer, 519

Diana breathed in, reveling in the scents of grass and growing things. It was January in Madison and the cold and snow had suppressed all signs of life in the woods surrounding the property, as well as her aunts’ garden. She looked around and realized where she was – the large oak tree where Matthew had kissed her just a few weeks ago was up ahead, the village and temple behind her.

She took off her socks and sweater – the weather was far too hot for wool – and started wandering over to where she’d last seen Matthew. It’s beautiful out here, she realized with a smile, peaceful and private. As she got closer, she saw Matthew lying down in the grass, enjoying the shade. He had his eyes closed, so she moved as quietly as she could, relishing the novelty of being able to sneak up on him for once.

He was taller than the last time she’d seen him and broader in the shoulders, though still with a boyish slimness that had long since faded from the man she knew in her present. He might not be a vampire yet, she mused, but I doubt he’d have any trouble carting me around. Muscles like that aren’t just for show. She knelt down next to him and fitted her mouth to his in a gentle kiss.

His eyes opened in shock, then widened in surprise and delight when they recognized her. “Diana,” he said breathlessly once she’d pulled away. He grinned at her as he sat up. “I can’t believe you’re here. I was just thinking about you.”

She shrugged shyly. “Well, here I am. And I was just thinking about you too,” she confessed. “I’ve missed you so much, it’s driving my aunts to distraction.”

He laughed, eyes twinkling. “My father feels the same. He’s started threatening to feed me to the manjasang in the chateau if I don’t shape up. But I know he’s only joking,” he teased with a lopsided grin. Diana’s heart caught in her throat. Human or vampire, he’s still my Matthew. And still devastatingly handsome.

“I have something for you.” He pulled a simple leather cord from the small bag he had tied at his waist. Laced on the cord was an ornately carved crescent moon made from some sort of stone. “I worked on it at night as a way of feeling close to you – I needed a way of keeping my hands busy, I couldn’t stop thinking about you or our kiss here. I made it in the shape of the moon because you’ve always reminded me of the goddess in Sieur Philippe’s stories. I’ve been carrying it around, hoping for a chance to give it to you.”

Diana examined it carefully, running her fingers over the delicate embellishments, marveling at the time and skill it must have taken to make such a thing. It’s cold and hard, yet smooth to the touch, she thought, vividly evocative of the Matthew of her time and his cool, strong hands. She shivered slightly at the memory of his skin against hers. “It’s beautiful, Matthew,” she breathed, reverently holding the gift. “Thank you.”

He took it from her slipping it carefully over her head and placing a warm, gentle kiss on her neck. “I’m still learning to work in stone, so it’s just a poor apprentice’s attempt,” he admitted sheepishly. “I wish it was silver strung on a real chain for you. It hardly seems like a worthy gift.”

She pulled him in for a kiss of her own, trying to show just how much it meant to her. “It’s beautiful, Matthew,” she repeated. “And all the more precious because you made it with your own two hands.”

She sat quietly as he studied her carefully – his embarrassment slowly fading as a result of whatever he saw reflected in her face. After a minute, he seemed to make a decision and suddenly crushed his mouth to hers. He pulled her against him and up into his lap with a moan when she leaned into the kiss, matching his hunger with her own. He let his hands wander along her hips, her back, her breasts while his mouth nuzzled her neck, breath hot against her skin. “God, Diana...you’re so beautiful. I have a hard time believing you’re real sometimes,” he murmured as he traced her jaw with his lips.

She gave a breathless laugh. “I was just thinking the same about you,” she said, chest heaving with pent up desire.

After a few minutes of hot and heavy kissing, hands roaming over their respective bodies, Diana made a decision. She didn’t want to wait until she was back in Oxford to make love to Matthew. She wanted to do it here, now, under this beautiful old oak and the blue summer sky. “I want you, Matthew,” she moaned, reaching down to cup his erection through his britches to make her meaning perfectly clear. “I want all of you. Will you have me?”

Matthew groaned in answer, cock twitching under her hand. “Yes, God yes.” He pulled away slightly. “May I?” he asked, one hand lightly fingering the waistband of her leggings. She nodded immediately, eyes wide and eager as he peeled them off her. She sent silent thanks to the universe for her lack of bra as his warm hands reached up under her shirt, cupping her breasts as he kissed her. She used her own hands to pull him closer, unwilling to have even an inch of space separating them.

“I want it to feel good for you too,” he panted, his tongue exploring her mouth as his hands explored between her slick thighs. She could still feel him, hard and insistent, against her hip. “I’ve never done this before. You’ll need to show me what to do.”

“I think I can manage that,” Diana assured him with a teasing smirk. She reached one hand between her thighs, taking his fingers and moving them up between her folds. “Here,” she urged him on, rocking her hips slightly. “Touching me here is like having someone’s hand wrapped around your cock.”

Matthew groaned. “Christ, I can only imagine,” he gasped as his fingers found their rhythm, her hips arching against him as they kissed hungrily.

“Nobody’s ever touched you, Matthew?” she asked breathlessly.

He moaned against her mouth, shaking his head slightly. “No, just me...I know it’s a sin, but I can’t help abusing myself sometimes.”

“What do you think about when you touch yourself?” Diana breathed, barely more than a whisper.

He gave her a frantic look, but closed his eyes as her hips again brushed up against his cock. “You,” he admitted, his words stuttering slightly in response to her movements. “Like this, sometimes...or I imagine it’s you touching me...or I’m inside you.”

God, that’s so hot. “Do you want me to touch you now?” she purred into his ear. “Do you want to see what it looks like when I wrap my hand around you, like you’ve imagined?”

He nodded eagerly as she undid his belt and the laces of his britches. His breath hitched in his throat and she felt his heart falter when she finally freed his leaking erection. He moaned when she reached down to gently explore him, which turned into a keening sound as she grasped him firmly. His panting sped up as he maneuvered himself between her thighs, replacing his fingers with the slide of his cock against her slick folds. “Christ, you feel so good and I’m not even inside you yet. It’s taking everything I have not to spill here and now,” he confessed, mouth hungry against her skin. “I don’t care if the Church calls it a sin, I’ll die if I can’t have you, Diana.”

Diana bit at his neck and ran her hands along his hips, desperate for him to finally finish what they’d started. “Please, Matthew...I need you now,” she begged as she felt the tip at her entrance. He groaned as he pushed himself inside her, their voices becoming insistent and incoherent together. Fuck, he’s big, she thought as she felt herself stretch around him. She grabbed one of his hands and again fitted it against her clit, showing him how to rub in counterpoint to their mutual thrusting. She knew it wouldn’t last long – he was a virgin and they were already both so ready by the time they got started – so she guided his hands, making sure he’d bring her along with him when he finally went over the edge.

A few more seconds of rubbing, of thrusting, and she came hard, clenching around his cock like she’d never had an orgasm before. As she moaned into his mouth, riding out the aftershocks of her release, she felt his hips begin to stutter and he started panicking, trying to pull out. “Diana no, I shouldn’t…” he gasped. He’s worried he might get me pregnant, she realized with a jolt, amazed that he’d been able to spare a thought to potential consequences of their lovemaking. She certainly hadn’t. How do I explain hormonal birth control? Can I? she wondered.

Diana pulled him in for another searing kiss and shook her head. “It’s fine, you don’t have to,” she murmured against his lips. “I won’t…”

He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers as his hips stopped trying to pull themselves away. He thrust into her once, twice more, then spilled deep inside her with a groan, collapsing on top of her. They stayed that way for several minutes before he began lightly kissing her neck, his soft cock sliding out of her. I can’t believe I’m the one who deflowered my fifteen hundred year old vampire boyfriend, she thought to herself in amazement. Damn, time travel is weird.

She looked up at him and smiled at his expression of total contentment. “So, what did you think?”

Matthew gave her a heart-stopping grin, hair unkempt and sweaty across his forehead. “Do you have to ask?” His face turned pensive after a moment, however. “And you’re sure I won’t...I can’t…” he started to ask, flushing with embarrassment.

“Get me pregnant?” she said, finishing his sentence. She reached over and ran her hands through his hair. “No, you don’t have to worry...I have ways of preventing it.”

He hesitated, swallowing with nervous energy. “It’s not that I wouldn’t want a child, eventually. I just wouldn’t have any way to provide for you yet. I’m still apprenticed to my father, I live in his house. It wouldn’t be right.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not expecting a marriage proposal,” she said with a small smile. Not for another fifteen centuries at least, at any rate, she thought with a silent snort. “And it’s not like I get to stay long when I do visit. So you’re perfectly safe. But be careful if you do this with any of the village girls,” she teased. “Or you may end up with a wife sooner than you expect.”

Matthew grimaced. “My father would whip me bloody, even if I am already half a head taller than he is,” he shared with a wince. “Besides, you’re the only one I want like this. Why would I go to them when I have you?”

She laughed and shook her head. You charmer. “What will I do with you, Matthew?” she asked fondly.

He ducked his head, flushing. “Kiss me again?” he suggested as he reached over to pull her in with a smile. “I wish you could stay longer,” he confessed quietly.

“So do I,” she told him with a sigh. “Not the least of which because it’s winter back home and I’m lacking in company.”

Matthew stilled. What’s wrong? she wondered when he looked worried. “And there’s no one else for you?” He sounded tentative, not jealous or judgemental. “You’re not promised to anyone back in your own time? I wouldn’t want to cause you trouble.”

Diana shook her head and blushed. “No, there’s just you. I promise,” she reassured him, then sighed sadly. “I’d stay here with you for a week straight, if I could. I’m going to miss you when I have to go home.”

His face brightened and he kissed her again. “My father would have the whole village out looking for me by morning,” he laughed. “I’m already due a thrashing for sneaking away today, but he’d have an absolute fit if I didn’t eventually come home tonight. I’m not nearly ready for this to end, though. Will you sit with me here until you have to go?”

Diana nodded. “Of course,” she promised. “I’d like nothing better.”

She felt Matthew’s hand trace along the line of her hip, fingers exploring her body. Her skin began to flush and tingle again and she saw desire flare once more in his eyes. Well, maybe almost nothing better, she thought happily as he pulled her in for another kiss.

Chapter Text

Bodleian Library, Oxford
January 14, 1999

Diana looked up from her books when she felt the cold gaze of a vampire on her back. She turned around, startled, then smiled when she recognized Matthew standing near the circulation desk. He hesitated, so she waved him over. She’d seen him briefly the day before when he’d picked her up from London’s Heathrow Airport, but they hadn’t yet had a chance to catch up since the holidays. She’d been so exhausted from the long day of travel that she’d fallen asleep in the car on their way back to Oxford, so he’d insisted on leaving once she was settled back in her rooms. She was eager to spend some time alone with him now that she could keep her eyes open.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to disturb you while you were working,” Matthew whispered, keeping his voice low and respectful of the other readers.

“I was just finishing up,” Diana reassured him. “Let me drop these off with Sean and then we can leave.” His answering smile made her heart turn over. She packed up her notebook and pens, then picked up the books she needed to return. Matthew had already grabbed her bag and slung it over his shoulder. “I can carry that, you know,” she admonished him peevishly.

Matthew’s smile widened into a mischievous grin. “I know you can,” he observed wryly. “But I like to help. I like to feel useful,” he teased.

She rolled her eyes in response and snorted quietly. “Fine, if it makes you feel useful.” They walked over to the circulation desk together where Sean was on duty. She handed him the books and they exchanged pleasantries before Diana and Matthew turned to leave.

Once outside, Matthew bent down to kiss her and whisper in her ear. “If looks could kill, I would be no more than a soot stain on the floor of the Bodleian right now,” he mused, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Diana rolled her eyes again. “It wasn’t that bad,” she objected. “Sean’s had a crush on me since we met last year. We’ve gone out for drinks as friends a few times, but it’s never gone beyond that.” She blushed, feeling a bit embarrassed. In truth, Sean’s interest had been both blatant and well-known amongst their mutual acquaintances, which had always made her feel more than a little awkward. She’d done her best to deliberately distance herself, not wanting to lead him on or make things worse. And he’d never acted on his obvious feelings – thank god, she thought – but that hadn’t lessened the inherent difficulties of the situation.

They walked hand-in-hand back toward her rooms so she could stow her bag and change. Matthew always insisted that she looked beautiful, no matter what she was wearing, but she liked to dress up a bit when they went out. He always looked so put together and she...well, she always felt a bit like an unkempt country mouse standing next to him.

“So, where are we going tonight?” Diana asked as they walked into her tiny living room.

“I thought I might take you dancing,” Matthew suggested, beaming at her in anticipation of their date. Dancing? Damn. Why does it have to be dancing of all things?

She hesitated at her bedroom door and turned around, deciding to raise the issue before she got changed. “Dancing?” she echoed, worried. “I don’t particularly like dancing. And I’m not very good at it either.”

Matthew took her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist. “I find that hard to believe,” he countered with a confused smile. “You contort your body into impossible shapes and fly across the water in tiny boats barely the width of a feather. Your every movement is like dancing – you should be a natural.”

Diana laughed. “You are biased. Besides, those aren’t the same things at all.”

“Aren’t they?” he quipped, one eyebrow cocked, a suppressed grin playing on his lips. “I’ll make you a deal – come dancing with me tonight. If you hate it, I’ll take you to yoga for every class next week.”

She rolled her eyes at his teasing. “We do that most weeks anyway, as you well know.”

“Well then, what should I wager instead?” he asked, bending down to kiss her again.

How am I supposed to concentrate on anything when he kisses me like that? she wondered to herself. “Hmmm,” she pretended to consider. “How about a night in? If dancing is a bust, you take me home and we spend the rest of the evening in bed together.”

Matthew’s eyes widened in surprise, then he swept her up into a kiss so ardent, she thought she might combust. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him even closer. She shivered as he growled quietly in response. Maybe we could skip the date entirely? she considered. I’m practically dying after spending most of the last month alone. She could tell he wanted her as badly as she wanted him – hell, she could feel it, which made her all the more determined not to go to bed alone tonight.

“That could be arranged,” he breathed against her lips. They stood like that for a moment before he pulled back and grinned at her wickedly. “But you’re not going to distract me into forgetting about taking you out tonight.”

Diana groaned. “Fine,” she agreed, closing her bedroom door behind her.

She sorted through what clean laundry she had left, deciding on a navy blue dress. Nice enough to go out in, if perhaps a bit chilly for January. Hopefully we won’t spend much time outside. She slipped it over her head and checked her appearance in the mirror as she fussed slightly with her hair. Her eyes moved to the leather cord around her neck and the crescent moon hanging from it – it had been hidden from view by the sweater and scarf she’d been wearing earlier. Will Matthew mind? she wondered guiltily. She’d told herself over and over since returning home that it wasn’t cheating, but she couldn’t seem to avoid the nagging feeling roiling in her gut that he’d be upset when he realized what had happened while they were apart. You’re being ridiculous, she told herself for the hundredth time that week. He already knows about the two of you having sex under the old oak tree. He was there too!

“Diana?” she heard Matthew call from the other room. “Is everything alright?”

She hesitated for a moment before responding. Damn, he can tell when I’m anxious, she reminded herself. “Yes!” she responded, a little too loudly to be believable. Might as well just get it over with, she resolved, gathering herself up. You won’t know how he’ll react until you give him the chance.

She opened the door and walked out, heels in hand, watching as his eyes first widened in appreciation, then froze in shock as he saw the necklace hanging between her breasts. “Diana…” he murmured, approaching her slowly.

“Do you mind?” she asked tentatively. “We never discussed it – me sleeping with past versions of you. And it didn’t even occur to me that you might until after I jumped home –”

Matthew cut her rambling off with a searing kiss. “Christ, Diana, how could I mind? I was an active and willing participant, after all,” he murmured against her lips. “Besides, it proved a rather illuminating experience, as I recall.”

Diana blushed, pleased that he’d remembered their time together so fondly, even after so many centuries. “Well, you were a remarkably quick study,” she teased lightly.

He chuckled, then pulled back slightly in surprise, shaking his head slightly. “I just realized...this means that my first time with you was also your first time with me?” he asked, sounding unsure. “I never even considered…”

She nodded, ducking her head in embarrassment. “Yeah – you kissed me under the old oak the first night I returned home. I visited the second time shortly after the New Year.” She looked back up at him, searching his face. “And you really, truly don’t mind?”

Matthew shook his head emphatically. “Never,” he promised. “Besides, I have very fond memories of that day – I wouldn’t give them up for anything. It was absolutely perfect, you were absolutely perfect.”

He bent down to kiss her again, making her heart race in anticipation. “Come on, let’s go dancing,” he said with a small laugh. “I’ve been dying to take you.”

She slipped on her shoes and followed him downstairs to his car. Once they were on the road, she started to get curious as they got further and further from the university. “So where exactly did you want to go dancing? Most of the clubs in Oxford cater to the undergraduates and don’t seem like your kind of place.”

Matthew glanced at her briefly before turning back to the road. “There’s this great salsa club I know near Covent Garden in Soho. The music is fantastic and it’s the kind of place where no one will spare us a second glance.”

“We’re going all the way to London?! That’ll take us over an hour, even without traffic.” Diana groaned. “We’ll be out all night at this rate.”

He laughed. “Don’t worry, I have a house in Mayfair close by. We can head there after we’re done. I’ll drive you back up to Oxford in the morning. I’ve made sure there are some staples in the kitchen – including tea,” he replied teasingly. “It won’t be fancy, but there will be plenty to eat and drink while you’re there.”

Diana huffed in annoyance. “If I knew we’d be spending the night in London, I’d have packed a small bag,” she complained. “You’re going to have me doing the walk of shame back to my rooms in the morning.”

If anything, this had him grinning even wider. “Oh, don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll find something suitable for you to wear,” he assured her.

It didn’t take them long to get there, despite the distance – traffic had been mercifully light all the way and Matthew drove with the fluidity and precision of a professional. The club was busy when they arrived, so Matthew volunteered to go to the bar for their drinks. The bartenders can’t miss him, she thought with a snort as she watched him maneuver himself between other thirsty patrons.

She allowed her mind to wander slightly, catching bits of overheard conversations, including a rather beautiful female voice speaking in French out of sight. Her reverie was interrupted, however, by the cold gaze of a vampire to her left. It wasn’t Matthew – she could still see him facing the bar in front of her. She swung around and the cold feeling disappeared. She studied the other patrons, heart hammering, trying to figure out who’d been looking at her.

“Diana?” Matthew asked, sounding worried as he approached with their glasses of wine. “Is everything alright?”

She nodded, taking a sip of wine to steady her nerves. “I thought I felt someone watching me, but whoever it was is gone now.”

He tucked her into his body protectively as he scanned the room for threats. Finally, he nodded also, relaxing slightly. “I don’t sense anything. Whoever it was seems to have left.”

Soho, London

Matthew was annoyed at himself for the awkward start to the evening. I never anticipated her reluctance to go dancing, he thought with a grimace. They’d danced before, after all, in his past. It was rare – they weren’t usually together long enough for her to learn the dances of the era – but she’d always seemed to enjoy it anytime it came up. And now, once they’d actually gotten to the club, Diana’s nerves only seemed to ratchet up further. She wasn’t joking, Matthew had realized, she really doesn’t like dancing. I wonder why? What’s so different now? he’d wondered, though he kept his mouth shut, mindful of the rules.

Then, when he’d left her alone for only a few minutes, she’d been startled by some unknown creature watching her from across the room. He’d picked this club specifically because it was outside the City of London – and thus far less likely for them to run into anyone unfriendly. Maybe I should just cut my losses and find us somewhere quiet to have dinner, he considered as he drank his wine, hoping he hadn’t ruined the entire evening.

After a few minutes, however, she seemed to relax and he found himself whispering into her ear, explaining the dances and steps. He loved the way she shivered anytime his mouth dipped near her neck or his lips grazed her skin. I’d spend every day with her like this if I could, he reflected with a contented sigh as he felt her melt into him. Finally, once they’d both finished their glasses, he led her over to an area of the dance floor where they’d have enough room to maneuver, but wouldn’t be noticed.

“You ready?” he asked, lips cocked into a lopsided smile.

“Not really,” she admitted sheepishly as they started to move together. She stepped on his feet a couple of times and couldn’t seem to get the rhythm right. Her brows were furrowed together in concentration and she kept stealing glances at her feet.

“Sorry!” she apologized after another run-in with his toes. “I told you I was bad at this.”

Matthew shook his head with a smile. “Do me a favor?” he asked, pausing to wait for her to nod in reply. She finally did after a moment, so he continued.

“Close your eyes for me.” Diana looked skeptical, then opened her mouth to protest. “Just give it a shot – I promise not to let you run into anyone else. Concentrate on the music, on my hands and body, and leave the rest to me.”

“Alright,” she agreed, then closed her eyes. The change was almost immediate. Without the steps or other dancers to distract her, she was able to move with him, rather than fighting for control. Gradually, the dance sped up and they were almost flying together. He saw her start to shimmer – too faint for a human’s eyes to see, perhaps, but practically blinding to a vampire – and he realized she’d lifted off the ground and was dancing on the air itself. He laughed in delight, loving the wild and happy expression on her face.

The music finally stopped and Diana opened her eyes to grin up at him. “That was amazing!” she exclaimed breathlessly.

“You have no idea,” he said, grinning back. “Look down.”

She did as he asked, then promptly fell back to earth, his arms bracing her to prevent a jarring impact with the floor. “What was that?” she asked, shocked.

Matthew led her off the dance floor and back to the spot they’d been occupying near the bar. “Have you never done that before?”

She shook her head. “Never. What was that?”

He laughed. “At a guess? Flying – or at least the beginnings of it.” He laughed again at her astonished expression. “I told you that you’d like dancing,” he teased.

Diana rolled her eyes, then laughed with him. “Fine, you win! Dancing is great. But maybe we should avoid doing it in public again for a while, what with all the accidental magic it seems to bring out.”

“Fair enough,” Matthew agreed, then took her hand, leading her back out to the street. “Well, I may have won our bet, but how about we go back to my place anyway?” he purred into her ear. “I’ve been waiting to get you out of that dress and into my bed ever since you suggested it back in your rooms.” He felt her shiver in anticipation, enjoying the sudden intake of breath and the way her heart started to race.

“It took every ounce of willpower I possessed not to take you right then and there, did you know that?” he confided. She shook her head, not taking her eyes off his. “I have spent the last month kicking myself for not taking you to bed before you left for Madison,” he admitted in barely more than a whisper, lips skimming along the skin of her neck. “But I knew that once I did, I wouldn’t be able to stay away for so long and you’d find me on your doorstep like a lost puppy begging to be let inside.”

Matthew kissed her then, hard, pushing her up against the cold stonework of the building near where his car was parked. He pushed his leg between her thighs, allowing her to feel his erection press into her hip. “Do you want me, Diana?” he breathed, voice harsh and rasping with restrained desire.

“Fuck yes,” she whimpered, heart hammering in her chest.

He growled low, then pulled himself away, depositing her into his car. It took every last bit of self control he possessed not to pull over and drag her into the back seat to continue what they’d started outside the club. But no, he wanted to do this right, give her the kind of night she deserved. So he kept his hands on the steering wheel and made record time through the streets of London.

As soon as they were inside the house, Matthew turned all his attention to undressing Diana as quickly as he could. He was desperate for the feeling of her skin on his, her warmth making him almost shiver with longing. He kissed her hungrily, up against the wall in the foyer as she removed his shirt and unbuckled his belt.

“Upstairs. Now,” he managed to bite out, barely moving his lips away from hers. She nodded agreement before he picked her up, wrapping her legs around his waist, then carried her up the two flights of stairs to his bedroom. He paused outside the door briefly, considering, before bringing her into the bedroom next to his instead.

Her eyes widened, taking in the room and its decorations. “Matthew,” she gasped. “It’s beautiful.”

“Later,” he promised, shaking his head. He removed his remaining clothes, then pulled Diana close once more. “Right now, I want to show you everything I’ve imagined doing to you over the past month while you’ve been away.” His hands slipped down to her hips and his lips grazed along her neck and collarbone.

“May I?” Matthew asked, eyes on Diana’s face, checking for any hint of reluctance. He found none.

“Please,” she whimpered as his fingers dipped lower. He placed a hungry kiss at the top of her left breast, eyes closed, savoring the taste of her skin and the smell of her arousal. It took every ounce of willpower not to bite her there, not to taste her as he’d been craving. Later, he told himself. That will come later.

Matthew brought Diana over to the giant four-poster bed, kissing her long and hard while he laid her out comfortably. His cock felt near to breaking, but he ignored it, instead kneeling between her thighs and bringing his mouth to where she was wet and throbbing.

“Oh god,” she breathed, hands gripping his hair. Diana began whimpering incoherently as he added first one finger, then two, and started thrusting into her. It wasn’t long before he had her clenching around his hands and face, gasping his name. He moved up her body, kissing until he found her mouth on his. He rumbled in contentment, feeling her lips while the taste of her arousal lingered in his mouth.

“Enjoy yourself?” he asked, lips quirking into a lopsided smile.

Diana let out an explosive breath, almost a laugh. “I’d have thought that was obvious,” she replied, raising a single sardonic eyebrow.

Matthew let one hand linger, stroking along her hip. “Perhaps,” he purred, enjoying the silky feeling of her skin. “But that doesn’t mean I should get complacent.”

“Well, I don’t think you’re in any danger of that,” she countered with a broad smile. He pulled her in for a long, slow kiss, which quickly turned rough when Diana bit his lower lip.

“No biting in bed,” he admonished teasingly, giving her a small nip in response.

“But it’s my turn now,” she objected, grabbing hold of his cock. “Didn’t you like it?”

Fuck. Christ. I can’t… His mind whirled, unable to think clearly enough to speak. It was all Matthew could do not to spill right then and there, the warmth of her hand surrounding his rock hard erection. And then he felt her warm, wet mouth on him and his brain went totally blank.

He finally had the presence of mind to whine something resembling words and she paused, looking up at him. The sight of her, mouth wrapped around his cock was too much. He closed his eyes, knowing that things would be over far too quickly if he didn’t get himself under control. But the memory of those eyes boring into him had him shuddering with the effort.

“Diana, I can’t…” he gasped. “I want to be inside you when I finish. I want to spill with you clenching around my cock from your own release. If you keep doing that, fuck, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself. Please,” he begged, then relaxed as she removed him from her mouth.

Diana kissed him, a smile flickering on her lips. “I like the sound of that,” she laughed playfully.

Unable to help himself, Matthew took one breast into his mouth as he climbed over her to settle between her thighs. The tip of his cock brushed against the blonde curls at her entrance, feeling her slick arousal. He waited, stroking and kissing, until her hips began to move again, undulating in silent welcome, then thrust in with a groan.

So warm. So tight. Dieu, I’m not going to last. He dipped his hand to the apex of her thighs, feeling them joined together, then began to circle and rub, helping Diana along. Soon, he felt her clench and spasm around him and this time he let himself go – hips stuttering as he spilled inside her, unable to form a single coherent thought.

Diana looked over and smiled contentedly at him, fingers carding through his hair. “Will this ever stop?” she mused aloud as her breathing started to even out.

“Will what ever stop?” he asked with a small frown.

She flushed slightly, then kissed him. “This feeling when I’m with you – it’s as if I’m fully alive for the first time.”

Matthew pulled her closer, unable to stand even a millimeter of distance between them. “I hope not,” he murmured shyly into her hair.

They lay there, legs tangled together and sated, until Diana’s heartbeat started to calm and she began shivering. Christ, I’m such an idiot. Matthew got up to light the fire in the room and covered her in blankets. “I should have done this first,” he apologized. “I’m sorry you’re cold.”

Diana burrowed further into the bedding, then smiled up at him. “Don’t be,” she told him. “I was just as carried away as you were.”

He smiled happily, fingers lightly tracing the line of her necklace where her neck and chest were visible. “So, do you like it?” he asked shyly. Even after so many centuries, he still remembered the feeling of the stone as he shaped and smoothed it night after night. The gift had been a labor of love and it had given him a thrill over the years each time he’d spotted it on her.

“It’s beautiful – I love it,” she replied without a hint of hesitation, making his heart soar. “I’ve worn it almost everywhere since you gave it to me, even to bed. The only time I’ve taken it off is to shower.”

Matthew smiled, stroking her cheek as she cuddled up to him. “Can I get you something to eat?” he offered, face still pressed into her hair. “I’m realizing you missed dinner.”

She shook her head and burrowed closer into him, seemingly content to just nod off to sleep. She started shivering again, though, making Matthew sigh. I should take care of that, I can’t have her cold in her own home. “Let me get you some pajamas at least. They’re mine, so they’ll be too big, but they’ll be warm and soft,” he insisted, slipping into the neighboring room for a minute.

When he returned, he brought both the promised pajamas and a set of clothes that included some dark brown trousers and a green checkered shirt that looked straight out of a Harper’s Bazaar from the 1970s. “Sorry I don’t have anything more modern here for you – I try to have at least one relatively current outfit available for you at any of my residences, but it looks like this one’s been here for at least twenty years,” he explained with a wince.

Diana pulled on the pajamas, then looked over the other clothing. “These aren’t too bad. A little dated, perhaps, but not so bad that they’ll be noticed. My classmates will probably think I’m into shopping at thrift stores,” she responded before yawning tiredly.

Diana put them by the side of the bed, then slipped under the covers, gesturing for him to join her. “Thank you,” she said, kissing him. “Both for the lovely night and the clothes.”

He gave her a bright smile in return, then gathered her up against his body. “My pleasure,” he whispered as he placed a soft kiss on her neck. Her breathing gradually evened out as she fell asleep, leaving Matthew to spend the night holding her, just as he’d been craving since he first found her again. It’d be the most restful night he’d had in centuries, surrounded by her sweet scent and lulled into perfect peace by the sound of her beating heart. He sighed contentedly. Anything for you.

Chapter Text

New Orleans, Louisiana
July 14, 1817

Ugh, it feels like I landed in a goddamned swamp, Diana silently complained to herself. She couldn’t see much of the city, given the lack of electric light and the new moon, but the heat and humidity were oppressive. She looked down at herself. Well, this is new. Her clothes had transformed – she was no longer in the rowing outfit she’d dressed in that morning, but rather a pair of britches and an old-fashioned looking linen jacket. She snorted. I look like I’ve cross-dressed as Mr. Darcy from Pride and Prejudice. At least I’m not in some frilly monstrosity or running around in leggings again. It could be a hell of a lot worse...and my necklace is still intact, thank the goddess, she reflected, running her fingers over it like a talisman. The intricately carved crescent moon that Matthew had given her had become one of her most prized possessions – she didn’t know what she’d do if it got lost or damaged.

She stepped out from behind the building and crossed the street, trying to get a sense of where and when she was. Matthew was probably somewhere nearby, since this was definitely too far back to find her parents or grandparents. As she walked, she noticed a beautiful woman bent over a man lying prostrate in the gutter. Her breath caught and the woman turned to look at her, frost blossoming under Diana’s skin at her gaze. Crap, vampire. Her heart rate immediately spiked. Is that blood on her hands and lips?

Diana immediately ducked down another street, trying to put as much distance between her and the female vampire as possible. She heard raucous voices in the distance, promising the safety of increased numbers. Before she got far, however, a hand shot out and gripped her upper arm, pulling her close.

“Now who are you?” an unknown voice purred, low and rich with the honeyed tones of the American South. Diana looked up and found herself face to face with a male vampire she’d never seen before. He had the most mesmerizing green eyes and a lazy smile played across his lips.

Before Diana could react, however, the man had moved her closer to the building and angled his body between her and the woman she’d seen earlier.

“Ransome, how many times have you and your wretch of a father been told not to touch what’s mine?” the other vampire demanded in a voice as cold as ice. Diana shivered, causing her to laugh.

Diana’s captor – rescuer? – stiffened. “She’s not yours, Juliette. I don’t smell you on her in the slightest. So move along, before I make you.”

The woman who’d been stalking her – Juliette, Diana reminded herself, names are important – laughed again. “Oh, what fun! A game,” the female vampire cried mockingly, voice turning positively icy as she continued. “And let’s be perfectly clear, my dear Ransome, it’s one you have no hope of winning. So give me the girl now and be on your way. Unless you’re so eager to join your brothers and sisters in the bayou? You know what, that sounds like altogether too much fun to pass up. I think we’ll start there before I move on to this delectable witch.”

Ransome growled, making Diana’s hair stand on end. Suddenly, she felt another presence come up from behind her, another set of cold vampire eyes taking in the scene.

“You heard him, Juliette. It’s time to move along. Ransome, take the lady inside. Now.” Diana turned at the familiar voice. Marcus! Oh, thank the goddess.

“Come now, Marcus. She’s mine, not yours,” Juliette insisted, almost teasingly. Her voice lost its playful tone as she continued, however, turning petulant, like a spoiled child denied a treat. “I was stalking her fair and square before your whelp so rudely interrupted. Matthew and I will forgive your interference, provided you hand her over. Now.”

Marcus snorted and shook his head. “Trust me, Juliette: if you value your life, you’ll keep this little incident between us and you won’t say a word to my father about it.”

“You think you could make me?” she snarled, teeth bared and feral.

Marcus laughed sardonically. “Oh no, I wouldn’t have to.” He glanced at Ransome again. “Ransome, take her inside. Now – I won’t ask again. I’ll join you both in a minute.”

Ransome nodded, shielding Diana as he led her inside. The door opened into a smoke-filled hallway, the scent of cigars filling the air. Diana could hear raised voices and music coming from elsewhere in the building. “This way,” Ransome said, indicating a stairway up to the next floor. “We’ll wait in my office.”

Diana nodded, too stunned to speak. Where is Matthew? And who the hell was that woman?

Finally, Ransome brought them into an opulent room filled with far too much velvet and gilt for Diana’s tastes. He deposited her in a chair by the far wall, taking up a position by the door. Guarding it, Diana realized, in case Juliette gets past Marcus.

“Who are you?” Diana asked, finally finding her voice. Her hand wandered up to her throat to touch her necklace – it had become an almost instinctive response to her anxiety over the last month.

“I should be asking you the same question,” he retorted testily. “You’re a witch and covered in dear old granddad’s scent, yet that whore of his had no idea who the hell you were. Curious...very, very curious.”

Diana stiffened at Ransome’s words. Matthew’s whore? Juliette? Diana knew Matthew had taken lovers over the centuries, but he’d always been circumspect with how much he’d shared. The venom with which Ransome had spoken to her and the behavior of Juliette herself painted a very different picture than what Diana had imagined.

To her eternal relief, Marcus appeared before Diana could respond. “Hello, Diana,” he greeted her, voice and posture stiff. “What are you doing here?”

“Where is here precisely? I’m sorry, I’m not entirely sure where I am,” Diana explained apologetically.

“The Domino Club,” Ransome supplied with a wicked grin. “Where else?”

Diana looked at Marcus for help. “You know that’s not what I meant. Where am I? When am I?”

Marcus sighed, gesturing for everyone to sit. “So it’s true, I didn’t just imagine it all those years ago? I’d almost managed to convince myself that you were nothing but a fever dream – either mine or Matthew’s – when nobody else I asked had ever heard of you.”

Diana shook her head. “No, you didn’t,” she confirmed softly. “It was only a few months ago for me. And I’m sorry, I’m not sure exactly who in Matthew’s family knows about me.”

Ransome continued to look confused. “What the hell is going on?” he demanded, starting to sound agitated. “Who is this woman, Marcus?”

“Be quiet,” Marcus snapped, making the other vampire subside. “I don’t want the entire club hearing our business.” He walked over to the decanter in the corner and poured himself a large glass of whiskey before returning to Ransome’s question. “To answer your question: the one time I met her before, she was introduced to me as Matthew’s wife.”

Ransome gaped. “Matthew’s wife? But she’s a witch,” he hissed angrily, starting to pace back and forth. “And he’s the one here lecturing us about upholding the covenant after marrying a goddamned witch? Then he just stood by and let that bitch Juliette pick us off, one by one? She practically admitted to doing so to my very face! Of all the –”

Marcus cut him off. “Yes, I know, Ransome, but this is hardly the time for that particular conversation. And the truth about my father’s relationship to Diana is...well...a tad more complicated, from what I understand. I’ve never gotten the full story.” He turned to her again, presenting her with her own glass of whiskey before continuing. “And to answer your question, Diana, we’re in New Orleans and it’s the fourteenth of July in the year of our Lord eighteen hundred and seventeen.”

Diana took a sip, swallowing hard. Then another, hoping it would help her shake some of the anxiety. It didn’t. “And who was that vampire? Juliette?”

“Juliette Durand, one of Gebert’s brood. And a foul hell-beast determined to latch onto Matthew,” Marcus commented darkly. “If you see her again, stay the hell away from her. She’s possessive and positively lethal – she’d have your throat torn out the second she smelled him on you.”

Diana blanched, then drained her glass, realizing just what a near miss she’d had. “And where is Matthew?” she asked cautiously.

Ransome snorted. “Out –” he started before Marcus cut him off with a look.

“You can stay here until it’s time for you to go,” Marcus offered. “Do you know when that is, precisely?”

Diana shook her head. “This wasn’t exactly planned.” She shivered. “And I’d appreciate it if you kept the visit to yourselves.”

“Why is that?” Ransome asked, curious. “If he’s your husband, surely he’d want to know that you’d nearly gotten yourself killed by his lover.”

“Christ,” Marcus exclaimed. “If he found out Diana had been in danger like that, especially from Juliette? I’m pretty sure he’d raise New Orleans to the ground. None of us would escape his wrath.” He looked pale just imagining it.

Wrath? Diana couldn’t imagine Matthew acting like that. Sure, he was a bit over-protective, but he’d never been even the slightest bit violent in her presence. This was an entirely new side to her boyfriend – and it left her feeling even more wrong-footed than meeting Juliette had.

Ransome made a disbelieving sound. “Bullshit, Marcus. If he’s so concerned with his wife’s welfare, what’s he doing with a creature like Juliette?” he pressed with a shake of his head. “It makes no sense.”

“I’m a timewalker,” Diana cut in, trying to prevent further argument. Both vampires looked at her sharply. “I’m not from this time – I jump back and visit Matthew’s past...at random, unfortunately. And often out of order.”

Ransome gaped at her. “And I’m not Matthew’s wife, not in my time,” Diana explained, unable to keep a note of chagrin from her voice. “We’re...involved...but not married. It’s what he tells people, though, when I show up like this. As a precaution – to keep me safe and keep people from asking questions.”

Marcus barked a laugh. “Hardly. If he wanted to keep people from asking questions, he’d tell them you were his whore, not his wife – it would be far easier to explain and generate far less notice, especially since you’re a witch,” he retorted, tone bitter. “If he’s calling you his wife, it’s because that’s how he sees you himself.”

Matthew thinks of me as his wife? The thought made Diana flush. She stood up to refill her glass, needing another drink, but when she turned, she found herself back in her rooms at Oxford. She checked the clock – she’d missed her morning workout, but would still have time to make it to her first class, provided she hurried. I better brush my teeth again, she reflected sourly. I’m not sure my classmates would appreciate the scent of whiskey on my breath before noon.

As she walked to class later that morning, she decided to keep her mouth shut about her latest jump. Something about the whole encounter had left her unsettled and the idea of discussing Juliette with Matthew made her terribly uncomfortable. It’s over. He doesn’t need to know what happened.

Chapter Text

All Souls College, Oxford
March 4, 1999

Matthew didn’t think he’d ever tire of watching Diana sleep. It was almost entirely novel -- anytime she’d visited him in the past, he’d been so...focused...on making the most of their short time together that he could count on both hands the number of times he’d seen her fall asleep before this past September. He treasured each and every time, knowing that she trusted him enough to be entirely vulnerable in his presence. Dieu, she’s lovely, he thought to himself as he leaned in to rest his face against her hair. He let her scent wash over him, green and sweet and entirely her. Nothing and no one else could quiet his mind or soothe his soul like Diana.

She rolled over and smiled at him sleepily. “Hi there,” she whispered. He smiled back at her. “What time is it?”

Matthew ran his hands distractedly through her hair as they watched each other. “Early,” he finally answered. “You should go back to sleep.” Matthew knew that she had classes later and would be tired if she didn’t get some more rest, but his hands had a mind of their own. They’d started at her neck, then wandered down to her thighs, feather-light and soothing. He couldn’t seem to make himself stop touching her.

Her smile grew and the sleep cleared from her eyes. Matthew heard her heart stutter, then start to race. “You know, I don’t think I’m sleepy anymore,” Diana commented, teasing her bottom lip with her teeth.

He brought his hands up to cup her face, then pressed his mouth to hers in a searing kiss. After a minute, he noticed some hesitation and so he pulled away slightly. She was watching him, but warily, like she was scared of something. His brows furrowed as he stroked her cheek with his thumb. “What’s wrong?” he asked as gently as he could manage. Her fingers had found their way to the necklace he’d made for her all those centuries ago, fidgeting with the stone pendant and rubbing it as she avoided looking him in the eye. Over the past several weeks, he’d noticed her touching it absently whenever she was concerned or preoccupied.

“I...nothing,” she started, then cut off. “There’s nothing wrong.” He waited, hoping she’d trust him enough to tell him what was bothering her. “I’m in love with you,” Diana finally admitted in a small, frightened voice. “I have been for a while, but I’ve been too scared to say anything until now.”

Matthew gaped at her, mind racing and conflicted. He’d loved her for so long, his heart sang to know she finally -- finally! -- returned his feelings. But he refused to trap her into a relationship with him through her ignorance -- it could end up destroying them both. Christ, this is too soon. I haven’t had a chance to explain...she doesn’t know what she’s getting into. Damn, damn, damn, how could I have been so stupid? He’d wanted to let the relationship develop naturally, but now his soul was being shredded with the effort of holding himself back. I love you too, you have no idea how much.

Diana’s expression turned from hopeful to heartbroken as she watched his unmoving face. “I...see.” She started to get out of bed and turned away from him, clearly trying not to cry. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.” She bent down, looking for her clothes.

Matthew got out of bed and grabbed her hands. “Diana --” he started, trying to explain, but she closed her eyes and suddenly he felt wind pushing him back, away from her. It was swirling around her, like an invisible shield, making her hair whip around, tears starting to stream down her face.

“No! No, just leave me alone.” Diana opened her eyes. “Please just let me go,” she begged as she backed away, wind continuing to blow and whirl around her. “I can’t be here anymore. I can’t listen while you tell me you don’t feel the same.” She choked on a sob. “It would break me.”

“I’m not...I won’t. Dieu, I’m making a mess of things,” he rambled, running his hand through his hair in nervous agitation. “I don’t want to trap you.” His heart leapt as he saw her hands drop to her sides, the winds starting to still. “Diana, you need to understand,” he began, then paused, eyes pleading. He didn’t continue until he had her full attention “I...we...vampires, we mate like wolves -- or perhaps lions. I think I mentioned this back in November, yes? You remember this, I believe, from when you asked me about my article?” His voice had started taking on an older cadence, accent slipping with the stress.

She nodded slowly in response, but didn’t speak. He searched for the right way to explain, but all the words seemed horribly inadequate. “The female makes her choice, then once the male decides to accept the bond, that’s it, it’s for life. There’s no turning back: no separations, no other lovers, just the mated pair until one or both of them dies. Centuries, millenia in some cases, it doesn’t go away. Not ever.”

He started inching closer to her, trying to avoid spooking her further. “You’re so young, there’s so much you haven’t experienced yet. It didn’t seem fair to bind you to me like that, to trick you into a commitment you weren’t prepared for, no matter how great the temptation.” He was finally within arm’s reach, but she continued to watch him warily. “Not when you didn’t know what you were offering -- not just your love now, but always. Diana, I couldn’t accept it knowing you might come to regret it later. That would break me.” He took that final step, pulling her into his arms and closing his eyes. He prayed she’d understand, forgive him. I can’t lose her, not now, not like this.

“So, why didn’t you tell me?” She sniffed against his chest. “Why wait until now?”

“Because I was terrified of losing you,” he admitted softly. He kissed the top of her head, breathing in her scent, allowing it to reassure him, to steady him. “I’ve waited so long, I couldn’t risk scaring you off, not before you were ready to hear it. But I should have said something sooner. It wasn’t fair to you. I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

“It doesn’t change anything for me, you know.” She looked up at him. “I love you, Matthew Clairmont. I love you now and I’ll love you fifty years from now. So tell me, how do you feel?”

“Christ, Diana, I love you. I’ve loved you since I was sixteen years old. The way it felt when I kissed you that first time, I knew you were the one for me.” He gathered her face in his hands. “I’d have married you a hundred times over in all the centuries I’ve been waiting, if I’d been allowed. So please...will you still have me?”

She nodded. “With all my heart,” she pledged. Matthew’s body shifted in response. His heart rate stayed the same, his skin didn’t flush with heat, but his breath caught in his throat with a murmur of longing. Diana heard it, her own heart starting to race as she pressed her body against his. She angled her face up to his, catching his lips in a kiss that was both fierce and full of longing. Mine, his heart sang. Forever mine.

“You are mine now.” Matthew picked her up and carried her back to his bed. “Dieu, I wish we were somewhere more private,” he groaned as he kissed his way down her body, pausing at her left breast. His instincts were screaming at him to bite, to taste her, to know her as only a vampire could know his mate. No, not yet. Not until I can explain. She might love him, but things were still too new, too fragile. He didn’t want to scare her by taking things too far so soon.

Matthew took a shuddering breath, savoring the scent of the blood pounding just under the skin. He forced himself to move on, kissing her other breast, her stomach, her thighs. “I plan on making you scream before we’re done,” he swore before taking her sex into his mouth.

Diana gasped, threading her fingers in his hair. “Oh god, Matthew.”

He smiled to himself, loving the sound of his name on her tongue. He brought a hand up to spread her thighs further, teasing her entrance as he licked and sucked at her clit. I’ll never get tired of this. I could die here if I’m not careful, he realized, wasting away from lack of nourishment, but unable to tear myself away from her. He wasn’t sure he cared. Slowly, he inserted one finger, then another, enjoying the feeling of her clenching around them. Soon she was breaking apart, crying out in pleasure.

She looked down at him and laughed breathlessly. “Mission accomplished?” she teased lightly.

Matthew growled, moving up to kiss her full on the mouth. “Not even close.”

Diana grinned at him wickedly. “Good,” she purred as her hand wrapped around his cock. What followed next had Matthew dizzy with the feeling of her lips against his and...Christ...her fingers stroking him over and over and over until he no longer knew where his body ended and hers began.

Finally, when he could take it no longer, he grabbed both her hands and thrust home, seating himself fully within her. The wolf inside him howled its approval and he almost came then and there, feeling completely surrounded by her wet heat. This is what it feels like to finally feel whole. He reached down to play with the nub at the apex of her thighs, knowing he wouldn’t be able to last long now that he was inside her. Soon he had her beginning to tremble with the first tremors of release. Fuck, I can’t, he thought, brain stuttering with the effort of remaining coherent as he joined her, spilling himself deep within.

Diana kissed him again as he slipped his softening cock out of her. What have I done to deserve you? he wondered, looking into her beautiful, breathless face. Matthew smiled and stroked her cheek, studying her. “I don’t think I’ll ever tire of seeing you like this.”

Diana blushed, looking both pleased and a bit embarrassed. “Like how? Unwashed and hair all askew?”

Matthew laughed. “Relaxed. Happy.” He kissed her, then continued. “Just...having time. It’s different -- wonderful -- knowing that you’ll still be here tomorrow or a week from now or a year. I didn’t realize just how tightly wound we both were before, knowing that our time together was limited.”

“I spent years savoring every memory,” he confessed. “I fell in love with you the day I first kissed you by the old temple. It was like a bolt of lightning, I knew my life would never be the same after.”

“I think I fell in love with you that first day you ambushed me outside the library.” Diana ducked her head as Matthew laughed.

“Ambushed?! I did no such thing.” He kissed her once, then again. “I was minding my own business, walking home from a concert, then there you were -- I thought my heart was going to stop from the shock.”

Diana laughed at the memory. “Well, I couldn’t get you out of my head, even though I told myself I was just angry or curious.” She smiled brightly at him, tears shining in the corners of her eyes. “I knew, though -- really knew -- that day I first visited your past. Once I came back, once I knew that all my trips to see you weren’t planned, that they just happened, something clicked into place. I couldn’t forget the look on my dad’s face when he told me that uncontrolled jumps really only happen with family, when he asked me if you were ‘important’ to me.” She nestled into him, enjoying the feeling of his arms around her. “It’s just taken me this long to admit it.”

Matthew kissed the top of her head, pulling her closer. “I want to take you somewhere special this weekend, somewhere where it’s just the two of us. Is that okay?”

Diana nodded. “That sounds wonderful. I just wish I didn’t have to go to class today.”

He laughed, then kissed her again. “Well, it’ll give me time to make the necessary arrangements. I’m afraid that if you stayed here all day, we’d never end up leaving the bed,” he teased, running a hand up her side to fondle one of her breasts.

She laughed with him. “You’re probably right. How about you meet me after class, then I’ll go back to my rooms and pack a bag. We can be out of Oxford by 4:00 this afternoon.”

“It’s a date,” Matthew promised, smiling so wide he thought his mouth might crack from the strain.

Chapter Text

Lahinch, County Clare, Ireland
March 5, 1999

Diana sat next to the large sea-facing window, watching the birds skim along the waves and reflecting on all the changes that could happen in a day. Yesterday had been a whirlwind. She’d woken up in Matthew’s bed in Oxford with no plans beyond her normal, everyday existence: classes, the library, rowing on the Thames, spending time with Matthew -- all perfectly lovely and entirely routine. She’d fallen asleep, exhausted but thoroughly satisfied with life, in the giant bed upstairs in this gorgeous house on the western coast of Ireland. This must be what perfect feels like, she thought, smiling to herself.

She shivered a bit, then smiled when Matthew came up behind her with another blanket and a steaming mug of tea. “I should have taken you somewhere warmer, I’m afraid,” he apologized, placing a kiss on the top of her head.

She turned to face him and laughed. “Don’t you dare! I was actually just thinking how perfect this was. It’s so beautiful and peaceful.” She made a hum of contentment as he wrapped his arms around her. “Not to mention cozy. I wouldn’t change it for anything.”

Matthew smiled and kissed her. “Well, then, who am I to argue? Come --” he grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the overstuffed chair by the roaring fireplace, “-- I have some things for you.”

“What? More than this lovely weekend away and the fancy travel arrangements?” Diana teased. She’d been shocked the previous day at the private plane -- she’d known he had money, of course, but seeing it in practice had been a bit overwhelming.

Matthew grinned at her wickedly. “Well, the weekend away is entirely selfish on my part, I can assure you. There’s so little privacy in Oxford -- or even Woodstock, really -- I wanted to bring you someplace where we wouldn’t have neighbors for miles.” He leaned in to kiss her to prove his point. “But there are some things I’d like you to have.” He took out a padded envelope and handed it to her. “I’m sorry this wasn’t ready when we left yesterday, it would have made arrival and departure a bit easier.”

Diana opened the envelope and slid out a small black passport. When she opened it, she saw it was issued by the French government to “Diana de Clermont” and it had the same picture used in her American one. She looked at him quizzically, not understanding. “I’m confused -- you got me a French passport? And why is it black instead of burgundy?”

“It’s a diplomatic passport,” Matthew explained matter-of-factly, like it was perfectly normal to just have a diplomatic passport, even when you weren’t a diplomat.

She gaped at him in shock. “But...how? Why?”

“It’s a perk of being part of the family, like the private plane.” He looked at her nervously. “As my wife, you’re entitled to it.” He looked at his hands, waiting for her reaction. The word “wife” seemed to echo in the room while Diana processed both the gift and what he’d said.

Wife? Marcus had told her that Matthew considered her his wife when they met in New Orleans, but she’d shrugged it off. Surely Matthew would have said something to me of all people if that was true, she’d told herself -- insisted, in fact -- at the time. “Did I miss something?” she finally asked, still feeling mystified. “When were we married?”

Matthew looked back up at her. “Yesterday morning: the moment I told you I loved you back. It wouldn’t stand up in court, perhaps, but as far as vampires are concerned, we’re wed -- or rather, mated. They’re very similar, though a vampire might marry many times over the centuries and we typically only mate once, if ever. But we tend to refer to our mates as our spouses, especially in mixed company, even if we haven’t actually had the wedding yet.”

“Ah. I see,” she blurted out. But she didn’t, not really. Matthew’s wife, she considered hesitantly, trying to get comfortable with the idea. How did he describe vampire society back in November? Or when we talked yesterday? she asked herself, casting about wildly for some point of reference or scrap of relevant conversation as she tried to remember. That their ‘pack dynamics and mating rituals’ were like wolves’? She silently kicked herself for not insisting that he share more specifics -- on either occasion or anytime since.

“I never liked the word ‘mate’ though. It always sounds impersonal, like you’re trying to match up socks or shoes.” He’d gone still, watching her reaction. “But you’re not a vampire. Do you mind that I think of you as my wife?”

I don’t know? No, she couldn’t say that. “And when two vampires mate,” Diana began once she found her voice, “is it expected that the female will obey the male, just like the rest of the pack?”

“I’m afraid so.” Matthew looked down at his hands again, clearly worried he’d overstepped. Diana’s heart clenched in sympathy, even as her head spun.

Diana studied him for a moment before speaking again, trying to reconcile her identity as she knew it with this new reality. The past seemed cold and gray and so, so lonely without Matthew. These past months had been wonderful and the future promised to be much more exciting -- alive with possibility -- with him in it. That’s your answer, isn’t it? she told herself. After all, you were fine with promising yourself to him yesterday, you can learn to live with the label, if it makes him happy. And it’s not like it’s entirely out of left field, given what Marcus told you. It’s not Matthew’s fault you didn’t really listen.

She reached out for his hand, which caused Matthew to look back up at her. The fear and sadness on his face broke her heart. Diana smiled at him deliberately, trying to ease his discomfort, and picked her next words with care. “So, husband, is there anything else about vampire culture I should be aware of?” she asked, trying to keep any hesitation from her tone, but not quite managing it. He didn’t seem to notice, thank the goddess.

His face broke into the widest smile she’d ever seen. “Oh, lots, almost certainly.” He leaned over and gave her a lingering kiss. “But I can’t seem to remember or care what they are at the moment,” he whispered against her lips.

Diana giggled, her worry lifting at his lighthearted tone. “And you’d leave me in ignorance, husband, free to offend any friends or family I might meet?”

Matthew kissed her again, clearly pleased by her repeated use of his new title. “If you insist, who am I to refuse?” he replied happily, teasing her slightly. “But later. I don’t want to share you with anyone else this weekend, not even the idea of other creatures.” He reached for her hand and brought it up to his mouth, brushing his lips against her knuckles. “I said you were mine, and I meant it.”

A thought occurred to Diana, now that the shock surrounding Matthew’s explanation had started to fade. “The passport is under the name ‘Diana de Clermont’?” she observed, an eyebrow raised in question.

He nodded sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to presume, I know you’ve said that the women in your family traditionally keep their own names. It’s just that being a de Clermont opens a lot of doors. I wanted you to have that, if it was ever necessary.” He looked uncertainly at her. “I can have it changed to ‘Bishop’, though, if you’d prefer.”

“No, that’s not what I meant. I just, I guess I never really knew your family name before this,” Diana explained, shaking her head. “You’ve been ‘Matthew Clairmont’ to me since I’ve known you. It hadn’t actually occurred to me that it wasn’t your real name, which is stupid, considering I knew you used ‘de Clermont’ when I saw you during my first jump.”

Matthew nodded, finally understanding. “I’ve always preferred aliases that are close to the family name -- Clairmont or Chiaromonte, for example -- and reuse them with some regularity. It’s not always possible, of course, but I like using my own name whenever I can. Adopting a new life is hard enough, it’s a comfort to keep something of me when I do.”

“And Matthew?” Diana probed gently. “Is that always the given name you use?”

Matthew shook his head. “My full name is Matthew Gabriel Philippe Bertrand Sébastien de Clermont,” he replied, the hint of a smile playing across his lips. “I like Matthew best and use it often -- it was the name my human parents gave me, as you know, so I’ve always been attached to it. I’ll also use Gabriel or Sébastien from time to time, but not the others.”

“Why not?” Diana asked, surprised. She couldn’t see anything wrong with his other names.

Matthew’s face sobered. “Well, Philippe was always my father’s favorite name. It never felt right to use it myself, even before he died.” He shook his head, like he was trying to banish painful memories. “And Bertrand is Miriam’s husband’s favorite name, at least as long as I’ve known him. He’s my best friend and the closest thing to a true brother I have left, so using it has always seemed like a recipe for confusion.” He laughed softly. “I suppose, that could have been amusing in its own way, though no one would ever confuse us by sight.”

Diana smiled contentedly, enjoying the feeling of his body close, her hand in his. This should scare me, shouldn’t it? But something about being with Matthew has always been easy, has always felt right.

“I also have a gift for you,” Matthew murmured, smiling at her shyly.

She laughed. “And what was the passport, then?”

“Convenience. Paperwork. Not a gift.” He placed another kiss on her hand, then on her wrist, lingering for a moment. “This is a gift,” he announced, removing a jeweler’s box from his pocket.

Diana took the velvet-covered box from him, hesitating slightly. It’s not a ring, is it? She wasn’t sure she was ready for a ring just yet, no matter how she was adjusting to calling Matthew her husband. It’s not the right shape for a ring, she reassured herself as she opened it.

“Oh, it’s beautiful,” she breathed. Inside was a watch, clearly old in design, though looking as shiny and new as if it had been made yesterday.

Matthew plucked the watch from its box, undid its clasp, then fastened it around her wrist with a kiss. “It’s from the 1920s. It’s enough like a bracelet that it shouldn’t attract too much attention when you jump back more than a century, but it’ll let you keep track of time both while you’re here in the present and when you’re traveling in the past.”

He looked at her, studying her closely. “I know you stopped wearing your quartz watch back in November because you were worried about what might happen to the batteries if it got damaged or lost. This is hand-wound and won’t have that problem.”

“Thank you, Matthew. It’s a lovely and truly thoughtful gift.” Diana kissed him to show her appreciation.

“I do eventually want to marry you the way warmbloods do, even if we’re already considered wed by vampire custom,” Matthew confessed, looking shy. She recognized that expression and could tell he’d be blushing, if he were still human. “Church, rings, family, and all the rest.” He studied his hands, embarrassed. “I consider us married now and I hope you do too -- or will, anyway. It’s just, I used to dream of it, when I was human -- the two of us, standing before the priest, exchanging vows. And I can’t seem to shake the desire, no matter how many centuries have passed.”

“I’d like that too -- someday,” Diana told him. Then she giggled, causing his head to whip up and for him to look at her in confusion. “Sorry, I’m just imagining my Aunt Sarah trying to make nice with a crowd of vampires.”

Matthew chuckled in response. “Or Ysabeau among witches.” He smiled, stood, then extended his hand to her. “Come, mon coeur, let me take you up to bed.”

Diana took his hand and stood, bringing him close and kissing him. “Deal,” she agreed with a smile.

March 6, 1999

Early the next morning, Matthew stood on the rocky outcropping just beyond the house, listening to the sea and feeling at peace. Matthew had always found the sound of waves against shore strangely comforting for a man who hadn’t even seen the ocean until he became a vampire in his fourth decade of life. Diana was still asleep -- likely would be for hours yet -- and Matthew had come outside to think.

He closed his eyes and took a breath, reflecting on the past two days. He’d finally been able to tell Diana how he felt, finally been able to acknowledge and solidify the mating bond. After nearly fifteen hundred years of yearning and anxiety, the absence of that stress was both overwhelming and freeing. He felt alive in a way he hadn’t since Lucas died.

“Matthew?” he heard Diana call from inside the house. He raced inside, not wanting her to venture outside in the dark and break her neck by stumbling on the rocks.

As he came inside, she turned around, clearly expecting him from a different direction. “What is it, mon coeur?” he asked, smiling as he walked over to her. “I expected you to still be in bed.” He took her in his arms and kissed her, enjoying the feeling of her warmth against him.

Matthew froze, lips still touching hers. Why does she smell like that? he wondered, then took a closer look at her.

She wasn’t wearing any of the clothes she’d packed and while she was wearing her necklace, a heavy silver signet ring dangled next to it on the cord. He reached down and brushed her hair away from her neck, knowing exactly what he’d find: a faded scar where a vampire -- him? -- had bitten and fed from her. “You’re not the Diana I left upstairs.”

“No,” she agreed, a regretful look in her eyes. “Are you disappointed? I remember what a big weekend this was for us.”

Matthew shook his head. “Never. I could never be disappointed to see you,” he swore, placing a kiss on her palm before wrapping himself around her once more. He buried his face in her hair and she tucked her face into his chest. They stood there for a minute before he spoke again. “How far along are you? Are you feeling okay?” he finally asked, pulling back to examine her face.

She chuckled ruefully. “Of course that is what gave me away. You really are like a bloodhound.” She shook her head, laughing lightly. “Nearly at the end of my first trimester -- and you’re lucky I’m giving you any information, so you better keep it to yourself when the time comes.”

She moved to sit on the couch. “And I’m feeling about as well as can be expected: queasy and exhausted, but neither are too terrible. You wouldn’t happen to have any herbal tea here, would you? Something peppermint or ginger?”

Matthew grimaced in sympathy. He remembered the first time he’d knowingly seen her while she was pregnant and would never forget the look of absolute terror on her face as she struggled to remember enough Latin to ask for something to vomit into. It would have been funny if it hadn’t also been so momentous for him. “I’m sorry, mon coeur. I didn’t anticipate needing any. You normally despise herbal teas.” He moved over to the kitchen, coming back with a glass of water. “Here, maybe this will help?”

Diana nodded, taking a sip of the water. “Thank you, yes. Not as good as ginger tea for the nausea, but better than nothing.” She yawned, face taking on a pale cast. “I was just about to take a nap when I found myself here. Any chance I could take advantage of the bed upstairs? I hate to waste any time we have together, but I’m not sure I can keep my eyes open much longer.”

Matthew frowned, wanting to help relieve her discomfort, but also worried about the potential consequences of having two versions of his wife under the same roof. “The Diana from this time is already upstairs. Should you be up there at the same time as her?” he wondered in concern. If being around me could tell her things she doesn’t want to know about her future, what would a future version of herself do?

Diana shook her head and laughed lightly. “No, you don’t have to worry about that.”

Matthew cocked his head, surprised. “Why not?”

“That’s not the way it works. I can’t be in the same time with myself -- when I jump to a time where I already exist, the me in that time gets...well, gets displaced.” Matthew stood up in distress. Displaced? She took his hand reassuringly, motioning for him to sit back down. “Once I leave, the me from this time will reappear exactly where she was, none the wiser. I promise, it’s never done me any harm. But you’ll never see two of me in the same place.”

“So, what you’re saying is that if I were to go upstairs right this second, I wouldn’t find you asleep in bed?” Matthew asked, still feeling alarmed and wanting to clarify the situation.

Diana nodded. “I promise, there’s no me up there right now.” She stood up, holding out her hand for him. “Come up with me? I always sleep better when you’re there.” He nodded and stood, taking her hand, then walked upstairs with her. As she’d said, no Diana slept in the rumpled sheets.

Matthew took off his clothes and they crawled into bed together. She fitted herself against him, back to front, as his arms wrapped around her waist. “Sleep, love,” he whispered reassuringly, then kissed the nape of her neck. “I’ll be right here until you jump back, I promise.”

She hummed happily. “I do so love you, Matthew,” she murmured, making his heart sing with joy.

His right hand drifted down to her still-flat belly to hold their unborn child as she slept, knowing it would be some years yet before he could do this again. If I even get the chance, he thought with a terrified shudder. He hadn’t forgotten the scars on her neck and arm, the sadness in her voice when he asked about them, the lingering worry that he’d die with her blood on his lips before he ever got the chance to meet their child. That -- besides harm to Diana herself -- was his greatest fear.

Matthew continued to hold her, occasionally breathing in the scent of her hair. He knew that the only thing that would soothe his soul and help him manage this fear -- aside from knowing, truly knowing, that she wouldn’t lose him like that -- was seeing his Diana again, getting to drink from her heart vein. He hadn’t had a chance to explain about the practice yet and, frankly, he was terrified that he’d go too far and drain her. The only thing letting him even consider tasting her like that was the knowledge that his future self had managed it without hurting her. What’s she always said about not being able to change the past? Well, I’ve already seen her with the scar, so I can’t have lost control, no matter how badly it scares me.

Eventually, Diana started to shift, then seemed to stutter -- suddenly in a different position and in different clothes. She’s gone home, Matthew realized, slightly sad. Be safe.

Diana yawned and turned over, surprised to see Matthew lying down next to her. He hadn’t been here when she’d woken a little earlier.

“Matthew?” she murmured sleepily. “When did you come to bed?”

He smiled sadly at her, stroking her cheek. “Just a little while ago. It’s still dark out, you should go back to sleep.”

Diana sat up, alarmed at his mood. “What’s wrong?” she asked, suddenly very wide awake.

Matthew shook his head. “Nothing, mon coeur. I promise,” he tried reassuring her, but Diana could tell that something was amiss.

She frowned. “Don’t lie to me Matthew. Please. I can see it when you’re not telling me the whole truth,” she insisted, unwilling to budge despite her residual sleepiness and the early hour.

Matthew sighed in resignation. “I swear, there’s nothing wrong. I just had a visitor while you were asleep and it has me feeling...well, feeling strange.” A visitor? But who knows we’re out here who’d have Matthew so rattled? She raised her eyebrow in question. “It was...well, it was you. A future you,” he explained when she didn’t respond.

“And why did that make you feel strange?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I am under strict orders not to share,” he replied, earning him a glare. He sighed. “I promised. But I swear to you, you did nothing to hurt or alarm me. It’s all in my own head.”

Diana studied him for a moment, considering. “So what can I do to help? If you can’t tell me what’s wrong.”

Matthew hesitated for a minute, continuing to look sad and fearful, before finally sighing in surrender. “May I?” he suggested, motioning to remove the oversized t-shirt she was sleeping in. She nodded her assent, eyes wary as he pulled it over her head. Is this about sex? she wondered. But what about sex would have him so reticent?

He reached out and traced his finger over her left breast. “We call this here the heart vein,” he began, voice taking on a dream-like quality. “We vampires keep too many secrets to ever be completely honest. We could never share them all, even without the prohibitions against ‘telling tales’ in vampire society. But we still crave honesty from our lovers, from our mates, even when we’re bound to silence.” He closed his eyes, took a breath, then opened them again, his expression halfway between longing and terror. “The stories you hear about vampires biting people on the neck -- that’s about feeding or dominance. But we hear things, see things, in others’ blood when we drink. The heart vein...to drink there, from your lover, is to know that nothing is hidden.”

Diana inhaled sharply, and felt her heart rate speed up in surprise at his words. The request implicit in his explanation thoroughly shocked her. He wants to feed on me? She remembered all of Sarah’s cautions that she’d dismissed as prejudiced drivel, remembered the dire warnings about vampires stealing witches’ power, then took another breath, forcing herself to relax. That’s not Matthew. He’s not using you. Don’t let all the bigoted nonsense you’ve been told make you question what you know in your heart.

She swallowed, then nodded slowly, considering his words carefully as she decided on a response. “And is this typically reciprocal? Vampire to vampire?” she finally asked, needing to understand the dynamics of the practice. She wasn’t about to let him bite her if it stemmed from some alpha male, misogynistic bullshit, no matter how much she loved him.

