Why does it seem like everything has turned tense? I didn’t mean for that at all. I was just surprised by the turn of events. So I tell him that. And then I hold out my hand.
“It was really nice to meet you, Luca. Thank you so much for taking care of the spawn of Satan. I really appreciate it.”
He nods, relaxed once again. “Anytime. I’m a spawn of Satan specialist. I’m just happy that I was nearby and heard you scream.”
“Yes,” I agree. “That was very lucky for me.”
“Hmm,” Luca says, drawing out the sound. “Let’s leave that verdict out for now, shall we?”
I stare at him, wondering what that means and why he seems so mysterious when he suddenly turns and walks out. I trail weakly behind him, trying to figure out what I had missed.
And then he is gone.
He is such a commanding presence that his absence is noticed immediately. The air around me lightens and the charged atmosphere is gone, like a thunderstorm that has abruptly moved on. I stand at the front door, watching him jog lightly down to the beach where he continues running in the wet sand. I watch his broad shoulders ripple as he moves until he is gone from my sight.
And I’m holding my breath. I realize it in an instant and inhale deeply.
Luca Minaldi, whoever he is, is intense.
I add that to the list and then examine it in my head.
Rich
Formal
Gentleman
Jaded
Unafraid
Intense
Mercurial
Dangerous
I have no way of telling at this point if these descriptors are accurate. In order to know for sure, I’ll have to interact with Luca Minaldi again. Luckily, as part of my research, I have vowed that if I have meaningful interaction with anyone this summer, I must follow-up with them in a second or third meeting so that I can ascertain if my initial theory on his or her character was correct. It’s the only way I can test my hypothesis in a practical sense.
But something deep inside of me tells me that my hypothesis should be damned in relation to Luca. I shouldn’t pursue another meeting with him. There’s something about him, something secretive and troubling, that I know I should steer clear of. My trained intuition is shouting at me.
And although I don’t have any basis other than my own intuition for it, I add secretive to the list. Because one thing is clear. Luca Minaldi is an enigma. I shake my head and lock my door before going back to bed.
Chapter Two
The Beast
My vision tunnels as it always does when I lose myself.
I only have a split second, a moment, really; before I am overtaken by the basest of instincts, by the blurs of reds and blacks. I can’t fight it. I have tried before and it is useless.
My periphery is vanished now, absorbed by the darkness. I can focus only on what is in front of me. My subconscious is gone, my guilt is gone, my logic is gone.
There is nothing left.
Except for a driving need.
As always, I succumb to it.
I can do nothing else.
My feet thump onto the twisted path to the beach and my head snaps to attention in the breeze. Someone in the near distance is cooking dinner.
Oregano, oil, beef.
I pivot and move into the shadows where I belong.
My nerve-endings are standing at attention. I can smell everything, see everything. I can feel everything. It is exhilarating and smothering at once. I breathe deeply and attempt to harness it. And then I charge ahead into the night, through the trees.
A house comes into focus. Small and neat. I pad lightly up the path and the ocean crashes behind me as I linger at the door. Dinner smells drift from the window and I inhale, allowing the breeze to wash over my skin as I stand still.
I am only hungry for one thing.
There is not the bustle of family from within these walls. There is no noise at all.
I don’t knock.
I move silently through the rooms until I find what I am looking for.
She turns, startled.
But she doesn’t scream. She looks curious; wondering why I am here, what I want from her. I don’t hesitate to show her.
I cross the room in two strides.
Her throat is in my hands.
My tongue is in her mouth, her teeth scrape against mine.
She is screaming now because she can see what I want, but my mouth quickly muffles the noise.
I enjoy the vibration of the sound against my lips, the heat of her breath against mine. Everything is visceral now, an explosion of sensations and my vision blurs.
She is soft and I am hard and I rage against her, taking her over and over until her eyes glaze and her screaming stops.
Her heart is pounding against my chest and her body is so very fragile.
So I break it.
Chapter Three
Eva
A knock on my cottage door wakes me from sleep. I lie still for a moment longer, clearing my mind from sleep-induced fog. There is another knock and I climb from the bed, only just now remembering that I am still fully dressed, as I answer the door.
An elderly man is on my stoop with grayed hair and warm brown eyes.
He looks at me and grins.
“Dr. Talbot! You look just like your papa! But for your eyes and red hair.”
I shake my head. This is something that I’ve heard my entire life. I do resemble my father with my straight Roman nose and delicate features. My father has dark eyes though, and I have inherited my mother’s instead, as well as her pale skin and red hair.
“You must be Tomas,” I observe. He grasps my hand and squeezes it while he nods.
“Yes, bella mia. I’m so sorry that I was unable to meet you yesterday. I’m an old man and I had a doctor’s appointment to keep. I do hope that my friend Alanzo didn’t ramble too much with his stories.”
I laugh and shake my head. “No, Alanzo was charming. Thank you for sending him.”
Tomas smiles. “I’m so happy to finally see you again. You probably don’t remember me, but I knew your papa very well when you and he lived here so many years ago.”
I laugh. “I don’t remember much from that long ago, Tomas. But I’m very happy to meet you now.”
Loyal, friendly, open.
I begin my mental list of Tomas’ traits.
“Your bags arrived,” he tells me, motioning to a stack of luggage outside of the door. “You must have been sleeping.”