Ex-soldier Birmingham-gangster bets his life on luck and illegalities, adroit wit and burning passion streaking his blood-stained fingertips as a dire quarrel commence between himself and the disturbed Dane who purloined his lover.
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THE BENIGHTED PROPHET
INES' HEART IT SANK for the Shelbys once her husband had entrusted her with the knowledge of their unavoidable fate. Could it be? Was it true that after all the prosper she had heard the family had claimed, it now, at last, was the end of the line? Undoubtedly, of what she had been told, their recent years would last them lifetimes, even so, covering them sufficiently in their next lives, but it could not be. Her reunion with both Ada and Polly Shelby were still printed fresh in her recollection, it had sparked considerate thoughts in her already encumbered mind - she could not allow the remains of her family to perish while she and her husband climbed the hierarchic ladder. There was no assurance she ever would be able to forgive herself for her despicable crimes had she orphaned two innocent children. And Ines was unaware whether it was out of love or complete abhor (one feeling of sentiment reserved for Thomas and another for Nikolaj) but as schemes were contemplated and thoroughly mooned over, it seemed courage as well as undeniable emotionwere her strongest card, for soon Ines found herself putting all her confidence in a bellicose act of extrication.
Considering Nikolaj had hampered his wife with his immoral business, she would not be in need of gaining his confidence in that matter. However, she had come to understand that he was ready to bestow her with a task of importance at one point; for why else would he include her? Knowing well of the consequences' poor timing at times introduced, she waited for the right moment, however, one could only wait so long to save a life and even then, she feared she was too late.
Gowned in luminous silk and several layers, it was a difficult practice working her way out of the dress, but to the rescue was Nikolaj who was more than eager to see her out of it.
"Why are you wearing so many layers? This is ridiculous."
His complaint made her chuckle softly and at the end of his tie, she pulled, urging him down to meet her on the bed. Ines went to straddle her husband, but that Nikolaj would not have. Forcing her on her back, he groaned as if resigning from the problematic time waste and he hoisted her gown up instead, lining himself up with his malleable wife. Outside the rain had ceased lashing on all windows of the home, replaced by small, white dots of snow to whirl in the cool winter wind. It was a time precious to Ines; Christmas. For that marked the wondrous birth of Jesus Christ, and while she was abased to admit to the fact, she rarely found herself a good Christian, she still held the memories of the commemoration dear to her heart. Regardless of being propelled through a mental picture sliding show of her best Christmas morning, to feel the bitterness and passion of her mother's passing just in time for the greeting cards of well wishes to be sent, Ines always found herself elevated a tad as she recalled a peaceful, and in a sense, better time. Back when there were no wars to be worried about, no malignant men to consider, no business needing handling, either legal or not; back when all that was life, was horses and family and gratitude for the scarce food served. Now it was death and it was headaches, now it was having a husband to convince of gameplay.