Matthew nodded, looking relieved at her calm words and demeanor -- he had to have noticed her initial alarm. “It is. I’d have offered you my blood on Thursday once we were mated, if you were a vampire. I’ve been trying to resist the craving, but...well, it’s proving more difficult than I had anticipated.” He looked at her face, his eyes still unhappy. “I don’t want to hurt you and I hate this about myself, but I can’t seem to help it. The desire to know you -- to know all of you -- is just too strong.”

He thought I’d run away screaming, Diana realized sadly. Despite my professions of love and my acceptance of the mating bond, some part of him still thinks I’ll leave. Oh, Matthew. She considered for a moment, then reached out to kiss him. “Then I want you to do it.”

Matthew reared back in shock. “What? Now?”

Diana watched him for a moment, trying to figure out how to convey her willingness in a way that he’d accept. “I won’t pretend not to be surprised, but honesty is important to me too. So I’m offering.” She reached out to stroke his face, but he pulled away.

Matthew shook his head in agitation. “This isn’t something a vampire does only once,” he objected, moving to stand.

Diana grabbed his hand, making him look her in the face. “I didn’t think it was,” she began carefully, pausing to study him for a moment before continuing. “I give you permission, I want honesty between us. I accept this, if it’s what it means for us to be truly married for you.” She kissed his hand. “I only wish I could do the same with you, to know you in that way.”

Matthew sat there, unmoving, while he made up his mind. Finally, he studied her face for any hint of doubt, of fear. He nodded slowly, then bent down to kiss along the line he’d traced. He took a deep breath in, then bit down hard.

Oh, Diana thought, a small gasp a pain releasing through her lips as she felt the sharp bite of his teeth. Her heart rate spiked, adrenaline coursing through her veins, balanced on a knife’s edge and trying not to panic. Matthew paused and looked up, eyes black and her blood on his lips. He’d stop now, if I asked him to, Diana realized, starting to calm, no matter how hard it was to control himself. She nodded reassuringly, then put her hand on the back of his head, guiding it back to her breast. She closed her eyes, breathing through the discomfort and fear.

After about a minute, Matthew pulled away and kissed the bite, licking it free of any welling blood. He looked up into her eyes, his face shining and happy, then kissed her full on the mouth. She tasted the metallic tang of blood on his tongue. “I love you, Diana,” he whispered against her lips. “More than I could ever possibly express.”

She brushed his hair away from his face, then smiled back at him. “I love you too, Matthew,” she sighed happily, content in the knowledge that he could finally truly understand the feeling behind those words.

Chapter Text

Córdoba, Spain
April 22, 1067

I’ve never seen such beautiful tilework, Diana thought to herself, looking around at the colorful geometric mosaics covering both the floors and several of the visible walls. Just a moment ago, she’d been taking off her coat in Matthew’s rooms after a lovely, if a bit chilly, afternoon of sightseeing along the Thames valley. Now, though, she was outside on a veranda under a warm midday sun. I’m definitely not in England anymore, she realized. Even if the architecture hadn’t been a dead giveaway, the heat immediately ruled out any location on that typically-overcast island. Maybe Morocco? Though most of the regions covered by the former -- or is it current? damn, I’m never going to get used to this -- Islamic caliphates would fit. I should go look for Matthew and ask.

Diana looked down at herself and sighed, disappointed that her clothes were still stubbornly twentieth century, though her hair had suddenly sprouted down the length of her back. It wasn’t the first time she’d jumped back past her own lifetime since the incident with Juliette in New Orleans and her magic had been shockingly unpredictable. At first, she’d hoped that the automatic costume changes were just part of the whole package, but there’d been almost no consistency around what did or didn’t get transformed. Only her necklace had remained untouched thus far. Thank god I managed to retain my bag, she reflected with a relieved sigh. I’d have hated to lose my camera to accidental time travel!

“Who might you be?” Diana heard from behind her. She whirled around, startled, and saw the largest vampire she’d ever encountered standing in front of her. “And just what are you doing in my home, uninvited?” he inquired with quiet menace.

Diana inhaled sharply. “I’m sorry,” she said slowly, keeping an eye on the large vampire and doing her best to sound as unthreatening and apologetic as possible. “My name is Diana...is Matthew here?” Please let him be nearby so he can explain, she silently begged the universe, the fates, anyone who might be listening.

The vampire’s demeanor changed almost instantly, his face splitting into a large grin. “Ah! The lovely Diana -- he’s told me about you. He’s out hunting, but should be back shortly,” he explained with a polite bow. “In his absence, let me introduce myself. I am Hugh de Clermont, Matthew’s brother. Come! Let’s get you out of the heat.” He turned, gesturing to a large doorway.

A shorter, darker-skinned vampire appeared from the direction Hugh had indicated. “Diana, let me introduce you to my mate, Fernando Gonçalves. Fernando, my love, this is Matthew’s Diana.”

Fernando bowed to her in greeting, just like Hugh had done. I need to get etiquette lessons from Matthew when I get back to Oxford, Diana realized, feeling dazed and more than a little overwhelmed. I have no idea how I’m supposed to respond. Fernando cocked his head, listening to something far too distant for Diana’s ears. “I think I hear him returning. Mateus! We have a visitor here to see you,” he called softly, a mischievous grin on his face.

It only took a fraction of a second before Matthew was standing there in front of her. He looked darkly handsome with a full beard and long tunic. His eyes widened in shock at Diana’s unexpected appearance. “You’re here.” He looked stunned for a moment before a wide smile spread across his face. “I’ve missed you.”

Before she could react, Matthew had her in his arms, his face buried in her hair. “It’s good to see you too,” she replied, smiling against his chest. She looked up at him, squinting slightly. “So, where are we? I’m guessing the ninth or tenth century, perhaps Baghdad?”

“We’re in Córdoba and you’re off by about a century,” he corrected with an easy laugh, then glanced nervously over at Fernando. “I don’t have any clothes for you here, I’m sorry. There aren’t any servants here, though, to see or be bothered by your unusual dress. Will that be a problem?”

Diana smiled and shook her head in response. “I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “I don’t mind what I’m wearing, provided it doesn’t cause you any difficulties.”

“Let’s sit down with some refreshments,” Fernando cut in with a chastising look aimed at Matthew. “We can get to know your lovely wife and you two can catch up.” Diana allowed herself to be ushered into a large room, the thick walls providing some necessary protection from the warmth of the day. The wide windows were fully open, allowing light and a cool breeze inside.

Diana accepted a glass of wine and listened as the vampires began to talk amongst themselves. “I received word earlier today that the Duke of Normandy has declared himself King, now that the Saxon forces have fallen,” Matthew commented to Hugh. “Who do you think Philippe will send to keep an eye on William, now that the invasion is over?”

Hugh sighed wearily. “He probably has someone there already, knowing our father,” he mused, sounding resigned. “Though with him and your mother in the Holy Land these days, he’ll likely want a member of the family to go to England personally to supervise the new monarch. I only hope he sends someone besides me -- I do so dislike that damp and gloomy island.”

My god, they’re talking about William the Conqueror and the Battle of Hastings, Diana realized with a jolt. While she’d visited Matthew in France when he was human and she knew, theoretically, just how long ago that was, she’d never experienced this same feeling of sudden awareness of -- from her perspective -- such far distant historical events. It made her head spin, knowing she was almost a thousand years displaced from her own time.

Diana rooted around in her bag for a moment while the vampires continued to discuss politics. Finding her camera, she withdrew it and took a picture of her companions at the table, making them all suddenly stop and stare at her.

Matthew’s eyes were wide and startled. “What in God’s name is that?” he gasped, pointing at the camera.

Diana blushed, realizing at Matthew’s question just how bad of an idea taking the picture had been, but not knowing how to get herself out of the mess without coming clean. “Oh! I’m sorry. It’s...uh...well, it’s a device that records a person’s portrait instantly,” she explained after a moment, hoping it would both be understood and satisfy the vampires’ curiosity. Damn, I’m such an idiot, of course taking a picture would be a bad idea.

“Is it magic?” Hugh asked, peering closely at the camera. “And where is the portrait you created?”

Diana laughed, shaking her head. “No, it’s not magic. Or rather, it’s the kind of magic that humans make with their inventiveness,” she replied slowly, searching for the right words as she spoke. How am I going to explain rolls of film? she wondered, feeling a bit overwhelmed. This was probably a mistake. “As for the end result -- there’s a process to take them out of the device that allows the user to see them, but I have nine more portraits I can capture until it’s ready to be emptied. And I don’t have the necessary tools or materials here to remove them safely, I’m afraid.”

The vampires all nodded, eyes still wide with surprise. It was Matthew who ventured the next question. “Why did you create a portrait of us talking like that? Isn’t it more proper to have the subjects arrayed in more formal poses?”

“Sometimes,” Diana admitted, then paused to think for a moment. God, how do I explain candids to them? “But I also enjoy simple, intimate household scenes. Though we have enough left that we could arrange some more formally.”

Diana moved the vampires into various configurations and combinations, trying to make the most of the exposures she had left. She got a few of Hugh and Fernando alone, then sitting with Matthew. When she finally only had two pictures left, she showed Fernando -- at Hugh’s insistence -- how to work the camera so she and Matthew could have them taken together. The first was done in a typical portrait style -- both subjects facing the camera, with Matthew sitting and Diana standing next to him. Before they could decide what to do with the last picture, however, Matthew pulled Diana down onto his lap and kissed her.

*click*

Matthew and Diana both turned to look at Fernando. “You suggested intimate household scenes,” he said with a shrug and a mischievous glint in his eye. “You’ll thank me later, Matthew.” He handed Diana back the camera, which she immediately put away. That’s enough damage to history for one afternoon, she thought guiltily as she took another sip of wine. She smiled to herself, however, secretly happy that Fernando had taken that last picture.

All Souls College, Oxford
March 13, 1999

Dieu! How am I supposed to get used to this? Matthew wondered, as Diana’s disappearance stretched into its fourth hour. He’d occasionally seen her pop out or back since she started timewalking back in October, but he’d never before seen her gone for so long. It thoroughly unnerved him to have his wife, his mate, somewhere unknown and fending for herself. He thought back to every time he’d prayed for Diana to visit him and kicked himself retroactively -- now realizing that the more time she spent in the past, the less time she’d be here with him in the present.

A heartbeat and a breath from behind caused him to startle and whirl around. Thank God. She was back. Before he fully realized what he was doing, he’d gathered her up in his arms and started murmuring in French, though what he couldn’t later recall.

Diana laughed and pulled him in for a quick kiss. “I’m alright, I’m alright! I promise,” she swore, trying to reassure him. “I was perfectly safe the whole time, though I’m sorry I scared you.”

Matthew took a steadying breath, then took a small step back, though any separation pained him at the moment. “Where were you?” he asked, continuing to search her face for any signs of distress or injury.

She smiled, then reached inside her bag to pull out the camera. “Córdoba. Sometime in the eleventh century, after the Battle of Hastings,” she replied with a smirk. “I’m dying to see how the pictures turned out, especially that last one.”

Dieu, the photographs. He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten. He swallowed, then took the camera, examining it carefully. “I hope the timewalking hasn’t affected the film,” he murmured as he turned the device over in his hands. “Fernando will be heartbroken if the pictures you took are ruined.” He hadn’t actually talked to the man in several years, he realized sadly -- his brother-in-law lived a quiet life and didn’t often involve himself in the family’s business. I hope I’ll have good news for him, then, when we finally do speak again.

Diana crossed her arms and shot him an angry look. “That’s another thing! Why didn’t you tell me about your brother and Fernando?!” she demanded, voice heated in exasperation. “I was raised by two women, it couldn’t be because you think I wouldn’t approve. They were wonderful, I can’t wait to see them again.” Her words caused Matthew’s heart to constrict in his chest.

He put the camera down on the table, then went to sit on the tiny sofa, motioning Diana to join him. “I’m sorry, mon coeur, but Hugh...Hugh died. Many years ago now.” He paused, watching her eyes go wide with surprise. “He and I were close -- he was the sibling I was closest to, in fact, and the one I loved best. Losing him was...well, hard. Very, very hard.”

Diana nodded, reaching out and holding his hand between hers. “Can you tell me what happened?” she asked quietly, clearly regretting her earlier outburst.

Matthew nodded slowly, choosing his words with care. “My father founded a chivalric order during the Crusades called the Knights of Lazarus,” he explained, his eyes fixated on his hands as he spoke. “I think I told you about it when you visited after the Battle of Brandywine?”

He looked up to see her nod in confirmation. “You said you were there escorting the Marquis de Lafayette.”

He swallowed hard, then nodded. Discussing this part of his family’s history was always difficult. “Our original mission was to protect those who could not protect themselves. We fought at the Battle of Acre and helped the Albigensian heretics resist the northerners...and we were heavily involved with the Knights Templar before their dissolution.” The name dropped like a weight into the room. Even now, so many centuries later, remembering the Templars’ tragic end made Matthew feel sick.

Diana waited patiently until he was ready to continue -- it took him far longer than he’d care to admit to anyone except her. “Eventually the church grew jealous and fearful of the Templars’ influence and conspired with the European monarchs to brand them all heretics and traitors. We saved as many as we could and absorbed them into the Brotherhood, but Hugh…” he said, voice trailing off. “Hugh was executed by the French king -- burned at the stake in the fourteenth century. His son refused to step foot in France for centuries afterward.”

“I’m so sorry, Matthew,” she whispered sadly. “I didn’t realize.”

Matthew shook his head. “No, it’s not your fault -- you couldn’t have known. I probably should have told you before now. I just didn’t want you to have to carry that when you met him,” he explained, softly stroking her cheek. “As difficult as losing my brother was, meeting someone you know to be dead in your own time who you’d expect to still be alive...I’d imagine that’s a challenge all its own. I was worried that you’d have a hard time keeping it entirely to yourself. And if you did...that it would make the experience of meeting him, getting to know and like him, especially difficult or painful. I wanted to save you that grief.”

Diana nodded slowly, clearly considering her next words carefully. “I understand...but Matthew? Please don’t try to shield me from your pain or grief. I can handle it -- you shouldn’t have to carry it all alone.”

Matthew kissed her. “I promise to try.” He gave her a small, sad smile. “But it’s hard to teach an old vampire like me new tricks.”

“Old, huh?” Diana teased, before pulling him in for a kiss of her own. “You don’t look so old to me.”

Matthew growled lightly against her lips, showing his appreciation for the change in mood. “How about I take you into the bedroom and show you just how many tricks I’ve picked up over the years,” he retorted, smirking down at her.

Diana kissed him again. “Count me in.”

The Old Lodge, Woodstock
March 14, 1999

Matthew sat at his desk, the developed photographs in his hands, as he contemplated his next phone call. There had been no damage to the film, much to his relief. He hadn’t wanted to hand the roll over to someone else to develop, so he’d come to Woodstock early that morning to attempt it himself. But the thought of calling Fernando gave him pause.

He knew his brother-in-law would appreciate the pictures of Hugh -- there was no question on that score. Fernando had contacted him more than a century ago, asking after them. He’d recognized an early camera as a precursor to Diana’s device and demanded the resulting photographs, knowing that Matthew would have access to them once he and Diana found each other in her present. No, what Matthew worried about was the resulting injury to Fernando’s soul. Losing one’s mate forever damaged the vampire...and reminders of the loss slowly chipped away at what was left.

Sighing, he took one last look at the image of him kissing Diana, then put the pictures down and pulled out his mobile phone. It won’t get any easier the longer I delay, he reminded himself.

Fernando answered on the second ring. “Mateus?” he asked in greeting, recognizing Matthew’s number. “What is it?”

Matthew ran a hand through his hair, trying to decide how to share the news. “I have something for you,” he began, matter of fact. “You’ll need to come to Oxford -- or perhaps I can have Alain deliver it -- but I don’t want to trust it to the mail.”

Matthew could hear Fernando’s resigned sigh on the other end of the line. “And what do you have for me that’s so sensitive or valuable that you don’t trust DHL or the Royal Mail?” he objected, sounding tired. “I’m not interested in getting involved with the Brotherhood again, if that’s what you’re after.”

“It’s not that,” Matthew promised, pausing for a moment. Might as well just come out and say it. “I have the pictures -- the ones of you and Hugh. I just developed the film this morning.”

Silence greeted this pronouncement. Matthew wondered for a minute whether the call had gotten disconnected before Fernando came back on the line. “I’ll be in Oxford this afternoon, perhaps this evening, depending on the flight,” he rasped, voice rough with emotion. “And thank you, Mateus.”

Matthew closed his eyes and shook his head. “No, you should be thanking Diana,” he protested. “She’s the one crazy enough to bring a camera out and start taking pictures in eleventh century Spain. I just developed the film.”

“You remembered your promise,” Fernando countered, still sounding overcome. “And in doing so, brought a small piece of him back to me.”

“I’d have done so, regardless. I’d never have kept them from you. But now I need something from you,” he told Fernando, unable to keep the worry from his voice no matter how hard he tried. “Keep the pictures secret for now? Don’t even tell Gallowglass. We haven’t caught the Congregation’s notice just yet -- nor Baldwin’s, thank God -- and the longer I can delay, the better.”

Fernando sighed sadly. “Oh Matthew. There are already rumors, I don’t think you have much time left.” Matthew stilled, not even breathing, terrified of what he’d hear next. “I should have known this call was coming once I heard them, but the names of the parties involved weren’t attached to the gossip. I won’t show them to anyone, I promise. Please tread carefully, though, you’re already on dangerous ground.”

This news chilled Matthew to his core -- he still had no idea how he was going to keep Diana safe once they were exposed and their relationship became common knowledge. He ran a hand through his hair yet again, making it stand fully on end. “I promise, Fernando. I’ll see you this afternoon,” he sighed before disconnecting the call.

Dieu. What am I going to do? he wondered, knowing that he’d need a plan soon, but having no earthly idea of how to get them out of this mess. Damn the Congregation. Damn them all to hell.

Chapter Text

Oxford University, United Kingdom
March 19, 1999

Matthew stood outside the Bodleian, watching as Diana disappeared inside for the day. He still hadn’t convinced her to accept a mobile phone, making him nervous about leaving her alone for so long. What if someone tries to hurt her while I’m out here? She’s got so little control over her magic, she wouldn’t be able to defend herself, he worried.

Not helping matters, he had been plagued by a recurring nightmare – or was it a memory? he’d never been entirely sure – since shortly after he’d been reborn. In it, he was out at night on one of his first solo hunting excursions. It started so well: he’d been positively giddy, filled with the joy and exhilaration at being allowed out, at the freedom to run, hunt, chase. As he’d been about to pounce on a stag, a terrified, bleeding warmblood appeared in a nearby clearing and began to run away. He hadn’t gotten a good look, but the sound of her pounding heart, the smell of blood and adrenaline, proved too much and he gave chase. As he brought her down, sinking teeth into vulnerable flesh, he realized it was Diana. The next thing he’d known was when he awoke on the forest floor, the sweet taste of blood on his lips. In all the passing centuries, he’d tried convincing himself, despite his persistent doubts, that it only was a fever dream caused by his blood rage and the knowledge of her many scars. And there was no way he could be sure, not until the worst happened. But you started having this nightmare before you remember ever seeing the scar on her neck. And her blood tastes so familiar on your tongue, his traitorous mind supplied. He shuddered, trying to banish the disturbing thoughts – they’d almost been enough to drive him mad since their return from Ireland. Only Diana’s presence at his side and in his bed had been enough to keep them at bay. Her time in the Bodleian, unfortunately, had only served to feed his anxieties.

“Does Diana know you’ve been skipping work at the lab in favor of guard duty outside the library?” inquired a familiar voice. Matthew jumped, startled, and turned to see his best friend standing next to him. He hadn’t heard the other vampire approach, so intent had he been on his mate’s retreating form.

“No,” Matthew admitted with a wince. “I don’t want her to feel smothered.”

Bertrand shook his head ruefully. “And how do you think she’s going to feel once she figures out how you’ve been spending your time?”

Matthew shuddered. He knew she’d be angry, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. “Did Miriam send you down here?” he asked, trying to change the subject.

“She may have mentioned you’d made yourself even scarcer than usual,” Bertrand laughed, eyes crinkling in amusement at the situation. “Though her exact words were a tad more colorful. I’m sure you don’t need me to elaborate.”

Matthew groaned. “I can only imagine.” He’d known Miriam for almost as long as he’d known Bertrand, but where his best friend was practically impossible to anger, the vampire’s mate had a sharp temper, an even sharper tongue, could hold a grudge for centuries if properly motivated, and never forgot a personal slight. She was as brilliant as she was impossible, though, and he depended on her scientific expertise for his research. Merde. How am I supposed to keep Miriam happy while also looking after Diana?

The dilemma must have shown on his face because Bertrand laughed again, clapping a hand on Matthew’s shoulder. “Lucky for you, I have a solution to your problem. I’ll stand sentry here while you go to the lab. I’ll keep an eye on the entrances, follow her to lunch, and only leave once you’re back at the end of the day.”

Matthew stared at his friend for a moment, mouth agape, before answering. “Bertrand...that’s perfect. I can’t thank you enough.”

Bertrand held up his hand, pausing the outpouring of gratitude. “But you have to tell her before Monday. I refuse to stalk this poor woman without her consent.” He stared at Matthew until he nodded his assent. “Good – now go. I don’t want to hear about it from Miriam if you’re late.” Matthew nodded and sped off in the opposite direction, dreading the needling he’d likely be getting from both the vampires in the lab, but also grateful for his best friend’s help. Their research was important, even if having Diana around made it difficult for him to remember that at times.

Later that evening, Diana stood in her rooms contemplating her packing. “Are you sure you want to continue living in college?” Matthew asked as she moved a pile of folded clothes from the dresser onto her bed. “We could move into the Old Lodge or I could find us someplace closer to campus.” They’d spent every night together since the trip to Ireland, switching off between his rooms and hers, but neither had truly sufficient room for both creatures, especially when you included all their belongings. Diana knew Matthew’s suggestion was the right one – the smart one – but she loved her assigned lodgings at New College and didn’t want to leave.

Matthew came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist as he kissed his way down her neck. “More space...more privacy,” he whispered into her ear, making her shiver. “Are you sure I can’t convince you?”

Diana hummed happily. “As lovely as that sounds, I don’t want to miss anything about the grad school experience. Most of us only get to do it once, you know.” Matthew’s hands went still and Diana almost slapped herself in frustration. Shit. You know Matthew has a hard time with any reminders of your mortality, she thought. “Besides,” she added, her tone deliberately light, “it’s nice being so close to the library and the river. Saves me loads of time commuting that I can instead spend with you.”

Diana turned around and placed a kiss on his lips. “Well, I can hardly argue with that,” Matthew replied, a crooked smile playing across his face.

He picked up a small, round case that she’d placed on the bed, eyebrow raised in a question. Diana flushed with mortification. Talking about birth control had been necessary early on in her past relationships, but it had never come up with Matthew – never needed to come up, really. Crap, this is so awkward. “I take the pills continuously to avoid getting my period,” she explained with a blush. “I have since I was in my teens. As an athlete, it helped my performance if I wasn’t dealing with bloating and painful cramps every few weeks.”

Matthew put it back down and used one cool hand to stroke her cheek. “There’s no need to be embarrassed,” he told her gently. “For one, I am a doctor – there’s very little I haven’t seen over the centuries. And even if I weren’t, I love you, Diana. There’s nothing you could say or do to change that – the realities of warmblooded biology aren’t about to scare me off now.”

Diana nodded, taking in his words. “And that’s all it is anymore, right? A way of managing my cycle?” she asked tentatively. “I’ve been assuming that you can’t get me pregnant, but I realize I haven’t actually asked. It didn’t seem terribly relevant, given that I was already on the pill.”

Matthew thought for a moment before answering. “No, you’re right. Vampires reproduce through resurrection, not procreation.” He looked like he wanted to say more, but shook his head. “Take your pills,” he said before nuzzling his face in her hair and breathing deep. “And if you run out or need a new prescription, let me know and I’ll get more for you.”

“Thank you,” Diana replied, closing her eyes for a moment while she enjoyed the feeling of his body close against hers. They stood there for a minute before she pulled away, determined to finish her packing before it got too late. “You should bring some of your things over,” she suggested, motioning to a dresser nearby. “I cleared out a few drawers for you, so you don’t have to go all the way back to your rooms to change when we stay here.”

“I’d like that, thank you mon coeur.” Matthew walked over to her closet to grab her duffle, which hid his small smile. He lifted the bag for her to see. “Is this the one you wanted to use?” He grimaced when she nodded. “I should get you some proper luggage. This thing is practically falling apart.”

“I promise, this is fine,” she laughed. She’d gotten used to Matthew threatening to buy things for her in the last few months and knew he’d run wild with the gifts if she let him. He pursed his lips in disagreement, but didn’t say anything. Her hands stilled as she started filling the bag. I should probably tell him what happened today, she reflected. I’ve put it off as long as I can, but he’s bound to find out if I avoid it for too long.

“What is it?” he asked, noticing her change in mood. His hands came up to her shoulders in support.

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” she responded immediately, before hesitating briefly. You know it’s not nothing, why did you say that? “It’s just...I think some of the witches in the Oxford coven might have noticed us.”

Matthew went stock still at her words. “What makes you think that?” He sounded a bit shaken.

“It’s just a feeling...nothing overt, really. But I haven’t been invited to the Ostara celebrations next week and they always made a point of inviting me to things before, even when I always declined.” She took another breath, steeling herself, knowing what she was about to say would upset him. “And, well...I’ve been getting some hostile looks in the library. Witches who used to ignore me or share nothing but polite pleasantries have gone out of their way to glare at me sometimes when I’m in there. Even Sean has noticed,” she confessed, blushing slightly in embarrassment.

“How long has this been going on?” Matthew demanded, looking murderous.

Diana took a step back, eyes wary. “Just a few days. I thought I was imagining it at first.” Why is he so furious all of a sudden? I knew this would worry him, but this seems like a big overreaction. She knew he was protective, but she couldn’t remember ever seeing him so enraged before. “What’s wrong?”

“What changed?” he bit out, ignoring her question.

“Nothing, Matthew – I swear,” she promised, hoping it would help him calm down. “It was just me noticing the date and the lack of invitation that made me put it all together.” He took a steadying breath, but didn’t ask any more questions, so she decided to try again. “Matthew, what’s wrong? Why did this make you so mad? I know we’re breaking the rules, but I expected you to be worried, not angry.”

“I told you, Diana, vampires are protective of their mates.” He took another steadying breath, clearly trying to calm himself. “The thought of you, alone, being threatened by other witches is enough to make me want to go out and kill every last one of them.”

Her face contorted in surprise. “But nobody threatened me. A few nasty looks isn’t worth killing anyone over,” she insisted.

Matthew sighed. “Given that our relationship is a violation of the covenant, any negative attention is potentially a threat,” he explained carefully. “All it takes is one complaint in the wrong ear for things to spiral out of control. I don’t want you going to the library alone anymore.”

Diana was suddenly the one who was furious. What?! No. How am I supposed to do my work if I can’t go to the library? “Matthew, no. I need access to the library or else I won’t be able to complete my courses. I am not going to drop out of grad school just because some nosy witches disapprove of our relationship!”

Her fingers were tingling and she looked down to see them sparking blue. Her eyes went wide and she moved toward the kitchen. “Not the sink!” Matthew cried, blocking her way. “They smell electrical.” Her eyes blazed at him and he took a step back, raising his hands. “I wasn’t suggesting you stay out of the library,” he reassured her, voice soft and soothing. The blue in her hands started to fade. “Just that you bring someone with you while you’re there, in case there’s trouble.”

Diana took a breath, deliberately calming herself as she processed Matthew’s words. She finally nodded. “Who? I’ve already got Sean looking after me.”

Matthew shook his head. “I’d feel better if it was someone who could defend you – Sean may be your friend, but he’s no match for a creature who might want to do you harm.”

“So who?” she demanded, hands going to her hips in frustration.

“Bertrand for now,” he said slowly. Watching me for signs of another magical eruption, no doubt, she thought sourly. “He can be there when I’m needed in the lab.”

Diana raised her eyebrows in surprise. “And Miriam won’t mind?”

Matthew shook his head. “No, Bertrand’s been on guard duty before. Though never for a witch,” he explained with a small laugh.

Diana nodded her head. “Alright,” she finally agreed, letting Matthew sweep her up into a fierce hug. “I doubt it’s going to be necessary, but I’ll allow it, if it brings you peace of mind.” She tried to ignore the vague premonition of danger that followed her words as she relaxed into Matthew’s arms. It’ll all be fine, she insisted to herself.

Chapter Text

Bodleian Library, Oxford
May 12, 1999

“Miss Bishop?” Diana heard a male voice ask, feeling the slight tingle of a witch’s gaze on the top of her head.

“Yes?” she replied, warily, as she looked up from her work. An older wizard in a dark brown tweed jacket had approached her, but she didn’t think she’d ever seen him before. For the past two months, the only contact she’d had with other witches were the angry glares and occasional muttering of "traitor" too low for anyone but her to hear. Well, me and my security detail, she thought, hoping none of the other witches she’d come across had noticed just how closely she was being watched by vampires.

“Might I invite you out for some coffee?” he inquired, voice kept suitably low for the library, tone carefully neutral. “I’d like the chance to talk about your present predicament,” he specified when she didn’t immediately respond, eyes flicking to Bertrand a few tables away.

“I’m sorry, but I’m busy,” Diana claimed after a slight pause, indicating the books and papers in front of her. And the last thing I want to do is get interrogated about my relationship with Matthew by an unfamiliar witch, no matter how friendly he’s trying to seem. “It’s the middle of term and I have a paper to finish.” She went back to writing in her notebook before pausing again -- the male wizard was still standing in the exact same spot, despite her clear dismissal and obvious disinterest in his presence. “What?” she snapped, getting annoyed.

“I’m not sure you fully understand the...situation...you find yourself in,” he commented delicately. The ‘situation’? Like a relationship with a vampire is something distasteful or embarrassing. What a load of bigoted bullshit. “And as someone with a longstanding acquaintance with your mother, I feel as if it’s my duty to explain before you find yourself in even greater difficulty.”

“I don’t think it’s any of your business,” Diana retorted a touch too loudly. A few of the other readers looked up and glared at her. She lowered her voice. “And if you knew my mother as well as you implied, you’d also know that I’d say the same to her. Now please leave me alone.”

“Miss Bishop --” he started, hand coming down to touch her arm. A sense of pressure started in the base of her skull, causing her to wince in pain. Get out of my head!

“I’ll ask you to take your hands off of her,” Bertrand insisted from behind her, voice menacing. “Right. Now.”

The man took a step back, eyes flashing and angry. “This isn’t over,” he bit out, before finally leaving. Diana and Bertrand stayed still, watching him as he walked out, until he was finally out of sight.

Diana breathed a sigh of relief and hung her head. Who the hell was that? she wondered. She knew it was only a matter of time before her relationship with Matthew attracted the wrong kind of notice, but she hadn’t expected to be ambushed like that in the middle of the Bodleian. But Matthew did, she realized, suddenly understanding why he’d been so worried the last six weeks. That’s why he wanted Bertrand to come with me while he was in the lab. Damn.

She looked up again as she heard Bertrand packing up her things. “I’m taking you back to your rooms,” he explained when she gave him a questioning glance. “There’s something going on, something bigger than one witch deciding to harass you in the library, I can practically smell it. I want you out of here as quickly as possible.”

Diana nodded, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. What have I gotten myself into?

“I should go with you tomorrow,” Matthew argued, despite the angry look on his wife’s face. “I don’t like leaving you unprotected, especially after that wizard ambushed you in the library this afternoon.” Bertrand had thoroughly briefed Matthew on the situation, providing details even Diana hadn’t shared with him. When the invitation to pre-dinner drinks in the warden’s office arrived at her rooms a few hours later, it had set off all of his internal alarm bells.

Diana shook her head. “Matthew, you can’t. You haven’t been invited and if, by some miracle, this meeting isn’t to chastise me for breaking the rule on grad students dating the faculty, the last thing I want to do is wave it in their faces.” Her mouth was set in a stubborn line, determined not to give an inch.

He growled softly. “We aren’t dating. You’re my wife. And as such, I have a right to be there, if I want, even by the impossibly fussy standards of Professor Nicholas Walsh, warden of New College.” And I refuse to apologize for trying to keep you safe.

She sighed, exasperated. “Not according to Oxford University, I’m not. You might consider me your wife -- and I do also, so please stop glaring at me like that, Matthew -- but until we make it legal, they’re not going to agree.” He ran his hands through his hair as she spoke, feeling thoroughly overwhelmed.

Diana turned her back and started pacing. “I have worked so hard to establish myself here, to separate my reputation from my mother’s,” she started to explain. “And I love you Matthew, but I don’t want to ruin my career before it’s even gotten started. Allegations of an improper sexual relationship with a member of the faculty could follow me forever, even once we’re able to be publicly, legally married.”

“We’re not even in the same department!” Matthew exploded, furious that she was so unwilling to let him protect her with the kind of clear and present danger that the unknown witch represented. “Why would they care? I don’t supervise your research, you’re not in any of my classes. Hell, I don’t even teach any classes! If anyone should get in trouble for our relationship, it’s me. After all, I’m the one on the faculty -- you’re just a student.”

Diana gave him a withering glance. “You don’t really think that’s how it works, do you?” she retorted, audibly frustrated now. “You’re famous in certain circles. You were just elected to the Royal Society, for god’s sake. Your research on wolves has garnered a lot of positive attention for the university. Hell, my best friend -- who lives on another continent -- knew who you were, even before I told him we were together. There’s absolutely no way that you get in trouble for this relationship. Worst case scenario for you is that you get a minor slap on the wrist and it’s swept under the rug.”

“I’m scared,” she admitted in a whisper. Matthew’s fury cooled at the look of worry and fear on her face. He walked over and wrapped her in his arms, determined not to let his anger come between them. “There are so many subtle ways to punish me, even without an official reprimand. Many of which would be impossible for me to overcome, if I want to stay in academia.”

“So what are you saying, Diana? Do you want to hide our relationship? Stop being seen in public together? Stop living together?” His heart was heavy, terrified she’d say yes. If she does, I’ll do my best to honor her wishes, he thought to himself, no matter how badly it rips my guts out.

She looked up at him, pulling away slightly. “No, of course not,” she responded with a small frown. “I just don’t want to rub their noses in it, as I said earlier. Which means responding to invitations as they’re written -- not flaunting that we’re breaking the rules by bringing you to places or events you wouldn’t normally be welcome.”

Matthew let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. He nodded slowly. “Alright,” he finally conceded, despite the terror it inspired. “I won’t insist on attending tomorrow. But I’ll be waiting for you in your rooms once you’re done.”

“Thank you,” Diana said, squeezing his hand reassuringly. “I promise I won’t linger.”

He kissed her hair, breathing in her scent and letting it calm him. She’ll be fine, he told himself, trying to ignore the vague feelings of doom in the pit of his stomach. She’ll be fine.

May 13, 1999

Diana walked into the warden’s inner office and stopped dead. The wizard in brown tweed from the library was standing there, a drink in his hand, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. You smug asshole.

Walsh gestured to the man when he saw Diana notice him. “This is Peter Knox, he’s been wanting to meet you. He’s a good friend of your mother’s, apparently." Unsure of how to proceed, Diana shook Knox’s hand as if it were any other social occasion. She suddenly wished she’d agreed to let Matthew invite himself along, faux pas or no.

“I was so surprised when Peter here told me who your mother is!” Walsh chattered excitedly, not noticing her discomfort. “I had no idea you were Rebecca Bishop’s daughter. Harvard’s Anthropology department is so lucky to have her. Are you thinking about following in your mother’s footsteps by going into academia?”

Diana flushed with anger. Not only had Knox ambushed her in the library, he’d taken a wrecking ball to the careful walls she’d erected between her reputation and her mother. “Something like that,” she responded as pleasantly as she could, swallowing bile. She was having serious difficulty keeping a polite smile on her face. “Though I’m doing my best to establish my own academic reputation, separate from my mother’s. I don’t like to trade on her name.”

“Of course, of course! How admirable,” the white-haired old man exclaimed, continuing his excited babbling as the phone rang. He finally excused himself to go answer it, much to Diana’s relief, despite the fact that it meant she was now alone with the man who’d manipulated her into this entire situation. On second thought, I’d much rather Professor Walsh hurry back, even if it means pretending I don’t mind him asking about Mom.

He leaned in, keeping his voice quiet as the other man left the room. “I apologize for luring you here unexpectedly, but I felt we got off on the wrong foot in the Bodleian yesterday and I wanted a chance to talk to you without being overheard.”

“What could we possibly have to talk about?” Diana whispered repressively, glaring daggers at the wizard.

He seemed to find this amusing. “A great many things,” he offered enigmatically before raising his glass to his lips. Diana looked over at the door, concerned. “Nicholas will be busy until we’re through,” Knox assured her.

“So that was you, was it?” She gestured at the closed door, behind which the warden chattered quietly on the phone.

Knox made a disapproving clicking sound and set down his glass. “Come now, Miss Bishop, let’s not play games. I need to know the nature of your relationship with Matthew Clairmont. There have been complaints.”

“Complaints?” Diana huffed indignantly, knowing that stalling would do her no good, but attempting to anyway. “What kind of complaints?”

He gave an exasperated sigh. “Fine, I’ll play along. You’re accused of consorting with vampires, specifically with Matthew Clairmont and his associates -- of breaking the covenant. I came to Oxford to ascertain the truth of the matter and put a stop to it, if necessary.” He paused for a moment. “What I’ve seen thus far has been most alarming.”

Fuck. While having Matthew with her would likely have inflamed the situation beyond repair, she still wished he’d insisted on accompanying her. Knox was making her feel extremely uneasy. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” she retorted with more bravado than she felt.

He gave her a look of withering contempt. “Witches and vampires don’t mix, Miss Bishop. There are excellent reasons for it. You’d do well to remember who you are. If you don’t, you will regret it.”

“I know exactly --” Diana started, but Knox cut her off, ignoring her words.

“How do you think your mother would react if she knew her daughter was spending so much time with one of those animals? If she knew you were romantically involved with one of them?” he sneered nastily.

That does it, I refuse to be bullied by this asshole. “If you were actually friends with my mother, you’d know that I don’t give two shits about what she thinks about my life. She can fuck right back off to Africa for all I care and so can you.”

Knox narrowed his eyes, letting his voice drop to a silky taunt. “And what of your father? How would he react to you throwing your life away like this? You can’t survive without your ties to other witches -- he found that out the hard way.”

Diana paused, shocked to her core. “What are you talking about?” She shook her head in confusion. “My father was killed by scared, superstitious humans while he was on another continent. What did his relationships with other witches have to do with anything?”

He laughed, a nasty, practically leering, expression on his face. “Stephen Proctor wasn’t killed by humans,” he claimed, making Diana’s breath catch in her throat. “If he had been, they’d have been caught and dealt with. Your father was keeping secrets from other witches, just like you are now. We needed to discover them. His death was unfortunate, but necessary. It would be truly unfortunate for two such prominent bloodlines to disappear with you, if you’re determined to follow in his footsteps.”

“Stop talking about my father as though he belongs to you,” Diana snarled in a rush, control finally snapping. She felt the tips of her fingers begin to itch, though thankfully no blue started sparking from her fingers. The smug look on Knox’s face, however, made it obvious that he’d noticed her unintentional magical outburst. “He was killed by humans. And you have no right to use his memory against me now.”

Knox studied her for a moment. “Was he really? I don’t think so,” he commently drily, one lip curled up in a slight smile. “As a witch, you’d know if I were lying to you.” He flicked his hand, undoing the spell keeping Professor Walsh occupied. “I’d be careful, Diana, or else every witch in Oxford will soon know you for a traitor.”

I should have gone with her, Matthew thought to himself for the hundredth -- thousandth? -- time since Diana had left for her meeting with the warden. He knew Nicholas Walsh and couldn’t imagine him doing anything to hurt Diana -- either physically or professionally. The man was good natured and had a reputation for fairness, but something about the situation had Matthew’s nerves practically standing on end. I should have gone with her and damn the consequences. At least I wouldn’t be standing here wondering if she was alright.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he finally heard her on the landing. She’s here. She’s safe. You can relax. She’s fine. He found himself at the door with no conscious memory of moving as she unlocked the door, his blood running cold at the expression on her face and the scent of adrenaline bleeding off of her as she entered her rooms. “What happened?” he asked as he took a quick look on her landing, then bolted the door behind her.

Diana swallowed and took a seat, putting her head in her hands. “That wizard from the library, the one who ambushed me yesterday -- he’s the reason I received that invitation. He’s a friend of Professor Walsh’s and claimed he was also a friend of my mom’s. He used Walsh to lure me there, so he could force me to talk to him -- uninterrupted this time without Bertrand to keep him on his best behavior.” She took a steadying breath, but Matthew noticed her hands were trembling uncontrollably.

Matthew went perfectly still. “What did he want? What did he do?” He kept his voice as neutral as possible, despite his sudden flush of rage. Something beyond the wizard’s appearance at the meeting had her rattled and he didn’t want to cause her any more distress.

“He wanted to know about my relationship with you,” she shared in a shaky voice, looking up at Matthew. “Then he tried to scare me into complying when I told him to go to hell.”

Matthew could smell that Diana was scared, but she didn’t seem to be injured. He knelt in front of her and took her shaking hand in his to steady her. “What did he do?” he asked softly once she’d calmed down a bit.

“Knox called me a traitor then implied my father had been killed by other witches, not humans. He made some creepy comment about not wanting to see my parents’ bloodlines die out with me.” Diana let out an explosive breath. “I’m so confused. I don’t know what to believe.”

“Knox?” Matthew repeated, trying to convince himself he’d heard wrong.

Diana gave a small, huffing laugh. “Yeah, sorry. He said his name was Peter Knox -- but I’m pretty sure he lied to the warden about being a friend of my mom’s,” she babbled, shaking her head. Noticing the expression on his face, though, she stopped cold. “What? Matthew, what’s wrong?”

He swallowed, ordering his thoughts before he answered. Peter Knox threatened Diana, called her a traitor. Christ. “He’s the senior witch on the Congregation,” he explained, voice gone dead. “If he’s noticed us, if he’s threatening you...Dieu, you’re not safe here in Oxford. Not anymore.”

Diana looked at him, eyes taking in his raised hackles and the hand making his hair stand on end. “Not just me -- I don’t think either of us are safe here with that creature sniffing around. But the question is: what do we do about it?”

He gathered her into a fierce hug. “I don’t know, mon coeur, but I’ll try to think of something. I promise, I won’t let him harm you. No matter what he claims.” He felt her relax into his embrace at his reassurance. This scared her even worse than she let herself admit.

Chapter Text

Oxford University, United Kingdom
June 9, 1999

“She has no idea how much danger the two of you are in, does she?” Bertrand asked, startling Matthew out of his preoccupied staring. Diana was sitting in one of the glass-enclosed offices in the lab, completing a paper due at the end of term next week, while Matthew watched, a worried hand running through his hair every few minutes. She’d been working there instead of the Bodleian whenever possible, ever since Knox ambushed her the previous month. Matthew had loved having her so near, though Miriam’s acerbic comments regarding ‘distractions in the lab’ hadn’t gone unnoticed by anyone, least of all Diana. He knew Miriam’s barbs embarrassed her, but they were all stuck until a more permanent solution could be found.

Matthew turned to his friend, eyes bleak. “No. She’s accepted that Knox and his harassment are likely to continue being a bother if we stay in Oxford for the summer, but I don’t think she has any idea of his reach,” he replied, the answer weighing heavy on his heart. “The only good thing about the whole situation is that the bastard hasn't reported our covenant violations to the rest of the Congregation. He seems to be holding back and trying to take care of it all by himself. I just wish I knew why -- it makes no bloody sense.”

Bertrand gave him a look of surprise. “How can you be so sure? Do you have an inside source of information that I’m unaware of?”

Matthew laughed bitterly. “No. I just know that I’ll be getting an irate call from Baldwin the second he hears. You know how he feels about witches -- and me.” Bertrand nodded, clearly unsurprised by Matthew’s reasoning. Baldwin’s enmity for his younger step-brother was well known, especially among the de Clermont family’s close friends and allies. Bertrand had borne witness to more than a millennium of their squabbles, some with deadly consequences.

Matthew shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair yet again. He knew he was beginning to look like a demented hedgehog, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. “She’s still convinced that going to Madison for a few weeks will be enough to make him lose interest,” he told his friend. “And that we’ll be back in time for term in the Fall.” The prospect of his extended absence, coupled with Diana’s near-constant presence in the lab, had made Miriam even more cranky than usual -- she disliked having her research timelines disrupted, so the past nine months had been...well, ’challenging’ was probably the nicest way to describe it.

Bertrand shook his head. “But you know how unrealistic that is. So, why haven’t you told her?”

Matthew sighed, hanging his head. “I’ve tried. But short of deliberately scaring her, I’m not sure how to make her believe me. And she’s stubborn enough to dig in her heels when she disagrees. She still thinks of the Congregation like a modern institution: you break the rules, you get sent a summons and it goes from there -- with punishments ranging from fines to imprisonment, depending on the severity of the infraction,” he explained, sounding tired, even to his own ears. The last few months had been a struggle balancing Diana’s expectations and the new reality in which they now found themselves. “That’s the world she’s grown up in, so it’s hard for her to fathom a society that still operates by largely medieval rules.”

“So, what are you going to do?” Bertrand pressed. That was the crux of the matter and why Matthew had been so preoccupied lately. He was out of ideas.

“I don’t know,” Matthew finally admitted after a long pause. “I’m hoping other witches, ones she trusts anyway -- like her aunts or Amira -- can convince her where I’ve failed.”

Bertrand turned to face Matthew, a look of disbelief on his face. “Christ, Matthew...I love you like a brother, but you’re a giant idiot sometimes, especially where your wife is concerned. You don’t want to scare her?” he asked, his voice as biting and sarcastic as Matthew had ever heard it. “Well, one of you ending up dead will do a lot more than scare her.”

Matthew’s growl had Miriam looking up at them in alarm. “Nobody is going to so much as touch Diana,” he protested, deadly quiet. “I don’t care if I have to kill every single creature on the Congregation to keep her safe.”

Bertrand rolled his eyes. “Don’t growl at me, you know I’m right,” he observed briskly, clearly unafraid of Matthew’s temper, making it flare even brighter. “And you also know that killing your way through the members of the Congregation won’t actually help or you’d have done so already.”

Matthew’s eyes shifted slightly. “I considered it,” he confessed, remembering all the should-haves and meant-tos that had been going through his head since Knox’s arrival in Oxford. “Not long after the Great War. I could tell we were starting to catch up to Diana’s present and I wanted the covenant abolished and the Congregation disbanded before I found her. But then Germany started to collapse and fighting broke out again in Europe and Philippe…” Matthew’s voice trailed off. It still hurt him more than he could express to talk about Philippe and his death, even more than half a century after the fact.

Bertrand cocked his head quizzically. “How’d you know you were getting close?” His surprise was evident in his tone. “You never mentioned anything. And there have been some pretty radical societal changes in the last eighty years.”

Matthew laughed quietly, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. “It was the undergarments -- as soon as stays and corsets were replaced by brassieres, I knew it was only a matter of time.” He shook his head, remembering. “I can’t tell you how confused I was the first time I saw one. Spandex might as well have been magic, as far as I was concerned.”

Bertrand laughed with him. “Christ, I can only imagine!” he said, chuckling. “Though that probably had as much to do with the fact that your beloved was a witch as the fabric and construction of her undergarments.”

Matthew gave his friend a lopsided smile. “Perhaps so,” he confessed cheekily.

“That’s enough locker room talk, boys,” a high, melodic voice cut in from behind them. Miriam gave her husband a look of annoyance before turning to Matthew and handing him a few sheets of paper. “We have bad data somewhere in these results,” she commented without preamble.

Matthew looked down and saw Diana’s DNA results, along with a few other witches’ with which they’d been working on identifying magical markers. He frowned. “What do you mean?” he demanded, as he read through the pages.

Miriam sighed. “I was sure that we’d identified the timewalking gene. See here.” She pointed down at one of the sheets. “We’ve cross-referenced with these other samples and from historical accounts.”

Matthew, still frowning, looked up at her. “So, what’s the issue?” he protested, trying to hurry Miriam along to her point. She could be remarkably circuitous when she wanted to make trouble and he couldn’t read her current mood.

She pointed at the diagram beneath Diana’s name. “It’s not here,” she snapped, eyes flashing with temper. “According to these results, Diana should not be able to timewalk.”

Matthew stared down at the page, then up at Miriam dumbly. “But we know she can. For God’s sake, we’ve all seen her do it!” he exclaimed, voice rising in frustration. Diana turned to look at them, a question on her face. He waved at her reassuringly and declined to speak until she went back to her work. “We must have identified the wrong marker, then.”

Miriam shook her head. “I thought of that, but I don’t see how. We’ve got enough samples from known timewalkers and it all matches up, aside from Diana, that is. See?” she said, pointing at yet more sheets of paper. “I don’t know how, but we’ve got bad data in here somewhere. A sample got tainted or the historical accounts were incorrect.”

Matthew sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Alright. We can’t do much about the historical accounts, but let’s try taking new specimens where we can to see if anything changes,” he suggested, shaking his head. “Diana and I have yoga tonight with Amira -- I can ask her then if she and the others from the class would be willing to come back in and give us some new samples.”

Miriam nodded. “I’ll get started on what we’ve got in the lab already,” she offered before walking off. “And get back to work! Diana isn’t letting you distract her from her studies -- you should follow her example,” she called back to him.

Matthew grimaced and turned to Bertrand. “She’s never going to let this go, is she?”

Bertrand laughed and clapped Matthew’s shoulder. “When has she ever?”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” Matthew sighed, resigned, before going back to his office. At least I can hear Diana. I know where she is, I know that she’s safe. I should just be thankful that she’s here with me and not in the library, he told himself as he unsuccessfully tried to concentrate on his work.

New College, Oxford
June 10, 1999

It’s probably for the best that we’re leaving for Madison next week, Diana thought to herself as she walked from Matthew’s lab to her rooms. Bertrand was walking with her, a discreet reminder of Amira’s warnings from the previous night. She’d never seen the other witch so rattled -- she usually radiated calm. It was that, combined with the absence of most of the class’s regulars, that had persuaded Diana that she may have underestimated Knox’s influence and the danger he posed, though she was reluctant to admit it after Matthew had spent so much time attempting to cajole her into compliance. Nothing made her less interested in changing her mind than persistent, unwanted attempts at convincing her otherwise.

According to Amira, the witches of Oxford -- even those unaffiliated with the official coven -- had been warned off of associating with Diana in the strongest of terms. Where warnings had proven insufficient, direct intimidation had apparently been used, to Diana’s horror. It seemed that Knox had made good on his threat to tell the city’s witches that she was a traitor -- and there hadn’t been anyone willing to oppose him, either. Anyone except Amira, that is, she thought with a grimace, grateful for her friend’s steadfast loyalty to both her and Matthew.

As she entered the housing block at New College, the porter turned to grab her attention. “Miss Bishop,” Fred called out, “you have some mail here to pick up.”

Diana turned and smiled. Fred had made a point of looking after her ever since she’d arrived the previous year and always made sure to greet her whenever he saw her. “Thanks Fred,” she replied warmly as he handed her the stack of envelopes. “Matthew Clairmont is going to be stopping by soon -- do you mind just letting him up when he arrives?”

“Sure thing, Miss Bishop,” Fred agreed with a wave. “Have a nice day.”

Bertrand followed Diana up the stairs and into her rooms, where he grabbed a bottle of wine Matthew had stored there, pouring them both generous glasses. It was their nightly ritual of the past few weeks: he’d escort her home, they’d have a drink and talk until Matthew arrived, then Bertrand would leave, giving the two of them their privacy. Whether ‘home’ referred to her rooms, Matthew’s rooms, or the Old Lodge didn’t seem to make a difference, as far as the custom went. Bertrand had confessed once that it made Matthew cranky to have anyone else’s scent all over Diana’s furniture and belongings, so she did what she could to mitigate that stress -- avoiding touching the other vampire, washing thoroughly, and letting Matthew mark her with his own scent the moment he got home. She still didn’t know all that much about vampires yet, but she did know how important their sense of smell was to them. So, she hadn’t even told him what she was doing, she just let it become part of their everyday routine.

Diana sorted and started opening her mail before taking her glass of wine. Most was junk, but one envelope had clearly been hand-delivered -- it was large and heavy, but there was no postmark or return address. Gingerly, Diana opened it and took out the contents before dropping them on the floor in shock. Her heart started racing uncomfortably in her chest and her stomach heaved. No no no no no, she thought to herself incoherently as she ran to the bathroom.

She heard Bertrand speaking on the phone as she began vomiting into the toilet. “Matt? You need to get back here immediately -- we’re in Diana’s rooms at New College. Peter Knox left a threatening note for her and she’s pretty rattled.”

Her throat burned and her eyes began streaming with tears as she remembered the picture of her father, disemboweled, with the word ‘TRAITOR’ written across it in large, blocky capital letters. She’d seen that picture before, of course, but it had been years and she hadn’t been prepared to encounter it in her living room. Or for another witch to threaten me with it. Oh god, Daddy. She gagged again, overcome with shock and fear at the violence the message promised.

Matthew was in a rage and wasn’t sure how many creatures he’d have to kill before it subsided. Once he’d gotten Diana settled -- comfortably asleep, thanks to a sedative, and watched by both Marcus and Bertrand -- he’d gone out intending to make the witches who’d threatened his wife pay. There had been two scents on the picture, but even as the fury inside him burned, Matthew knew that one -- the one actually responsible for the offense, he thought darkly -- was off limits. Peter Knox, senior witch on the Congregation, was beyond his reach...for now, at any rate. Attacking a sitting member would start a war and he wasn’t ready. Yet. Lucky for you, Peter. But not so lucky for your little pawn. He gets to pay for your sins -- albeit temporarily -- and serve as my message to you about your own future. Enjoy what time you have left because it’s suddenly become far, far more limited.

The young man seemed to suspect that someone was watching him -- either that or he’d been warned there might be reprisals, though clearly not strenuously enough. Every so often, he’d look around, startled, before refocusing his efforts on his books. He was a graduate student at Oriel and his rooms were conveniently located in the college’s offsite apartments on Rectory Road...convenient if you were a vampire like Matthew, attempting to stalk him, that is. Less so, perhaps, for the man himself. Matthew rarely hunted humans and never witches or daemons, but tonight he’d decided to make an exception. He had to know how serious their threats were and what they were planning if he wanted to keep Diana safe.

He waited, unmoving, as the sky darkened and the lights in the adjoining rooms went out one by one. Eventually the witch he’d been watching put away his books and started getting ready for bed, despite his nerves. Once that final window was dark, Matthew made his way to the roof just above the witch’s rooms and listened to the sounds of his heartbeat and breathing. Once they began to even out and slow, indicating he’d finally fallen asleep, Matthew slipped into the building from an open window and made his way to his door. A few minutes later, he'd picked the lock and found his way inside, marveling at just how little protection Knox had offered his errand boy.

Matthew picked the young witch up off the bed by his throat and bit down at the crook of his elbow, hard and fast, before he could respond. A series of images and impressions flashed through Matthew’s mind as he drank: Knox talking to the Oxford witches and convincing them of Diana’s guilt, the young man’s fear and disgust at the prospect of a witch consorting with vampires...and, finally, Knox handing him the picture and envelope with instructions on how to deliver it. He’d known, then, what he was doing, Matthew reassured himself. Just because he didn’t realize the consequences doesn’t make him innocent. He wanted to scare her and has no problem with the idea of Knox harming her.

That last revelation was what finally sealed the witch’s fate. As the other man’s heart started to die, Matthew carried him into the bathroom and turned on the tub. Making it look like a suicide to the human authorities wasn’t terribly tricky for Matthew -- he’d had centuries of practice learning how to kill cleanly, thanks to his role as the de Clermont family assassin. He’d largely put aside those duties since Philippe’s death, but the skill set remained sharp, to Matthew’s relief. His only worry now was Diana’s reaction to the news that he’d murdered someone. There’s no reason she needs to know, he tried telling himself, though the justifications rang hollow, even in his own mind. Telling her would only distress her further after the ordeal she’s been through tonight. Besides, people die in war all the time and I was just defending her. The picture was intended as a threat, an opening volley -- I’m just treating it like one.

Once the job was done, he left through the apartment block’s secondary exit and made his way back to Diana’s rooms. He needed to get her away from Oxford as soon as possible -- hopefully before Knox discovered his lackey’s body -- so that she wouldn’t be affected by the blowback created by this death. I’ll take her to Sept-Tours, he decided. The witches won’t dare mess with Ysabeau. Not with her reputation. Not after everything she did after the war.

After making his way back to her rooms, Matthew checked in on Diana and found her continuing to sleep off the shock caused by the photo. He stroked her hair for a moment before walking out into her small sitting room and facing the two vampires there. From the looks they were giving him, they could tell he’d fed. Both knew him too well not to understand exactly what that meant in this situation.

“Marcus,” Matthew said, turning to his son, “could you go to the Old Lodge and pick up both my passport and Diana’s? They should be in a desk drawer in the gatehouse.” Marcus nodded and left without a word, leaving Matthew and Bertrand quietly staring at each other.

Bertrand broke the silence first. “Where are you taking her?” He sounded perfectly calm, to Matthew’s annoyance. “To her aunts?”

Matthew shook his head. “No, Sept-Tours,” he replied carefully.

Bertrand nodded, unsurprised. They’d known each other a long time and France was a logical choice, given their few other options. “And what will you do about Baldwin, once he finds out she’s there?” he asked, eyes narrowed like he already knew the answer.

Matthew sat down and put his face in his hands, suddenly feeling very tired. “I don’t know, but I don’t think I have any other choice,” he eventually admitted, raking a hand through his already-messy hair. God help me, I don’t know.

Chapter Text

New College, Oxford
June 11, 1999

Diana woke feeling groggy, unsure of how long she’d been asleep. Why am I still in my clothes from yesterday? she wondered until the events of the previous day hit her like a train. “Have some water, mon coeur,” she heard Matthew say through the haze of her memories. “It’ll help with the disorientation.”

She nodded, opening her eyes a fraction to see Matthew standing over her. He reached down to brush her hair from her face, gentle fingers lingering to stroke her cheek. She swallowed roughly and attempted to sit up, making her head spin. “Slowly. You’re safe, take your time.” She took a few long breaths and carefully righted herself before sipping at the water Matthew had offered. She still felt vaguely stunned, but he was right, the water did help, at least a bit.

“I’m sorry,” Diana finally croaked, eyes welling with tears. “I can’t believe I went to pieces like that.”

Matthew smiled reassuringly at her. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Diana,” he insisted gently. “You were threatened. That photo...it was awful and barbaric. I’d be surprised if you hadn’t been affected by it.”

“I miss him,” she whispered, trying and failing not to cry. “I still miss him so much, every single day. And everything that’s happened this term, it’s brought it all back to the surface. How do I go home and make nice with other witches while not knowing who among them would sell me out to Knox and his friends? How do I look them in the face and not see that image of my dad on the ground, disemboweled in the dirt? How do I pretend that I’m not just waiting for them to do the same to me?”

Matthew wrapped her in a tight hug as she dissolved into heaving sobs. “Shh. I’m here, I’ve got you,” he murmured reassuringly, kissing the crown of her head. “I swear, I have no intention of letting Knox or his cronies anywhere near you ever again. You’re safe, you don’t have to face any of this alone.”

Eventually her sobs faded into hiccups, but Matthew kept his word and didn’t let her go until she pulled away, searching for some tissues. I must look like a complete mess, she thought to herself with a sigh, between the snot, puffy eyes, and rumpled clothes. She cleaned herself up and sipped at her water while Matthew watched her carefully. “Thank you for being here,” she finally said once she could trust herself to speak. “I can’t imagine having to go through something like this without you.”

He stroked her hair, a sad look in his eyes. “You never have to thank me for that, Diana,” he protested softly. “It’s what we do for the ones we love.”

Diana nodded, acknowledging the truth of his words. She’d spent so long as a solitary island, accountable really only to herself, that she sometimes forgot what it meant to be bound to other creatures. She’d been part of the Bishop family, of course, but had kept herself separated from them for years -- emotionally, at least, and often physically too. After a few minutes sitting together, Matthew suddenly broke the silence. “I want to take you home with me. To France. I know you were planning on going back to Madison after term ended next week, but given what you’ve learned about your father’s death...” he trailed off, clearly worried about her reaction.

France? She’d been wondering for months when he’d insist on taking her home, though she hadn’t pressed the issue. For all that she’d been naturally curious to see where he’d spent so much of his life -- beyond the woods nearby where she’d ended up while timewalking, at any rate -- the prospect of meeting his mother had been more than a little overwhelming. “And your mother won’t object to having me there?”

Matthew shook his head. “She already knows that I intended to visit with you sometime this summer.” She raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Not a long visit, necessarily, but I wanted to show you the village and the surrounding countryside so you could see how things had changed.”

“When were you planning on telling me?” she asked, frowning.

“I’d hoped to do so in Madison, once you’d gotten sufficiently frustrated with your aunts that you’d let me take you anywhere,” he confessed sheepishly. “Depending on how long that took, I was debating suggesting that we spend a few weeks on a beach in the Mediterranean once we’d satisfied all family obligations.”

Diana gave a small chuckle. “Good plan.” She wondered if she sounded as exhausted as she felt. Probably, she thought with a grimace. Matthew hardly ever misses anything.

“I thought so,” he replied evenly, giving her a small half smile. “You should call them back, by the way. They’ve been leaving messages on your phone every half hour, each one more frantic than the last.”

She nodded in agreement. “When should I tell them we’re leaving? And how long do you think we’ll be gone?”

Matthew sighed regretfully. “The plane can be ready in an hour -- I’ve had them standing by since last night.”

Diana’s heart rate spiked in alarm. “But I still have a few papers to turn in!” she protested, surprised at how quickly everything seemed to be moving. “I can’t leave yet.”

“Don’t worry, Marcus can hand them in for you,” he tried to reassure her. Diana’s momentary panic ebbed, but didn’t entirely dissipate. “He’s also got some medical leave paperwork for you to sign, just in case this takes longer than the summer for us to sort out. I know how important your place in the doctoral program here is to you -- I didn’t want to do anything that might jeopardize it.”

She gave a frustrated sigh. “I guess that answers my second question too.”

Matthew wrapped her in a reassuring hug. “I’m so sorry, mon coeur. I know this isn’t what you’d hoped for. But it’s the only way I know how to keep you safe, now that it seems like the Congregation is involved. The witches won’t dare tangle with Ysabeau in her own home and I should be able to keep the vampires in line, at least for now.”

Diana finally nodded. “Alright,” she agreed reluctantly. “I guess it’s time for me to meet your mother.”

Clermont-Ferrand, France

As Matthew navigated the winding roads between the airport and Sept-Tours, he found himself unaccountably nervous. He’d dreamed of this day for centuries -- bringing Diana home finally, officially, as his wife was something he’d always wanted. And now it was here. So why can’t I seem to relax?

Perhaps it was Philippe’s absence -- he’d been gone for more than fifty years and Matthew still half-expected him to walk through the door whenever he was at home. If he was being completely honest with himself, though, he was also anxious about Ysabeau’s reaction. His mother had met Diana before when he’d been a young vampire. She hadn’t exactly welcomed the idea of sharing her son with a woman who was constantly bouncing through time, but she’d seemed to take it all in stride. He’d been surprised, then, at her cool reception to the news last September that he’d finally found Diana after so many years of searching. They hadn’t had a chance to discuss it over Christmas with Baldwin staying at the chateau and he’d hoped to iron it all out before he and Diana arrived this summer. So much for that plan, he reflected, sighing. Maman will just have to get used to it.

But the most likely cause of his unexpected nerves was Diana herself. She’d agreed to come to France without too much argument, despite missing the last week of term -- a clear indication of how badly Knox had frightened her, Matthew knew -- but she’d been overly fidgety since they’d gotten on the plane. And he had no idea why. I should check in now, he thought to himself, before she starts levitating or sets the car on fire with her agitation.

Matthew reached over and took her hand, raising it to his lips. “What is it, mon coeur? You’ve been restless since we left Oxford.”

Diana bit her lip nervously. “Do you think your mother will hate me?” she asked, voice small.

He glanced at her quickly before turning his eyes back to the road. “Diana, no. Of course not,” he answered immediately, squeezing her hand reassuringly. “For one, she’s already met you and has never given any indication of hating you. For another, she’s my mother and wants me to be happy, which you very much make me.”

She turned to look out the window for a minute before explaining further. “I just get the feeling that she won’t be entirely happy to see me.”

Where did she get that impression? Not me, I hope. “It might be an adjustment for her at first,” he conceded with a slight frown. “She hasn’t had many people in the house since Philippe died, aside from me and my siblings. And even they don’t visit very often -- if it weren’t for me and Marcus, I’m not sure she’d see much of anyone besides the household staff for years at a time.”

Diana continued staring out the window, so he couldn’t read her expression, but her tone seemed sad. “But that’s not all, is it? She won’t like having a witch living under the same roof, not after what happened to your father.”

Ah. That’s what she’s truly afraid of, he realized. “I won’t lie to you, it might take her some time to get used to having you there. She doesn’t blame you for what happened to him, but like most of our kind, she was never terribly fond of witches to begin with,” he explained as gently as he could. “But she will get used to it. You’re my wife, which makes it your home as much as it is hers.”

She turned back to face him, giving him a sour look. “That wasn’t as reassuring as I think you intended it to be.”

Matthew gave a small chuckle. “Perhaps not, but it’s true nonetheless.”

Sept-Tours, France
June 14, 1999

Matthew spent the next few days introducing Diana to Sept-Tours and the surrounding countryside. He’d settled her with him in his tower immediately after they’d arrived, only coming down later that evening for dinner. Ysabeau was outwardly polite, but coldly distant -- Diana could tell it bothered Matthew, despite his reluctance to discuss it. Finally, she woke up one morning and found him fast asleep next to her. He’s finally relaxed enough to let himself sleep, she realized with a small frown. How long has it been since he was comfortable enough to rest? He must have been far more worried about the situation with Knox and the Congregation than he’s wanted to admit to me.

After getting dressed, Diana made her way downstairs for breakfast, intending to enjoy a walk in the gardens and a trip to the stables before Matthew woke. She found Ysabeau in the dining room, reading her stack of newspapers -- she was halfway through Le Monde by the look of it -- when Marthe entered and ushered her to a seat.

“Sit, sit! I will bring some tea,” the older vampire insisted before disappearing through a door off to the side.

Diana sat in uncomfortable silence, Matthew’s mother ignoring her, as she’d done every morning since their arrival. To hell with this. If she hates me, she hates me, but at least I’ll know where I stand. “Why exactly don’t you like me, Ysabeau? Is it just that I’m a witch? Have I done something to offend you? Or is there some other reason you’ve been giving me the cold shoulder for the last three days?”

Ysabeau sighed audibly and put down the newspaper, looking over at Diana with a frown on her face. “Have you visited Matthew yet when he was a young vampire, in the first flush of my blood?” she asked in an apparent non-sequitur.

Yet? Diana shook her head. “No. I’ve seen him as a human and then several centuries later, but never when he was newly-made.”

