I have never watched a man sleep before. Bram looks even more beautiful than when he is awake. With the tension gone out of his face, he looks younger, less troubled. His hair is madly long now. I cannot imagine him with it shorn for the army. What a time he endured in Africa. He has spoken of it only a little, but enough that I can see how it hurts him to remember. One day he will tell me everything. As I have told him. I had not dared consider, really consider, how he might react to learning the whole truth about me, and to the idea of him eventually joining our coven and becoming a witch himself. If I had, my nerve would have deserted me, I am certain of it. For some time I had not even dared voice the notion to myself. But then, when I let the thought take hold, it seemed so right. He is so attuned to the world around him, so sensitive to the nature of the people he meets. Perhaps it is the artist in him that makes him—what was it Druscilla said?—“raw material” that might be nurtured into a witch one day. Or perhaps that extra something, that thing that sets him apart and can make for a lonely life, perhaps that is the magic that makes him able to produce art that moves people. How are we to tell which comes first, and which inspires the other? Either way, I am so happy to think he will come to enjoy the wonder of belonging to the coven, and the marvels of knowing and using magic. He will be receptive to the spirits—he has already demonstrated that. And I know he will, in time and with careful instruction, become a fine necromancer.

And now here he lies in my bed, naked and warm. When we left the garden party I knew that this is where I would bring him. I wanted him to know me completely. I needed to know myself completely. We did not speak, all the way here in the cab. By the time we arrived it was dark. I had Terence bring us some champagne and smoked salmon and then dismissed him for the night so that Bram and I could be properly alone. We sipped our drinks and ate our food at the small table in my bedroom in near silence. We both knew what we wanted, what was going to happen. The anticipation was delicious! Every inch of my body tingled at the thought of him touching me. By the time he stood up, stepped round the table to me, and pulled me to my feet, I ached with desire for him. I had never allowed myself to be so free.