Page 31 of Be Still My Unbeating Heart

Bastian was already running, throwing a “grazie” over his shoulder. He didn’t know the way to the mayor’s office, but he was finally able to catch a faint thread of Emilio’s scent on the breeze. Pastry and cat food. He traced the scent all the way to a smart brick building that overlooked the piazzetta far below.

Bastian stared at the large, black door.

“A strange place for a waiter to go,” Whitby said, trotting to his side. “Who do you think Emilio knows in there?”

“The mayor, presumably,” Bastian said. “Oh hello, Inspector. Good of you to join us.”

De Luca caught his breath. “Aunt Agata isn’t known for her brevity.”

“Do you think the mayor is involved in the League?” Whitby asked.

“That’s impossible, we’d have—” De Luca broke off, blinking rapidly at the cat. He cleared his throat and addressed Bastian instead. “We’d have been informed.”

“Let’s go ask,” Bastian said.

Through the entrance, a white-and-green marble hallway echoed with their footsteps. Columns reached the ceiling, and enormous framed paintings showcased Italian landscapes.

“It’s this way,” De Luca said, leading them into a carpeted room with floor-to-ceiling bookcases.

Behind a large desk, a redheaded secretary stood in alarm. He said something in Italian that Bastian didn’t catch because he was distracted by Whitby, who was already at the mayor’s door, sniffing and pawing the wood. Bastian had smelled it, too. Pastry and cat food.

Emilio really was in there with the mayor.

“How curious,” Bastian said. He heard the secretary saybusyandlaterin Italian, but they couldn’t come back later.Laterfor Bastian involved the vampire council. He strode to the door and opened it, going inside.

Emilio stood in the middle of the room, facing an oak desk. Behind the desk stood an attractive, middle-aged woman who wore her dark hair in shoulder-length waves. Her mouth was a red slash, and her shirt collar was starched brilliant white. A perfectly plucked eyebrow rose in his direction.

“Please pardon the intrusion,” Bastian said. “I hope we’re not interrupting anything important.”

Emilio radiated discomfort. His gaze zipped from Bastian to Whitby to the secretary who came in, apologizing rapidly in Italian as De Luca brought up the rear.

The mayor didn’t acknowledge any of them. Her scintillated gaze fixed on Bastian.

“Welcome,” she said in English. “You must be the vampire Emilio was just telling me about. I am Mayor Moretti.”

“Bastian Emerson. I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance.”

He heard four racing hearts: De Luca, Whitby, the secretary, and Emilio.

But the mayor’s pulse was calm. Controlled. The scent of her perfume filled the office. Chanel.

Sophisticated,Bastian thought. You could tell a lot about a person by the way they smelled, including what was important to them. Going by the scent of Chanel that permeated the ordered office, Bastian got the sense that the mayor took considerable pride in appearances.

“You have a beautiful office,” he said. “Very tasteful.”

“Thank you.”

“Quite different to the basement at Micio Micio.”

A smile. “It is important for people to be given space to express themselves, and Emilio has done wonders with L.O.V.E. He is a brilliant ambassador for our cause.”

Emilio blushed. The mayor dismissed her secretary, who slunk from the room, looking despondent. Whitby pressed against Bastian’s shin, her tail winding around his leg. Protective. Uncertain.

“You know about the League?” De Luca asked the mayor, tone level.

Her smile grew. “Hello, Inspector, it’s good to see you. And yes, I know about the League. I think it’s a wonderful opportunity for Vernazza.” Her gaze switched to Bastian. “Many people in Vernazza are liberal thinkers, but some are not yet ready to embrace modern times.”

“She’s an ally,” Whitby said, tail quivering against Bastian’s shin, and he understood her inference.