Into the Wilderness: Blood of the Lamb (Book Two) Read Free Page B

died on her lips. He'd known of their escape plans and yet not revealed them to Father Joshua? Why was that? And why, come to think of it, had he fought so hard to come aboard? He had everything back in Onewēre's Holy City: status as the son of the Holy Father, freedom, health. Why would he give it all away? She lowered her eyelids to avoid his brash stare, secretly studying his face through her long dark lashes. He was handsome, no doubt of that, but the sheer meanness of his spirit bled out through his eyes and curled his lip in a perpetual sneer.
    â€œI know what you're wondering,” Lazarus smirked. “You can't comprehend how anyone would shun such privilege and luxury. Am I right?”
    Despite herself, she had to nod.
    â€œThen think on this. Before this night, I knew what every day would bring. I knew I'd someday take over the reins of my dear father and that, thanks to the sacred blood of Blessed Sisters like you, I could cheat the Lord of my death until I felt the time was right.” He shrugged. “Well, I'm sorry, Sister, I want more .”
    â€œMore?” Just how far did his greed extend?
    He stood up abruptly, turning his back on her to scan the sea. “I doubt you've got the imagination to understand.”
    Maryam dug her fingernails into the timber tiller. He made her feel so—so— beneath him. That was it. As if she was worth nothing.
    â€œI understand that you are no better than your father,” she said. “That everything you touch is poison in your hands.”
    Lazarus spun back around to face her then, looming so close she could smell his stale breath. For a moment she feared he would strike her, but instead a seductive smile stole across his face. “Now, now, Sister. Allow me to prove you wrong.” He reached out, brushing his damp hand down the side of her face as tenderly as a man in love.
    She flinched, her arm rising of its own accord to knock his hand away. “Never touch me again,” she hissed at him, furious heat spiralling up her body until it burned her ears. “The Lord forgive me, but I hate you more than words can say.”
    â€œHate?” he said. Then he shrugged. “Then this should make for an exciting voyage. You see, the thing with hate, dear Sister, is that it needs love to define it, like night needs day.”
    With that he turned on his heel, leaving her alone now to digest his words.

The rest of Maryam's shift passed in a tired blur. She struggled to stay focused through the darkest hours of the night, and with great relief relinquished the tiller to Joseph as the first tinges of pink tickled the horizon in the east. Then, despite the cramped conditions in the small covered shelter and her proximity to Lazarus, she fell asleep almost as soon as she crawled onto the sleeping mat. The steady motion of the sea rocked her, and the exhaustion she'd been fighting now swept her away.
    Mid-morning light was streaming in when Joseph shook her by the shoulder. “Wake up,” he urged, “there's something you have to see!” He seemed lit by excitement as he tugged her by the hand.
    â€œWait,” she whispered, fearing Lazarus would hear. But when she looked about she saw that he'd already risen and was at the tiller. She smiled at Joseph. “How do you feel?”
    â€œI'm fine.” He beckoned her. “Come on!”
    She reached out to stop him. “No, really. Are you well?”
    He sighed and his eyes lost their focus for a moment, as if he'd turned their gaze inward to assess his state. Then he slowly grinned. “I promise you, I feel great!” He tugged her hand again. “Now, please—come or you might miss them!”
    Them?
    Maryam scrabbled from the shelter after Joseph, struggling to shake off the fog of sleep. The light that bounced off the sea was dazzling, and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the glare. While she'd slept the boisterous wind had dropped away,