Matthew had been busy analyzing a sample of blood that Marcus had brought back from his travels with him, when his phone began to ring. He didn't pull his eyes away from the results displayed on the monitor while he fished the device from his pocket, but he did flick them down to check the screen before he pushed the answer button. The number was unknown to him, however, the international dialing code gave Matthew a fairly good indication of who might be trying to reach out to him that morning.

"Professor Clairmont, it's Diana Bishop. I think I need your help," she said, before he could finish lifting the phone to his ear.

Matthew shot Miriam and Marcus a look that had them sighing as they reached for their jackets before storming out of the building. Neither one of them could understand their friend's obsession with the Bishop witch, even if she did seem unsure of her heritage. After all, she wouldn't be the first witch in the world who was raised not knowing what she was. But Matthew wouldn't even entertain their questions about just why she was so important to him, which meant that he was hiding something bigger from them both.

When the door finally clicked shut behind his friends, Matthew reached out to flick off the monitor in front of him as he asked, "What can I do for you, Miss Bishop?"

For all of the urgency she had shown when the call had first connected, Diana Bishop took her time answering his question. If it hadn't been for his impressive hearing skills, Matthew would have been worried that the call had dropped, or that maybe she'd hung up on him. But he could hear her exhaling over the line, which meant that she was probably just trying to find the right words to express what she wanted to say.

When she finally spoke again, it was with a kind of doubt coloring her tone that he hadn't been expecting.

"You're uh … you're a member of the university's faculty, right? So you know other faculty members?"

"I know some of them," he answered carefully. It wasn't exactly a lie. Matthew might have known all of the names of the faculty at Oxford University, but he only knew a handful of them well enough to talk to. "It's a big staff, Miss Bishop."

"Do you uh … do you maybe know of a man called Peter Knox?"

If Matthew had been human, he was certain his blood would have run cold at the mention of that name.

"I know of him," he replied, keeping his tone as even as he could. "How do you?"

As far as he was aware, Peter Knox was rarely involved in day-to-day issues on campus, and his area of specialty wasn't anywhere near close to what Matthew had seen of Diana's research proposal. Aside from them both being witches, Knox had absolutely no reason to be anywhere near Diana while she was at school.

"He found me in the library yesterday. He said that he used to know my mother and that he wanted to come over and say hi, but …"

"But …" Matthew prodded, when she'd remained silent for far too long. He wasn't sure when he'd stood from his seat, but the mention of Peter Knox's name had him pacing the floor as a way to work out the tension building inside of him.

"Something's not right. I know I probably sound crazy but I don't … I don't trust him. I don't feel safe around him. And I know he's been following me. I haven't seen him but I can feel him watching me. My friend Gillian thinks I'm being paranoid but there's something not right about this, Professor Clairmont. And I didn't know who else to turn to for advice."

Matthew's eyes slid shut as he clenched his free hand tight against his thigh. He knew that Diana would become a target after she'd found the book – he just hadn't expected her to be targeted by one of her own, and certainly not so soon. Now that Knox was involved, things were about to become even more complicated.

While he was practically worshipped by his own kind, Matthew knew that Peter Knox wasn't to be trusted. And he certainly didn't trust the man around a young, naïve and unknowing Bishop witch. He'd heard the whispers about Knox's obsession with Diana's mother, and in particular, the power she had displayed. There was no way Matthew was going to leave Diana to suffer the same fate. Not if there was anything he could do to stop it.

God, the things he wanted to do to Peter Knox at that moment …

"Professor Clairmont?" Diana whispered, startling him out of the darkness that was beginning to plague his mind. "Are you still there?"

"Yes. Sorry. I um … are you safe?"

"I'm in my room," she replied carefully.

Matthew was already moving around the lab, doing everything that needed doing to close it down so that he could leave. "Good. Stay there," he told her.

He was pretty sure that Diana would be safe in her college dorm. Peter Knox wouldn't want to risk making some kind of scene and outing himself in the process. The punishment for such a crime was far too harsh for him to chance it. But Matthew also knew that wouldn't deter him for long. Knox would find another way to get to Diana and when he did, she'd be in even more danger.

"You uh … you don't think he'd hurt me, do you?"

Matthew wished that he could tell her no. The fear that tinged the edges of her voice was so unlike the strong confidence he'd come to expect from Diana Bishop – and it was almost painful to hear.

"He's been following you, Diana. I don't think you should take that chance," he argued instead, as he grabbed his jacket and fled from the building. Matthew was almost certain that Knox had probably given up and gone home, now that the streets were starting to become busier. It would be hard for someone like him to explain why he was lingering outside of New College if he was caught. But Matthew also knew that he'd feel better when he could see Diana with his own eyes again.

"You've been following me too," she pointed out.

"I know," was all he said, because Matthew couldn't deny that he was a danger to her too. While every single instinct inside of him was busy screaming that she needed to be protected, those same instincts were also demanding that he take her and consume her every time he saw her. Diana Bishop wasn't truly safe around him, and as much as it pained him to admit it, Matthew also knew that it helped him to control those warring instincts inside of himself.

"Should uh … should I report him?" she finally asked, and he was oddly grateful that she hadn't picked apart his last statement. Matthew had a feeling that Diana knew he wasn't entirely safe to be around either, but she'd clearly decided he could be trusted more than Peter Knox could be.

"No. That might end up causing you more problems," he reasoned. "Peter Knox is a highly respected academic in this town, and he frequently consults with the police. It would be your word against his and I can't guarantee they'd listen to you."

"Then what do I do, Professor Clairmont? I can't stay locked in my room forever. I have a lecture in two hours! I'm not wasting this opportunity I've been given because some creepy guy thinks I look like my mother."

Matthew had to fight back the smile that was tugging at his lips at the fierceness of Diana's declaration. That was more like what he'd come to know of the young Bishop witch. He had a feeling that if Peter Knox pushed her far enough, the old warlock might end up getting a nasty surprise of his own.

"You carry on as normal," Matthew instructed calmly. "Peter Knox won't approach you while you're on your way to classes. He won't want to do anything that could draw unwanted attention to himself. He loves his reputation too much to risk damaging it."

"And what about when I'm not in class? He found me in the library and he was watching me on the river this morning. I'm not giving those up just because of him."

"Then we'll just have to make sure that Peter Knox knows you're not alone at those times."

"And how are we going to do that?" she challenged, the sass in her voice more prominent than ever before.

"Don't worry about that. You have a class to prepare for," Matthew reminded her. "I'll speak to you soon, Miss Bishop."

He disconnected the line before Diana could say anything else – but even from his place hidden in the shadows, Matthew could just make out a huff of irritation from the direction of her dorm room.


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