Ysabeau made a small clucking sound. Was that disapproval? Diana wasn’t sure. “It was a difficult time -- for him, for us,” Matthew’s mother explained. “You’ve seen how his body changed, yes? How he became taller, stronger?”

“I have,” Diana agreed cautiously. She didn’t yet understand the point Ysabeau was trying to make and it made her wary.

“All new vampires are strong and full of hunger, of course, but Matthew was different, almost impossible to control. He was in a rage at being a vampire and his need to feed was endless -- he was a handful even for Philippe in those days.” Ysabeau shook her head -- at the memory of Matthew’s rebirth or her husband’s loss, Diana couldn’t be sure. The woman continued, her voice bleak and her eyes far away. “Eventually, he was able to go hunting without attempting to kill everything in his path, but he was still plagued by dark moods and turned to humans to dull his hunger.”

Diana swallowed nervously. “He’s so controlled -- it’s hard for me to imagine him like that.”

“Matthew feels deeply,” his mother snapped, voice suddenly fierce. “It is a blessing as well as a burden to love so much that you can hurt so badly when love is gone.”

“Then I’ll have to make sure that my love never leaves him.” The words were out of her mouth almost before Diana realized she’d spoken.

“And how would you do that?” Ysabeau retorted, now visibly angry. “You are mortal and he is not. I have watched my son wait for you for centuries, for nearly all his life. He thinks he’s happy, now that he’s found you. And perhaps he is...for now...but that’s just a momentary fantasy. So tell me, what will happen to him when you are gone?”

I’m not going to take the bait, Diana told herself. I’m not. But she practically had to bite her tongue to keep silent. Marthe came in then with Diana’s breakfast and her tea -- one look from Ysabeau is all it took for the other vampire to leave the room again. Diana didn’t make a single move to eat, instead waiting for Ysabeau who clearly had more she wanted to say.

“I remember what it was like after Blanca and Lucas died,” Ysabeau finally shared, her voice full of sadness, but her eyes still sparking with fury. “My husband is gone. As is my daughter. I do not relish losing my favorite child -- the only child left to me, now -- when he realizes he has nothing left to live for. Hasn’t this family suffered enough? Haven’t I?”

Oh, Matthew. Diana’s heart broke for her husband -- his past heartbreak and rage, his likely future pain. I’d save you from it if I could. But I can no more stop you from loving me than I can stop myself from loving you. No matter where it leads. No matter what the consequences. “And what would you have me do, Ysabeau?” she whispered, barely able to speak. “Break his heart now? And mine? I love him. I can’t lose him, I just can’t.” Her voice cracked and she swallowed, unable to say more.

“You have no idea what it truly means to love a vampire,” Ysabeau sneered, her usually melodic voice rough and scathing. “You’re barely more than a child! And if I know my son, you’ve been living in a fairy tale together, not the real world. You’re caught up in the romance and haven’t stopped to think what building a life together will actually entail. We may look beautiful, Diana, but the instinct for blood, to hunt, to kill -- these things can be overwhelming. And we sometimes injure or even kill those we love most in the world when we let our control slip.”

She stood from the table, folding the newspaper neatly and replacing it on the pile. “I can only hope that you can still love him once you get to know him better,” she finally said as she stalked from the room, leaving Diana in stunned silence.

Matthew found her sitting like that an hour later, tea gone cold and food barely touched. “Is everything alright, mon coeur? Your appetite seems off.”

Diana shook her head, mind still whirling with the implications of her talk with Ysabeau. “No, I’m fine, Matthew.”

He bent down and gave her a kiss, making a happy rumbling sound in the back of his throat as she pressed up into his lips. “Let’s go riding this morning, I want to go revisit our earlier encounters in the grove near the old temple. Our oak is long gone, alas, but there are plenty of other trees to explore.”

She smiled up at him. “That sounds perfect,” she agreed, doing her best to push aside her earlier worries.

Chapter Text

The Old Lodge, Woodstock
May 16, 1536

“M..Master St. Clair?” Matthew heard from down below, where he saw one of the builders trying to get his attention. He knew they disliked having him up on the beams helping with the stonework. A gentleman like he purported to be -- like his alias Sebastien St. Clair was -- should never be involved in something so debasing as manual labor. But he didn’t give a damn. The stresses of the last few weeks meant he needed to keep his hands busy or else he was likely to do something stupid and rash. Like trying to talk Henry out of beheading his wife, he thought, gritting his teeth.

He’d been at Whitehall with the king just after Anne’s arrest ten days ago and the man’s temper had been hanging by a thread, making everyone around him jump practically out of their own skins anytime he approached. Matthew had found his own anxiety ratcheted up to truly dangerous levels, he seemed unable to properly compartmentalize his own feelings from the ongoing crisis. It was a precarious time to be at court, especially with his blood rage so close to the surface, and so he’d retreated for a time to Woodstock to work on the house. At least it doesn’t appear that he intends to burn her at the stake, thank heavens for small mercies. I doubt I’d be able to watch and stay silent, even though she’s not actually a witch, even though she has no real connection to Diana outside my own troubled mind.

With a quick prayer for patience, Matthew finally turned his attention to the matter at hand. “Yes?” he called down to the man looking up at him. “What is it?”

The man looked at him nervously. “I’m sorry, sir, b...but there’s a w...woman here asking for th...the m...master of th..the house,” he explained, stuttering a bit.

Matthew frowned in confusion. He couldn’t imagine who might be looking for him here -- all his friends and political contacts in this blasted country were back in London or at the Palace at Whitehall dealing with the Crown’s latest political crisis. Maybe it’s Louisa? he wondered hopefully. His sister was always good for a distraction, even if her preferred entertainments weren’t usually to his taste. “She asked for me? What did she look like?” he inquired as he climbed down, careful to hide his otherworldly strength and speed. Though the man likely already knows, he reflected soberly. Still, it’s better not to feed the gossipmongers any further than my working up here already has.

The man fidgeted nervously as Matthew approached. “N...no, sir. She asked for a M...Matthew,” he replied, causing Matthew to look at him sharply. “Th..the lady, she’s d...dressed quite s...strangely and is uncommon t...tall. With flaxen hair and b...blue eyes. W...what should we d...do with her?”

Diana, it must be. “Nothing,” Matthew barked sharply, causing the man in front of him to flinch. He forced himself to relax. There’s nothing to be gained by scaring the man unduly, he told himself. “Show me to her, then send everyone home. We’re done for the day.”

The builder nodded, then gestured for Matthew to follow. Once they rounded the corner, Matthew saw her standing by the mostly-complete gatehouse where he’d been staying since his arrival the previous week. Christ, I’m surprised she hasn’t been mobbed, dressed like that for all to see, he thought exasperatedly. It wasn’t the most unusual outfit he’d ever seen her in, perhaps, but it went far beyond the bounds of modern propriety. Merde. I can see the shape of her buttocks and every curve of her legs in those britches. Not to mention the shape of her breasts in that thoroughly indecent shirt. I’ll be lucky if every gossip from here to Scotland hasn't heard about her by the week’s end. He sighed in resignation. He had proper attire for her here somewhere...not that it mattered, now that half the village’s craftsmen had witnessed her outlandish garb.

His gaze must have alerted her to his presence because she suddenly turned right toward him, her mouth breaking into a smile bright enough to outshine the sun. He raced over to her, not quite managing to pretend to be human in his excitement. He swept her up in an embrace, not caring who was watching. I’ll deal with the consequences later, he thought vaguely before pulling her into a breathless kiss. There’s already going to be talk, I might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb. “Diana, I’ve missed you,” he whispered against her lips.

His heart rumbled in contentment at her answering smile. “Hello Matthew,” she murmured, reaching up to touch and explore his face. “I like the beard, even if it does make you look a bit like a pirate.”

He smiled and reached down for her hand, bringing it to his mouth for a kiss. “Ah, but I am not Matthew de Clermont here,” he teased, giving her an irreverent wink. “I am Sebastien St. Clair while serving in Henry’s court. You created quite the confusion in your initial request to the builders.” He chuckled quietly before kissing her hand again.

She quirked her mouth into a wry smile. “Well, Master St. Clair, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Perhaps we should avoid informing my husband that I’m here, then,” she commented drily, a mischievous look in her eyes. Oh, is that the game we’re playing? “He’d be most put out to find me spending my time with such a roguish individual.”

He gave her a wolfish smile, enjoying the playful repartee. “Well, I promise to be on my best behavior. On my honor as a gentleman,” he swore with a hand over his heart and a pious look on his face, causing her to laugh, full-throated and genuine. I do so adore that sound.

She shook her head, continuing to smile, and snorted with amusement. “Even if I’d known who to ask for, I doubt I’d have been admitted without notice. My clothes and accent probably caused as much, if not more, confusion than calling you by the wrong name.”

He shrugged unconcernedly, a thoroughly gallic gesture he’d have gotten called out for, had he the misfortune to be at court. “Perhaps, but the gift of your company is worth any number of complications,” he professed, placing a lingering kiss on the inside of her wrist. He found it impossible to ignore the urge to cover her in his scent whenever she was within reach. “May I show you around? Everything is still under construction, I’m afraid, but I think I’ll be pleased once it’s complete.”

He offered his arm, which she took with a smile. “I’d love that,” she agreed warmly. “But first, what’s the date? I know we’re in 1536 because I recognize the house, but other than that, I’m lost.” She flushed, looking slightly embarrassed.

“It’s the 16th of May,” Matthew replied with a grimace. “I should be at court right now -- His Majesty is almost certainly furious with me for avoiding him, truth be told -- but I cannot bear sitting idly by while he executes his wife. It was best for all concerned that I remove myself to the country.”

Diana gaped at him. “Anne Boleyn?”

Matthew nodded. “Yes. He goes through with it, then? Even though the marriage to Anne has already been declared null and void?” he asked bleakly. “His wedding to Jane Seymour is planned for the month’s end and I’ve long been concerned that he won’t be satisfied to let Anne live out the rest of her days in isolation, the way he did with Catherine.”

She winced. “I’m afraid so. He becomes rather notorious for it, as a matter of fact. He’s one historical figure I have no desire to meet. As interesting as the man undoubtedly is, he’s not someone I want to find myself sharing a conversation with.” She shivered slightly, swallowing hard.

Matthew took a sharp breath in. The idea of Henry in the same room as Diana, let alone meeting her, made him practically nauseous. “No,” he agreed slowly. “That’s probably for the best.” I don’t think I could stop myself from killing the man if he touched her, no matter how much trouble it caused. And the way he’s treated Anne since the rumors started...no, it’s best not to dwell on it.

He ran his hand through his hair, unable to keep the worry from his expression. “Promise me, Diana...if you ever find yourself anywhere near His Majesty, you’ll get away as quickly as possible,” he insisted, gripping her upper arms to make sure she understood the gravity of the situation. “He’s dangerous and he’d find you far too enticing to ignore. Look for me, if you can -- hide, if you cannot -- but either way, avoid any direct contact with him. Do you understand?”

She nodded numbly, seeming to take his words to heart. He relaxed a fraction, relieved that they were here, together, and not at court dancing to Henry’s whims and at the mercy of his mercurial temper. Matthew forced himself to smile at her, not wanting to spoil the day with his pointless preoccupation. “So, my dear, how should we spend our time together? I’m afraid there’s not much available in the way of proper amusements, but I’m sure I could conjure something up, if you so desire.”

“I thought I was supposed to be the witch,” she quipped cheekily, making him grin back at her in response.

“Perhaps, but I do have one or two tricks up my sleeve.” He’d found endless depths of creativity over the years where keeping Diana entertained was concerned.

Diana’s face took on a pensive expression, which solidified quickly into resolve. “I want you to take me hunting,” she requested hopefully, voice betraying no hint of doubt. Matthew on the other hand, was shocked to his very core. He found his hackles rising involuntarily, so he quickly pulled himself out of her arms and halfway across the small clearing to avoid accidentally hurting her in his rage.

“No, absolutely not,” came his furious reply. “Christ, Diana...how could you even ask me that?”

“You don’t trust me,” she observed flatly, attempting to approach him as he stepped backward. She seemed unwilling to look away or retreat, despite his clear anger at her suggestion.

“I don’t trust myself, Diana,” he snarled, entire body shaking. “I refuse to put you in that kind of peril. If I don’t want you around human predators like Henry Tudor, how can you think I’d be willing to expose you to a wearh while hunting? I’m far more dangerous than that man could even conceive of being, crown or no.”

“Matthew --” she started, but he cut her off.

“No...no, Diana, no,” he insisted hotly. “It would only require a moment of inattention or a slight shift of the wind...if I got your scent tangled up with what I was stalking, I would feed on you before you even had a chance to defend yourself. You wouldn’t be able to stop me and I wouldn’t be able to stop myself -- I could easily kill you without meaning to. It’s not worth the risk.”

She refused to be put off. “You’d never hurt me,” she disagreed stubbornly. “I know you wouldn’t. You couldn’t.” She walked up to him slowly, step by careful step, until he was once more standing right in front of her.

“I’ve hurt people I cared for before,” Matthew protested, finally breaking eye contact in his embarrassment at being forced to admit these loathsome truths to her. “Other warmbloods. Nobody I loved, perhaps. But also nobody I’ve ever craved the way I crave you. I can’t risk losing you, Diana. I can’t.”

He found himself close to tears when she threw herself at him in a fierce hug. The scent of her hair in his nose, the weight of her body in his arms served to ground him enough to allow him to speak once more. “I have this nightmare of you dying by my hand,” he croaked, voice breaking on the last word. “My teeth are on your throat and your blood is coating my tongue. Every time, I wake sweating and screaming, yet I have a cockstand so stiff it aches.” His chest heaved with the effort of the admission. Hell, even the memory of the dream is enough to make me hard and shivering with both fear and desire, he thought as his breath caught, once again, in his throat.

He swallowed, trying to quiet his inner turmoil enough to continue. It’s important she understands, even if it makes her hate me. I cannot have her putting herself in danger, even if I lose her over it. “Sex and feeding are inextricably linked for wearhs,” he explained, as calmly as he could manage, his fingers tangling absently in her lovely hair. “Nobody is at greater risk than the person I want most in all the world. Please, please, I beg you: don’t force me to witness my darkest nightmare come to pass.”

Diana nodded, seemingly too stunned to speak. She started to pull away, making Matthew’s heart fall. This is a bridge too far. Knowing this ugliness lies at the heart of what it means to be a creature like me, it’s no wonder she’s repulsed. She looked up at him, but instead of disgust, he saw love and understanding reflected in her eyes before she pulled him in for a desperate kiss. “I’m so sorry,” she murmured against his lips. “I didn’t realize --”

He shook his head, cutting off her apologies. “None of that,” he objected with an unsteady voice and forced cheer. “I refuse to waste what little time we have together on an emotion as plebeian as regret. Besides, it promises to be an absolutely beautiful day. So tell me, Diana: how does a picnic and then a tour of the new house sound?”

Diana nodded and attempted a smile. “I think that sounds wonderful,” she agreed, rewarding him with another quick kiss. She took his hand, threading her fingers through his. “Show me the way?”

Matthew raised her hand to his lips, placing another gentle kiss on her exposed wrist. “Always,” he promised with a bright smile. He quickly retrieved some of the bread and cheese he kept for the building staff, along with a jug of wine and a thick blanket, before leading Diana back behind the unfinished house. There was a lovely copse of trees where they would have some privacy, even if they got unexpected guests from the road.

“So, what’s he like? The king, I mean,” Diana asked between bites of her impromptu meal.

“Henry?” Matthew thought for a moment, debating just how forthcoming he ought to be. If this were anyone else, he’d give the diplomatic answer, but she’d earned the right to the unvarnished truth from him. “He’s a complicated man. In truth, he was never meant to be king: he was the younger son, after all, and everyone thought Arthur would succeed their father. He was only seventeen when he ascended the throne and he struggled with so much responsibility at such a young age. For all that, he is extraordinarily intelligent and cunning -- he’s had to be, in order to survive the palace intrigues. On the other hand, he’s terribly vain with a temper to rival the Devil. And he’s never met a woman he didn’t lust after or a bottle of wine he wouldn’t happily consume, though he can restrain himself, if he has sufficient cause.”

He glanced at Diana and found her blushing slightly. “So that part of his reputation is true then?” she coughed, a sip of her own wine catching unexpectedly in her throat.

Matthew laughed, delighted at the glimpses of the future she was letting slip with her questions. “He’s a man of large appetites and strong passions. I suppose it’s unsurprising he’d be remembered for them.”

She nodded absently, lost in thought. “And Anne? She can’t actually have been a witch like her detractors claimed. Not with the covenant in place, surely?”

He shook his head. “No, but allegations of witchcraft are sadly common against intelligent and outspoken women in every age -- and Anne is both, to her misfortune. It’s made her difficult for the king to control and that’s mostly what’s roused his ire. He’s not a man to be crossed or ignored.” The queen’s inner fire had long reminded him of Diana, in fact, and her impending execution had his stomach tied in knots. He desperately wished there was something he could do to save her, poor woman.

She took his hand, sensing the melancholy turn of his thoughts. “You look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

He nodded, swallowing past the slight roughness in his throat. “I’m fortunate to be able to retreat here when it all becomes too much. I’m finding it helps when I long for home and family.” For pack and the comfort of familiarity. For love and security.

She rested her head on his shoulder and they sat together like that for a time. He found himself absently stroking her arm, his face moving closer and closer to her hair as she settled into him with a contented sigh. An hour in her presence does more for the state of my soul than a year of shaping stone or wood, he thought happily. He bent to kiss the top of her head when she turned, catching his lips with hers. “Diana,” he breathed when he finally came up for air. “I’ve missed you so terribly.” His fingers caressed the line of her jaw, reveling in the feel of her skin and the steady thrum of her pulse.

She deliberately untangled herself from him, then climbed up into his lap, her movements even and sure as she pulled him into a kiss that left him breathless with its intensity. His hands began exploring under her garments, finding naked skin with ease. Her breathing and heart rate sped up, releasing a plume of desire so potent any wearhs within a mile would be able to smell it. Thank God they all know to stay far, far away from my territory. He lifted the strange shirt from her body, exposing her beautiful breasts and making her rock against him, turning his cock to stone.

The britches he’d cursed earlier for their impropriety provided delightful friction against his groin, lacking the bulk of layers of skirts. He fastened his mouth over one of her full breasts, making her groan breathlessly. “What if someone sees?” she panted as his tongue teased her nipple to a hardened point.

“They’ve all gone home,” he reassured her, taking the opportunity to explore the skin of her throat with his free hand. “Besides, I’d hear if anyone got close enough to catch a glimpse.”

He struggled for a moment, trying to undo the fastening at the front of her britches, fighting the urge to rip them to shreds, before he finally remembered the trick of it from a previous visit she’d made centuries ago. Why must they use these blasted metal teeth instead of laces, like civilized people? he thought indignantly as he reached, searching for her aching sex. “Matthew,” she moaned as he touched between her thighs, feeling the heat of her desire against his cool fingertips. He inhaled deeply, savoring the moment, knowing it could be decades before he saw her again, before he had her unclothed and in his arms once more.

One of Diana’s hands snaked down between their bodies, cupping his erection as he groaned into her neck. No scars except over the heart vein, he thought idly, attempting to hold onto his control. This is still early for her, then. Counting her scars, figuring out where she was in their relationship relative to him, was an exercise he undertook with absolute delight at every opportunity. He loved reconstructing the image of their life together, despite knowing the future held pain and terror, likely for them both. For all the suffering they might yet endure, he also knew there was evidence of joy -- and that...that he couldn’t be sorry for.

Matthew removed his own shirt as she worked at his laces. “Let me,” he murmured, moving her off of his lap. He stripped himself of his remaining garments in a flash, then peeled hers from her legs, only stopping when there was nothing between his hungry mouth and her hot, wet channel. He pleasured her with fingers and tongue, mindless of everything except Diana -- her scent, her noises, her heartbeat. An army one thousand strong could have marched up to the house and he’d never have noticed a thing, so engrossed was he in every message her body was sending.

Before long, she began trembling with the first tremors of her release. “Matthew, oh god,” she panted, fingers clutching at his hair. Unable to contain himself any longer, he moved up her body and he thrust himself inside her, capturing her shout with a searing kiss. He almost came undone there and then, feeling her walls stretch and flutter around him, oh so tight. He closed his eyes, reciting the Lord’s Prayer, hoping to stave off his own climax, wanting it to last. Pater noster, qui es in caelis, sanctificetur nomen tuum…

Once he thought he’d gotten himself under control, he reopened his eyes and promptly lost it again. This sight of Diana, open and naked under him, flushed and breathless with her own pleasure, had him groaning, his mouth seeking her skin once more. He reached down between their bodies, feeling where they were still joined, then began to tease and rub, making her whimper. “It’s too sensitive, Matthew. I can’t,” she protested weakly as his lips explored the swell of breast where her scar was, fingers and mouth continuing to work her into a frenzy.

“Yes, you can,” he whispered against the skin of her other breast as he continued to rub, to thrust, his cock as hard and swollen as he’d ever felt. “Scream for me, Diana.”

He began to feel her clench around him, her breath hitching as she cried out. Hearing his name on her tongue, the feeling of her second release, it pushed him over the edge and he came, hard. He groaned as he spilled, thrusting one last time as deep as he could go, feeling her shake and shiver as she rode out her own climax. They lay like that, panting, for a long minute, completely unable to move. He finally flopped back onto the blanket, twining his fingers with hers, a smile on his face.

It had been so long since he’d felt so at peace, he wouldn’t trade a single moment with her for a lifetime with anyone else.

Chapter Text

Sept-Tours, France
June 21, 1999

Diana had spent the past week wondering just how she should broach the subject of her confrontation with Ysabeau to Matthew. She’d taken advantage of her trip to 1536 to ask about hunting with him, hoping -- apparently successfully -- that he wouldn’t connect that earlier request with her current presence at Sept-Tours. And while she mostly understood his reluctance around bringing her along, there was still something about the whole dynamic that struck her as wrong, though she couldn’t seem to quite put her finger on it.

The only way to get to the bottom of it was to just ask, she knew...but she’d hesitated, not wanting to upset him. His original reaction to her request had shaken her more than she’d cared to admit, even to herself, even after almost a week. And so if that had been her only question, she might have just dropped it, but Ysabeau had raised the spectre of something far more alarming during their conversation and that topic absolutely required answers. Add in his odd reluctance to do yoga with her since they’d arrived, despite her need to find a way to dissipate her mounting anxiety, and the way he was almost holding his breath, as if he were waiting for some storm to hit, and she was practically coming out of her skin on a daily basis.

They were lying tangled together in bed when Matthew himself forced the issue. “I can practically hear you thinking, mon coeur,” he probed gently, tracing his fingers along the rise of her hip. “Something’s been worrying you for days and I’ve tried to be patient, but it only ever seems to get worse. What is it?”

Diana sighed in resignation. I guess we’re talking about this now. I just hope it doesn’t drive him out of bed to fight with his mother once we’re done. “Do you still have that nightmare?”

He cocked his head, looking at her quizzically. “What nightmare?”

She swallowed nervously, knowing how badly he was likely to react once he fully understood her question. “The one where you kill me.”

Matthew’s response was as swift -- and negative -- as she’d expected. In a blink of an eye, he was standing on the opposite side of the room, still naked, but hackles raised and eyes round and black. “Diana,” he growled in warning as she got up and began to approach him. “Don’t come any closer. I don’t want you near me when I’m angry.”

Diana paused, trying to gauge just how upset he’d be if she ignored him. “I didn’t mean to make you angry,” she finally said, taking another careful step forward.

“You didn’t, but I have a feeling I know exactly who’s responsible for this question. And your request back in 1536 for me to take you hunting, since I assume that’s where you jumped to last week” he retorted furiously. “My mother will answer for her interference. She had no right.”

Diana took another slow step before speaking again. “She was just trying to protect you, Matthew.” She kept her voice as even as possible, hoping to help calm him.

“I don’t need protection from my own wife,” he snarled, unwilling to be placated.

Diana shook her head. “You should understand better than most that the instinct to protect isn’t always rational. If it was Marcus or Lucas, wouldn’t you at least try?”

“She had no right,” he repeated, sounding petulant, which Diana took to be a good sign. His eyes had almost returned to normal and his hackles had lowered significantly. She held out her hand, willing Matthew to return with her to bed. After a moment, his shoulders sagged and he crossed over to her, wrapping her into a fierce hug.

“So, do you still have that nightmare?” she whispered as he buried his face in her hair and took a few steadying breaths.

“Far too often for my peace of mind,” he admitted quietly. “Knowing that loving me could get you killed...it haunts me. It has for almost as long as I’ve been a vampire.”

They stood together like that for a minute before finally crawling back into bed. “There’s something else, isn’t there?”

Diana winced internally, knowing she needed to finish this conversation now or she wouldn’t be able to sleep. “Was Ysabeau right, Matthew? About what’ll happen to you once I’m gone?” I’m so sorry for asking, I don’t want to hurt you. But I can’t live with not knowing...

“My mother has a big mouth,” he croaked, voice hoarse and cracking from stress. “She never should have said those things to you.” She saw him swallow roughly and look away, which was all the confirmation Diana needed. Oh, Matthew.

“So, she was right?” He didn’t answer, only looked back at her with regret and sorrow in his eyes. “Matthew...please promise me you won’t do anything rash. I may only have a handful of decades left, but even the idea that you might not go on...it’s unthinkable for me.”

His arms pulled her tighter as he shuddered. “And it’s unthinkable for me to imagine living on without you,” he whispered fiercely into her neck.

Diana pulled back to look him squarely in the face. “You’ve largely lived without me for the last fifteen centuries. What makes this any different?” she demanded, feeling herself starting to get angry: at him, at his mother, at the universe, and even at herself too. They’d managed to find each other and fall in love, against all the odds -- surely there could be a happy ending to their story? I absolutely refuse to let you kill yourself over me, Matthew, she swore to herself. I’ll do whatever I must to make sure you’ll survive...whatever it costs me, I’ll pay it.

He ran his hands along her skin, soothing her irritation and making her shiver in anticipation. “Because I knew I’d get to keep seeing you -- would eventually find you. That made all the difference in the world,” he confessed. He still sounded sad, but his hands continued their slow exploration. He bent down to kiss her, making her heart pound and her head spin. “I also wasn’t mated to you yet, though I knew we would be, of course. Dieu, I could smell it on you and it drove me wild.” His voice turned husky at this last and Diana belatedly realized he’d turned their serious conversation into a seduction.

He nuzzled her neck, licking and nipping until she gasped. “The mating instinct is powerful -- it changes something fundamental about our brain chemistry,” he explained silkily as he slipped one hand between her legs. “Those changes make it intolerable for me to be separated from you for weeks, let alone decades or centuries -- I’d almost certainly go mad now, if I had to endure it again.”

“Matthew,” Diana whined as he took one breast into his mouth.

“Mating heightens everything about being a vampire -- the good and the bad,” he shared as he trailed kisses down her stomach. “Sex, possessiveness, love, anger...it all becomes so much more. For all that I loved you before, for all that I wanted you -- often desperately -- before, you’ve now become as vital to me as air or blood. I couldn’t survive without your touch or your scent, not for very long.”

Her heartbeat began thudding in her ears as she felt his head dip down between her thighs. She nearly arched off the bed when she felt his tongue begin to tease at her entrance. She carded her fingers through his hair almost without realizing what she was doing, the feelings he was provoking in her body were so overwhelming. But she had one last thing she needed to know and she had just enough awareness left to remember to ask. “And you wouldn’t want me to become like you?” she panted, making him pause and look up with her, frowning.

“No,” Matthew insisted with a small growl. She started to pull away, but he held her fast and placed a gentle kiss on her inner thigh in apology, then nipped her lightly in warning, as if to remind her who was in charge. “I love you for everything that you are. I would never want to change you like that. I couldn’t stand it if you suddenly became someone else.”

“So that’s that -- you’ve decided,” she commented flatly. He didn’t answer, but instead moved again to take her in his mouth, making her moan. She closed her eyes, trying to keep him from distracting her further. We will finish this conversation. “I’m going to stay mortal and you’re going to follow me when I die? That seems awfully fatalistic.”

“Shh,” he whispered against the apex of her thighs. He began exploring her with first one finger, then two, making her gasp. “Let me love you, Diana. The rest can be worked out later. Neither of us are dying tonight and I want to make you scream my name at least once more before you fall asleep. Is that alright with you, mon coeur?”

“God, yes,” she groaned as he began thrusting into her with his fingers, giving up all pretense at trying to have a serious conversation. He grinned up at her, then reapplied his mouth to her clit, making her hips undulate in pleasure. It didn’t take long before she was clenching around his fingers in climax, his head buried between her thighs. He moved up to kiss her full on the lips and she tasted her own arousal on his tongue. She reached down and took his weeping cock in her hand, making him moan against her mouth.

“Fuck, Diana,” he gasped, dropping his forehead to rest against just above her left breast. She felt his nose nuzzling her right below her collarbone, his tongue and mouth tracing along her skin. He took a deep breath in, then grabbed her hips and slotted himself between her thighs, thrusting home. “Christ, you feel so good,” he grunted, before crushing his mouth to hers in a bruising kiss. She responded, her desire further fueled by the need he so clearly felt.

Her body arched against him, pace increasing with every passing moment. One hand reached down and grabbed her ass, pulling her even closer to him, as if even an additional millimeter between them was too much. Despite her earlier release, it wasn’t long before she was once again crying out in completion, his name on her tongue and his cock deep inside her. As she began to catch her breath, she felt his hips stutter and he reached his own climax with a shout.

As her heartbeat slowed, she looked down and saw him kissing reverently near the scar on her breast. He looked up, a question in his eyes, and she nodded her permission. “Go ahead, Matthew,” she murmured softly. She felt the sharp pinch of teeth as he bit down. I wish there was some way I could see him the way he sees me when we’re together like this, she thought sadly as he drank.

Once he was done, he kissed the bite to seal the wound, then pulled her against him. As she began nodding off, her mind whirled with images of a copper-headed stranger -- first in plate armor, then in a more modern military uniform, and in both cases completely covered in blood and gore. Who is he? Is he a ghost? she wondered dizzily as her eyes drifted slowly shut and she slipped into sleep.

Matthew stayed in bed with his wife for as long as he could manage before restlessness overtook him. He hadn’t wanted to admit to Diana just how furious he’d been -- it had taken every ounce of self-control he possessed to channel his energy into distracting and seducing her, instead of immediately storming downstairs and demanding an accounting for Ysabeau’s unwelcome interference into his marriage. He was still angry, even after soul-satisfying sex with the woman he loved, but at least he was no longer inclined to rip his mother’s head off. Well, mostly, he admitted guiltily to himself.

He was still silently debating whether to confront Ysabeau at all -- he knew he’d be inviting a lecture and he’d had plenty of those from Bertrand lately -- when he encountered her reading in the library. She looked up when she heard him enter. “Matthew -- come, sit,” she requested, motioning to the chair to her right. “I’ve barely seen you the past week.”

His temper flared bright and hot. “And whose fault is that, Maman?” he shot back. “I’m not the one who’s made myself scarce. Diana and I have had plenty of opportunities to spend time with you, had you made the least bit of effort.”

Ysabeau made a dismissive gesture with her fingers. “Yes, yes, your witch has certainly made herself right at home,” she commented drily. “But you are the one I wished to see.”

This has gone on long enough. “Her name is Diana. Use it,” he bit out, furious at his mother’s continued refusal to refer to his wife by name.

Her eyes snapped angrily. “What? She is a witch, is she not? And yet I let her stay in my home, under my roof.”

“Is that why you put those ridiculous ideas in her head?” he retorted, voice low and dangerous. “Because you’re upset that I brought her home with me?” Of all the petty...

Ysabeau sniffed contemptuously. “She needed to know,” she countered simply. “And since you would not tell her --”

“You had no right to interfere!” Matthew cut in, unable to hold himself back any longer. “She is my wife, Maman. Mine. And that makes this her home too, as much as it is yours.”

“And you are my son, Matthew,” she responded, eyes blazing, but ignoring his jab about her place at Sept-Tours. “I have lost my husband, my daughter, and far too many sons, both by blood and marriage. You are the only child of my blood or my heart left to me, so you will forgive me if I cannot abide the thought of losing you too.” Dieu, of course. His anger fizzled, finally understanding why she’d been acting so oddly since he’d come home...well, since his phone call last September, really.

Matthew sighed wearily, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “I’m sorry, but you know I never wanted to be a vampire, Maman,” he said, voice suddenly quiet. “I’ve accepted it for as long as I have because it meant I could find Diana. I can’t stand the thought of living without her. And I refuse to put her in any more danger than she’s already in from loving me. I just can’t.”

Ysabeau threw up her hands in frustration. “And you won’t make her one of us?” she asked, clearly exasperated. She must have been wanting to say this to me for a very long time, he realized. “She’d be safe. You could have eternity together if --”

“No,” he snarled protectively. “Diana stays as she is.”

She looked at him pleadingly. “Matthew, please listen to reason --”

“No, you listen,” he cut in savagely. “I have waited more than a thousand years for her. I’m finally on the cusp of having everything I’ve ever wanted, do you understand that? My wife, my ch --” he stopped himself, but not before Ysabeau noticed the slip.

Ysabeau considered him for a long moment. “Your what, my son? Your children? Is that what you were about to say?”

“Perhaps,” he mumbled, looking away.

“And what precisely do you mean by that?” she demanded, unsatisfied with his answer.

He swallowed and got up to leave. “Nothing, Ysabeau. Forget I said anything.”

She was in front of him in an instant. “My son, you know I cannot do that. Now, tell me or I’ll be forced to ask your wife,” she threatened, unwilling to let the matter drop.

“Don’t you dare,” he growled, then sighed when it became clear Ysabeau wouldn’t back down. “I don’t know anything, not for sure. But she’s visited me, Maman. While I was still human.”

Ysabeau swore elegantly in about a dozen languages. “And that’s why you refuse to make her one of us? Why you refuse to remove the danger surrounding the two of you? On the off chance your past self was careless enough to get her with child?”

Matthew had the good grace to look embarrassed. “It’s more than an off chance, I’m afraid. I’ve seen it, though she’s never confirmed one way or the other that I’m the father,” he shared, sighing in resignation. “And don’t you dare tell her -- she doesn’t want to know anything about her future. I’ve promised I wouldn’t share that kind of information, so you had better not either.”

“I suppose this is why you and Blanca ended up married so quickly, yes?” his mother commented, a single eyebrow raised in question. “Most of the village was surprised, seeing as how you’d barely started courting her before the wedding was announced.”

Matthew hung his head, feeling ashamed of his past behavior. “Diana did warn me to be more careful with the village girls,” he admitted, unwilling to look at his mother while confessing this disgraceful conduct. “But I was young and angry at her for leaving me -- even though she’d told me from the beginning who she was and why she couldn’t stay.”

He swallowed a sigh. “I lost my head. Blanca reminded me a bit of Diana, at least in her looks, and by the time I realized just how badly I’d been acting, she’d gotten pregnant and I had little choice but to marry her,” he explained, unable to keep the bitterness and regret from his voice. “She deserved better than me. And then we lost that child and so many more -- I thought it was God’s punishment for my many sins. I’m still not entirely sure I was wrong.” It had haunted him, in truth, for most of his life.

He stared unseeing for a moment, then closed his eyes. “I wouldn’t want to change Diana, even if there wasn’t a hope for children,” he confessed quietly. “I love her for all that she is -- how wild, untamed, alive...I don’t think I could bear seeing all that inner fire snuffed out, not even to gain eternity with her.”

Ysabeau sighed in resignation. He opened his eyes and she finally nodded, accepting his decision. “Be careful, my son,” she warned him. “What you’ve revealed here...no one else can know what you suspect. It would put you both in even greater danger. Promise me.”

Matthew nodded in agreement. “I promise, Maman.” Whatever it takes to keep her safe. I’ll do anything, pay any price.

Chapter Text

Goa, India
July 2, 1678

Matthew stared out at the opaque wall of rain cascading in sheets from the sky. The heat was oppressive despite the downpour, making him long for more temperate climes. I’ll never understand Philippe’s insistence that I come out to the ends of the bloody Earth. The Brotherhood’s interests in the East could be served just as well from either Amsterdam or London, there was absolutely no need to tie up so many resources keeping me here, he grumbled to himself. For God’s sake, I’m more than six months away by sea and messages might take two years to get a reply! Even Jerusalem with all its unpleasant memories would have been preferable.

This wasn’t his first summer spent so far East and he doubted it’d be his last, despite his regular missives practically begging to be allowed to return. The one consolation for being so far removed from the comfort of home and pack was that he was also too far removed to play assassin for his family -- his father would have to find someone else to do his dirty work while Matthew was in exile. And exile this certainly was, but for no possible reason he could discern. He liked India, all things considered, but being a manjasang alone in the world was trying on the soul.

He sighed and took a sip of his wine. It wasn’t the beverage common in Europe made from fermented grapes -- this was called maireya and was spicier, made from edible flowers and all sorts of fruit -- but it was good nonetheless and helped ease the monotony of his days. Nobody did business during the monsoon season and for good reason: travel was both difficult and uncomfortable with so much unrelenting rain, even if you weren’t human. So he’d found himself with little else to do for months on end besides drink, read, and practice the unusual forms of meditation taught by the local spiritual leaders.

It wasn’t a bad existence, certainly not compared to many of the other postings he’d taken on Philippe’s behalf. The slower pace of life and distance from his family’s affairs were a relief, despite the overwhelming solitude. But for the weather and lack of companionship, I’d actually enjoy it here, he mused, finishing his glass. I should write to Bertrand...maybe I’ll finally be able to convince him to bring Miriam and stay a while, provided he’s not occupied with business for the Brotherhood. Or maybe Louisa will want to experience the East. We’ve not seen each other in almost a century, between her wanderings and Philippe’s assignments.

Considerably cheered by the prospect, Matthew was about to go in search of more to drink when a familiar scent of chamomile filled the room, accompanied by Diana’s steady heartbeat. He turned, grinning like an idiot, to face his wife. “Hello, Matthew,” came her warm greeting, eyes sparkling in recognition as she beamed at him.

Before he even realized he was moving, he’d swept her up into a kiss that was equal parts ardent and desperate. Oh, how he’d missed her -- it was hard to believe he’d survived so long without her touch. He tangled his fingers in her hair and took in a ragged breath. “It has been far too long since I’ve been able to do that,” he murmured, voice ragged with suppressed emotion. He buried his face in her neck, letting her scent and the sound of her heart calm him, beat by beat.

When he could finally bear to pull away, he stepped back slightly so he could see what she was wearing. While unusual as almost always, it was thankfully not too heavy -- he didn’t want her fainting in the oppressive, damp heat. She looked around, frowning slightly, and he understood the confusion: this setting was certainly a departure from places where she’d previously visited him. “India?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. “This is far too warm to be anywhere in Europe and far too wet to be somewhere like Jerusalem or Morocco.”

Matthew frowned at the unfamiliar name. “Morocco?”

Diana flushed with embarrassment...well, that and quite possibly the weather. “Sorry, I’m not sure what it’s called during this time period -- the region in the north of Africa on the sea, just south of Spain and Portugal.”

“Do you mean Marrakesh?” That arid land certainly fit her earlier comment.

She nodded, still blushing. “Yes, I think so,” she replied with a nervous smile. “That’s one of the big cities, anyway. It’s hard sometimes remembering what places used to be called, the names seem to constantly change. But I’m right, aren’t I? We’re in India.”

He laughed, tucking away the information like a miser, like he always did any time Diana let anything slip about her time or their future together. “We are,” he confirmed, smoothing her hair reflexively as they stood together. “Unfortunately, it’s monsoon season at the moment, which means that we’re stuck indoors and there’s absolutely nothing to do but drink and meditate.”

To his surprise, she actually brightened at his words. “Meditate? You mean with movement and stretching, right? Poses and breathing in specific sequences?” As he nodded in both agreement and confusion, she began to grin. Is she actually familiar with the practice? he wondered, his astonishment mounting. “Oh, that sounds absolutely perfect, actually. Would you mind?”

He couldn’t say he was excited to spend his limited time with her sitting there, not speaking or touching each other, but he couldn’t bear to disappoint her. “Of course not,” he replied with a shake of his head, jerking his chin slightly to indicate the other room. “Come with me.” He took her hand, leading her to the large, uncluttered area where he usually practiced while he was in the house. The floor was smooth and clean and wouldn’t hurt the skin on her palms or the bottoms of her feet.

“Close your eyes,” he began before starting to walk them both through his typical routine. She kept up surprisingly well, only stumbling once or twice at some of the more challenging places. As he watched her, he became more and more convinced that this wasn’t her first time attempting the activity. How is it that an English witch -- no matter how well-read or travelled -- is familiar with yoga? Unless I’m the one who introduced it to her? He couldn’t imagine any other explanation. Or maybe we’ve spent time here together during her present?

It was on their second full cycle that he began to notice the scent of lightning pervading the room. At first he ignored it, attributing it to the storm raging outside. It was only when Diana began shimmering that he realized he hadn’t heard any thunder, that it was all coming from Diana herself. He watched in amazement as moisture began to form on her skin like condensation, then coalesced into tiny drops -- first on her palms, forming small puddles, then along her arms and chest and legs. Before long, water was streaming from her body with no visible source, starting to pool and spread around her on the ground as it fell. He watched, fascinated, until it looked like the water was about to encompass her head. His worry over her ability to breathe finally broke him from his reverie and he called her name, determined to prevent her from allowing the water to encroach further. But it did no good -- she didn’t hear him, continuing on in the movements, as if in a waking dream.

Next, he tried approaching her, deciding to physically shake her from her trance, but that too proved unsuccessful: he was simply tossed back by wind and water as strong and unstoppable as the sea. Tasting salt on his tongue, he looked up and noticed she’d gone deathly pale -- skin a translucent white and lips tinged with blue. His heart began hammering in panic. “Diana, you need to stop. Please look at me,” he cried in desperation, but she didn’t break her concentration. At a loss for what else to try to pull her back from the abyss, he began to sing. At first, he wasn’t fully conscious of the words, but as her eyelids started to twitch in response, he finally realized it was the same tune his mother had used to quiet his blood rage in the early days after he’d first been turned. Diana please, you need to look at me, you need to let the water go, he silently begged as he continued his desperate song.

Slowly, the water seemed to lessen and withdraw and she once again began to show signs of life -- eyelids twitching gave way to coughing and jerky movements as she slowly came back to herself. He was about to try approaching her once more when she collapsed to the floor like a marionette with its strings suddenly cut. He ran to her, gathering her into his arms, picking her up and bringing her to his bedchamber before stripping her of the freezing, wet clothes as quickly as he could. He didn’t have anything particularly warm here -- the climate didn’t warrant it -- but he could get her dry, at the very least. The irony of wanting to get her warm when it was practically boiling outside wasn’t lost on him, but the outpouring of magic had sapped her of all her natural heat, her blue lips and chattering teeth making the necessity plain. Please Diana, you have to wake up. I can’t lose you like this. Please, God, not like this, he prayed, his own tears threatening to spill.

Slowly, bit by bit, she came back to herself. It took a long time, but he finally breathed a sigh of relief when she looked up at him, recognition in her eyes, and gave him a shaky smile. “What was that?” she asked weakly, shocking him further.

He shook himself, trying to make sense of what he’d seen, but unable to fully understand it. “I can’t say I’m entirely sure myself,” he replied doubtfully, holding her shivering body close. He’d never seen witchwater come forth like that and with so little control on the part of the witch summoning it. “That’s never happened to you before?”

She shook her head, burrowing into his embrace further. “No, never,” she confirmed in a small, scared voice.

He found some of the brightly-colored linen garments that made up his wardrobe and dressed her as quickly as he could, determined to hold her close until she stopped shaking, despite knowing that his body was significantly colder than the air around them. He was afraid that if he let her go before she’d fully come back to herself that she might just melt away into the sea. The outfit positively swam on her much-smaller frame, but she didn’t need to go anywhere -- besides, he wouldn’t risk her health for the sake of appearances, no matter what the circumstances. “I’ve got you,” he murmured into the nape of her neck, his arms securely wrapped around her shivering body. “I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“My hero,” she sighed, relaxing her spine against his chest. They stayed like that for minutes -- hours? he couldn’t tell -- while her involuntary movements slowly subsided, before she slipped into an exhausted, fitful sleep. Matthew tried to calm himself in turn, but his mind was reeling and unable to settle. What the bloody hell was that? he wondered, shocked to his core. He’d seen her use magic before, of course. But this...this was something different. And it scared him. It was big and raw and untamed and dangerous and he had no idea how he was supposed to protect Diana from it. Hell, he had no idea if he even could protect her from it.

Old fears flooded his system, fears he’d tried and failed to suppress for more than a thousand years. He’d long suspected that the scars on her neck and arm were his fault, that some future version of him lost control and hurt her. But now, knowing how much power she had at her fingertips and how easy it was for her to get pulled under, he couldn’t help but wonder if their love was too volatile a combination for them both to survive, if his affliction and her magic meant they were doomed, like some latter-day Romeo and Juliette, fated to immolate on the flame of each other’s desire. No. I refuse to let that become our story. We will get a happy ending, he vowed, hoping he wasn’t simply lying to himself.

Sept-Tours, France
July 21, 1999

Matthew sat in the family library downstairs reading over some lab results Miriam had sent for his review, trying to keep busy while Diana was away. She’d jumped accidentally a few times since their arrival at Sept-Tours and he’d fallen into the habit of waiting nearby for her to reappear. The last thing he wanted was for her to get hurt because she’d accidentally startled Ysabeau and he wasn’t around to protect her. He didn’t think his mother would attack her -- certainly not deliberately, at any rate -- but a startled vampire was a dangerous vampire and he wasn’t willing to take any risks with his wife’s safety.

The reports Miriam had sent were surprising in the extreme. After rerunning all the samples, recoalating all the data, and checking and rechecking all the findings, nothing had changed -- according to everything they’d learned so far about how witches’ powers were inherited, Diana should absolutely not be able to timewalk. Having their work so thoroughly discredited was maddening and, if he was being completely honest with himself, making him doubt the viability of the project altogether. If we could be so wrong about something like this, what else are we missing? he wondered in frustration.

On the plus side, Diana’s results had finally come in and they were...well, extraordinary. All four of the elemental markers -- no surprises there, he thought with a small laugh, remembering some of her more impressive displays of magic over the years -- not to mention telekinesis, telepathy, empathy, transmogrification, precognition...and still dozens more that they hadn’t yet identified. Christ, I’ve never seen a witch with so many different powers. Not even in the oldest samples. If that bastard Knox finds out how unusual Diana is, he’s only going to get more interested, not less. There’s no way he’s going to be okay with leaving a witch like her under a vampire’s ‘control’.

The thought made him wince. He loved Diana and had no desire to exploit her, but he knew that’s what every witch from here to Venice would believe was behind his interest in her. How on Earth has she managed to keep magic so far removed from her life? It should be practically pouring out of her, if this report is to be believed. And, frankly, that fits far better with the Diana I remember than the one I know now. It was a question that had been plaguing him for the better part of a year and he was still no closer to finding an answer.

A subtle shift in the air, the smell of electricity, and the sound of Diana’s heart all alerted him to her presence. He looked up just in time to see her stumble, fighting not to collapse. He was on his feet and sweeping her into his arms before he even realized what she was wearing -- too-large, light, colorful garments more appropriate to India during monsoon season than France in summer. She was practically shaking with the effort of trying to stand, so he picked her up and deposited her in the most comfortable armchair in the room.

“Marthe?” he called quietly -- no need to shout to be heard and he didn’t want to startle his already-distressed wife. “Could you bring some tea and sandwiches for Diana to the library, please?” He could hear the bustle of activity, indicating food would be arriving shortly.

He knelt down so he could look her full in the face, then gently cupped her cheek. “Goa?”

She nodded, weariness etched in the shadows of her face. “Do you know what that was?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“At a guess? Witchwater,” he shared, quickly checking her over for anything his past self may have missed.

She shook her head, confusion and shock evident. “But why now? I’ve never done anything like that before. I wasn’t trying to summon witchwater, I was just enjoying some yoga. It makes no sense.”

He sighed, pulling her into a tight hug and kissing her on the forehead. “I don’t know mon coeur, I wish I did.” It was why he’d tried avoiding the activity unless someone like Amira was there to guide her -- the incident in India had terrified him and he knew he wasn’t up to the task without magic of his own, no matter how many centuries he’d been practicing.

They were still sitting together in each other’s arms when Marthe came in and deposited the tray with Diana’s meal. “You should eat, then we’ll get you up to bed. You look exhausted,” he gently suggested. She nodded her agreement, but didn’t pull away from Matthew’s embrace. He let her linger like that for longer than he should, her tea growing colder by the minute, knowing just how badly the afternoon’s events had scared them both. I need to figure out what’s going on with her magic. She can’t go on like this, not indefinitely...it’s far, far too dangerous.

Chapter Text

Sept-Tours, France
August 10, 1999

It was just past midnight when Matthew’s phone lit up with an incoming call. Baldwin, he realized with a grimace before sending his brother straight to voicemail. He tried returning to his reading, but couldn’t seem to concentrate -- he’d been nervous every time he’d heard from Baldwin since Christmas, knowing it was just a matter of time before the confrontation he’d been actively dreading finally arrived. Less than five minutes later, his screen lit up once more, this time with another name on the display. Marcus. Did Baldwin call him? Merde.

“What is it?” he snapped without preamble, answering on the second ring.

He heard a frustrated sigh on the other end of the line. “You need to stop avoiding Baldwin’s calls.”

“Marcus --” Matthew started, but his son cut him off.

“No, Matthew. You need to talk to him. Tonight. Otherwise he’s going to demand answers from me and I can’t continue to refuse him,” Marcus responded resolutely. Matthew started to growl quietly, but he ignored it. “This is your only chance to explain your side of things before it all goes off the rails.”

Matthew didn’t reply right away, he felt like the bottom had completely dropped out of his stomach. Damn it. “Alright,” he conceded once he’d finally found his voice. “Thank you for passing along the message.”

“Matthew?” Marcus asked just before Matthew hung up, making him pause. “Good luck.”

Matthew chuckled humorlessly, caught off guard by Marcus’s final words to him. After everything he’d put his son through, he was surprised by the steadfast support. “Thank you. I’m going to need it, I fear.” He heard the line click as Marcus disconnected, holding the phone gingerly in his hands, like a live grenade. It didn’t take long for Baldwin’s call to come through.

“When I call, you fucking answer,” Baldwin immediately barked, voice cracking like a whip. “There will be consequences if I have to use Marcus to get your attention again.”

“Baldwin…” Matthew growled impatiently. “Get to your point.”

“Fine, then: why the fuck do I have Peter Knox calling an emergency session of the Congregation to accuse you of kidnapping a witch from Oxford?” Baldwin bellowed, undeterred by Matthew’s small show of temper. “I don’t appreciate being blindsided like that by Knox of all fucking people or having the family’s dirty laundry aired in public. You better have a goddamned good explanation or I’ll have your fucking head.”

Matthew winced, Baldwin must have tried calling right after the evening’s meeting ended earlier. “Christ, I haven’t kidnapped anyone, Baldwin, let alone a witch. So calm down,” he snapped back, annoyed at both all the lies and interference. “Besides, you know that kidnapping isn't really my style. And that I’m good enough at what I do not to get caught. It’s why you use me, after all.”

He’d known Knox would cause a fuss over his relationship with Diana, had anticipated some exaggeration and half-truths, but he hadn’t expected that the bastard would spin an outright falsehood that could be proven a complete fabrication. Though only if I’m willing to admit to the covenant violation, which is arguably worse. Merde. He pinched the bridge of his nose, thinking. How do I get Baldwin off my back without exposing Diana to him? Can I keep our relationship secret now that Knox has brought the Congregation into it? Probably not, he decided reluctantly. Fuck.

“Then why is he claiming that Diana Bishop of all people is missing and was last seen spending time with you?” Baldwin asked skeptically, clearly not believing Matthew’s assurances to the contrary. He always was a suspicious bastard. “The last thing we need is Rebecca Bishop raising a stink with the other witches because you’ve kidnapped her daughter. That woman is bloody terrifying. You’d deserve it if she killed you, you know, for being so unbelievably stupid -- and I’d let her too, if only to rid myself of so many unnecessary fucking headaches. Dealing with Ysabeau’s displeasure has got to be easier than managing all the goddamned crises you create.”

“Damn it, Baldwin, I told you. Diana’s not missing,” Matthew insisted, volume louder than he’d intended in response to all the needling. He heard his brother’s teeth begin to grind in frustration. “And that bastard Knox is lying about it to force Diana out of hiding. He was harassing her in Oxford, sending her threatening messages, stalking her movements. If anyone should be afraid of her mother, it’s him, not me. I’m the one keeping her safe.” Though I probably should be worried about Rebecca Bishop’s reaction to our relationship, if not Diana’s absence from Oxford. I doubt she wants her daughter mated to a vampire, no matter what Diana claims about the woman’s disinterest in her life. But Baldwin doesn’t need to know any of that.

“So she is with you,” Baldwin observed, voice flat. Matthew could practically see the aggravation dripping from each word, painting a picture not unlike the man with the proverbial steam coming from his ears. It would be funny, if the situation wasn’t so deadly serious.

Baldwin’s response wasn’t a question, but Matthew decided to treat it as such. “She is,” he confirmed, trying to keep his voice calm and reassuring, trying to preserve some tiny chance that his brother would accept his explanations at face value and leave the two of them in peace. “But she’s neither missing nor kidnapped. Her aunts both know where she is and she’s welcome to leave at any time -- which Rebecca Bishop would know if she called them to ask. Diana is choosing to be here with me, so there’s no cause for her family to ‘raise a stink,’ as you so charmingly put it.”

Baldwin sighed -- a sound encompassing both his exasperation and dawning understanding of the situation. Matthew could fully imagine the look of irritation in his brother’s eyes, for all they were speaking over the phone and not talking face to face. “Damn it, Matthew, you can’t be serious. You’re claiming innocence of the kidnapping charge by admitting to violating the covenant? With Rebecca Bishop’s daughter, of all people? Fucking wonderful, that’s even worse. This is stupid and reckless, even for you -- so congratulations, you’ve outdone yourself this time.”

“You asked if she’d been kidnapped, the answer is no. You asked why she was missing, the answer is that she isn’t,” Matthew retorted hotly. Here goes nothing, he thought with a nervous swallow. “Peter Knox has been lying to you. And I’m not going to turn her away or make her go back to Oxford where she’ll be in danger from that bastard and his cronies.”

“And why not?” Baldwin demanded, voice dark with barely-suppressed rage.

“I’m in love with her,” Matthew confessed quietly. This is the last conversation he wanted to be having at the moment, especially with Diana -- warm and sleeping soundly -- upstairs. He wanted nothing more than to tell Baldwin exactly where he could shove his self-righteous interference, so he could go up and crawl into bed, spending the rest of the night curled happily around his beautiful wife.

“No, just fucking no. I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. Hell, Matthew, are you trying to destroy the family? I should have known something was going on when you were acting so squirrely over Christmas, but even I could never have imagined this clusterfuck,” Baldwin thundered. Matthew could almost see his step-brother angry and red-faced, he sounded so livid. Dieu, I bet Ysabeau and Marthe can hear him even all the way downstairs.

Baldwin made a disgusted sound deep in the back of his throat. “We’ve all heard the rumors of your little obsession with witches over the centuries, but I’ve tried not to give them too much credit. I didn’t think even you would dare dishonor Philippe in such a manner, despite past incidents I’ve personally witnessed” he sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. “You’ve gone too far this time and I refuse to let you drag the rest of the family down with you. Let the witches have her and wash your hands of the whole affair -- that’s an order. Once she’s back with her own kind, there should be no reason for the Congregation to demand an accounting of your behavior. Thank God.”

Absolutely not. Matthew growled a warning. “She’s mine. She won’t be going anywhere,” he snarled, now equally furious. He’d been trying to keep his temper, but Baldwin’s demands and insults had finally tipped him over the edge.

Baldwin continued on, however, as if Matthew hadn’t spoken. “The session here ends in a few days. Thankfully, your transgressions aren’t the only thing on the agenda. I’ll do what I can to hold the rest of them off until other matters are settled, but I’m warning you: she’d better be back in Oxford -- without you, mind -- inside the week or you won’t like the consequences. And neither will she.”

Matthew disconnected the phone, not wanting to hear Baldwin spew anything further. It took every ounce of willpower he possessed not to smash it to pieces. They’d had a short reprieve, but now they had to figure out a plan for what to do going forward. He’d hoped that Knox would drop it once Diana was out of his reach, but it was clear now that wasn’t going to happen. Christ, how am I going to get us out of this mess? Matthew wondered to himself, head cradled in his hands.

Diana woke up the next morning to the feeling of Matthew’s strong chest against her back. She’d had a funny dream -- not bad exactly, but unsettling -- where she’d been lost in the woods, running from...something, but what she wasn’t sure. The strange dreams had steadily increased since the incident with the witchwater and it was making her sleep restless, despite falling into bed every night, completely exhausted. Waking here at Sept-Tours, realizing that she was safe, had been an enormous relief.

She smiled happily, enjoying their quiet little world cocooned within the large four-poster bed’s hangings. A hand came up and stroked the side of her face. “Good morning, mon coeur. Did you sleep well?” she heard Matthew ask as she felt him nuzzling against her neck.

She turned around so they could cuddle face to face. “I did,” she lied softly. She wasn’t sure how to even describe what was bothering her, so she didn’t see the point of bringing it up and worrying Matthew. I’ll tell him once I actually know if there’s something to be concerned about. A bad feeling and unsettling dreams do not an actual threat make. “I was so tired I didn’t even notice when you came to bed.” That part, at least, wasn’t a total lie.

He gave her a small smile. “I’m glad I didn’t disturb your rest. I’d been intending to read downstairs in my study, but I received a phone call just after midnight that made my plan impossible.”

Diana frowned slightly in confusion. “What do you mean?”

He sighed. “I was so agitated after the call, I couldn’t settle,” he confessed, sounding more weary than she’d ever heard him. “I needed the reassurance of feeling your body against mine, the sound of your breathing and heartbeat, before I could calm down enough to do more than pace or smash things. And once I was in bed with you...well, there was absolutely nothing on Earth that could entice me to leave.”

This wasn’t the first time he’d come to her like that when he’d been in distress, but he’d been remarkably relaxed since coming to Sept-Tours, so the admission surprised her. “Who was it? And what’d they say that bothered you so much?” He shut his eyes for a moment, as if the memory pained him. “Matthew? What is it? You’re starting to worry me.”

He reopened his eyes and searched her face, though for what, she didn’t know. “It was my brother, Baldwin. He ordered me to bring you back to Oxford -- and leave you there,” he explained. Her sharp intake of breath made him reach out a hand in reassurance. “I won’t, of course -- you’re staying here with me. I couldn’t be parted from you, no matter what he threatens.”

She still felt confused. “I thought you said we were married in the eyes of other vampires,” she said, recalling their conversation during their ‘honeymoon’ weekend in Ireland. “Surely your brother wouldn’t order you to leave your wife?”

“I didn’t tell him we were mated,” he admitted with a grimace.

Something wasn’t adding up, not entirely. “Why not? Are you ashamed of me?” She hated the way her voice wavered, sounding so tentative, but she’d come to rely on Matthew just as much as he’d come to rely on her. It hurt more than she could have imagined to contemplate whether he was embarrassed about being with her. She felt a pang of guilt over the argument they’d had over Professor Marsh’s invitation this past spring.

“Christ, no. Diana, I could never…” He trailed off, running his hand through his hair while he stared at some spot over her head. “He was ranting and raving about the covenant. I just didn’t want to provoke him further. He’ll find out soon enough anyway.”

Diana tried to organize her thoughts, but she was still fuzzy from her troubled sleep. “Last year, you told me that you obey the pack leader, like wolves. What happens if you don’t? What happens if you refuse?”

“One of four things, typically: he lets it go, he kills me, he disowns me, or he removes the source of the conflict.” He refused to meet her gaze while he recounted each, making a pit open up in the bottom of her stomach.

“He could kill you over this?” Diana blanched, feeling ill at the prospect.

“It’s unlikely.” Unlikely? But not impossible? He shook his head, clearly trying to reassure her. It’s not working, she reflected grimly. “For one, he’d have a hard time doing the actual deed -- I’ve had far more practice killing than he has over the centuries. For another, he might be the head of my family, but I’m the Brotherhood’s Grand Master and he’s one of my knights. The other members would probably take it amiss if he were to kill me outright -- and he knows it.”

“But you don’t think he’ll let it go,” she stated flatly. It wasn’t really a question.

Matthew looked away, which was as good as an admission. “I don’t know,” he finally confessed, voice quiet and distant. “He won’t disown me -- I know too many of the family’s secrets to be allowed out from under his authority. And he considers me something of a loose canon.”

She frowned in concentration, trying to process what other choices were left. “So what does that last option mean? ‘Removing the source of the conflict?’”

“Well, if we weren’t mated, he’d probably try forcibly separating us,” he explained with a sigh. But he doesn’t know we’re mated, not yet, she realized. Matthew was starting to sound frustrated with all the questions, but Diana didn’t care. This is too important for me to simply ignore. I have to know what’s going on. “Since we are mated, he’d probably try to have you killed if you were anyone but Rebecca Bishop’s daughter. He seemed genuinely worried about how she’d react, so she must scare him more than he lets on.”

Diana snorted. “At least Mom’s finally good for something,” she muttered angrily. “It’s nice to know her reputation will keep your brother from ripping my head off or trying to tear out my throat, even if we are estranged.”

He closed his eyes, resting his forehead against hers. “I’m so sorry, mon coeur. I knew he’d react badly, it’s why I’ve tried to keep you away from him as long as I have,” he replied apologetically. “My best guess? He’ll try to find a way to ship you home to your mother or hand you over to the Congregation himself.”

“Like my mom would care,” she murmured sadly. He pulled her into a tight embrace, tucking her head into his chest. “So what should we do?”

“I still think Sept-Tours is the safest place for you,” Matthew said after considering her question for a minute. “I don’t believe Knox and his people don’t know you’re here -- not yet, anyway -- and Baldwin’s not about to inform them of that fact, no matter how angry he is at me. He wants your presence here kept as quiet as possible, for fear of any potential consequences to the family.”

“How long until they know where I am?” Her voice wavered, despite her trying to keep the fear out of it.

He hugged her tighter. “I don’t know, mon coeur. But even once they do, they won’t want to provoke Ysabeau, not with her history. We’ll have to be cautious around Baldwin, but at least other vampires won’t violate our territory here. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect you. I promise.”

Chapter Text

Saint-Lucien, France
Saturnalia, 524

The first thing she saw as she materialized into the past was a stone wall standing in front of her. She looked up and realized she was standing inside the village church -- the one Matthew had helped to build. It wasn’t complete yet, but the bones of the building it would become were already present. Well, I guess ‘inside’ is a relative term when a building like this is under construction, she thought with a snort. The snow fell in eddies, swirling around her body and she shivered in the cold. I’m not dressed for winter, she thought with a laugh as she looked up at the elegant facade. But where is he? I wouldn’t be drawn here if he wasn’t nearby, would I?

“Diana,” she heard from behind her. She turned around and there he was, a young man about her own age with the kind of truly incandescent smile Matthew reserved for when he looked at her.

“Hello, Matthew.” She smiled back at him, enjoying the novelty of seeing him once again in human form. It never failed to surprise her both how much and how little he’d changed -- fifteen centuries of pain and separation had dimmed his natural, seemingly irrepressible joy, but his innate curiosity, his sensitivity, his steadfast loyalty, his kindness...those remained the same, no matter how much time had passed.

He took in her clothes, noticing as she started shivering. “Let’s get you inside. Come with me, I have a house just off the square,” he offered, hand outstretched. She took it and he pulled her along, hurrying against the cold and wind -- but laughing together in happiness all the way -- until they were at a door barely tall enough for him to fit through. Once they were inside, he turned to her and gestured to the small, but tidy space. “Welcome to my home. I don’t think you’ve been here before?”

She shook her head, smiling despite her teeth chattering with cold. He brought her over to the fireplace and lit it before covering her in blankets and holding her close to his chest. His warm breath tickled her face and smelled vaguely of wine and the spicy scent that was uniquely Matthew. “Do we have to worry about anyone else coming home?” she asked when she could finally speak. “I don’t want to cause you any trouble.”

“No, my father died a few years ago,” he explained, shaking his head sadly. “My mother and grandmother have been gone since I was a child. So it’s just me here now.”

He reached over to stroke her cheek, then bent down and kissed her hair. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve dreamed of bringing you here,” he whispered, his breath hot against her face. “If I weren’t a Christian, I’d have to take this as a sign of the gods’ favor.”

She looked up at him, confused. “How so?”

He grinned down at her. “It’s the first night of the feast of Saturnalia. I’m supposed to be at the chateau for the festivities -- I was about to head over there, in fact, when I found you. But you’re here instead, which is the best gift I’ve ever been given. Though perhaps I can take your presence as a sign of God’s favor instead, since I found you in the church and not out by the temple.”

Diana had no idea how to respond -- she knew he’d been in love with her, of course. The conversation she’d had with Matthew during their mating had revealed just how deep his feelings had gone and for just how long. What do I say to avoid hurting him? she wondered desperately. I love him too, but he’s got a whole life to live before we can truly be together. I can’t lie and yet I also can’t stand the idea of him pining for me when he could find happiness in the meantime. Unable to figure out the right words, she instead acted on instinct, pulling him in for a searing kiss.

Matthew leaned into her, kissing her back with matching intensity. She suddenly felt too warm, too restricted, in her cocoon of blankets. She started to shrug them off and Matthew, once he realized her intentions, began to help her. “I’m assuming you have a bed in here somewhere?” she asked cheekily once she’d freed herself.

Matthew reacted instantly, gathering her up with a ravenous kiss and walking them both to the small room just off the kitchen. He may not have been a vampire yet, but he still lifted and moved her with nearly the same ease. The benefits of a physically demanding profession, Diana reflected with appreciation as he sat them both down on the bed and began to remove her clothing, one piece at a time. His hungry mouth explored as each inch of skin was revealed, making her pant in anticipation. It wasn’t long before they were both completely naked, Matthew’s hand beginning to stroke between her thighs, making her hips arch and undulate involuntarily. “Matthew,” she gasped as he kissed her breasts.

She reached down, feeling him hard and ready, his skin hot beneath her hand. He shuddered as her fingers wrapped tightly around him, groaning at the up and down slide as she began to pleasure him. “Christ, Diana,” he whispered against her skin. “I want you so badly, you have no idea what you do to me.”

Diana smiled to herself. “I may have some idea,” she teased with a small laugh. “But this my turn to make you feel good, so relax and let me.” She moved down his body, placing kisses all along his beautiful chest and stomach until she was face to face with his cock. She looked up at him wickedly, then took the head into her mouth, causing him to close his eyes and moan. She felt his hands tangle through her hair, clenching as he struggled not to thrust. She could taste the salty precome leaking from his erection as she continued to lick and suck his hard length. She could hear him muttering to himself -- her? -- in Occitan, but had no idea what he was saying. I really should have him teach me, she reflected as she worked him up and down. Latin might be enough for the basics, but it’s clearly not the language of his heart.

