Chapter 16
Whitby stayed ashore.
“Are you certain you don’t want to join us?” Bastian asked, but she eyed the rowboat with disdain and refused to step aboard, saying she needed time to practice her spells after the success with the scooter.
He was pretty sure she was just scared of the water, but he didn’t call her on it.
“Just remember to apply more sun cream,” she shouted after them as De Luca rowed them out to sea in the wooden, two-man vessel. “I can’t bear any more of that sun sickness rubbish.”
It wasn’t long before Whitby shrank to a speck in the distance. The farther out to sea they sailed, the less Bastian was able to discern her sitting on the beach, even with his vampire sight.
The cat’s sudden absence, so soon after he’d lost her in the streets of Vernazza, caused an ache behind his ribs. He had meant what he told De Luca in the church. Whitby meant a lot to him, and they needed each other. If that was codependency, so be it.
“She’s some character,” De Luca said, and he could only mean the cat.
“She’ll be the death of me,” Bastian joked, still searching the shore.
“Are you worried about her?”
“She’s kind of a stress-monster. And she hasn’t had to look after herself in a long time.”
“I get the sense she can handle herself,” De Luca said. “Even if she pretends otherwise. Was she a stray, before you took her in?”
Bastian blinked his gaze to the inspector. De Luca looked away, as if embarrassed by his own curiosity, then looked back at Bastian.
“She’d had a tough time,” Bastian said. “We don’t talk about it much, but I know she thinks about it. Her past. It’s one of the reasons I insisted on this holiday. She deserves to have a good time. To be happy.”
“Do you think she’ll ever cast a spell?”
Bastian adjusted his Wayfarers, making sure they sat properly. “If I know that cat, she won’t stop until she’s succeeded.”
“Sì, I think you’re right.”
Bastian smiled. He watched De Luca pull the oars, the fabric of his polo shirt stretched tight over his chest. His forearms were tanned with a light scattering of dark hair, and his mouth firmed in concentration as he rowed.
Bastian remembered the way his lips had tingled at the thought of De Luca kissing him by the roadside. He was certain it would have happened if Whitby hadn’t interrupted them, and the thought stirred a swell of anticipation in his belly. Did De Luca want to kiss him?
Bastian stroked his inner knee, thinking.
De Luca was shy, but Bastian was certain he hadn’t imagined the softening in the inspector’s expression as they talked in the church.
The enjoyment in his eyes as they embraced by the road.
Bastian had tried to ignore that strong jaw, those pretty eyes, the shiver that traveled up his spine when De Luca’s crotch pressed against his thigh in the apartment hallway…
but he was finding it increasingly difficult to look the other way.
Despite everything that was going on, namely the threat of his imminent demise—or perhaps because of it—he had to know if De Luca felt the same.
He was surprised by the need. Yes, De Luca was attractive, and yes, Bastian kept wondering what it would feel like if De Luca brushed his fingertips along Bastian’s clavicle.
But there was something deeper there. Despite their differences, they had found scraps of common ground.
They were both smalltown boys. They knew what it was like to grow up feeling different and isolated. They knew responsibility and suffering.
And yesssss, all right, Bastian thought as he watched De Luca row, the inspector really is indecently hot.
Perhaps all he needed was a little encouragement.
“It’s getting warm out here,” Bastian said, unbuttoning his shirt to reveal his torso.
Pale—because vampire—but toned. He was glad he’d been turned when he was still in good shape.
He tugged a small bottle of sun cream from his pocket and squirted it into his palm, then began to apply it, smoothing it over his pecs, then massaging it into his firm stomach.
“That feels better,” he sighed, running a hand over his navel as he leaned back against the side of the boat. “You should try it, De Luca. The breeze is divine.”
De Luca’s eyes lowered to regard Bastian’s body, then he cleared his throat and looked away.
“The caves aren’t far now.”
