“I’m sorry, Luca. You’re right. I don’t know what it’s like and if you have a gut feeling that Adrian is still out there, then we’ll continue the search. We’ll behave as if we know for a fact that he’s alive. Keep the enhanced security at Chessarae and watch what you’re doing.”
“I seldom leave the property,” I answer in resignation. “And I’m sorry if I seem short. My patience is wearing thin.”
“I understand,” Damien says graciously, his perfect manners carrying every word. “You have a right to feel weary. How’s Eva? Have you set a new date for the wedding?”
It’s a thought that causes my gut to constrict and a knot to form in my throat. As I think of Eva and her perfect faith in me…. It makes me almost cringe.
“She’s doing well,” I reply. “No, we’ve not set a new date yet. I can hardly think of chaining the poor girl to me now, can I? She deserves far more than that.”
Damien attempts to protest, but I cut him off. “She’s in bed now and I should join her. Come to think of it, why aren’t you sleeping?”
I can almost see my brother shrug. “No rest for the wicked,” he answers, then chuckles. “Or the overworked. I’ll come home soon and we’ll catch up.”
“Do that,” I tell him. “I’ll look forward to it.”
We hang up and I glance around my study. The dark wood panels on the walls reflect a rich sheen and the spines of a thousand books face me from the shelves. I’ve been spending too much time secluded in here. And if I’m not in here, then I’m down the hall playing the piano.
I stare out the window, past the manicured English maze that sits behind the house directly in front of the jagged cliffs that lead to the ocean below. In the center of that maze, beneath the surface of the earth, my hideout lurks. The hidden room that used to keep me confined when I couldn’t control myself. But that was back when I trusted Adrian to help keep me safe.
I haven’t stepped one foot in that room since he betrayed me.
Now, I linger here, either within the walls of Chessarae, or out on the grounds. I don’t leave this place. I can’t trust myself around innocent people any longer.
With a weary sigh, I take one last drink of water. I would rather have scotch, but it’s grown much later than I thought and I know Eva will wait on me to go to sleep. She always does. She wants to know that I’m safely in bed before she closes her eyes. I look down at the massive wolfhound resting by my feet.
“Come on, Grendel. Time for bed.” My loyal dog stands and stretches, then accompanies me as I make my way through the darkened halls of the large estate.
Pausing, I place a hand on the wall, envisioning the tunnel that hides behind the hallway. Chessarae is filled with hidden tunnels since it was built hundreds of years ago and used by the Knights of Malta before it became my family home. I know all of them like the back of my hand. A part of me longs to enter one, to keep walking and never come back. To leave who I am here… and all of the darkness that accompanies that behind. One thing stops me though. One person.
Eva.
It’s Eva who keeps me sane, who keeps me from leaving or doing something foolish. It’s Eva who gives me a reason to keep trying.
Outside of the doors to our suite, I stop and glance at Grendel.
“Guard us while we sleep,” I instruct him. He stares at me so intently, I can almost see the understanding in his eyes. He immediately sits and watches down the hall alertly. The idea that he is guarding us brings me a certain comfort. I know he would die defending us.
As I enter our bedroom, Eva looks up from the massive bed and smiles. Her long dark red hair is draped over her shoulder, her grayish green eyes clear and bright.
“Hey,” she greets me softly, laying her book down on the bed. “I was wondering where you were. I couldn’t hear the piano.”
“I wasn’t playing,” I tell her as I sit to take off my shoes. “I was talking to Damien.”
Eva freezes in anticipation. “And?”
“And there is still no sign of Adrian,” I tell her softly. “Don’t worry, Eva. We’re safe here. We’ve got a full staff of trained guards patrolling the perimeter of Chessarae. He might know these grounds, but he can’t breach our walls without us knowing about it ahead of time. You’re safe.”
“It’s not me I’m worried about,” she says firmly as she tucks a tendril of stray hair behind her ear.
