Chapter 6 #2
“No, Inspector. On this matter, if no other, I am entirely serious.”
“You are not permitted to leave the apartment,” De Luca said.
Bastian sniffed defiantly. “As much as I’d love to stay here with you, I refuse to take the fall for somebody else’s crime. Together, we can solve this.”
De Luca’s pulse picked up again and he looked at Bastian, really looked at him for the first time. It was intense, that blue stare. Bastian found it fascinating.
“I don’t need your help,” De Luca said.
“Darling, look at me,” Bastian said, picking up a ChapStick and dabbing it on his lips. “Do I really look like somebody capable of murder?”
He stood in his tiny robe, one bare foot lifted and resting against his calf, lips glossy with balm. De Luca’s gaze remained on him a beat longer than Bastian expected it to, then the inspector spun back to the sink. He began to dry the pan with a dishtowel.
“I can pick up on things you might miss,” Bastian said.
“I know your cologne is Tom Ford, and if you gave me a minute, I could tell you the brand of your washing detergent. Also, you haven’t eaten in at least ten hours and your stomach gurgled when I mentioned coffee, but you said no because you were probably afraid I’d poison you. ”
De Luca hung the pan over the stove, heart beating faster still. The sound filled Bastian’s head, and it was oddly intimate, that pulse.
“If this is your idea of foreplay,” Whitby said, “it’s both fascinating and repulsive.”
They both looked at the cat. Bastian wouldn’t be deterred. It was time to change tactics.
“Listen, De Luca, a killer is still out there. If they strike again—and there’s nothing to say they won’t, given they’re getting away with this first kill—I hate to think who the townspeople will blame.”
De Luca picked up the dishcloth again and started to wipe crumbs from the table. His tolerance for mess seemed surprisingly low, considering his line of work.
“Darling, what if they blame you?” Bastian continued. “You’re supposed to have the killer under surveillance. But I’m not the killer. Whoever murdered that girl is still out there, and if they kill again, how will that make you look? What will it do to your promotion?”
De Luca’s fist tightened around the cloth. He wiped crumbs from his palm into the bin. Bastian sensed he was starting to get through to him. If only he had something to tip him over—something that would convince him that being cooped up here was doing more harm than good.
He straightened, remembering the infinity pin he’d found on the beach. It was hidden in his nightstand. Zappa had missed it when he searched Bastian at the station, and Bastian had forgotten all about it until the morning.
“I have a clue,” Bastian said. “I found something by the body.”
“I found something by the body,” Whitby corrected.
“You removed evidence from the crime scene?” De Luca asked, color rising in his throat.
“Fine, he found it,” Whitby said.
Bastian gave a small shrug. “It happened so fast, dear. Zappa arrested me and I pocketed what I’d found. But I’ll share it with you if you let me help you.”
The curiosity in De Luca’s gaze was obvious, hesitant and sparkling through the professional facade.
Bastian sensed he needed just one last nudge.
Something that really mattered to De Luca.
Something that might scare him into action.
And Bastian couldn’t think of anything scarier than the entity Zappa had summoned to Vernazza.
“Do you know what the vampire council does, darling?” he asked.
“They kill vampires,” De Luca said. “And don’t call—”
“Yes, yes, sorry, I have a problem.” Bastian tutted. “If only killing vampires was all they did. Whitby, you tell it better than me.”
Whitby sat up and set her gaze on De Luca, the sunlight picking out the brown in her black fur.
“Have you ever heard of the town of Kylos?” she said.
“Little place in the Greek island of Naxos? A vampire went on a murder spree there eight years ago, killed twenty people over the course of four days. The council—the Obliterati, some call them—were summoned and when they arrived, they captured the vampire and pressed her to death.”
At De Luca’s frown, Whitby explained, “They piled rocks on top of her, one at a time, slowly crushing her over a number of days. An agonizing way to go, especially for a creature as robust as a vampire. Anyway, once the vampire was dealt with, the council rode out of town, but not before they set fire to the place. They scorched Kylos clean off the face of the earth, consigned it to the history books forever. Now, it’s nothing more than a steaming pile of ash and bone where a town once stood. ”
De Luca looked at Bastian. “That can’t be true.”
Whitby’s eyes flashed. “Are you calling me a liar?”
“Whitby is telling the truth,” Bastian said.
“But the commissario would never endanger the people of Vernazza,” De Luca said.
Bastian’s mind flashed with the memory of Zappa’s bigoted, hate-filled glare.
Anger pricked his gums like needles. Looks like that would always boil his blood.
They had followed him his whole life, even before he was a vampire, and he couldn’t believe he was still on the receiving end of them, all these years later.
Bastian shook his head and suppressed the anger. It had no place here.
“The commissario, like most humans, doesn’t know what he’s doing.
But here’s what I know: The council are old.
Like, black plague old. They’re completely unregulated by humans or vampires, and they have a medieval approach to justice.
They’re ruthless. Unpredictable. Callous in their lack of regard for life.
Rumor has it that, despite being vampires themselves, they enjoy hunting their own kind.
They can be fickle and impulsive, something they clearly have in common with your dear boss.
And, no, they don’t ruin all towns they’re summoned to.
I couldn’t say why they do what they do, but the odds aren’t exactly in your favor. ”
“Some say that the Obliterati raze a town out of spite,” Whitby said, “others, that they simply enjoy watching it burn.”
De Luca had paled, his hands knotted around the dishcloth.
“They can’t do that,” he said, panic etching his face. “They can’t just destroy a town.”
“Believe me, Inspector,” Bastian said, “they can. That’s why we must move fast. The sooner we find the killer, the sooner we can come up with a play against the vampire council.”
De Luca looked from Bastian to Whitby, his left hand going to the stake attached to his belt. Bastian could practically see his mind working, wrestling with what he’d been told. Surely it was better to believe what Bastian and Whitby had told him than risk the consequences if he didn’t?
“Give me at least until the vampire council arrive,” Bastian said. “If you have any doubt whatsoever about my guilt, give me that, and I’ll prove I’m not a killer. But if we sit around here and somebody else dies, that’ll be it for both of us.”
De Luca pushed a hand through his black hair. “The vampire council will be here in less than two days. That’s no time at all.”
Bastian raised his hands, scarred wrists pressed together. It caused his robe to open a little at the chest again, exposing his left nipple.
“If we don’t find the killer, dear, I’ll let you cuff me yourself.”
This time, De Luca really did blush.