After a few minutes of incomprehensible babbling, she finally heard him tell her to stop with a strangled cry. She pulled herself off him and looked up with just enough time to register his face reaching down to kiss her hungrily. “What was that?” he asked, panting into her mouth. “I’ve never heard of anything like it.”

Diana smiled against his lips. “Did you like it?” she whispered, making him nod vigorously.

“Christ, did I like it? I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything quite so amazing and maddening before in my life.” He sucked in an involuntary breath as her fingertips grazed lightly along his cock.

“Then why did you want me to stop?” Her fingers continued their exploration, enjoying the feeling of him bucking against her hand.

“I didn’t want to spend in your mouth,” he confessed, his own fingers reaching between her thighs and finding them wet and slippery with her need. “May I?”

She nodded eagerly, needing him inside her. “Please,” she groaned, unable to keep the need from her voice as she felt the tip of his cock at her entrance. The sound of her cry when he thrust home was swallowed by a bruising kiss. The pace of their hips increased, faster and faster, as they got closer to completion -- Matthew bringing her along with a helpful hand between her thighs, rubbing and stroking in time with his thrusts. Before long, she found herself clenching around him, causing him to spill deep inside her with a long, low groan.

As their heart rates returned to normal and their breathing evened out, Matthew reached over and traced the small scar on her left breast -- the bite mark his future, vampire self had left when he drank from her heart vein. “What’s this?” he asked curiously. “I’ve never seen a scar like this before. It’s so soft, not raised at all.” He continued to touch it, making her shiver a bit at the sensation.

“It’s just a scar. It’s nothing to worry about,” she said, grabbing his hand to kiss it, palm up. “I promise.”

He smiled, then kissed her as his hands traveled over her body. “I can’t seem to get enough,” he shared with a grin. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve imagined having you naked in my bed. No distractions, no demands, just hours to explore your body.”

She giggled as his hands brushed across a ticklish spot along her ribcage. “Careful,” she teased. “Or I may leave the bed.”

He kissed her again. “We can’t have that,” he objected, smiling playfully. “But I should probably get up and get us some food. I was expecting to go to the banquet tonight, so there’s nothing hot -- just some bread and cheese. Will that be alright? I’ll bring them here, so we can eat in bed together.”

Diana nodded. “Sounds perfect,” she whispered against his lips. “Hurry back.”

Hurry he did, bringing with him a veritable feast of bread, cheese, and cold cured meats. They ate and talked, enjoying each other’s company as the fire burned low in the hearth. Finally, once they’d finished, he turned over, face suddenly serious. “Diana, I want you to marry me,” he declared shyly as he reached over to kiss her hand. “Please stay and be my wife. I love you...I can’t imagine my life without you.”

Oh, Matthew. Her heart ached for him, knowing just how long it would be before they could finally be together in the way he wanted. She smiled sadly, reaching over to cup his cheek. “I wish I could,” she sighed regretfully. “But I can’t stay. I don’t control when I go back, it just...well, happens.”

His face fell, but he refused to give up. “Surely there must be a way you can return, though,” he protested, his mouth set in a stubborn line. She knew that look -- he’s not going to let this go without a fight, she realized. “One that will let you stay here with me? I’m willing to wait, I don’t care how long it takes.”

She kissed him long and deep, suffusing it with all the sadness and longing she felt at leaving him. “I can’t,” she whispered against his lips. “And you deserve more -- a wife who can be here with you, a family, children. I can’t give you any of that.”

Matthew shook his head. “I don’t care,” he insisted doggedly. “I love you. I want you. Even if you can’t always be here. It’s enough for me.”

A tear spilled down Diana’s cheek at his words. “I can’t, Matthew. I’m so sorry, but I can’t,” she cried softly. “I care about you too much to let you waste your life waiting around for glimpses of me.”

She saw tears glistening in his eyes too as he shook his head again, this time more forcefully. “No! I don’t accept this. Please --” his voice broke, so he swallowed and tried again, “-- please. I can’t lose you,” he managed to choke out.

Diana gave a laughing sob. “But you will!” she exclaimed, voice rising. “Over and over and over again. And there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”

He wrapped her in his arms, both crying into the other’s neck. He pulled back and kissed her again, bruising her lips with the force of his longing. She bit his lower lip, hard enough to leave a mark, making his eyes go wide with surprise. No biting in bed! she thought hysterically, remembering an earlier conversation with a future Matthew.

“Diana, I --” he started to say before she cut him off with a searing kiss of her own. She crawled up into his lap, needing to be as close to him as humanly possible. His fingers dug into her hips, pulling her roughly down as she seated herself onto his cock.

“God...Matthew,” Diana panted as she rocked back and forth. Their pace was punishing and intense, but neither of them were willing to slow down and savor it. It was as if they both sensed that they could be ripped apart at any moment if they allowed even an inch of space or a second of inattention to come between them.

He groaned as she spasmed around him, chasing her release. She felt herself falling as his teeth bit down on her breast, causing her to cry out in both pleasure and pain. She knew he was close when heard him begin to make a low keening sound. “Oh, God, I can’t --” he moaned before coming with a shout, his lips still pressed against her scar and his forehead in the crook of her neck.

As their breathing slowed and the manic intensity of their coupling faded, Diana found herself crying in earnest, tears quietly streaming down her cheeks. Matthew finally looked up at her and she saw the same wetness on his face. Oh Matthew. He kissed her gently, then gathered her into his arms. She felt his breath, warm and steady, against the nape of her neck as she relaxed against his body. It wasn’t long before she found herself nodding off, exhausted from the emotions of the day.

A few hours later, she awoke still trapped in Matthew’s embrace. She reached out to stroke a lock of his hair away from his face, before slipping carefully from his arms. She stood up carefully and put on her clothes, still wrapped in the wool blanket he’d let her borrow, intending only to find some water before coming back to bed. But just before she made it to the kitchen, she felt a falling sensation, then tripped back into Matthew’s tower at Sept-Tours. I’m so sorry, Matthew, she thought with a sob, knowing he’d wake to find her gone yet again.

Sept-Tours, France
August 13, 1999

Matthew hadn’t seen her jump and so had panicked when he found her missing the previous evening. It wasn’t the first time she’d accidentally timewalked since visiting Sept-Tours, of course -- she disappeared with frustrating regularity -- but she’d nearly always done so in his presence before, making his current distress all the greater. He’d left her in his office, safe and well-guarded, while he went down to check on his plans for her birthday the next day. He was gone for less than an hour, but when he returned, he found his tower empty and the book she’d been reading sitting on the overstuffed couch with a bookmark stuck in it.

The next few hours were spent in a frantic search, combing the fortress and its grounds until he was forced to admit that she was nowhere to be found. He knew she’d probably just timewalked and would be back eventually, but he was always terrified that this was the time she’d come back with the brand on her back or the scars on her arm and neck. And so he couldn’t rest not knowing where she was or if she was safe.

A sob and a heartbeat sounded from behind him and he turned to find her tearstained and wrapped in a familiar woolen blanket. Oh, he realized with a jolt, remembering the night he’d lent it to her before both she and it disappeared. As he moved to gather her into his arms for a much needed hug, he noticed that her tears were swelling to the size of golf balls before splashing noisily on the stones of the floor. The smell of magic crackled in the air and, one by one, her tears grew larger and larger until Matthew became concerned that she’d flood the tower. He picked her up and whisked her up the flight of stairs and into the shower, where the excess water would drain through the pipes and avoid damage to the structure.

As she sobbed, he gathered her into his arms and let her cry, understanding all the pain and frustration this fifteen century separation had caused them both. Before long, however, she was shivering violently with cold and he was starting to worry about possible complications from hypothermia, for all that it was the middle of August and not January. The uncontrolled release of witchwater seemed to be pulling all the warmth from her body, just like it had back in Goa all those years ago, so he removed any clothes or valuables from her person and turned on the tap, letting hot water and steam engulf them both. At least she’s not keeping me pushed away with witchwind this time, he thought in relief. Seeing her dissolving into water and yet not able to get near had been truly terrifying. This, thankfully, didn’t seem nearly as violent as that previous experience.

He continued kissing the top of her head, stroking her hair until the heaving sobs turned into quiet hiccups and sniffles. “It’s alright, mon coeur. I’m here with you. It’s all come right in the end,” he croaked, voice rough with his own remembered grief. “We still managed to find each other, despite the years separating us, despite all the odds. There’s no need to cry.” He saw Ysabeau and Marthe from the doorway and waved them off -- he appreciated that they’d come upstairs to check on them when they heard her come home, but he knew Diana wouldn’t want to share this pain with anyone but him. Once her teeth were no longer chattering with cold, he grabbed a pair of towels and dried them both as thoroughly as he could manage.

He lifted her into his arms and carried her over to the bed, saying whatever he could think of to help her begin to settle down. “It’s still early and you’re exhausted. Go back to sleep for a few hours. Your birthday will still be here when you wake,” he whispered reassuringly as her breathing began to slow.

“I’m so sorry, Matthew,” she finally said, looking at him with sorrow and pain and regret filling her red-rimmed eyes. “I’m so so sorry.”

He kissed her again and pulled her closer. “You have nothing to be sorry for, mon coeur. I should never have put you in that position. I was young and selfish. I knew you couldn’t stay -- how many times had you told me? But I insisted anyway. So I’m sorry.”

“Oh, Matthew,” she murmured, puffy eyes slowly closing as she drifted off to sleep. “How I do love you.”

And I, you, he silently pledged. He let her scent and the rhythmic sound of her breathing relax him as they lay tangled together in the bed. Always.

Chapter Text

Sept-Tours, France
August 13, 1999

Diana woke at about noon still feeling completely, thoroughly rung out. The night before had been challenging emotionally and her uncontrolled release of witchwater early that morning had drained her even further. But she was determined to get up and not spend her whole birthday napping in bed.

As she began to stir, a flickering light caught her eye and she was drawn into a startling image of Matthew dressed head to toe in Crusader’s garb. What’s happening? she wondered in alarm. She watched, stunned, as it shifted into a scene from World War II and then again to a battle during the American Revolution. Unlike the previous times she’d caught glimpses of people’s past lives here at Sept-Tours, Diana was wide awake. Are these visions? Her mother was known for her visionary abilities, but they -- like the rest of her supposed powers -- had laid dormant in Diana for most of her life. But why is it all seeming to come out now? First timewalking, then witchwater and witchwind, now visions...how much more magic do I have to look forward to?

“Is everything all right, mon coeur?” Matthew asked from behind, placing a light kiss on her shoulder as she shifted. “Your heart rate spiked and it started smelling like an electrical storm was brewing.”

Diana turned over and nodded sleepily. “The vestiges of a dream, I think,” she murmured as he gathered her into his arms, tucking her head under his chin. “But it’s all better now that I’m here with you.”

He kissed the top of her head. “Happy birthday, Diana,” he whispered, a hint of a smile running through his tone of voice. “So, are you up to going downstairs and seeing what I have planned? We can always have a lazy day up here in the tower together, if you’re not. There’s nothing that won’t keep, if you’d rather stay in bed.”

She pulled away slightly, looking up at him with a cheeky smile. “Much as I appreciate your concern,” she said, kissing him long and slow on the lips, “it would do me good to go downstairs -- I won’t be able to sleep tonight, if I spend the whole day napping.”

Matthew made a small hum of appreciation. “Is that a promise?” he teased, a wicked glint in his eye.

Diana laughed at that and gave him a playful shove. “I’m going to shower and get ready. What would I wear or is it supposed to be a surprise?”

He kissed her again, then helped her get out of bed. “Put on your riding gear -- I was thinking we’d start the day with a picnic and some wine on a scenic hill out past the old temple.”

Her mouth broke into a wide smile. “That sounds absolutely perfect.”

The shower proved ideal for shaking the cobwebs loose from her brain. She had a scary moment at one point where the memory of the witchwater that morning seemed to merge with the shower’s spray, making her feel like she was being pulled under. Matthew had sensed her distress, however, and climbed in with her -- anchoring her to the here and now.

“Thank you,” she whispered against his mouth as he bent down to kiss her. One hand reached up to cradle her face, while the other brushed lightly against the outside of her thigh. She felt a flush of desire, but pulled back. “If we get started with that, we’ll never make it outside. And you promised me a ride.”

He pulled her up against his hips -- she could feel him hard against her belly, sending a rush of heat straight through her. “There are all sorts of rides, Diana,” he retorted huskily as his fingertips dug into her skin. “And the one I have in mind right now is best suited to our bedroom, not the stables. The horses and your lunch will still be there when we’re through.”

“That’s a tempting offer,” she hummed breathlessly, her knees buckling slightly at the prospect. Hu chuckled low, then picked her up by her hips, encouraging her to wrap her legs around his waist, so he could carry them back to bed.

His lips teased one breast as one of her hands found the nape of his neck, pulling him even closer. She felt his erection trapped under her and she began rocking back and forth, rubbing herself against him. She felt it harden and swell further as she moved on top of him. “Diana, oh God,” he gasped against her skin, making her shiver. His fingers dug into her hips, urging her on until they were both almost panting with need.

“Matthew, please...I need you inside me,” she said, lifting up slightly and reaching under to guide him, feeling the tip as it hungrily probed and searched. They both moaned as he finally slipped inside and started moving, unwilling to pause for even a moment.

“You smell amazing. Your arousal, my scent covering you -- nothing makes me harder,” he confessed as he licked and kissed his way across her breasts. “It drives me absolutely mad, it has since I was first turned. There have been times when I’ve been so turned on by the thought of it that I was more than half-convinced I’d die if I couldn’t bury myself inside you right then and there.”

One of his hands slipped down to where they were joined and started to rub, making her mewl as her hips bucked in response. “I love how hot and wet you feel wrapped around my cock,” he whispered huskily. “I love the way you whimper and clench around me as you get close.”

“Matthew,” she keened as she began to shudder and come apart. In the haze of her climax, she heard him groan her name one last time before he found his own release. Before long, they’d both collapsed into a heap of tangled limbs as they sought to regain their grasp on reality.

Best birthday ever, she thought with a happy sigh. And we haven’t even made it downstairs yet. Matthew looked over at her small noise and smiled brightly at the expression on her face. “Time to get dressed,” he announced, getting out of bed. “I have things I want to show you.”

The rest of the day was a whirlwind. Once they got to the stables, Matthew and Ysabeau presented her with her first gift: a beautiful gray Andalusian horse -- one of a pair they’d recently purchased. She was simply stunning and Diana couldn’t help but object to the extravagance. “Matthew, it’s too much. I can’t possibly accept this,” she protested as she stroked the velvety nose in front of her. The horse -- Rakasa, they’d said her name was -- huffed slightly, her warm breath dancing across the skin of Diana’s hands.

Matthew simply smiled and bent down to give her a kiss. “Are you going to ask why I’m giving you a horse?”

She frowned up at him. “I’m assuming it’s just like everything else you’ve tried buying for me over the last ten months or so,” she stated, perturbed. It was positively cruel, having to return such a beautiful animal. Diana’s heart practically ached with longing to keep her, but knew she could never accept something so extravagant, no matter how badly she wanted to. “You don’t need to buy my affection, Matthew. And it makes me uncomfortable to have you spending so much money on me.”

He just gave a small laugh. “I know better than to try, mon coeur,” he assured her, shaking his head slightly. “But I’m giving you the horse because nothing makes me happier than seeing how free you feel when you feel like you’re flying.”

Diana gaped at him in surprise. “What?”

“You think I didn’t notice?” he asked, sounding bemused, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “You close your eyes when you ride, just like you do when you row on your tiny little boat or when we dance together. And you get that same look on your face too, the one filled with excitement and pure joy. You’re always welcome to borrow a horse from the stables, of course, but I wanted you to have one of your own, no matter how terrifying it is for me to watch you do something so risky and not say something. Freedom didn’t seem like something that ought to require permission or have to be borrowed.”

Diana didn’t know what to say. “Oh, Matthew,” she finally whispered, tears welling in the corner of her eyes. “Thank you.”

The ride and picnic lasted most of the afternoon and Diana returned to the chateau feeling invigorated, despite the difficult start to the morning. After she’d had a nice long soak in Matthew’s enormous tub to loosen her muscles, she finally called home, knowing her aunts would want to offer their own birthday wishes. A call from her mother had been notably absent and Sarah was mystified when Diana had asked her about the other woman’s whereabouts.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Diana, I haven’t heard from her since June,” Sarah repeated again, sounding exasperated. “I gave her your cell phone number -- are you saying she hasn’t used it at all?”

Diana frowned, starting to get worried. “No, I haven’t talked to her since last September. I got a Christmas card, which you saw back in December, and a short letter in April, but there’s been no word since then. You don’t think something’s happened to her, do you?”

“Em hasn’t sensed anything. If she doesn’t try getting in contact in the next week or so, we’ll call her department head and start leaving messages in the usual places,” Sarah reassured her. “You know how she gets when she’s working, especially when the trip is almost over. She’s supposed to be back next month.”

Another thought occurred to Diana. “You didn’t tell her about Matthew, did you?” she asked tentatively. “Maybe she’s mad and doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“Oh honey, of course I didn’t -- I know you wanted to be the one to tell her. And anyway, it’s a conversation that’s best had in person, considering everything.” Sarah sighed and paused for a moment before continuing. “But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t know. You know how your mother is, it’s hard to keep secrets from her.”

Diana felt Matthew hold her hand and give it a reassuring squeeze. She looked up at him and tried to smile, but couldn’t seem to manage it. “And you don’t think Knox might have tracked her down because of me and Matthew, do you?”

“If he did, I’m pretty sure we would have heard about it,” Sarah replied dismissively. “Rebecca could take that asshole with one arm tied behind her back.”

By the time she put down the phone, Diana was less worried, but still not fully reassured. Where is Mom? Is she avoiding me? Is she just too wrapped up in her work? Or is she in danger? There was no way to know, especially while she was stuck in France and dealing with her own mess.

Matthew did his best to cheer her up while they got changed, but it was with a heavy heart that she made her way downstairs again to join Marthe and Ysabeau for dinner. A large book-shaped box was wrapped and placed at her seat, making her turn to Matthew in protest. “Matthew! You can’t possibly have gotten me something on top of that beautiful horse. It’s too much.”

One corner of his mouth turned up in a crooked smile. “You should wait to complain until after you open the gift,” he teased affectionately, earning him a gentle shove. “Would it help to know that I didn’t actually buy you anything except Rakasa? The item in the box is strictly a hand-me-down, I promise.”

Diana snorted and gave him a sidelong look. “I notice you didn’t say it wasn’t valuable,” she remarked drily. “But I’ll allow it. For now.”

They both sat and Matthew moved the box off to the side so they could eat without fear that anything would spill. The four of them spent a lovely evening talking together, making Diana glad that Ysabeau had finally warmed up to her. At least I have one maternal figure present for my birthday, even if it’s not my own. Ysabeau, it turned out, had been the one to select Diana’s new horse -- she was particularly fond of Andalusians and had believed that Diana would also appreciate the breed’s speed and smooth gait.

“Thank you, Ysabeau, she’s lovely. I’ve never had a better birthday,” she gushed, her cheeks flushed in pleasure after her second glass of wine.

Ysabeau smiled back, her expression devoid of its typical sadness. “Welcome to the family, Diana,” she responded in acknowledgement. “But you should let Matthew spoil you a bit -- he’s been waiting for centuries and he’s never cared about the money.”

Diana blushed, ducking her head in embarrassment. “Alright,” she agreed, shooting a glance at her husband. “I’ll try.”

Matthew laughed softly and reached for her hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss her across the knuckles. “And on that note, you should open your final gift,” he suggested, handing her back the package. He watched intently as she carefully unwrapped it, unwilling to tear the paper.

“Matthew, it’s beautiful,” she breathed, lifting the cover on the manuscript to reveal the illuminations within. “I’ve never seen such gorgeous illustrations. Where did you get it?”

She looked up and saw him beaming at her. “It belonged to my brother, Godfrey. It’s a fourteenth century French copy of an alchemical text called the Aurora Consurgens. I’ve been waiting to give it to you since I saw how much you enjoyed your history of chemistry course this past term,” he explained shyly.

She pulled him in for a happy kiss. “Saying ‘thank you’ seems completely inadequate, but thank you. This is a birthday I’ll never forget.”

“The first of many, I hope.” He grinned at her, then stood and extended a hand toward her. “Come, I was hoping to end the night by dancing with my lovely wife.”

She took his hand, following him into the next room. “I’d love to.”

Chapter Text

Sept-Tours, France
August 14, 1999

I need to figure out what to do about Baldwin and the Congregation, Matthew reflected as he headed out to hunt. He knew that matters would soon be coming to a head, but he still didn’t have a plan – he felt trapped, boxed in by forces he’d ignored for far too long. As he rounded a line of hedges, he saw a dark figure leaning against a chestnut tree on the far side of the gate. What the hell is he doing here?

“Domenico,” Matthew said casually as the figure approached, doing his best not to show his alarm. “It’s been years.” What do you want?

“When was that? In Ferrara?” Domenico appeared to ponder the question. You know exactly when it was, you snake. “We were both fighting the pope – though for different reasons, as I remember. I was trying to save Venice. You were trying to save the Templars...such a pity how that all turned out.”

Matthew nodded sharply, irritated by the other vampire’s calm demeanor in the face of such a drastic breach of etiquette. He knows better than to just show up here. Time to put an end to this charade. “What do you want, Domenico?” he demanded impatiently. “I assume it’s not to reminisce about old times.”

“Come now, Matthew...is that any way to treat an old friend?” Domenico tutted piously, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “Surely you wouldn’t mind asking me back to the chateau for some refreshment before we must discuss business? It’s been a long journey and I’m positively parched.” And surely you wouldn’t expect me to let you anywhere near my home without knowing exactly what your intentions are?

“Times have changed,” Matthew commented flatly, not wanting to encourage further repartee. “Say what you’ve come here to say, then get off our land. Ysabeau will be thoroughly displeased once she realizes you’re here. You know how she hates surprises...and visitors.”

Domenico’s eyes flashed with barely-concealed annoyance. “Perhaps, but there’s one thing that hasn’t changed in all these years: whenever there’s a crisis, there’s a de Clermont in the middle of it.” He cocked his head, then Matthew heard the bells from the village begin to chime and breathed a sigh of relief. They’ve raised the banners. Ysabeau and Marthe must have her up in the tower, thank God. “Ah, it looks like your mother knows I’m here. And so, I imagine, does your mate.”

Matthew shot him a startled look, making Domenico laugh. “Oh, Matthew! Surely you didn’t think I wouldn’t notice. I smelled the witch on you the moment I saw you.”

“What. Do. You. Want?” Matthew bit out, feeling himself begin to lose his temper.

“I’ve come from the Congregation. As you well know, the covenant clearly forbids any liaison between a vampire and a witch,” he explained over Matthew’s low growl. “I’ve come to serve you with a warning: the witch must leave this house and no longer associate with you or any member of your family. If she doesn’t, we will take whatever steps are necessary to separate you and preserve the covenant.”

“Never,” Matthew snarled, taking an involuntary step forward.

Domenico continued as if Matthew hadn’t spoken, though he did step back slightly when Matthew moved. “Seeing as you’ve mated with the witch, however, I don’t imagine you’d be willing to part with her, no matter what the potential consequences. You have always been a reckless fool,” he remarked disparagingly. “If you’re not willing to let her go, then you have only one other option: make her one of us. Peter Knox and the witches will not like it, of course, but once she’s a vampire, they will have no say in the matter.”

The thought made Matthew’s blood run cold. “Never,” he echoed his earlier promise, voice barely more than a growl. “No one will be changing Diana.”

Domenico shook his head sadly. “Do it soon or you’ll both find yourselves headed for Venice, like it or not. There is no third option.”

Now that her birthday was over, Diana was finding it impossible not to worry over what their plans were going to be for the coming fall. She wanted to return to Oxford. Desperately. She’d worked so hard for the place in her grad program – she couldn’t imagine abandoning all that effort or her dreams of a career in academia. Once they’d left for France, she’d harbored private doubts about returning for Michaelmas term in October, but now, after two months away and no further threats from Peter Knox or other witches, she’d finally started to believe again that going back might be possible.

Would I even be able to return later if I withdraw now? she wondered silently. She knew the de Clermonts wielded considerable influence and could probably get the university to bend the rules, but she’d worked so hard to get out from her mother’s shadow, she was loath to rely on anyone else to fight her academic battles for her.

A whirl of activity interrupted her reverie as both Marthe and Ysabeau swept into the room. “Come, Diana...we must hurry,” Ysabeau said as she grabbed Diana’s hand.

“What’s wrong?” Diana asked, frowning at the unusual behavior from the two vampires. “Where’s Matthew?”

“We need to get you up to the top of the tower,” Ysabeau urged, sounding harried. That alone was enough to make Diana pause – her mother-in-law always looked poised and picture perfect, like a film star or a model. Seeing her so uncharacteristically flustered was deeply unnerving. “There is no time for explanations – you will see for yourself once we get there.” Diana nodded, following through one room after another until they were climbing what felt like an impossible number of stairs. She sat down at the top, gasping, while Marthe raised a forked banner displaying a silver ouroboros. A few moments later, she heard bells coming from the church in the village.

She frowned, looking up at the women. “What’s happened?” she demanded again, starting to lose her temper. “Where’s Matthew?”

Ysabeau gestured to the ground down below. Diana stood up carefully and looked – finally picking out the small shapes in the courtyard below. Matthew was standing there talking to another vampire – a figure all in black. It didn’t look like a friendly conversation. She shivered, though the day was warm. “Who is that?”

“His name is Domenico Michele, from Venice,” Ysabeau replied, eyes fixed on her son. “And he’s one of Matthew’s oldest friends, which makes him a very dangerous enemy.”

Diana looked around at the tower, its banner, and the corresponding flag in the village below. “Why did we come up here?” she asked, confused at all the activity.

“Matthew will be looking for us up here once he’s through,” Ysabeau explained, then gestured in the direction of the ringing bells. “We fly the banner as a warning to the village to be on their guard. The villagers have grown too accustomed to living among vampires and – though they have nothing to fear from us – we have kept it for times when others are with us. The world is full of vampires who cannot be trusted, Diana. Domenico Michele is one of them.”

Diana shivered and nodded, remembering her encounter with Juliette this past winter. She noticed Marthe standing guard by the stairwell, as if she expected an attack at any moment. “Would Domenico really come up here and rip open my throat?” she whispered, trying and failing not to sound as frightened as she felt.

Ysabeau shook her head, eyes finding the figures below once more. “That would be all too easy, my dear. He would play with you first. He always plays with his prey. And Domenico loves an audience.” They all watched as the two men below finished their conversation and went their separate ways. Matthew managed a parting blow to the other vampire, sending him crashing against a tree, before Domenico vanished into the woods outside the gate.

It didn’t take long for Matthew to find his way up to them, eyes black and hackles raised. He calmed fractionally once he saw Diana was safe, but remained stiff and angry as he addressed his mother. “Did you see anyone else inside the grounds?” he demanded sharply.

She shook her head. “Non. I will go out and check the likely places,” she offered, disappearing before Matthew could respond. Marthe went with her, giving Diana and Matthew some privacy.

Diana turned to Matthew, voice puzzled. “Where is she going?”

He turned a fraction so he could see the woods and fields below before answering. “She’s doing a sweep of the territory around Sept-Tours to make sure Domenico hasn’t decided to linger – or to bring friends. There are some caves in the area, for instance, where vampires like to hide.”

Diana reached out a hand to touch Matthew’s arm. “What did he want?” she asked, frustrated that she didn’t have his full attention.

Matthew turned to face her, running a hand through his hair in agitation, eyes bleak. “He came to deliver an ultimatum from the Congregation. We’ve been ordered to separate or face the consequences.”

“Never,” Diana snapped hotly, causing Matthew’s mouth to twitch slightly in amusement.

“That’s what I said,” he assured her, before sobering. “But it’s serious. I’m not sure how much longer we have until they make good on their threats. I still think this is the safest place for us – the de Clermont family name should keep the witches away and, even dead, Philippe’s memory commands respect among the vampires.”

She nodded, then wrapped him in a tight hug. “I love you.”

She felt his lips against her hair as his arms came up around her. “I’m sorry about Oxford,” he whispered, barely loud enough for her to hear. “I know how important it was to you.”

Diana nodded, swallowing hard. “Well, I can’t finish my program if the Congregation gets a hold of me,” she joked, despite knowing how forced it sounded. She took a breath, her voice turning serious. “Besides, you have to know that I’d choose you every time. You’ll always be more important to me than school. And I’d rather brave the consequences than face my life without you. So no more apologies.”

She felt him take a steadying breath, face still buried in her hair. “Alright, mon coeur – I promise I’ll try.”

August 15, 1999

I miss Amira’s yoga classes, Diana thought as she began her morning run. She had agreed not to leave the grounds without an escort after Domenico’s unwelcome appearance the day before, so the garden and the area within the chateau’s walls would have to do. It’s too bad there’s no moat. I could really use some time rowing on the river, especially since yoga is out now without an experienced instructor.

On her second circuit of the grounds, she removed the two apples she’d stashed from her pocket on her way through the kitchen and headed toward the stables. She’d become good friends with the horses during her isolation here in France – regular rides out in the countryside was one of the few things keeping her from going crazy with forced inactivity. Just because she couldn’t go riding this morning didn’t mean she wanted to disappoint the poor things, though. She knew they enjoyed the sweets as much as she did their company.

On entering the stables, her shoulders began to instantly relax. Matthew’s giant, temperamental stallion whinied in greeting, making her laugh and distracting her from her vague sense of unease. “Hey there, sweet boy,” she crooned at the huge black beast as he snuffled at her pockets, looking for the treats she’d brought. “I don’t know why Matthew’s so worried about you, sweetheart – you’re not going to bite me, are you?” He started rubbing his nose affectionately against her arm in response, making her smile and giggle slightly. You’re quite the charmer, aren’t you? She split one of the applies, giving him half and a gentle pat on his neck before moving on.

Next up were the two gorgeous Andalusians that had joined the stable just a few days ago. The sisters looked nearly identical and while she could already tell them apart on sight, she doubted everyone could manage it. “Hey, pretty girl,” she first greeted Fiddat, Ysabeau’s horse. She happily handed the animal the second half of the split apple, earning a small huff of pleasure, before moving on to her own.

“Hello, beautiful,” she breathed in awe. I still can’t believe Matthew got her for me – she’s like every childhood dream of mine come true, Diana thought with a smile, handing over the last apple to the horse’s obvious delight. She stroked the long, powerful neck as a warm nose went searching for more in her pocket. “Sorry, lovey, I’m all out,” she apologized, causing the animal to snort in disappointment. “I know, but I’ll bring another if I can convince Matthew to take us out later. Alright?”

Diana knew he was still spooked from yesterday, but she hoped he wouldn’t try to keep her from leaving the grounds indefinitely. It’s for my protection, she reminded herself, trying to ease the feeling of being trapped, of the walls closing in on her. While Matthew’s precautions might be prudent, they sometimes made her feel a bit like a caged bird – ironic, considering she’d never really felt free until meeting him. But now that I’ve had a taste of it, how do I go back?

On that disquieting note, she made her way out of the stables, leaving the horses behind. She took a deep breath and began running again, deciding on a third lap of the grounds to burn off her restless energy. Just as she rounded the corner into the garden, she felt her stomach drop as she shot into the air. She looked up in horror and recognized the tingling gaze of an unfamiliar witch looking back at her. Crap, I’m in so much trouble, she realized with a jolt.

“Yes, Diana Bishop. You are,” the witch above her said before she refocused her gaze on where she was taking them. Diana began reciting the monarchs of England in reverse order in an effort to keep the other woman out of her thoughts. What if Matthew thinks I’m off timewalking somewhere and doesn’t come looking for me? her brain supplied unhelpfully, making her heart pound with panic.

Matthew was talking with Bertrand when Marthe’s yell shattered any remaining sense of well-being he had left. Domenico’s visit the day before had frightened him more than he’d been willing to admit to Diana and he’d been frantically trying to come up with a better plan than to simply sit tight at Sept-Tours. As he raced down the stairs of his tower, through the rooms of the chateau, and into the kitchen, he had barely enough time to wonder what exactly had gone wrong before finding himself in front of his mother and her housekeeper. “What happened?” he demanded, eyes wild.

“She’s been taken,” Marthe explained, eyes wide with shock. “A witch snatched her from the gardens and flew away.”

Matthew’s heart stuttered in his chest. NO! the beast within him howled. He grabbed her arm, headless of anything in his frantic state. “Who was it? Which way did they take her?” he asked in a terrified rush.

She shook her head. “Non, the view was blocked, I could not see,” she replied, sounding almost as panicked as he felt.

Ysabeau was the only one who appeared calm. “We will find her, Matthew,” she reassured him, trying to regain control of the situation. “You know she survives this, yes?”

He looked at her, uncomprehending, for a moment before his brain finally caught up to his ears. He nodded, swallowing hard. “Yes,” he snarled. “But in what condition? I can’t let them hurt her. This is all my fault. I told her I’d be safe as long as she stayed inside the walls. I never dreamed the witches would dare come here.”

The look his mother gave him made him growl. Yes, Maman, I know I’ve been an idiot, he wanted to scream. Just please, God, let me find her before they hurt her too badly. “We need to sweep the area around the chateau. Most modern witches cannot fly for long distances,” he declared with more confidence than he felt. “I’ll drive to Brioude. Go past Aubusson, Ysabeau, and into Limousin. Marthe, you check the caves then come back here in case she comes back or someone calls with news.”

He ran out to his car without a backward glance at the other two vampires, knowing they’d follow his orders to the letter. I’m coming, Diana, he promised, heart in his throat. And I won’t stop looking until I bring you home safe.

Chapter Text

La Pierre, France
August 15, 1999

Diana closed her eyes and swallowed, trying to keep the panic and terror from completely consuming her. The witch who’d kidnapped her stood at her back, preventing her escape, as two vampires studied her closely. The first was familiar to her – she’d seen Domenico Michele from a distance at Sept-Tours, been warned about him by both Ysabeau and Matthew. The other radiated power and an overwhelming sense of evil. If Domenico was dangerous, then this other vampire must be downright lethal.

“Thank you for this place, Gerbert,” the witch greeted them calmly, though Diana had no idea how she could be near these vampires and not run screaming from them both. “You’re right – I won’t be disturbed here.”

The light seemed to flicker and she saw the vampire in this same castle, though not yet a ruin, slowly torturing and drinking from an unfamiliar woman. She seemed to look directly into Diana’s eyes – Diana even felt the tingle of a witch’s gaze on her face – before gasping and attempting to pull herself away. “You must not tell him!” she cried, head swinging around wildly. “He wants to destroy us all!” The vampire in her vision – Gerbert? – started to turn and suddenly the world flickered again, bringing Diana back to the present. Who was that witch? she wondered, shaken by what she’d seen. She’d been surprised by visions a few times at Sept-Tours, but she’d never felt anything quite so vivid before.

“It is my pleasure, Satu. May I examine her?” Gerbert asked, but didn’t wait for a response before approaching her and reaching out with a single finger to stroke her cheek. “Ah, Diana Bishop. We’ve heard so much about you from our colleague, Peter Knox. I’m looking forward to spending some time with you myself, once Satu here is satisfied.”

Diana snapped her head back as far as it would go, doing whatever she could to keep him from touching her further. He laughed. “Oh, you are a feisty one! Just like Peter said. Let me introduce myself: I am Gerbert, known better perhaps as Gerbert of Aurillac – one of the vampires on the Congregation. To my right is Domenico Michele, but I imagine you already know that after his visit to Sept-Tours yesterday. Such a pity that Matthew didn’t listen to him, now you’ll both have to answer for your disobedience.”

Gerbert took a long, slow breath, scenting the air like an overgrown viper. “It seems you were not mistaken after all, Domenico,” he observed with an evil smile. “I can smell him all over her.”

Domenico glowered. “So I told you. Matthew was completely covered in her scent when we spoke yesterday,” he replied stiffly. “There was no mistaking it.”

Satu cleared her throat and took a step forward. “Diana Bishop is in my care now. There is no need for your presence here any longer.”

Gerbert ignored Satu, intent only on Diana. “I knew a witch like you once. Even her name – Meridiana – was similar to yours. She didn’t want to help me, of course, but my blood kept her in thrall,” he murmured silkily, eyes wide and round like a rabid dog. “Each time I drank from her, small insights into her magic passed to me, but they were frustratingly fleeting. She eventually became weak and easy to control. What is it that you see, Diana? Will you share it with me?”

“Enough, Gerbert,” Satu snapped, taking a further step forward. “You’ll have your turn once I’ve determined the extent of her transgressions. And punished her accordingly.”

Gerbert’s eyes flashed angrily, but he nodded stiffly and withdrew with Domenico at his side. Satu waited until they’d left the castle before releasing Diana into the courtyard. Diana attempted to run, but was stopped by a flick of the wrist by Satu. She then walked around Diana in a slow circle, drawing a perimeter that Diana didn’t dare cross. Diana swallowed, hesitating, before deciding to finally speak. “Who are you? And what gives you the right to hold me here like this?” she asked with more apparent courage than she actually felt.

The other witch cocked her head, but continued drawing her circle as she contemplated her answer. “My name is Satu Järvinen and I’m here on behalf of the Congregation,” she finally explained. “You and Matthew Clairmont stand accused of willfully violating the covenant. We are here to determine your guilt, root out any conspirators, and decide on your punishment. As your fellow witches, we have no desire to turn you over to a creature like Gerbert, but we’ll have no choice if you don’t cooperate.” The words confirmed what every single instinct in Diana’s body was telling her: this witch was dangerous – deadly, even – and if she didn’t find a way to escape, she’d end up so badly broken that even Matthew might not be able to put her back together again.

Diana took a deep breath, steadying herself, before looking Satu straight in the eye. Courage. “I’ll tell you what I told Peter Knox in Oxford: I don’t see how my relationship with Matthew is any of your business,” she declared as boldly as she could manage. “We’re both adults, neither of us have attracted human attention, there’s no reason not to leave us alone.”

Satu shook her head sadly. “Tsk, tsk. Diana, come now. The time for bravado is past. We tried to make you see how dangerous Clairmont was. As witches, we didn’t want to go to these lengths, but you refused to listen to Peter when he tried to warn you in Oxford. Every day that vampire drew you closer, but you’re safely beyond his reach now.” Diana inhaled sharply and tried to take a step back, but her feet were rooted to the ground. Is that fear? Or some sort of enchantment? she wondered, unable to think clearly.

“It’s not your fault,” Satu continued, not waiting for Diana to respond. “Vampires are so seductive, so charming. It’s no wonder a sheltered naif like you would get caught in his thrall. It wasn’t possible for you to see him for what he really is.”

“I’m not in Matthew’s thrall,” Diana insisted, raising her voice. She had no idea what Satu meant by the term, but it sounded coercive and her relationship with Matthew had been anything but. “And I know exactly who and what he is.”

“Are you quite sure?” Satu taunted, a smirk on her face. “Has he told you about the wizard he killed in Oxford before the two of you disappeared in June?”

“You’re lying,” Diana protested, trying to maintain her righteous anger. “Matthew wouldn’t just kill someone like that.”

“I assure you he did. You’d know if I were lying to you, Diana. We are sisters, after all,” Satu replied calmly, clearly sure of both her information and position. That, more than anything, made the bottom drop out of Diana’s stomach. Matthew wouldn’t do something like that, would he? “Apparently vampires have never learned that killing the messenger is pointless.”

“The picture of my father.” Diana was stunned – Satu’s words suddenly made complete, horrifying sense. She remembered Marcus’s caution to Ransome in New Orleans about what Matthew would do if he found out that Diana had been threatened and shivered. He just might kill a witch for sending me that photo.

“It was heavy-handed for Peter to send it to you and careless of him to let someone else deliver it,” Satu commented, a look of triumph on her face, seeing that Diana finally believed her. “Clairmont's too smart to leave evidence, though. He made it look like a suicide and left the body in the bathtub. It was days before it was discovered, it was only after he’d missed several classes that someone thought to check his rooms.” Diana blanched, feeling sick to her stomach. The witch Matthew killed was a student, just like me. How could he say he loved me, how could he call me his wife and still keep something like this from me?

“You must let me help you,” Satu continued, voice almost friendly in its gentleness. “This has gone too far and you are in terrible danger. I would have expected your mother to prepare you better, but no matter. Your sisters can save you from him.”

Mentioning Rebecca was the wrong choice – any inroads Satu had built with her shocking revelations instantly collapsed. “I’m not in Matthew’s thrall,” Diana repeated, raising her voice to almost a yell. “And my mother has nothing to do with this.”

Satu simply looked curious. “Oh really? What exactly does your mother have to say about this relationship of yours?” she asked, voice suddenly dripping with contempt as the friendly mask she’d been wearing fell away. Diana got the sense that this strange witch thoroughly disliked her mom – hated her, even – but had no idea why. “And what about your aunts? Are they happy to have you consorting with vampires? Surely they’re as horrified as the rest of us.”

Diana stared back at Satu, glaring daggers at the other witch, refusing to answer – the last thing she wanted to was implicate Sarah or Em in her troubles after they’d tried so hard to protect her. Satu gave a small flick of her hand and Diana was suddenly suspended upside down by her left ankle. “I asked you a question, Diana,” she hissed menacingly. “Now tell me: what does your mother think of your disgusting relationship with that vampire?” When Diana still declined to speak, Satu opened a long gash on Diana’s arm, making her cry out in pain. “There are consequences for disobedience, Diana. Now tell me.”

“She doesn’t know,” Diana finally bit out, breathing heavily. “She’s been in Africa. I haven’t talked to her in almost a year.”

Satu nodded, her face pinched in disappointment. What, did she want Mom to have been supportive? “And your aunts?”

Diana tried to hold back, but Satu opened the gash wider, making it bleed in earnest. “They’ve tried to get me to stop seeing him countless times,” she answered in a rush, voice ragged with the effort of keeping herself from screaming. “They were worried and angry when I told them about him.”

“See now, that wasn’t so hard, was it? Let’s try another. Tell me, Diana…have you allowed him to bite you?” When she didn’t immediately answer, Satu made the ankle holding her in mid-air flash bright with fire and pain. “I thought we already went over this, Diana. Answer me: have you given that vampire your blood?”

Diana gave a strangled cry. “Yes,” she gasped, heaving.

This made Satu look practically giddy, as if this was finally the answer she’d been hoping for. “Oh, that’s not good,” she remarked in mock sadness. “That you’d turn your back on your own people – ignoring their invitations and declining to become part of their community – is bad enough. But then you take up with a vampire and willingly give him access to your power and secrets? It’s exactly as Peter feared.”

Satu cocked her head speculatively at Diana’s prostrate form. “What is it about you that’s made a creature like Clairmont willing to risk everything – his family, his freedom, his life?” she mused, studying Diana’s face. “He’s no young pup. He’s too old and canny a vampire to be carried away by lust or the desire for blood without a thought for the consequences. So what is it about your power that has him so intrigued?”

Diana blinked through the tears streaming from her tired, irritated eyes. “He loves me,” she responded, trying to catch her breath. “He doesn’t care about my power. I don’t even have any real power.”

Satu gave her a look that could strip paint. “I don’t believe you,” she retorted with another flick of her wrist, causing Diana to howl once again in pain as fire and razors scored her back through her clothes. “And we’re not going to stop until I know exactly what it is about your power that has a creature like him so interested.”

Diana, exhausted from the torment and fear, didn’t respond. She simply looked past Satu and, where before there had been nothing but an empty courtyard, a tree now stood with her father leaning up against its thick, round trunk. He smiled sadly at her, then put his index finger to his lips. “Shh,” Diana heard him say in her mind. “Who do we keep our secrets from, Diana?”

“Everyone,” she whispered before fainting dead away.

Sept-Tours, France

Matthew was frantic with worry. Diana was missing – no, taken – and her only hope of recovery was his goddamned step-brother, the bastard. Baldwin might have been the best tracker in the family, but Matthew just knew that the cost of involving him would be high. But Ysabeau was right: if it brought Diana home, then it was worth any price. And he knew they wouldn’t be able to get her back on their own – their fruitless searching throughout the day had proved that much.

Marthe handed Baldwin one of Diana’s sweaters, so he could immerse himself in her scent. He inhaled long and deep – thereby causing Matthew to growl quietly in reflexive possessiveness – then turned to his brother, a look of disgust on his face. “Fuck, Matthew, you really are pathetic, aren’t you?” he asked, practically spitting with rage. “You not only take up with a witch, knowing what they did to Father, but you also pick one that reminds you of Jerusalem, despite everything that happened there?”

“Now is not the time –” Matthew began.

“Now is the perfect time,” Baldwin cut in, throwing his brother a furious look. “You lost us a valuable ally over what, a witch? I smelled her all over you that day, stop trying to deny it. In addition to the blatant covenant violations less than a century after it was created, you also nearly cost us the city in all the chaos that followed. And now you’ve taken up with another of the foul creatures – mated with her, even! – and you just happened to pick one that smells like the first? Mark my words, Matthew, this is shaping up to be an even larger clusterfuck than that turned into…and I refuse to bail you out or let the rest of us suffer for your mistakes.”

“Rehash ancient history with me all you want after we have Diana back,” Matthew snarled, unable to contain his white-hot anger over his brother’s needling. “I swear to you, Baldwin, if she comes to harm because of your delays, I’ll have your head, de Clermont sire or no.”

“Fine, but once we have her back, I’m washing my hands of both of you,” Baldwin promised, eyes glinting and malicious. “Run and hide, for all I care, but you’re on your own – no one in the family will give either of you safe harbor.”

He stalked down to the garden, not waiting for anything further from Matthew. Once he’d examined the spot in the garden where Diana had been taken, he turned back to Ysabeau. “Where would a witch take another witch that is south and west of here?” he asked, tone frosty, but otherwise all business. He might have agreed to help only grudgingly and after Matthew threatened him with expulsion from Sept-Tours, but Baldwin had always taken his duty seriously. If he’d agreed to help find Diana, he’d do everything in his power to bring her home. The prospect of what followed, though, was enough to turn Matthew’s eyes black with fear and rage.

“It would depend on the reasons she was taken,” Ysabeau replied, her mouth frowning in concentration.

“Think, Maman,” Matthew urged her. “The witches want to keep Diana from me and punish us for breaking the covenant.”

Ysabeau shook her head. “No, my child,” she said, looking mournfully at Matthew. “You could be separated in so many ways. And if this was really about punishing you, they’d have taken you both. Leaving you free undermines their authority after you’ve committed such a breach. There is something else happening here.”

Matthew was desperate and in no mood to listen to reason. “Please, Maman. Where could she be?”

“There is nothing but barren mountains and goat tracks between here and the Cantal.” Her voice was like stone – the Cantal was Gerbert’s territory and they all knew exactly what awaited Diana if she was being held there.

“No, Peter Knox is far too interested in her to turn her over to Gerbert right away,” Baldwin declared, shaking his head. “He tried to hide it behind his concern for preserving the covenant, but you could see something beyond the normal witch’s avarice in his eyes when he spoke about her.” He stood there for a minute thinking while Matthew fidgeted with impatience. “There’s something we’re missing between here and the Cantal, there must be. Knox wouldn’t let Gerbert have her yet, I’m certain of it. Not without a chance to get what he’s after first.”

Ysabeau looked at him doubtfully. “There’s nothing but ruins.”

Baldwin exploded. “This is insane! We shouldn’t even be involved,” he thundered furiously. “Why can’t Matthew’s bloody witch defend herself?”

Matthew started to turn, unwilling to let the insult to Diana go when Marthe spoke from behind him. “Elle est enchantée.”

“What?!” he spluttered in shock. That’s not possible! I’ve seen her use magic right in front of me. He couldn’t make sense of it. You noticed something was wrong months ago, his traitorous mind supplied. And since finding her, have you ever seen her intentionally use her magic? Ever seen her choose it? Or has it always been an accident?

“The child is spellbound,” Ysabeau repeated forcefully. “We are certain of it. It’s not that she refuses her magic, like she told you – she’s been deliberately kept from it.”

He shook his head in confusion. “But why? It’s like defanging and declawing a tiger and then returning it to the jungle, leaving her without a way to properly defend herself. Who would do such a thing?” Witches view spellbinding as unforgivable. Who could do that to Diana and leave her unaware of it? And not just her, but her whole family?

Ysabeau looked at him in concern. “I can think of many people who might want to do such a thing – many reasons, too,” she finally responded after a long pause. “But I do not know her well enough to say. Call her family. Ask them.”

Matthew got out his phone and dialed Sarah. She answered on the first ring. “Matthew?!” she practically yelled as soon as she picked up. “Where is she? She’s in terrible pain, we can feel it.”

“We know where to look for her, Sarah,” Matthew said reassuringly, trying to calm her down enough to answer their questions. “But I need to ask you something first. Diana doesn’t use her magic.”

“That’s not a question. And I don’t see what it has to do with anything,” Sarah responded belligerently. Matthew waited impatiently, but didn’t interrupt. After a moment of silence, she sighed before continuing. “She hasn’t since her father died. What is it you actually want to know?”

“Is there a chance, Sarah – any chance at all – that Diana is spellbound?” Matthew probed as delicately as he could manage.

He heard a gasp before Sarah finally responded. “Spellbound?!” she echoed, sounding as aghast as Matthew had when Marthe had mentioned the theory. “Of course not!”

A soft click sounded on the other end of the line. “It was me...me and Stephen both,” Matthew heard an unfamiliar voice say. Who the hell is that? he wondered wildly. Is that Diana’s mother? But that was impossible, surely he couldn’t be understanding the situation correctly.

“What?!” he heard Sarah ask, echoing his own internal shock. “Rebecca, you couldn’t have.” Rebecca Bishop spellbound her own daughter? Matthew was as horrified as Sarah sounded.

“It was right before Stephen went to Africa that last time,” Rebecca explained quietly without even the slightest hint of shame. Matthew found his anger catching before it was immediately doused by her next statement. “We were frightened to death. We both knew he wouldn’t be coming back and it was the only way we could think of to keep her safe.”

“Safe from what? Rebecca –” Sarah objected, sounding impatient and mystified. Matthew could understand the sentiment, but the last thing he needed was to get sucked into yet another family argument – a different family, perhaps, but still just as potentially treacherous as his own, as this conversation had just proven – while Diana was still missing.

“We don’t have time for the full story,” Rebecca cut in to his relief. “The important thing isn’t ‘safe from what,’ it’s ‘safe until.’ And that’s safe until she and Matthew were together because Stephen and I couldn’t manage to protect her on our own, not once other witches had started to notice her – not once they realized what kind of power she possessed.”

Silence hung on the line for a moment as everyone processed what Rebecca had said. She let out a frustrated sigh. “There isn’t time for this now. Matthew – go. You still have time to save her, if you hurry. So go now, please.”

He swallowed and nodded to himself. “Alright, Dr. Bishop. Thank you. We’ll call with any news,” he agreed before hanging up the phone. He started heading for the door.

“Wait, Matthew,” Baldwin said, grabbing his brother’s arm.

Matthew wrenched it away with a snarl. “Let me go!”

“No. Stop and think,” Baldwin insisted, putting himself in front of his brother. “What were the castles between here and the Cantal? We only need to know the old castles, the ones Gerbert would be most familiar with.”

Matthew took a heaving breath, eyes wild. “Christ, Baldwin, I can’t remember. Now let me through!”

Baldwin refused, shaking his head. “If she’s spellbound, she’ll be a mystery to the witches holding her. If this is actually about her magic, like her mother believes, they’ll want somewhere isolated. Somewhere away from prying eyes – and vampire ears – where nobody will be likely to interrupt them. So, think: a castle, isolated, near the border, where the witches could take their time with her.”

Matthew reared back in shock. No. Dieu, no. “La Pierre,” he croaked, before speeding outside, Baldwin at his heels. We’re coming mon coeur. I swear to you, we’re coming.

Chapter Text

La Pierre, France
August 15, 1999

What is this place? Diana wondered, looking around the dank, underground room. Am I dreaming? She remembered little of the events that had led her here. Satu had eventually run out of patience and decided to fling Diana about the courtyard in retribution until her fragile head caught on a loose stone, knocking her unconscious. She had no idea how long it had been since then or when Satu was planning on returning. As she hobbled around, attempting to explore the dark room, she fought the sense of rising panic at her inability to find a single entrance or exit. It stank of death and she seemed to be fully entombed within it. How did I get in here? Did Satu brick the wall up behind me? And how will I ever escape without any light or a visible exit?

A breath of wind whispered across Diana’s shoulders, making her hair dance and tangle. She brushed a stray strand away from her face and looked up, seeing a dim charcoal disk in the ceiling, barely a shade lighter than the unremitting blackness surrounding it. As she concentrated on the mystery of the object, her skin began to shimmer and glow, providing some slight relief to the darkness. Countless ghosts encircled her, drawn to her magic and the novelty of a living person in their midst. All save one were dressed in thoroughly medieval garb – clerics and monks, knights and guards, and countless numbers of women stared at her, their wounds and visible mistreatment on full display. What is this place? What happened to all these people?

“It’s an oubliette – they were thrown down here and forgotten,” a familiar voice said from behind her, causing Diana to attempt to whirl around to see who had answered. She hissed in pain, moving more slowly until she’d rotated the full 180 degrees.

“Daddy?” she whimpered, finally seeing the ghost of her dead father standing before her. I must be dreaming.

“I’m sorry, Peanut, but you’re not dreaming, not right now. And you don’t have much time before Satu will be back.” The ghost of Stephen Proctor looked just like she’d remembered: curly hair, kind eyes, and slightly stooped shoulders.

“She’s going to kill me, isn’t she?” Diana asked, too weary to really care about the answer. “That or torture me until I wish I were dead already.”

“Not if you fight this, Diana,” he replied calmly. “Satu hurt you, then dropped you down this hole to soften you up, to make you too terrified to resist. But she doesn’t understand Bishop women, does she? You fight, no matter how scared you are – nothing cows you.”

“But how? I can’t get out, not without help,” she rasped, voice thick with dehydration and her earlier screams. “And Matthew doesn’t know where I am, he doesn’t even know I’ve been taken.” It was the thought of Matthew back at Sept-Tours, waiting for her and confused by her extended absence, that brought tears back to her eyes. He won’t know what’s happened to me until it’s too late. Will they even tell him once they’ve killed me? Or will they leave him to wonder where I am forever?

The ghost approached her, crouching down so she could look him full in the face. “Do you remember the story your mom and I used to tell you when you were a little girl? The one about the Shadow Prince and the little witch all tied in ribbons?”

Diana nodded, frowning as she attempted to recall the details. “She was locked inside, so she flew out through the hole in the roof. But, Daddy, I can’t fly – I’m no good at magic.”

He looked at her sadly, then shook his head. “You can do more than you ever dreamed, Diana. But you have to believe – believe and not be afraid to try.”

“Diana?!” she heard a voice call from above her. Matthew? Two dark figures she couldn’t fully make out stood to either side of the entrance of the oubliette. “Christ, I’m coming down.”

“No, Matthew,” the other figure protested. “You might be able to get down there, but I won’t be able to get you back out – you’d be handing yourself over as a second hostage. We need to find a way to get her out and fast. They’ll be back for her soon.” Satu will find us all here and she’ll have three hostages, not two.

“Not if you fly out, Diana,” her father’s fading form told her. “Remember, you can do more than you think you can – you just have to be willing to try.”

She swallowed roughly and nodded, refocusing her attention on the two men bickering several dozen feet above her head. Magic is desire made real, she reminded herself, calling back to afternoon lessons with Em before she’d gotten old enough to refuse. She took a big breath in, then closed her eyes. And right now my only desire is to find myself in Matthew’s arms.

“What’s she doing?” the unfamiliar voice asked, sounding shocked.

“Flying,” Matthew breathed, barely above a whisper. “Christ. You’re almost there, Diana. Just a bit farther –”

His voice cut off as cool hands closed around her wrists and arms, hauling her out of the hole once her body suddenly started to drop. She cried out in pain as Matthew held her to his chest and ran. Looking over at the other vampire, she gasped. “I thought you were a ghost.” He shot her a startled look before she fainted again, overcome by pain, stress, and blood loss.

Sept-Tours, France

Diana woke when the helicopter was less than a minute from landing at Sept-Tours. Matthew had started panicking when she fainted in his arms, but Baldwin’s cold blooded practicality had gotten them all through it. Matthew was more thankful than he’d ever been in his too long life for his brother’s ruthlessness and lack of sentimentality. He knew he’d never have found Diana without Baldwin’s help, loath as he was to admit it aloud. Thank God she’s home, he silently prayed as his mother and Marthe followed him inside. He was dreading what he’d find when he removed her clothes to tend to her injuries. Please give me the strength to do what she needs and not lose myself to the rage.

She was shaking like a leaf by the time they got her up to Matthew’s tower. “Marthe, get my medical bag: I’m going to need morphine to start, then most likely an antibiotic, anti-inflammatory, and diuretic, depending on the full extent of her injuries.”

“Matthew, she’s filthy – you cannot even see her injuries,” Ysabeau protested, following behind him. “We should draw a bath –”

“Not yet,” he cut in, trying and failing not to snap at his mother in his frustration. She’s just trying to help, he reminded himself. “Morphine first, for the pain. No matter how gentle we are, it’s going to hurt and I won’t have her suffer needlessly. Not after what that witch put her through.”

Ysabeau nodded and headed for the bathroom to draw a warm bath while Marthe fetched his things. Diana continued shaking, making her teeth rattle like she was coming apart at the seams. Shock, Matthew realized absently, and pain and fear. He knelt down in front of her, taking her cheeks in his hands and looking straight into her eyes. Damaged, but not broken. Thank God. He breathed a small sigh of relief. “You’re safe, mon coeur – safe and whole. No one else can harm you here. I will not allow it.”

“Matthew, I –” her voice broke and she blinked back tears. She swallowed roughly. “I didn’t think you’d come for me – that you’d be able to come for me. I disappear all the time, how did you know I’d been taken? Did Gerbert or Domenico call you to gloat?”

If he’d still been human, his blood would have run cold at the question – as it was, rage clouded his vision, nearly blinding him. “Marthe saw the witch grab you from the garden, but not the direction she was headed,” he explained as soothingly as he could manage. “Gerbert was there?”

Diana nodded. “Satu – the witch who took me – said they were going to give me to him once she was done.”

Matthew had to work to keep the growl from his voice. She’s been scared enough, she doesn’t need me adding to it. “Did he touch you?” he asked when he could finally trust himself to speak.

“Just on the cheek,” she whispered, making him reflexively reach out to wipe away the lingering memory of a strange, hostile vampire on her skin. “Satu sent them away before she started questioning me.”

Marthe returned, placing Matthew’s medical bag at his elbow. He removed scissors, alcohol wipes, a syringe, and a bottle of morphine. “I’m so sorry, but I need to cut your pullover to administer the morphine. Is that alright? The painkillers will help with the shock and make it easier to remove your clothes and treat your injuries.” He wasn’t going to start, however, until she agreed. She’d had enough people touching her without her consent for today.

She nodded resolutely, as if steeling herself against what was coming. So brave, even now. He slit the arm of her sweater until it was barely hanging off her, exposing countless scrapes and abrasions, a few nasty contusions, and several deep, deliberate gashes. They reminded him sickeningly of the kind of injuries he’d inflicted on other creatures at the behest of one master or another over the centuries. The smell of her blood and fear was making him almost physically ill, knowing it had all happened on his watch. He pushed it aside with an immense effort. She can’t have you falling apart. She needs you to take care of her, not the other way around.

Using an alcohol wipe, he disinfected her inner elbow, causing her to wince. “I’m sorry, I know it stings. But we’re almost there,” he reassured her, dropping the wipe and filling the syringe. “Just a small pinch now.” In a matter of moments, he’d administered the drug and her body sagged in relief as it flooded her system. “See? All better.”

Diana gave him a tentative smile as he stroked her hair for a moment. “My brave, brave girl,” he murmured, eyes welling with tears. “I was so scared I’d lost you.”

“I’m harder to get rid of than that,” she croaked, one corner of her mouth turned up in an echo of her usual bright smile.

“Thank God,” he said, voice cracking with emotion. With an almost herculean effort, he pulled himself out of the dark place his thoughts were headed. “Let’s get you into the bath. I think we’ll need to soak the shirt off your back, if the amount of dried blood I smell is any indication. Once you’re clean, I’ll bandage you up, so you can rest. Alright?”

She nodded in agreement, so Matthew picked her up, careful to put as little pressure on her injured back as possible. She sighed as he lowered her into the water, the shaking lessening with each passing moment. He started on her shoes, causing her to first wince, then whimper in pain and he attempted to remove them. A charcoal black ring was burned into a hideously swollen ankle, alternately flaking and oozing in places. The sight made Matthew want to retch. He swallowed reflexively, struggling to hide his rage behind his impassive doctor’s facade. She needs you to heal her, to comfort her, he reminded himself. It’s not up to her to be the one to comfort you.

Using the scissors, he carefully removed her sweater, shirt, and leggings, leaving only her bra and underwear behind. The long, deep gashes covered both arms – he catalogued each and every one, comparing them to the scars he’d seen over the centuries as she’d visited him in the past. He’d known this day was coming, but actually seeing it in the flesh was far more dreadful than he could have possibly imagined.

Picking her up and draining the tub, Marthe and Ysabeau helped him remove the last of her clothes and gently dry her off. Her back was even worse than he’d pictured – he knew the brand was seared into her skin, but you couldn’t tell with all the other damage. She looked like she’d been flayed alive: back raw and bleeding, not to mention black and blue with bruising and burns. His eyes went round, eyes fully dilated, for an instant as his blood rage threatened to overtake him. But then she reached up to hold the moon pendant between her breasts, the token of love and devotion he’d made for her so long ago, and his sanity returned.

Diana began to shake once more with the cold, reminding Matthew of his role here. Doctor, not lover. Caregiver, not husband. Once she was wrapped in gauze, cracked ribs bound, cuts sutured, and medications administered, he went to take his own shower and change into clean clothes. Ysabeau and Marthe would stay with her and he refused to talk to his brother covered in his mate’s blood. They’re all dead, he silently vowed, an echo of every promise he’d made to himself every time he’d glimpsed her scarred back over the years. Every single last one of them.

As he stalked downstairs, clean but damp, he let himself imagine the myriad ways he’d take his pound of flesh. He’d smelled both Domenico and Gerbert at La Pierre, though not strongly – they must have departed before the magic started flying – along with an unknown witch, though not Peter Knox, oddly enough. It doesn’t matter, he decided fiercely, they’ll all pay. Every injury to her body, I’ll take from them tenfold. Every terror inflicted on her mind, they’ll receive in kind. None of them will walk away from this, let alone unscathed.

He found Baldwin in Philippe’s office, peering down at his laptop. His brother looked up and nodded in greeting. “How is she?”

“I’ll rip their goddamned heads off,” Matthew growled. “Gerbert, Domenico, Knox – they’re all dead.”

“No you won’t,” Baldwin objected, eyes snapping in frustration. “I refuse to allow you to declare war on the Congregation on behalf of our family. And don’t delude yourself, that’s exactly what you’d be doing if you go after any one of them.”

“They took my wife from our home, our territory,” Matthew snarled, unwilling to back down and fueled by his righteous fury. “Domenico knew we were mated, he smelled it on me when he came to deliver his ultimatum – making her abduction a direct challenge to the entire family. They then held and tortured her for hours before dropping her down a sixty foot hole. God only knows what they would have done if we hadn’t found her when we did. She’s lucky to be alive. I cannot let them live after that.” And I promised myself centuries ago that I’d make whoever did this pay. Not even Philippe himself could convince me to break that vow, not forever. And you are no Philippe.

Baldwin stood suddenly, as if preparing for Matthew to attack him. “And I will not let you drag the rest of us into a war we cannot not win. Not over some witch,” he spat disgustedly. “Take her to her mother and aunts – let them protect her. We cannot continue to keep her here, not if you want either of you to remain free for long.”

Matthew opened his mouth to respond, but a faint noise from upstairs caught his attention and he instead turned on his heel and stalked out of the room. Unwilling to continue fighting with his brother – knowing just how much he couldn’t say was making him practically choke on every word he did utter – and unable to remain separated from Diana for any longer, he raced back up the stairs to the safety of his tower. He sat down next to her and began to stroke her hair, murmuring endearments and whispering lullabies in every language he could remember, willing her to relax and let herself sleep. She fought it, but eventually nodded off, succumbing to the terrors and stresses of the day.

Once she was resting comfortably – or as comfortably as is possible with a flayed back, he thought grimly – he walked down to his office so that he could call her family. “Matthew?!” Sarah practically shouted, answering on the first ring. “Is she safe, what’s going on?”

“I got her back, Sarah. She’s injured, but nothing life-threatening, I promise,” he reassured her. “I’ve treated her as best I can, but it’ll take time for her to fully recover.”

“I want to talk to her,” she demanded loudly, making Matthew’s ears ache.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration. “She’s asleep – I had to give her some morphine...some of her injuries are rather painful, I’m afraid.”

Another line clicked into life. “You need to bring her home,” Rebecca Bishop said, sounding unaccountably calm.

Matthew growled, almost too low for the phone to pick up. Almost. “And where exactly have you been since last September?” he snarled, unable to contain his anger. “And why haven’t you called Diana? She’s been alternating between worried sick that something happened to you and terrified that you hated her and never wanted to see her again. You missed your own daughter’s birthday, for God’s sake.”

“Don’t you dare growl at me, Matthew de Clermont,” Rebecca snapped, voice full of frost. “I don’t care who you are – don’t you ever question my love for Diana again. I would burn the world to the ground to keep her safe.”

“You have a funny way of showing it,” he muttered, surprised at her vehemence. This is not the Rebecca Bishop that Diana has described to me over the past year. I should have listened to my instincts, I knew there was something strange about what she’s said about her mother.

“You know nothing about what I’ve done to protect my daughter,” Rebecca insisted, volume barely above a whisper, but in no way tentative. “Now bring her home as soon as she’s safe to travel. You won’t like it if you make me come get her. I don’t care how many witches your mother has killed, I will walk into that house and get her myself if I have to.” Christ.

“I can arrange a plane to bring us both tomorrow morning,” Matthew offered, hoping to forestall further argument. “I wouldn’t feel comfortable moving her before then.”

He heard a long, relieved breath at the other end of the line. He couldn’t tell which Bishop sister had uttered it. “Good. We’ll be expecting you.”

“Before I go, know this: I haven’t said anything to her about the spellbinding yet,” Matthew warned, his tone harsh. “She’s in no state for that kind of conversation at the moment. But you’d better have a damned good explanation, Dr. Bishop, for both your daughter and me. Don’t think I won’t rip your throat out if you hurt her again.”

“You think I answer to you?” Rebecca Bishop sounded almost amused at the threat, further stoking his anger.

“When it comes to Diana and her safety, yes. And I’ll take apart anyone who threatens her, even you,” he promised, voice little better than a snarl, before hanging up the phone. His mind whirled with the events of the day and the implications of what he’d learned about Rebecca Bishop and he began to wonder with trepidation what exactly would be waiting for them in New York when they arrived the next day.

Chapter Text

Madison, New York
August 16, 1999

Diana loved her aunts, but she always felt strange returning to Madison. Something about being in her childhood home with the women who raised her always made her feel like a little kid again, no matter how old she got or how much time had passed. And that feeling was only magnified whenever her mother was present.