I strip my clothes off and she watches, her eyes filling with a familiar hunger. It’s the same hunger I feel whenever I look at her, touch her, or listen to her. God, how I want her. Something in me has retreated from her though. It’s as though a part of me thinks to shield her, to protect her from me. Or against losing me. Because something ominous hangs over our heads and I know that it will drop upon us any day.
But tonight, I shake those ugly thoughts away as I walk to the bed and slip in next to the woman I love. Whatever else we have or don’t have, we do have this moment.
“I’ve missed you,” I admit hoarsely as I fold in next to her. She looks at me in surprise, then pulls me to her.
“I’ve missed you too,” she murmurs, her hands sliding along my back, pulling me closer. “I’ve missed you so much, Luca. You’re here, but you’re not really here. You’re gone from me. I know it sounds stupid to say, but that’s how I feel.”
I nod, but don’t acknowledge that she’s right. She already knows.
“Be with me tonight,” she breathes, her hands fluttering down over my chest, down to my groin, where my manhood pulses and waits. Her fingers find it and I suck in my breath before I crush my lips to hers.
“Yes,” I say simply. I push her into the mattress and her legs wrap around my waist, her tongue in my mouth, her breath warm and sweet.
“Luca,” she moans softly. “Touch me.”
So I do. I touch her everywhere. My fingers slip into her and she arches up toward my hand. My fingers are cool as I slide them in and out, slow then fast. I know this woman. I know her scent, the way she moves, what she enjoys. There’s comfort in that, a blessed familiarity. I bring her to orgasm within minutes, her breath quickening as she whispers my name.
I slide into her wetness and I groan as her warmth surrounds me, pulling me into her. I grip her hips, pulling her closer, as I delve further inside of her. My hardness contrasts with her softness, and the friction is exquisite. It isn’t long until I orgasm as well, shaking as I hover above her, pulsing into her.
When I collapse onto her, she pulls me tight.
“You’re staying with me tonight.”
Lately, I’ve made a habit out of sleeping on a lounger in our sitting area. I hate to disturb Eva when I can’t sleep, or when I wake with nightmares. But I don’t argue tonight. I need her, too.
“Yes,” I agree. I hold her until she falls asleep, her breathing soft and even. I watch the shadows on the wall move and sway, I listen to the sea crash against the shore, I stare at the moonlight slanting in on the floor.
I still can’t sleep.
For hours, I can’t sleep.
When I finally do, my dreams are filled with darkness.
But that is nothing new.
Chapter Three
Eva
When I wake, Luca is gone.
Unfortunately, that’s not unusual. He sleeps so little now. I worry about the toll it takes on him, on his body and on his mind, but it doesn’t show on the outside. The only indication is the haunted look I see in his eyes.
I swing my legs out of bed and dress quickly, pulling my hair into a low ponytail and making my way down the stairs. I pass Luca’s study and peek inside the half closed door.
He’s bent over his desk, intently studying something. His dark hair falls onto his brow and every once in a while, he brushes it out of the way. His hands are slender and graceful and I can’t help but remember the way they moved across my body last night, fluidly, sensually, perfectly.
Only Luca knows exactly how to touch me.
Warmth floods through me at t
he mere memory and I squeeze my eyes closed, remembering every moment. My memories are what will sustain me, because I know Luca. I know that it will be awhile before he touches me again. He’s trying to distance himself from me. I can tell. I hate it, but I know that I can’t change his mind. It’s something he’ll have to work through on his own.
I continue on my way before he sees me, into the kitchens to grab a piece of fruit and through the back veranda to the gardens.
“Dr. Talbot, would you like coffee or juice?” A young maid, Alessa, calls to me from the doorway. As part of the new staff we hired after Adrian’s treachery, she tries very hard to do a good job, to cater to our every need. I turn and smile at her.
“Not yet, Alessa. I’m going for a walk, but I’ll be back. Please let Mr. Minaldi know if he asks.”
She nods and hurries away and I continue about my morning walk.
Breathing deeply, I inhale the morning Malta air. Something about this place is serene and tranquil and if I didn’t already know what darkness Chessarae has hidden for so long, I’d never believe it.
