My Master

by Aleera Anaya Ceres

  My Master

  A Blood Novel

  Aleera Anaya Ceres

  The war with the Rogues has ended, Damien is gone, Esmeralda finally knows who she is and more importantly, she can finally be with Antonio. Unfortunately, for him, it isn’t that easy. Still suffering from the death of his brother, Antonio loses himself in his nightmares that cause him to relive that dreadful moment. The deeper he digs himself into his guilty past, the more he pushes Ezzy away. And if that weren’t bad enough, their best friend, Isis, has gone missing and they fear that the fate of the human race depends on her.

  Isis’s creator has come back to haunt her, kidnapping her and forcing her to join his war—a war that may end humanity as they know it. Her disappearance leads Ezzy and Antonio on a wild goose chase in an attempt to find her. Secrets are uncovered that, in times of darkness, test ones abilities, teaching them who they really are. Will the search for Isis bring Esmeralda and Antonio closer together? Or tear these Soul Mates apart for good?

  This book is a sequel to Blood Drug and was previously published in 2018 and has since been revised. It is a full length Urban Fantasy/Paranormal Romance novel.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Epilogue

  A Time to Repent

  About the Author

  Also by Aleera Anaya Ceres

  My Master

  Copyright © 2020, Aleera Anaya Ceres

  Cover Art by Moorbooks Design

  Warning: All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and occurrences are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places or occurrences, is purely coincidental.

  1

  Sunset was always fascinating to him. The way the last rays shone against his caramel tan skin, casting orange shadows, warm yet oddly familiar. But Antonio knew this was a dream because, being a vampire, the sunlight, even as slight as the sunset, would burn his skin and he would turn into ashes. Ashes and dust. This was a dream; he knew that and repeated it to himself as he watched the sky bleed red downwards, watching a sunset he could never see.

  He held his arms out, enjoying the feel of the heat, relishing it for he knew that when he woke up, it would be forgotten. He wouldn’t be able to step outside when the sun was highest in the sky. He would be asleep during that time, much like he was now, forever dreaming of what he could never see for himself.

  He tried pushing such thoughts away from his mind for the moment and only stared at the beauty set before his eyes. There was something about standing on a rooftop that was sort of liberating for him. He often sat on rooftops; it was the best way to think; the closest he could ever be to the sky.

  That is, if he didn’t count Esmeralda. But she was more than just the sky. She was everything. The stars, the heavens, the planets, everything mysterious and phenomenal in the world and she was the dearest thing held in his life.

  “Hello, brother.” The voice that spoke startled him out of his thoughts, it was a voice not unlike his own; deep and rich and thickly accented. He turned around in surprise as he stared into his own face.

  “Damien,” Antonio reached his hand out to his twin brother but let it drop. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen his brother. Had it been a year ago? Five months? A few weeks? He couldn’t be exactly sure, but he knew it must have been a long time. The shock of seeing him squeezed at his chest, making it contract in a painful manner.

  It was like looking into a mirror at himself, the shock and familiarity of seeing him was almost enough to make him want to drop to his knees.

  Damien smiled a smile that reminded Antonio of their differences. Antonio took a good look at his brother. His hair was slicked back with gel and he was wearing one of those Armani suits that he seemed to like so much.

  His smile was forced.

  “How are you, brother?” Antonio managed to choke out. It had been so long—too long—since he had seen his brother. He missed him even though they hadn’t gotten along since their mother had died.

  Damien shrugged, the movement was almost mechanical in a way. “I don’t know,” he said. “I’m dead, remember?” And in one swift, slow motion he pulled out a long thin dagger that seemed so familiar to Antonio, and he used it to slit his own throat. The blade cut across his flesh easily and in that instant, memories came flooding back to Antonio; him, Damien, the knife that didn’t just slit his throat, but actually severed head from body.

  He’d dreamt this dream before. The settings were always different; an empty kitchen, a crowded street, Santiago Enterprises, and now, the rooftop. But the dream was just most of the same. Damien, gripping the knife until his knuckles whitened and using it to slit his own throat.

  But it wasn’t just a dream. It wasn’t the sort of dream he could wake up from, laugh off. Because this, this had truly happened.

