Carpathian 00 - The Scarletti Curse

right back, but Aljandro would not tend the bambino. He flew into a rage and dragged me from the bed. He hit me and kicked me as I crawled to the babe, but he was still angry with me." Her expressive eyes mirrored her pain. "I am so cold. I cannot seem to get warm, Nicoletta. I cannot get warm."
    "I know," Nicoletta murmured, her sorrow so heavy she thought her heart might break in two. She tucked warmer blankets around her friend. Lissandra was so young, only a few years older than Ketsia.
    But there was nothing Nicoletta could do for her; Lissandra was looking for a miracle.
    "I do not want to die. I do not want someone else to raise my bambino. Do not let me die, Nicoletta."
    Laurena, standing in the doorway, sobbed loudly and hastily turned away to bury her face in her hands.
    Nicoletta remained beside Lissandra, talking softly, stroking back her hair with gentle fingers, using her healing warmth to soothe Lissandra, to make her passage into the next life as easy as possible.
    "He said I was bad, that I did not deserve to have his babe." Tears swam in her dark eyes, and there was no strength left in her fingers. "He was disgusted with me and left me on the floor. He went out to tend the animals."
    "He was foolish in his anger, Lissandra. You know there could be no other mother like you," Nicoletta assured her gently. She bent to kiss the girl's brow. Lissandra's skin was already cold and clammy. "You Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    are much loved—you know that you are."
    "I cannot feel your hand," Lissandra said plaintively. "Do not leave me alone."
    "You are not alone. I am here with you," Nicoletta said. But it was already too late. Lissandra had slipped away with the great volume of blood, and all that remained was the beaten shell of her body. Her face was turned toward Nicoletta, her eyes staring wide in fear and desperation and pleading. Nicoletta gently closed Lissandra's eyelids and sat with her head bowed, trying to pray.
    Sorrow and rage swirled together inside her until she felt almost numb. It was a sobbing Laurena who performed the death rituals, covering her younger sister's face with a shawl and shrouding the mirror in a black veil. Nicoletta couldn't move, her grief so deep she couldn't even cry. It burned in her like a terrible brand, her throat convulsing, leaving her gasping for breath.
    Aljandro stamped into the room, his face twisted into a mask of distaste. "What are you doing here?" he bellowed, his face red, his huge hands curled into fists, "I forbade them to send for you. I will not pay you. Get out of my home. The lazy cow can get up and fix my supper."
    Nicoletta launched herself into the air, flying at his monstrous face, a volcanic rage seething in her.
    Aljandro swatted her out of his way, and she landed heavily against the wall. Then he roared like a wounded animal, rushing at her, his fists flailing. She closed her eyes, winced at the ugly sound of flesh meeting flesh, but Aljandro hadn't struck her. Cautiously Nicoletta opened her eyes.
    Giovanni Scarletti stood between her and Aljandro's hulking frame, Aljandro's fist caught in Giovanni's palm.
    The two men stood toe to toe, their eyes locked in mortal combat.
    "You will never attempt to strike this woman again," the don said quietly, the very softness of his voice betraying his anger. "If I ever catch you doing such a thing, you will not live to see the next sunrise. Am I making myself clear? I am putting this incidente down to your obvious grief over the death of your wife."
    Behind Aljandro were the two guards, their swords drawn and at the ready for their don and Nicoletta.
    Vincente stood in the doorway, cutting off Aljandro's escape and keeping Maria Pia at bay when she would have rushed to Nicoletta's side.
    Aljandro nodded repeatedly, his face mirroring his terror. Then the don's last words penetrated his anger and fear. "My wife—dead?" He looked toward the bed. "Lissandra was well when I left." His gaze fell on Nicoletta. "She is bad luck to me. She broke my son's arm, and now she has killed my wife. She is a witch, and—"
    The don backhanded Aljandro, his strength enormous, the slap nearly knocking the larger man off his feet. "That insult I will not overlook." Don Scarletti reached back to offer his hand to Nicoletta, lifting her effortlessly from the floor. Gently he moved her around Aljandro and past his brother into Maria Pia's waiting arms. "Signorina Sigmora, if