But I do know and so I tread lightly here.
As I walk along a cobbled path, past the stables and toward the sea, I catch a glimpse of a uniformed guard walking along the fenced perimeter. High above his head, the stone fence guards us from the outside, keeping intruders out and at times, keeping Luca in.
It is at the same time comforting and intimidating.
It makes me wary of passing over the perimeter and so instead of continuing to the beach as I had planned, I stop in an unlikely place. A dark place, a lonely place. A place I’ve never yet been.
The Minaldi family mausoleum.
A hundred yards or so from the trail leading down to the beach, the mausoleum is beautiful in a haunting way, nestled in a grove of trees and secluded from the rest of the estate. Stone walls stand forbiddingly, tall and dark, while ivy grows over the top. A large stone angel weeps on a boulder just outside of the door, lending a beautifully eerie feel to the entrance. I’ve glanced in this direction every time I walk to the sea, but I’ve never once stopped. I’ve never felt the need. But today, my mood suits it.
As I step through the doors, the air temperature immediately drops, and it picks up an earthy, mossy smell. It’s cool and dark in here, and it takes a minute for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. But when they do, I glance around, breathing in the dampness and absorbing the history surrounding me.
The walls are lined with crypts, dating back a couple hundred years. Plaques with names on them are scrolled above each hinged door, each door containing the remains of a Minaldi family member, each door locked tight. I’m sure Luca has the keys somewhere, although I can’t imagine why we would need them.
There is a long row of empty doors left and I imagine that someday, Luca and I, along with his brothers, will rest for eternity in here, too. The thought sends chills down my spine for some reason. Death is inevitable, but thinking of it is never pleasant.
I glance at the names. Lucien and Alessa Minaldi. Luca’s namesake and the co-founder of Minaldi Shipping. It was he who bought out the Leopoldos and in doing so, brought out their need for revenge that has spanned centuries. I finger his name, wondering if he had any idea what consequences his actions would bring. I pause as I read his wife’s name, recognizing that our maid shares the same traditional Maltese name.
I move on to the other names. Albert and Angelina. Alexander and Alice. Stefan and Angela. And Luca’s parents, Nicolas and Melina.
I pause here, staring at the elaborate scrolling of the names. Everyone else is entombed together with their spouses. Nicolas and Melina are not.
Interesting. I know for a fact that Melina loved Nicolas long after he died, to her own dying day, actually.
And while Melina wasn’t a nice person, I have to imagine the fact that she had been drugged for years had something to do with it. Still, Nicolas is entombed in a wall crypt, and Melina’s is in the middle of the room, in a stone crypt that rises out of the floor. She seems vulnerable out there, alone and exposed, all by herself.
It’s very curious and I run my hand along the cool stone, staring at her name.
Why would the boys have done this? Had it been Melina’s last wish? I can’t imagine that. But then again, it’s not my business. I’m simply curious.
Alcoves in between the crypts offer lighting, so I flip a switch and the gas wall torches ignite. It’s very old-world in here, very ancient. Very eerie. The illumination only serves to expose every nook and cranny of the spooky building, giving me chills. I turn the switches off and hurry back out the doors.
As I pause on the path out front, standing in front of the weeping angel, the hair lifts on the back of my neck. Every instinct in my body tells me that someone is watching me. I can feel eyes on my skin. I whirl around, looking in every direction, but no one is there.
Adrian isn’t here, I tell myself. There’s no way. We’re too closely guarded.
Even still, I abandon my plans to walk on the beach, opting instead to return to the gardens. Every few steps, I look behind me, and every few steps, I see that no one is there. But the goose bumps still stand at attention on my arms and a leaden feeling still rests in my stomach.
No one was there, I insist to myself. But no amount of comforting thoughts soothe me, or ease the unsettling thought that my every move was being watched.
At lunchtime, as I push the soup to and fro in my bowl, I play with the idea of telling Luca… but when I look at his drawn face, at the way he is withdrawn and quiet, I decide against it. I’m being paranoid, imagining dark things where there were none. I don’t need to add to Luca’s worry.
