like them all around the world. High above I felt the spirits of those who had come before, their glances freezing and nudging and tingling.
Here is where you fight for justice, they said with one voice.
“We won,” I reported to the members of the de Clermont and Clairmont-Bishop families who had assembled in the salon to greet us when we returned from Venice. “The covenant has been repealed.”
There were cheers, and hugs, and congratulations. Baldwin raised his wineglass in my direction, in a less effusive demonstration of approval.
My eyes sought out Matthew.
“No surprise,” he said. The silence that followed was heavy with words that, though unspoken, I heard nonetheless. He bent to pick up his daughter. “See, Rebecca? Your mother fixed everything once again.”
Becca had discovered the pure pleasure of chewing on her own fingers. I was very glad the vampire equivalent of milk teeth had not come in yet. Matthew removed her hand from her mouth and waved it in my direction, distracting his daughter from the tantrum she was planning. “Bonjour, Maman.”
Jack was bouncing Philip on his knee. The baby looked both intrigued and concerned. “Nice work, Mum.”
“I had plenty of help.” My throat thickened as I looked not only at Jack and Philip but at Sarah and Agatha, whose heads were bent close together as they gossiped about the Congregation meeting, Fernando and Gallowglass, who were amusing Sophie and Verin with tales of Gerbert’s stiff demeanor and Domenico’s fury, and Phoebe and Marcus, who were enjoying a lingering reunion kiss. Baldwin stood with Matthew and Becca. I approached them.
“This belongs to you, brother.” The de Clermont key rested heavy in the palm of my outstretched hand.
“Keep it.” Baldwin closed my fingers around the cool metal.
The conversation in the salon died away.
“What did you say?” I whispered.
“I told you to keep it,” Baldwin repeated.
“You can’t mean—”
“But I do. Everyone in the de Clermont family has a job. You know that.” Baldwin’s golden-brown eyes gleamed. “As of today, overseeing the Congregation is yours.”
“I can’t. I’m a professor!” I protested.
“Set the Congregation’s meeting schedule around your classes. As long as you answer your email,”
Baldwin said with mock severity, “you should have no problem juggling your responsibilities. I’ve neglected the family’s affairs long enough. Besides, I’m a warrior, not a politician.”
I looked to Matthew in mute appeal, but he had no intention of rescuing me from this particular plight. His expression was filled with pride, not protectiveness.
“What about your sisters?” I said, my mind racing. “Surely Verin will object.”
“It was Verin’s suggestion,” Baldwin said. “And after all, you are my sister, too.”
“That settles it, then. Diana will serve on the Congregation until she tires of the job.” Ysabeau kissed me on one cheek, then the other. “Just think of how much it will upset Gerbert when he discovers what Baldwin has done.”
Still feeling dazed, I slid the key back into my pocket.
“It has turned into a beautiful day,” Ysabeau said, looking out into the spring sunlight. “Let us take a walk in the garden before dinner. Alain and Marthe have prepared a feast—without Fernando’s help.
Marthe is in an extremely good mood because of it.”
Laughter and chatter followed our family out the door. Matthew handed Becca off to Sarah.
“Don’t be long, you two,” Sarah said.
Once we were alone, Matthew kissed me with a sharp hunger that gradually became something deeper and less desperate. It was a reminder that his blood rage was still not fully in check and my being away had taken a toll.
“Was everything all right in Venice, mon coeur?” he inquired when he had regained his equilibrium.
“I’ll tell you all about it later,” I said. “Though I should warn you: Gerbert is up to no good. He tried to thwart me at every turn.”
“What did you suspect?” Matthew stepped into the garden to join the rest of the family. “Don’t worry about Gerbert. We’ll figure out what game he’s playing, never fear.”
Something unexpected caught my eye. I stopped in my tracks.
“Diana?” Matthew looked back at me and frowned. “Are you coming?”
“In a minute,” I promised.
He regarded me strangely but joined the last of the family as they trooped outside.
I knew you would be the first to see me. Philippe’s voice was a whisper of sound, and I could still see Ysabeau’s horrid furniture through him. None of that mattered. He was perfect—whole, smiling, his eyes sparkling with amusement and affection.
“Why me?” I asked.
You have the Book of Life now. You no longer need my help. Philippe’s gaze met mine.