Of Blood and Bone (The Minaldi Legacy #1)(2)
Author: Courtney Cole

And sometimes, on his very darkest days, he is a depraved killer.

But I have gotten ahead of myself.  I should begin at the beginning.  If I don’t, you will never understand.

Chapter One

From the Beginning

Eva

As I step from the ferry onto the pier, the first thing I notice about Malta is the smell in the air.  It smells of sand and sea.  Everything about this small island nation revolves around the shimmering blue water surrounding it.  Fishermen have been born and bred and lived and died for thousands of years here.  The sea is everything.

As a testament to that, ships and boats and dinghies are everywhere around me.  There are fishermen, sailors and dockhands.  There are fish mongers, there are fish markets and there are crusty old Maltese men who creep out to the piers at the crack of dawn to fish just for the pure enjoyment of it.  The saltiness of the sea is in their blood.

Romans used to call Malta the Land of Honey.  And as I stand here in the early evening light, I can see why.  The sun is just starting to sink over the horizon, over the edge of the sea, and everything here is bathed in radiant gold.  The buildings created from sandstone and ancient rock appear to glow in the light.  And even though the name truly stems from Malta’s ancient history of honey production, I prefer to think it is because Malta is continually bathed in a honey-colored glow from the sun.

I make my way down the wooden planked pier, taking care not to trip over the uneven boards.  I have been traveling for thirty hours so I am definitely inclined to stumble.  I can’t remember when I’ve ever been so exhausted.

“Dr. Talbot!”

A voice with a Maltese accent calls for me and I turn my head to find a stooped older man in a white floppy fishing hat making his way to me through the throng on the pier.

I smile and hold out my hand.

“You must be Tomas.”

The man shakes his head.  “No, my name is Alanzo. Tomas was detained, but he sent me to drive you to your summer cottage.”

I nod. “Thank you.  I appreciate that very much.”

Immediately and unbidden, I form an opinion about this man.

Loyal, Kind.  Trusting and open. An inherent need to please. 

I can see all of these things in his eyes.  Since my doctoral dissertation involves studying the decisiveness of the first meeting while assessing the personality traits of strangers, I cannot help but do it myself whenever I meet anyone.  It can grow annoying.  But it is why I am here; to continue my research over the summer and wrap up my project so that I can begin a Psychiatry practice.

The old man stoops to pick up my suitcase.  I put my hand on his.  “Please, there must be someone I can hire to bring my bags.  I have quite a few more.”

I motion behind me at a large stack of bags and sealed plastic crates.  Alanzo’s eyes widen and I can’t help but smile.

“My research,” I explain.  “It takes up a lot of space.”

“I see that,” he agrees.  “It’s no matter.  Come with me, bella mia, and we will arrange for your bags to be delivered to your flat.”

Alanzo leads me to a small rickety counter where he speaks fast and fluent Maltese to the girl standing there. He scribbles something on a paper and hands it to her with his gnarled fingers and she nods.  Then he pays her.  I try to hand him US Dollars, which is all I have at this point, but Alanzo shakes his head and clucks.

“No, no,” he waves his hands. “Tomas instructed me to care for you.  It’s all right.”

I’m too tired to argue.

He whistles and holds his hand in the air and hails a taxi.

I am surprised for just a moment.  I guess I thought that Valletta was small enough to walk from place to place.  Yet even now, I realize that was silly.  There are 400,000 people on Malta and half of them live in Valletta.  To be honest, the only memories I have from this place are from when I was small, when I spent a summer here with my gypsy-like father.  The memories from my ten-year old self are probably distorted as hell.

I remember Italian ices, shell-hunting by the sea and long periods of boredom during which I entertained myself as my father played poker.  Poker is, and always has been, Eric Talbot’s life’s blood.  It is how he makes his living, how he gets his blood flowing.  It also allows him to be very, very mobile.  Each summer that I spent with him was in a different place, from Portland to Taiwan.  But I remember Malta as being my favorite, because of its easy way of life and happy people. It is why I am here now.

Alanzo and I slip inside the air-conditioned interior of the car.  I lean my head against the seat for a moment.  I am so tired.  Tired enough, actually, that I find myself waking up as the taxi comes to a stop outside of a little bungalow.

I blink the sleep from my eyes and open the door.

“It’s perfect,” I breathe as I step from the car.

Alanzo beams.  “You like it?”

“Of course,” I nod.

The small flat is made from stucco and is situated on a bluff overlooking the sea.  I can see for miles and miles here and the beach below us beckons to me.  The sand is pristine and perfect, the sun beautiful and cheerful and there doesn’t appear to be anyone else for at least a mile.  I have surely found paradise.  I will have to watch myself to make sure that I don’t succumb to the temptation of lying on the beach all day.  I have work to do.

“Come, Dr. Talbot,” Alanzo beckons.

“Please,” I call from behind him.  “Call me Eva.  Everyone else does.”

He smiles.  “Alright.  Come, Eva.”

I follow him up the winding path to the door.  Green vines and fragrant white flowers are tangled on each side of the little walk and I pass a motorized scooter leaning against the house in the shade. I raise my eyebrows.

“It’s for your use,” Alanzo explains. “You can ride it almost anywhere that is too far for you to walk and for other needs, you can ride the bus.”  I nod as I file the information away.

He unlocks the door and hands me the key, then steps aside so that I can enter.

“One bedroom, one bath, kitchenette,” he says.  “Just as you asked for.”

It is clean, cozy and efficient.

I nod.  “It’s perfect.”

“Linens and towels are included. You will have a cleaning lady come once a week.  You will not need to care for the house. If you require something or if something breaks, call Tomas and he will contact your land lord.”