“Everything alright, mon coeur?” Matthew asked from the doorway to their bedroom.

Diana nodded absently. Em had insisted they stay together in her parents’ old room in the note she and Sarah had left downstairs. I guess Mom’s planning on staying in Em’s old room? I doubt she’d want to be up in the attic, she thought with a snort, remembering the tiny twin bed she’d slept in for years.

He came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her in a gentle hug, careful of her back and arm. “What’s wrong?” he asked as he stroked her shoulders with his cool hands.

“I’m just not sure if I’m ready to face them yet,” she admitted with a sigh. “I haven’t seen my mom in almost a year…and the past twenty four hours have been overwhelming, to say the least.” She’d gotten a further taste of de Clermont travel on their way to New York from France. Between the diplomatic passports and the private jet, it had been as smooth an experience as was possible, but the time change, the more than five hour drive once they’d landed, and her injuries had left her feeling drained nonetheless. She was exhausted and dreading the inevitable fight that always happened anytime all three Bishop women were under the same roof. The last thing I need today is family drama. Not that Sarah has ever listened or Mom has ever cared.

Matthew placed a kiss on the top of her head, then turned her around to face him. “I’ll be there with you, every step of the way,” he promised, cradling her face in his hands. “Let’s go downstairs, so they can all come inside.”

Diana nodded. Time to be brave, she thought, sighing again. Let’s just get this over with. It can’t be any worse than hiding up here, waiting for the axe to fall.

Matthew had been curious about Rebecca Bishop ever since he’d found Diana in Oxford last September. He’d heard about the witch and her extraordinary abilities, of course – everyone in their world knew who she was – but he’d never met her. And what he knew about the woman was at fairly extreme odds with Diana’s own descriptions of her mother. So, which was right? He’d spent the better part of a year wondering. It looks like I may finally be about to find out, he realized as the women gathered in the kitchen, once introductions were complete. Rebecca had largely stayed quiet so far – letting her younger, brasher sister do most of the talking, but still keeping a watchful eye on all the creatures present. She exuded a sense of protective vigilance that was almost vampiric in its intensity. Interesting. Very, very interesting.

“Sarah, let’s get Diana all fixed up before you start grilling her husband for information,” Rebecca finally said, looking between him and her daughter. Matthew’s surprise mirrored the shock on Diana’s face at having their news so casually revealed.

Sarah turned to her sister, a look of complete astonishment on her face. “Husband? Since when are they married?”

Rebecca turned to Diana and raised her eyebrows. “That’s a good question, Sarah. Africa or no, vampire or no – and don’t think we won’t be having that conversation later, young lady – I’d have thought I’d be invited,” she commented, her sardonic tone of voice at odds with her guarded expression. So she can tell that we’re married, she just hasn’t seen any of the details. Curious. But she doesn’t seem angry or overly concerned at the news, he noted, cautiously optimistic. Maybe this reunion won’t be as bad as Diana fears.

Matthew tangled his fingers with Diana’s and looked down at her, sitting in the chair. “There wasn’t a ceremony...and we haven’t filed the necessary paperwork to make it legally binding to human authorities,” he explained slowly. “But Diana is my wife, at least according to vampire custom.”

“And to me,” Diana insisted, voice unwavering despite her injuries and evident fatigue. She looked up at him. “I’m no less your wife among witches as among vampires.”

Matthew squeezed her hand reassuringly as her aunts whispered among each other, digesting this new information. I love you, he said silently, willing her to hear and understand. She nodded slightly, making him smile down at her. “As much as I hate to rush you, Diana is exhausted and in pain. I’d like to get her back up to bed as soon as we can. I promise, you can interrogate me for as long as you like once she’s feeling better.” He looked up, regarding the other witches with a carefully neutral expression.

Sarah opened her mouth to argue – she clearly didn’t like him telling her what to do – but a sharp look from Rebecca made her close her mouth without complaint. She instead continued her grumbling under her breath as she collected supplies. Sarah might be louder, but she clearly took her cues from her older sister. “You’ll need to remove the shirt,” she prompted matter-of-factly. Matthew was worried Diana would object, but she started working the buttons without a hint of protest.

Sarah began assessing Diana’s injuries to figure out which were the worst, all the while mumbling dire threats against everyone involved in the abduction including, but not limited to, Matthew himself. After mending Diana’s fractured collarbone, swollen cheek, bruised skull, mangled ankle, and cut up arms, Sarah had started to work up a sweat and the offhand comments had largely subsided. Diana started getting agitated, however, once they began discussing treatments for her flayed back.

“Honey, who did this to you?” Rebecca asked, interrupting their discussions by crouching down next to Diana. “I saw the pain and the darkness, Matthew’s rescue...but I never saw the witch’s face who held you.”

Diana looked at her mother, then over at Matthew before answering. “She said her name was Satu Järvinen.”

Rebecca nodded slowly. “She’s one of the witches on the Congregation. Was anyone else present? Peter Knox, perhaps?” she probed, firmly but gently.

“No.” Diana shook her head. “I haven’t seen Knox since we left Oxford. But there were two vampires when we arrived – Domenico Michele and Gerbert. They left, though, before Satu...before she got started. Why?” Her wide eyes were fixed on her mother, so they didn’t see Matthew’s pained expression. He didn’t think he’d ever forgive himself for letting this happen to her.

“It doesn’t matter, not right now,” Rebecca replied with a small frown and a glint of steel in her eyes. Matthew felt the room practically crackle with power as her expression shifted and he gave a small, involuntary shudder. It was suddenly very, very clear to him that all three creatures’ lives had just shortened precipitously. Baldwin was right, that woman is terrifying, he realized, barely suppressing his instinct to take a step back as she regarded him coolly. No wonder he was so leery of offending her. If Philippe were still alive, he’d be thrilled to have her as part of the family, witch or no. We’d be lucky to make it through her lifetime without him making her a vampire. His father had always preferred his daughters to be strong and, frankly, scary as hell. Matthew could see Rebecca fitting in perfectly with Freyja – so named for the goddess of war and death – or Verin with her many knives. How on earth could Diana have possibly misjudged her mother so badly?

Diana shook her head, unwilling to be put off. “No, Mom. Now,” she insisted stubbornly. Matthew privately agreed with Rebecca, but wasn’t stupid enough to get between them. Not unless I have to, anyway. “It seemed like she hated you. Like really hated you. She kept asking over and over if you knew and whether you approved, then got angrier and angrier the more I insisted that I hadn’t told you yet. It was almost like she was hoping I’d say you’d given us your blessing or something.”

Rebecca sighed, sounding exasperated. “She considers me a rival. We were both nominated for the same seat on the Congregation when it came open a few years ago,” she explained to Diana’s visible surprise. “She’s felt threatened by me ever since because she knows that Peter preferred me to her at the time – still probably does, knowing the man – and lobbied hard for me to get it instead.”

Diana gaped at her mother in shock. “What, you? You were nominated for a seat on the Congregation? By Peter Knox? And you’d have taken it?” she asked, sounding utterly betrayed. Matthew understood why – the woman hadn’t ever even told her about the Congregation and its rules and yet had been willing to accept a place on it, one offered by the man who’d harassed and threatened her.

“It wasn’t out of any love for either Peter or the institution, I can assure you. I was hoping to be able to protect you – the both of you.” Rebecca stood up with another sigh. “But now isn’t the time for the full story. We can discuss it later, once you’re feeling better, I promise. Let’s get those bandages off of you, so Sarah can look at your back.”

Diana looked ready to argue, but then visibly deflated. She shook her head. “Not right now, it can wait,” she insisted, shooting Matthew a look asking for his support. “Sarah’s tired and so am I.” That was all Matthew needed to know exactly how confused, exhausted, and in pain his wife was. She’d never have let her mother off the hook so quickly if she wasn’t in bad shape.

Sarah took in Diana’s state, then looked over at Matthew. “What do you think?” she asked him, unwilling to get between mother and daughter.

“I agree with Rebecca,” he said without taking his eyes off of Diana. “I want you to treat her back. Please.”

“No,” she whispered, looking at him with something akin to betrayal and sat there, clutching the shirt to her chest, as if trying to ward off what was coming next. It made his heart clench in sympathy, but he held firm. She needs this, he told himself. She’ll recover more quickly, if it’s treated. And it has to be terribly painful right now, given all the damage.

Matthew reached out and stroked her cheek, looking her in the eye. “You’ve seen what Sarah can do,” he murmured gently, trying to convince her to accept help – a difficult proposition, even at the best of times. “Your recovery will be faster and go smoother if you let her help you. Please, mon coeur.” He slowly extricated the shirt from her hands, giving each a small kiss when they relaxed.

He held one hand and Rebecca held the other as Sarah began to remove the gauze, slicing through it with a muttered spell. Diana flinched at the witch’s tingling gazes as they flickered across their skin. Momentarily distracted from the ruin that was her niece’s back, Sarah’s eyes widened as she caught sight of the small, silvery scar on Diana’s left breast. “You fucking animal,” she hissed furiously. “Get the hell away from her!” Dieu, I forgot about the mark over her heart vein, he thought, silently kicking himself for his stupidity. Of course they’d think the worst when they saw it. They don’t know what it means to a vampire, how it’s different from a bite on the neck or arm.

Her words sent the room exploding into chaos. Rebecca and Diana stood up, startled, as Sarah tried to pull her niece away from Matthew, murmuring spells under her breath as she prepared to attack him. A wind started to rise and Diana’s eyes took on an otherworldly quality he’d never seen before. “Back off, Sarah.” Diana’s voice had gone cold and she seemed very far away from herself, making Matthew’s eyes widen in surprise and alarm at the change in her demeanor.

“Diana, he bit you!” Sarah yelled, trying to get close, but finding her way blocked by the witchwind Diana was kicking up. “He’s feeding off of you! Using you.”

Diana looked down at her hands and the room suddenly smelled of sulfur. Rebecca’s voice cut through the commotion. “Sarah, stop. Now. She’s not in control of herself. Don’t push her.”

Sarah wasn’t convinced. “How the hell can you be so calm about this, Rebecca?” she snarled wildly, lashing out at her sister. “He’s hurting her.”

“Sarah, he’s not,” Rebecca insisted urgently. “And if you persist in threatening him, she’s likely to burn the entire house down with all of us in it. I don’t know about you, but I don’t feel like dying today.”

Diana’s arms raised, like she was aiming a bow. “Holy shit,” Sarah breathed. She put her hands up in a placating gesture and stepped back, trying to calm her niece. “Alright. Diana, honey...it’s okay. I’ll leave Matthew alone.”

“Diana,” Rebecca said, taking a cautious step forward, “you need to put the fire down. Matthew’s safe. Nobody’s mad. But I know you don’t want to hurt anyone. So please put it down.”

Diana looked at her hands, then back at Matthew. “It’s okay, Diana,” he tried to reassure her. “Just calm down.”

“I don’t like it when she threatens you,” she protested, her voice still hollow. “She wanted to hurt you.”

“I’m fine,” he insisted, trying to keep his tone light and easy. “See?” He carefully took hold of one hand and placed a kiss on it. “Nobody is going to hurt me, I promise.” Diana finally relaxed and threw herself into Matthew’s arms, sobbing. He cradled her carefully against his body, worried about hurting her back. Thank God for Rebecca Bishop, Matthew thought to himself. I’m not sure we’d have all made it out alive without her.

“What the hell was that? Witchwind? And witchfire?” Sarah asked incredulously. “Since when does Diana have power over witchfire, of all things?” She shook her head, then looked at Matthew sharply. “How long has she been like this? So wild and out of control?”

Matthew glared back at her. “We can discuss this all later. Her back is still injured and she’s about to collapse.” He pulled Diana over to the chair. “Ma lionne, please sit and let Sarah finish,” he requested while stroking her face.

Diana complied, eyes remaining on Matthew as they pulled off the rest of the gauze. Em and Sarah gasped once her back was fully exposed. “This is an opening spell,” Sarah observed angrily, staring at the marks. “You don’t ever use this on living beings. She could have killed you.”

“It’s how they killed Stephen,” Rebecca croaked, voice nearly unrecognizable. It was the first time Matthew had heard her lethal confidence slip, her words and tone making his blood run cold. He looked up at her sharply – her face was a mask of grief as she surveyed her daughter’s ruined back. Never again, he vowed to himself.

“She was trying to get my magic out – like a piñata,” Diana explained, a wild laugh escaping from her lips, sounding like she was about to dissolve into hysterics.

Matthew turned to face her, worried. “The quicker you can do this, the better, Sarah,” he prompted, trying to short-circuit the conversation out of concern for Diana’s mental state. The strain on her had become more and more noticeable with each passing minute and he wanted this done and over with as soon as possible. “I don’t mean to rush you, but we can talk about Satu later.”

Sarah nodded and continued to work, causing Diana to draw further and further into herself. “Are you almost done?” Matthew asked when Sarah paused again.

“There are two marks I can’t do much with,” she said, indicating the spots on Diana’s back. “They’ll leave scars.”

Matthew moved to look and stopped cold, suddenly filled with overwhelming fury. He’d known the brand would be there when he saw her flayed back and Sept-Tours, but he hadn’t been prepared for the rage he’d feel when confronted with red welts in the image of a crescent moon and star. He remembered the photos Peter Knox had sent to her in Oxford and the message the envelope had contained. That witch must have decided that warning others off wasn’t enough, that she needed to be physically marked too. He took a steadying breath, then handed Diana back her shirt as she looked at him in shock.

“I don’t think the scars will be too bad,” Sarah remarked defensively, misinterpreting their silence as disappointment.

“I’m so sorry,” Diana murmured once she’d put the shirt back on.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Matthew insisted hotly. “Nothing.” He took her face in his hands and kissed her softly. I’m the one who should be apologizing. This is my fault.

He stroked her hair reassuringly as the other witches watched them, confused. “Any vampire would know you were mine – with or without the brand on your back. Satu wanted to make sure that every other creature knew who you belonged to, as well. When I was reborn, they used to shear the hair from the heads of women who gave their bodies to the enemy. It was a crude way of exposing traitors. This is no different.”

Matthew gathered her up in his arms, then turned to her mother and aunts to explain. “She marked Diana with my personal seal – one I use when performing certain duties on behalf of my family,” he told them, voice filled with pain and regret. “It was as much a punishment for Diana as a message to me.”

They all stood there, stunned until Diana started to shift uncomfortably. “I’m taking Diana up to bed,” he announced before anyone could ask any more questions. “The rest of this can wait until she’s feeling a bit better.”

Chapter Text

Madison, New York
August 16, 1999

Diana woke from her nap to a muffled conversation in the hallway outside. She reached for Matthew on the other side of the bed, but he was missing. She was too groggy to sit up, so she lay there with her eyes closed listening to the voices as they became more and more distinct.

“It’s appalling,” a deep, angry voice that must be Matthew’s snapped. “How could you let her go on this way?”

“We didn’t know about the extent of her power – not absolutely,” another voice – Sarah, she realized – said, sounding equally furious. “She was bound to be different, given her heritage, but she became a different child after Stephen died, withdrawing so far that nobody could reach her. What should we have done? Forced her to face what she was so determined to deny?”

“And you? Sarah and Emily might have been ignorant of what was going on with her, but you knew,” Matthew practically growled. “She may have inherited your abilities – and your husband’s along with them, God help her – but she doesn’t have either of your knowledge and without it she’s helpless. She might as well have had a target painted on her back. And you did that to her. Knowingly.”

“I was protecting her,” a third voice – her mother’s – shot back. “Without Stephen, there wasn’t much I could do to either teach her or lift the spellbinding. And her ignorance has protected her, no matter what you may think – it kept her virtually invisible while she was most vulnerable.”

“That witch held her for more than twelve hours.” Matthew’s voice rose. “The Congregation has been playing cat-and-mouse games, but the mark on Diana’s back indicates those days are over.”

“How dare you call what happened to my daughter a game?”

“Stop, both of you. You’ll wake her and this isn’t helping,” Em said, shushing the others.

Diana heard the conversation pause, her mind reeling from what she’d already accidentally overheard. Spellbound? she wondered. How could I be spellbound? Since when? She shook her head, trying to understand. It made no sense…she’d always been terrible at magic, yes, but she’d used her powers. Spellbound witches couldn’t do magic of any kind. Nothing. They must be mistaken. They had to be mistaken.

“What might help is to understand how Diana is spellbound. Rebecca, what did you and Stephen do to her?” Matthew asked, still sounding agitated despite Em’s urging to keep the conversation calm and quiet.

There it was again. Spellbound. Her heart hammered in her throat. Diana started to stand up, slowly, but wanting answers too badly to stay in bed any longer. By the time she’d gotten to her feet, Matthew was through the door and standing by her side, frowning at her in concern. “What do you need?”

“I want to talk to my mother.” Her fingers were itching and snapping, starting to turn blue with the frustration and anger building inside her. She walked past Matthew into the hallway to join the conversation. “What’s wrong with me?” Diana demanded from the assembled witches.

Emily crept into the crook of Sarah’s arm. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“I heard you all out here. You said I’m spellbound. That she – ” Diana pointed at her mother, fingers blazing, “ – and my father spellbound me. You don’t do that to someone for no reason. Especially not your own child.” Her voice broke on the last word, unable to keep the pain of their betrayal from overwhelming her. I must be some sort of monster. It’s the only possible explanation.

“You’re not a monster, Diana,” Rebecca said with a sigh, hearing her silent words. “We did it because we were afraid for you.”

“You were afraid of me, you mean.” She tried and failed to hide her fingers, still sparking, from view.

“Nobody is afraid of you,” Matthew said. He touched her shoulder in reassurance, but she pulled away, witchwind starting to rise.

“Diana, you have every right to feel frustrated,” he said soothingly. “And to feel trapped. You’ve had a difficult couple of days.” He took a step back and the wind started to drop off, the snapping in her fingers likewise fading.

“Then why?” she practically whispered, looking questioningly at her mother. “If I wasn’t dangerous, why would you and Daddy do that to me?”

Rebecca reached out and touched her daughter’s shoulder, but Diana flinched away, unwilling to let her mother touch her. How could you? she thought, blinking back angry tears. The betrayal cut deep.

Rebecca sighed and closed her eyes for a moment, then took a long, calming breath before finally answering. Diana could tell her rejection stung. Good. It’s the absolute least you deserve – you’ve earned all that and more for tying me in knots and then abandoning me. Who does that to their own child? “It’s complicated. And really hard to talk about, even after all these years. But I love you, Diana. We both loved you so, so much. Everything we did, we did to protect you.”

“Let’s go down to the living room,” Em motioned for everyone to follow her toward the stairs. “I’ll make some tea and you can explain.”

“You’d better,” Diana heard Sarah mutter. Her aunt sounded almost as angry as Diana herself felt and she could feel the rage rolling off of Matthew in waves. Maybe he’ll rip her head off, she thought bitterly as they all traipsed downstairs. I’m not even sure Sarah would try to stop him, though Em would probably protest.

Matthew held Diana’s hand as they all filed down the stairs, giving it a reassuring squeeze whenever she looked back at him. He was worried about her – the strain of the last few days showed on her face and she was still clearly in some pain – but he knew that she wouldn’t be able to rest with this hanging over her. She needs answers, he reflected. But then so do I. Rebecca Bishop better have had a damn good reason for all of this, he thought angrily to himself, his expression thunderous. Because I’m damn well not keeping her here, no matter what her mother wants, if it’s just going to continue to hurt her. Em started preparing tea for Rebecca and Diana while they all took their seats and got comfortable.

“I’m not entirely sure where to begin,” Rebecca explained as they settled in. “I guess it all started when I was a teenager. Sarah said you’d met Peter Knox in Oxford?” She looked inquiringly at Matthew and Diana as Em brought a glass of wine over for Matthew before distributing mugs to the rest of them.

“Unfortunately,” Diana said as both she and Matthew nodded.

“He’s always been a power-hungry creep,” Rebecca continued, mouth pursed into a thin line, face looking tired and worn. “We met when I was in college and he just wouldn’t leave me alone. He’s fascinated by higher magics, the darker the better. I already had a reputation as a powerful witch, so he sought me out and wouldn’t take no for an answer when I demanded that he back off.” She paused, taking a sip of tea.

“I eventually told him that if he didn’t cut it out, I’d hex him so badly that he’d never even be able to approach another woman, let alone harass her.” She smiled triumphantly at the memory for a brief moment, then her expression turned grave once again. “But it didn’t last. He started popping up again after Stephen and I got engaged. I guess he’d been keeping tabs on me. And it got worse after you were born.”

Rebecca glanced briefly at Sarah and Em before turning back to face Diana. “I started getting disturbing visions about him shortly after you turned six. Your powers were flourishing and we thought he sensed that. He started lobbying to have you tested, even though you were nowhere near old enough.”

What kind of testing? And why? He’d never heard of such a thing. Rebecca turned to Matthew to explain, seeing the confusion that must have been written across his face. Or hearing my thoughts. It wouldn’t surprise him if Rebecca Bishop turned out to be a mind reader – he’d seen the ability on Diana’s genetics report, though he hadn’t had a chance to do a workup on her mother yet. “Witches are tested when they come of age, usually at around thirteen. Six or seven is absurdly young, most haven’t manifested their full range of power by that point. He was insistent and again refused to take no for an answer, but this time he had a seat on the Congregation, which meant official backing.”

Rebecca paused again, studying her daughter. “We did our best to refuse and fend him off, but he was persistent. Ultimately there wasn’t much we could do except delay him, so it all came to a head a couple of months before your seventh birthday. I’m pretty sure that once he confirmed you were just as powerful he believed that he was planning to kill us both and take you – to raise you himself as a way of controlling your magic once you were grown.”

She looked down at her hands, watching the steam curl from the mug of tea. “So we decided to bind them before he could examine you. I’d known you would meet Matthew – I’d been seeing him for years at that point, though not in detail. So we tied the binding to him, but also to need.” She looked up, straight into Diana’s eyes. “You’d have them when you truly needed them, but nobody would be able to force them out of you, not even you. Once you and Matthew started getting close, the bindings would begin to loosen – he’d be able to help protect you and you’d be old enough to learn to protect yourself. When we finally allowed Peter to examine you, he didn’t find anything. Our plan had worked, you were safe.”

She paused once more, hesitating, eyes darting about the room for a minute – she clearly wasn’t sure that she wanted to share what came next. “But it came at a cost. We knew that if he couldn’t find the power in Diana, he’d assume it was Stephen’s. He’d coveted my power for years, but it wasn’t exactly a mystery – for better or worse, I’d been very open about my abilities in my youth. Stephen, on the other hand, had always been much more private. We knew Peter would come after us, but we were prepared to sacrifice ourselves if it meant you’d be kept safe.” She took a long, steadying breath before continuing. “But then we found out I was pregnant.” A sharp movement to the side drew his attention away from Diana and her mother – they were all stunned, but Em looked particularly shaken, a hand covering her mouth and wide, horrified eyes.

Rebecca’s own eyes welled with tears as she turned to face her sister. “Do you remember our original plan for that trip? Stephen and I were both supposed to go, but then I decided to stay behind and join Diana for her visit here.”

Sarah and Em both nodded. “We were surprised when you decided not to go with him, it wasn’t like you to skip something like that, especially at the last minute and without an explanation or some other scheduling conflict. Then later, when we heard what happened to Stephen, we were just so relieved that you hadn’t been there. The near miss gave me nightmares for years,” Sarah confessed, reaching over and grabbing Em’s hand.

“Stephen begged me that whole summer not to come with him,” Rebecca continued, unable to look anyone in the face. “He promised he’d find a way by himself to make sure that Peter had no reason to suspect he’d been misled, but I insisted. I tried to keep the baby a secret – stupid, I know – but I just knew that once he’d realized I was pregnant, he wouldn’t be able to accept my decision.”

She shook her head ruefully, tears still threatening to fall. “And I was right. We had such a terrible fight that night that the neighbors called the cops. He threatened to tell Sarah everything, damn the consequences, if I didn’t stay home. So I finally agreed. Diana and I came to stay here, so I could be with family when we got news of his death.”

Rebecca took another sip of tea and winced. “God, I wish this had bourbon in it.” Em got up and rooted around in a cabinet, handing a bottle to Rebecca who gave her a silent nod of thanks. Once she’d doctored the beverage and had another few mouthfuls, she took a few breaths to steady herself before continuing her story. “Just a few weeks after the funeral, Peter came by the house in Cambridge to offer his condolences while I was there arranging a leave of absence from Harvard. Diana had stayed in Madison, thank the goddess. He pretended he’d just heard about Stephen’s death, pretended he hadn’t been the one to butcher him.”

“I was so shaken, I could barely stand there and talk to him,” Rebecca admitted, unwilling to meet anyone’s eyes, as if she couldn’t stomach anyone seeing the vulnerability. Christ, she’s just like her daughter that way, Matthew realized with a jolt. Seeing it twisted his stomach into knots. He had this sudden premonition – startling and viscerally disturbing in its intensity – of Diana, older, describing his own murder to their children, should they ever exist. That did seem to be the path they’d found themselves on and it absolutely terrified him. Dieu.

“I was so scared he’d realize I knew what he’d done. Or worse: that he’d realize we’d tricked him and he wanted Diana after all.” She was still refusing to look at any of them, instead focusing her entire attention on her own hands, before finally saying the words Matthew had been both expecting and dreading. “I ended up at the emergency room later that day with cramping and bleeding…there wasn’t anything the doctors could do.”

Matthew had guessed the moment Rebecca had mentioned the pregnancy – Diana didn’t have any siblings, after all. But he’d hoped he was wrong. He knew what it was like to lose a child like that and he wouldn’t wish that pain on anyone, especially not the woman sitting in front of him trying so desperately to hold herself together in the wake of all these awful memories. He could imagine the scene and it had him practically quivering with rage. Peter Knox is a dead man, he vowed, not for the first time. Even if what he’d done to Diana wasn’t enough, what he’s done to her family is unforgivable.

“I still can’t really talk about it, so please don’t ask for details. It took me a long time to crawl out of that hole, the grief and rage were all-consuming. Guilt too, even though I knew that there was nothing I could have done to prevent any of it.” Rebecca finally looked up and turned to Diana. “By the time I was capable of functioning again, I realized that you were safest as far from me as possible. Peter would be keeping an eye on me – that was clear from the trip he’d made to Cambridge – but the less exposure he got to you, the better. So, I asked Sarah and Em to keep you here.”

She put her mug down and held her daughter’s hand. “I need you to understand that leaving you behind, deliberately distancing myself, was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. Harder even than letting your father go to his death without me – but I couldn’t let that bastard hurt you too. You’re my daughter, I love you, and I’d have done anything – anything, even ripping out my own heart – to protect you.”

Diana nodded, tears streaming down her face. She put her own mug down and pulled her mother into a tight embrace, holding each other for a minute before they both turned to the others. Em’s face had grown ever paler and Sarah looked like she was ready to commit murder.

“Why didn’t you tell us any of this at the time?!” Sarah practically shouted at Rebecca. “We could have helped, you didn’t have to face it alone!”

Em put a hand on Sarah’s arm. “It’s getting late –“ she turned, with a pointed look at Sarah, “– and this isn’t something we should be discussing on an empty stomach.” Sarah gave a small huff, but otherwise kept silent.

“Rebecca, will you give me a hand in the kitchen?” Em asked. Diana started to go with them, but Em motioned for her to sit back down. “You’re still recovering. Sit, drink your tea, and try to keep Sarah and Matthew from killing each other.”

Sarah rolled her eyes as the two women departed. “I need a cigarette,” she muttered, slipping out of the room. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Matthew and Diana stood there alone for a minute before he insisted she sit. “Are you okay?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Not really. I feel like my whole life, my whole identity, has been a lie. Like I’ll have to reevaluate everything I know about myself or my history.”

He gave her a hug, pulling her tight. “But you’re not alone. And you don’t have to face it all by yourself, I promise,” he murmured, stroking her hair as she sagged into him in relief. “Let’s go take a walk while your mother and Em prepare dinner. It’ll help you clear your head.”

Matthew eyed the two sisters warily. After dinner, their fragile detente had crumbled and he was worried about how it all might affect Diana. They’d all gone back into the living room, the tension making everyone in the room vibrate with nervous energy.

“So why exactly didn’t you tell me any –” Sarah started, but Rebecca cut in. “I needed to –”

“Don’t interrupt me,” Sarah snapped, angrily. “What if something happened to Em? And I lied to you about it? How would that make you feel? Knowing that I didn’t trust you enough –” her voice broke into an angry sob.

“It wasn’t that I didn’t trust you.” Rebecca stared down at her hands. “It was that I didn’t trust anyone but you. I needed to know that Diana was safe and I just couldn’t –” her voice broke, but she continued. “I couldn’t have you getting involved if it meant even the possibility of exposing her to their scrutiny. I didn’t know who Peter was working with or what exactly we’d be up against. I knew Peter couldn’t have taken Stephen on his own, so he had to have had powerful allies.”

Rebecca looked up at her sister. “But more than that, I knew you wouldn’t be able to let it go. I was afraid you’d let something slip and Peter would realize that we weren’t all as ignorant about his part in this as he’d hoped.”

Sarah laughed bitterly. “So that’s what you did, you let it go?”

“Of course not,” Rebecca snapped, letting some of her temper bleed through her outward calm. “Where do you think I go on all of those ‘field research’ trips? I don’t publish nearly enough for them to all be actually for research.”

It was Diana’s turn to gape at her mother. “What? You mean that all those times I begged you not to go, not to put yourself in danger for the sake of your research, you were somewhere else entirely?”

Rebecca nodded, a steely resolution in the straightness of her spine and the stubborn upward tilt of her chin. “I knew this was coming. Peter had the advantage last time because we were isolated and unprepared. But I have allies of my own now and a way to make him pay.” Her voice was as cold and hard as any vampire’s.

Dieu, Matthew thought. No man in their right mind would ever even think of crossing this woman, not if they had any sense of self-preservation. “What’s your plan?” he asked mildly. “I’m assuming you have one.”

“Of course.” Rebecca grinned, almost ferally, a wicked glint in her eyes. “Peter thinks he’s untouchable, that his position and allies can protect him from having to answer for his crimes. So, we take them away, one by one.”

“Right now, he’s got a guaranteed majority on any vote of consequence. The three witches on the Congregation all vote in lockstep, plus he’s close with two of the vampire delegates.” She saw Matthew’s face and anticipated his next question. “Not your brother – the others. Gerbert and Domenico.”

Diana cut in, addressing Matthew. “Wait, your brother? Is Baldwin on the Congregation?”

He had the good grace to look embarrassed. “There’s always a de Clermont on the Congregation. It was Philippe’s price for agreeing to the covenant – it still would have been instituted without him, in the end, but it would have been a hell of a lot bloodier for all concerned. We serve terms like everyone else, but when ours is up, the seat goes to another member of the family. It’s not common knowledge beyond vampire society, except for the politically connected.” Which your mother clearly is.

Matthew paused, voice getting quiet. “And I didn’t tell you because he and I don’t get along. His presence is as much a detriment as a help. He won’t let anything hurt the family, but he’d see you or even me as expendable. He and Ysabeau can’t stand each other. The only reason he hasn’t cast us all out is because he was devoted to Philippe.” He turned back to Rebecca. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for us to get sidetracked.”

Rebecca nodded, then continued, “I’d been hoping to get the last open seat, so I could already be in place by the time you two met. Obviously, that didn’t work out,” she said with a small grimace, “but I’ve got another way in.”

“How?” Diana asked, curious.

“Sidonie von Borke, the American witch on the Congregation, is being investigated for tax and real estate fraud,” Rebecca explained matter-of-factly. “Arrests are imminent and she won’t be able to keep her seat once word gets out. The Clarke County covens have been too heavily invested in real estate and she’s been using spells to shore up the market, but it hasn’t been enough. She and a few others have tried some creative accounting and, when that wasn’t enough either, witchcraft to trick investors. It’s all a house of cards and it’s about to come tumbling down.”

Matthew looked at her speculatively. “And how, precisely, do you know this?”

“Who do you think set her up? And tipped off the government about what she was up to?” Rebecca laughed grimly at the expression of surprise on all of their faces – all except Matthew’s. “I’ve been sowing the seeds for a long time. Once she’s forced to resign, I’ll be at the top of the short list to take her seat. She thinks I’m a friend, she’ll throw her support behind me.”

“And what about Knox and the rest of the Congregation? Won’t they try to stop your appointment, given their investigation into your daughter?” Matthew pressed.

“Peter knows that Diana and I have been estranged for years. He’ll believe I’m just as horrified by her relationship with you as Sidonie is – he doesn’t have any reason to think that I’d shield her,” she replied with a shrug. “Gerbert and Domenico might be suspicious, but I think that Peter will convince them and Satu that having me there would make you more likely to come out of hiding, not less.”

“I’ve already got the support of the daemons – Agatha Wilson isn’t exactly a friend, but she wants to break the conservative bloc almost as badly as we do. They’re tired of being marginalized.” Matthew nodded to himself, unsurprised. Hamish had been saying something similar for years. “I can’t count on her for anything too major – I only trust her insofar as our interests align – but it should be enough.”

“Once I have the seat and some support,” Rebecca continued, “I can present the evidence I’ve collected about his role in Stephen’s murder to have Peter censured and removed too. Once Peter’s gone, he’ll be vulnerable: the others only support him because he’s useful to them, they’ll drop him once he becomes a liability. We can then do whatever we want with him, provided we’re careful about it.” That got a dark chuckle from Matthew. The only person he wanted to rip apart more than Knox at the moment was Satu.

Rebecca looked at him. “I imagine you have some ideas about that. But you better not cut me out when it comes time to deal with him.” She clenched her fists. “I want to make him bleed – personally – for everything he’s taken from me.”

Matthew nodded, motioning for her to go on. She did, after a moment. “I’ve developed relationships over the years with almost all of Peter’s most likely replacements, which should give me enough guaranteed votes to get the Congregation to stand down in their pursuit of you.” Rebecca studied her daughter for a moment, sitting hand-in-hand with Matthew. “It’s not enough for a full repeal of the covenant...not yet, anyway...but it should buy you some breathing room. And it almost certainly won’t dissuade Gerbert or Domenico, but it’ll strip them of any official backing.”

Rebecca spread her hands, palms up, looking at the rest of the family. “As I said, I’ve been preparing for this for a long time.”

Matthew looked over to Diana and saw she was on the verge of tears. The long day, the travel, her mother’s revelations – they’d clearly all taken a toll. He took her hands, squeezed them, then addressed the others. “I’m going to take Diana up to bed. She’s exhausted and needs to rest – she’s still recovering, after all.”

She let him lead her up to their room, but she was still too stunned to settle. “It’s like she’s a completely different person.”

Matthew cocked his head. “How so?”

“The woman down there is nothing like the mom I’ve known for the last fifteen years. She used to be like that – wild, a bit dangerous. Daddy used to say that she had a firecracker inside her, but that’s the first I’ve seen of it since he died.” Diana wiped her eyes, sniffling. “She’s been distant and distracted, barely seeming to notice me or care for most of my life now. Hell, you heard her, I barely even saw her the year after he died. I was grieving and terrified and she wasn’t there for me – it was almost like she’d died too. It’s part of why I pick so many fights: it’s the only way I’ve been able to get her to show any emotion around me for almost as long as I can remember.”

Matthew stroked her hair, hoping to comfort her. “She was trying to protect you. You’re the most important person in the world to her, so she did everything she could to keep you out of the line of fire.” He held her for a moment, voice growing quiet. “It’s what parents do. Losing a child, there’s nothing worse. That fear drives you to do whatever you have to, anything at all, just to keep them safe.” He paused, before confessing in a whisper: “It’s what I would have done.”

Diana nodded wordlessly, eyelids starting to get heavy. He stood them both up, undressing together for bed. He got into bed and slid under the covers behind her, wrapping her in his arms while she drifted off. “I’ll be here when you wake. Rest and I’ll keep you safe,” she heard him promise, right before losing herself to blissful sleep.

Chapter Text

Madison, New York
August 17, 1999

The next morning after breakfast and coffee, everyone sat down around the table in the family room to plan a regimen for Diana’s magical training. Nobody seemed to question the necessity, for which Matthew had privately – very privately – professed his gratitude to her, but the prospect was already making Diana’s head swim. After avoiding magic for so long, it looks like it’s catching up to me with a vengeance, she reflected ruefully.

Rebecca and Sarah had almost immediately started arguing, which had done little to settle Diana’s nerves. She already felt like the rope in a game of tug-of-war and the tension in the room only seemed to increase as the conversation wore on. “I can show her how to use some of her elemental power, but we can’t teach her any spells,” Rebecca insisted for the second time.

“She’s agreed to learn now, it’s not like when she was a teenager!” Sarah exclaimed heatedly, temper beginning to leak through. Diana turned toward Matthew, trying to catch his eye. Do we really need to be here for this? she thought to herself, grimacing at the conflict between the two sisters. Maybe we should come back once they’ve finished yelling at each other.

“I didn’t say ‘won’t,’ Sarah. I said ‘can’t,’” Rebecca retorted with a sigh, bringing Diana up short. She refocused her attention on her mother, confused and shocked by the turn the conversation had taken. Can’t? What does she mean I can’t learn spells? I thought the spellbinding was coming undone? Or does she mean ‘can’t,’ like I’m hopeless, so there’s no point in even trying to teach me?

Sarah was – unsurprisingly, in Diana’s mind – completely dismissive of her sister’s concerns. “Of course we can! You were the one who said she could start learning how to use her abilities. And we have an entire spellbook upstairs, not to mention the one you’ve kept since you were a teenager. Why are you fighting me on this?” Sarah’s voice kept rising in volume, making Diana want to disappear between the couch cushions. What must Matthew think of all this? she wondered sheepishly. I’ve never seen his family yell at each other. It’s all so embarrassing, why can’t they just pretend to get along for once?

Rebecca kept her voice neutral, despite her sister’s audible agitation. “Sarah, where did all the spells in the Bishop grimoire come from?” she probed firmly, a raised eyebrow the only evidence of her own frustration. Mom better come to a point soon or else Sarah might just explode. The look Em shot at Diana seemed to indicate her agreement.

Sarah threw up her hands. “What the hell does that have to do with anything?!” she demanded, exasperated. “They were passed down and gathered from previous generations – traded for from other witches or collected in some other fashion. Where else?”

Rebecca rolled her eyes, making her sister huff in annoyance – and everyone else frown in bewilderment. “No, where did they come from?” she repeated, this time more slowly. She sighed as the rest of them continued staring at her, uncomprehending. “How were they created in the first place?” she clarified when it became clear that no one was going to answer her.

Created? The word flashed through Diana like a bolt of lightning, her heart speeding up in reflexive recognition, though her brain struggled to understand why. It also seemed to stop Sarah short. She paused for a minute, thinking. “...I...I don’t know, actually,” she admitted, sounding stunned. “I’ve never thought about it. They just are.” She shrugged her shoulders, seeming to try for nonchalance, but clearly worried at the turn the conversation had taken.

Rebecca began nodding. “Most don’t. Why would we, after all? Almost none of us have ever seen one made,” she explained carefully. “But just because it’s rare doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen. Some special witches – called weavers – can see the magical threads that bind the world together and then manipulate them to create completely new spells.”

Diana’s chest suddenly felt tight, like she wasn’t getting enough air, making Matthew look at her in alarm. She shook her head minutely and squeezed his hand to keep him silent. She was unwilling to interrupt the conversation, even over her own discomfort – she was finally, finally getting some desperately needed answers. Sarah, though, seemed skeptical. “How the hell have I never heard about these – what, weavers? – before?” she asked incredulously, her tone voice making clear just how unlikely she found her sister’s claims. “And what on Earth does this have to do with Diana being able to learn spells?”

Rebecca sighed again. “It’s not that weavers don’t or won’t learn spells, it’s that they can’t learn them, not with any success,” she said, sounding resigned to whatever outburst was likely to follow. “They have to make their own instead. Stephen had the ability and so does Diana – it runs in families.”

I can create spells? Matthew looked at Diana questioningly, but refocused his attention on the arguing witches as soon as it was clear that she had no idea what her mom was talking about. “What?! Stephen created spells?” Sarah exploded, glaring daggers at her sister while she yelled. “Since when?! And why the hell would he keep that to himself?”

Matthew sucked in an audible breath, drawing a shocked look from Diana. Does he actually understand the point she’s been dancing around? All the yelling – not to mention the back and forth – was starting to give her a headache. “This is what Knox is after,” he breathed, darting an anxious glance over at her.

“Exactly,” Rebecca confirmed, nodding and sounding relieved that someone had finally put the pieces together. “Weavers have largely died out because of witches like Peter.” Diana noted her mother’s hands were trembling slightly as she spoke.

Rebecca turned to face her daughter, directing her next words to Diana and not the larger group. “Their ambition and acquisitiveness meant that they murdered entire families to prevent others from gaining that kind of power.” Her voice shook with the effort of keeping her voice even. “The ability to create new spells...it’s extremely valuable and potentially dangerous in the wrong hands. So they’ve tried to control and, where they couldn’t do that, exterminate it.”

‘Murdered entire families’...Her mother’s words echoed in Diana’s ears. Daddy? Matthew put his arm around her shoulders, as if trying to protect her from the pain of these revelations. “And you’re saying Diana can make spells?” Sarah clarified, stunned.

Rebecca nodded at Sarah, turning to face her again. “It’s part of why she had such a hard time when you were trying to teach her magic as a child. It wasn’t just that she was spellbound, though it certainly didn’t help,” she admitted with a sigh. Diana’s spellbinding evidently still weighed on her, despite all the reasons behind it. Good. She should feel guilty for letting me feel like such a failure for so long, even if it was for the right reasons. “Stephen always said it was better for him to let others’ spells go in one ear and out the other. Attempting to learn them never did any good and more often than not backfired on him.”

Diana decided it was time to finally cut between the arguing women. “So, if I can’t learn spells, what can you teach me?” she asked, throwing her mother a pointed look.

“There’s more to witchcraft and magic than spellcasting, Diana!” Sarah admonished. Rebecca stepped between them, making placating gestures, before Sarah could further vent her frustration at Diana. Mom’s got a lot of apologizing ahead of her, Diana realized belatedly. I’m clearly not the only one still feeling royally pissed off.

“Sarah can teach you herbal lore,” Rebecca replied, eyes still on her sister, making sure she wasn’t about to start yelling again. “Potions are out for the same reason as spellcasting, but knowing the herbs and what they’re used for is important too. And I can walk you through the basics of controlling your elemental abilities.”

“What about the visions?” Diana countered hopefully. “Can you help with those?”

“Visions?” Matthew, Sarah, and Em all asked at once. Diana flushed slightly, embarrassed by the sudden attention.

Rebecca nodded, ignoring the others. “When did they start?”

“France,” Diana admitted with a shiver, trying to shove down the self-consciousness she felt whenever she discussed her magic. “I experienced a few at Sept-Tours, but something about La Pierre...they were almost constant while I was there.”

“You saw your father, didn’t you?” her mother surmised, eyes sad and voice oddly hesitant. Diana nodded, but didn’t offer any additional details.

“Well, visions I can help with,” Rebecca confirmed briskly. Diana was grateful she hadn’t tried probing any further – it was still too raw. “And I can share what I know about timewalking. You’ll need to gain some control over your abilities if you’re ever going to stop hopping around through the past.”

Rebecca laughed at the look of surprise and guilt on both Diana’s and Matthew’s faces. “Don’t look at me like that, of course I know,” she added, voice thick with dry amusement. “I’ve seen some of it – and don’t think I didn’t hear about your little excursions over Christmas.”

Diana flashed her aunts an injured look, feeling betrayed. “I thought you said you didn’t tell her about Matthew. That he was my news to share,” she grumbled, stung.

Sarah threw up her hands. “We didn’t say a thing about Matthew! But she’s your mother, she needed to know that you were hopping all over time doing goddess knows what,” she snapped, glaring furiously at Rebecca. “And I was hoping – perhaps over-optimistically – that it would bring her back from Africa early.”

Matthew broke in before her mother could speak, forestalling the brewing argument. “Rebecca, do you have any idea where Diana can learn about her other abilities?” he asked tentatively. “With Stephen gone, I’m at a loss to see who can teach her about making her own spells.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know,” Rebecca admitted, sighing. Diana couldn’t ever remember her mother looking so worn or tired before. “Weavers have always been rare, but they’re more than rare these days...they’re practically extinct. If any others currently exist – and I don’t know if any actually do – it’s probably in places with large communities of witches, especially ones with long or notable genealogies...London, Jerusalem, or Scotland perhaps.”

Matthew started shaking his head before she’d even finished. “Taking her somewhere like that would be unspeakably dangerous,” he argued, standing up and starting to pace in agitation. “It’s far too visible. Knox and the rest of the Congregation would find out practically as soon as we’d arrived.”

Rebecca put her hands up, mirroring his look of frustration. “I know! And I don’t even know if we’d find a weaver there, so it’s not worth the risk,” she agreed testily. “Those locations were only an educated guess. I’ve been hoping to pick up traces of modern-day weavers during my travels over the years, but I haven’t had much luck. I can’t say that I’ve run across another weaver besides Diana and Stephen, at least as far as I know.”

“What about Stephen, how did he learn?” Matthew asked, eyes narrowing slightly.

Rebecca shook her head. “Stephen was entirely self-taught. It took him years and years of trial and error to make any significant progress. His mother was a human and his father was just a normal witch – Stephen was the first in the family to show that kind of ability. He didn’t have anyone to help him learn when he was young.”

“And Diana doesn’t have that kind of time, thanks to the target Knox has painted on her back,” Matthew growled, nostrils flaring.

Diana broke in, hoping it would forestall further argument and help calm Matthew. “Let’s table the spellcasting – spell creating? – conversation for now. I’ve got more than enough to learn in the meantime. We can figure out what we’re going to do about that later.”

Rebecca nodded and stood up. “Let’s all go outside. I’ll need all of you for Diana’s first lesson.”

Diana was suddenly wary. “What? Now?” she squeaked, surprised. “I’m not sure I’m feeling up to it.”

Rebecca gestured for everyone to follow her. “No time like the present,” she retorted briskly. “Besides, this will be fun. We’re going to play a kind of modified tag, but you’ll be blindfolded. It’ll help you learn to control any sort of precognitive abilities.”

“Tag?” Diana echoed faintly. Matthew in particular looked alarmed at the prospect of her running around without being able to see where she was going.

“Exactly,” Rebecca replied, starting toward the door. “Once you’ve mastered that, we’ll move onto variations of dodgeball to work on directing the witchwind.” This seems like a bad idea, Diana thought, sudden visions of disastrous childhood PE classes swimming in her head. A very, very bad idea.

Matthew had to admit, Rebecca Bishop knew what she was doing. He’d been more than a little skeptical when she’d suggested blindfolding her daughter and setting her loose outdoors, but he could see Diana’s confidence increase with every passing minute. He’d been forbidden from using his vampiric speed or strength during the game – Rebecca had insisted that Diana needed to feel she could win in order to learn – and so he’d been mostly watching or playing referee as the four witches ran around the yard.

“Careful!” Matthew called out as Sarah crashed into Em. Diana, however, managed to swerve around them at just the right moment to miss the tangle of limbs and catch her mother on the other side. He delighted at the joyful, carefree expression on his wife’s face. She’d started out nervous, steps tentative and unsure – but after only a few minutes, she’d also been running around, completely confident in her steps. This is how it’s meant to be for her, he reflected sadly. I’ve hurt her by keeping her so cooped up the last few months. She needs to feel free.

After a few more rounds of laughing and running, Rebecca called a halt to the game. “I think that’s enough for today – everyone’s going to start getting hungry soon and Diana’s ankle can’t take much more strain anyway,” she explained, untying Diana’s blindfold and gesturing for everyone to go back in the house. “Em and I can get started with making lunch. Matthew, why don’t you let Diana show you around the property? I’m assuming you’ll be able to hear when food is ready, if I shout?”

Matthew nodded and watched as the three women went inside. Diana tugged his hand, leading him in the opposite direction, but they only got as far as the apple tree across the yard before she pulled him in for a kiss. It started slow and sweet, but turned hungry as his fingers brushed against her hips. He felt his body begin to rouse to her touch – Christ, how could it not? – but he reared back, worried that it was too much too soon. “Diana, you must be exhausted,” he protested, unwilling to let his desires overrule his concern for her well-being. “– as much as I’m enjoying this, we should stop. You’re still recovering from your injuries. We really shouldn’t...”

She snaked her hands up under the hem of his shirt in response. “Matthew, please. I need this. I need to feel normal for just a little while – like we’re not being hunted, like our lives haven’t been turned completely upside down.”

“Diana –” he started, trying one last time to explain why this was such a bad idea. In truth, he couldn’t really remember himself.

She ignored him, cutting off his objections by reaching a hand between their bodies, cupping his growing erection. He groaned, unable to keep himself from burying his face in her hair as she touched him through his trousers. Christ, I’m going to embarrass myself if she keeps touching me like that, he realized, hips bucking up into her palm as she increased the pressure of her fingers. “I know I should be tired, Matthew, but I actually feel exhilarated – like I’m full of electricity or something,” she whispered breathlessly. “Please, I need this. I need you inside me or I might just fly apart instead.” She pulled his mouth back to hers for another kiss and this time, he let his desire for her take over.

He pushed Diana up against the tree, hands roaming over her breasts and down to the tops of her thighs. “You’re so beautiful.” Matthew slipped a hand into her leggings, feeling first her bare skin, then her arousal, as his fingers explored. He groaned, overcome. “Christ, you’re so wet.” He took a long breath in, nose to her neck. “And, God, you smell like heaven.” He started massaging her clit as he slipped first one finger, then two, inside her.

Diana moaned into his waiting mouth. “Oh god, don’t stop.” She ground her hips against his groin, feeling his erection through his trouser pants. She reached down to palm him, wanting to feel him in her hand.

Matthew swore, then went down to his knees, removing her leggings and underwear. He used one hand to steady her hips, while he started fucking her with the other. He put his lips on her, licking and nipping in time with the thrusting of his fingers. The scent of her arousal was completely overwhelming. She tangled one hand in his hair, the other above her head gripping the tree trunk for balance.

“Matthew,” she whimpered, arching up to meet his mouth and suddenly it was too much. He unzipped his trousers, grabbed under her thighs, and hitched her legs up around his waist before sinking into her. She put her arms around his shoulders, hanging on. As he thrust, he bent to kiss along her neck, while she shivered with pleasure.

He started whispering, low and husky. “I’ve wanted you like this again for so long. Up against a tree, wild and free, like the goddess herself. I’ve spent centuries imagining just what I’d do to you if I had you willing, beneath the boughs, with your legs around my hips and my cock inside you.” Her breathing hitched as she listened, going ragged as he sped up. He groaned, unable to keep himself from babbling further. “God, woman, do you know what you do to me? How many nights I’ve rubbed myself raw on nothing but the memory of you?” She was so warm and so wet, he could barely keep from spilling right then and there. Dieu, I’m not going to last long, he thought to himself as she tightened around him.

“Matthew, I’m…I’m almost,” she whined, urging him on. One more thrust and she came apart, pulsing around him and crying out incoherently. He couldn’t hold back anymore – another jerky thrust, a heaving gasp from his beloved, and he buried himself completely inside her, spending with a grunt of satisfaction. His mind was blank, unable to process anything beyond the feeling of her surrounding his sensitive cock.

Diana was the first to speak. “Not that I’m complaining because that was hot as hell, but what did you mean when you said you wanted me like this again?” she asked with a breathless laugh. “I can’t say I ever remember doing this before. Under a tree yes, but up against a tree not so much.”

Matthew glanced away, feeling embarrassed. “I’m sorry I said anything,” he apologized, grimacing. “I know it breaks the rules. But I have a very fond memory of taking you up against one of the cypress trees near the goddess’s temple when I was about twenty or so. When I found you in the church that Saturnalia a few years later, it was all I could do not to press you up against the wall and have you then and there, freezing cold and blasphemy be damned. You’re lucky I made it all the way back to the house. And it made it that much harder to reign myself in when I took you to the festival last year – I was desperate for a repeat performance, but I didn’t want to rush things more than I already had.”

She laughed again, then kissed him. “It’s okay, I’m glad you told me. It gives me something to look forward to. For the record, though – had you asked last November, I would have been willing.” She grinned wickedly, a speculative glint in her eyes. “We’ll have to do this again sometime. It was most...enlightening.”

They stood there for a minute – Diana still panting slightly – before they heard Sarah yelling for them to come back in for lunch. Matthew withdrew, zipped up his trousers, and helped her clean up a bit. Their clothes were still a bit askew as they walked back, earning them some not-so-gentle ribbing from Sarah. He couldn’t stop smiling, however, knowing just how precious moments like these were.

“Matthew, could you take Diana upstairs for a short nap?” Rebecca requested once they were all finished eating. “She’s bound to be tired after everything that’s happened the last few days. As important as it is that she learns to use her magic, I don’t want her overdoing it. She still hasn’t fully recovered from her injuries yet.”

Matthew nodded as Diana shot her mother a dirty look – making him smother a laugh. I’m usually the one she’s frustrated at for telling her to rest, he thought to himself. It’s nice for it to be someone else for once. “Come, mon coeur, let’s get you into bed,” he coaxed, reaching out a hand for her. He pulled her close and kissed her head, before bending to whisper in her ear so the others couldn’t hear. “I promise, I’ll be there with you. And you don’t have to actually sleep unless you want to.” She shivered slightly, making the corners of his mouth turn up in an involuntary smirk.

Diana turned to face him, giving him a brilliant smile. “Deal,” she agreed, her eyes crinkling in happiness.

Chapter Text

Madison, New York
August 18, 1999

It has been two days since their arrival in Madison and everyone was still a bit tense, trying to navigate sharing a house all together for the first time. As he stood inside that afternoon, Matthew kept a careful ear out for trouble, only half listening to Diana’s aunt, Emily, as she chattered away at him in the kitchen. Rebecca and her daughter were outside on the porch and he was trying – trying – to give them some space. Diana was still rattled by all the revelations of the past two days, he knew, and it was important that she begin to repair her relationship with her mother. But they couldn’t do that with his constant hovering, no matter how uncomfortable it made him to let her out of his sight after her abduction. So he stayed inside and let her aunts try to distract him.

“And you, Matthew – are you doing okay?” Emily asked, noticing his preoccupation.

The question was shocking in its directness and he had a difficult time not snapping back an impolitely brusque response. He should no longer be surprised by witches and their prying, he knew, not after spending so much time with Diana – but vampire etiquette was strict and enforced by unyielding discipline over the course of centuries, making it extraordinarily challenging to shake off. He swallowed, trying to remember how a warmblood might answer. How much detail is too much? Or too little? Can she read my thoughts? Will she know if I lie? The uncertainties danced about in his head, leaving him flat-footed, but Emily simply waited patiently, as if this was all perfectly normal. He decided to go with the unvarnished truth, embarrassed at being so overwhelmed by such a simple interaction. “It’s been a difficult few days,” he finally admitted. “Diana’s abduction and her injuries, then coming here…I prefer to know my environment and every creature inhabiting it as intimately as possible.”

“And we’re new, the house is loud, and Diana’s hurt, so you’re feeling off-kilter,” she finished for him, a friendly smile playing across her lips as she took a sip of coffee.

He nodded, breathing a small sigh of relief, grateful for her kindness and understanding. Not all witches were inclined to welcome a vampire into their homes – including, it seemed, her long-time partner. Sarah had been standoffish at best since their arrival, despite Emily’s repeated, whispered chiding to behave. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for any trouble our coming here might have caused.”

“Don’t you worry about that,” she admonished him, shaking her head. “Diana is family, which means so are you. You’re welcome here any time, no matter what the circumstances.”

“Thank you, Emily,” he replied with complete sincerity. He knew that the woman in front of him was the member of his wife’s family that she most relied on – the one who’d provided encouragement and comfort for most of her life. “I appreciate the hospitality and everything you all are doing to help Diana.”

She chuckled wryly and shrugged her shoulders. “We’ll do what we can. But in the meantime, is there anything I can pick up for you to make the stay here more comfortable? Any preferred foods? I know you brought wine, but surely that’s not all you eat or drink?”

Matthew smiled warmly, trying to reassure her after a note of hesitation had crept into her voice. It was always a little frustrating dealing with new warmbloods – the questions, especially around his diet, never changed, not in the nearly fifteen centuries he’d been alive – but he appreciated that she was willing to make the effort. “I don’t really need to eat, I’ve fed recently enough that I’m not hungry again yet. And I can always go out and hunt some deer when the need arises. But if you feel you must feed me, nuts, berries, and uncooked meat are all perfectly acceptable.”

She perked up immediately. “Oh really? And are these just your preferred foods or do all vampires eat like that too?”

Before he could respond, however, he heard Rebecca and Diana pause their conversation as an SUV came hurtling down the driveway. Matthew shot out from the house to intercept it. “Looks like the cavalry's here,” Rebecca commented drily with a careful glance at her daughter. “Come, introduce me to your family.”

Matthew glanced back and saw Diana standing on the porch looking out in surprise as Miriam, Bertrand, and Marcus got out of the car and started unloading their luggage. Matthew found his hackles rising, distressed at having so many vampires near his injured mate. Why on earth did they come here? he wondered, running his hand idly through his hair. Damn it, I told both Marcus and Betrand to stay in England. They know they can’t be here, not with this tiny house and all the witches in the area. What the hell were they thinking?! He caught sight of Rebecca’s face briefly and huffed in frustration. Merde. She’s far too calm about this, she must have known that they were coming. Christ, this is a complete nightmare.

“Hi, Mom, we’re home!” Marcus called to Diana, acting every bit the wolf cub as he bounded forward excitedly.

Diana rolled her eyes at him. “Just how long have you been waiting to use that on me?” she asked tartly.

Marcus grinned back at her. “Oh, centuries,” he responded with a laugh. He turned to the other witch, extending his hand in greeting. “You must be Rebecca. I’m Marcus, Matthew’s son.”

“Good to meet you,” Rebecca laughed, grasping his hand. “But I’m begging you, please don’t call my daughter ‘Mom’ – I am far too young to have a grandchild who looks like you.”

Great, now there are two of them, Matthew thought in annoyance. Marcus’s exuberant sense of humor was lively, to be sure, but could get old fast when it was directed at the wrong person. Just what we all need. “Everyone follow me,” Diana said, motioning for the three vampires to join her inside. “I’ll show you upstairs. I hope the house prepared a bedroom for you, or else we’ll be short a bed.” Bertrand glanced over at him, a single eyebrow raised. Matthew shook his head minutely and didn’t answer, knowing Diana would explain as she got them settled.

Matthew stayed outside with Rebecca as Diana took the newcomers inside for a quick tour and to deposit their bags. “You knew they were coming,” he accused, looking sideways at her. It wasn’t a question.

“You didn’t?” Rebecca retorted, clearly intending to put Matthew on the spot. She’s not an easy woman to be around, but that’s hardly surprising, given her abilities, he reflected sourly. No, what’s shocking is that she’s as inscrutable as a vampire – witches aren’t typically able to play their cards so close to the chest.

“I told them to stay in Oxford,” he admitted, sighing and running his hand through his air in ill-contained agitation. “I don’t like having so many vampires here, around Diana. Even ones I trust. Accidents happen, no matter how careful everyone is. And she’s still recovering, which puts me on edge.”

Rebecca shook her head. “I understand why you feel that way, but we needed the reinforcements. If the Congregation had come in force yesterday, we would have been completely overwhelmed. Sarah and I can handle a lot – as can you, I expect – but there’s something to be said about safety in numbers. Trust me, this is a good thing.” She motioned for him to follow her inside. “Let’s go make sure my sister and Miriam don’t kill each other and start World War III. I can practically feel the tension from here.”

Matthew wandered into the kitchen and opened a bottle of wine, filling four glasses and bringing them into the family room. Marcus and Miriam were already waiting for him, while Bertrand spoke with Emily and Rebecca to the side. Once Sarah followed Diana in, the room was full to bursting. Matthew could sense the general unease emanating from the two parties and wondered just who would be the first to say something – his bet was on either Miriam or Sarah, as both women were natural instigators and seemed to love an argument.

Sarah, unsurprisingly, was the first to crack. “Goddess save us, how does anyone think you’re human?” she exclaimed, throwing up her hands in frustration. Here we go.

“It’s always been a mystery to me,” Miriam replied, speculatively studying the assembled witches. “You’re not exactly inconspicuous either, with all that red hair and the smell of henbane coming off you in waves.”

“Miriam –” Matthew began, but he was cut off by Bertrand extending his hand to Sarah.

“Thank you for having us, Ms. Bishop. My name is Bertrand Shepherd and this is my wife, Miriam,” he said smoothly, throwing Miriam an amused glance. “We’re old friends of Matthew’s. Diana’s too – or rather, Diana is an old friend of ours. It’s been so good to finally see her again.”

Sarah took a steadying breath, then took the offered hand. “Sarah Bishop, but I’m guessing you already knew that. Welcome to the Bishop house.” She turned to look at Marcus, who’d gone stock still at her attention. “And you must be his kid?”

Marcus swallowed nervously, then nodded. “Yes, I’m Marcus, Matthew’s son.” He reached down to the bag at his feet, then offered it to Sarah. “This is for you: it’s whiskey.” He looked at Sarah, then to Rebecca, and finally to Diana, whistling in amazement. “Damn, your family has some strong genes. Sarah looks just like her namesake and Diana is practically a clone of you, Rebecca.”

All three women looked nonplussed at his comments. “Excuse me...what?” Sarah asked after shaking her head. Emily put a hand up to her mouth, trying to hide as she dissolved into a fit of silent laughter.

“Your namesake, Sarah Bishop!” Marcus explained, becoming excited. “You look just like her. She was a healer too – she taught me how to set a broken leg after the Battle of Bunker Hill. I still do it the way she taught me. She liked spirits, I thought you might too.” He gestured to the bottle in her hand.

She nodded, still looking stunned. “You thought right.” Well, that’s one way to settle Sarah down, Matthew reflected with an internal laugh. He caught Rebecca’s eye and saw her smile knowingly.

“Why don’t I open that for you,” Matthew interjected smoothly, taking the bottle from her hands. “We’ve got wine out already for those who want it.”

Sarah nodded at Matthew. “Don’t mind if I do.” She looked back over to Marcus, this time approvingly. “Thank you, Marcus. That was very thoughtful.”

Matthew’s son smiled beatifically. “You’re welcome.”

Matthew hid his own smile as he dealt with the whiskey and gathered yet more glasses. That went better than expected, he thought. I should thank Marcus later, the whiskey was inspired.

Shortly after dinner, Diana escaped outside with a mug of tea. While she appreciated their recent arrivals’ concern for her and Matthew’s safety, the house was feeling awfully crowded, especially for a loner like she tended to be. So, when an opportunity presented itself for a bit of peace and quiet, she seized on it with the enthusiasm of a zealot. She closed her eyes, enjoying the chirps of crickets beginning to sound in the dimming twilight. She sighed internally in disappointment as she felt her mom come out and sit next to her on the porch. She’d been home for less than three days and had so far managed to avoid more than a few private words between the two of them. It looked like her luck had finally run out, however, and she braced herself for the inevitable awkwardness. She didn’t react visibly, knowing this was coming at some point in the not-too-distant future, but she’d hoped for a slightly longer grace period. Oh well, might as well get this over with, she thought, steeling herself for a fight. That seemed to be the only way she knew how to relate to her mother anymore and the thought exhausted her more than she cared to admit aloud.

“He told me he met you, you know.” Rebecca’s voice was quiet, but the words hit Diana like they’d been shouted.

“Who? Daddy?” Diana asked, startled. I can’t say I was expecting her to say that. I’m not sure how many more life-altering revelations I can take this week.

“That last summer,” Rebecca confirmed, nodding. “He didn’t usually share that kind of thing, given all the complications timewalking can create, but he wanted me to know you’d be okay...that you’d be safe, grow up, have a life. That our plan would work and it wasn’t all for nothing.”

She wiped a tear from her cheek before continuing. “He came clean about the day he proposed right before he left for Nigeria – how he’d met this beautiful witch who looked just like me and had accidentally popped up where she wasn’t supposed to be.” Diana’s breathing hitched, but she didn’t interrupt. He called me beautiful? She wanted to break down and sob, but forced herself to hold it together, not wanting to derail hearing about her father. Her mom almost never talked about him voluntarily – at least not until the last few days, that is.

Rebecca laughed, softly. “Yes, honey. He thought you were beautiful. Even so, seeing you like that, it scared the crap out of him, though I’m sure he didn’t let you see it. He’d recognized the spellbinding on you, recognized his own magic...so he’d known that something awful was coming. But even so, seeing you like that...well, it gave him hope for the future.” She turned to face her daughter and began smoothing Diana’s hair, clearly trying to offer her some comfort, however awkwardly. “I think he felt like I needed that hope too – or that I would, eventually,” she confessed sadly.

Diana sat, thinking for a while, eyes fixed on the apple trees on the other side of the yard. After a minute, she finally voiced the question that had been eating at her. “Who named me Diana?” she asked her mother, feeling more than a little unmoored.

Rebecca laughed again, understanding. “I did,” she replied, shaking her head. “You were born on the goddess’s feast day and...well, it just seemed right.”

Diana nodded. “Thanks, that...helps. I told Daddy my name during that visit to the past and I’m not sure I could have wrapped my head around the whole cause and effect of that situation, if he’d been the one to name me.” She swallowed nervously. “My relationship with Matthew is hard enough to understand.”

Rebecca pulled her in for a hug. “He resolutely kept his mouth shut about baby names, especially the girl ones. All he’d been willing to say was it had to be up to me, given the things he knew, but shouldn’t.” She sighed sadly. “There were a few things like that over the years, I’d just learned to accept them and move on, that I’d probably find out why eventually. I am sorry, so genuinely sorry, for all the distance between us.” She kissed the top of Diana’s head, then pulled back, eyes shining with tears. “And all the time we’ve lost.”

“I forgot my magic after the spellbinding,” Diana admitted quietly. “For years, it made me wonder if you didn’t love me because you were ashamed of me.”

“Goddess no, Diana. Never. I could never be ashamed of you.” Her mother wiped at her eyes as tears started leaking down her cheeks. “You’re my baby. I love you, I always have – since the first time I felt you move inside me, I knew I’d do anything for you. I remember the first time I held you, you were so small and perfect and helpless. All I wanted was to wrap you up tight and never let you go,” she whispered, voice rough and raspy. “It was just the only way I knew how to keep you safe. I don’t expect you to forgive me – hell, I haven’t even forgiven myself and I don’t know if I ever will. Losing you and Stephen…it broke me. Dying would have been easier than living without you both. Not to mention the guilt.”

Diana nodded, her own tears threatening to fall. “Knowing what happened...it helps, a lot actually. I’ve spent so much of my life angry at you,” she confessed, her mother’s pain and regret evident in her face. “But all that anger is so exhausting. I don’t want to be angry anymore. I want my mom back.”

Rebecca pulled her into a tight hug. “Oh sweetheart,” she sniffled, stroking Diana’s hair while they both cried.

After a few minutes, Diana pulled away, wiping her eyes. “Do you know if he ever saw me again?”

Rebecca shook her head, taking an unused tissue from her pocket and handing it to her daughter before retrieving one for herself. “I’m sorry, not as far as I know,” she replied, tone filled with regret. “It’s possible of course, but he only ever told me about the one meeting. It was the sort of thing he usually kept to himself, though.”