“How’s work today?” I ask politely, taking a cooled bite of bisque. Luca glances at me, smiling slightly.
“Same as always. Mountains of it, never ending piles. How was your morning? Did you contact the clinic in town?”
I stare at my food silently. How do I tell him that I don’t want to start a Psychiatry practice just yet? That I’m afraid to leave him alone?
He stares at me, his eyes dark and knowing.
“It’s okay,” he tells me quietly. “You don’t need to babysit me, Eva. I don’t leave the property for a reason. I’m fine here at Chessarae.”
I swallow hard. “I’m sorry,” I tell him simply. “Was I so transparent? I just hate the thought of you being alone. If you need me, I want to be here.”
“And so you are,” he acknowledges, warmth spreading to his eyes. “I’m lucky to have you. But there is no need for you to put your life on hold for me. You have interests outside of me. Pursue those, my love. I’ll still be here in the evenings when you come home.”
Home. I stare at him, a myriad of feelings welling up in me.
“You are my home. You know that, right?”
Luca smiles, the candlelight flickering around us. “I know,” he answers. “As you are mine.” He stands and outstretches his hand.
“I’m not hungry any more. Would you like to walk with me?”
More than anything.
I take his hand and relish his touch as we walk the grounds, over the paths, through the flowers and by the sea. When Luca is with me, all seems right with the world. All of my worry fades away and all that matters is him. He’s become my sun and I am his moon. Separate, we are strong and bright, but together, we are breathtaking.
I smile at the thought and Luca notices.
“What?”
I shake my head. “I’m just a romantic fool sometimes.”
Luca raises an eyebrow as he takes my elbow to guide me around a jagged rock on the trail. This far away from the house, the grounds are not as manicured, and it would be easy to turn an ankle on the uneven trails.
“You’re many things, Eva, but a fool is not one of them.”
He stops by a garden of roses, blood-red and lush. Pulling a small knife from his pocket, he unfolds it and cuts a rose, slicing off the thorns before he hands it to me.
?
??This is the Chessarae rose. My mother grew them. She used to enter them in floral contests. They won a great deal of the time.”
I bury my nose in it, inhaling the sweetness. “Thank you,” I tell him. “I can see why. They’re beautiful. But since when do you carry a pocket knife?”
He sniffs. “Since always. I’m as your American Boy Scouts would say…always prepared.”
The idea of that makes me laugh. Luca is so refined, distinguished and beautiful. Prepared to build bonfires and pitch tents… it’s just not something I can easily picture.
“Luca, you are many things, but a boy scout, you are not.”
Luca shoots me an indignant gaze as I throw his words back at him. I laugh again and pick up his hand and hold it as we continue on our way, breathing in the sea air and flowers.
As we pass the mausoleum, I pause.
“I went in there today,” I mention hesitatingly. “I’ve never been in there before and I wanted to see it.”
Luca glances at me. “And what did you think?”
“I think it’s a lovely final resting place,” I answer carefully. “But I was surprised to see that your mom is buried separately from your father, away from the rest of the family, in fact. Is there a reason?”
Luca stills, his mouth tightening just a bit. “My brothers, Damien in particular, thought it would be appropriate. She’s fortunate we allowed her in the family crypt at all. As you know, my mother wasn’t the kindest person in the world. I’m not sure my father would’ve continued to love her had he known… had he been in his right mind.”
I put my hand on Luca’s arm. “But your mother wasn’t in her right mind,” I remind him. “She should be given the benefit of the doubt, don’t you think? You yourself did things that you would never have done otherwise.”
Luca stares at me, his gaze hard and stormy. “My mother used to tie me to my bed at night,” he says harshly. “Forgive me if I can’t forget that. Somewhere in me, I feel like a mother’s love for her child should overcome any drug or any curse. She left me alone when I needed her the most.”
Pain floods my heart at the mere thought of little boy Luca alone in the night, waiting for someone to save him, to rescue him from himself, from the dark, from the curse…from the unthinkable. But no one ever did.