Page 59 of Be Still My Unbeating Heart

Nobody spoke.

“Now you’ll know how Luna felt,” Matteo said, bringing the stake down.

The next moments came in slow motion.

A black blur shot through the air.

Matteo cried out as the blur wrapped around his hand, biting and scratching, and the blur looked a lot like Whitby.

At the same time, De Luca butted his elbow into the neckless guy’s nose.

Bastian’s mouth spread in a slow smile, because the air was shimmering now. Shimmering like the pearly inner lining of a shell, and he was sure he could hear Bronski Beat playing. He wanted to dance, but he was still tied up.

“Bastian!” He felt a pull at his shoulder, then De Luca’s breath hot on his ear. “Bastian, can you get up?”

“I thought I already was up, love.”

“Here,” De Luca said, and Bastian’s hands came free. He looked at them in wonder, raising them in front of his face. His nails changed color as he watched, first shining pink, then green, then purple.

“We have to get out of here!” De Luca said.

“This way!” Whitby cried, and the urgency in her voice snapped Bastian to. He saw her standing on the bottom step, her glossy black fur puffed up in alarm. Behind her, Matteo staggered backward clutching his forearm—the one not encumbered by a plaster cast. It was bleeding, covered in scratches.

“Darling,” Bastian said. “You stopped him staking me. How wonderful. I think I have some salmon left in the fridge. You deserve—”

“Move, Bastian!” Whitby shrieked. Bastian shook his head as more yells and shouts clamored in around him. How hadn’t he noticed them before?

As De Luca pulled him to his feet, Bastian swayed. De Luca’s hand in his stopped him from falling over.

“Oh dear, I think I might vomit,” Bastian said.

“Vomit later,” Whitby said, “escape now.”

They ran.

21

Somehow, they lost the crowd.

De Luca must know the streets like the back of his hand, because it wasn’t long before the cries of the mob fell into the distance.

Only when they reached a quiet street did they stop.

De Luca bent over with his hands on his knees, breathing heavily. Bastian put a palm to the wall for support, feeling exhausted. Whitby prowled a few feet away, her tail flicking and twitching as she kept watch over the way they had come.

“Why didn’t you fight them?” De Luca asked. “They were going to stake you.”

Bastian blinked. The sun kept getting in his eyes and the air was shimmering in pearlescent waves again.

“I told you this would happen,” Whitby said. “He’s insufferable when he’s been in the sun too long. We have to get him inside, in the dark.”

“I’m better now,” Bastian said. “Look.”

He spread his arms and turned in a circle. The world turned faster than he had anticipated. He kept turning on the spot, trying to move at the same speed as the world, to catch up with it, but the more he turned, the more the world spun, streaking rainbow colors across his vision.

“Oh—” he said, suddenly feeling arms around him. They supported him as he half lay in the air. A hand cradled the back of his neck, warmth spreading into his shoulders. Bastian found himself staring into sparkling blue eyes.

De Luca was so close, their noses almost touched, and Bastian felt a giddy thrill at the proximity.