Diana nodded thoughtfully, wishing her mother’s answer had been different. “Well...you never know,” she said, trying and failing for a lighthearted smile, despite her red-rimmed eyes. “And even if not, seeing him that once was already a gift.”

Her mother nodded, then moved to stand. “I didn’t mean to intrude, I’ll leave you to enjoy the quiet.”

“Don’t go,” Diana blurted without thinking. “Please. Stay out here with me?”

Rebecca nodded again, then smiled and sat back down. “Of course, I’d love to.”

Chapter Text

Sept-Tours, France
January 4, 2003

Diana looked up and smiled, finding herself standing in Matthew’s tower at Sept-Tours, a quiet snore emanating from behind the bed’s heavy hangings. I guess he’s finally the one asleep for a change, she thought with a tiny laugh. She took a quick look around, trying to assess the room for clues as to the date. It would help if Matthew changed his furnishings more regularly – it’s so hard to tell when I am without having someone to ask. After a few moments, she finally glimpsed a phone charger connected to a portable battery pack on a side table and spotted folded clothes that looked like they might be hers. A relatively short jump, then, and still no electricity up here. So what do I do now?

She’d just woken a short while ago, so she wasn’t tired and didn’t need a nap. But she also wasn’t keen to go wandering downstairs, in case she encountered a vampire who wasn’t expecting her presence – at least up in the tower, she knew they’d be undisturbed. She was starting to regret leaving her hair wet after her shower – whenever this was, it certainly wasn’t summer, let alone the kind of hot, muggy summer they got in upstate New York. She shivered in the cold, trying to decide what to do, before finally crawling up into the bed. At least I won’t freeze if I’m under the covers.

She found her side of the bed warm, like she’d just been sitting there moments ago. In some senses, I guess I probably was, she realized, more than a little shocked. It was the first time she’d encountered such clear evidence that she’d displaced a previous or future version of herself – she hadn’t jumped much within her own lifetime and she still found the mechanics of the whole thing to be truly bizarre. As the shivering began to subside, she found her hand unconsciously reaching for Matthew’s sleeping form. She noticed that he was naked under the covers when her fingers brushed up against the cool flesh of his hip. She watched him for a few minutes, marveling at just how deeply he was under – he didn’t often let his guard down long enough for that. He must still feel safe here, despite everything that happened this summer, she thought, glad that her abduction hadn’t ruined one of the few places where he felt completely and utterly secure.

She leaned down to kiss him, making his eyes flutter slightly. “Hey there, Sleeping Beauty,” she whispered quietly in greeting, earning a sleepy smile in response. Oh Matthew, how I love you.

A hand reached up to stroke her cheek. She noticed a simple gold band on his left ring finger. I guess he made good on his promise to marry me properly, she thought, marveling at this rare glimpse into her future. I wonder if this is what it’s like for him when I visit his past? She smiled down at him, perfectly relaxed and content in that moment. “What are you doing awake? You’re supposed to be resting, mon coeur.”

She bent down to kiss him again, this time with more heat. She felt him begin to rouse to her touch. “Not tired,” she murmured against his willing mouth. “Want you instead.”

She felt him smile against her lips. “Well, then, who am I to deny you? My lovely, amazing wife deserves all that she desires for she has worked unending miracles, making me truly the luckiest and happiest of men.” She giggled slightly at the flowery language – and the praise underlying it – as he sat up further and pulled her onto his lap. As he kissed her, his hands wandered from her neck, down to her breasts where they lingered, then to her waist and hips and thighs before stopping dead. He pulled back and looked at her sharply, eyes wide with surprise. He glanced first at her neck, then at her still-damp hair, gathered into a messy braid. “Why…why is your hair wet, Diana?”

“Because it was summer when I woke up this morning and way too hot to use the hair dryer,” she replied, smiling brightly, before taking one of his hands and placing it on her left breast. “Kiss me again, Matthew? We can discuss the wheres and whens after, okay?”

He hesitated for a moment and took a long breath, clearly unsure about something, though what exactly, she couldn’t tell. His restless eyes finally settled and he reached up, pulling her down to him. One of his hands cupped the back of her neck while the other quickly divested her of her shirt and bra. His mouth hungrily found a nipple and latched on, sucking and teasing with his tongue as she moaned his name. Yes, this. God, yes, Matthew, she thought as he threw himself into worshipping her body, inch by inch. She could feel his trapped erection between her thighs already hard as stone. “Christ, Diana, you’re trying to kill me,” he groaned as she moved her hips slightly, arching into his touch. One hand traced up her back, then paused as she winced slightly in discomfort. He looked at her, concerned, before checking to see what had caused her pain. His body went completely still and his eyes took on a haunted expression. “Dieu, I’d forgotten how bad it looked at first.”

“I’m sorry,” Diana whispered, feeling self conscious at the intensity of his stare.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he insisted, his throat moving in obvious distress. “You’re injured, I shouldn’t have –”

She cut him off by capturing his mouth in a fierce kiss. “Shut up. I started this, if you’ll recall,” she retorted, pulling her lips away for just a moment. “Say no if you aren’t interested, but not on my behalf.”

He groaned, pulling her closer. “God, Diana, when it comes to you, I’m always interested. You could raise me from the dead for this, I’m convinced.”

She gave a small hum of pleasure as his fingers dipped lower, under the elastic of her waistband and underwear, finally finding her aching sex. Her breathing hitched slightly as he touched her, slow at first, but continuing to build. She rocked, feeling him hard and eager beneath her. She wanted, no she needed, to remove the last remaining barriers between their bodies, but he held her fast as his nimble fingers lightly fondled and stroked. “Matthew,” she whined softly. “Stop teasing. Please…”

He chuckled, his mouth continuing its thorough exploration of the skin around her neck. “No rushing, mon coeur...let me take my time.”

“You’d deserve it if I disappeared halfway through on you...oh fuck,” she panted as his fingers picked up their pace slightly. She was so close, but he held her off, climax just out of reach. His mouth captured one heavy, aching breast and his hips bucked, providing the delicious friction that she craved.

“Fuck,” he growled, pulling her off of his lap and quickly stripping her of her remaining clothes. His mouth kissed down the length of her body until he buried his face between her thighs with a groan of satisfaction. “God, I love the way you smell, especially when you’re aroused. There’s nothing else quite like it. I could drown in your scent and die a happy man.”

His words didn’t surprise her, not exactly. She knew he liked the way she smelled, the way they smelled together – he’d told her so repeatedly for months – but it still caught her off guard sometimes the way his biology changed how he perceived the world, compared to her. Not for the first time since they’d mated, she wished she could fully understand his perspective as a vampire. Maybe there’s a way for witches to see out of the eyes of others? she wondered briefly before his clever tongue chased all thoughts except pleasure and physical need from her brain. It wasn’t long before she felt like her body was simultaneously flying and breaking apart at the seams. Flashes of light caught her attention and she saw tiny sparkles and stars shooting off above her head.

Matthew looked up, an expression of awe on his face. “I’d forgotten what all that undisciplined power was like, leaking out of you at any provocation.” Diana ducked her head in embarrassment, but he caught her once again in a greedy kiss. “It’s beautiful, just like you,” he whispered reassuringly, letting his hands begin to wander once more.

“Only you would call a witch’s out of control magic beautiful,” she protested, laughing slightly. “Everyone else thinks it’s scary or dangerous.”

He kissed her again, longer and deeper this time, while his fingers continued their work, winding her up yet again. Once he had her aching and gasping, he finally positioned himself between her legs, entering her slowly – inexorably – until he was completely buried inside her. She felt the stretch of his cock and the friction of his hands and it was all she could do not to cry out when she found her release once more. Matthew wasn’t nearly so circumspect – he came with a shout in the shuddering aftermath of her climax, practically collapsing on her once his hips finally stilled. Diana slowly came back to herself, heart rate evening out and sweat beginning to dry in the room’s cold air. “You are far too good at that,” she teased, looking up at him with happy, guileless eyes. “Sometimes I’m surprised we ever make it out of bed at all. I’m frankly amazed I didn’t fail any of my classes last term.”

He chuckled and gave her a smugly pleased smile. “I’m glad I can satisfy my wife properly.” He reached out to tuck a wayward strand of hair behind her ear as she shivered in the morning chill. “Christ, I’m sorry, mon coeur. Let me build the fire back up and get you something warmer to wear.”

He busied himself, adding an extra log in the fireplace, then going over to the folded clothes she presumed belonged to a future version of herself. He frowned, shook his head, then put them away in a drawer. “What’s wrong with those clothes?”

He glanced up at her question, startled, then shook his head. “Nothing – just looking for something slightly more comfortable for you.” He presented her with thick wool socks, a cable knit sweater to go over the shirt she arrived in, and what looked like soft cashmere sweatpants in her size – how much must those have cost? she wondered, shocked – to replace the shorts she’d been wearing earlier.

“Thank you,” she said gratefully before pulling on the clothes in relief. “Can we go downstairs for some breakfast? I’m starving.”

His eyes unfocused briefly, like he was hearing something too faint for warmblooded ears to pick up, then shifted to look at her uncomfortably. “How about I bring some up to you? And some tea?” he suggested, wincing slightly. “We have a few house guests I’d prefer we not run across while you’re here.”

House guests? So does he not want me to see them? Or does he not want them to see me? “Who is it?” she asked curiously. “Anyone I’ve met yet?”

He shook his head, a teasing expression on his face. “Ah...no spoilers, mon coeur,” he replied, giving her a quick kiss before heading for the stairs. “I’ll be back shortly and Marthe will make sure you don’t go hungry. Is that alright?”

“Fine,” she grumbled good naturedly. It was only fair, considering how often she’d had to keep things from him when she visited his past. He was only gone a few minutes, barely enough time to do any snooping. She found a new, slick looking cell phone that might have provided some answers, had she known the password protecting it. He raised a judgemental eyebrow when he saw her holding it, making her flush. “Sorry, just curious – it was locked anyway. What’s the date? I didn’t get a chance to ask earlier.”

He took the phone and quickly stashed it in a drawer before putting a warm mug in her hands. “January 2003, just after the New Year.”

“Hence the house guests,” she murmured, eyes twinkling in understanding.

“Something like that,” he confirmed enigmatically as Marthe entered with a tray filled with eggs, toast, and more tea. She shot the two of them a knowing smirk and left without saying a word. “Come, eat.”

She joined him at the side table, quickly devouring everything on the plate. As she got up to clear the tray, she found herself once again in her room in Madison. The air was disgustingly hot. I need to get all this wool off immediately, she thought with a grimace, turning to find herself back in her bedroom.

Madison, New York
August 22, 1999

“Is he always like this when Diana’s timewalking?” Matthew heard Rebecca ask from inside the living room where everyone except he and Marcus were enjoying their preferred morning beverage – tea or coffee for the witches, wine for the vampires.

The sound of Miriam’s snort was audible, even from the tree line outside the house where he was patrolling. “Not just then. When she went home for Christmas last year, he drove himself – and all the rest of us – completely mad with his fussing. He refused to come into the lab to work, just stood guard over her rooms until my husband dragged him away, almost by force. And even then, and knowing she was nowhere near Oxford, Bertrand had to call our son, Jason, to come and keep an eye on things.”

“What she means to say,” he heard Bertrand insert smoothly, joining the conversation – Matthew could almost see the warning glance he shot at Miriam from his tone of voice, “is that it’s completely normal for vampires to be extremely protective of our mates. It’s in our natures – we feel compelled, even – to guard them against all possible threats. Being unable to, for whatever reason, is extraordinarily unsettling and bound to cause all sorts of anxiety and distress.”

“Well, I don’t know what it’s like to be a vampire, but as a witch – and her mother – I find Diana’s disappearing act similarly unnerving,” Rebecca commented sympathetically. “I remember having her vanish as a toddler all too well.”

“Should someone go outside and offer him something to drink?” Emily asked, taking on what Matthew had determined was her usual role in the family: caretaker and peacemaker.

“I can go check on him,” Bertrand offered blithely. “But perhaps you all should give him a wide berth until Diana’s back.”

“Why?” he heard Sarah mutter quietly. “Is he going to throw a temper tantrum like some overgrown toddler?”

“Sarah!” Emily and Rebecca yelled at her in unison.

“He’ll be fine,” Bertrand assured them. “Just a bit testy. I’ll go out and try to calm him down a bit. Maybe bring him inside, if he can stand it. But he won’t be fit company for all of you lovely ladies – you deserve better than his anxious brooding.” A few seconds later, the sound of rustling grass announced an approaching figure.

“Was that really necessary?” Matthew snapped in annoyance, looking back to see that Bertrand had joined him outside.

“See? Here you are, proving my point.” Bertrand chuckled good-naturedly, offering Matthew a crooked half smile that did nothing to cool his ire.

“I don’t appreciate you telling tales,” Matthew retorted angrily. “There was no reason to say anything about Oxford.”

“Matt, I love you like a brother, but even the witches aren’t clueless enough to see this as normal. I had to tell them something and I didn’t think you’d appreciate the full, unvarnished truth,” Bertrand sighed, scanning the property for signs of Marcus. This wasn’t a conversation they could have in earshot of the other vampire. “Trust me, you didn’t want them pulling on that thread. Your wife deserves to know, though. As does your son.”

“That’s not your decision to make,” Matthew snarled, frustrated.

“No, but you’re being a bloody idiot, if you ask me – which I know you didn’t, but you should listen to me anyway,” Bertrand insisted with an almost irritating calm. “Go inside, get yourself a glass of wine, and wait for her upstairs in your bedroom – the scent of her permeating the space will help ease the anxiety. Then, once she’s home, have the talk you’ve been putting off and finally tell her about the blood rage. She won’t thank you for keeping it from her when she eventually finds out. And she will find out, you know she will – it’s just a matter of time. Sooner is better for you than later, Matt.”

Matthew stood glaring at his friend, then turned on his heel and stalked inside without a word. He resisted the urge to slam the door in frustration – barely – and simply went up to their room, collapsing onto the bed with his head in his hands. After a minute, he grabbed her pillow, closed his eyes, and took a long, deep breath. It wasn’t as good as having her there – not being able to hear her heartbeat was unimaginably distressing – but he was almost, almost able to pretend that she was nearby. Bertrand was right: after a few minutes he was significantly calmer. Her disappearances had always been unnerving, but this was the first time she’d timewalked since her abduction and he knew he wasn’t handling it well. Dieu, how am I going to manage years of this? Will she ever learn to control it? Will it ever start to feel normal? He lay there, pretending she was in the room with him, just out of reach. He let himself remember all the happy memories of her turning up at the least convenient, most unexpected times, bringing brightness and joy to an otherwise cold and gray existence. He smiled, wondering which of those lovely encounters she was experiencing now. Maybe Florence? Boston? Or perhaps the cypress grove?

He was so lost in his thoughts, he almost didn’t catch the sound of a familiar heartbeat suddenly begin beating with him in the room. His eyes snapped open and he sat up, breathing a sigh of relief at his wife’s safe return. As Diana turned around, he quickly moved to wrap her in a fierce hug, making her wince. He blanched and eased up slightly – the swelling may have gone down and Sarah’s healing might have mended the cuts and broken bones, but Diana was still bruised and a bit tender from Satu’s mistreatment. “Christ, I was so worried,” he whispered into her hair. “I was downstairs getting you a cup of tea when you disappeared. One moment I could hear you getting dressed after your shower, the next you were gone.”

“Hey, don’t worry – I’m alright, I promise,” she tried to reassure him. He pulled back slightly so he could see her face. She smiled up at him and gave him a happy kiss. “I was with you – and only you – the whole time.”

He buried his nose in her hair again and inhaled deeply, then chuckled. “It smells like you’ve had quite the morning while I was sitting around waiting for you to come back.”

“You can tell all that?” She blushed in embarrassment, making him laugh aloud.

“I’m a vampire, Diana, and sex has both a strong and distinctive scent. I’d have to be completely nose-blind not to know what you were up to while you were gone.” He gave her a kiss and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, trying to take the sting out of his words. Even after so many months of living together, he knew that she still sometimes forgot just how much he could tell about her mood or her body just from her scent. “Why don’t you change into something more weather appropriate, then we can go downstairs. I think your aunts are getting ready for lunch.”

She nodded, quickly stripping out of the sweater, socks, and sweatpants – they were unfamiliar, though in a modern fashion and expensively made. She must have been visiting my future, he realized – a first, as far as he was aware. Once she’d found a replacement pair of shorts for the ones she’d left in the future, she took his hand and let him lead her downstairs. “I’m sorry for disappearing earlier.”

He glanced back at her and flashed her a reassuring smile. “It’s not your fault, mon coeur. You can’t help it. But we’ll figure it out.”

Chapter Text

Madison, New York
September 02, 1999

“How are we going to continue keeping our presence here from the local coven?” Matthew mused as Sarah rooted around in the garden. “Four vampires on the property – that’s bound to attract attention sooner or later.” I’m more than a little surprised they haven’t noticed us already and come with torches and pitchforks to drive us out. He could hear, but not see, Bertrand keeping watch on the other side of the house, while Miriam and Marcus were patrolling further out into the woods near the property line.

“Oh, they already know,” Sarah commented, not bothering to look up as she took care of a patch of weeds, completely indifferent to Matthew’s immediate look of shock and horror.

“They what?!” His eyes immediately began scanning the horizon for incoming threats. “We need to pack our things and find somewhere else that we can hide. Now.”

“Relax,” Sarah began, rolling her eyes at Matthew’s obvious distress. Relax? Is she insane? “They won’t say anything. We’re a progressive coven and most of us – present company included, I might add – have an extreme distrust of authority, especially of the patriarchal kind.” The look she shot at him made it abundantly clear that she included him in that category, though he was still too worked up to care about anything except his wife’s safety. The women in this family will be the death of me. I thought Diana was strong willed, but her mother and aunt make her look meek by comparison. “Lots of hippies, feminists, and former flower children who’d rather fight the man than shake his hand, so to speak. Nobody here reports to the Congregation.”

“You can’t know that,” Matthew bit out, barely keeping his anger in check. How could she be so reckless? Does no one in this entire family have any sense of self-preservation? “It’s not safe here for Diana anymore. We’re leaving as soon as possible.”

He started to move back toward the house, but Rebecca came along and put out a hand to stop him. “No, you’re not,” she said, glancing between him and her sister. Matthew started to growl menacingly, but she silenced him with a look. “Listen, Matthew...Diana is safe here for now. Perhaps not indefinitely – the Congregation is bound to come looking eventually – but you have time. Running off half-cocked without a proper plan will only make things worse.”

He calmed slightly, allowing Rebecca to lead him over to the porch. “This is our community,” she explained, pausing for a moment to study him. He did his best to relax his posture while she gauged his reaction, earning him a minute nod. “Our family has lived here for generations. We’ve known each other our entire lives. Nobody here is going to betray us to outsiders. As the American representative, Sidonie would be the person any questions or unofficial requests for guidance would go to – though I highly doubt it would even go that far, no matter how far we stepped out of bounds here. It would take something truly egregious for anyone here to even consider involving Sidonie –”

“And, what, inviting vampires to stay doesn’t qualify?” he interrupted, allowing his bitterness and frustration to momentarily get the better of him.

She raised an eyebrow, killing his impending tirade with a glance. “No. Murder, maybe, but even that they’d try to handle internally or with local authorities before contacting someone on the other side of the country for help. Besides, given the trouble Sidonie is currently in, there’s no way she’d be willing to get involved – she’s far too busy with her own problems.”

He shook his head, skeptical of her reasoning. “Sidonie von Borke isn’t the only witch on the Congregation. What if they ask Satu or Knox? That would be inarguably worse.”

“And even less likely,” she replied dismissively. “Nobody in the coven here knows Satu, they certainly wouldn’t reach out to her to turn in one of their own. And after Peter’s behavior all those years ago, the coven here would never talk to him. He could be here hunting a serial killer or mass murderer and he’d find nothing except slammed doors and a lot of angry witches. We take a very dim view of stalking and harassment – and I made sure everyone knew exactly what kind of a man he was.”

Matthew huffed slightly, still not entirely convinced. “Aren’t you worried that this other witch will eventually tell Knox if she hears you’re here helping us?” he asked uneasily. The situation felt entirely too exposed for his liking, no matter what Rebecca Bishop claimed. “That could derail your entire plan to take her empty seat once it becomes available.”

“No,” Rebecca reassured him, her shoulders and face fully relaxed as he twitched under her unrelenting gaze. “Almost nobody realizes I’m here – the only people who actually know I’m not in Africa are in this house. The local head of coven might suspect, but she won’t say anything. Hell, she won’t even ask unless I bring it up first.”

Matthew scanned the property again, unable to completely trust her belief – however well informed – in their safety. “And how exactly do you know that? Visions?”

“A bit,” Rebecca admitted wryly, the corners of her mouth turned up in an amused smile. “Some mind reading and concealment spells too. Memory modifications on a few key officials to avoid written evidence, that sort of thing...But mostly, remember, I’ve been planning this for a long time. I’ve given a lot of thought to who I can trust and exactly how far.”

Matthew looked her over, a new sense of respect seeping into the conversation. “My brother did warn me you were terrifying,” he said, allowing a hint of amusement to tinge his tone. “He called me right after Knox falsely reported me for abducting Diana and demanded that I give her back. Immediately. Told me you’d kill me if I didn’t – and that I’d deserve it if I was stupid enough to ignore him..”

Rebecca smiled brighter, laughing for a moment. “It’s good to know I can intimidate creatures like Baldwin de Clermont – I didn’t think anything frightened him.”

“Not much does,” Matthew confessed with a snort. It’s too bad I probably won’t be there when they meet for the first time. I’d pay good money to see her scare him, even if it was just a little bit. The entertainment value – not to mention the novelty would be worth every penny.

“He was right, though,” she commented so casually that Matthew almost missed it. “If you had kidnapped her, I’d have set your entire family aflame to get her back.”

Matthew gave a small shiver, hoping she wouldn’t notice his discomfort. “So would I,” he agreed, hoping she’d understand the sentiment, his devotion to her daughter, behind his words.

“I know you would. I heard about the witch you killed in Oxford. Peter made sure to spread it around after you left town, using it as ‘evidence’ that vampires are nothing more than bloodthirsty monsters.” She got a feral glint in her eyes, sparks of power suddenly palpable beneath the calm surface. “I’m going to take every single last one of them apart, piece by piece, for what they did to her and Stephen. I’m going to make it hurt. And I’m going to enjoy every single moment of it.” Terrifying doesn’t even begin to cover it, Matthew thought, shuddering slightly. Baldwin has no idea – if he did, he’d have come to Sept-Tours himself to bring Diana back and personally delivered her straight to her mother, rather than risk the woman’s wrath.

She looked at him and smiled like she heard every word – Christ, she probably had, he realized with a jolt – and stood up, gesturing at the house. “It’s time Diana learned how to timewalk. Consciously. She can’t keep popping in and out like this.” He nodded nervously, torn on whether to feel relief or apprehension at the prospect of Diana learning to control her timewalking. It was sure to be dangerous – all magic seemed to have an element of risk involved and that seemed even more so than most.

“I’ll go fetch her.” He knew he was doing better at not panicking whenever she disappeared, but her mother and aunts were clearly unhappy with how frequent the jumps seemed to be. He’d overheard Rebecca telling her sister how concerned Diana’s indiscriminate skipping through time made her – both for her safety and what it said about her control over the rest of her abilities. He wasn’t sure he disagreed, though he knew better than to suggest such a thing to his wife’s face.

Once Matthew and all the witches currently in residence had finally gathered in the dining room, Rebecca – along with Em – began explaining the details and theory of how to timewalk intentionally. Diana, naturally, had a million questions. She wouldn’t be my Diana if she didn’t, Matthew thought affectionately. “But what happens if I accidentally jump while I’m already timewalking? Could I end up leaving Matthew stranded somewhere in time if he’s traveling with me?” The thought made his head spin. The idea of being accidentally separated like that…Dieu, I wouldn’t survive it.

Rebecca did her best to calm her daughter…and the anxious vampire sitting next to her. “It doesn’t work like that – you’ve never jumped from one time to another without first coming back to your present, have you?”

Diana shook her head. “No,” she answered, considering. “But I also haven’t ever timewalked intentionally before.”

“The uncontrolled jumps will only take you back and forth from your present,” Rebecca explained as she nodded encouragingly at her daughter. “If you’re already in a time that’s not your own, you won’t jump accidentally – you’ll need spells to bring you forward again.” Matthew and Diana both sighed in relief. That relief, however, was short-lived.

“It’s time Diana tried a small jump,” Rebecca announced, suddenly getting to her feet. “Em will take her to the hop barn and walk her through it – with any luck, she’ll pop back in here.” With any luck?! Matthew thought, thoroughly alarmed.

“I need to go with her,” he demanded, closely following the two witches as they started walking out the door. Between the physical distance and the prospect of her timewalking on purpose, he felt positively paralyzed with worry.

Rebecca shook her head. “No, you need to stay here,” she corrected, blocking Matthew’s path. A warning rumble started, unbidden, in the back of his throat, but she put a hand up to stop him. “Performing magic, as opposed to witchcraft or spells, is all about desire. Diana needs to want to be here more than she does in the hop barn. If you go with her, there’s no way she’ll actually want it enough to make the jump. Me or Sarah or Em – we’re not enough, at least not until she gets a better handle on her power.”

Matthew nodded slowly, understanding. “I’m the lure.”

“Exactly,” Rebecca said brightly, ushering the others out of the room. “She’ll be fine, Matthew.”

He took a deep breath to steady himself, nodding once. “We know about displacement during the accidental jumps – will it work similarly when she timewalks deliberately?” he asked after a minute, deciding that further questions were preferable to silence while they waited.

“I believe so – Stephen didn’t typically jump within his own lifetime, not by the time he met me, anyway,” she explained, sounding thoughtful. “And I never thought to ask. But that’s something we can test without too much trouble.”

Matthew pressed for additional details, not entirely satisfied with Rebecca’s answer. “And if she brings me with her and it’s within my lifetime, the past version of me would get displaced, even if there’s only one Diana?”

“I believe so. I’m not an expert,” she admitted reluctantly and she nodded absentmindedly to herself. Used to being an authority in so many areas of her life, he could tell how much it pained her not to have all the answers – it was a feeling with which he could easily empathize, especially given their current situation. “And even Stephen never thought to test timewalking theory with a vampire along for the ride.”

Matthew nodded and they once again lapsed into silence as they waited for Diana to attempt the jump. After a few minutes, he heard Em walking her through visualizing the room and he braced himself for hearing her suddenly cease to exist. The anticipation was killing him – he’d never liked the feeling of her disappearing without warning, but he was now finding that knowing it was coming instead was practically intolerable. “Oh!” he heard Em exclaim as Diana’s heart stopped being audible to him.

“She’s jumped,” he bit out, looking wildly around the room. “Where is she? How long until she comes back?”

“Calm down, Matthew,” Rebecca said, seeing his distress. “It could be a couple of seconds or a couple of minutes. Probably no longer than that. Try counting.”

He took a breath. One. Two. Three. “She could be anywhere! What if she doesn’t make it back? How will we find her?” Eight. Nine. Ten.

“She will,” Rebecca responded, unperturbed. “Just keep going until you hear her again.” Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. He nodded, taking another breath to steady himself, and continued counting in slow, measured beats. Once he’d reached seventy five, Diana suddenly popped back into existence, right into his arms.

“That was incredible! How long was I gone?” she asked, happily glancing around the room from the safety of Matthew’s embrace. He wasn’t letting her go again anytime soon. It better not be long before she can take me with her.

Her mother laughed. “Oh, only about ninety seconds. Which was long enough to practically give Matthew here a heart attack.”

“Poor vampire,” Diana replied, kissing him exuberantly as she giggled. “I can’t believe I did it! I wanted to be here and then, suddenly, here I was! I knew exactly where and when I was going for a change.” He hugged her close, nodding, but still too agitated to speak.

After a few more attempts, Diana retired exhaustedly to the living room and curled up on the couch. Matthew had not taken the timewalking practice well and looked like he’d keep her pulled against him for the rest of the night – maybe, even, the rest of the week – if she’d let him. She hadn’t anticipated how difficult learning to control this part of her magic would be on him.

As they discussed more advanced timewalking trips, a new wrinkle emerged. “The further back you go, the more difficult and dangerous it is to get home,” her mother explained over a mug of tea and some cookies. “I don’t understand all the theory – your father knew a mathematician who modeled it once, but I’ve never been very good with that kind of thing – but, from what I do understand, you can slip into different realities the further forward you try to jump.”

“Different realities?” Matthew croaked, looking positively gray.

“What does that even mean?” Diana asked, throwing him a concerned glance.

Rebecca shrugged, looking uncertain. “Again, I’m not an expert, nor am I a timewalker myself – this is all my imperfect understanding of Stephen’s second-hand explanation…and I’ll admit I wasn’t paying as close attention at the time as I should have,” she equivocated, hands fidgeting with her drink. “But from what I remember, he told me that moving forward in time was like trying to navigate a winding, constantly branching path, which meant that the further you had to navigate, the easier it was to take a wrong turn. So, for example, you could find yourself in a version of reality where I went to Nigeria with your father, so I’m no longer alive at this point in your life. Or where Matthew didn’t meet you until you ran into each other in Oxford, rather than as a child in France. Navigating backward is apparently much simpler, you can do it with three objects from the right time and place to help you pinpoint where you should land.”

“You’re talking about the concept of the multiverse,” Matthew said, running his hand through his hair in distress. Diana stifled a small chuckle – he was starting to look like a particularly disheveled hedgehog after the day’s trials. “Are you telling me it’s actually possible to slip into a different universe with timewalking?”

Diana rolled her eyes, trying – and failing – to keep her snort of derision from escaping. “That’s insane,” she muttered to herself. “I refuse to believe it’s possible to visit entirely different universes with magic.”

“I know it sounds crazy,” Rebecca sighed, shooting her daughter a reproachful look. “But he insisted it was possible. He said that the closer that another reality is to our timeline, the easier it is to accidentally slip into it. Likewise, the more differences there are, the more difficult it is to end up there.”

“But how do you prevent it?” Matthew demanded, sounding almost frantic. “Does this mean that the Diana here – now – might not be the same one from before the attempts earlier? And if she isn’t, how do we get our Diana back?” Diana frowned at him. He doesn’t believe this nonsense does he?

Rebecca shrugged nonchalantly, but ignored his second question, making Diana narrow her eyes in suspicion. That was one of her mom’s tells, which meant she either didn’t know and didn’t want to admit it or that the answer was one Matthew wouldn’t like and she was trying to avoid a fight. So which is it? “Good spellwork helps,” Rebecca explained, carefully looking anywhere but Diana’s face. “As does being extra careful during the jumps to focus on exactly where and when you mean to go. Significant magical or historical artifacts tend to distort reality through both their presence and their absence, so leave them where you found them. Likewise, removing a person from their own time – either by bringing them back with you or prematurely causing their death – is dangerous and can prevent you from making it home. But it’s not only that you can get accidentally diverted onto the wrong path, you can also sometimes have the right path completely blocked to you.”

“What?” Matthew looked nauseous.

Rebecca regarded him with pity. “Who was it that described ‘the distinction between past, present and future’ as ‘a stubbornly persistent illusion’?”

“Albert Einstein,” Diana replied automatically. They both turned to look at her, surprised. “What? I’m studying to be a historian of science, remember?”

The corners of Rebecca’s mouth turned up in a small, half smile. Is that pride? Diana felt a small flush of pleasure. “Well, he’s mostly right. Time is elastic and, therefore, pretty forgiving – it’s not like that Ray Bradbury story where stepping on a butterfly rewrites the whole world.”

“A Sound of Thunder,” Matthew murmured, earning him an approving nod.

“But the longer you spend in the past and the more choices you make while you’re there, the more rigid time gets, so the harder it is to find the right path home,” she cautioned them both. “You could get stuck in the in-between or diverted somewhere else entirely.”

“Which is why timewalkers don’t just go back and fix the bad things in their own pasts,” Diana blurted out, suddenly understanding. Hadn’t she wanted to do just that when she saw her father that first time?

Her mother nodded sadly. She’s probably thinking about Daddy too, Diana realized. “It makes it impossible for them to go home – really home – again. Some might take the bargain, if the stakes were high enough and the event recent enough, but they’d never make the decision lightly, especially if it meant losing other people who were important to them.”

“Christ,” Matthew breathed, eyes wide. “This sounds far too dangerous. What if she ends up in some other reality and then can’t jump home? One where I don’t know who she is? She could be hurt – killed. I might never see her again.”

Rebecca shook her head violently. “Diana needs to learn how to control her power or else the accidental jumps will never end,” she stated in a tone that brooked no argument. “What happens if she ends up in the middle of some battle because you’re there and she gets killed before she can get home? I’m assuming you’ve never seen her when she’s old?”

“No,” he admitted reluctantly, glancing quickly at Diana before focusing his attention back on her mother. Answering the question, especially in front of her, was a clear violation of their rule against spoilers. “She’s always been young.”

“So why did she stop visiting you?” Rebecca pointed out. “Is it that she learned how to control it? Or is it that she got herself killed by dropping unprepared into a dangerous situation? I know for a fact you haven’t exactly had a safe life up until now. She’s too old now for us to count on her learning instinctively like children do.”

“And this issue doesn’t occur with the unintentional jumps I make into my own or Matthew’s pasts?” Diana asked, cutting between Matthew and her mother, trying to prevent an argument from erupting between the two. She also wasn’t sure exactly how to fit all this new information with what her father had told her during her first jump last year.

“No,” Rebecca confirmed, looking relieved at the interruption. “Involuntarily jumping to another time seems to operate differently, I don’t know why. Maybe because you don’t get to choose your destination or how long you stay? Or that you can’t bring anyone with you, either there or back? At least those were Stephen’s theories. But they’re a closed loop, regardless of the reason – you can’t get diverted away from your original reality. Deliberate timewalking has more risks, but you need to learn to control it sooner rather than later if you want to stop inadvertently popping all over history.”

Diana frowned at her mother’s vehemence. She knew the past held dangers, especially when she got separated from Matthew and she understood her mom’s reasoning, especially in light of his confession, but she liked the trips to visit him – they were fun and often romantic and she was a historian, after all. I’m not sure I want them to stop, even if it occasionally lands me in a sticky situation, she thought, remembering Juliette and her near miss in New Orleans. Besides, I have more control over my powers now, I should be better able to defend myself.

Rebecca gave her a stern look, clearly having heard everything going through her head. “Diana…”

“I don’t want her getting stranded,” Matthew insisted, frowning and shaking his head. One of his hands had strayed to the small of Diana’s back where it stroked rhythmically, as if he was trying to reassure himself of her solidity. “Your daughter isn’t the only timewalker I’ve ever met in my life. They may be rare, but I met a witch who’d settled in the eighteenth century – she, her daughter, and her daughter’s entire family. I don’t want that happening to Diana.”

Now it was Rebecca’s turn to be shocked. “You’re not serious. How did you know?”

He gave her a hard look. “Thanks to your daughter, I’ve had ample opportunity to learn what a witch out of time looks like,” he explained stiffly, making Diana flush self-consciously. “Now, of course, I can recognize anesthesia, germ theory, and the results of judiciously used antibiotics, but at the time, her surgical techniques seemed…well, unorthodox is probably the only way to describe it. Most humans called it witchcraft, but it wasn’t magic. She tried teaching her methods to anyone who’d listen, no matter how old, young, or disinterested – you’d have thought her a modern-day prophet with the way she prosthelytized the health benefits of sterilizing equipment and forcing patients to eat their greens.”

He shook his head ruefully, like he was reliving dozens of long-ago arguments on the merits of vegetables. “The outcomes she managed, though, were nothing short of miraculous…and it caused quite a bit of envy and resentment among the surgeons of both the Continental and British armies.” This last made Diana’s lip twitch in sympathetic amusement. Men sorely hate being proven wrong, and by a woman, no less! she thought, wishing she had some way of meeting the long-dead witch. She sounds like someone I’d have liked to know. “She’d made a habit of treating everyone, regardless of affiliation or social status – officers, privates, camp followers, and children were all fair game, as far as she was concerned. She didn’t discriminate, no matter how rude, noisome, or hopeless the case. I should ask Marcus, he might remember her.”

Diana opened her mouth to ask the woman’s name – maybe I can find her referenced in diaries or letters from the period, she mused – when Rebecca cut in, face pale and shocked. “This was all supposed to just be theory, not even Stephen had ever met anyone who’d gotten stuck permanently in the past.”

“If she was settled there, then maybe she wanted to stay. Maybe she wasn’t stuck, she just never intended to return to her present,” Diana pointed out. “If she’d brought her whole family with her, what reason would she have had to go home?”

“Surely she can’t have done something like that deliberately,” Rebecca insisted, shooting her daughter a worried glance, like she was worried Diana might try something similar.

Matthew shrugged, looking between the two witches. “I honestly don’t know, I never got a chance to ask her. Hell, I barely even spoke to her directly at all – the Marquis may have been quite taken with the woman, but I stayed well clear, just in case she didn’t appreciate having a vampire around,” he replied apologetically. “I didn’t even get confirmation of my suspicions until nearly two centuries later when I stumbled across a younger version of her during the war. She was a nurse at the time, serving in France. I found her wrist-deep in a patient’s abdominal cavity, swearing up a storm while the surgeons at the field hospital raced to staunch the bleeding. I ended up beating a hasty retreat, not wanting to disturb her concentration or do anything to further endanger the injured man. I always meant to check back in on her, but then after my father died…well, I had other things to occupy my time and once I had the opportunity to look into it further, she’d managed to drop off the map.”

He sighed and shook his head. All the talk about the dangers of timewalking – accidental or otherwise – had clearly frayed his nerves to the point of breaking. And Diana wasn’t feeling much better about the whole situation. “Let’s go outside for a bit. It’s been months since you got in any yoga and I know how much you miss it. We can walk through some of the poses together. I’m no Amira, but your mother is here to guide you back, if it brings out a tempest again.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but closed it again and nodded. “Alright. I don’t think there are any mats here, though…”

He took her hand, preventing further protests. “We’ll avoid anything that’ll tear up your hands, I promise – we’ll be on the grass and we can stick mostly with practicing balance and breathing.”

“Fine,” she agreed, letting him lead her outside. As they cycled through a modified sun salutation – no downward dog, in deference to their lack of proper equipment – Matthew had her close her eyes to concentrate on the motions and the sensations in her body that they inspired. Before long, she found herself hovering slightly off the ground, water gently dripping from downturned palms. She kept her eyes closed, smiling contentedly at the feelings of peace and calm settling over her as they moved together.

“I think that’s enough for one day,” Matthew commented as twilight started to settle on the yard. She dropped like a rock when she opened her eyes to look at him, wincing in pain as she landed hard on her still-tender ankle. “Careful, mon coeur,” he cautioned as he helped her straighten up again. “I think your Aunt Sarah might kill me if I let you re-injure yourself.”

Diana rolled her eyes and glared at him. Between her mom, her aunts, and Matthew, she was starting to get a little annoyed at everyone acting so damn overprotective. “I’m fine,” she insisted hotly, crossing her arms over her chest in frustration. She glanced to her right, seeing Marcus appear from out of the trees and wave.

He chuckled, clearly amused at her irritation. “I know. Let’s go inside, I think Emily is about to announce that dinner is ready and I can tell you’re starting to get hungry. Maybe we should add yoga to the regular rotation for your magic lessons, since it seems to bring the waterworks out.”

“Fine, fine,” she grumbled, walking back to the house. They don’t need to keep managing me so closely, I’m doing just fine. What will it take to convince them I’m not about to break apart any second? she wondered, missing the relative freedom and independence of their times in both Oxford and France.

Chapter Text

Sept-Tours, France
Late Spring, 538

Maybe Mom was right about needing to learn how to control this, Diana though, exasperated and hungry. She’d just gotten dressed that morning and begun heading downstairs for breakfast when she found herself in an unfamiliar room, no breakfast, husband, or family in sight. She quickly checked her clothes and hair and found them unchanged from when she’d last glanced at the mirror in her bedroom. She sighed in disappointment. Damn, I’m going to also need to learn how to transform myself intentionally, if I’m going to keep popping into the past without rhyme or reason. As much as I hate to admit it, she wasn’t exactly wrong, even if I do usually enjoy timewalking – the wrong person seeing me like this could get me killed.

She closed her eyes, intending to see if she could somehow fix her clothes into something less likely to raise eyebrows – though what or how exactly, she didn’t know – when she heard a familiar voice from behind her. “So, you must be the witch I keep smelling down in the village or out past the temple dedicated to the goddess.”

Diana turned and saw Ysabeau watching her like a hawk eyeing its prey. Her pulse spiked as she realized that the vampire didn’t know her yet – and had no reason not to attack her for invading her home. “You have caused no end of trouble between us and our neighbors, given we did not know precisely who had been trespassing on our land. Witches usually give our territory a wide berth – and for good reason. You would be wise to follow their example.” Ysabeau paused to sniff the air, then narrowed her eyes. “Why does it smell like my son has mated with you?”

Suddenly very grateful for all the extra practice speaking Latin over the last year, Diana considered her words. “Is Matthew here?” she asked nervously. “You might not believe me, not without someone to confirm that I’m telling you the truth.”

Ysabeau gave her a hard look. “My son is out hunting, for which you should be supremely grateful. If he had been the one to find you here, I doubt I could have stopped him from tearing you limb from limb.”

Diana gaped at her in shock. “Excuse me? Matthew? I don’t understand –”

“He has been inconsolable since his wife died,” Ysabeau interrupted her, approaching with a curious look on her face. The increased proximity made Diana nervous, though she knew that it really made no difference. She could rip my throat out before I had a chance to defend myself, no matter where she’s standing in this room. “Or rather, I should say, his human wife. And I saw you in his blood when I made him almost a year ago. I do not think he will react well to having you here, Diana.”

Diana let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “You know who I am.”

“I know what you told my son, yes,” Ysabeau replied coolly. “I confess myself skeptical about the truth of the matter, however. A time spinner? From the future? It sounded absolutely preposterous. And yet, here you are, smelling of him, even though there has been no evidence of you in the village for years.”

“I wasn’t lying. Ask Matthew – he’s seen me disappear before,” Diana explained defensively, then took a long breath, swallowing the rest of her retort. Getting into an argument with a suspicious vampire – your mother in law, in point of fact – is a terrible idea, she reminded herself. “And I’m sorry for any trouble I may have caused the family, I don’t have any control over where or when I appear. Or how long I stay. The one constant is that it’s almost always near Matthew.”

Ysabeau looked like she was about to speak, then turned her head like she’d heard something. Her face fell. “It seems you will get your wish – it appears that my son has returned. Let us hope he does not react too badly to you being here…and to what he will very clearly smell on you.”

A breeze fluttered through the room and suddenly Matthew was there, looking wild and wind-tousled – and no longer human. Oh, my love. “Diana?” he breathed, eyes wide and disbelieving.

“Hello, Matthew.” She couldn’t help herself from smiling, despite Ysabeau’s warnings. She’d never seen such a new vampire before – he was like a new copper penny: bright and shining, not tarnished or dulled at all by time. And so beautiful it made her heart ache. “I was just getting to know your mother – or rather, she was getting to know me.”

Matthew approached her, the look of surprise giving way to hope, then anger. Before she realized what he was doing, before she’d even had a chance to hesitate, he grabbed her by the neck and hauled her to him. Her heart rate spiked, but she did everything she could to keep her face calm and her body relaxed. She held his gaze, unwilling to look away while he made up his mind about what to do with her. He gripped her jaw in one hand and gave one long, predatory sniff. His eyes narrowed furiously and he ripped open her shirt with his strong fingers and sharp nails, displaying the tell-tale scar on her left breast. “You knew. All this time, you knew,” he snarled, eyes black. “You turned me down, sent me away, lied to me about wanting me to be happy, all the while knowing what was coming and you did nothing to stop it.”

Ysabeau began approaching him, but his low growl stopped her in her tracks. “My son, you must stop this,” she cautioned, attempting to cajole him into releasing his grip on Diana. His hands were as strong and cold as iron, unyielding in his fury. “Please, let the witch go. What would your father say about the way you are behaving?”

He snarled at his mother again, making her back up another step, before he returned his attention to Diana. “She thinks she knows me, thinks she’s safe with me, Maman. But she doesn’t know what it’s like when the craving for a warmblood tightens your stomach so much that you become almost mad with need,” he purred silkily as he ran his nose along the artery in her neck. Diana could feel his cool breath along her skin and, when he looked up, his eyes were wide, black and glassy. “She doesn’t know how much we want to feel the blood of another heart pulsing through our veins. Or how difficult it is for me to stand here, so close, and not taste her.”

Keeping her eyes locked with Matthew’s and trying not to show an ounce of fear, Diana addressed his mother first. “Ysabeau, may I please have some time alone with my husband? We have some matters to discuss that really should be kept private.” She was pleased to find her voice had remained steady.

“Don’t you dare call me that. You have no right,” Matthew spat, his grip tightening reflexively, making it hard for her to swallow. “You abandoned me, pushed me aside, then encouraged me to go marry someone else.”

He looked her up and down, his body practically vibrating with fury as he held her close. “What is it you said you wanted for me? A wife? Family? Children?” he demanded, voice cracking on the last syllable. “All the while knowing the misery and despair your words would cause. No, Diana, you do not get to walk back into my life after that kind of betrayal – and you certainly don’t get to call yourself my wife.”

Diana didn’t let herself flinch as each accusation hit her like a lash. “We’ll be fine,” she insisted, despite the pit opening up in her stomach. Remember, he’s waiting for you back in Madison. You both make it through this. Together. “Please, Ysabeau. There are things he needs to know that I cannot tell you. And don’t come back no matter what you hear. It may get noisy, but we’ll sort it all out. I promise.”

Ysabeau considered for a moment, then walked out with only a single worried backward glance. Diana continued to stand motionless in Matthew’s grasp until his gaze flicked quickly to the doorway and then back to her face. I guess she’s gone now, Diana realized with an inward sigh. He noticed the small change in her demeanor, however, and began to growl quietly again – he was clearly just barely holding himself together. A wind began stirring around her feet, picking up speed and swirling around her like a tornado, causing him to loosen his grip on her in shock. I guess he’s never seen me lose control of my magic like this before, she thought to herself. Not yet, anyway. She took advantage of his momentary distraction to fling him away from her, making him hit the wall with a sickening crack. She used a witchwind to keep him pinned there while he snarled and thrashed, the irises of his eyes completely obscured.

She raised her voice, willing him to hear her, despite the noise and his distress. “Now you listen to me, Matthew de Clermont,” she ordered sternly. “I know you’re angry with me right now, but you don’t actually want to hurt me. So I’m going to hold you until you’re ready to have a civilized conversation.”

“You should know better than to expect civilization from a manjasang,” he snarled, continuing to struggle against the invisible bonds and the force of the wind. “We’re nothing but animals, monsters, ruled by our beastial desire for the hunt and the kill.”

“Stop it. You’re not an animal, Matthew, nor are you a monster,” Diana insisted, doing everything possible to keep her voice calm and steady. “I don’t care how furious you are, I know you – I know you’re capable of controlling yourself, of acting like the man you’ve always been. So I’ll wait as long as it takes until you’re ready to talk. The only other way I’m letting you go is if I disappear first and I just got here, so be prepared to stay pinned like that for hours.” Please don’t test me on that, she silently begged, praying that he wouldn’t realize she was bluffing, that the best she could hope for was mere minutes, certainly not hours, no matter how much practice her mother had insisted on.

He growled angrily, pupils giant and glassy. Oh, Matthew, she thought, heart shattering to see him like this. It took every shred of self-restraint she possessed not to visibly react. She wanted to cry, to yell, to shake, to scream…anything to stop him from struggling and thrashing as her control over her magic gradually began to slip away. Just as she began to panic that she wouldn’t be able to continue holding him, he suddenly sagged in defeat, his eyes no longer wild. She tried not to sigh in relief – the extended use of her powers seriously drained her, despite her earlier claims. “Are you ready to talk now?” she asked softly, trying to keep her apprehension out of her voice.

“Yes,” he said, sounding completely hopeless. He kept his head bowed and refused to look at her as she flicked her wrist to lower him to the ground. He looked up, wary, but he didn’t make any move to approach her. “He’s dead. My son is dead and you did nothing to prevent it.” The overwhelming misery in his voice was almost worse than the blind rage.

“He was sick,” she reminded him gently. “I’m not a healer and I wasn’t there to help him, even if I’d known how. There’s nothing anyone could have done differently.”

“You could have warned me against marrying Blanca, against having a child with her,” he protested, eyes flashing with temper. She held her breath for a moment, worried about whether he’d rush at her again, but he stayed in place. “But instead you pushed me away.”

She sighed sadly. “Would you honestly prefer that he never existed at all? Matthew, I can’t really believe that.”

“Believe what you like,” he shot back, drawing himself up to his full height. “My life has been a misery since his death. Why wouldn’t I wish for that?”

She sighed again, reaching up to unconsciously fidget with her moon pendant. His eyes hardened slightly and his mouth pursed into a thin line. He gestured to a chair nearby. “You wanted to talk, so talk.”

Diana nodded and took the offered seat as Matthew sat down opposite from her. She swallowed nervously. She hadn’t before realized how just badly she’d hurt him. Her experiences with her future Matthew – his warmth and kindness towards her, his easy forgiveness and constant support – had made it easy to pretend that she’d never seen just how devastated he’d been when she’d rejected his initial proposal. She’d been lulled into a false sense of complacency and she now had no idea what to say about the whole situation. He’d always been so happy to see her before – the rage…the outburst…it was all such a shock. And it shouldn’t have been. She knew she should have seen this coming. Just be honest with him, she told herself, closing her eyes briefly as she took a calming breath. You can do that much, even without giving him all the details. You owe him that, at the very least.

She opened her eyes and nodded minutely. You can do this. “I probably shouldn’t be sharing this, but my mother and I don’t have the closest relationship,” she began, studying his face as she spoke. “She did some things when I was young that hurt me deeply. Some very necessary things, perhaps, but they were painful and made me so angry that the last thing I wanted to do was forgive her…But then someone close to me, someone I trust and love with my whole heart, reminded me just how protective parents are – how they’re willing to sacrifice almost anything for their children, no matter how difficult or hopeless everything might seem.”

She paused for a moment, wishing more than anything that she could take his hand, show him how much she cared for him. “I just can’t believe you’d want to wipe your son from existence to save yourself pain, no matter how awful it’s been for you since he died.”

They sat for several long, agonizing minutes while he visibly wrestled with what she’d said. He was still clearly in the midst of his grief and she wasn’t sure he was ready to hear this yet. But sometimes we don’t get to choose when to have the difficult conversations. Not even if you’re a timewalker. “But you’re a witch…and you’re from the future! Surely there was something…” He trailed off, at a loss for words.

Diana shook her head, heart heavy. “First, I know I’ve said this already, but it bears repeating: there was absolutely nothing I could have done to save either of them. I don’t have any healing abilities, I can’t save people who are sick. I simply don’t know how.”

He blinked at her, his face losing some of its wariness. “And, honestly, even if I was a healer and I’d somehow found myself there at the right time, it still wouldn’t have made a difference. No matter what it did to me, no matter how it altered our future together, I never would have let your son die if there was some way for me to prevent it. I care about you, Matthew, far too much to put you through that deliberately. I’d have done anything to save you that heartbreak.”

“I don’t understand,” he said, sounding lost. At least it’s better than a blind rage. Or complete despair. “You’re from the future, you knew and you didn’t warn me. You didn’t even try.”

She winced, then shook her head. “It wouldn’t have changed anything. There was truly nothing I could do to save them,” she repeated, watching each word land like a blow across his face. “He’d still have died, you just would have had to watch him every day knowing that he’d be taken from you too soon. Would that really have been better?”

Matthew shook his head, unbelieving. “But how can you know what’s coming and still be unable to change it?”

“Because it’s my past – and we can’t change our own pasts,” she answered, hoping she’d be able to explain it well enough that he’d understand and accept it. “It’s why I don’t ever tell you things about my life, why I resist it when you tell me things about my previous visits. They happen out of order for me and what’s already happened for you may yet be in my future.”

“You sound mad,” he replied, still looking confused. “It makes no sense.”

She nodded and grimaced. “I’m sorry, I wish I had a better vocabulary for all of this. And I know what it’s like to lose someone and be angry that magic couldn’t fix it.” She sighed as she remembered her first jump – seeing her father, speaking to him, knowing he was right there, and still being unable to save him? It had been torture. And she’d seen him in her dreams for weeks afterward. “But what I tell you about your future is set in stone, something you’re doomed to foresee and yet unable to change. It’s no way to live.”

Matthew sighed and looked away. “No, I suppose not,” he finally agreed. When he turned to face her, she saw blood red tears welling in his eyes.

Before Diana knew what she was doing, she was out of her chair and standing next to Matthew, gathering him to her in a show of comfort. He took one ragged breath in and rested his forehead against her breast. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured through his tears. “I should never have touched you like that in anger. I’m so ashamed. I don’t know if I can continue to live like this. I never wanted to be a manjasang. I just wanted the pain to end.”

She touched his chin, pulling him up to face her. “You didn’t hurt me – I’m not exactly defenseless,” she tried to reassure him. Not exactly defenseless, but pretty damn near it, at least until I get more training, she thought guiltily. But he doesn’t need to know that, not right now. It’s better that he thinks I’m invincible or else he might never forgive himself. “You’re still learning how to control yourself. It will get easier, I promise. And someday you can come find me and we can finally be together for real – in the meantime, though, I’ll keep dropping in on you…usually when you least expect it.”

Matthew closed his eyes and shivered, then pulled her into his lap and gave her a long, hard kiss. “Dieu, I never thought I’d be able to do that again,” he whispered against her lips. “I thought I would go to my grave having never held you one last time.” He tangled his fingers in her hair and took a long, deep breath. “Your scent – my God, I want nothing more than to cover myself in it completely. How is it that I desire you even more now than when I was still human?”

Diana’s heart skipped a beat and she found herself flushing with arousal. Matthew’s face broke out into a wicked grin. “Oh, I like that,” he purred, then started to kiss his way down her neck. One hand cupped her breast while the other stroked her thigh. “I can hear your blood singing in your veins, I can feel it rushing up to meet my fingertips as I brush them along your skin.”

“Matthew,” she just barely managed to gasp, her head spinning. “Anyone could walk in on us. Do you have somewhere more private we could go?”

He gave her a crooked half smile and whisked her into his arms, carting her through unfamiliar rooms. The old chateau, she realized, remembering his stories about its construction – and subsequent demolition several centuries later to make way for a more modern building. She soon found herself in a bedroom with a small, private study through a side door. Despite his earlier haste, Matthew seemed almost shy when he looked at her then. “May I?” he asked, sounding nervous, as he lightly touched her cheek.

She nodded, feeling too overcome to speak after the tumult of their conversation. Matthew bent down to kiss her, cradling her face adoringly in his hands. It started sweet and slow, but it began building in intensity and, before long, he had her panting. He pulled off her ruined shirt and began to kiss her left breast, clearly fascinated with the crescent-shaped scar. “I remember seeing this before, asking you about it,” he whispered reverently as he nuzzled his face into her chest.

She reached down to untie his britches, feeling his erection underneath. He shivered as she explored, first with her hands, and then with her mouth and tongue, along his sensitive skin. “Diana,” he whined as his hands ran along her skin in turn. “Dieu, you’ll make me spill.”

Diana laughed happily and gave him a long, lingering kiss as he pulled her hips flush with his. His fingers started exploring her stomach and breasts, making him hiss in frustration when he couldn’t easily unhook her bra. “Push together, then out. Yes, just like that,” she said breathlessly as it dropped away from her body. One hand ran up the length of her back in light, fluttering touches, then suddenly stopped, making her inhale in alarm. The burns. Shit, has he never seen them before? she wondered. He frowned down at her in confusion, then slowly turned her around.

Matthew stilled, seeing her naked back for the first time. “Who did this?” he growled angrily, earlier arousal clearly forgotten in the face of her scars.

Diana sighed, eyes flicking away from his face as she tried to compose herself. “You know what that is?” she asked, fearing the answer.

“Someone branded you,” he snarled, pupils rapidly dilating. “They marked you with my seal. Who? Who would dare do such a thing to someone in this family?”

She swallowed nervously and nodded, suddenly feeling sick. She should have known she’d need to explain this at some point, but she hadn’t anticipated…Fuck. “Witches aren’t supposed to love manjasang. This was my punishment.”

“Who?” he repeated, howling the word with such fury that she took an involuntary step back, startled.

She shook her head. “You know I can’t tell you more. And I’m sorry, but you wouldn’t be able to stop it from happening anyway –”

He cut her off, pulling away suddenly, and walked into the other room, where she heard the sounds of smashing furniture and rending cloth. Fuck, fuck, fuck, she chanted to herself, trying to catch her breath, before following him. She stood in the doorway as he dismantled his small study, destroying everything in his path. “Stop it, Matthew,” she demanded, barely able to hear herself over the din.

She felt a sharp, stinging pain and she gasped, putting her hand up to her neck before pulling it away. There was blood on her fingers. I must have gotten cut by a flying piece of debris. All sound in the room abruptly vanished and she looked up to see Matthew watching her, eyes glassy. He stalked toward her as her heart hammered in her throat, trying desperately to push down the rising panic. He won’t hurt me, she reminded herself. He won’t. His hand reached over to tilt her chin up and away from the small wound. He bent down, sniffing hungrily at her neck, before she felt his cool tongue lapping against her skin. He hummed, kissing and nuzzling against her while his hands pulled her body to him. She gasped, feeling his straining erection pressed into her hip.

The sound snapped him back to reality and he suddenly pulled back, startled. “Christ, Diana, I’m so sorry.” He moved himself out of reach and put his face in his hand. “You can’t be here. I’m too dangerous. I could kill you. Please go. Please.”

“Matthew, it’s alright. You won’t hurt me.” She kept her voice light and reassuring as she took a step toward him, worried she’d spook him and he’d retreat further.

“I’ve already hurt you,” he retorted hotly, but still refused to meet her eyes.

“It’s alright,” she repeated, taking another careful step. “It’s nothing, barely a scratch – it won’t even scar once it heals. I’m not scared of you.”

“Maybe you should be,” he spat, voice filled with horror and self-loathing.

She took another slow step. Then another. “I’m fine, Matthew. Look at me.” He shook his head and started to move back, but hesitated. “I’m serious: look at me. Please.”

It felt like an hour passed, but he slowly raised his eyes to meet hers. The terror and longing in them made her heart ache – she reached out, willing him to place his hand in hers. Much as it hurt, she knew she couldn’t rush this, that he needed to make the decision to trust himself without any more pushing from her. They stood like that, unmoving, until his cold hand slowly enfolded her delicate fingers. He swallowed nervously, then stepped forward to wrap her in a tight embrace. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered into her hair.

“So am I. I shouldn’t have let you find out about it like that, I should have known it would upset you.” Diana kissed his shoulder, feeling him tremble and shudder in her arms. “I don’t know how much longer I have with you here, Matthew. Why don’t we go back into the bedroom? We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with, but we should probably go somewhere a little less hazardous, given all the sharp bits currently strewn about in here.”

He hesitated briefly, then nodded and gathered her against him, moving them back to the other room. He stopped near his bed, standing next to her pile of discarded clothing, looking halfway between guilty and excited. She stood, watching, until he finally gave her a small, careful nod. She reached down to cup him again, eliciting a groan in response. “God, you drive me absolutely mad.” She smiled, then slowly dropped to her knees and ran her tongue along the ridge of his leaking erection before taking him into her mouth. His hips rocked forward involuntarily, making her gag slightly as the head hit the back of her throat.

“Diana,” Matthew gasped, hands tangled in her hair as he gripped her head. “I don’t want to hurt you. I might not be able to control myself.”

She paused, removing him from her mouth, then flashed him an amused smile. “Good,” she countered, her voice low and husky as she began teasing him with her fingers. “Maybe I like it when you ride me hard and fast. You have no idea what it does to me, feeling your hands on my skin, your cock in my –”

She gasped as he suddenly picked her up and deposited her on the bed, climbed between her parted thighs, and then seated himself fully inside her without further preamble. His mouth covered hers in a bruising kiss, swallowing the small hiss she made as she felt him stretch and fill her. She felt him begin to nuzzle and explore her neck, then her breasts, seemingly fascinated by the hollow of her throat and the beating of her heart. His tongue probed the stinging cut and she felt his hand begin to tease where they were so intimately joined, causing her to arch into him further. “Dieu, I never imagined how much more amazing this would feel,” he groaned as she clenched around him. “The taste of your skin, the smell of your arousal – I could drown in them. I would spend the rest of my days in bed with you, if I had the chance.”

“Matthew...I’m so close,” she panted, making him increase the speed of his thrusts and the pressure of his fingers. There was nothing gentle or romantic about their coupling – it was rough and desperate and completely overwhelming. She felt her heart stop for a brief moment as she climaxed, hard, with a scream. The spasming of her around him proved too much for Matthew to resist and he followed, spending himself while his mouth clamped down tight onto her shoulder, though he didn’t break the skin.

After a minute, Diana looked up at Matthew, who was wearing a look of concern on his face. “What is it?” she asked, surprised that he could be feeling anything other than relaxed and satisfied after such intense sex.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured guiltily, indicating the deep purple mark where his mouth had just been. “I didn’t mean to hurt you –”

She silenced him with a kiss, pouring every drop of love and contentment she could into it – everything she couldn’t say, but wanted him to know. “You didn’t. It’s just a bruise. I don’t even feel it,” she promised, stroking his cheek reassuringly as she smiled up into his worried face. Oh, Matthew.

He shook his head, unconvinced. “I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from losing control.”

Diana sighed in resignation. I’m never going to be able to convince him that he didn’t hurt me, am I? she realized sadly. Especially not after he reacted to the accident earlier. “Hold me until I disappear?”

Matthew swallowed, nodded, then bent to nuzzle his face into her neck. “Of course. There’s nothing I’d like more.”

Madison, New York
October 10, 1999

When Diana finally found herself back in the bedroom in Madison, the light coming through the windows had shifted almost entirely to the west. She’d been gone for hours. She sat down on the bed, feeling adrift after the trials of the morning. Just as she’d decided to get up and change her clothes, Matthew opened the door and his face broke into an expression of relief when he saw her sitting there, apparently unharmed. He crossed the room in two long strides and pulled her into his arms, hugging her as he buried his face in her unkempt hair.

She felt him shudder and she relaxed into the embrace, wanting nothing more than to reassure him that she was safe and whole and still – always – his. “Hey, I’m okay. I promise. There was no reason for you to worry.” He pulled back, scanning her face for signs of damage and distress. “See? I’m fine.”

She knew the moment he spotted the cut on her neck, not to mention the ruined shirt she was wearing – his look of growing relief immediately turned to horror as he pulled the ripped collar far enough to the side to reveal the mouth-sized bruise on her shoulder. “You call this fine?” He spat the word like it was an obscenity. “You could have been killed, Diana…I could have killed you. What could possibly have possessed you to be so reckless? We’re both lucky you’re not dead.”

“It wasn’t luck,” she insisted, reaching out to stroke his cheek. He jerked back like he’d been stung. “I knew you wouldn’t hurt me. There’s no way you’d have been so happy to find me if you’d remembered killing me in your past.”

He shook his head. “You can’t know that –”

“I do know that,” she retorted, interrupting him. “I haven’t seen Miriam or Bertrand in the past yet either and they’ve alluded to meeting me before now. You heard what my mom said: the accidental jumps are a closed loop, we can’t change them. So it stands to reason that I knew I’d make it home this time, no matter how much danger it seemed like I was in.”

All color drained from his face. “No…no, you can’t think like that,” he rasped, eyes wild. “Promise me, Diana. You can’t assume you’re safe just because you think you know what the future holds. Your mother could be wrong about being able to make changes. Or you could be wrong about your interpretation of events, you could have been given bad data or anything really.” She felt his hands begin to shake as he held her in place. “You need to promise…God, Diana, please promise me that you won’t take your safety for granted. Not ever. Not even around me – hell, especially not around me.”

She nodded numbly, shocked at the vehemence of his reaction. “Okay, fine…I promise.”

He calmed slightly, but didn’t relax his iron grip. “You need to be careful. Vampires can be deadly, especially young ones who haven’t learned to control themselves. And I was more dangerous than most.” He still sounded anguished, like he was begging for her life. “When we’re angry like that, it only takes a moment, a single slip, for someone to get hurt. To die. Please, please be more careful. I wouldn’t be able to stand it if something happened to you, especially if it was my fault.”

“Yes, Matthew, alright,” she whispered, repeating her earlier promise. “I swear I’ll be more careful.” He slumped in relief, finally believing her, before he closed his eyes and tucked her into his chest beneath his chin.

Chapter Text

Madison, New York
October 23, 1999

“Matthew?” Rebecca asked, coming up behind him in the kitchen with a cup of tea in her hands. “Will you join me on the porch? I’d like to discuss something with you without the rest of the house hearing.”

Matthew had known Rebecca Bishop now for two months and the woman still managed to alternately frighten and frustrate him in equal measure. She wasn’t like her sister – she didn’t bluster or yell – but you got this unsettling sense of power and a temper that was balanced on a knife’s edge lurking behind her eyes. Yet, sometimes, she could be vague and unfocused, like Diana had described early in their relationship – not entirely in the world and seeming not to care about anything happening around her. It was maddening. He liked to know his environment and the people in it, but the essence of Rebecca Bishop seemed to elude him. She’s like another Philippe, no matter how different they seem on the surface, he thought resentfully. Just what I need. His father had had that same infuriating knack for defying people’s expectations at every turn and he’d never fully gotten used to it, not in the more than fourteen centuries that their relationship had spanned.

Matthew nodded and followed her outside. “You realize this will only prevent the other witches from overhearing, yes?” he asked, gesturing out toward the woods – they’d need to go much farther if this conversation needed to be entirely secret. Privacy in a house with vampires was always a rare commodity, which is part of why there was such a prohibition against telling others’ tales. The gossip gets bad enough as it is, Matthew thought with a huff, I can only imagine how impossible things would become if we were permitted to freely share what we’ve overheard – or, God forbid, smelled on one another.

“Yes, I know,” she confirmed with an impatient nod. “But we need to talk about finding somewhere else that’s safe for you and Diana to go. You can’t stay in Madison much longer, no matter how badly I wish we could shelter you both here forever. Which is why I wanted to have this conversation out here – Sarah is going to fight it, but you’ll need to leave...and soon.” She sighed, clearly feeling the strain of the past few months, before looking up and squinting at the treeline. She frowned as he checked the spot by the apple trees where she’d been looking. Nothing there, he thought with a shake of his head.

Matthew frowned, thinking over her words. He’d expected this from Bertrand – had, in fact, been getting similar prodding for weeks from his best friend – but he’d been under the impression that the Bishops all wanted Diana to stay close. “Have you seen something?” he asked finally. It was the only explanation he could think of for why she’d suddenly want them to leave.

Rebecca shook her head. “Nothing specific, I’m sorry,” she said with a grimace. “But something isn’t right here and I’m starting to get the feeling that your path forward lies somewhere in the past. I just don’t see how else Diana is going to get the training she needs.”

