Cursed in the Blood: A Catherine LeVendeur Mystery Read Online Free PDF Page A

anxiety all evening and wasn’t to be put off any longer.
    “How dreadful for your brother to have to come all this way bearing such sorrow,” she opened, still sitting up. “The loss must be devastating to you.”
    Edgar nuzzled his forehead against her thigh.
    “So awful I can’t bear to think of it,” he mumbled.
    She ran her hand through his hair.
    “Yes, I understand that,” she said. “We’ll all pray for their souls and I’ll write Mother Heloise, asking that the nuns add their prayers.”
    He raised his head. “I hadn’t thought of doing that. Would you?”
    Catherine smiled. “Of course. Now, Edgar, tell me the rest. I know your brother didn’t come only to bring this news, however disastrous for your family.”
    Edgar saw that feigning sleep wouldn’t work. He decided on an alternate route of distraction. Catherine’s fingers tightened, pulling painfully on his hair before he could get very far. She slid down on the bed until they faced each other.
    “I love you,” she said quietly. “But before I show you how much, you have to tell me. These deaths were part of a blood feud, weren’t they? Who does he want you to help kill?”
    Edgar rolled over onto his back. Catherine could feel his anger but wasn’t sure if it were at her or the situation. He was quiet so long, she wasn’t sure if he would answer. Finally he swallowed and she understood that he had been trying to control his voice.
    “No one knows,” he said. “And it doesn’t matter, not to me. They’ll have to fight their own battles; I won’t leave you.”
    Catherine moved against him. She had interesting curves to nuzzle with, he reflected anew. She waited until she was sure his attention wasn’t on anything she was saying, but he heard it anyway.
    “You don’t have to,” she whispered. “James and I will come, too.”
    He decided the argument could wait until morning.
     
    Catherine and Edgar were still sound asleep when Hubert was awakened abruptly by his nephew, Solomon ben Jacob.
    “Uncle!” Solomon whispered harshly. “Get up! Hurry! You must come with me at once.”
    Half-awake, Hubert’s heart leapt in panic. “What is it? Have they come for us?”
    “No, no,” Solomon answered. “I’m sorry. No, we are in no danger, at least I hope not. But Uncle Eliazar has had disturbing news. He sent me to bring you now. It can’t wait until daylight.”
    Hubert sagged back onto his bed. It took a moment to bring himself back to the present. He wasn’t a child any longer, but a man in his fifties. And the Soldiers of Christ weren’t at the door this time. It had been over forty years since they had broken in and dragged off his mother and sisters to their deaths while he hid in the cupboard. Forty years he had been a Christian, at least in the eyes of the world. But a sound in the night could still make him tremble. In every Easter sermon he could still hear the echoes of his mother’s screams.
    Solomon saw that Hubert’s hands shook as he dressed. He
cursed himself for being so thoughtless. There had been no overt persecution since he had been born, but Solomon knew the stories from the days of the Great Crusade. He also knew how tormented Hubert was for the sin of baptism and for staying alive.
    When Hubert was ready, they set off. They crossed the bridge over the Seine from the Grève to the Île de la Cité and felt their way down the dark and twisting streets of the old Juiverie to the house of Hubert’s brother, Eliazar.
    The gate was opened not by a servant, but by Eliazar’s wife, Johanna.
    “My poor Hubert!” she exclaimed softly. “We’ll find a way out, I promise we will!”
    Thoroughly frightened, Hubert followed her into the house and up the stairs to his brother’s hall. Eliazar was sitting by the cold hearth. A solitary candle lit a circle about him. On the table next to his stool was a wine pitcher and three cups. He set down his own empty cup as they entered.
    “Brother!” he cried and