Carpathian 00 - The Scarletti Curse
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Just as it dwells in me. There were many men who desired Tessa; they could not hide it. I could not blame them for what I, myself, could not control. But there was one, a visitor who came often over the years. She smiled upon him. I was mad with hatred, felt the hot rage and evil in me. It spread until I could not see other than her smiling at him. I dragged her to our bedchamber. I was rough with her. I saw that I hurt her, but I could not stop myself. I had drunk spirits, much of the spirits, more than ever before, trying to drown il demonio."
The old man sank into a chair and buried his face in his trembling hands. "I could not drown it. I struck her as she pleaded with me to believe her innocent. I knew she was innocent. I knew it. I had wronged her, yet I was angry that I needed her so much, that one of her smiles to another man could bring forth such evil." He looked at Nicoletta. "I am a monster. I pushed her away from me. I remember how her delicate body fell against the wall, hard. I left her on the floor while I went to order the visitor from the palazzo." A sob shook his voice. "I woke in my bed the next morn. My head pounded as if it would come apart. Tessa lay beside me, very still. I was so ashamed, I did not want to face her, but I turned my head to look upon her. I knew she would not condemn me; it was not her way. But her eyes were open, staring in horror. There were finger marks, great black bruises on her neck. She lay dead beside me, strangled by the monster that lives in me." He broke off as sobs tore at his throat.
Nicoletta stroked back his wild, silvery hair, murmuring soothing words to him. Whatever crime he had committed against his wife, he paid for every moment of his existence. "You cannot remember? You truly do not remember?"
He shook his head. "I try. Each night I go over and over the argument in my mind, but there is a blank. I do not remember chasing off the visitor. I do not remember anything after I left the bedchamber."
"Did anyone see you?"
"My son told me I roared into his study and berated our visitor, but he escorted me back to our room and put me to bed. He did not see his madre. She must have gone up to the ramparts. She liked to walk up there when she was troubled, to be outdoors, where she could think."
Nicoletta stiffened. The ramparts. Her mother had met her death there, too, that very night. Someone had used her brutally and thrown her body off the height. It could not be a coincidence. It could not be.
Two women dead. Murdered. Both had been at the ramparts. She stared at the old man. Had he gone to find his wife and, in his rage, raped and killed Nicoletta's mother? She pressed a hand hard against her mouth to keep any sound from escaping.
The old man suddenly rose and stepped toward her aggressively. "I could not have done such a thing! I would remember if I had killed my beloved wife! I cannot be that much a monster. Do you see, Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Nicoletta? Do you see the danger to you? Heed me in this. You must leave this place. You must go while you still can!" He sounded wild, once more spinning out of control.
"Nicoletta!" Giovanni burst into the room, his features a hard mask, his dark eyes gleaming. He caught her to him protectively, drawing her away from his grandfather's bony fingers and sheltering her small body with his larger frame. "What is going on in here?" A wealth of menace was in the low tone, his black gaze on his grandfather's face in a kind of condemnation.
"We were discussing the idea of walking in the hills," Nicoletta said, patting the elder Scarletti's arm.
"Well, among other things. I think a walk would be wonderful." She struggled to keep her face stiff, afraid she would betray the old man when he had forced himself to tell his tale of horror, to condemn himself in her eyes in order to warn her. It was a noble gesture.
Giovanni could feel her trembling. Her face was turned up to his, but her dark, eloquent eyes refused to meet his probing gaze. He faced his grandfather with controlled fury, but the older man looked fragile and seemed to sway with weariness. Giovanni had never seen him in such a state. He forced a calming breath back into his body, although his heart still raced at the warning the guard had delivered to him, fearful for Nicoletta's safety. She was so young, so innocent; he had to continually remind himself of that. She knew nothing of the curse,
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