Page 89 of Be Still My Unbeating Heart

And what if De Luca thoughtBastianwas the killer now? Bastian didn’t think he could bear it.

“Bastian?” Whitby prompted. “Where was De Luca?”

“In bed. Asleep.”

“And you know this how?”

Bastian tied the plaits on top of his head and looked directly at her. “Because I was in bed with him right before all of this happened.”

The cat returned his stare, perfectly still.

“So that’s why you look like the cat who got the cream.”

He wrinkled his nose. “There was no cream involved.”

Maybe next time, though…

“Did you—” Whitby said, but Bastian spoke over her.

“I told him everything. About me. Us. All of it.”

The cat’s gaze sharpened. “And?”

“And he kissed me,” Bastian murmured, pressing fingers to his lips.

“Is it really wise to get so attached?” Whitby asked. “Especially considering what just happened with his brother?”

“I’m not attached, darling.”

“Don’tdarlingme,darling. I’ve never seen you like this before. He’s done something to you.” She straightened. “No, this won’t do.”

She started muttering something in Latin, tracing a symbol on the tabletop with her paw.

“What are you doing?”

Whitby focused on the tabletop. “The right thing. This path can lead only to pain for the both of you. It’s better if De Luca forgets whatever he feels for you.”

Bastian leapt up. “Forgets? What are you talking about?”

The cat traced more shapes, whispering strange words, and Bastian shuddered at the thought that she was casting a spell on De Luca. What if this was the first incantation that succeeded? He couldn’t let her do that.

“Whitby—”

“Convertat cor suum frigus,” she intoned. “Convertat cor suum fri—”

“It’s just a bit of fun!” Bastian shouted.

Whitby stopped chanting. She looked at him, paw frozen mid-trace.

“You’re right,” Bastian said. “We can’t get attached. That’s why it’s just fun with De Luca. I don’t have feelings for him. I swear.”

The cat continued to stare at him. Bastian wasn’t sure what had gotten into her. She was acting stranger than usual.

Then her ears pricked to attention, and she looked over Bastian’s shoulder. Bastian turned to see De Luca standing at the foot of the stairs on the other side of the kitchen. His face was stiff, his lips parted in surprise.

Bastian’s neck pinched with tension. He had no idea how long the inspector had been standing there, but the look in De Luca’s eyes told him he’d heard exactly the wrong part of the conversation.

Bastian cleared his throat. “How is your brother?”