Page 92 of Be Still My Unbeating Heart

They pressed their hands and paws into wet cement outside a restaurant that was being renovated.

They looked around the church, admiring the stained-glass windows and beautiful paintings, and Bastian made sure to avoid the statue of Sofia because it reminded him of things he didn’t want to be reminded of.

Finally, they sat in a rowboat that was docked at the farthest end of the harbor. Nobody else could see them there unless they, too, walked all the way out the pier. Waves lapped the side of the boat, giving the early morning hours a drowsy atmosphere. It wouldn’t be long before the sun rose.

Sudden melancholy stole through Bastian as he realized it may be the last sunrise he’d ever see.

“It was good while it lasted,” he said softly.

“What are you saying?” Whitby snapped.

“I’ve lived a long life. Many people live far less.”

The cat glared at him. “You’re talking nonsense. Stop it this instant.”

“You must move in with De Luca. He’ll take care of you.”

“I don’twanthim to take care of me. You can’t give in to self-pity now, Bastian.”

“That’s not what I—”

The cat huffed a breath. “I needyou, Bastian. Not the inspector.You.”

Bastian avoided her eye, looking out to sea.

“You think you deserve to be punished all of a sudden?” Whitby demanded. “Is that what’s going on here?”

Bastian tugged at the sleeves of his sweater. “I don’t know.”

“The past is in the past,” the cat said. “You can’t change it.”

“I wish I hadn’t killed you.”

The cat emitted a short laugh. “This isn’t helping either of us—”

“I mean it,” Bastian said. “I wish that day had never happened, because then it wouldn’t be so painful to say goodbye.”

“Will you let me finish?” the cat snapped. She drew herself up, giving him a haughty look that mellowed suddenly as she said, “I forgive you, Bastian.”

Bastian frowned. “I’m sorry?”

“I forgive you for what happened to me. I realize I have never said it, maybe because I didn’t fully believe it before now. I was angry for a very long time, and I had every right to be angry. But you didn’t ask to become a vampire. And you’ve changed, so much. You take care of me like no one else ever has. You…”

She looked away, then said, “You may be the best friend I’ve ever had.”

Bastian opened his mouth, then closed it again. For perhaps the first time in his life, he was speechless. He had never asked for Whitby’s forgiveness. He had never expected it to be granted.

“Now,” Whitby said, “I will apologize. I’m sorry I tried to cast a spell on De Luca.”

“Yes, it wasn’t your finest moment.”

Her tail kinked into a hook at the end. “You needed to focus on what was important. Staying alive. And I suppose, well…a part of me was jealous.”

“Jealous? Whitby, I had no idea you felt that way.”

She hissed. “I’d rather be skinned alive than suffer the romantic affectations of Bastian Emerson.” Her voice softened a fraction. “I mean, I was scared. Maybe. A little bit. Of losing you. To him.”

Bastian blinked at her, his mouth half open. He rubbed his eyes, which had started to sting.