Page 115 of Be Still My Unbeating Heart

He rubbed his hands together, listening to the sound of gently moving water that echoed around them.

“I don’t like it,” Whitby said. “Why would anybody come in here?”

“To hide,” Bastian said.

“Couldn’t they find a more comfortable hiding place? Somewhere with cushions and central heating?”

The boat juddered as it struck something solid. Bastian saw they were back at the spot he and De Luca had moored the previous day, when they searched the caves the first time. A second boat bobbed there, secured to a rock. It must be Matteo’s.

De Luca got out onto the uneven ground, tying the boat to a large boulder.

“Thank the sorceress,” Whitby said, springing onto dry land and shaking out her back feet as she hopped from stone to stone, as far from the water as possible.

“Whitby, don’t go too far,” Bastian called. The boat rocked andhe seized the side, almost falling into the water again. He only just steadied himself and smiled as he saw De Luca’s hand outstretched.

“And they say all the gentlemen are dead,” Bastian said.

De Luca gave him a weak smile. “Some of them are.” He frowned, squeezing his hand. “You’re cold. Really cold. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, it’s just the temperature in here.”

De Luca rubbed his hand, then his arm, bringing some warmth back into Bastian’s bones.

“The tide will flood these caves soon,” De Luca said. “We have to be quick.”

Bastian nodded. He was about to thank the inspector for warming him up when a scent tugged at his nostrils, turning his head toward the pitch dark of the cave where Whitby was poking around grumbling to herself.

“What is it?” De Luca asked.

“Matteo,” Bastian said. “I can smell him.”

“Smell him?”

“He has a particularly ripe kind of B.O.” Bastian shrugged. “Quick, before I lose it again. Come on, Whitby.”

The cat strutted ahead of him, leading them into the caves, and Bastian blinked in astonishment as a beam of light swept the rocks ahead of her. The cat’s eyes were shining like a car’s high beams. She must have cast a spell to turn herself into a walking flashlight.

“How very ‘Leave a Light On’ of you,” Bastian said, Belinda Carlisle’s voice filling his head. “A little help back here would be nice, too, Whitby.” His vampire vision could only achieve so much, especially with Whitby’s eye-lights interfering.

Whitby flashed a blinding look back at him, then muttered under her breath. As she spoke, a dozen golden orbs no bigger than fireflies popped into existence, floating in the air. They hoveredin a group for a moment, then scattered, flurrying in different directions around the inside of the tunnel, bumping into rocks and each other as they roved about, lighting their surroundings in a drunken, haphazard manner.

“Grazie,” Bastian said, picking his way over the rocky ground, De Luca beside him. He followed Matteo’s scent, and Whitby must have smelled him, too, because she seemed to know exactly where they were headed.

“We didn’t go this way earlier,” Bastian noted as they turned left into another tunnel, the fireflies whirling with them. “I don’t think I even noticed it last time.”

“Me either,” De Luca said.

“You were probably too busy smooching.” Whitby’s voice echoed back at them.

“We smooched in the boat, not in here,” Bastian corrected her.

De Luca didn’t laugh. He was giving Bastian an anxious look. “Do you smell—”

Bastian raised a hand, cutting him off, because Matteo’s signature had grown stronger, mixing with another scent. One that was sharp and metallic.

“Blood,” Whitby said, slowing. “I smell blood.”

“So do I.”