NICHOLAI HEARD her footsteps on the hatchway steps. “Solange?” “Nicholai.” Her perfume was intoxicating. Nicholai rolled out of the bed and came to her. “Thank God,” she said. “I was so afraid…” Solange pressed herself tight against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, trapped the knife against her back, and whispered, “Per tu amicu.” She stiffened, ever so slightly, and he knew. And felt his heart break.
