Gabriel and the Swallows (The Volatile Duology #1) Read Online Free

reminded Gallo, serious now, “that I have been stalking for a very long time. Magnificent creature. Blue and grey wings.”
    “If it’s so magnificent, why don’t you leave it alone?” I was horrified by my own outburst and the sudden protective surge that swelled through my chest.
    And then Gallo was upon me and I could smell the stale cigarettes on his coat, the rank wine breath. “Because, little boy,” he proclaimed, “I am very fond of taxidermy.”
    “We have seen no falcons, sir,” repeated Papa firmly. “And it is getting late.”
    “Something disrupt your dinner?” inquired Gallo with faux-politeness, regarding our stone-cold supper and neatly laid out tableware. “Tsk, tsk,” he clucked, regarding our meager fare with delight, “no antipasti, no primi piatti ? I suppose the Laurentis family eats like heathens, not Italians.” A cold light entered his eyes when he saw the bloodstain the bird-girl had left. His stare sought me out, her dried blood all over my cardigan.
    “I was helping Mamma chop the meat. I was sitting right there,” I stammered, motioning to the pot of rabbit ragout.
    “He’s a clumsy boy,” added my father helpfully.
    Our visitor was silent for a moment, his brow creased in thought. “I see,” he conceded. “And clumsy boys should not be permitted to play with knives. I hope you will see to this, Celso. And where is Blanca this evening?”
    “She is resting,” replied Papa.
    “Ah,” said Gallo. “Perhaps she has had, how can I put this, another episode ?” And he chuckled cruelly, approaching the front door.
    “Good night, Signore Gallo,” said Papa tautly.
    “Back to your books then, Laurentis,” he tormented, and placed the barrel of his gun over my father’s spectacles, hidden inside his pocket. “ Bang,” he silently mouthed, sneering.
    “I hope the safety’s on!” I snapped from where I stood near the bloodstained table.
    “It is for tonight,” replied Gallo smoothly, “and until I see that falcon again. Good luck with the knives, little man.”
    “Good luck with the hunt!” I added willfully.
    “A smart-mouthed boy you’ve got,” he murmured to Papa, “you must be so proud. And I trust, if you see that falcon, that you’ll do the right thing.”
    “I assure you,” stated Papa, “I will always do the right thing.”
    “Good man,” sneered Gallo, “my love to Blanca.”
    When he had disappeared into the fields, Papa turned off all the lamps but one. He shut all the windows, and with them, the curtains. I returned to the cradle and peeked under the blanket. There she was, asleep on her left side, her right wing curled around her. I looked down upon her very ordinary face and wondered where she came from.
    “She looks nothing like a falcon,” I commented to no one in particular.
    “”You shouldn’t have spoken to Signore Gallo like that,” chided my father gently.
    “But he held his gun to you!”
    “As a means of intimidation. He never would have used it.”
    “He’s a mean man.”
    “He is all bark, no bite,” assured Papa, but I did not believe him. “The Gallos have owned that land for generations. And when this farm is yours, you will have to deal with them. And the less bad blood between us, the better.”
    “I hate that whole family!” I spat.
    “Come and have supper,” said Papa, sitting down and spooning out the stew with gusto.
    “Why did you have to call me clumsy in front of him?”
    “One potato or two?” continued my father.
    “Can I sleep here on the floor tonight?”
    “I think your mother’s asleep, so we’ll save this for her breakfast,” said Papa, and portioned out a perfect serving with all Mamma’s favorite pieces.
    “Do you really think I’m clumsy?”
    But Papa didn’t respond, and I watched him chew thoughtfully as I pushed food around on my plate.
    “Go to bed, son,” he said when he was done eating.
    “Are you coming too?”
    “In a minute,” he replied, and as I was closing my