Matthew Clairmont watched as Diana Bishop finally left the library and made her way back to her room, before following behind her at a safe distance.

Ever since she'd walked into him in the courtyard a few weeks back, he'd been curious about the young woman. Something about her had struck him as odd during those few seconds where he'd held her in his arms, but she'd fled from the library too quickly for him to work out what it was.

Later that same week, he'd heard whispers amongst the student body that there was a Bishop witch in Oxford, and his curiosity had piqued. The Bishops were an ancient and powerful line of witches. Matthew was certain that he'd have sensed someone with that kind of magic the moment they'd crossed the county lines, so he'd brushed off the whispers as nothing but idle gossip and tried to go about his days as normal.

Until he saw her again.

He'd been at the library looking for a manuscript, just as he had been the last time he'd seen her, but this time, she was sitting at a desk working away on a paper with a witch sitting opposite her. Matthew had made himself as invisible as possible while he'd listened to the two of them converse in hushed whispers. It hadn't taken him long to realize that her new friend, the redheaded witch, was trying to pull information from Diana. He just didn't know why.

When her friend excused herself to make a call and headed out of the library, Matthew knew it was time to make his move. He'd only intended to check over the books Gillian Chamberlain had left open on her side of the bench, under the guise of checking on a student who had seemed so off-balance the last time they'd met, but something about Diana had kept him lingering by her side for far longer than he'd intended.

And then she'd told him her full name.

Bishop. Diana Bishop.

She was the one the witches had been whispering about.

There was something very odd about Diana Bishop. She didn't smell like any witch he'd ever met before. Instead of the sage, sulfur, and henbane her friend was giving off, Diana smelled of something softer … sweeter. Honey, he realized, after a long moment of pondering. And underneath that was something more complex. Combinations of scents Matthew had never experienced before and others he thought he would never get to experience again.

But what was even stranger was that Diana Bishop hadn't reacted to his presence at all. He knew that her friend was aware of who he was – of what he was – as were the other creatures in the city. But Diana gave absolutely no indication of that. She didn't cower in fear around him, as so many others did, and she wasn't trying to push him away either. Which left Matthew wondering if Diana Bishop really knew who she was.

He tried to shake off the puzzle the Bishop witch had presented as he returned to his lab, losing himself in the work that needed to be done there before the following morning. But thoughts of Diana's status continued to plague him until he'd snapped at Miriam that they were going for a drink.

She'd arched a perfectly plucked brow in his direction at his tone, but one look at Matthew's face had told her that this wasn't the time to question her colleague. So she'd followed him to one of the pubs that the students in the city liked to visit, where Marcus was already waiting for them. Once inside, the two vampires had followed their friend as Matthew guided them over to a table that he seemed to deem necessary for their impromptu gathering.

"Is there any reason in particular that we're here today, Matthew?" Miriam snapped, looking around herself. There were a great many places in Oxford to enjoy a good bottle of Merlot, but this was certainly not one of those. And the Merlot was one of the worst she'd ever consumed.

"I'm following a hunch," was all he said.

Miriam tried her hardest to work out what that hunch was, but eventually gave up and instead, made conversation with Marcus while Matthew sat between the two of them brooding.

When he eventually left with a curt, "See you both tomorrow," neither of them bothered to follow him. It wasn't the first time Matthew's mind had been stuck on a puzzle he was trying to solve, and they both knew that it wouldn't be the last.

But this puzzle … this puzzle was one that just wouldn't let go of him.

Matthew followed Diana Bishop and her friend back to New College and then watched from a safe distance as the maybe-witch made her way up to her own room. He told himself that he was only staying to see if she performed any magic while she was safely locked away inside of the small space, and away from prying eyes. However, even after she'd turned off all the lights the regular human way and climbed into her bed, Matthew had remained in place, watching over her as she slept.

He finally left the rooftop of a nearby building that he'd been perched upon all evening when Diana Bishop left her college the following morning. It was far too early for her to be headed to a class or a lecture, so he followed her path, leaping from roof-to-roof as she made her way along familiar streets and down to the Oxford University Boathouse.

He watched from the shadows as she carried her shell and oars down to the riverside, balancing the pieces carefully on her right shoulder, before she lowered the boat down onto the water and climbed carefully inside. With a gentle push, she eased herself away from the bank and out into the middle of the river.

