He’s repeating himself over and over, and wipes at his hands as if to wipe the blood away.

  He’s not himself.

  How many times have I heard him say those words? I’m not myself.

  But he’s not.

  Again.

  My heart drops into my stomach as he climbs from the bed and walks naked from the room. I jump up and chase him, calling for him to come back. But he doesn’t stop. My voice doesn’t sway him, my fear doesn’t move him. He’s immersed in something that only he can see.

  Finally, as I scream at him to stop, he turns to me and the empty, dark expression in his eyes, so devoid of anything but torment, terrifies me.

  And I know that it isn’t over.

  The Minaldi Legacy, Part Two:

  OF DARKNESS AND DEMONS

  By Courtney Cole

  It is better to conquer yourself than to win a thousand battles. Then the victory is yours. It cannot be taken from you, not by angels or by demons, heaven or hell.

  -Buddha

  Prologue

  At night, I walk alone.

  Amid the dark and the shadows, I sink my feet into damp sand and continue on my way. The salty sea water laps at my ankles, washing over the bare skin of my feet. It can’t wash me clean, however. Nothing can.

  But that doesn’t matter here in the night. No one can see me for what I’ve done, for what I might still do. The demons can’t chase me. They can’t find me in the dark although it wouldn’t matter if they could. I’m worse than all of them, yet I’m one of them all the same.

  The dark, the demons… I belong to them.

  My will doesn’t matter, my intentions don’t matter, my thoughts don’t even matter.

  They aren’t my own anymore.

  I am a child of demons and darkness.

  The sooner I reconcile myself with that fact, the sooner I will no longer be tormented.

  As if that time will ever come.

  The moon hangs heavy on the horizon, like a pregnant star, its yellowed belly grazing the sea. I gaze at it for a moment, chasing all other thoughts from my mind, until I finally acknowledge that I have to go back. I have to face that which is too nightmarish to face.

  Too inconceivable.

  Too horrible.

  I turn, and step by step, my feet carry me back to Chessarae.

  My home.

  My prison.

  Chapter One

  Eva

  Sunlight slants through the balcony and shines onto the gleaming mahogany floors of our bedroom. The light illuminates Luca’s face in an almost ethereal way and I have to smile. When he sleeps, Luca is innocent and free from torment.

  But only when he sleeps.

  I hesitate to wake him, but we have an appointment to keep. It’s important and we can’t be late.

  I slide into the bed next to him, shaking his shoulder lightly, before I run my fingers along the chiseled length of his jaw. Even now, his masculine beauty astounds me. I should be used to it, but I am not. His dark hair, his even darker eyes, his lithe and muscular body. He’s strikingly refined, absolutely beautiful.

  “It’s time to wake up, sweet,” I whisper into his ear. “I’ve already showered. It’s your turn.”

  He stirs, then turns to me, automatically opening his strong arms for me to fold into.

  “Good morning,” he mumbles into my neck. I smile.

  “Good morning.”

  He pulls me closer to him, kissing me softly.

  “Did you sleep well?” He stares at me, worry hidden in the depths of his eyes. What he’s really asking is, did he do anything to keep me awake?

  “I did,” I assure him, not telling him that he tossed and turned with nightmares all night, which did keep me awake. He can’t help it and he feels bad enough already. “And while I’d like to stay here in bed with you all day, we have an appointment to keep.”

  “Ah, yes,” Luca stretches. “An appointment to fix me.”

  “Don’t make fun of it,” I grumble as I attempt to pull him from the bed. “We can fix you. We just need the proper help.”

  Luca shakes his head. “I love that you are so optimistic. It is one of the many things I adore about you. But I fear that we have been outmatched. It has been two months since Adrian stopped drugging me. Yet I still have black-outs that I can’t remember. The drugs should be long gone from my system. But they’re not.”

  As he speaks, Luca sits up, staring at me pointedly.

