Page 90 of Be Still My Unbeating Heart

“He’s asleep.” De Luca’s tone was cold, and when his gaze dipped to the pink sweater Bastian wore, a look of pain crossed his face like a shadow.

Bastian took a step toward him. “De Luca, can we—”

“I’ve called the commissario,” the inspector said, avoiding his gaze. “He’s on his way.”

“Did you tell him what happened?”

De Luca nodded. “I’ll file an official report when he arrives.”

“Is the vampire council coming with him?” Whitby asked. “Is the mayor’s husband still in their custody?”

“He is,” De Luca said, voice hollow.

The cat hmphed, her gaze sharp. “That’s one suspect we can rule out for good, then. He can’t have killed Salvador if he’s still under arrest.”

Bastian couldn’t think about the council.

All he could think about was De Luca.

“Please, De Luca, listen to me,” Bastian said. “I didn’t mean…I just—”

“Bastian—” Whitby began, but he put his hand over her face, wrapping his fingers around her tiny skull to silence her.

“De Luca,” he said. “You know how I feel about youuu-oww!”

He pulled his hand back as Whitby bit him.

De Luca looked at them both. He considered the ceiling, then finally gave Bastian a tight smile.

“You’re right,” he said. “It’s better that we’re friends.”

Bastian’s heart seized. Cold crept through his limbs.

He didn’twantto be friends with De Luca. Friends would never be enough.

“De Luca—”

“Can we focus on what’s important?” Whitby interrupted. “The council will arrest you, and if they arrest you, that’s it. You’re done for. You’ll be dead by sunrise.”

Bastian looked from De Luca to Whitby, her words striking deep. The council would think he killed Salvador. They might not be able to pin the other deaths on him, too, but that might not matter to them.Hewas the nuisance now. Their best bet would be to eradicate the problem.

“De Luca,” Bastian began, then corrected himself. “Nico. Please, can we talk? Just for a moment? You believe it wasn’t me, don’t you? I didn’t kill Salvador.”

De Luca’s conflicted gaze hovered on him. He swallowed and rubbed his neck. He opened his mouth to speak, but then a creakcame from upstairs, and he blinked, his usual stoic expression returning.

“I should check on Enzo,” he said.

Bastian’s shoulders sagged. He closed his eyes. Nico—De Luca—was back in “disengage” mode, and Bastian didn’t have the energy to fight it. Not after everything.

He checked the clock above the stove. It was gone midnight. Time was running out.

They were no closer to finding the killer than when they stumbled across the first body.

Bastian was going to die for somebody else’s crimes.

A prick of anger drew a scowl across his face. He thought about Whitby, all the good they had done together, and how lost she would be without him—

No.