Bastian considered him through narrowed eyes. Was De Luca’s hesitance purely because Bastian was a vampire? And a murder suspect? Or was De Luca like this with all men—too preoccupied with his responsibilities to think about anything else?
He remembered the way De Luca behaved in the gelateria, the sense of a shared history between him and Arianna.
The gelato girl had glared at De Luca with a mixture of exasperation and anger, and De Luca had been curt to the point of rudeness, peering out the window rather than engaging with her.
Bastian still wasn’t sure what was going on there, especially not if De Luca was gay.
Perhaps that was the reason for his reticence.
Some kind of confused romantic backstory?
“The gelato girl was pretty,” Bastian said.
De Luca’s rowing slowed. “I suppose so.”
“Were you with her? Before you realized you were gay?”
The oars creaked in De Luca’s grip. “No. Nothing like that.”
Bastian heard Salvador again. He’s hiding the truth from you.
“An old classmate, then?” Bastian pressed.
“I’d rather not talk about it.” De Luca was shutting down again, but Bastian wanted the opposite to happen; he wanted De Luca to open up more. Maybe he needed more encouragement.
Bastian removed his shirt.
He tossed it to the floor of the boat and stretched, subtly flexing his biceps. His shin pressed against De Luca’s. De Luca moved his leg, causing Bastian to slip on his seat. He pulled himself upright, hoping De Luca hadn’t noticed.
“Have you really never had a partner?” Bastian asked.
“I prefer to work alone.”
Bastian blew hair out of his face. “Not a police partner, a life partner.”
“Oh. No. Like I said, it’s difficult to find the time.”
“Yet you found the time for the occasional horny hookup.”
De Luca met his gaze, his voice gravely as he said, “Needs must.”
For a second, Bastian thought he felt heat in his own cheeks, an excited blush, but it must just be the wind nipping his skin. He liked that look in De Luca’s eyes. The hint of confidence. Of experience.
“Did you cuff them, too?” Bastian asked, using his fingers to trace the shimmering line around his right wrist.
“A lady never tells,” the inspector said.
“Heaven forfend!” Bastian cried. De Luca shook his head at the exclamation, but his mouth twitched in a near-smile.
“What sort of guys do you like?” Bastian asked.
“Quiet ones.”
De Luca’s voice was gruff, but his head tilted. Was he teasing him? Bastian couldn’t help gasping aloud at the thought. Since when did De Luca tease him? How dare he tease him, if he wasn’t going to follow through!
“It seems like you have quiet covered,” he said. “Maybe you need some noise.”
He stood and put a hand to his chest, loudly reciting, “But thy eternal summer shall not fade; Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st; Nor shall Death brag thou wander’st in his shade…” He trailed off at De Luca’s bemused stare. “I suppose sonnets aren’t everybody’s cup of tea.”
He caught De Luca looking at his stomach, want etched on his face, and suppressed the urge to ask what was holding him back. Why he didn’t act on his desire. But it was there, however slight, that chink in De Luca’s armor. The one that said De Luca wouldn’t mind letting Bastian in. Just a little.
Perspiration shone on the inspector’s upper lip, and Bastian pictured running his tongue over it. Tasting the salt in his sweat.
“Want me to row for a bit?” Bastian asked, moving forward to take the oars. His hands met De Luca’s, and the inspector tensed, but he didn’t pull away like he had in the street.
“It looks like hot work,” Bastian added. “Or maybe that’s just you, darling.”
“Cheesy,” De Luca said, his voice suddenly low, and Bastian smiled.
“Cheesy and loud, aren’t I just the worst?”
De Luca swallowed, wetting his lips. His breathing had shallowed.
His movements had stilled. He seemed both on edge and straining to break free—from what, Bastian wasn’t sure.
His own self-imposed rules about fraternizing with a suspect?
His fear about what it meant to think a certain way about a vampire?
Bastian couldn’t help being a vampire, though, and you’d think De Luca would understand what it felt like to be judged based on a label.