“But you said that extended timewalking was dangerous,” he pointed out, his frown deepening. “You said that we could get stuck or end up shunted off into some different version of reality. It’s too big a risk.”

She shrugged and sighed. “Everything I told you is all second or third hand at best, not to mention largely theoretical. I could be wrong about the potential dangers – I could be wrong about a lot of things. But what I’m not wrong about is what’ll happen to my daughter if she never learns to properly defend herself. I won’t be around forever. And even you can’t kill everyone who wants to do her harm.”

Before Matthew could respond, Diana opened the door and joined them on the porch. Looking between the two of them, her eyes widened in mock alarm. “Should I be worried?” she teased, laughing slightly. That is a very good question. Probably, before we’re through here.

Matthew put his concerns aside and flashed her a brief smile. “Not for now, mon coeur. Will you join me for a walk?” he asked, reaching a hand out for hers. When she nodded and took it, Matthew turned back to Rebecca. “If Sarah or Emily ask, could you let them know we’ll be back in time for breakfast?”

Rebecca nodded, keeping her eyes out on the trees, her tea going cold in her hands. “Be careful, please,” she murmured as they walked away.

Once they got far enough away from the house so as not to be overheard by her mother, Diana turned to face Matthew. “So, what did my mom want?” she asked, hands crossed over her chest. It was starting to get dark and his face glowed pale under the cover of the trees.

Matthew started to answer when the wind shifted, putting him on high alert. She could tell he’d sensed something that had him worried, but she had no idea what. Not until a cold gaze flickered across her back. “Run,” Matthew gasped before he was thrown a few dozen feet into the side of a tree. Diana looked around, unable to see where exactly the danger had come from. I won’t leave him alone if there’s danger...I just can’t, she thought desperately as an unhinged and predatory laugh sounded behind her. She started to turn, but stopped when she felt a strong, yet delicate hand wrap around her neck from behind and the tip of an icy nose sniff along the edge of her hair.

“My, my, my. You have been a bad boy, Matthew,” a familiar high, melodic voice drawled, positively dripping with malice. Diana went stiff with shock, heart racing in her ears. Her mind wandered back to a night – less than a year ago for her, yet far longer for everyone else who’d been present – when she’d come within a hair’s breadth of dying on a deserted New Orleans street. No...please no, she begged, knowing it would do no good. “Hello again my little rabbit. Looks like I’ve managed to catch you this time,” the voice trilled, cackling with delighted merriment.

Diana closed her eyes, imagining the keeping room in the house. She lifted a leg, readying herself to timewalk, but she couldn’t make herself put it down. No, I can’t just leave him all alone with a psychotic vampire, she thought, trying to fight off the panic. But, unwilling as she was to abandon Matthew, she couldn’t figure out a way to help either. The control I’ve developed over elemental magic does me no good if she’s already holding me by the neck, she realized with horror, her eyes snapping open. I can’t push her away without getting my throat torn out, I can’t drown her, and fire won’t kill her fast enough to save myself.

Diana watched helplessly as Matthew slowly picked himself up and carefully approached them, eyes round and black, hackles raised. “Juliette,” he addressed her flatly, voice sounding completely lifeless. “Let her go. You’re here for me, yes? I’ll come without a fight…just let her go, unharmed.”

Juliette stilled, but kept Diana as a shield between her and Matthew. “Ah, ah! Come now, Matthew...you can’t think it’d be that easy, can you?” she asked, cool breath tickling the nape of Diana’s neck. The hopelessness in Matthew’s eyes filled her with an overwhelming dread – she’d never seen him look so defeated before. He’s worried we might not both survive it, she realized, a pit opening up in her stomach. No no no…Matthew, what have you been keeping from me? “We have unfinished business, then your little witch here gets a one-way ticket to Venice. I’d take you both, but Gerbert has no use for you any longer.”

“No,” Matthew roared as he lunged at Juliette, but she stepped neatly to the side, taking Diana with her. Tiny pinpricks of blood blossomed on her skin from the vampire’s nails and the force of the sudden movement.

Juliette laughed, clucking in amusement and mock condemnation. “Come now, Matthew. This is no time for games,” she purred before looking closely at Diana. “He will possess you, too, in ways you cannot imagine. In ways only I know. You’ll be his, then, and lost to everyone else.” Juliette’s insanity leaked out with every malevolent word causing Diana to shiver, the bitterness of adrenaline flooding her mouth as her heart hammered in her chest.

Matthew growled, but that just made Juliette laugh again. “Such an animal you are! Is that why you’re so enamored of creatures like your little witch? Does she appeal to your basest, most wicked desires? I must admit, I’ve been waiting to taste her for ages now,” she mused before slowly licking right above where Diana’s carotid artery lay. Matthew’s eyes went completely black – pupil obscuring the iris entirely. “She smells positively delicious. I was ever so angry with your troublesome son for taking her from me the last time. But I don’t think Gerbert will mind if I have a tiny nibble before I hand her over.”

Diana tensed, expecting to feel teeth against her throat, but she heard Matthew reply instead. “I wouldn’t do that, if I were you,” he cautioned, voice harsh and raspy. He made a rumbling sound that could have been laughter, but sounded more like a growl. “Don’t you know? Gerbert’s procuring her for Peter Knox and you know how unreasonable the witches are about such things. Knox would demand your head and Gerbert might just give it to him.”

Juliette hissed, making the hairs on the back of Diana’s neck stand on end. “My father wouldn’t dare. Not for a sniveling creature like that.”

Matthew continued to circle them, getting slightly closer with every step. “Why not?” he asked, his nonchalant tone at odds with the tension in his face and body. “After all, what good are you to him once I’m dead?” Juliette hissed again, her hand tightening ever so slightly on Diana’s throat. But her attention was now fully on Matthew and not on Diana anymore at all. Don’t do it, Matthew, she begged silently. She had this horrible premonition, realization hitting her like a bolt of lightning, that he intended to sacrifice himself to save her, that he was deliberately putting himself in the line of fire to draw Juliette away. Please, there has to be another way. I can’t lose you.

“Your only value to him was our meaningless...you know, I wouldn’t even deign to call it a relationship?” Matthew sneered mockingly, his voice tinged with acid. “A passing distraction is probably a better description. Once I’m gone, he’ll dispose of you like the garbage you are.”

Juliette lunged at Matthew, nearly strangling Diana in the process. She hit him across the face, knocking him back against the tree behind him with a crack, then reached out for him, dropping her hostage in her enraged frenzy. Diana fell to the ground gasping, smelling copper and feeling viscous, slippery drips from the deep scratches on her neck.

As she tried to catch her breath, a horrible ripping sound rent the air, followed by a gurgle. She looked up and her heart practically stopped in horror – Matthew’s throat had been ripped completely open, causing blood to seep from his mouth and a torrent to spill from the wound, drenching his shirt in red so dark it looked black. “MATTHEW!” she screamed, voice hoarse from nearly choking to death just seconds earlier. The wind around her began to stir just as Juliette paused to smirk, glancing back at Diana.

That moment of inattention was all it took – Diana pushed the air with all her strength, forcing Juliette back, away from Matthew. She ran to him as he fell to his knees, clutching his ruined throat. Juliette lunged again, but Diana reacted on instinct and put up a shield of swirling air around her – a move learned and perfected during the months of practice her mom had insisted on. No matter how hard Juliette tried, she couldn’t manage to fight her way through the maelstrom as Diana cradled Matthew’s dying form. Somebody please come, she prayed as she watched Juliette circle them, snarling. He’s dying. Somebody please come. “Stay with me, Matthew,” she murmured to him. “You’ll be alright, just please stay with me.” She repeated it over and over, willing him to hear her. His skin had gone a disconcerting shade of gray and he couldn’t seem to keep his eyes open.

A crack like thunder sounded and Juliette went flying once more. Diana saw Bertrand standing for a moment before he became a whirl of color, too fast for her eyes to track. She watched as they fought, doing her best not to let panic over Matthew’s condition overwhelm her. Another figure joined them after a minute, running past Diana and toward the two vampires.

“Watch out!” she heard her mother yell as Bertrand retreated for a moment. Rebecca flicked her hands and Juliette was suddenly hanging upside down in mid-air, incapable of freeing herself. A fire began at the vampire’s head, causing her to scream in anguish, but she was held there as the flames slowly made their way up her body, consuming her inch by inch. Her body dropped once it was little more than ash and began to scatter. “Get help!” she called out to Bertrand, as she ran for Diana and Matthew, causing the other vampire to dash away.

Diana looked up at her mother, winds continuing to circle. “Help is coming,” Rebecca tried to reassure her. She kept her hands carefully extended in a gesture clearly meant to placate. “Diana, please. Sweetheart, I need you to drop the shield.”

But Diana had no time or attention for anyone or anything but Matthew. “What should I do?” she asked frantically, hands and failing trying to slow the bleeding.

“I’m cold,” he said with dull amazement. “How strange.”

“You can’t leave me,” Diana insisted as fiercely as she could manage. “I won’t have it. Not yet. You have to fight.”

“I have fought,” Matthew whispered, closing his eyes. “And I’m so tired. Death has me in its grip.” More than anything, this statement chilled Diana to the core. No, she resolved, not while I still have breath in my body or blood in my veins. She just needed him to survive long enough for Miriam or Marcus to save him. She lifted her inner elbow to his mouth, trying to convince him to bite her there, but he kept his mouth pursed, even as his eyes shot open in surprise.

“Diana, no!” Rebecca cried from behind the boundaries of Diana’s cyclone. “Stop. Please!”

“This is my fault,” Diana sobbed, gulping giant lungfuls of air into her heaving chest. “He wanted me to leave, but I couldn’t just go and abandon him! He distracted her, made her deliberately angry, so that I could get away.”

“It’s not your fault! Please don’t do this,” Rebecca begged, trying and failing to get closer.

She ignored her mother, focusing all her attention on her dying husband. “Matthew, please. You need to hang on until Bertrand comes back with help and more blood. Please, Matthew...I can’t lose you. You need to drink,” she pleaded, but he just turned his head and pawed at her, trying to get her to drop her arm.

Undeterred, Diana grabbed a small knife from her pocket – she’d taken it from the house, intending to help Sarah in the garden later that morning – and sliced her vein open, as long and deep as she could. Blood immediately started running down her arm, fast and bright red. She put it back up to his lips, forcing some to drip into his mouth. That was all it took. Lightning fast, he grabbed and started drinking as she gasped in pain. More adrenaline flooded her system, bitter against her tongue, as she started to see dark spots and began to feel woozy.

When he finally released her arm, looking up at her with wide, horrified eyes, she attempted to stand, but almost fell over before she managed to right herself. This must be what rapid blood loss feels like, she realized giddily. She stumbled, turned, and found herself inexplicably alone in an unfamiliar clearing. It was dark and the vegetation was subtly different from the woods back in Madison. She looked up, seeing a full moon and a truly impressive number of stars in the night’s sky. She felt blood dripping down the inside of her arm, splattering on the dry leaves underfoot. Her movements felt sluggish and her thoughts seemed totally disconnected from her body.

I must be going into shock, she thought dazedly, remembering the night Peter Knox had sent that gruesome picture of her father. But knowing what was happening to her and being able to actually do something about it were two completely different things. I wonder where I am. She was still worried for Matthew – she’d managed to stave off his death for a little while by offering him her blood, but he was still gravely injured and they didn’t know if Juliette had been acting alone. Everyone back in Madison could be under attack right now and she was stuck somewhere else entirely, completely powerless to help.

The snap of a leaf in another part of the woods caught her attention. She turned her head toward the noise, realizing for the first time just how silent all the forest’s creatures had become. She frowned in concentration, encouraging her witch’s third eye to open. As she scanned her surroundings, she found a void in the shape of a man – like when she looked at a vampire – coming toward her. Quickly.

She heard an angry snarl and she instinctively put up a shield of witchwind, tossing the attacking vampire away from her with a concussive wave. The figure stayed down, unmoving and prone, as she advanced, a fresh surge of adrenaline clearing away the mental cobwebs caused by her injuries and blood loss. She was still bleeding freely, to her dismay, but she didn’t have any bandages to use and couldn’t spare the hands required to hold one in place anyway, not with unknown assailants after her. Once she reached the unconscious figure – definitely a man, she thought grimly, he’s too tall and too broad-shouldered to be a woman – she bent over to examine him and gasped, recognizing his face. It was Matthew.

She crouched down immediately, checking his condition. No visible injuries, she reassured herself, but blood on his lips. Had he been out hunting when he stumbled across her? He must have been, she decided, feeling suddenly faint. He’d warned her – repeatedly – what might happen if her scent got tangled up with his prey, but she’d brushed him off, not entirely believing him. I wonder if this is what sparked his nightmare? Just how new of a vampire is he here? She shivered, realizing just how close of a call it had been. She tried to stand, but stumbled, forcing her to use her injured arm to steady herself. She cried out in pain, then swallowed queasily as she saw her own blood smeared all over Matthew. I can’t keep bleeding like this. Not if I want to make it home alive.

Sitting back down, she removed her sweater, despite the cold and her chattering teeth. She pressed it to the wound on her arm with all her strength, attempting to finally slow the bleeding. She cried out again, but didn’t let up, waiting until she could breathe again before tying it tightly in place. She staggered to her feet, moving as far away from Matthew’s unconscious form as she could manage. As she fell to the ground, she once again found herself next to Matthew before everything went black, her mom’s screams ringing in her ears.

What have I done? Oh Dieu, Diana. Please wake up. Please. “Diana?” Matthew whined, voice wavering as he stroked her face. He’d finally wrestled back control and stopped drinking, but hadn’t been able to get up when she disappeared. The next few minutes were the longest of his life, knowing she was somewhere out there, bleeding profusely, and likely disoriented. When she finally stumbled back into view, she had her sweater wrapped around the wound, but she collapsed into a dead faint before he could say a word.

He heard the sound of approaching footsteps from his left and turned to snarl at the intruder, teeth bared and eyes fully black. He vaguely recognized Rebecca standing there, but he was in no state to let her approach. The witchwind Diana had summoned to protect them had died when she jumped and Matthew was still out of his mind with rage and hunger, making it impossible for him to differentiate friend from foe. “Matthew? You need to let me help,” Rebecca ordered, sounding calm and assertive as he snarled at her. “I can and will restrain you if I have to, but you’ll both do better if you’re not separated. So let me through. Now.”

He sat there panting for a moment before her words were able to penetrate. It took a herculean effort, but he just barely managed to pull himself back from the edge. He nodded, unable to make himself speak, and Rebecca immediately rushed over, chanting under her breath, attempting some witchcraft to close the wound. “Damn. It’s not responding to my magic,” she muttered to herself, sounding worried. She pulled her own sweater off to press against the bloody gash – Diana’s was soaked through and useless – then undid her belt to use as a tourniquet around the injured arm. “Vampire bites don’t usually, but I was hoping that the fact that she inflicted the knife wound herself would make a difference. It must be something in your saliva, rather than the act of biting, that inhibits it.”

Rebecca looked up just before Matthew heard the other vampires approach. Miriam and Marcus, he realized, dazed. Thank God. Miriam started directing their efforts immediately. She forced him away from Diana, so that Marcus could stabilize him while she closed Diana’s wounds. He heard Diana wake and murmur a request at Miriam that made his heart stop in his chest. “No,” he gasped, eyes wild. “Don’t change her, Miriam. Please.” He started struggling against Marcus to get back to her, making him unable to continue. Marcus’s pleas for him to stay still had no effect. I have to get to her. Just let me go! I can’t let Miriam change her.

It was Rebecca, not his son, who finally got through to him. “Matthew, stop now. She’ll be fine, I swear. Nobody’s going to change her, but she’ll never forgive us if you die now,” she insisted, firmly yet deadly calm. “Let Marcus stabilize you, so we can get you both back to the house. The longer we’re out here, the more at risk she is.”

Matthew’s struggling subsided and he collapsed back onto the ground. He was vaguely aware of the rental SUV approaching and the two of them being loaded into it. Before long, they were back at the house. Marcus took Diana up to their room while Miriam handed a bag of blood and commanded him to drink. He sat in a daze while she continued to watch him warily. What have I done?

“Matthew?” Miriam asked, trying to get his attention. He finally pulled himself together enough to look at her. “Marcus is getting Diana stabilized. We have her on an IV and we have plenty of blood stocked, so she’s going to be fine. We need to take you hunting as soon as you’re able to pull yourself away.”

Matthew tried to protest, but his tongue was thick and clumsy. His panic must have been easy to read, however, because she immediately began to reassure him. “I know, but Marcus and I will be here with her, as will her mother and aunts,” she promised earnestly. “If they come back before you’re at full strength, she’ll be even more vulnerable. We have a window of opportunity here, don’t waste it.”

He took a breath and nodded, hanging his head as he recalled the day’s events and Juliette’s words. This is all my fault. I did this to her, he thought to himself and began to cry.

Chapter Text

Madison, New York
October 23, 1999

Later that afternoon, Diana woke to the sound of a child’s laughter outside her window. It was still light out, though barely – dusk was rapidly approaching. She frowned, trying to concentrate, but she was still too disoriented from the morning’s events to pinpoint exactly what about the noise had bothered her.

She swallowed past the feeling of cotton in her mouth and throat, then attempted to sit up with all the strength and grace of a newborn kitten. After a few abortive tries, she finally managed to prop herself up enough to look down on the yard and saw her mother playing with a small boy on the lawn behind the house. He was facing the woods, so she couldn’t see his face, but he had dark hair and looked young – no more than five years old.

I wonder who he is? she thought drowsily. Something about him was familiar – though what, precisely, she couldn’t place. Probably one of the kids from Sarah’s group, she decided, slipping back down into the comfort of the bed’s blankets. Her aunt regularly taught the local children, especially magical ones, all about the uses of plants and herbs – and even went so far as to babysit occasionally when the parents’ regular childcare arrangements fell through. In fact, Diana had found it a little strange not having any kids over in the two months since her arrival with Matthew. She smiled, remembering all the gardening classes she’d witnessed – and sometimes even helped with, when she wasn’t too busy with her own activities – as a teenager, then closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep. It’s nice to see some things getting back to normal. It must be a relief to both Sarah and Em.

October 24, 1999

Many hours later, Diana woke again, this time to the smell of tea as Matthew entered the bedroom. It was still early – from the slant of the light coming in the window, she figured that it was just after dawn. His skin was pearly white and his eyes were a calm green, making it clear he’d fed – and on a human, no less – since she’d last seen him. He sat down on the bed next to her and handed her the mug. Ambrosia, she thought with a sigh as she took a sip.

“When were you in New Orleans?” Matthew finally asked, voice strained. “And why didn’t you tell me?”

Shit. Of course he picked up on that in the midst of all that danger and chaos yesterday. She’d been hoping their collective injuries would have provided sufficient distraction. She swallowed and carefully met his eyes. “How do you know I’ve been there already? That could still be in my future,” she answered, trying to keep her voice steady.

Matthew studied her face, then shook his head. “No, I don’t think so,” he said at last. “You weren’t surprised when she mentioned New Orleans. And I know you...you’d have been demanding to know who she was – no matter how much danger it put you in at the time – if you didn’t know already.”

Diana sighed, then looked away. “Back in January, I accidentally jumped to the nineteenth century,” she admitted quietly. “You were there, but I ran into Juliette first.”

“Dieu.” His face had gone positively gray, despite the recent feeding, and his voice sounded shaken. “But you got away from her?”

Diana nodded, resigned. Might as well tell him everything. “Ransome and Marcus stepped in before she could catch me. They took me back to Ransome’s club and warned her off, telling her you’d rip her to shreds if you ever found out.” She gave a bitter laugh. “I didn’t believe them back then, I thought they were being overly dramatic. I hadn’t yet seen what you’d do to protect me. Or how you react when you’re angry – when you’re really, truly angry, that is.”

Matthew’s eyes had gone round and black again, like they had with Juliette – and during her visit when he was a new vampire. She could tell his control was hanging by a thread. “They weren’t,” he bit out sharply. “Knowing now how close she came to killing you...it makes me want to tear the throats out of every creature within a hundred-mile radius. The only reason I don’t is that I’ve had centuries to practice reining in my impulses.”

Diana eyed him warily. “Marcus wasn’t exaggerating, then, when he said you’d raise the city to the ground, if you found out I’d been in danger like that.”

“No,” he confirmed, voice as cold as ice. “He wasn’t.”

Diana nodded, brain still processing Matthew’s odd manner. In the year they’d been together, she’d only rarely seen him so close to the predator he purported to be. It unnerved her, knowing there was this enormous part of him that he kept bottled up inside, that he tried to never let her see. “So, why didn’t you tell me?” he pressed, unwilling to let the matter drop.

“Were you in love with her?” Diana retorted, answering his question with a question of her own. She’d tried not to think about it, but the possibility had been bothering her since January.

Matthew looked at her, momentarily too startled to speak. He finally shook his head. “No. Gerbert hoped I would, groomed her to make her uniquely attractive to me, or so he thought,” he explained cautiously. “And I was drawn to her for a time. But no, I never loved her. I couldn’t – I’d already given my heart away long ago.”

He studied her for a moment before pressing the issue further. “Is that why you didn’t say anything? You were jealous of Juliette?”

She shook her head. “Not exactly jealous, more confused than anything. You’d told me not to worry about your past relationships and then I meet someone your grandson calls your ‘whore’ and she immediately tries to kill me. I can’t say that made me feel entirely comfortable volunteering details about the encounter. And it’s not like you told me about her either.”

Matthew hung his head, looking suitably chastened. “New Orleans was a dark time for me. I don’t like remembering it.”

“We all have things we don’t like about ourselves, Matthew,” Diana reminded him softly. “But we have to be honest with each other, even about – especially about – the things within ourselves that scare us.”

“That goes both ways,” he snapped, starting to get visibly angry again. “You should have told me about what happened in New Orleans. It’s been, what, nine months? Surely that’s long enough for you to have worked through your discomfort.”

Diana narrowed her eyes. “And what good would that have done?” she demanded, her own voice rising in frustration. “You weren’t there. I was. Then I was home. What could you possibly have done almost two hundred years later?!”

The fight in Matthew seemed to collapse. He put his face in his hands, unwilling to meet her eyes any longer. “I don’t know,” he admitted softly. “I just can’t stand the thought that you were in danger and I wasn’t there to protect you. And then that you decided not to tell me.”

Diana took one of his hands and squeezed it, willing him to look at her. “Never again,” she promised with as much sincerity as she could muster. “I will never again keep something like that from you. But I need you to do the same, okay?” He reached over and kissed her, cradling her face in his hands. They sat there for a minute – an hour? – while he let the scent of her wash over him, calming his anxious heart. She could feel as the tension left his body, sending silent prayers that they were both whole and had survived the previous night’s encounter.

Diana finally pulled away once they were both calm enough to start planning their next move. We can’t stay here. Not any longer. “So, what do we do now?” she asked, voice uncertain. “We’ve been driven out of Oxford, Sept-Tours, and now Madison. Is there anywhere that’s safe for us to go?”

Matthew looked at her, his mouth pursed into a hard, but resolute, line. “We timewalk,” he responded, making her gape at him in shock. “We need to get away from the Congregation’s scrutiny for the time being and find you a teacher who can help you learn how to work with spells. I think we could accomplish both much more easily in the past.”

“That’s insane,” Diana said once she could finally speak. “Where – when? – could we go? I thought my Mom said it was too dangerous. Hell, I thought you said it was too dangerous.”

He shook his head, giving her a small half-hearted shrug. “I’m not sure we have much choice. And your mother agrees, I think.”

“My mother?!” Diana demanded, frowning in annoyance.“You’ve talked to her about this before discussing it with me?” She winced, hating how petulant she sounded, but she hadn’t been able to keep the frustrated and hurt tone out of her voice.

Matthew shook his head. “No. It was only something she said to me yesterday when we were talking out on the porch. She told me that hadn’t seen anything in particular, but she thought our path forward lies in the past.” He looked away, carefully considering his next words. “After what happened with Juliette, I’m inclined to agree. They won’t be looking for us there and there are more witches – powerful ones – who might be able to help you learn.”

Diana swallowed, fear settling in the pit of her stomach. “We could be trapped there,” she pointed out, unable to keep the uncertain quavering from her voice. “If I can’t find a teacher, I might never learn enough spellcasting to get us home. Can you live with that?”

Matthew’s face was resolute. “If we don’t go, we probably won’t survive the year,” he replied, sounding resigned. “I think this is our only chance.”

Diana sighed and nodded. “Fine. But you get to tell Sarah.”

Matthew nodded and went downstairs to make arrangements while Diana sat in bed and finished her tea. She was just considering trying to get dressed when her mother slipped into the room. She had a strange look on her face that Diana attributed to the previous day’s events. “How long have you been up?” Rebecca asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“Not long – Matthew brought tea,” Diana said, indicating the cup. “I woke up briefly earlier, but then went back to sleep. I still feel so drained.”

“There’s a reason for that,” her mother commented drily, indicating the bandage on her arm. “I know why you did it, but it was extremely reckless. He could have killed you.”

Diana sighed. Not another lecture. “I don’t want to argue about this,” she finally said when her mother made it clear she wouldn’t take silence as a response. “Who was that little boy you were playing with yesterday afternoon?” she asked, trying to change the subject.

Her mother didn’t answer right away, instead frowning as she studied Diana’s face for a moment. What will it take to convince her I’ll be okay? she wondered in frustration. She’s almost as bad as Matthew. “His family belongs to the local coven,” Rebecca murmured, continuing to watch her daughter closely. “His parents weren’t available to look after him for a little while and he went home before Matthew and the others returned from their hunting trip.”

“Weird. I didn’t recognize him,” Diana commented, flicking a glance out the window as if she expected to see him down there again. “I know it’s been a while since I’ve spent a lot of time in Madison, but I thought I still knew most of the local kids.”

“His parents don’t live here full time, from what I understand,” Rebecca explained, pulling Diana’s arm out to check the bandage. “It’s the first time I’ve met him myself.”

“And they didn’t mind dropping him off here with vampires guarding the property?” Diana asked, still feeling slow and a bit confused. Sarah hadn’t had any guests over – especially not other witches – while she and Matthew had been there, in deference to his concerns over their continued security.

“It didn’t come up.” Rebecca stood up and gave her daughter a final once over. “You seem to be doing better this morning. Want some help taking a bath? I don’t want you to slip and hit your head, but I imagine it would feel nice to clean off all the dirt and grime from yesterday.”

“Yes please,” Diana groaned, making her mother smile. “That sounds like heaven.”

Matthew stalked downstairs, still coldly furious even – no especially – after his conversation with Diana. Knowing his wife had conspired with his own son to keep something so monumental from him…he hadn’t been lying when he confessed his desire to tear them all limb from limb earlier. No, the lie had been his apparently calm exterior as they discussed their plans to timewalk. The other vampires wouldn’t be fooled, however, even if Diana had – they’d all known him far too long for that.

“Where is he?” he snapped at Bertrand as he entered the kitchen. The other vampire raised his eyebrows in silent question, but Matthew just continued to glower until he sighed in resignation, shaking his head ruefully.

“Perimeter sweep with Miriam while Diana’s aunts are out picking up supplies.” Matthew nodded and started to move past, but Bertrand stopped him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Don’t go out there while you’re still angry, my friend. Give yourself time to cool off before you talk to Marcus – you don’t want to say something you might regret.”

“He’s my son,” Matthew spat, eyes flashing dangerously. Don’t test me, not on this. “And Diana is my wife. He had no right –”

“Matt, I love you, but you’re being a pig-headed fool,” Bertrand observed calmly, cutting off Matthew’s objections with a look. “I know you love the boy in your own way, but if you don’t stop using him as your punching bag and start showing it, he’s going to walk away from you one of these days – permanently. If I had thrown half the shit at Jason over the centuries that you have at Marcus, he’d have murdered me in my sleep, not uprooted his entire life and flown across an ocean to stand guard over my wife. All on a moment’s notice, I might add, and without you even having to ask.”

Matthew glared at his best friend in frustration, knowing the man was right, but still too angry to make himself care. “I’ll take that under advisement,” he replied stiffly, voice short and clipped, before stalking outside in search of his son. He followed his nose and found Marcus at the property line in the woods, out past the hop barn. It was far enough from the house to be out of earshot, even for vampires, provided there wasn’t any shouting. Miriam was nowhere to be seen. Being so far from Diana after the attack made him nervous, but he didn’t want the others overhearing this particular conversation.

“Matthew! Is Diana alright?” Marcus asked, sounding concerned. He clearly couldn’t imagine any other reason that would take Matthew from his wife’s bedside after the scare they’d all had the previous day.

“When were you going to tell me about New Orleans?” Matthew demanded, trying and failing to keep the fury from his voice.

Marcus’s face fell. “Oh. That. I’m sorry, Matthew, but she asked me not to – I didn’t feel right breaking her confidence or violating her privacy after I’d given her my word.”

“She’s my wife,” Matthew snarled, taking an angry half-step forward. “Mine. I had a right to know.”

“She said she wasn’t – not when she was there, anyway,” Marcus protested, making placating gestures with his hands, but not backing down, not giving even an inch. “It must have been some time before March. She certainly didn’t smell like you were mated yet.”

“January,” Matthew acknowledged mechanically. “She said it was back in January.”

“You see?” Marcus shot back. “And even if you had been, you know I couldn’t have said anything.”

“I know no such thing,” Matthew snapped.

Marcus rolled his eyes in disgust and Matthew began practically vibrating in fury. “Vampires don’t tell tales – or at least that’s what Fanny and Ysabeau drilled into my head. It was up to Diana – and only Diana – to tell you what happened in New Orleans. For fuck’s sake, I know you know better, even if you abdicated your responsibilities in raising me,” he pointed out, making Matthew’s breath catch in his chest. “I was, what, only sixty days old when you packed me off to France with Gallowglass? You don’t get to criticize how I learned my lessons when you couldn’t even be bothered to be the one to teach me.”

Matthew looked away, thoroughly chastened. Marcus was right – as was Bertrand. I should never have come out here. He’d been a piss-poor father and it pained him to be so viscerally reminded of all the ways he’d failed over the centuries in that respect. Before he’d finally found Diana, he would have left the conversation there and retreated to the house to continue his brooding in private. Watching his wife visibly wilt – despite her best efforts pretending otherwise – at even the thought of her mother’s disapproval had opened his eyes. So now, after a year of noticing how devastated she’d become every time she thought Rebecca didn’t care about her or, worse, was ashamed of her…he could no longer stay silent in the face of his son’s distress.

“Christ, Marcus, I’m so sorry,” he murmured, everything tumbling out in a rush before he could convince himself to keep his mouth shut and take the coward’s way out. “I should never have let my temper get the better of me. I…I can’t seem to help myself, it all just seems so…” His voice trailed off, bewildered. But how do I explain without revealing secrets better left buried? “I don’t know. I feel like I’m trapped in a dense fog and I can’t see the way out.”

Marcus’s eyes softened, the anger etched into his features melting away with each word. “You almost died, Matthew.” His voice was quiet and – Matthew was astonished to hear – pained. “You almost died and your mate was gravely injured. She’s still recovering. It’s not surprising that you’d feel anxious and unmoored.”

Matthew nodded, blinking back tears. “You’re right.” It came out as barely more than a whisper. “About all of it. You didn’t deserve my censure, especially not for that. I’m sorry.”

He turned back to face his son. Marcus’s mouth was practically hanging open in shock. He blinked, then swallowed. “I’m…right?” he echoed, sounding bewildered.

“You are.” Matthew nodded, clearing his throat. It was still tight with emotion, but he was determined to get this out before his nerve failed him. “I should be thanking you for guarding my wife’s secrets with such diligence…and instead I’m standing here berating you.” He ran a hand through his hair, trying to ground himself. “Please accept my apology.”

Marcus’s shoulders relaxed and he nodded. “For what it’s worth, Ransome didn’t think it was a good idea. He’s been badgering me to tell you since you left Juliette back in the nineteenth century.”

Matthew dismissed the objection with a shake of his head. “As charming as he can be, your son has largely let avarice and self-preservation dictate his actions for the majority of his existence,” he observed, not entirely managing to keep his distaste for his eldest grandchild from his voice. “You, on the other hand, have always been guided by your principles, first and foremost – no matter where they might lead.”

The two vampires stood there, facing each other, unmoving, while Matthew considered his words. “I’ve often wished I had half your courage,” he said wistfully, visibly startling his son with his confession. “It’s one of the things that drew me to you in the first place. Your courage, your intellect, your compassion…they’re rare gifts. I consider myself fortunate to have you for a son, I hope you know that.”

Marcus put a hand behind the nape of his neck and ducked his head in embarrassment at this uncharacteristic outpouring of affection from his father. He gave a single, sharp nod of acknowledgement and they both began walking back to the house in silence, side by side.

October 25, 1999

The next morning, Diana sat on the porch, recuperating and enjoying a fresh mug of tea when she heard the door open behind her. She turned, expecting to see Matthew, but found her mother there instead. The past two months together had done a lot to repair their relationship, but Diana still had a small, reflexive feeling of annoyance – or was it anxiety? she wasn’t really sure – every time she found herself in a situation where it was just the two of them alone without anyone else as a buffer. She stifled a disappointed sigh, knowing it wasn’t fair and would only hurt the other woman to hear. “Hi, Mom. Everything okay?”

Rebecca pulled up a chair and sat down next to her. “I was just about to ask you the same thing. You seem to have a lot more energy than yesterday,” she observed cautiously.

How long is it going to take before we’re no longer walking on eggshells around each other? Diana wondered, then nodded. “Starting to feel more myself, yeah. I’m not used to feeling quite so weak – I’m used to telling my body what to do and having it listen.”

Rebecca gave an amused snort. “You’ve never been good at being sick. You used to drive yourself absolutely crazy when you were little and had to stay in bed – and the rest of us along with you. I remember this one time, Stephen…”

Diana let her mind wander as her mother reminisced, enjoying the easy companionship. It was nice – almost like being part of a normal family, instead of on the run from a pack of power-hungry creatures. She smiled, happy and free in her mother’s presence in a way she hadn’t experienced since her father died. “I’m glad you’ve gotten a chance to know Matthew. Do you think Daddy would’ve liked him?” She found her voice breaking slightly on the last sentence.

Rebecca shot her an amused smile. “Well, I don’t know if any parent is ready to see their child grow up, not really, but it’s clear how much he loves you and that alone would have meant the world to your dad. We’ve only ever wanted you to be happy and safe.”

“What about you?” The question had been eating at her for weeks, but she hadn’t had the courage to ask.

Rebecca gave her a considering look. “Does it matter what I think?”

Diana flushed and looked away, embarrassed. “I guess not, not really,” she admitted before turning back and looking her mother squarely in the face. “I love him and there’s nothing anyone could say or do to make me give him up. I know because Satu tried. But that doesn’t mean I don’t still hope you’ll like him too.”

Her mother smiled at her, an expression like pride suffusing her eyes and mouth. “There’s my girl – I wouldn’t expect anything less, not if you really loved him.” Diana’s eyes began to tear up slightly – she wiped at them, trying to keep from crying. “And for the record, I do like him. Do I wish that loving him didn’t put you in the danger you’re in now? Of course I do, but my own mother felt the same about your dad. And I’m not enough of a hypocrite to condemn your relationship when I never picked the safe road either.”

“I’m glad he’ll be coming with me, wherever and whenever we’re headed,” Diana confessed hesitantly. “I love past versions of him too, but I’ve never gotten to bring him with me before. I usually just show up and disrupt his day.” She laughed, remembering some of the trouble she’d caused him over the last year.

“It is quite the adventure,” Rebecca commented drily, then smiled. “I used to love going with your father – a week or two in a completely different century isn’t like any other vacation.”

Diana chuckled. “I can only imagine. The longest I’ve ever stayed in the past is about eighteen hours – though it’s usually a lot shorter than that. Minutes or a few hours at most.”

Rebecca’s face sobered. “Deliberate timewalking can be pretty different than those short jumps – the longer you’re in the past, the more preparation is required. I’m pretty nervous about sending you back with so little time – no time, really – to research where you’ll be going.”

“But I’ll have Matthew,” Diana observed, a smile playing across her lips. “He always takes care of me when I visit him. And this time he’ll be coming along – he was there the first time, after all.”

“True, but you weren’t,” Rebecca pointed out. “And while you’ve visited him before, you’ve always left before you had to deal with the consequences. That won’t be true this time.”

Diana nodded absently, understanding her mother’s concerns, even if she didn’t entirely share them. She’s just being protective. “You know, the first time I jumped into Matthew’s past, I visited him during the American Revolution. It was so cool! I met the Marquis de Lafayette.”

“Not George Washington?” Rebecca teased.

Diana laughed. “No, not Washington, though Marcus was there too – he lent me some clothes. I’m always showing up in outfits that look completely out of place! Matthew keeps things for me at most of his houses, but I know I’ve caused him a few headaches over the years.”

Rebecca joined her daughter laughing. “Poor man didn’t know what he was getting himself into when he fell in love with you, did he?”

Diana blushed and shook her head. “No, he couldn’t have, not really. He was still human and younger than I am now – not to mention almost fifteen hundred years removed from my lifetime. There’s no way to really understand what that means, I think, until you’ve lived it.”

“Besides, we Bishops never make things easy on the ones we love. We’re a notoriously difficult bunch,” Rebecca confided with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

Diana snorted and rolled her eyes skyward. “That’s not exactly a secret. Did I tell you how Matthew reacted when I got home from that first jump to the Revolutionary War?” Rebecca shook her head, clearly enjoying both the stories and the chance at bonding with her daughter. “I swear, he nearly had a heart attack! He immediately ordered every vaccination he could get his hands on and made me sit through about half a dozen new shots plus boosters. Poor guy was terrified I’d contract smallpox or something.”

Rebecca’s grin faded instantly. “Goddess, I’d forgotten you never got the smallpox vaccination. It wasn’t offered anymore by the time you were old enough. Stephen actually did try to get it for you, knowing you’d be a timewalker too, but we didn’t have a good enough reason we could tell people or the connections necessary to make it happen.” Her pale face studied Diana, as if checking for signs of illness. “So, Matthew took care of that last year?”

Diana nodded in confirmation. “Smallpox, yellow fever, the whole works! I felt like absolute crap for a few days, but now I should be protected.”

Rebecca breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness. I can’t believe I’d let myself forget.”

Before Diana could open her mouth to respond, Matthew came out and greeted her with a kiss. “I’m sorry to interrupt the gossip session, but Emily is saying that lunch will be ready soon and asks that you both make your way inside.”

Diana blushed. Vampires, she reminded herself, they can hear everything. She stood up and took his outstretched hand. “Lunch sounds perfect. I’m starving.”

Chapter Text

Madison, New York
October 26, 1999

The days in the wake of Juliette’s attack were a whirlwind of activity. Sarah and Rebecca did their best to cram as much magical practice in for Diana as they could while Emily made sure her niece got the rest and care she so sorely needed. Miriam took over responsibility for the property’s security – managing the schedule and rotation while also doing the bulk of the patrols – so that Bertrand and Marcus could assist Matthew while he tried to figure out how far back he and Diana should go. Pinpointing the best time was tricky: too close to the present and there wouldn’t be sufficiently powerful witches to teach Diana, but the further back they went, the more dangerous it would become.

“You know it can’t be any time after 1745,” he’d reminded them after Marcus’s latest attempt at suggesting 1780’s Paris. His son had loved the lead up to the French Revolution – he’d been a new vampire at the time, finally given the means and freedom to enjoy life – and so regarded the period with fond nostalgia. Matthew was nearly positive that his son’s fixation was due to some lingering hope he’d be able to accompany them. Not that there’s any chance of that…I don’t think Diana could manage timewalking with both of us along for the ride.

But no, anything beyond the mid eighteenth century was completely out of the question and even that recent might be cutting it too close. It had been a difficult and confusing time – he’d finally been allowed to return from his exile in Asia, but Louisa’s sudden death had shocked them all, leaving both him and Ysabeau in a state of mourning that lasted decades. And through that haze, he and Gallowglass had ended up in Scotland – dispatched by Philippe to offer their expertise and report back.

What a resounding failure that was…not that we’d actually been expected to succeed. His father had considered it enough of a long shot that the proffered support had not extended to any kind of financial backing, despite numerous pleas from well-connected and powerful individuals like the Pope. And unfortunately, Juliette’s first approach came shortly after his return to France following the collapse of the Jacobites and she’d gone on to dog his heels for decades, despite his initial disinterest and subsequent rebuff. She’d existed at the periphery of his attention while she tried to figure out how to worm her way into his his heart – or at the very least, into his bed.

At first, he’d managed to avoid the entanglement through the fortuitous combination of her poor timing and his familial responsibilities. Diana’s visit in the spring of 1744 had been so emotionally significant for him – really matched only by their time together in Rome and Jerusalem since his rebirth – that it had overshadowed everything else for many years after. Hell, he still sometimes woke to the fleeting impression of a rounded belly against his thigh or under his outstretched palm.

But the joy and contentment from what he’d experienced couldn’t last forever, no matter how tightly he’d clung to the memory – the daily effort of simply existing in a time and place without her eventually wore him down. So after nearly a century of careful avoidance and good judgment, he eventually gave into temptation and made the nearly fatal error of inviting Juliette into his bed. The affair hadn’t lasted long – events in New Orleans had shown him just how terrible an idea it was – but the damage had already been done. And now that she was finally gone for good, he was determined not to do anything or go anywhere that might bring her back.

His brother’s past activities were another crucial consideration. They needed to avoid Baldwin almost as badly as Juliette and he cast a much, much longer shadow. It was a frustrating problem and they didn’t have long to solve it. Gerbert, Knox, and the rest of the Congregation were already baying for their blood and would soon be nipping at their heels if they didn’t find somewhere to hide – and quickly.

The most promising idea he’d had come up with so far was to stay with Hugh and Fernando during the latter half of the eleventh century just before the First Crusade. Baldwin had been suitably absent – too consumed with his duties on Philippe’s behalf to bother with social visits after his brother had insisted on breaking away from the family. It had been a tumultuous time for all of them, Matthew remembered, and especially so for a vampire as young and troubled as he’d been back then. But despite it all, he couldn’t fault his brother for leaving when Hugh had been unable to reconcile his respect for his father and his love for his mate. I can’t say I’d have done any different if it had been Diana who Philippe objected to and not Fernando.

Pious Catholic and dutiful son though he was, Matthew had thrown his enthusiastic support behind the couple. Perhaps it was overly idealistic, but he’d found himself unwilling to deny two creatures their happiness, no matter how contrary to Church doctrine or their father’s desires. No, he’d experienced enough heartbreak at the hands of fate and he simply hadn’t been able to stomach the idea of deliberately causing anyone, let alone someone he loved, that kind of pain. His father’s unwillingness to look past his own judgments – and on Fernando’s usefulness of all things! it still made him sick – had been a sore spot that never fully healed, especially after Hugh’s untimely death.

The biggest downside to the plan, aside from the difficulty of being forced to say goodbye to his brother again, was the additional language barriers it would place between Diana and any potential teachers she might find. Her Latin had improved over the last year with her frequent forays into his past, but she lacked the necessary vocabulary for discussing magic, especially with any precision. An imperfect grasp of the concepts she needed to learn could be disastrous – deadly, even – when it was time for them to return home.

Matthew was just debating whether or not to call Fernando – maybe he’ll have a suggestion we haven’t considered, he mused hopefully – when the doorbell rang, pulling his attention away from that morning’s discussion. It’s not like it’s been exactly productive, anyway, he sighed, making his way into the living room so he could keep a protective eye on Diana while Sarah went to answer the door.

The house had readied yet another room the night before and bets on who would arrive next had ranged from Ysabeau herself to Emily’s college roommate. The prospect of having yet more creatures in the house – witch or vampire – was enough to put him thoroughly on edge. He placed himself firmly between his wife and the hallway and just barely resisted the urge to fidget. He had no intention of letting anyone get anywhere near Diana until he was satisfied they didn’t pose a threat. I will not allow myself to be caught off-guard again.

“Yes?” he heard Sarah say as she opened the front door. “Can I help you?”

“Sorry to disturb you, ma’am. My name is Jeffrey Norman and this is my daughter, Sophie. We’re looking for Diana Bishop. Is she here?” asked another, unfamiliar, voice. The speaker was male and sounded older than either of the Bishop sisters, though with a softly Southern twang. Matthew bristled, concerned that the stranger had known to ask for Diana here in Madison when he was clearly so far from home.

Rebecca, Bertrand, and Matthew all converged on the hall while Diana trailed a bit behind. Matthew shot her a look, silently begging her to stay safely back and away from any confrontation, but she ignored it and continued forward. He frowned, torn between his impulse to haul her back to a more protected position and his worry over disrupting the conversation – or giving away their presence to the visitor talking to Sarah.

“I’m her aunt,” they heard her reply. “What is it you want with my niece?”

“Sophie’s been having dreams about her and this house here for months now.” Matthew glanced curiously at Rebecca and found she looked thoughtful rather than surprised. “I promise, we don’t want any trouble – we have something we need to give her, along with a message, then we’ll be on our way. That’s it, I swear.”

Matthew heard Rebecca hum quietly to herself for the briefest moment before she pushed past him and Bertrand to join her sister. “Sarah, let them in.” Matthew started to growl a protest, but she silenced him with a sharp look. “She’s just a child.” He swallowed, hesitating, then reluctantly stepped aside – though he still intended to keep himself between Diana and the newcomers, no matter what her mother might say.

Sarah glanced at her sister and threw up her hands before she finally let their visitors inside. “If you think we can keep any more creatures in the house without attracting notice, you’re all crazy,” she grumbled as she trudged back toward where they’d all been gathered. “Every witch from Albany to Rochester is bound to come looking if this keeps up much longer. We might as well be sending a flare up for the Congregation.”

They all filed obediently into the dining room – now the only room in the house large enough to fit everyone – and began arranging themselves in a loose semi-circle with Diana flanked by protectors on both sides. The witches present probably haven’t even noticed the way the rest of us fell into position to guard her, he realized. The instinctive behavior calmed him slightly – at least until her eyes met the girl’s and she gasped. He stiffened, ready to defend his wife, no matter how non-threatening the offending creature might seem. He’d learned the consequences of carelessness the hard way and it wasn’t an experience he ever wanted to repeat.

“You’re a daemon!” Diana’s surprise echoed throughout the room as everyone turned to look. A daemon, the child of a witch? That’s impossible – we’ve never seen any evidence of cross-species breeding like that in any of our research. And I’ve certainly never met any daemons or witches who were part of a mixed-species family. He glanced over and saw his shock mirrored on Miriam’s face.

The older man – Jeffrey, Matthew reminded himself – put his arm protectively around his daughter. “My wife…she was also a witch, you see, though she died a few years ago. We had Sophie late in life. And she’s our only child.” Matthew’s eyes softened slightly, though his stance remained rigid. “Our local coven has helped us keep her a secret from the Congregation all these years. We wouldn’t even be here – no matter what I promised my own mother – except Sophie hasn’t been able to sleep soundly since the dreams started. I’m hoping that she’ll finally get some relief by coming here, despite the risk to her safety.”

“What promise?” Diana asked, stepping toward him, but then stopped when Matthew put a hand on her arm, trying to keep some distance between them. He heard her huff, but she didn’t move any closer or protest any further.

Emily reentered the room and began putting out cookies, nuts, and a variety of beverages for all present. “Everyone please sit.”

Once everyone in the room found an appropriate chair, Jeffrey reached into his bag and pulled out a small package wrapped in oilcloth. “We’ve been keeping this for you for a long time. No one’s sure just how long, though – our earliest written records date to the late seventeenth century and its origins were unknown even then.” He fidgeted with the string keeping the covering in place, but didn’t begin untying it. “It’s been passed down in the family, witch to witch, while we’ve waited for some sign of who we should give it to. There used to be a note attached, but it was lost generations ago.”

Diana frowned as she studied the package on the table. “Do you know what it said?”

“‘When the time comes, give it to one who has need of it,’” the girl recited with the cadence of a memorized and regularly repeated story. Her voice was high pitched and child-like, but with a dreamy, unfocused quality common to daemons. “We’ve made sure to remember the message. We knew you’d want to know.”

“Er, yes. Thank you, Sophie,” Diana replied, darting a quick look at Matthew before returning her attention to the young daemon in front of them. He couldn’t help but smile and relaxed his posture slightly – he’d always had a soft spot for the creatures. And she does seem sweet.

“It has to be wrapped up or it turns black. And it’s not supposed to be black, it’s supposed to be white,” the girl added cryptically as her father started untying the knots one by one. Once unwrapped, a small, silver statue of the goddess stood gleaming on the table. All ease left his body in an instant. He tried to speak, but the words caught in his throat. Kit?

“It’s Diana,” his wife said, voice puzzled. “I mean, it looks like a representation of the Roman goddess, Diana. But why bring it here? What’s it for?”

“Where did you get that?” Matthew finally croaked. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing, wasn’t entirely sure he wasn’t actually dreaming.

Jeffrey shrugged, but Diana flashed him a concerned look, clearly having noticed the change in his mood. “I’m sorry, nobody really knows. The Norman family has just always had it.”

Marcus frowned, glancing between them as he tried to decipher the undercurrents of tension in the room. “What’s wrong, Matthew? Do you know what that is?”

“It’s a chess piece,” he answered, running a hand through his hair while he stared fixedly at the shining silver figurine. It was still beautiful and in nearly pristine condition – despite the many years, it looked like it had barely aged a day. “The white queen.”

Sarah scoffed, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. “And how could you possibly know that?” She sounded understandably skeptical. “It’s not like any chess piece I’ve ever seen.”

“Because it was once mine.” He swallowed hard, forcing himself to push past the blockage in his throat. “My…my father gave it to me.”

He stared, transfixed, as the others started muttering between themselves. “But how did it end up in – sorry, Jeffrey, where did you say your family is from?” Diana asked after a long pause, giving voice to the question on his – and probably everyone else’s – mind.

“North Carolina,” he responded without skipping a beat, then quickly glanced between his daughter and the rest of the room. His instincts have to screaming at him to leave, he’s obviously noticed how vulnerable they are here. They’re surrounded and boxed in by so many unfamiliar creatures, but he’s choosing to stay put anyway, Matthew realized, distrust giving way to a wary sense of respect. “A town called Seven Devils. It’s a little like this, come to think of it. But our family’s lived there for as long as we can remember – back since well before the Salem trials, let alone the Revolutionary War.”

Diana looked at Matthew expectantly, but he had no answers for her – no answers for any of them. “I have no idea, I haven’t seen it in centuries. I lost it in a wager a long time ago.”

Rebecca looked at him sharply. “Do you remember when you last had it?”

“I remember precisely.” Matthew put his head in his hands, feeling thoroughly overwhelmed. “I was playing a game with it many years ago on All Souls’ Night. It was then that I lost my wager.”

“That’s in less than a week.” Bertrand sounded thoughtful. “Would timewalking be easier around the feasts of All Saints and All Souls?”

“Bertrand,” Matthew hissed, furious, his head snapping up so he could glare at his friend. What the bloody hell is he thinking?

“There’s not much keeping the living from the dead between Halloween and All Souls,” Sarah mused, ignoring his unspoken objection. “It would be easier to slip between the past and the present then.” It was all Matthew could do not to start shouting at the whole lot of them. I do not want to have this conversation until Jeffrey and the girl are gone. We still don’t know if they can be trusted. And besides, the more people who know what we’re planning, the bigger the risk.

“Will Diana be strong enough by then?” Rebecca turned to ask Marcus. “She’s still recovering from her injuries.”

“I’m fine –” Diana started to say, but Matthew cut her off.

“You are not fine,” he retorted hotly. It had been mere days since she’d lost enough blood that she’d needed an emergency transfusion. “And I don’t think we should be discussing this in mixed company.” He shot Jeffrey a worried glance, who – thankfully – didn’t appear to be offended.

Marcus nodded at her, carefully avoiding eye contact with his father. “Yes, she should be.” He waited for a beat. “I think.”

Matthew sucked in a sharp breath. “You think –”

“This time of year, it should be easier for Diana to timewalk,” Sarah mused, ignoring both his outburst and the furious looks. She had her lips pursed in either amusement or annoyance at his behavior – though he couldn’t tell which. Before he could open his mouth to object again, however, the house began banging the doors open and shut until Diana got up to investigate. Matthew followed her into the keeping room, the rest of the creatures in the house close on their heels. She’d just stopped by the fireplace when a small, fabric-covered object shot directly into her hands. It was old and smelled of dust and herbs. Only the faintest whiff of sulfur – the tell-tale mark it had once been handled by a witch – remained on the scrap of cloth.

“I’ve never seen such an old poppet,” Sophie murmured, staring at it with interest. “I wonder where it came from.”

“Poppet?” Miriam’s question cracked over the group like a whip, startling everyone and drawing their attention. “Didn’t one of your ancestors get in trouble over a poppet?”

“Bridget Bishop,” Sarah, Emily, Rebecca, and Diana all answered in unison. It began to disintegrate rapidly as Diana pulled at it, revealing an enormous pearl earring. Matthew felt all the remaining blood drain from his face.

“How the hell did one of my mother’s earrings get into Bridget Bishop’s poppet?” His voice was harsh with shock.

Miriam shot him an inscrutable look. “Were your mother’s earrings in the same place as the chess set the night you lost your bet?”

Were they? he asked himself, mind racing. Christ, I think they were. He nodded, swallowing hard. “Is five days enough time to prepare? I think I know where we’re supposed to go.”

Diana looked at him with wide eyes as the rest shuffled out – Emily and Rebecca began getting Jeffrey and Sophie settled while the vampires started a patrol of the property. Even Sarah had left them alone, taking the opportunity to sneak a cigarette on the porch while her partner was otherwise occupied. “Matthew?”

He shook his head. “Not yet, mon coeur. I promise I’ll tell you, but I need some time to think it all through.” She nodded and he gathered her into his arms, head spinning with the revelations of the day. It’s been so long, I can’t believe I’ll get to see them all again.

October 27, 1999

The day after the Normans’ arrival, the house rearranged itself with yet more rooms. A bedroom was added to the second floor along with another bathroom and an extra linen closet filled to the brim with clean, though slightly threadbare, towels. I guess the house is worried about our collective hygiene? Even if most of us are vampires and don’t sweat or need to sleep very often, Matthew reflected, torn between amusement over the house’s antics and concern over just who’d be showing up next.

“Who do you think it is this time?” Diana asked her mother as the three of them sat together in the living room after dinner. Everyone else had scattered immediately following the meal and she’d been banished from the kitchen after trying to help clean up. Matthew, her mother, and her aunts were still trying to get her to rest and recuperate – a losing battle if I’ve ever seen one, he thought with a grimace – and she’d been chafing against the restrictions.

Matthew cleared his throat. “I have a delivery coming sometime tonight or tomorrow. Some things to assist with the timewalking this weekend.”

Rebecca shook her head. “No, not a delivery. Or rather, not just a delivery.”

Who, then, if the house isn’t expecting Alain? he wondered, frowning, just as a knock sounded on the front door. He raced to open it, wanting to avoid any of the fragile warmbloods in residence ending up in the line of fire, should their new visitor pose a threat. He opened the door and stopped cold, surprised by the face looking back at him. “Hamish? What are you doing here?”

The daemon’s expression was grim. He held up an envelope with Matthew’s seal on the front in black wax. “I’m given to understand from this letter and my conversation with your mother that there’s some trouble brewing.”

“Yes,” Matthew replied, then hesitated, unsure exactly how to explain. Diana came up behind him, putting a hand on his arm. She’ll invite him in even if I don’t, if only to keep the house happy, he realized, quickly moving aside. “Come, Hamish. This is Diana, which I’m sure you’ve already deduced. Marcus and her Aunt Sarah haven’t quite demolished the whiskey supply yet. We’ll get you a drink and sit you by the fire.”

Hamish followed him inside, taking in all the faces – familiar and unfamiliar – peering back at them. “While visiting your mother, who was far more willing to answer my questions than you would have been, by the way, I learned that you wanted a few things from home. It seemed a shame for Alain to make such a long trip when I was already going to come and ask you what the hell you were up to.” He handed Matthew the bulky leather briefcase he’d been carrying.

“Thank you, Hamish.” Matthew had to work hard to keep his frustration out of his voice. Maman should know better than to meddle without first discussing it with me, he reflected sourly.

“Speaking of explanations, it’s a damn good thing the French don’t care about the exportation of English national treasures,” Hamish said crossly as he followed Matthew into the living room. “Have you any idea of the paperwork that would have been required to get this out of England? And that’s if they’d have let me remove it at all, which I highly doubt, no matter how influential you are or how many palms you were willing to grease.”

“Hello, Hamish – I see you’ve been roped in too,” Bertrand commented drily as he entered the room. Matthew shot him a glare, which he promptly ignored. Typical. “It’s good to see you, though. Has Matt bothered introducing you to anyone or is he still glowering at you for disrupting his unnecessarily convoluted plans?”

“I haven’t had a chance yet,” Matthew grumbled, making both men turn and smirk back at him. Just what I need, my two best friends ganging up on me together – and with Rebecca, Sarah, and Miriam as backup. Delightful. I’ll be lucky to make it to Sunday without going completely mad.

Rebecca stepped forward to shake Hamish’s hand.”Hi, I’m Rebecca Bishop. It’s nice to meet you.”

Hamish blanched as he gingerly took the witch’s hand. “It’s good to meet you too,” he managed to choke out, throwing Matthew a furious look. I guess Ysabeau didn’t tell him everything – probably because she realized he wouldn’t come if he’d been properly warned. “I apologize for my surprise, but I was under the impression you and Diana weren’t on speaking terms.”

Rebecca grimaced slightly, then put on a deliberate, too-cheery smile. Matthew recognized the expression – her daughter made the exact same face when she wanted to hide how hurt she was. Damn, he thought, wincing in sympathy. The past two months had made it clear – to him, at least – just how much she loved her daughter and had hated their estrangement, no matter how necessary it had been at the time. “It’s a long story, I’m afraid. I’m sure Matthew will fill you in later.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it,” Hamish muttered under his breath, earning him a reproachful look.

“...in the meantime,” Rebecca continued smoothly, as if it were perfectly normal for the family to host more than half a dozen other creatures – primarily vampires and daemons – in the house at once. “Why don’t I show you to your room? You and Matthew can catch up after you’ve settled in. We’ve got a number of people staying here at the moment, we can do the full round of introductions in a bit.”

Hamish nodded faintly, shooting Matthew a look of concern as he followed her out of the room. It serves him right for just showing up like this, Matthew thought resentfully as they passed out of sight. “What’s in there?” Diana asked, indicating the briefcase that Hamish had handed over.

He shook his head. “Not now. We’ll discuss it later.” Once I know that nobody else is listening in. The fewer creatures who know our final destination, the safer we’ll be.

“You keep saying that, but it never seems to be ‘later.’ I will need to know where we’re going eventually,” she complained, glaring at him.

“You will, mon coeur,” he tried reassuring her, though she didn’t look convinced. “I promise. But you have enough to worry about right now. Let me handle these logistics. Please?”

She held his stare for a minute before sighing in resignation. “Fine.”

He sat down, pulling her onto his lap and kissing her until she finally started to smile. “I love you,” he whispered as he nuzzled her neck.

“Get a room!” they heard Bertrand call from the hallway, making them stop and look guiltily at one another. Diana started to giggle, then, which soon had Matthew chuckling involuntarily alongside her. What I wouldn’t give for a lifetime of nights just like this, he thought happily as he walked up the stairs behind her.

Chapter Text

Madison, New York
October 28, 1999

“So, who do you think is showing up next?” Em asked Diana as they worked together in the kitchen, cleaning up the dishes from dinner. The house had added yet another bedroom to the second floor in the mid-afternoon and they’d all spent the past few hours trading guesses about who was coming and when they’d be likely to arrive. They’d even gone so far as to set an extra plate for the meal that evening, but their mysterious visitor hadn’t appeared. The mood was also a bit tense, which had everyone on edge. There was a sense of palpable unease from Matthew in particular and even Bertrand – the most easy-going of the current residents – was starting to feel a bit cramped with all the extra bodies crammed into such a small space.

“No idea.” Diana shook her head and frowned, too preoccupied to continue the conversation. It was Thursday night and they had only three more days until Halloween…only three more days with their friends and family – possibly forever, if she messed something up or couldn’t figure out how to get them home. So she was torn. She knew she should be savoring the time she had left with them, knew she’d end up furious at herself later when she was homesick or missed her aunts – or Mom, a small but insistent voice added in the back of her brain – but she just couldn’t seem to settle. The overcrowding in the house, the uncertainty over what they’d find when they timewalked, and the enforced inactivity from her earlier injuries had her practically crawling out of her skin. The only saving grace was that Matthew had finally stopped fretting whenever she tried helping with the chores.

“So, are you going to lend a hand? Or are you just planning to watch?” Em asked, making Diana lift her head up and look around in surprise. Matthew was standing in the doorway, a sheepish grin on his face.

“Hello, Emily.” He dipped his head in greeting, then walked over and wrapped Diana in a hug. She buried her face in his chest and relaxed into his arms, her nervous energy beginning to dissipate. “Do you mind if I borrow Diana for a few minutes?”

“Go ahead. We were almost done here anyway.” Diana pulled out of the embrace and shot Em a grateful look. She had just opened her mouth to suggest that he finally show her the items from Hamish’s briefcase when the doorbell rang, interrupting her train of thought and making all three heads swivel toward the sound. She watched Matthew disappear before putting down the dishrag and starting to follow.

“Can I help you?” She heard him ask from the entryway, the bite in his tone as warm and hospitable as the arctic tundra in winter.

“And who the fuck are you?” she heard a testy, though familiar, voice reply. She felt an involuntary grin begin spreading across her face. She ran out of the kitchen and to the front door just in time to catch her best friend’s reaction – frustration and displeasure, she noted with a tiny grimace – to the strange and visibly hostile man answering her door.

“Chris!” she called, maneuvering around her husband to give her friend a hug. “What are you doing here?” He looked her up and down – her delight at his arrival abruptly ended when she realized that the stormy expression on his face was aimed at her and not just Matthew. Shit.

“I came to see if you were here,” Chris replied, glaring daggers at her husband for a moment before switching his attention back to her. It sounded less like an answer and more like an accusation. “I’ve been so worried! You disappeared from Oxford, you haven’t been answering your email, nobody picked up the phone when I tried calling last weekend, and your mother’s research sabbatical got extended by another semester, so I couldn’t ask her either. If you weren’t here, my next step was to fly to England and harass the police into opening a missing persons case.”

He paused, frowning, then gestured at Matthew. “Diana...who is this? Where are Sarah and Em?”

Diana blushed, then swallowed. She’d been so wrapped up in their problems with the Congregation and learning magic that she’d forgotten to keep in touch with Chris. And she had some big news to share. Some big news she really should have shared months ago. Crap, he’s going to kill me. And even if he decides to forgive me, he’s never going to let me forget this. Never. “Chris, this is Matthew Clairmont,” she explained, gesturing at Matthew, then hesitated slightly before continuing. “My husband.”

Chris stared at her slack-jawed. “Husband?” he echoed incredulously. “Since when?”

Diana took a deep breath. “It’s...complicated,” she mumbled, hoping – though not with any great expectation of success – that it would be enough of an explanation. It wasn’t. He was pissed. Beyond pissed. Furious. Shit. She knew that look from long experience, though it wasn’t often directed at her. I have maybe another ten seconds before he tells me I’m on ‘thin fucking ice’ and to ‘stop dicking around’ and if I still don’t have an explanation after that…I might as well kiss our friendship goodbye. The thought was completely devastating. She didn’t have all that many friends to begin with…and certainly none she was nearly as close to as Chris. He was like the brother she’d never had and she knew he’d do almost anything for her – but the one thing he’d never been able to tolerate was being lied to. Which I’ve done almost continuously the entire time we’ve known each other.

She sighed, her shoulders slumping. She was terrified at the thought of losing him, but there was nothing she could say that would make this any better – except, perhaps, the truth. “About eight months,” she admitted sheepishly, not able to look him in the eye. “Though we still haven’t filed the paperwork, so it depends on who you ask.”

“Eight months?!” he exploded, making her wince. And now everyone on the property – warmbloods and vampires – will want to come see what’s going on out here. Great. “Why didn't you tell me? We’ve talked and emailed since then!”

She felt Matthew practically vibrating in fury, ready to intervene, when her mom poked her head around the logjam at the door. “If it makes you feel better, she didn’t tell me or her aunts either,” she commented dryly. Diana rolled her eyes and did her best not to huff in annoyance. Thanks, Mom. That was so helpful. “Hi Chris, it’s good to see you. Will you come in?”

“Professor Bishop?” Chris quickly glanced at Diana before looking back at her mother, stunned. “You’re supposed to be in Africa.”

“Yes, well, you’re supposed to be in Cambridge and Diana is supposed to be in Oxford,” she pointed out. “Circumstances have been a tad strange the last few months. Are you staying the weekend?” she asked, eyeing the bag in his right hand.

“That depends,” he replied, looking from Diana to her mother, then back to Matthew.

“On what exactly?” She was surprised by Matthew’s frosty reception. He hadn’t been particularly welcoming when any of the other guests arrived, but this level of hostility was new.

Chris narrowed his eyes. “On what the hell is going on here and whether I need to kick your ass for pushing Diana to get married without telling anyone.”

Diana sighed, stepping between them. Time to break up this male posturing. “Chris, come inside. We can talk upstairs and I’ll tell you everything.” She didn’t even try to keep her irritation out of her voice while she shot her husband an annoyed look. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you like, though far warning: you might run away screaming once you know everything.”

Her mind was a whirlwind as they walked upstairs to the newly-materialized bedroom. She’d never planned to tell Chris about any of this – magic or creatures – but there didn’t seem to be any way around it. She couldn’t pretend to be human anymore, no matter how badly she yearned for the safety of normality. And he was both smart and perceptive, he’d know if she was lying or only telling him half the story – it was almost as bad as talking to another witch. Given the events of the past six months, as well as all the visitors currently present, she couldn’t see a way of explaining the situation without simply coming clean. And it terrified her. What if he leaves?

Once upstairs behind closed doors, he practically exploded. “You married Matthew Clairmont?!” he hissed, conscious of any curious ears outside. “Last I heard you two were just dating. How the hell did he convince you to get married like that without telling any of us? He didn’t knock you up, did he?” he asked, quickly scanning her for signs of illness or pregnancy.

She was so surprised – and mortified – by the suggestion that she didn’t know how to respond. “Well, you don’t look pregnant,” he grumbled when she still hadn’t said anything after a full minute. “And I’d fucking hope you’d have told me if you’d had a baby, for fuck’s sake. Though after finding out you’ve been married for the better part of a year and didn’t tell me, I’m not sure what would surprise me anymore.”

She wished desperately that she hadn’t fucked this introduction up so badly. But I do not appreciate the implication that I’d have to be pregnant to explain getting married, even if we haven’t been together all that long. “Jesus, Chris. No, of course not,” she replied with a groan, rolling her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. “And we haven’t had the official ceremony yet – it’s more of a common-law, hand-fasting kind of marriage at the moment. It’s acknowledged by our families, but it’s not legally recognized.”

“Why?” he demanded, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Listen to yourself! Do you have any idea how shady this all fucking sounds? He’s almost twice your age and on the faculty at the university where you’re a student. Excuse me, where you were a student. Because it just so happens that after you started sleeping together, you suddenly decided to leave school – your dream program, need I remind you? – and disappear without a fucking word. So what the hell is going on?”