Diana Bishop was a skilled rower, and Matthew had to admit that he admired her abilities. He never would have guessed that she was such an athlete, given the baggy clothing that she had a habit of wearing on campus. But even as she glided along the river with her eyes closed and a small serene smile on her face, Matthew saw no hint of anything supernatural about the maybe-witch.

So with one last glance at her as she passed underneath the bridge he was standing upon, he finally turned and headed for home.


Matthew tried to push thoughts of the Bishop woman from his mind so that he could continue focusing on his work for the rest of the week. When whispers of Diana's lack of magical abilities began to grow around the city, it became harder for him to ignore the mystery she was presenting.

The witches had invited her to join them for Mabon celebrations, but she had declined, citing a need to finish her research proposal instead. It was a perfectly acceptable excuse, however, it didn't stop them from wondering if maybe the tales they had been told were true.

Matthew wasn't really sure what made him leave his lab at sunset that evening and head for the Bodleian once more. As soon as he entered the building he could smell her. That sweet scent of honey was wafting through the space, mingling with the wood of the desks, the pencil shavings, and the old leather that came from the many books housed inside of it. However, that evening, the library was missing the usual confusing scents of the hundreds of humans that made use of its facilities every day.

Diana Bishop was sitting at her favored bench in the Duke Humphries reading room, carefully turning pages of an old manuscript in search of something in particular. He watched as she paused every now and then to read a passage that caught her attention, occasionally making notes on a piece of paper before she finally got to the section that she needed. She'd read for longer, typing out summaries on her laptop as she did, before shutting the book and sliding it safely back into its protective box. Then she'd pull the next manuscript towards herself and repeat the process.

It was oddly calming to watch.

When she stood to stretch out her muscles, Matthew pushed himself further into the darkness, making sure that she wouldn't notice him. He wasn't sure how he'd explain stalking a member of the student body if she ever caught him watching her, so he knew it was best to remain out of sight. But the youngest member of the Bishop family was far too distracted by her work to notice the vampire that had been following her all week.

Instead of returning her books as he'd expected, Diana made her way over to the spiral staircase in the corner of the room and carefully climbed it up to the second floor. She took a moment to browse through the spines in one particular section before finally releasing a huff of frustration.

Matthew took a small step forward as he saw her gaze move away from the book she needed to scan the space around her. Whatever she was looking for was clearly out of her reach.

"Typical," she mumbled quietly, before turning back to the bookcase and pushing herself up onto her toes. He watched as she stretched her fingers out as far as they could possibly go, aiming for the spine of Notes and Queries, but she was a few inches too short of reaching it.

Matthew had just made up his mind to step into the room and offer his help when he saw it. Diana's body lit up from within, giving off a blue glow that was so bright it was almost white. The smell of electricity in the air was overwhelming. If there had been any other creatures in the library that evening, Matthew knew they'd have all been drawn to her – like the proverbial moth to a flame.

He hadn't seen a witch that radiant in centuries.

As the glow reached its maximum intensity, Diana's feet began to rise from the floor, slowly pushing her up those last few inches she needed to reach her target. But before she could get a proper grip on the book, something startled her, and with alarming accuracy, the book she'd been reaching for flew off the shelf and over her head, aiming straight for his waiting arms.

"Shit," she cursed. "I uh … I didn't mean to do that."

"What did you mean to do, Miss Bishop?" he asked carefully. The light around her was fading now that she was no longer using her magic, and something inside of Matthew was beginning to fit the pieces of the puzzle that was Diana Bishop into place.

"I uh … I dunno. I was just trying to get the book," she replied, shrugging her shoulders slightly. "I wasn't trying to take you out with it or anything."

Matthew cracked a small smile at her words. As if a book the size of the one in his hand could do any damage to a vampire - which was something that she would know, if she knew what he was.

"Nice catch," she added. "You have excellent reflexes."

"Yes, I do," he agreed, turning his eyes down to the book to give himself a chance to escape her gaze. There was something strangely captivating about the way her eyes would meet and hold his. Nobody outside of his family and closest friends had done that in centuries.

No ordinary witch would ever dare to try.

Which was how Matthew Clairmont knew with absolute certainty that Diana Bishop was no ordinary witch.


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