Page 65 of Be Still My Unbeating Heart

“Sogni d’oro,” De Luca said.Sweet dreams.

Bastian blew him a kiss. “Good night, love.”

He returned to bed smiling, snuggling into the soft covers, Whitby still deep in sleep. He had only just closed his eyes when, what felt like moments later, Bastian was startled awake.

“Bastian, wake up,” said a hard voice. De Luca stood by the bed, his mouth pressed in a thin line, gaze cloudy with worry.

Bastian smiled. “You look so serious, love.”

“You have to get up,” De Luca said.

“Such a lovely bedside manner.” Bastian pulled himself into a sitting position. He felt refreshed by the rest. The world wasn’t spinning anymore, and he felt much more like himself. Night must have fallen, because the sun no longer pushed around the edges of the blinds.

At the foot of the bed, Whitby uncurled herself like a ball of black yarn.

“How long did we sleep?” she asked, yawning as she stretched.

De Luca still looked so serious.

“What’s going on?” Bastian asked.

“It’s the vampire council.” The inspector shot a look at the bedroom door. “They’re here.”

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Bastian straightened. “Here?! Now?!”

“Sì.”

“Shit.” Bastian’s head filled with images of boulders being piled on top of him. The crushing weight warping bones, compressing organs, splitting him at the seams until he burst open like a blood bag. He thought he might vomit.

“But we haven’t found the killer yet,” Whitby growled. “We need more time.”

Bastian said nothing as he went to the bedroom door and peered into the hall. Nobody there. They must be in the kitchen. Waiting.

“The window,” Whitby urged, pawing his leg. “We can run.”

“That will only delay the inevitable.”

“Bastian, they’llkillyou and burn Vernazza to the ground.”

“They will give me a fair trial. We have to trust in that. And maybe they’ll spare the town.”

“I’ll turn them into toads,” Whitby pledged, tone dark asmidnight. “I’ll make them spend the rest of their lives believing they’re tadpoles.”

Bastian smiled and said softly, “You’ll do no such thing. Don’t give them a reason to put you on trial, too.”

“Don’t be ridiculous; tadpoles can’t put people on trial.”

Bastian looked at De Luca. All color had drained from the inspector’s face, and his eyes had gone glassy. The sight was unsettling. Bastian attempted to compose himself. He had thought he had at least another day with which to exonerate himself, but it appeared that time had run out.

“Remember what I said,” he told De Luca. “Think about yourself. The town. Don’t do anything stupid.”

De Luca’s jaw clenched. He looked like he was about to put a fist through the wall, and Bastian felt a prickle of rage in his own gut. That old rage that he kept under wraps so much of the time wanted to be let out. It wanted to tear the apartment to pieces, and the council with it.

But that would accomplish nothing. It certainly wouldn’t exonerate him.

The council had arrived, and there was nothing he could do about that.