  “The doctor already told us that Adrian’s herbal cocktail was unique,” I argue. “Even the best doctors can’t determine how long the effects will last because a drug made with these exact components has never been tested. The components themselves should have killed you, but they didn’t. It’s mystifying. But Luca, you’ll be fine. You just need time.”

  “You’re a psychiatrist, Eva,” Luca says softly. “Have you ever seen such a thing as this?”

  I’m silent. He knows that I haven’t. We’ve had this conversation before.

  His eyes meet mine. “You know that you haven’t.”

  I refuse to answer him. Instead, I throw the covers off of him, laughing when he howls from the cold air.

  “You should have gotten up,” I tell him, giggling as I roll from the bed and stand above him.

  He stares at me, cocks an eyebrow and then before I can even think he leaps from the bed and drags me back onto it with him. I am tangled in his arms and legs as his fingers tickle the bony recesses of my ribs. I squeal and thrash about, but it does no good. He’s much stronger than me.

  He pins me down and hovers above me, his face inches above mine.

  “Do you give?” he asks playfully, his fingers curling into my ribs. I cackle wildly and squirm, but he doesn’t release me. “Do you?”

  “I give,” I shriek. “I give.” I’m wildly ticklish and always have been. The mere movement of his fingers on my skin causes me to howl. Luca laughs, all signs of worry gone from his face as the laughter reaches his dark eyes.

  It’s the first time I’ve seen him worry free in months.

  I lay still, staring into his eyes. Reaching up with my fingers, I brush his hair away from his face.

  “It’s going to be ok, you know,” I tell him softly. “I promise.”

  The shadows pass back across his face and I wish I hadn’t mentioned it. He looks away from me, out the balcony doors, staring at the sea.

  “You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep, Eva,” he murmurs, as he climbs from the bed, leaving me alone. “I thought we’d already established that.”

  I sigh, watching as he disappears into the stone shower. He’s been pulling away from me lately, as though he’s afraid to be near me. He’s afraid he’ll hurt me. He hasn’t said it, but I know it’s true. There’s been no talk of our wedding.

  I stare down at my naked ring finger.

  He had proposed to me before he realized that he was still afflicted. Once the darkness settled into his eyes again however, once the strange periods of unconsciousness came back to him, Luca didn’t speak of marriage anymore. He hasn’t uttered another word about a ring, or a ceremony or a life with me.

  He loves me. I know that.

  But I’m beginning to come to the realization that love might not be enough. Not anymore.

  Not for Luca.

  It’s a thought that sends terror racing through me, causing my heart to pound.

  I’d walk through hell and high water for him.

  But only if he’ll let me. Sighing, I watch the sea as I wait for Luca. The blue water pounds the shore almost angrily, but each time, relents and slides back into the sea, settling into the rippling mass. Time after time.

  Watching it mesmerizes me, and before I even know it, it’s time to go.

  As we glide along a Valetta highway in Luca’s sleek Jaguar, he’s quiet behind the wheel, pensive. Finally he glances over at me.

  “Evangeline, I don’t want you to get your hopes up. I’m seeing this doctor because you want me
to, not because I think it will help.”

  I nod. “I know. But just because you don’t think it will help, doesn’t mean that you’re right.”

  Luca stares at me for a second, before returning his attention to the road.

  “Just don’t set your hopes too high,” he murmurs, not looking at me again. I reach over and rest my hand on his leg, but he doesn’t react. He doesn’t cover my hand with his own as he once would’ve.

  I sigh. “I won’t. If you won’t set yours too low.”

  Luca shakes his head now, the corners of his lips tilted just slightly.

  “You’re so stubborn,” he remarks as he noses the car into a parking space.

  I smile. “I know,” I acknowledge. “But you like it.”

  He doesn’t answer. Instead, he gets out and walks around to get my car door, ever the gentleman. My heart twinges as I get out and pause in front of him, my fingers on his chest.

  “I love you. And I’ll make everything all right,” I tell him. I kiss him softly and quickly. “That’s a promise.”

