Читать книгу The Seventh Angel. Crypt of the Seven Angels онлайн

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«And how? He did not answer your prayers? Whether you are from the Orthodox confession, now with the same success would have taken off the heads from images on icons.»

Blaise did not appreciate his jokes. Probably because she has never seen an icon in her life. And here he has several stolen museum icons in precious dresses, and now he was thinking about to resell them into private collections. Maybe for the head in the box there will be a worthy buyer. Even with glance, he will be discovered that the head has a more beautiful face than Michelangelo or Cannov’s works. It is a pity that it is not even a bust, and that there is no statue. Otherwise, the price could be raised until the transcendental heights. Maybe Blaise knows where the statue is, then it can be fixed. He thought only about the benefit. Blaise kept behind the weapon as if she was waiting for some fall, but not from Mario, but from the marble in the box.

«This is my main enemy,» she repeated clearly with an obvious desire to emphasize the significance of what she brought. «Main from seven.»