A Discovery of Witches - Deborah Harkness [154]
“Stop it,” I said sharply. His scare tactics had gone on long enough.
Matthew dropped me abruptly on the soft carpet. By the time I felt the impact, the vampire was across the room, his back to me and his head bowed.
I stared at the pattern on the rug beneath my hands and knees.
A swirl of colors, too many to distinguish, moved before my eyes.
They were leaves dancing against the sky—green, brown, blue, gold.
“It’s your mom and dad,” Sarah was explaining, her voice tight. “They’ve been killed. They’re gone, honey.”
I dragged my eyes from the carpet to the vampire standing with his back to me.
“No.” I shook my head.
“What is it, Diana?” Matthew turned, concern momentarily pushing the predator away.
The swirl of colors captured my attention again—green, brown, blue, gold. They were leaves, caught in an eddy on a pool of water, falling onto the ground around my hands. A bow, curved and polished, rested next to a scattering of arrows and a half-empty quiver.
I reached for the bow and felt the taut string cut into my flesh.
“Matthew,” Ysabeau warned, sniffing the air delicately.
“I know, I can smell it, too,” he said grimly.
He’s yours, a strange voice whispered. You mustn’t let him go.
“I know,” I murmured impatiently.
“What do you know, Diana?” Matthew took a step toward me.
Marthe shot to my side. “Leave her,” she hissed. “The child is not in this world.”
I was nowhere, caught between the terrible ache of losing my parents and the certain knowledge that soon Matthew, too, would be gone.
Be careful, the strange voice warned.
“It’s too late for that.” I raised my hand from the floor and smashed it into the bow, snapping it in two. “Much too late.”
“What’s too late?” Matthew asked.
“I’ve fallen in love with you.”
“You can’t have,” he said numbly. The room was utterly silent, except for the crackling of the fire. “It’s too soon.”
“Why do vampires have such a strange attitude toward time?” I mused aloud, still caught in a bewildering mix of past and present. The word “love” had sent feelings of possessiveness through me, however, drawing me to the here and now. “Witches don’t have centuries to fall in love. We do it quickly. Sarah says my mother fell in love with my father the moment she saw him. I’ve loved you since I decided not to hit you with an oar on the City of Oxford’s dock.” The blood in my veins began to hum. Marthe looked startled, suggesting she could hear it, too.
“You don’t understand.” It sounded as if Matthew, like the bow, might snap in two.
“I do. The Congregation will try to stop me, but they won’t tell me who to love.” When my parents were taken from me, I was a child with no options and did what people told me. I was an adult now, and I was going to fight for Matthew.
“Domenico’s overtures are nothing compared to what you can expect from Peter Knox. What happened today was an attempt at rapprochement, a diplomatic mission. You aren’t ready to face the Congregation, Diana, no matter what you think. And if you did stand up to them, what then? Bringing these old animosities to the surface could spin out of control, expose us to humans. Your family might suffer.” Matthew’s words were brutal, meant to make me stop and reconsider. But nothing he said outweighed what I felt for him.
“I love you, and I’m not going to stop.” Of this, too, I was certain.
“You are not in love with me.”
“I decide who I love, and how, and when. Stop telling me what to do, Matthew. My ideas about vampires may be romantic, but your attitudes toward women need a major overhaul.”
Before he could respond, his phone began to hop across the ottoman. He swore an oath in Occitan that must have been truly awe-inspiring, because even Marthe looked shocked. He reached down and snagged the phone before it could skitter onto the floor.
“What is it?” he said, his eyes fixed on me.
There were faint murmurs on the other end of the line. Marthe and Ysabeau exchanged worried glances.
“When?” Matthew’s voice