Page 121 of Be Still My Unbeating Heart

He broke off as pain erupted in his neck, bright and sharp.Arianna pulled free from his grip, sloshing backward through the water, and Bastian saw the mezzaluna in her hand. She had fished it from the water and swung it at his throat. The weapon dripped red.

Red with blood.

Red withhisblood, which was pouring from an open wound in his neck.

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Bastian’s gums stung as his fangs emerged, and he hissed as he pressed his palm to his throat, attempting to stem the flow.

“That wasn’tnice, love,” he choked.

Water midthigh, Arianna was already sloshing backward, away from him, heading for the tunnels.

“Stop her,” Bastian managed to tell Whitby, but the cat was hurrying to him instead of Arianna.

“Your neck,” she whimpered, standing in the air at shoulder height beside him, her eyes shining with worry.

“She’s getting awa—” Bastian began, but the sensation of blood leaking from his neck caused stars to pop and wink in his vision. He bent over and pressed his hand harder against the wound. It wouldn’t kill him necessarily, but it still hurt like hell.

Through bloodless lips, he murmured the opening lyrics of “Running Up That Hill” to help calm himself.

When his vision cleared, Arianna was gone.

“She went after the waiter!” Bastian said thickly.

“Forget her,” Whitby snapped. “Let me see your neck.”

Grimacing, he pried away his hand. The blood had already slowed. Less blood oozed from his throat than if he were human, but still enough to make him feel like he’d sprung a leak. A painful, gooey leak that left him feeling drained.

“Make a bandage, quickly,” Whitby ordered, and Bastian obeyed, his hands shaking as he tore the arm of De Luca’s pink sweater. He’d lost count of how many garments he had ruined in recent days. His fingers felt like icicles, clumsy and slippery as he tied the fabric around his neck, pulling tight. The pressure hurt, but he knew it would help. Whitby murmured in Latin, and Bastian felt a tingle in the wound, as if a cold breath had brushed his skin.

“What did you do?” he asked the cat.

“Just a little numbing incantation. Magical painkiller. Feeling okay?”

Bastian raised a weak smile. “I’ll live.”

“That’ll be the day. And good. Now hurry. Who knows what that woman is going to do next.”

Bastian scowled and then plunged for the exit, fighting the water that had risen to his hips. Soon, the whole cave system would be filled with water. Whitby bounded after him, the air coruscating where her paws met the atmosphere.

They made their way back into the narrow tunnel, then found themselves in the larger cave where they had moored the boats. Only a few sections of rock remained above water, and the boats were floating higher than they had been earlier. It was only lucky that the ropes securing them had held.

De Luca was helping Enzo into one of the boats.

A couple of meters away, Arianna hauled Matteo across a rapidly shrinking section of rock. Blood seeped from a fresh wound in his side. Arianna had cut him, too. Matteo spat at her in Italian, but Arianna didn’t appear to hear him. Her face was set indetermination as she raised the mezzaluna, preparing to drive it into Matteo’s neck.

Not wasting a moment, Bastian hopped from one rock to another and lunged for her.

He knocked Arianna away from her victim, and together they rolled across the rocks. Bastian landed on top of her, pinning her down. The mezzaluna clattered to the stony ground, landing just far enough away that neither of them could reach it. Water sloshed around them, rising farther, spattering them with brine.

Whitby landed beside Matteo, nudging him with her nose. He groaned. Still alive.

“Get off me!” Arianna cried at Bastian, twitching and flailing beneath him. “You don’t know what you’re doing!”

“I’m stopping you from hurting anybody else,” Bastian said.

“You’re killing him!” Her voice was streaked with panic. “I have to finish it or he’ll die!”