  Luca’s dark eyes are stormy as he stares down at me.

  He turns and walks away, but as he does, he grabs my hand.

  The smallest exhibition of hope.

  I smile as I trail behind him, my fingers entwined with his.

  When we reach the building, he drops my hand so that he can open the door for me. I notice that he doesn’t pick it back up but I don’t say anything.

  It was significant that he picked it up once. He still wants to touch me, to draw comfort from me. It’s very telling.

  We don’t have to wait. The receptionist ushers us directly back to Dr. Bianchi’s office. He’s waiting for us, his fingers templed in front of him as he stares quietly at the wall. When we enter, he glances up, his forehead furrowed.

  But he smiles warmly as he stands to shake Luca’s hand.

  “Luca,” he greets us. “Eva. How are you?”

  He has the casual demeanor of someone who has known Luca a long time, because he has. He’s been the Minaldi family physician for years, and in fact, was Luca’s mother’s doctor until the end.

  “We’re fine, Stefano,” Luca answers, settling into a leather armchair. “A bit anxious, perhaps, to hear what you have to say, but other than that, we’re well.”

  I sit next to him, my feet crossed at the ankles. A bit anxious is an understatement.

  Dr. Bianchi stares at us from behind his desk and his expression is somber.

  “I’m afraid I don’t have good news,” he says bluntly, his thick Maltese accent coloring his words, making them more beautiful than they are. “I don’t necessarily have bad news, but I simply don’t have answers.”

  Luca’s head drops almost imperceptibly, but I see it.

  “So you can’t help me,” he replies with a sigh. “The night terrors, the blackouts…. There’s nothing to be done.”

  Dr. Bianchi looks away. “Not nothing,” he clarifies. “The blackouts, I’m afraid, are something we will have to wait out. They could fade away on their own. You will need to stay with someone who can monitor you when you can’t monitor yourself. But the night terrors…. I think those are related to suppressed memories. Things you might’ve done when you were not yourself.”

  He pauses and I look at Luca, startled. It’s too close to the truth for comfort. We haven’t told anyone, including Dr. Bianchi, what Luca did when he was drugged, when his mind was not his own.

  We haven’t told anyone that he raped several women, that he sees glimpses of these women’s faces when he sleeps and he wakes in cold sweats.

  There’s not a point to telling someone.

  Luca wasn’t himself. He would never have hurt anyone if he’d been in his right mind. It was Adrian’s drugs that tapped into a dark and dangerous side of him. It wasn’t Luca.

  It’s something that’s taken him a while to come to terms with. He wanted to turn himself in for a long time. But I wouldn’t let him. He doesn’t deserve to rot in prison for something that he didn’t do. It was Adrian. It might’ve been Luca’s body, but it was Adrian pulling the strings and directing his actions.

  And so help me, if I ever find Adrian, I might kill him myself.

  “Perhaps you’re right,” Luca agrees with the doctor. “I can’t remember what I do or where I go when I black out. Perhaps I have bad memories suppressed.”

  I suck in a breath, waiting for him to say something, but praying he doesn’t. I grip his knee tightly, willing him to say nothing.

  “What do you suggest?” he asks simply. The doctor nods.

  “I suggest that you see a psychiatrist. Not Eva,” he amends quickly. “She’s too close to you and the situation. I think I might be, as well. You could talk to a colleague of mine. She might be able to help you deal with the issues that are causing the night terrors.”

  As he looks at Luca with his dark eyes, it almost seems like Dr. Bianchi knows something… that he suspects. But then the look is gone and he is simply waiting for an answer.

  Luca shakes his head. “Not right now,” he answers quietly. “I don’t wish to talk with a stranger. I’ll continue to confide in Eva.”

