Page 11 of Be Still My Unbeating Heart

Now, he just needed to get up his strength for the challenges ahead. It wouldn’t be easy to convince the inspector to help him find the killer.

Currently, the inspector was slumped in the chair, breathing deeply. He must have dozed off, which was understandable, given that he was human and therefore diurnal: a creature of the day. Standing this close to him, Bastian noticed the man had unnaturally long eyelashes, and his jawline was so sharp it could double as a weapon. Bastian brushed the thoughts away. He shouldn’t be noticing such things with the vampire council on their way. He had to focus on the task at hand: saving his neck.

“Wakey wakey, Inspector,” he said, reaching out to shake his shoulder. “It’s morning.”

De Luca’s eyes snapped open. He frowned at Bastian, his blue eyes still sleep-fogged as he looked at Bastian’s hand on his shoulder, where he quickly noticed the vampire was no longer cuffed.

“Now don’t—” Bastian began, but De Luca emitted a strangled cry and flew up from the chair. He threw Bastian against the wall, hard enough that Bastian cracked the back of his skull on the stonework and then felt something hard dig into his chest.

The inspector had a stake.

De Luca squeezed it tight, pressing the weapon between Bastian’s ribs as he demanded, “How did you get out of the handcuffs?”

“Whitby picked the lock. She’s handy like that, though I’m afraid she has a habit of boasting afterward.”

De Luca’s other hand jerked to his own neck, searching, sudden fear in his eyes.

“I didn’t bite you, darling, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Bastian said. “I just thought—”

“For the last time, you will address me as ‘Inspector’ or Ispettore De Luca.”

“That’s quite a mouthful, but if you insist.”

With one hand, De Luca shoved Bastian against the wall, while the other kept the stake between them. “What were you doing? Just now?”

“I merely wanted to let you know I’ve brewed some coffee. I thought you might need it after your sleepless night.”

Embarrassment crinkled De Luca’s brow. His heart beat fast, thudding loudly in Bastian’s ears.

“How did you get past me?” he demanded.

Bastian shrugged. “I can be as quiet as the grave when the mood takes me.”

De Luca gritted his teeth and dug in harder with the stake. His hips were sharp against Bastian’s, and Bastian couldn’t help noting the press of his groin, firm and full against his thigh. It had been an age—years, actually—since Bastian had felt the weight of another man on him, and the delightful sensation made him momentarily forget where he was.

He smelled perspiration and fading aftershave, and below that he smelled De Luca. The sweet, musky scent of a man.

Stop thinking about his scent. He is a poliziotto. Your own personal guard.

“Go ahead and stake me if you must,” Bastian said. “But might I make a small suggestion first?” He raised a hand to nudge the stake to the other side of his chest. “You might want to aim for the heart, dear.”

“Don’t call me—”

“Sorry, love. I mean, De Luca.”

De Luca’s nostrils flared. Bastian got the feeling he wouldn’t go through with it, though. The inspector was inexperienced, at least when it came to vampires, and there was hesitation in his gaze. He was freaked out, not felonious.

Bastian had to keep it light. He needed De Luca on his side. It was the conclusion he had come to in the dark hours before dawn. He would never convince Commissario Zappa of his innocence, and the buffoon had already done the worst thing imaginable by summoning the vampire council.

But De Luca was younger. There was a chance he didn’t share the same small-minded prejudices as his superior. In time, he might come around and see Bastian for who he really was. At the moment, it was Bastian’s best shot at freedom.

He felt the heat of the inspector’s crotch against his thigh and wondered briefly ifseducingthe poliziotto would be a more appealing option. He could reach down and take the man’s…hand, then give De Luca his brightest bedroom eyes and—

No, that was too risky. Whitby would claw him to pieces for playing with his freedom. Besides, De Luca had shown no obvious appreciation of the male gender so far.

Except for that blush last night when he put his hand in your pocket to retrieve the key.

“As fun as this is,” Bastian said, “I can smell the fish burning, and Whitby gets so fussy about her breakfast. Perhaps we could continue this in the kitchen? Not that I’m notlovingthis spectacular display of masculine energy.”