Page 79 of Bound By the Sleeper’s Harp

“Yes, which is why I am so pleased you made it tonight. Thank you. That means a lot. Things got…a little out of hand earlier and I got home later than expected.” Something flashed in his expression, there and gone.

I wanted to ask about it but didn’t want to pry. Instead, I picked up my glass, now coated in condensation. I swirled it a couple of times before taking a sip. Crisp, light, buttery flavor spread across my tongue. The perfect palette cleanser.

“I love Chardonnay,” I murmured, taking another sip. “This is good. Really good.”

We ate in silence for several minutes. I devoured half my plate before slowing down. Bastian inhaled most of his. If I’d doubted him initially, the vigor with which he ate changed my mind. There was something indescribably satisfying seeing him eat my food. And not just eat it but enjoy it.

“Mmm…just the right amount of spice,” he said, leaning back and stretching.

“The red pepper flakes.”

“Right, I noticed that. Nice addition. I like adding it to mine, too.”

I grinned, butterflies bursting through my stomach. He finished off his glass and refilled it, then topped mine off. Like the wine last night, this one went down so smoothly.

“So, what did you get up to today while I was out?”

“Oh. Not much.” I gave him the abridged version of what I’d done, taking sips of wine between my words. He nodded, listening patiently. His eyes glittered with curiosity when I told him I’d talked with Vivi, but he didn’t ask about the conversation. Maybe he didn’t need to. He could probably tell just by my voice.

Another silence fell before he said, “I think Luke is behind Professor Miller’s death.”

I faltered, my breath stalling in my chest. I recovered and took a gulp of wine. Then another. It did little to calm my racing heart. “I had the same hunch.”

“Tell me your theories and I’ll see if they align with mine.”

“Luke was always overly curious about artifacts. That’s the first red flag—given what we’ve discovered. He shouldn’t have had trouble tracking down Professor Miller. He knew we worked together—probably still held a grudge from that night, when she interfered.”

Bastian listened patiently, taking a moment to refill our glasses while I spoke. The bottle was emptied. I watched him set it back in the bucket as I continued. “I wouldn’t have suspected him, except that he found me not long after Jane’s death, that night at Vortex. But then, with my apartment getting trashed and Peter’s body.” I shook my head, thoughtful. “That was too coincidental. I wasn’t positive until that happened—like a gut feeling—that it was him. But the missing badge? The artifacts in the library. It’s too suspicious.”

Bastian nodded, his fingers drumming the table. He took a sip of wine before speaking. “So, you think Luke could be behind the sleepers too?”

Sleepers. It was a fitting name, given the name of the harp.

“I mean, I wouldn’t have thought him capable of that much, but he always showed a hunger for power, which didn’t become apparent until we’d been together for a while. He must be. He has to be.” Dread formed in my gut. I clutched my arms against my chest like I could ward off the emotion.

“I hadn’t believed the two might be intertwined,” Bastian mused, “but you might be right. I received more intel this afternoon—from the vampires. A number of their people have suffered the same sleeping episodes.”

Chills raced down my spine.

“How is he doing it?” I whispered. “I never learned how the harp worked. Does he need to play it in the vicinity of the person he wants to affect? Or what?”

“I was hoping you’d know.”

I shook my head, a little mad at myself. Mad that I hadn’t pushed Jane harder for details. Had Luke? That night when he’d invaded her home? Had he hurt her, forced the information out of her?

My stomach roiled. The pasta and wine turned into a hard ball. I took a deep, calming breath.

Bastian sat back in his chair. “If we don’t know how it’s used, we are at risk.”

“You think he’d use it against us?”

A low growl rose in his chest. “He could have used it against you in the alley that night.”

An ache formed at the back of my throat. “Thank you,” I whispered. “For coming for me, I mean.”

“You’re welcome, sugar. I told you I’d keep you safe, and I intend to.”

A ball of warmth dropped into my belly. The threat of Luke faded into the distance. Bastian had a way of making things feel less frightening with just his mere presence and reassurance.