Page 106 of Be Still My Unbeating Heart

The van shook a moment longer, stinking smoke erupting from the doorway, then, after a moment, quiet fell. The van stilled. There came no more screams.

“Do you think they’re dead?” De Luca breathed.

“I really hope so,” Bastian said.

“Let’s get out of here,” De Luca said, grabbing Bastian and pushing him toward the police car. De Luca opened the rear door and shoved Bastian inside. He landed face down against the seat, hair spilling around his face.

“So rough,” he said.

“Bastian!” Whitby cried in his ear. A coarse tongue scraped his cheek, and Bastian chuckled.

“Hey, that tickles!”

He rolled onto his side, just far enough to see De Luca hop into the driver’s seat, hit the accelerator, and speed them away from the wreckage.

35

While De Luca drove, Whitby uttered something in Latin, and Bastian felt the cuffs click open, releasing him. He shook them off with a grunt of disgust, watching them tumble into the footwell. Wincing, he pushed himself upright in the backseat of the car, expelling stale air from his lungs as he examined his scarred wrists. The flesh was red, angry, and sore.

“You’re getting good at that,” he told the cat. “Though if I never see another piece of silver, it’ll be too soon. Also, what on earth were you thinking coming after me?”

She glared. “Don’t act like you’re not happy to see us.”

Bastian smiled. He stroked her head, and her glare softened. She nuzzled against him, pawing the car seat.

“You can’t begin to imagine how happy I am to see you,” he said. “Both of you. But you could have been killed. You couldstillbe killed.”

“We couldn’t let the council take you,” De Luca said. His eyes flashed in the rearview mirror.

They hadn’t spoken since Bastian fled De Luca’s home, and there were a hundred things Bastian wanted to say.SorryandDoyou forgive me?andCan I kiss you?But he couldn’t say any of it because he kept seeing that look of hurt and distrust that had glinted in De Luca’s eyes the last time they were together.

Whitby spoke first. “It was lucky De Luca was home when I ran to fetch him. I’m not sure I’m ready to drive a car.”

Bastian took her by the shoulders. “Darling, I speak for every road user who has ever lived when I say it’s imperative you never get behind the wheel.”

De Luca snorted, and Bastian met his reflection again, warmth spreading through him.

“What about your job?” Bastian asked. “Zappa will surely fire you.”

De Luca’s gaze returned to the road. “I don’t want a job that involves punishing an innocent man.”

Bastian couldn’t help staring at the inspector, taking in the set of his jaw, those soulful eyes. The last time they had looked at each other was in De Luca’s kitchen, where it seemed De Luca had started to suspect Bastian was the killer. Now, though…

“Am I to understand that you no longer think I murdered Salvador?” Bastian asked.

The inspector’s gaze went to the road, then back to Bastian. “I never did. I was just freaking out about Enzo. I’m sorry.”

Bastian felt a smile spread across his face, and his limbs suddenly felt lighter. He had been carrying around the worry that De Luca hated him, but he had only noticed the weight when it lifted.

Beside him, Whitby began to whisper more Latin words; another incantation, Bastian presumed. He retied his hair, still processing the past few minutes.

“You rolled the van,” he said.

De Luca drummed the wheel. “Whitby’s idea.”

The cat sniffed. “I knew you’d be all right. Well, I hoped. Vampire advantage.”

“Considerate of you.” When the cat resumed muttering in Latin, he added, “Whitby, what are you magicking now?”