Blood Relics (A James Acton Thriller, #12) by J Robert Kennedy

was already baptized by the blood and water of Jesus himself, but when
Peter and the others gathered had suggested it, all four of them had jumped at
the opportunity, their desire to be closer to God and his Son irresistible.
    He
stepped to the shore, helped by the others, his robes heavy and dripping from
the water, but he didn’t care. This was a joyous occasion in which the troubles
of the past few weeks were forgotten. They had hidden with some of the
followers of Jesus, shedding their armor and donning the clothes of peasants,
hiding in the homes and camps of followers while the family and disciples of
Jesus left to visit with the resurrected rabbi.
    He had
longed to see the man, to thank him, but knew this privilege of reunification
should be reserved for those closest to him.
    The man had
done enough.
    He had
saved him.
    And now
he was determined to spread his word.
    Should
he survive.
    The rabbis
of Jerusalem had issued an unofficial warrant for him, for they had no power
over a Roman soldier. The whispered word was that they wanted his head
delivered to them, on a platter.
    He was
sure they’d settle for his guaranteed silence on what he had testified to that
day in the synagogue.
    Word was
spreading about the crucifixion of this innocent man and the miracle of his
resurrection, but so too was the lie that his body had merely been stolen.
Those who had witnessed the miracles were unwavering in their belief, and their
steadfastness was inspiring others to the cause, today there a long line of
people awaiting their own chance at baptism by one of the closest friends of
the Messiah.
    He took
a seat on a large rock, lying back and letting the midday sun beat down on him,
drying his skin and clothes as the celebrations continued around him. As he lay
there, the wide smile slowly began to wane as the reality of his situation made
its presence known once again.
    He was
in danger.
    But that
was of no concern to him. If he died today, he would die content, without fear
for he now knew what awaited him. He had led a basically good life and any of
his transgressions had been forgiven when Jesus had given up his spirit and
performed this one last miracle, restoring the sight to an aging man.
    “Something
vexes you.”
    Longinus
opened his eyes and shaded them from the sun with a hand. John—the new son of the Messiah’s mother, Mary—stood in front of him. He frowned. “I’m a
danger to you all.”
    “We’re
all a danger to each other, that is the very nature of our existence. The word
of our Lord is perceived as dangerous to those who would rule over us, whether
they be the rabbis who ignore the proof that he is the prophesized one, or the
Romans who would merely oppress us to feed their evil empire. The life of a
follower of the word of our teacher isn’t an easy one, nor should it be chosen
lightly.” He paused. “I thought you of all people would know that. Do you
regret what you have done here today?”
    Longinus
felt a flutter in his stomach at John’s words. He pushed himself up to a seated
position, shaking his head vehemently. “No! Not at all! I wouldn’t change a
single thing I’ve done since that day, but it is I that is specifically
hunted by name.” He stood, looking at the gathered throng, still rejoicing in
the events unfolding. “Should they come for me and find you with me, you all
may be arrested…or worse.” He sighed, placing a hand on John’s shoulder. “I
fear I must leave you all.”
    Albus
walked up to them, concern on his face. “What’s wrong?”
    It was
John that replied. “He’s leaving us.”
    Though
Longinus hadn’t quite said the words, it was clear John agreed with the
sentiment and knew his mind was already made up. It was time to leave these
good people so they might be safe. Their lives would be hard enough without him
adding to their troubles.
    “But
why! You’re one of us, we’re now one of them! Why would you turn your
back on them?”
    Longinus
placed his free