Surely he could like somebody purely for who they were?
Bastian frowned with annoyance. He had dealt with plenty of rejection as a human—his hometown had been devoid of out queer people, so he would end up mooning over attractive straight guys, his desire withering on the vine.
And “othering” came in so many forms. Some people accepted queerness but still threw around the word camp like it was a nail file dipped in poison.
Bastian had tried so hard not to care, but still it stung, especially when it mattered to the people he cared about.
“Don’t worry, Inspector,” Bastian said, brushing off his annoyance, trying to understand. “Nobody is out here to see us and think you’re lusting after a vampire.”
De Luca made a low noise, like a grunt, which grew louder, more like a cough, and then he opened his mouth and a blast of sound burst from his throat.
A laugh. A deep, long, resonant laugh that boomed across the surface of the sea.
Bastian jumped. He smiled, shocked and delighted. The sound caused his chest to vibrate. It was a great laugh. It was the first time he’d heard it, and it felt special, because De Luca seemed to take pleasure in keeping it under wraps.
Time to take a leap.
“I like the way you look at me,” Bastian said.
“How do I look at you?”
“Like you can’t decide if you want to kiss me or kill me.”
De Luca’s gaze went to Bastian’s lips, then his chest, dropping briefly to his navel and the fine hair that trailed into his waistband before moving back up to his eyes, and Bastian was now certain he wasn’t imagining the desire in his look.
“I haven’t done this sort of thing in a while,” the inspector said.
“Neither have I.”
A frown. “You haven’t?”
“I’ve been busy running around after a pesky four-legged fur-monster.”
De Luca smiled again, and the sight caused the pressure in Bastian’s chest to release.
“Inspector, your smiles are heavenly.”
“We have to focus on the case,” De Luca said, but they were even closer now, their faces inches apart, and Bastian felt the heat of De Luca’s breath against his lips. He stared into De Luca’s bright blue eyes, transfixed by them.
“Yes, absolutely,” Bastian said, feeling dizzy with desire. Wanting De Luca to kiss him. No, not wanting. Needing.
“We have to focus,” De Luca said again, but he sounded less certain.
Bastian’s hand found his arm, found those hard, tensed muscles, and the contact seemed to set something loose in De Luca, because he surged forward, closing the space between them, pushing their mouths together, and his scent filled Bastian’s nostrils.
Aftershave and perspiration and him. De Luca. De Luca kissing him.
Heat rushed into Bastian’s lips.
He felt De Luca’s pulse in the kiss, the blood pumping hard, and when De Luca’s tongue entered Bastian’s mouth, he tasted of mint chocolate chip.
Bastian tingled from his head to his toes.
Every part of him shivered with delight.
Madonna’s “Open Your Heart” played in his head as he ran his hands over the inspector’s chest, feeling the strength in him, the heat.
His hands moved down to De Luca’s waist, then around and behind him, grabbing his ass and pulling their bodies together—feeling De Luca’s enjoyment growing in his pants.
Bastian’s own cock twitched, swelling with heat, reacting to the sensation of De Luca pressed against him, breathing into him, his kisses hungry and urgent.
“Shit,” De Luca said, and Bastian broke away just in time to see one of the oars sliding through the oarlock, about to slip free, into the water.
Bastian lunged for it, but the boat rocked, and he lost his balance. With a cry, he went over the side, into the water.
Coldness crashed around him, rushing into his nostrils and filling his lungs.
It pressed down over his head and Bastian thrashed his arms, propelling himself upward.
He broke the surface with a spluttering gasp, coughing water from his lungs.
He didn’t breathe, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed being waterlogged.
“Are you okay?”
Bastian looked up to see De Luca was laughing again, and the musical sound was both thrilling and infuriating. It echoed across the water and penetrated Bastian’s heart.
Bastian smiled despite himself as he treaded water.
“Maybe you’re going to be the death of me, Inspector.”