  Dr. Bianchi sighs. “I had a feeling you would say that. I’d like for you to stop by the lab and give more blood for analyzing. The life of the poisons in your blood stream is astounding. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen. I’d like for you to come in on a weekly basis and give blood samples so that we can track the levels. Perhaps we can draw an accurate picture of how the toxins are degenerating in your system. I’ll do some research in the interim. Hopefully, we’ll have some answers for you soon.”

  Luca stands up and his face is a perfect impassive mask.

  “Thank you, Stefano,” he says politely, holding his hand out to grasp Dr. Bianchi’s.

  “You’re most welcome,” the kindly man answers. “Don’t grow discouraged. We’ll sort this puzzle out. And Luca, if you need anything at all, please don’t hesitate to call me. You have my mobile number.”

  Luca nods and we move toward the door. As we walk quietly to the car, he never utters the phrase that I know he’s thinking.

  I told you so.

  Chapter Two

  Luca

  Somehow, and I don’t know exactly how, I am able to keep the hopelessness off of my face. I don’t want Eva to see it. But she knows.

  She knows in the way I move, in the way that I speak, in the way that I play the piano at night when I can’t sleep. She knows because she knows me in a way that no one else does. It’s something I wish I could spare her, but unfortunately, that’s not something that I can change.

  She’s in my life and I am in hers.

  If I were a better man, I’d convince her to leave me, to return to the United States and start a healthy life there, a life away from all of this darkness. But I’m not a better man. I’m simply a man who is clinging to an idea of something he’ll never have.

  A man devoid of hope.

  But despite that, I’m very good at going through the motions.

  I conduct all of my Minaldi Shipping business from Chessarae, from the privacy of the mahogany paneled conference room and my den. I participate in satellite conference calls, answer emails, approve expenditures, and do all the tedious things that come with my job as Senior Vice President of Operations. Luckily, it’s a job I can do from this remote location. Thank god my brother handles the role of CEO. That wouldn’t be something I could manage from home for very long.

  My cellphone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out, glancing at the name on the screen. Speak of the devil.

  “Damien,” I answer. “How are you?”

  “I’m good, brother,” he answers. “And you?”

  His words are formal, because that’s how my family is. Formal, well-mannered, refined. Well, everyone but Christoph. My younger brother is far more relaxed than Damien or I.

  In my head, I picture Damien, and what he’s probably doing right now.

  Since he is h
eadquartered in London, he’s probably standing in his penthouse condo, drinking Scotch while he stares out over the wet, gray city, his glass in one hand, his phone in the other. Physically, he looks almost exactly like me, but he’s a year older. He’s adept, good at everything he attempts, and calm in the face of chaos.

  Much like me.

  “I’m fine,” I answer. “For the most part. Have you located Adrian yet?”

  There’s a pregnant pause, then Damien clears his throat. “No. I think we have to examine the fact that he might’ve perished at sea.”

  I think back to the night my best friend had tried to kill me on my boat, the night that his craziness had emerged from behind his perfect façade. His body wasn’t recovered from the sea and Damien had employed search missions to find him. Each search mission has returned empty handed.

  “He’s alive,” I say simply. “I can feel it, Damien. He’s out there.”

  “I know you believe that,” my brother says carefully. “But perhaps you feel that way because the events of that night were so traumatic. Luca, you trusted him. We’ve trusted his family for decades… they fooled us all. It’s no wonder that you’re having issues dealing with it.”

  My blood boils and I count to ten before I answer.

  “Damien, I’m not having issues dealing with it. I’ve handled the fact that the Leopoldos have secretly betrayed our family for generations…and that there was never anything wrong with me other than the poisons that they fed me. Trust me, I’ve come to terms with that.

  “What I haven’t been able to overcome is the fucking drugs that are still in my system. You have no idea what it’s like because I was the one drugged, not you. It’s me who is still a danger to everyone around me. So please don’t patronize me with your sympathetic platitudes. Just find Adrian. Until we find him, I’ll never know how to overcome this. I’m sure that’s part of his fucked up plan.”

  There’s quiet on the line, then a sigh.