Avenger of Blood by John Hagee Page B

waves of deep auburn fell over her shoulders, which were draped in an emerald-green stola that sparkled with threads of spun gold. Jacob couldn’t help thinking of what her tunic and stola must have cost; Naomi had always taken great pride in her wardrobe.
    â€œThen tell me why you and your . . . friends . . . are here at this late hour.” As she spoke, Naomi looked Marcellus and Antony up and down, finally dismissing them with an irritated look and a wave of her hand, as if she were shooing away a couple of unwelcome flies at a banquet table.
    â€œI think you know why we’re here,” Jacob said testily. It was late, he was tired, and he was angry. They’d walked the better part of an hour—down Mount Koressos, across Ephesus, and up the hill past the Temple of Artemis—to get to the house Naomi had rented. If there hadn’t been a full moon, they would never have been able to see the way. He also resented Naomi’s arrogance, and he was in no mood to play games. A life was at stake. Jacob was almost certain she knew who had abducted his nephew, and he was determined to drag the truth out of her. His voice rose with his temper. “I want some answers, Naomi. And I want them now .”
    Antony stepped forward, positioning himself between Jacob and Naomi, and introduced himself. “I represent the family in legal mat-ters—” he began.
    Naomi interrupted him. “I’m part of the family and you don’t represent me.”
    â€œYou are not part of our family.” Jacob was almost shouting now.
    â€œYour sister’s child is missing,” Antony continued diplomatically, “and we simply wanted to find out if you knew anything about it.”
    â€œI didn’t even know Rebecca was married.” Naomi’s mouth curved in a slight smile.
    â€œYou cold-hearted—” Jacob had had enough. “Where is Victor?” he demanded. “Where is the baby?” He started to lunge toward the conniving woman—he no longer thought of her as his sister—but Marcellus held him back.
    Jacob was angry enough to throttle her, and Naomi must have realized it. She blanched and took a step backward.
    â€œCalm down,” she said, “and I’ll tell you what you want to know.”
    The slave who had let them in suddenly reappeared in the doorway. Naomi said, “It’s all right, Lepidus. You may wait in the other room. If I need you, I’ll call.” The tall, well-built man bowed almost imperceptibly toward his mistress, then backed out of the room.
    â€œStart talking,” Jacob said. He shook off Marcellus’s restraining hand, nodding to indicate he had himself under control.
    Naomi sat down, carefully arranged the folds of her skirt, and took a deep breath. For the first time, Jacob realized that she was not quite as collected as she had first appeared. Beneath the cool surface, she was deeply troubled.
    â€œYou’re right,” she said. “I do know what happened.” When Jacob gave her another murderous look, she quickly added, “The baby is not here. But I can assure you that he’s safe and well cared for.”
    The news that Victor was all right brought Jacob a bit of relief, but it raised as many questions as it answered. “Where is he? Who took him? Who has him now?”
    Again, Marcellus put a friendly hand on Jacob’s shoulder and squeezed, urging him to slow down. “You can imagine how worried Rebecca is,” Marcellus said to Naomi. “Please tell us where we can find the child, and we won’t disturb you any longer.”
    She did not look at Marcellus but continued staring at her brother. “That information will cost you.”
    Cost me? Jacob wondered. He should have known that whatever information Naomi had, it would come at a price. He started to verbally assault her, then held back, gritting his teeth in frustration. The important thing was getting Victor