Read Online Carpathian 00 - The Scarletti Curse by authors_sort - Free Book Online Page B
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a pinkish orange. The sea grew angry, the water dark, waves climbing higher as they rushed at the shore and splashed at the rocks.
Her hand went to her throat protectively. Something terrible was about to happen. She was too far away to prevent it; she could only stand on the cliff watching helplessly as the drama unfolded on the beach far below her.
The wind rushed off the sea, a low, keening moan that seemed to rise into a howl of warning. She couldn't take her eyes off the scene as the sea rose up, pounding the rocks relentlessly in anticipation.
She saw him then, Don Giovanni Scarletti. He moved swiftly, fluidly, like a powerful hunter, his Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
shoulders straight, his head up. His body rippled with sinewy muscles beneath his elegant clothing. The wind tugged at his wavy black hair, leaving it tousled like that of a small boy. Yet he looked every inch a man, ruthless and dangerous, far more powerful than any other she had ever encountered.
Nicoletta turned her attention to the fellow now crouching behind a rock. He hadn't moved at all. Don Scarletti glided unknowingly past the hiding place, his attention fixed on something she couldn't see. From off to the right, where she knew the caves were, another man emerged, calling out a greeting, a smile on his face. Nicoletta couldn't hear him, but the two men seemed to be friends. It was obvious that Don Scarletti trusted him.
She could barely breathe, and her heart was pounding so hard that she could hear its frantic rhythm. The wind whipped her hair across her eyes, and by the time she had captured it and held it back tightly, the two men were shaking outstretched hands. It was then that the one hiding behind the rocks moved.
Slowly. Stealthily. He inched his way along until he was directly behind Don Scarletti. She saw the last rays of the sun glint off the stiletto in his hand. The sun plunged into the sea, and the sky went bloodred for a second time, the terrible portent of death.
Nicoletta cried out a warning to the don, but the wind whipped her voice from her, back into the mountains and away from the roaring sea. But even though it was impossible that he could have heard, something alerted the don, and he swung around to catch his assailant's wrist. He moved so fast, he seemed a blur, somehow swinging the man around in front of him so that, when the one he had been speaking to plunged his knife deep, it was buried in the don's assailant instead of the don himself.
Don Scarletti allowed the man to crumple helplessly to the beach. Nicoletta could see that the shocked assailant's mouth was wide open, as if he was screaming, but she could hear nothing. His body writhed for a moment, contorted, then lay still. The don looked from the dead man crumpled in a heap at his feet to his betrayer. Nicoletta's heart went out to the don. She could almost feel his sorrow, see it in the droop of his shoulders. For one awful moment she thought he was going to open his arms and allow the other man to kill him. Don Scarletti seemed to be speaking softly, shaking his head.
"No," she said softly to the wind. "No."
At the precise moment of her denial of his death, the don's shoulders straightened, and his betrayer attacked. The don was once again a whirling blur of motion as he leapt to one side to avoid the dagger, catching his opponent's wrist and twisting it as he stepped back into the man so that the blade buried itself in the betrayer's chest. They stood, toe to toe, staring into each other's eyes, and then slowly the betrayer collapsed, and the don lowered him reluctantly to the sand. He stood for a moment, his head bowed in evident sorrow, and she saw his hands come up to cover his eyes.
Nicoletta's heart turned over, and tears shimmered in her eyes for a moment, blurring the scene below.
She wiped them away and looked down again. The don suddenly looked up. Gasping, she shrank back into the foliage.
Her hand went to her throat protectively. Something terrible was about to happen. She was too far away to prevent it; she could only stand on the cliff watching helplessly as the drama unfolded on the beach far below her.
The wind rushed off the sea, a low, keening moan that seemed to rise into a howl of warning. She couldn't take her eyes off the scene as the sea rose up, pounding the rocks relentlessly in anticipation.
She saw him then, Don Giovanni Scarletti. He moved swiftly, fluidly, like a powerful hunter, his Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
shoulders straight, his head up. His body rippled with sinewy muscles beneath his elegant clothing. The wind tugged at his wavy black hair, leaving it tousled like that of a small boy. Yet he looked every inch a man, ruthless and dangerous, far more powerful than any other she had ever encountered.
Nicoletta turned her attention to the fellow now crouching behind a rock. He hadn't moved at all. Don Scarletti glided unknowingly past the hiding place, his attention fixed on something she couldn't see. From off to the right, where she knew the caves were, another man emerged, calling out a greeting, a smile on his face. Nicoletta couldn't hear him, but the two men seemed to be friends. It was obvious that Don Scarletti trusted him.
She could barely breathe, and her heart was pounding so hard that she could hear its frantic rhythm. The wind whipped her hair across her eyes, and by the time she had captured it and held it back tightly, the two men were shaking outstretched hands. It was then that the one hiding behind the rocks moved.
Slowly. Stealthily. He inched his way along until he was directly behind Don Scarletti. She saw the last rays of the sun glint off the stiletto in his hand. The sun plunged into the sea, and the sky went bloodred for a second time, the terrible portent of death.
Nicoletta cried out a warning to the don, but the wind whipped her voice from her, back into the mountains and away from the roaring sea. But even though it was impossible that he could have heard, something alerted the don, and he swung around to catch his assailant's wrist. He moved so fast, he seemed a blur, somehow swinging the man around in front of him so that, when the one he had been speaking to plunged his knife deep, it was buried in the don's assailant instead of the don himself.
Don Scarletti allowed the man to crumple helplessly to the beach. Nicoletta could see that the shocked assailant's mouth was wide open, as if he was screaming, but she could hear nothing. His body writhed for a moment, contorted, then lay still. The don looked from the dead man crumpled in a heap at his feet to his betrayer. Nicoletta's heart went out to the don. She could almost feel his sorrow, see it in the droop of his shoulders. For one awful moment she thought he was going to open his arms and allow the other man to kill him. Don Scarletti seemed to be speaking softly, shaking his head.
"No," she said softly to the wind. "No."
At the precise moment of her denial of his death, the don's shoulders straightened, and his betrayer attacked. The don was once again a whirling blur of motion as he leapt to one side to avoid the dagger, catching his opponent's wrist and twisting it as he stepped back into the man so that the blade buried itself in the betrayer's chest. They stood, toe to toe, staring into each other's eyes, and then slowly the betrayer collapsed, and the don lowered him reluctantly to the sand. He stood for a moment, his head bowed in evident sorrow, and she saw his hands come up to cover his eyes.
Nicoletta's heart turned over, and tears shimmered in her eyes for a moment, blurring the scene below.
She wiped them away and looked down again. The don suddenly looked up. Gasping, she shrank back into the foliage.
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