“Chris –” she began, but he put up a hand, effectively killing the half-hearted protests in her throat.

“Don’t.” He looked her up and down, then shook his head. “Never mind. I’ll get a motel room in town for the night and drive back to Cambridge in the morning. Have a nice life, Diana.”

Her heart dropped out of her chest. No. “Come on! I know you’re pissed I didn’t tell you earlier –”

You think that’s what I’m angry about, Diana?” he snapped, starting to pace. “No, I’m angry because you’re getting taken advantage of and you’re just going along with it. Do you think you deserve it somehow? Or is it that the shit with your mom left you so messed up that you can’t even fucking see it? And just for the record, I’m not pissed, I’m fucking livid.”

“He’s not.” The words just slipped out, barely above a whisper, but they were enough to make him stop and stare incredulously back at her. “Chris, I swear to god, that’s not what’s going on here. He loves me.”

“Really?” He shook his head and pursed his lips, like he was trying to keep himself from saying something he’d later regret. “Why’d you leave school, then? Why didn’t he marry you for real? Why keep the whole thing a secret? Because nothing about this –” he spat the word, gesturing at the door “– whole situation says ‘true love’ or ‘happily ever after’ to me, Diana.”

She sighed and sat down, motioning him to do likewise. His expression hardened and he simply stayed standing, arms crossed in front of his chest. Fine, but I’m not picking you up if you pass out. Everyone thinks they won’t be weirded out and then they run away screaming. It had taken months before her freshman roommate had been willing to look her in the eye – never mind actually be alone in their shared room together – after she’d attempted to explain just where the small burn marks on the rug had come from. She wasn’t exactly eager for a repeat of that particular experience.

“Because doing so would likely have gotten us killed,” she sighed, letting some of her own frustration bleed through. “And just so you know, Matthew and three of his friends downstairs can hear every word you’re saying, so please keep it civil. I don’t feel like having to referee a fight later.”

Chris shot her a furious glance. “How? Did your boyfriend – excuse me, husband – bug the house?”

Here goes nothing. “No. He’s a vampire. They have exceptional hearing.” Diana gulped, keeping an eye on Chris in case he decided to faint. She heard a crash from downstairs and winced. I hope nothing broke. “Maybe you should sit down.”

He looked at her like she’d lost her mind. “A vampire. Like on Buffy?” he confirmed carefully, sounding like he was readying a ride for her to the insane asylum.

Diana sighed and wearily shook her head. At least he’s still upright and listening. It could be a lot worse, she reminded herself. “Not exactly. They aren’t evil, for one – at least no more than anyone else is, anyway – and the whole face thing is pure fiction.”

“The face thing is pure fiction?” he repeated skeptically. “And what exactly isn’t fiction?”

She rubbed the bridge of her nose again. “They do drink blood, but not exclusively. They have heightened senses, so they can hear and smell things we can’t. They’re fast and strong, which also makes them really hard to kill,” she explained, trying to sound matter-of-fact, but failing miserably. She sighed again. This is a disaster. He’s going to try and have me committed. But she’d already said too much to back out now, so she decided to just plunge ahead. “But the rest is just a myth: a cross won’t do any damage, neither will a wooden stake. They don’t need invitations to enter anywhere, beyond the bounds of basic politeness, and neither holy water nor sacred ground have any effect. Is that enough detail?”

Chris ignored the question and continued to stare at her. “A vampire,” he echoed slowly, starting to nod to himself. She could practically see the wheels turning in his head. He finally took a seat and turned to glare at her. “You sound like you actually believe that.”

She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. “I do. I’ve known about vampires since I was a kid.”

“But you’re not claiming to be one too.” She shot him a startled look. “What? I've known for a while that you’re not like other people. So what exactly are you, then, Diana?”

Diana shook her head. “No, I’m not,” she whispered. Please don’t hate me. “I’m a witch.”

“Okay.” He paused, waiting for her to respond. “And?” he asked after a few moments when she stayed silent.

She looked at him, confused. “And what?”

Chris laughed. “That’s it? That’s what you’ve been afraid to tell me?” he asked incredulously. “That’s hardly the same as claiming that real-life vampires exist.”

Diana stood up and started pacing, suddenly no longer able to keep herself calm. “I’m not talking neo-pagan, Chris – though I am pagan. I’m a plays-with-the-elements, sees-the-future, time-traveling kind of witch,” she said in a rush, her volume rising with every word.

Great. The ‘how do I tell her I think she’s headed for the looney bin’ look is back on his face. Freaking fantastic. “Diana…what you’re saying sounds crazy, you know that right?” His voice was gentle and there was compassion in his eyes.

She glared back at him, irrationally angry at the doubt and pity in his expression, despite his obvious concern for her. “I’m not stupid, of course I know how it sounds,” she snapped. She felt her fingers begin to itch and she looked down, finding them crackling with blue electricity. Shit shit shit, not now!

Chris’s eyes opened wide as he stared open mouthed at her suddenly very visible outpouring of magic. “Diana,” he breathed, voice sounding strangled. “Tell me I’m seeing what I think I’m seeing.”

She sighed in resignation and the itching began to subside. “Sorry,” she mumbled, a bit embarrassed. “I don’t have great control yet and that happens sometimes when I get annoyed or frustrated. I put holes in the carpet earlier.”

“Are you working on a molecular level when you do that?” He sounded like a kid who’d just found out that Santa Claus was real.

She shrugged, shooting a glance at the door, almost expecting one of the vampires downstairs to make an appearance. “No idea.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “Sorry.”

“Cool,” Chris said, a wide grinning beginning to spread across his face. His excitement was contagious and she found herself fighting not to smile back at him. “Is that why you dropped out of Oxford? For magic lessons?”

Diana threw up her hands. “I didn’t drop out!” she insisted loudly. Grad school was still a sore subject. “And no – those have just been an added bonus. I left Oxford temporarily because Matthew and I had to get out of town quickly.”

After pacing for a moment, she pointed at him accusingly. “You’re taking this very well. You’re supposed to be shocked!”

“Oh, I’m plenty shocked,” he laughed, clearly delighted. “But I’ve always known something about you was different, I just hadn’t been expecting literal magic.” He eyed her exposed neck.”Or actual vampires.”

Diana groaned and rolled her eyes. “That’s not where he bites me.” Popular fiction has a lot to answer for, but at least he hasn’t fainted. Yet.

Chris blushed. “Where –” he started to ask, then paused and shook his head. “You know, nevermind. I don’t want to know.”

“Really?” She raised a questioning eyebrow. “You’ve never been squeamish about sex before.”

“I’m not…I didn’t…I wasn’t asking about sex,” he spluttered, cheeks turning red as she did her best not to laugh at his discomfort. “And your response tells me far more than I ever wanted to know, so thank you very much for that.”

She smirked, then sighed and sat back down. “Any other questions?”

He laughed and shook his head. “Only about a million.” He sounded amused, but then sobered quickly – she could almost see the mental gears turning as he reviewed everything she’d told him earlier. “But first, what did you mean when you said getting married out in the open would have gotten you killed?”

She looked down at her hands before answering him. Now we get to the hard part. “Vampires and witches...well, we’re not supposed to mix with one another. We’re allowed relationships with humans, to a degree, but not with members of the other species.” She tried, but she couldn’t keep the sadness and disappointment out of her voice. “Matthew and I – really, everyone in this house now – we’re breaking some pretty big rules and they come with some very nasty consequences.”

His eyes lit up. “Other species? Does that mean werewolves exist too?”

“Absolutely not!” they heard Matthew shout from downstairs.

Diana shook her head. “Sorry, touchy subject. There are daemons, though, but their eyes don’t turn black and they’re not evil either. They just tend to be really brilliant and super creative.” She swallowed nervously, watching him for signs of discomfort or distress. “So you’re really fine with this?” she asked, flashing him a tentative smile. She found herself unable to hide both the hope and fear she felt at finally being fully seen by someone so important to her.

Chris reached over and put a hand on her shoulder. “Diana, you’re my best friend. As long as you’re honest with me, nothing you could ever say would change that.” He laughed, his eyes sparkling with wonder. “Besides, think of all the grant money this could free up! The government spends millions searching for aliens in outer space and it turns out you’ve been here all along.”

Crap. I didn’t consider that particular reaction. “You can’t tell anyone,” she said in a rush before any of the household’s vampires decided to come knock down the door. “Not many humans know about us and it needs to stay that way.”

“They’re bound to find out eventually,” he said with a shrug, but then quickly continued when he noticed the look on her face. “But don’t worry, I won’t say anything.”

Diana nodded, relieved. “Thanks.”

Chris paused, then did a quick double take. “Sorry, I just realized...Did you say time travel earlier? Like Back to the Future? Or Bill and Ted?” He was staring at her again with rapt fascination.

She blushed, remembering her own excitement when she discovered timewalking. I'm surprised he didn't compare me to the Doctor, though Doctor Who might be outside his frame of reference. “Um, sort of? I don’t need a time machine or anything, though it’s not terribly easy to steer. I still don’t have great control, I end up in a lot of places I didn’t intend to visit.”

His eyes looked up at her sharply. “Like?”

“Well...eleventh century Spain? Tudor England? Also, sixth century France a few times and the American Revolution once. I met the Marquis de Lafayette!” It was her favorite thing to tell people since she’d started timewalking. As a historian, the opportunity to meet an actual historical figure like that had been like something out of a dream. Her voice got more confident with each time period she named, then she blushed again. “But mostly I just see Matthew.”

“Wow. Time travel. That’s so cool.” He looked at her speculatively. “Is that why you’re a historian? You can time travel for your research?”

“No!” She scowled at him. Of course not, that would be cheating! she thought furiously.

“No, I imagine not,” he murmured to himself. “How would you even cite it?”

She put her hands on her hips. “I’ve been interested in history for a lot longer than I’ve been able to time travel. This is still a pretty recent thing for me.”

He cocked his head, shooting a bemused half-smile at her annoyance. “How recent?”

“About a year – it’s a long story.” And now isn’t the time to get into it all, she reminded herself. Not with everyone waiting for us downstairs. “And I think Sarah and my mom might all burst in here at any moment if we stay up here much longer. They can’t hear what’s going on the way the vampires can and they’re not exactly known for their patience.”

She gestured for him to follow her, but he stayed put. “And that’s another thing – since when are you talking to your mom?”

She sighed, motioning for him to walk down with her. I really don’t want to do this now. “That’s part of the long story – I promise I’ll tell you everything when we don’t have almost a dozen curious creatures waiting for us downstairs.”

He studied her for a moment, then nodded his agreement. “I’ll hold you to that.” He shook his head, then laughed softly. “I still can’t believe you got married!”

Now it was her turn to look at him incredulously. “I tell you I’ve been literally traveling through time and my getting married is what shocks you?”

“And to the elusive, reclusive Professor Clairmont too! Trust me, honey, it’s way less believable.” He laughed again, louder this time. “Come on, let’s go downstairs.”

She shook her head ruefully and smiled happily back at him. “Fine. I can introduce you to everyone.”

Chris nodded and followed her out of the room. The vampires had congregated at the foot of the stairs and watched as the two of them came down. “Chris, this is Matthew’s best friend, Bertrand Shepherd,” Diana said, gesturing at Bertrand. “The other two are Matthew’s research colleagues, Miriam Shepherd – Bertrand’s wife – and Marcus Whitmore. Everyone, this is my best friend, Chris Roberts. He’s a grad student at Harvard.”

Chris shook each of their hands in turn, a dazed look on his face. “Not the Miriam Shepherd who wrote the classic article about how inbreeding among zoo animals leads to a loss of heterozygosity?” he asked, his voice awed. He looked like he might faint. Time travel doesn’t faze him, but meeting Miriam does? Go figure.

“The same,” Matthew murmured as Miriam preened.

Chris’s eyes went wide, looking at Matthew, Miriam, and Marcus in turn. “Wait a minute. Evolutionary biology, evolutionary physiology, population genetics...you’re trying to diagram evolutionary descent. You’re working on the Tree of Life – and not just the human branches either.”

Matthew, surprised, turned to Diana when she laughed. “What? I told you he was a genius. It’s not my fault you didn’t believe me.”

Diana watched as Chris started hammering the stunned-looking vampires with questions, most of which she couldn’t understand. Eventually she decided it was time to give them a break and introduce him to the rest of their visitors. As she turned around, gesturing for him to follow, she almost missed the speculative look that he gave her and Matthew. I wonder what that was about?

Later that evening, once introductions had been made and everyone had settled into their various nightly routines, Chris approached Diana with a cup of tea and a sheepish expression. “Any chance I could interest you in a walk?”

“Stay in the yard!” they heard Matthew call from the dining room where he and Hamish were attempting to teach Sophie chess. Jeffrey and Em were in the kitchen, providing snacks, and pretending not to be keeping a careful eye on the youngest member of their strange household.

“Is he always like that?” Chris asked as he handed her the still-steaming mug.

“We had a scare a few days ago,” she explained, rolling her eyes theatrically back at him as they walked down the hall and out the front door. “He’s not wrong to be cautious. We were lucky – either one of us could have easily died.”

“Died? Fuck.” He stopped, the light from the porch throwing his features into stark relief. He looked horrified and embarrassed all at once. “I guess you weren’t kidding before, huh?”

She shot him a reassuring smile and shook her head. “No, I’m afraid not.”

“Fuck, Diana, I’m so sorry.” He rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. “Is this why Sarah and Em seemed so weird at Christmas?”

She winced and nodded. “Yeah. Partly. Not a small amount of prejudice and bigotry mixed in too, unfortunately, though they’ve mostly gotten over that by now.”

“How’d you guys even meet, if mixing is so forbidden?” he asked as they stepped away from the porch. “I’m guessing that story you told me about running into each other outside the Bodleian and ‘just hitting it off’ was bogus, right?”

She chuckled and flashed him a mischievous smile. “Well, there was a bit more to it than that, yeah, but I did meet him outside the Bodleian. I just neglected to mention that the first thing he did was hug me like I was a long-lost friend or something.”

“…Hug you?”

She laughed again – harder this time – at the befuddled expression on his face. “Remember when I mentioned the whole time travel thing? And how I’d been visiting him?”

He nodded back at her, eyes getting suddenly wide. “Oh shit, really?”

“Yeah.” She struggled for a moment, trying to figure out how to explain. “Yeah, he recognized me coming out of the library. It turns out Matthew’s known me for most of his life…only that was the first time I’d met him. Scared me half to death at the time.”

“Wow, no kidding.” He shook his head incredulously. “I can’t even imagine how weird that must be.”

She grimaced slightly and nodded. “Considerably less weird now that it’s happened a couple of times, but yeah, it was initially quite the shock.”

“It must have been pretty lonely not to have someone to talk to about that.” You have no idea.

“Yeah,” she admitted, swallowing hard around the lump in her throat. “I’m so sorry about not saying something earlier, Chris. I can’t tell you how close I came to spilling everything last Christmas. I was just scared – I didn’t want to lose you. The creatures thing…it can be a lot. Not everyone understands.”

He pulled her into a reassuring hug, splashing the tea over the rim of the mug slightly, but she was too happy to care. “It’s okay, Diana. Don’t think I haven’t noticed your abandonment issues over the years.” He lifted an eyebrow and shot her a speculative look. “That’s another thing, what’s the deal with your mom? Is it just me or is she being weirdly friendly all of a sudden?”

Her face fell and she moved back slightly. “Yeah. I guess I did promise you the full story on that earlier. And it ties into the whole time travel thing with Matthew too.” She motioned for him to follow as she walked back over to the porch. Once they were both seated and comfortable, she took a deep breath and launched into an explanation of how they all came to be here in Madison together. “So, there’s this asshole named Peter Knox…”

The longer she talked and the further she got into details about the Congregation and creature politics, the more furious his expression became. “Those bastards!” he snarled when she finally finished. “And you never considered just giving in?”

“No. Absolutely not,” she immediately snapped. Why does everyone fucking ask that? She opened her mouth, then closed it again when he saw the approving and bemused expression on his face. She ducked her head, embarrassed by her outburst – he clearly hadn’t intended the judgment that usually went with that particular question. No, it seemed like he simply wanted to know that she was absolutely sure of herself and her feelings. “No. That’s not an option.”

“Good. I’m glad you’re not going to let those bigoted assholes win.” Chris always has been a bit of a social crusader, she thought fondly. It’s nice to know that some things never really change. “And Matthew? He feels the same?” he pressed – though, again, not unkindly.

She shook her head. “He’s even less likely to waver than I am.” She paused and flashed him a nervous smile. “Vampires aren’t like humans…or even witches, really. Once they find their mate – if they find them, apparently many never do – they bond for life. There’s no backing out once that happens. According to Matthew, it literally changes their brain chemistry.”

“I wonder how…” he trailed off and shook his head. “Never mind, I’ll go directly to the source later when I badger them into telling me about their research. Fuck, I’d give a kidney to get a chance to work on this stuff. Hell, not just a kidney – they could take whatever they wanted, so long as I was left alive long enough to complete the project.”

She laughed and he grinned back at her. “Wrong offering. Vampires, remember?”

He sat open mouthed until she began to giggle uncontrollably. “You’re ridiculous, Diana,” he huffed, though his eyes still twinkled with amusement. “So you’re not just his wife, then? You’re his, what…mate?”

She nodded, the laughter dying in her throat. She swallowed, trying to clear the lump forming there as she contemplated life without Matthew. “I am. So, you see: he’d never leave me, not even to save his own skin.” Chris looked relieved, which made her smile again slightly, despite the circumstances. It’s nice that he knows the truth now. She’d never realized what a burden it had been keeping parts of herself hidden from someone so important to her. “Chris, there’s no separating us, we’d both rather die first. We’re in it – both of us – until the end. Though at this point, that probably means days or weeks instead of decades.” She looked down at the now cold mug cupped in her hands.

“Not if I have anything to say about it.” She glanced up and recognized the steely resolve in his expression – when he looked like that, there wasn’t anything he couldn’t do. She finally let herself feel some hope that they might actually see a path through this. Somehow, in spite of all the insane odds, I think this might just turn out alright.

Chapter Text

Madison, New York
October 29, 1999

Unsurprisingly, peace in the overcrowded house only lasted through breakfast the next morning. Given the close quarters and general feelings of unease, it was really only a matter of time before a fight broke out – when it started and who the instigators would be were the only questions, that something would happen was a forgone conclusion to anyone with even the smallest bit of common sense. No, what’s shocking is that neither Sarah nor Miriam are in any way involved – they’re both so prickly and Miriam especially just loves to make trouble. And that it was Hamish, assisted by Bertrand, who’d finally cracked! he thought exasperatedly. He’d have ranked either of them near the bottom of the list of likely instigators, they were usually so even-handed and cool-headed. And the trigger? Matthew’s attempt to hand off control of the Brotherhood to Marcus. Merde, what a mess.

“Everyone out of this room except Matthew, Marcus, Bertrand, and Jeffrey,” Hamish snapped after Matthew had tried to give Marcus the letter promoting him to Grand Master. “Please,” he added a bit more gently when everyone else at the table turned to him with curious or annoyed expressions on their faces.

“Why do we have to leave?” Chris grumbled as he stood, voicing the frustration that everyone who’d been excluded seemed to be feeling.

Hamish studied him for a moment, then nodded. “You’d better stay,” he conceded, gesturing for Chris to take a seat.

Matthew glanced quickly at Rebecca Bishop’s stony face then back at his friend. “Rebecca too,” he insisted, trying to forestall further argument. “She’s got as big a part in this as any of us.” As the rest of the household filed out and settled into the family room to wait, he could hear the dissatisfied rumblings from every creature who’d been forced to leave. Diana’s going to make me pay for this later, even though it wasn’t my idea, he realized with a resigned sigh. She hates being left out of anything.

Hamish glowered at him as they rearranged themselves into a tighter knot at one end of the table. “Matt, we need a coherent plan. You can’t just disappear on Sunday and leave all of this to Marcus.”

Matthew shook his head, shooting Bertrand a plea for backup, which he promptly ignored. Traitor. He let out an annoyed sigh. “We have a plan, Hamish. Marcus starts recruiting for the brotherhood, Rebecca pursues the seat on the Congregation that’s about to become open, and everyone else lies low until Diana and I come home.”

“That’s not a plan, Matt,” Bertrand argued, making Hamish nod along in agreement. “That’s a holding pattern. For one, Marcus is going to need help with recruitment efforts. He’s just one man, no matter how smart or charismatic.”

“Thanks man, I love you too,” Marcus cut in, visibly amused at the back and forth. At least someone thinks this is funny.

Bertrand rolled his eyes, but otherwise ignored the comment. “For another, we need to set up protocols for Rebecca to stay in touch with the Brotherhood, so we can trade information back and forth.” He turned to the witch. “You can’t be seen actively engaging with us or your sister until you’ve secured the seat – perhaps not even then. Right now, you’re protected from suspicion because it’s well known that you and Diana are estranged. It’s crucial you end up on the Congregation and your nomination will almost certainly end up blocked if they think you’re helping her evade capture – or trying to shield her – in any way.”

Matthew started to say something, but stopped at Bertrand’s glare. “Unless you’ve decided to trust Baldwin with this?” he asked pointedly.

“Never,” Matthew bit out. His brother was too invested in protecting the family to be willing to upset the status quo. And Diana is too precious to allow that bastard anywhere near her, he thought, barely suppressing a growl. Baldwin had always been particularly talented at destroying people, with a seemingly endless reach – Matthew couldn’t risk him deciding to kill them off himself to avoid exposing the family to the Congregation’s scrutiny.

“Alright,” Bertrand agreed as he glanced around the room. “I think it’s a mistake, but I understand your reticence. We shouldn’t need to involve him just yet. But in the meantime, we’re going to need an inside source and for that, Rebecca must remain above reproach.”

She nodded, expression thoughtful. “So, what do you suggest? I was going to go back to Africa for a time, so that I’d be able to answer truthfully about where I’d been when Knox and the rest of them ask me later – one witch can’t lie to another witch, so I’ll need to be able to give real flight dates and times. And they will ask.”

Matthew barely suppressed a groan. I don’t know how they do it, unable to lie or keep secrets from one another. He shuddered, imagining what life would be like if he couldn’t lie to other vampires – even within his own family. It explains a lot about the culture of openness between witches, though, and why they abhor secrets so much. It was an aspect of witch society he’d never really understood before finding Diana.

Rebecca sighed, then shrugged. “The good thing, though, is that it makes most witches lazy. Peter is unlikely to actually check up on my story because he’ll be able to sense I’m not lying. But there are ways to hide things while still telling the absolute, technical truth, it just takes some practice and a bit of luck.”

“You’ll be based in Cambridge once you’re back from Africa?” Bertrand asked. He seemed calm, despite the palpable tension in the room. Rebecca nodded in response. “Well then, I suggest we make Chris a member of the Order.”

The room immediately erupted into chaos – nobody seemed to like that plan, except Chris himself. Matthew glowered at his best friend as he motioned for everyone to settle down. They did...eventually. Damn it, if he gets Chris killed, Diana will never forgive either one of us. “Hear me out,” he insisted once the room was quiet. “As a human, nobody will give Chris a second look. And he’s already supposed to be there – he can slip into Rebecca’s office on campus without it raising anyone’s suspicions.”

“He doesn’t have any of the necessary training,” Matthew objected with a huff. “He won’t be able to defend himself if something goes wrong.”

“Getting him the training is simple enough,” Marcus helpfully pointed out, earning him an annoyed look. “We could even go through human intermediaries so he’s not seen around other creatures. We have contacts in the BPD who could recommend the proper instructors.”

“It’s too dangerous –” Matthew tried again, but Bertrand cut him off.

“It’s up to Chris, Matt, not you.” Matthew shot him a furious glare, but he ignored it.

“I want to do it,” Chris said, addressing all three of them. “Diana is my best friend and I promised her I’d help. I’m not going to let her deal with this alone.”

“Okay, I’ll make the necessary arrangements once you’re back at school,” Marcus promised, giving him an encouraging smile.

“What about recruiting interested creatures while I’m there?” Chris asked hopefully. Everyone turned to gape at him. “What? Just because I didn’t know what you all were before doesn’t mean I haven’t noticed that some people are...well, different. More. Special. And there are plenty of people like that at Harvard.”

Marcus shook his head. “No, Bertrand is right. What we need most right now is a discreet way to communicate and coordinate with Rebecca. We can revisit using you to recruit once she’s safely on the Congregation. But Chris isn’t wrong, I am going to need help with recruitment...and I think Jeffrey should consider filling that role.”

Jeffrey had largely stayed silent thus far, watching thoughtfully while the rest of them argued and hashed out the details. He cleared his throat before speaking. “I didn’t intend to become involved when I arrived,” he started, making Marcus’s face fall briefly in disappointment. “But I can’t see that I have much of a choice. My wife and I knew what would happen if the Congregation ever found out about Sophie – once she was born, we kept as low a profile as possible to avoid their notice. We just happened to be lucky that neither of us were anything special, magic-wise, so nobody bothered to check in.”

He glanced at Rebecca, then nodded to himself before continuing. “Our greatest fear was that she’d be hunted, like they’re now doing to Diana,” he admitted soberly, then paused, taking a long, slow breath in. “There but for the grace of God go I...Yes, I’ll help in any way I can. And with luck, my daughter and her children will be able to grow up free of the persecution yours is facing.”

Rebecca swallowed hard and nodded, gratitude evident in every line of her face. “Thank you.”

“What’s your endgame here? The repeal of the covenant? The destruction of the Congregation? The deaths of your enemies? Creatures allowed to live openly in the human world?” Chris asked, looking over at both Rebecca and Matthew. “We’re planning a war here, but what exactly is the goal? Because I haven’t heard it articulated yet and going in without a clear idea of your win conditions is how you end up mired in endless, hopeless conflict. Just look at what happened in Vietnam, not to mention nearly every war in the Middle East for the last fifty years.”

Rebecca glanced sideways at Matthew before she answered. “I essentially want two things: the first is for my daughter to be safe and not have to spend her life in hiding or constantly looking over her shoulder. That now extends to Sophie too.” Chris nodded along, clearly supporting that aim. “The second is for Peter Knox to die a slow, painful death for what he did to my husband and what he planned to do to me. Everything else is negotiable, as far as I’m concerned.”

Matthew looked over and caught Bertrand’s eye after they both saw Chris stiffen – he clearly hadn’t anticipated such a frank discussion of murder taking place at the table. He’s going to need a lot more than basic defensive training to get comfortable with the idea of taking another creature’s life. Even one as repulsive as Peter Knox. Bertrand gave him a brief nod – his objections had been understood as clearly as if they’d been said aloud and his friend would make sure their new recruit was ready when the time came.

Rebecca didn’t falter, despite the undercurrents swirling about the room. Her only acknowledgement that she’d even noticed Chris’s discomfort was the short glance she’d spared him after the two vampires’ silent back-and-forth. “I’d generally prefer that we not expose ourselves to the human world while we’re at it,” she added, still addressing Chris. “But I know that may not be possible, depending on how bad the fighting gets.”

He turned to face Matthew, his face stony after Rebecca’s answer. “And what about you? What do you want?”

Matthew swallowed, considering. “I want the covenant repealed, at least the provisions around segregation of the species. I can see the merits of limiting our involvement in religion or politics, so I can’t say I’d mind keeping parts of it intact. But the important thing to me is that I want to be with Diana and I want her safe – that can’t happen under the current rules.” His face pulled into an involuntary scowl as he remembered La Pierre and the scars marring his wife’s back. “And I want Satu Järvinen to pay for kidnapping and torturing her. I’m open to suggestions on what exactly that means, though.”

Rebecca nodded and flashed him a tentative smile. “I think it should be fairly simple to convince the Congregation not to enforce the segregation provisions, even if we can’t fully repeal them.” He sighed – even accomplishing just that would be a huge relief. “Especially if we can demonstrate that the creatures in question aren’t attracting human attention. That was, after all, the whole reason behind the formation of the Congregation and the adoption of the covenant.”

Chris frowned skeptically and shook his head. “I’m not so sure about that.”

“Explain,” Matthew demanded when everyone turned – expressions ranging from perplexed to incredulous – to look at Chris.

“Think about it for a second – pretend you’ve never heard of the covenant before,” Chris said, gaze flickering between everyone before settling on the vampires at the table. “Historically, what’s usually the overriding concern when racial segregation has been enforced?”

‘Maintaining political power,” Bertrand murmured, looking over at Matthew. He could tell they were both remembering Philippe’s objections to his eldest son’s choice of mate – he’d cared far less about Fernando’s gender than his skin color, especially as it made him unsuited as either a family diplomat or spy. “In my experience, at any rate.”

Hamish frowned and shook his head. “I disagree. Look at South African apartheid…or the slave trade. It’s usually financial in nature – being able to exclude or oppress another group allows those in power to gather wealth more efficiently.”

“No.” Marcus leaned forward slightly, watching Chris closely. “Enforced segregation – not just oppression, but actually keeping people separate – is inherently rooted in racism. They’re essentially anti-miscegenation laws, even when the penalties aren’t explicitly tied to marriage or procreation.”

“Bertrand and I were there,” Matthew pointed out, his eyes narrowing into frustrated slits. “This isn’t supposition – we remember the debates, especially since we were opposed to the entire thing. The covenant was enacted as a direct response to creature overreach during the First Crusade.”

“Are you sure?” Chris said, glancing quickly between Jeffrey and Rebecca before turning back to Matthew. “Marcus was right – racial segregation is almost always about concerns for racial purity. My guess is that this covenant of yours probably came into being because witches were having daemon babies – like Sophie. Keeping humans from noticing you was almost certainly just an excuse. And it was likely championed by whichever group cared most about racial purity.”

Matthew sat, considering, before finally shaking his head. “I don’t see how. If there were concerns about witches and daemon interbreeding, wouldn’t we have heard about it? Moreover, even if the Congregation was worried about that, why would they care about vampires? We don’t reproduce the same way as warmbloods do.”

Chris raised an eyebrow. “And you’re absolutely, one hundred percent sure about that?”

“Positive,” Matthew huffed, looking briefly at Marcus and Bertrand for support. “Trust me, we’d know if it was possible. It’s not. Vampires have been having sex with warmbloods for as long as we’ve existed as a species and not a single one has ever gotten pregnant as a result. My relationship with Diana might be special, but it’s not about to overturn millenia of biology – the Congregation might care about the concentration of power our marriage creates, but that’s it, I promise you.”

Chris didn’t say anything, but his skeptical expression was still firmly in place. “It’s possible that the covenant was partially –” he stressed the word, shooting Bertrand a significant look. He’d been there too, but hadn’t said a word to back Matthew up. “– created out of concern for cross-species reproduction between witches and daemons, that shouldn’t have extended to keeping all three species separate. But I do think there’s something about this whole picture we’re not yet seeing.” Matthew slumped, trying hard not to visibly wilt as the brief moment of hope he’d allowed himself to feel at Rebecca’s comment earlier was now well and truly dashed to pieces. Will we ever be able to win this?

Chris shot him a sympathetic look, but continued pressing for answers. He was like a dog with a bone – something about the line of questioning had clearly piqued his interest and he was just not letting go. “So, do you actually know how vampires, daemons, and witches are related? Because it needs to be pretty damn close, if interbreeding is sometimes possible. What are the crucial genetic differences separating all of us?”

Matthew shook his head. Time to put a stop to this. “This isn’t the time. We can go over my research later – or better yet, ask Miriam once we’re through here. She runs my lab. Right now, we need to focus on next steps. It’s good to know that there might be additional resistance from the witches if we try to have the segregation rules repealed, but ultimately, it doesn’t actually change all that much for us.”

“Doesn’t it?” Marcus asked sharply, cutting in. “If this is really about what Chris thinks, then I should be in the lab back in Oxford, not out recruiting more knights. With you gone, it’s a lot for Miriam to work on by herself. She’ll need help if we want to make any progress.”

“No,” Matthew disagreed, looking to the others for support. “The scientific inquiries could take decades to complete. We need more manpower now.”

Hamish nodded, eyeing both Chris and Marcus. “I agree with Matt. As interesting as that theory is, you won’t be able to pursue it if we’re all dead. Which we will be, if the Congregation catches wind of what we’re up to before we have sufficient allies and resources in place.” Marcus and Chris finally gave in – each nodding dejectedly – when it became clear that everyone else in the room was of a similar mind.

Matthew felt bad – he’d known his son preferred the lab to the battlefield when he suggested their current arrangement, but it hadn’t fully hit him until then just how much Marcus’s life was about to change. He grimaced inwardly in sympathy – he wasn’t particularly fond of war either – but kept it off his face. They didn’t need the distraction. “Good. We have two new knights and a general idea of what everyone’s role will be once Diana and I leave. Next, let’s discuss how we’ll keep the noncombatants in the group safe and then more detailed plans on what each group will pursue and how. Agreed?”

Everyone around the table nodded and he relaxed slightly. It was going to be a long day, he knew, but he was hopeful for the first time since Peter Knox had ambushed them in Oxford. He was finally starting to believe that he might get his happily ever after with Diana after all.

But hope…hope was a dangerous feeling to have. You couldn’t rely on it, not when it was so easily taken away, spoiling each and every dream it had touched. He knew he should be wary, that he wouldn’t survive its loss again, but that’s what made it so deadly – it was almost impossible not to be seduced into believing that maybe, just maybe this time, it would all turn out alright.

It wasn’t until well after dinner that the impromptu war council in the dining room broke up, by which point both Sarah and Diana were ready to set the house on fire. They were both frustrated beyond belief and furious at being excluded from the discussions – no matter how serious the situation, neither woman would ever be comfortable giving up control to anyone else. Matthew, Rebecca, and Em did their best to soothe frayed nerves, but it was clear that the rest of the house needed to be brought up to speed. And quickly.

Miriam surprised everyone – including Diana herself – by having the first outburst of the night once Hamish finished laying out their plan. I thought Sarah would crack first. Or me, perhaps, she reflected sheepishly. At least Miriam could hear what was going on, even if she wasn’t able to participate. The rest of us weren’t so fortunate.

“You can’t keep making warmbloods into knights, Matthew! Especially humans like Chris – how’s he supposed to defend himself against vampires or witches?” Miriam objected, visibly perturbed. Diana smiled. She’d noticed that Miriam had taken a liking to the young scientist, seeming to enjoy his endless questions and obvious hero worship. “It’s bad enough that Hamish is involved – sorry Hamish, no offense – but at least he’s the Ninth Knight and can stay out of any active physical conflict. Chris will have no such protections if he gets involved.” Diana was inclined to agree with Miriam, but was unwilling to put herself in the middle. Besides, Chris would never forgive me if he thought I didn’t have confidence in him. I just hope it doesn’t get him killed.

Hamish inclined his head graciously and Matthew looked skyward for strength, almost out of patience. They were all going to need a cooling off period soon or all hell would break loose. “Miriam, there is a long tradition of having both humans and daemons in the order, as you well know,” he said testily. “Not witches, I’ll grant you, but they’re a lot harder to kill on principle. Besides, Chris isn’t exactly defenseless – and he’s promised to start training once he gets back to Cambridge.”

Miriam huffed, but didn’t press further. The next point of contention did come from Sarah. “What do you mean, genetic samples?” she asked, voice loud and angry after Matthew had explained the need for additional data while they pushed forward their research. Diana had a hard time containing her smirk when she noticed her husband and his best friend wince. “I have no intention of giving anyone access to my blood or hair, I don’t care who you are.”

Matthew sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration. “We need as many specimens as we can get, Sarah,” he repeated, his self-possession visibly fraying with every syllable. “We have some bad data for the witch markers – Diana’s results say she shouldn’t be able to timewalk, for example, but we all know she can. We need to fix that and the only way that’s possible is to get as much concrete, verifiable data as possible with which to compare it.”

Sarah crossed her arms over her chest defensively. “And why does that matter in the slightest? I don’t care about your little research project,” she insisted doggedly. Diana worked to stifle a frustrated sigh. I don’t see what the big deal is, she thought, trying to keep from glowering at her aunt. I gave them my sample a year ago! Besides, what does she think he’s going to do with it? Eat it? “Science can’t explain everything. Besides, why does it even matter if your report on Diana’s abilities is wrong?”

Diana opened her mouth to intervene, but it was her mother who shut the conversation down. “We’re all doing it,” she said with an air of total authority. Sarah looked ready to argue the point, but Rebecca quelled the impending outburst with a look. “It’s important – I wouldn’t insist if it weren’t, you know I wouldn’t. So please just do it, Sarah. No more debate.”

The ring of power behind her words effectively ended all resistance. They all lined up for saliva swabs, blood tests, and hair samples without complaint after that. I’ve never seen Sarah fold like that. But why did Mom care so much? I know she thinks her own research is super important, but why does she care so much about Matthew’s?

Chapter Text

Madison, New York
October 30, 1999

Saturday dawned bright and early, much to Diana’s chagrin. She felt a bit churlish for how irritated she’d found herself – reconnecting with her mom, getting to see Chris after so long apart, the relief at finally being able to tell him the whole truth…she knew she should count her blessings and accept with gratitude the challenges of having them all under the same roof. But honestly? The escalating disputes and constant activity caused by stuffing eleven people into their only moderately-sized house were getting tiresome. It was time for everyone to begin scattering – they’d be at each other’s throats if they all stayed put much longer.

Frankly, she couldn’t wait until she and Matthew were able to spend some time alone again, even if they had to travel several centuries into the past to get it. She desperately missed the privacy they’d enjoyed in France. And Oxford…Oxford felt like little more than a long ago dream. She longed for the quiet normality of their weekends at the Old Lodge or the evenings spent cuddled up on the tattered couch in her rooms at New College. She positively ached for Amira’s yoga classes and the easy companionship she’d found there, for the serenity of the Bodleian Library, and for the joy of falling asleep every night with no greater worry than selecting a topic for her next paper. Bliss. Absolute, perfect bliss, she sighed, remembering all the cozy nights they’d spent curled up under a blanket together while he read or she prepared for class the next day.

Jeffrey and the daemons were planning on leaving not long after breakfast, so that Hamish could accompany Sophie to Sept-Tours. Jeffrey had resisted letting her out of his sight at first, but eventually conceded that she’d be safer with Ysabeau and Marthe to guard her while he was out recruiting other witches on their behalf. They were all understandably worried for the girl, given the Congregation’s behavior towards Diana, and none of them were comfortable with the idea of leaving her so exposed. A daemon and a witch traveling together – she was far too young to be left at home by herself, even under the supervision of Jeffrey’s local coven – were bound to attract notice, especially if other creatures realized they were father and daughter. Two daemons, on the other hand, shouldn’t arouse suspicions, even if they weren’t related. Vampires and witches often acted like daemons were beneath their notice, so Hamish had jumped on the opportunity to use their prejudices against them.

“Besides, she’ll get lots of opportunities to practice her foreign languages,” Matthew had pointed out during the discussion. “And the libraries at the chateau are well stocked. She shouldn’t fall behind in school, not with Ysabeau and Emily as tutors. And the distraction should help keep Maman from worrying too much while we’re gone.” Diana chuckled to herself at Matthew’s attempt to use logic in the face of parental concern. I don’t think Sophie’s schooling is what’s bothering him, she thought to herself with a snort, nor is there anything that will keep Ysabeau from worrying. But it’s sweet that he’s trying.

The second delay in seeing everyone off came from Hamish, to Diana’s surprise. “You can’t leave tomorrow without deciding what to do about your will,” he insisted, fixing her with the kind of no-nonsense look designed to make any opposition shrivel up and die. Or so she supposed. “And I can’t leave today until I have your signature on all the relevant documents.”

Diana looked at him, then Matthew with confusion. “What will?” she asked with a laugh. “It’s not like I have any assets. I’m a grad student! I don’t even own a car.”

“Really Matt? You kept this from her, of all things?” Hamish huffed, glaring at Matthew in visible irritation.

Matthew glanced at them both sheepishly for a moment, then picked up a few documents from Hamish’s pile. “That’s not strictly true, mon coeur,” he admitted with an apologetic grimace. “I had Hamish draw up the modern version of a marriage contract when I finally found you in Oxford last year. It settled half my assets – bank accounts, real estate, cars, boats, planes – on you irrevocably. Even if you’d decided you wanted nothing to do with me, I wouldn’t have been able to take it back.”

Diana was stunned. She leafed through the documents, her mind racing. Both the house in London and the Old Lodge are in here? She looked back up at him, mouth agape. “I can’t accept this,” she said when she could finally speak. “And I don’t want it. I have no desire for this kind of wealth – it’s more than I can imagine ever owning. I don’t want the responsibility.”

Matthew shook his head. “It’s yours, regardless. Hold onto it, give it all away – it’s up to you. But it was important to me that you be provided for, no matter what,” he said with a swallow, looking embarrassed. “I meant it when I was nothing but a simple carpenter...and I mean it now too.”

After a few more minutes of arguing back and forth, she finally accepted, albeit grudgingly, and gave Hamish a brief outline of how she wanted things structured. He better believe this isn’t over yet – I fully intend to have a much longer conversation about this once we’re alone. I am not a damsel in distress nor am I a helpless naif who needs to be managed, she thought resentfully. These kinds of high-handed tactics are both completely unacceptable and totally unnecessary. What happened to us being partners in this?

October 31, 1999

Watching Diana hug her mother and Chris goodbye the next morning made Matthew’s heart clench in sympathy. He knew how much she’d longed for her mother’s attention and approval, so to finally get it only to be separated again...she was having a tough time of it.

“I love you, Diana,” Rebecca said as she kissed her daughter’s forehead, tears streaming freely down her face. “Your father would be so proud of you – just like I am. Learn all you can and come home. I’ll do everything I can to make it safe for you here while you’re gone.” Diana nodded, tears welling in her eyes too. She’s trying so hard to put on a brave face, it makes me want to wrap her in a hug and never let her go, he reflected as they watched the car disappear into the distance. Chris would be dropping Rebecca at the airport on his way back to Cambridge, so they’d had to make an earlier start than any of them had wanted. Too many goodbyes.

Miriam and Bertrand were the next to leave. “Safe travels, my friend. We’ll keep the light on for you until you return,” Bertrand promised once they’d finished loading up the car with all the samples they’d taken on Friday night. The two of them were headed back to Oxford so she could continue working through the mystery of Sophie’s existence – and the continuing issues they were having with the witches’ genetic markers – while Matthew and Marcus were unavailable.

Miriam was conspicuously absent during her husband’s farewells, only appearing once they were almost ready to leave. She’s always hated goodbyes, Matthew remembered with a small chuckle as he watched her settle herself into the passenger seat. “Give us a moment?” he asked Marcus, who promptly winked and sped off – presumably to do another check of the property line while they talked. Diana stood on the porch, watching the proceedings with a small frown. Matthew walked over and crouched down, positioning himself so that she wouldn’t have a clear line of sight while he passed Miriam one final sample bag from inside his pocket. He kept his voice low and neutral. “Diana came back from one of her jumps this summer with a blanket I used to own when I was still human. I managed to collect some hair from it that looks like it still has the follicles intact. I thought it might help with our other project.”

Her eyes widened fractionally, then she nodded before quickly slipping the bag into her own pocket. He closed her door, rounding over to where Bertrand was standing on the other side of the car. “Good luck, Matt,” he murmured quietly as they hugged goodbye. “I’ll take care of them while you’re gone. Just promise me you’ll make it back in one piece, alright?”

Matthew nodded, then stood there motionless, watching the two of them pull away. It wasn’t until he felt Diana’s hand on his arm that he looked down, then back at her. “I’m going to miss everyone, no matter how crowded it’s felt this last week,” she whispered, tucking herself into the crook of his arm as Marcus came back into view with a jaunty wave.

He kissed the top of her head, then closed his eyes briefly as he took a long, steadying breath. “Me too,” he confessed, turning to watch as his son approached.

“I’m staying until you’re all safely away,” Marcus had promised the night before. “I’ll patrol the property to give you some privacy once Sarah and Em leave for their party, but I have no intention of leaving until I know everyone is safe. Taking care of you will be my responsibility – starting tomorrow, anyway.” He’d given them a lopsided grin that belied his obvious, though unspoken, nerves at his new position. I didn’t want it either and never really felt up to the task, Matthew reflected with a bittersweet smile, but my father believed in me. Now it’s his turn and I likewise have every confidence in him.

Shortly before sundown, Diana’s aunts said their goodbyes. They hugged and kissed her, prolonging the moment as long as possible. “We’re both so very proud of you.” Emily cupped Diana’s face in her hands – trying and failing not to cry. After a minute, she wiped at her cheeks and gave them both a wavering smile. “Take care of each other.”

Diana gave her aunt another giant hug. “We will,” she promised quietly. Matthew nodded his assent. Always, he vowed silently. Always and always.

Once Emily was done, Sarah took Diana’s hands in hers and flashed her a sardonic smile. “Listen to your teachers – whoever they are. Don’t say no without hearing them out first.”

Diana gave a reflexive laugh and nodded. “I’ll try,” she said, infusing the words with the slightest hint of irony. That’s my girl.

Sarah laughed with her for a moment before turning serious again. “You’ve got more natural talent than any witch I’ve ever seen – and that includes your mother too, by the way. Maybe more than any witch who’s lived for many, many years. I’m glad you’re not going to waste it. Don’t forget: magic is a gift, Diana, just like love. Nurture it, cherish it, and – most of all – don’t be afraid of it.”

Diana nodded, too choked up to speak as tears began streaming down her face. Sarah looked over at Matthew next. “I’m trusting you with something precious,” she warned him with an outstretched finger. “Do not disappoint me.”

“I won’t, Sarah,” he promised, nodding solemnly. I’ll do whatever it takes, he swore to himself as he watched them get into the car and drive off. They were headed to the coven’s Halloween party that evening to allay any suspicions and would leave on a roadtrip the next morning with some friends from out of town – but instead of returning home at the end, they’d make their way to Sept-Tours to wait with Sophie and Hamish. Madison was no longer safe – Juliette’s attack had proven that. Rebecca was terrified that Gebert or Knox would grab them to try and force Diana out of hiding. Better that they stay with Ysabeau…though I do wish I wasn’t going to miss her introduction to Sarah. I bet they’ll be able to see the fireworks all the way in Venice. Maybe Bertrand will give me the play by play later, if I ask nicely.

“Last one left,” Marcus observed once the car was out of sight.

“Walk with me?” He had some things he needed to say to his son – just the two of them. Diana gave him an encouraging smile and went back inside as he and Marcus walked down to the tree line. “I wanted to thank you before we left. It’s dangerous, what we’re planning on doing, no matter how many reassurances Diana tried to give her aunts. We may never come back, so it was important that I didn’t leave certain things unsaid before I go.”

“Matthew –” Marcus started to protest, but his father cut him off.

“Let’s not pretend. This is a big risk that we’re taking, but it’s the only move we have left.” He paused, letting his son process the words before he continued. I need him to hear this. Truly hear and understand that I might never come home, even if Diana does. “I haven’t been the best father to you over the years.”

Marcus started to protest again – albeit much more weakly – but Matthew cut him off with a look. “There’s no point in denying it. Hell, you already admitted as much last week. I’m not saying anything we both don't already know is true.” He stopped walking, looking back at the Bishop house. He was still close enough that he could hear everything happening inside – Diana was tidying up the kitchen, preparing for the family’s long absence. “I need you to know it wasn’t due to any…deficiencies on your part. The deficiencies were – are, have always been – mine and mine alone. I don’t know how many of my memories you saw when I made you…”

He glanced at his son. Marcus was frowning – they’d never discussed the things that he must have seen. He’d never asked, no matter how curious he must have been. “Not much that I remember, honestly,” he admitted, then turned to study the house, like his father. “I was so sick. What little I do recall is mostly all Diana.”

Matthew nodded, swallowing hard. He could very well believe that Marcus had been flooded by images of Diana during his rebirth – she’d occupied most of Matthew’s waking thoughts for most of his life. “I’ve been seeing her since I was a small child. And I’ve loved her for nearly as long.” He coughed, trying to clear the sudden thickness in his throat. “I didn’t make children as a young vampire, the way you did. It wasn’t from lack of want – I desire family, pack, as much as any of us. It was out of fear. But I wasn’t considering your needs, your feelings, in keeping myself so aloof. Only my own.”

“Fear of what?” Marcus asked, frowning in confusion. Matthew could understand – he’d never confided in his son like this before, especially not about his early life. He hadn’t been willing to let himself be vulnerable. But I can’t leave without him knowing just how much he means to me. No matter how much it hurts to share.

“Loss. I knew what it was to lose a child.” He barely managed to choke out the words, causing his son to look at him in alarm. “I didn’t want to let someone into my heart only to lose them again. And, with them, a piece of my own soul. I didn’t think I’d survive it a second time.”

They stood there in silence for what felt like an eternity before Marcus asked the next logical question. “So why me?”

Matthew shook his head. “I could give you all the rationalizations I came up with after the fact when I needed to explain myself to Philippe, but the answer is that I don’t really know, even after all these years to reflect on my actions,” he confessed, looking everywhere – anywhere – except his son’s face. “I just couldn’t bear the idea of letting you die, not if I could save you. And not a day goes by when I’m not glad I made the choice I did.”

“Even after New Orleans?” The tone was teasing, but Matthew could hear a world of pain behind the words. Oh, my son, New Orleans was never your fault. It was always mine and only mine. But he didn’t – couldn’t – say that aloud. Some secrets needed to remain buried, no matter how old.

“No,” he said definitively, finally looking at Marcus’s face. “Not even New Orleans could make me regret being your father. I love you – I just wish I’d done more to show it over the years. It’s only been recently that I’ve begun to realize how badly I erred. You deserved more from me. I’m so sorry.”

The both looked away, embarrassed by the uncharacteristic show of emotion, until Matthew put a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Let’s go back to the house. Diana will want to say goodbye too – she’s quite fond of you, you know.”

Marcus looked up at him with a crooked grin. “Well, I’m very fond of her too,” he admitted as they walked slowly back across the lawn. “Best thing that’s happened to this family in centuries, no matter what Baldwin says.”

Matthew snorted. He didn’t relish his son’s job once they were gone – and his damned step-brother brother wasn’t going to make it any easier. But he had confidence that Marcus could handle it, if anyone could. “You won’t hear any disagreement from me on that score.”

She’d clearly been keeping an eye on their progress and met them out on the porch. Matthew turned to his son and presented him with an envelope. “Take it,” he rasped, voice gruff with suppressed emotion.

“I never wanted to be grand master,” Marcus said, staring at the envelope, but making no move to accept it.

Matthew gave a hoarse laugh. “You think I did? This was my father’s dream, not mine. But Philippe made me promise the Brotherhood wouldn’t fall into Baldwin’s hands and I can’t guarantee that unless I appoint someone else before I go. And I don’t trust anyone else with the job. So I’m asking you to do the same.”

Marcus nodded as he took the envelope, staring at the pool of wax sealing it closed. “I promise. But I wish you didn’t have to go. Both of you.” He smiled at Diana, despite the sadness in his eyes. Matthew’s heart gave a small squeeze – it meant a lot to him that his son had willingly accepted her into the family. None of Philippe’s children had been nearly so welcoming of Ysabeau.

“I’m so sorry, Marcus,” she said, choking up slightly. She put her hand on his arm and gave a small squeeze.

“For what?” he asked, his smile becoming as bright as the sun. “For making my father happy? Never apologize for that.”

She shook her head. “For putting you in this position and leaving behind such a mess.”

“I’m not afraid of war, if that’s what you mean,” Marcus responded with a lopsided grin. “It’s following along in Matthew’s wake that worries me.”

“Don’t be,” Matthew protested. “You’re going to be brilliant at it.”

Marcus gave his father a single nod, then cracked the seal on the envelope. It’s done.

Matthew bowed his head in respect. “Je suis à votre commande, seigneur.” His son’s eyes were glassy when he looked up. I know you’ll make me proud.

“Then I command you to return and take back the Knights of Lazarus, before I make a complete hash of things,” Marcus said roughly. “I’ll say my goodbyes now and let the two of you have some time alone together. I’ll stay on the property until Sarah and Em leave tomorrow, but I’ll be out of earshot until you leave.”

Matthew nodded, unable to speak, as they clasped arms in goodbye. Once Marcus was gone, Diana put her hand on his shoulder, lending him her support. He reached up and took her hand in his before placing a gentle kiss in her palm. He took a deep breath, letting her scent wash over him, giving him peace. We’ll be back.

Chapter Text

Madison, New York
October 31, 1999

Diana allowed Matthew to lead her inside, the two of them finally alone after months of cramped quarters and minimal privacy. But he knew that this was only the calm before the storm, that they’d be rushing headlong into a whole new set of challenges before the night was through. He forced himself to smile. He had no intention of ruining their remaining time by prematurely invoking the specter of their departure.

“You should take advantage of indoor plumbing while you have it,” he teased, giving her a playful kiss across the knuckles. “Where we’re going, you’ll cheerfully commit murder for the opportunity of a hot bath. Once you’re done, we can go into town and pick up some food before the hoards of children descend on us for candy.”

Diana nodded solemnly and turned to make her way upstairs. She paused halfway up to the landing and looked back at him. “Thank you. I couldn’t do this without you,” she said, swallowing hard. He’d hoped to take her mind off the upcoming jump, but she still seemed preoccupied. He cleared his own throat to respond, but she suddenly bolted up the rest of the stairs and disappeared around the bend in the staircase before he could open his mouth to speak.

He waited there for a moment, head cocked, listening to the sounds of his wife getting undressed and turning on the tap, before he finally shook himself and turned toward the living room. He busied himself, helping get the house tidied and everything squared away, as he heard her slip into the bath upstairs. He could smell the bright citrus scent she’d added to the water from everywhere in the house, the warmth spreading it – along with Diana herself – far and wide. It was both comforting and arousing to be so enveloped and he found himself daydreaming about the feeling of her skin, the smell of her hair, the way she sounded when he touched her in just the right place.

Dieu, these trousers are too tight, Matthew thought as he struggled to breathe. The flip side to a vampire’s incredible senses was the tendency to get overwhelmed by them. And the overpowering smell of Diana in all corners of the house had him practically on his knees. I will control myself, he resolved, barely stopping himself from cracking the edge of the table in his fierce grip. This is her last night here, she deserves all the comforts she can get before she’s no longer able to enjoy them.

His self-control continued to be tested as the scent of her arousal began to permeate the house, mixing with the bergamot of her bath salts and the honeysuckle and chamomile that was undeniably her. A small moan – so quiet a warmblood would have strained to hear it, even in the room with her – hit him like a bolt of lightning and he found himself standing outside the bathroom before he’d even registered the desire to move his feet. She’d left the door cracked open and he could see her soft skin glistening in the water from where he stood, her eyes closed in pleasure. Her nipples were hard and pointed and one hand moved down by the apex of her thighs, circling and stroking.

Matthew was completely mesmerized – unable to look away or move, no matter how badly he felt about intruding on his wife’s privacy. He found himself absently fondling his erection, unbearably hard and heavy, through his trousers. He watched, her scent in his nose and the sound of her heart thudding in his ears overwhelming all rational thought, as he rubbed himself up and down. Just as he started contemplating unzipping his fly and taking himself well and truly in hand, he saw her smile and then open her eyes, looking straight at him. I must look like a complete lecher, standing here with my hand on my cock, he realized, but found he didn’t have it in him to care.

She continued to look right back at him, eyes hooded with arousal. “I could feel you staring at me here in the bath,” she said with a small grin. “How long were you planning to watch before you came in?”

He gave a small growl, grabbed a towel, then went right up to the edge of the tub. He could tell from her surprised expression that he’d forgotten to move at a speed warmbloods found comfortable, but he couldn’t care less. He wanted…no, he needed her. Now. She stood up slowly, water running down her body, and accepted the towel from his outstretched hand. He felt his brain stutter as she tossed the towel aside and stepped out of the bath, naked and soaking.

He bent down to kiss her and just about died when he felt her hands on the clasp of his trousers, undoing them so she could reach her hand inside and touch his aching cock. “Diana...Christ,” he gasped as he rested his forehead against hers. The heat of her body after the bath felt like heaven and all he wanted to do was take her back to their bedroom and fuck her hard, burying himself inside her warm, wet depths. Patience, he reminded himself. It’s been so long since you’ve had any privacy. You don’t want this to be over before you’ve had a chance to enjoy it.

He lifted her onto the counter next to the sink, then sank to his knees, kissing and nipping the insides of her thighs. He could hear her heart speed up in anticipation, could feel her fingers tangle in his hair as she arched against him. Finally, he moved his mouth up to her warm sex, losing himself in the taste and smell of her. “Matthew,” she panted as one of his hands wandered up to fondle her breast, tracing where he knew the scar over her heart vein to be.

He glanced up at her face and found her bright blue eyes staring back at him, her lips slightly parted and her throat working like she couldn’t manage the control to speak or swallow. It was one of the most erotic things he’d ever seen. She closed her eyes and arched her back as he felt her begin to tense and spasm. “Oh god, Matthew, I can’t,” she keened, her pulse racing in his ears. He fastened his mouth to her and sucked, sending her over the edge with a shout, her thighs clenching around his ears as he tasted her release.

He stood up, placing himself between her legs and kissed her with all the longing and frustration of the last two months. The wolf inside him howled its approval as he grabbed her hair and began nuzzling her neck. He felt her hands push his underwear aside and grab his swollen cock, her delicate fist closing around its red and weeping tip.

She stroked him up and down, up and down, up and down until he roughly grabbed her hand and pinned it to her side. “You’ll make me spill,” he growled, lips and teeth against her throat. He felt her heart skip a beat and smelled a fresh wave of arousal begin to come off of her in waves. He chuckled. “You like it when I lose control, don’t you?”

He rocked himself against her, letting the slippery wetness leaking from between her thighs coat his length. She gasped and nodded breathlessly, her lungs heaving and skin flushed. “Tell me, Diana…tell me what you want.”

He felt her heels dig into the back of his legs as she tried to pull him closer. He kept himself just out of reach, only occasionally allowing the tip to graze across her sensitive, swollen clit. He placed a light, teasing kiss on her neck, then leaned in slightly to whisper in her ear. “Come now,” he purred, relishing the shiver he felt run down her spine. “You’ll need to ask for what you want, Diana, or else we’ll stand here for hours while I drive you mad.”

“Inside me,” she whimpered, the words coming out in a rush. “I need you inside me, Matthew. Please.”

He smiled and kissed her hard on the mouth, swallowing her cry as he entered her in a single, sharp thrust. The feeling of her gripping him from base to tip was almost enough to override any lingering sense of self control. “God, you feel amazing,” he groaned, his fingers digging into her hips and thighs. “Being inside you, feeling the way your body responds to mine as you come undone…Christ, Diana, it’s practically a religious experience. Transcendent. Perfect.” He knew he was babbling, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. He’d lost all filter between his brain and his tongue.

He heard her breath catch and felt her hips arch into him as the first tremors of her release began to overtake them both. He buried himself as deep inside her as he could, trying desperately to resist the inexorable pull as she shattered around him. “Dieu,” he groaned, his hips spasming as she milked him dry. His forehead rested against her shoulder as he slumped into her, only barely keeping them both from falling. He raised his head and looked down, admiring the look of her beneath him, still joined, once he found the strength to stand unaided.

Once her breathing evened out, Diana shifted slightly to kiss him, dislodging him from between her thighs, and then smiled against his mouth. “So where else were you planning to have me?” she asked flirtatiously, a hand reaching down to fondle his spent cock. “Because I’ve had some rather persistent fantasies lately of you taking me from behind down in the kitchen that I was thinking we could explore.”

He felt his cock twitch and begin to harden again, Diana’s fingers and the mental image her words evoked working him up into a fresh frenzy. “Anything,” he promised with a growl. “Christ...anything you want.”

Diana carefully savored everything about her last night in the twentieth century – she’d had the longest, most luxurious bath she’d ever experienced, which had led to some monumentally amazing sex when Matthew came up and found her aroused in the water. They’d eaten pizza – well, she’d eaten pizza while Matthew had watched, smiling – until she was almost sick. They’d dressed up and distributed candy to all the kids in the neighborhood, which had made her heart clench with the reminder of how they’d spent their last Halloween. He first kissed me a year ago, she remembered, after volunteering together at the John Radcliffe. That night was one she’d never forget. Not only because of the kiss – though it was a great kiss – but also because it was the first time he’d ever trusted himself to be vulnerable in her presence. All their previous interactions had been so careful and he’d finally shown her some of the sorrow lurking beneath his surface. She treasured that memory because that was when their relationship truly began, at least for her.

Noticing her distraction, Matthew nuzzled her neck and gave her a kiss. “Now that we’ve finished all of our commitments for the evening, you should take one last scaldingly hot shower before we get ready to go,” he suggested, whispering against the skin of her neck. “It’ll be a long time before you feel truly clean again, I’m sorry to say.”

“You’re just trying to get me naked again,” she teased, laughing fondly. “Was I insufficiently diligent in my attentions earlier?” She arched a sardonic eyebrow at him, making him grin back at her in response.

“As lovely as the idea of you naked and under me again is...no, that’s not why I’m suggesting it.” He gave her a long kiss before his face turned sober. “I just don’t want you to have any regrets when we get where we’re going.”

“Alright,” she agreed with a nod. “I’ll take one last shower, then we can get dressed and you can tell me where we’re going.”

Her mind was a whirl as she went through the motions of getting undressed, turning on the tap, and getting in the shower. As the water streamed down her hair and body, she couldn’t help but think of everything that had happened since the end of last term. She traced the scars left on her skin – the ragged line on her inner elbow from Juliette’s attack and the brand on her back from La Pierre – over and over until the water ran cold. Once done, she toweled off and wrapped a long robe around herself. There’s no point in getting dressed, since I’m going to have to change to timewalk, she realized, discarding the dirty clothes in a laundry basket by the door. Marthe had sent some basic garments so they’d fit in better once they arrived – her mother had warned her about deliberately bringing modern things into the past and so they’d decided not to risk jumping in their twentieth century garb.

Diana wandered into their bedroom and found Matthew standing in a long, white linen shirt. It was the kind of garment that wouldn’t have been out of place for most of the centuries in which he’d lived – though not for the better part of the last hundred and fifty years. He handed her a long linen smock in a similarly simple style and grimaced. “I’m sorry, Marthe had to make them by hand and she didn’t have much time. They’re not fancy, but at least we won’t shock whomever we first meet.”

She gave him an amused look. “Oh, I’m sure we’ll shock them – with the informality, at least” she said with a laugh. “Matthew de Clermont and his wife showing up in such deshabille? The shame will follow me for centuries.”

Matthew snorted. “Well, even if they think so, they’re unlikely to say it...to me at least,” he admitted wryly. “But my father will likely get a full report.” His eyes took on the shadowed look they always did whenever Philippe was mentioned. She gave him arm a reassuring squeeze and changed into the smock.

“So, are you going to tell me where we’re going now?” she asked playfully, trying to pull him out of his melancholy. “I have to say, the prospect of knowing when and where I’m going ahead of time is positively thrilling in its novelty. And you’ll be there with me the whole time, I won’t have to go searching.”

He caught her hand and kissed it. “Always,” he promised.

She smiled warmly, but then put her hands on her hips, resuming her teasing stance. “So?” she asked. “Where are we going?”

He handed her a small book, bound in sturdy black leather. “Open it,” he said, looking anxious.

She nodded slowly, then ran her hands over the pages. The front cover creaked open and she saw a short dedication on the first page written in thick black ink. “To my own sweet Matt,” it read. “Who ever loved, that loved not at first sight?”

She looked up at him, cocking her head. “Shakespeare?” The dedication felt familiar, recalling her freshman year at Harvard in the Drama department. She’d always loved poetry and the theater, which had been the primary reason she’d first considered the major.

Matthew shook his head. “Not originally, no,” he replied, voice still tense.

Diana slowly turned the page – it wasn’t a printed book, but a manuscript written in the same hand as the inscription. “Settle thy studies, Faustus, and begin,” she read silently before snapping it shut. “Jesus,” she gasped, hands shaking.

“He’ll laugh like a fool when he hears that was your reaction,” Matthew chuckled, a crooked smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “And I did promise to introduce you to any historical figures you wanted, provided you showed up in the right time. Will Kit Marlowe, Thomas Harriot, Sir Walter Raleigh, and Henry Percy, Earl of Northumberland do?” He had a mischievous gleam in his eye.

She gaped at him. “Matthew...” she said slowly. “Just who are you where we’re going? I’m assuming it’s been too much time for you to still be calling yourself Sebastien St. Clair?”

He grinned at her, then bowed. “Matthew Roydon, at your service,” he said with a wink. “And yes, 1590 is several decades after the last time I used St. Clair, though the queen never got out of the habit of calling me Sebastien when I saw her at court, especially when she was feeling particularly nostalgic.”

“Roydon?” she asked incredulously. “No…you’re Matthew Roydon? The School of Night’s Matthew Roydon?”

He laughed, his grin widening with each question. “The one and only.”

Diana’s mind raced, trying to remember everything she’d read about the shadowy group and its members. How did Lord Byron’s lover describe him? ‘Mad, bad, and dangerous to know’? She might as well have been talking about Matthew’s little group, she thought, still stunned by the revelation. Confidant of the queen or no, he and his friends sneered at her court and recklessly flaunted their heretical opinions. Oh…the queen. She turned to him, eyes wide in excitement. “Does this mean I can meet Queen Elizabeth too?”

Matthew shuddered. “Absolutely not,” he said, hugging her close. “The mere thought of what you might say to Elizabeth Tudor – and she to you – makes my heart falter. She eats courtiers for breakfast. She may not be the monster her father was, but she’s by no means safe.”

Diana pursed her lips in displeasure. We’ll see about that, she resolved. She started to ask another question, but he distracted her with a small velvet bag he pulled out of the same place where he’d found their clothes. “What’s that?”

He withdrew a ring and passed it to her. “Ysabeau thought you should have a wedding ring,” he replied as he showed it to her. It was beautiful and in an ancient style Diana didn’t recognize. “It was an anniversary present to her from my father. I’m honestly surprised she was willing to part with it, even for you. May I?”

She nodded silently, overcome with emotion. He held her left hand and gently slid the ring on her finger before kissing in gently. “I’m sorry,” he said, voice hoarse. “I had hoped to wait to give you a ring until we could be officially married and not just mated, but for your safety…”

She kissed him, interrupting him before he could fall back into his familiar frustrated brooding. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect. I don’t need anything more to consider myself your wife,” she whispered against his lips. “So no more apologies.”

He nodded, unable to speak, and watched while she gathered the earring and chess piece. “So, we’re going to England in 1590. Where precisely were you when all these items were last together? London?”

He shook his head. “No, we were all gathered at the Old Lodge for the Catholic holidays of All Saints and All Souls.” The Old Lodge, she thought with a smile, it’ll be good to go back there. Like going home.

She nodded absently for a moment, trying to clear her head, then took his hand and closed her eyes. “Describe it to me. What will it smell like? Sound like? Look like?” As he spoke, cataloging the homely details of their destination, she let the images wash over her one by one. When she was finally ready, she had him lift his leg and then began the countdown they’d practiced so many times before.

“Three.” A whiff of lavender caught in her nose.

“Two.” The scent of beeswax seemed to fill the room.

“One.” She felt the warmth of an unseen fire as they both lowered their raised feet to the floor. And then they were gone.