  Damien was dead.

  “No!” Antonio dropped to his knees and tried to tell himself it was just a dream and watched as Damien’s blood rolled red down his neck, watching the brother he would never again see.

  Antonio shot up in bed and fought back the urge to scream. Not again, he pleaded. Not this dream again. He ran a hand over his face then looked at the spot on the bed next to him. Esmeralda stirred restlessly in her sleep, probably picking up his bad vibes. He knew she couldn’t be having nightmares. Her nightmares had long since faded. He fought to control his emotions but found it hard to do. Lately he had been dreaming more and more about the events that had happened two years ago and they had started to torture him.

  Esmeralda had begun to notice. I mean, he thought, how couldn’t she? We’re Soul Mates for Christ’s sake. He was becoming better at masking his emotions but Ezzy knew him too well, and she always knew what was wrong with him. He looked at her now. Her hair was a mixture of dark red, brown, and gold, silk-like strands sprawled across the pillows. She looked thinner and there were dark circles under her eyes. She was worn out, more than usual, and he couldn’t help but feel like it was his fault. Actually, it was his fault.

  Feeling like complete and utter shit, he got out of bed as quietly as he could, careful not to wake Ezzy, and walked out of the room that they shared, closing the door behind him.

  The room used to be Ignacio’s and Katheryn’s, Ezzy’s parents and his best friends. They had died years ago, attacked by Rogue vampires for creating the cure for the Blood Drug addiction.

  It wasn’t until two years ago that they had found out that Damien Santiago, Antonio’s twin brother, had been behind the Rogue attacks. He had tried to change Esmeralda and kill Antonio but Antonio killed him before he had gotten the chance.

  Antonio instinctively reached for the thick scar around his neck. It was jagged and angry, as was the intention behind it. Damien had almost attempted to slice his head off, twice. Luckily, he had f
ailed the first time. The second time he had almost died. Antonio had an ‘Otherworld’ experience, where he had met with the ghost of his deceased mother who had told him to help both Ezzy and Damien.

  Luckily, he had made it to them just in time because Damien was just about to turn Ezzy into a vampire. Antonio had felt no greater threat in his life than he had felt at that moment. He had no choice but to kill his own brother.

  The memory still haunted him.

  Sluggishly, he made his way down the hall, stairs, and into the living room, where he threw himself down on the couch. It was practically light outside; he knew this without having to move aside the thick curtains from the windows. Being a Natural Born Vampire, he knew when the sun was out, it’s exact position sometimes, if he concentrated hard enough he could guess the exact hour. And being a vampire, he should have been dead asleep. The sun had that effect on him and so, his being awake at that time was rare. Then again, everything about him was rare.

  Starting with the thick white scar encircling his neck.

  It was thicker than it had been before, and he had his brother to thank for that. Sometimes, the scar would pulse and glow and sting even though it had long since been healed. The feeling only made him crave more blood than usual. Ever since his “accident” he’d had to drink three times more blood than the average vampire and that still couldn’t satisfy his need.

  Ezzy had offered, more than once, her blood to him. She knew that fresh human blood, taken directly from the neck of your Soul Mate was the greatest pleasure for a vampire. But, he couldn’t. He feared if he started, he would continue and never be able to stop. For now, he stuck to his synthetic pills. They would suffice.

  Antonio rubbed a hand along his scar and winced.

  “Antonio?”

  He jumped, startled, and turned. “Esmeralda!”

  She was in front of him, wearing nothing but shorts and a small tank top. Her hair was in disarray down her shoulders and her face was full of concern.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  He tried to look neutral. “Yeah,” he lied. “I’m fine. What are you doing out of bed?”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and even though she could sense he was lying she didn’t pry. “I just sensed you were gone and got a little lonely, is all.” She tried to smile but it wavered.

  Ezzy went into a fit of coughing, it sounded as if she had something stuck to the back of her throat. She turned to run but barely made it to the steps when she doubled over and vomited all over the floor.

  Antonio was at her side in an instant, holding her hair back.

  “Oh, my God.” Ezzy whispered. “I can’t believe I just did that. Don’t worry, I’ll clean it up.” She began to walk away but Antonio pulled her into his chest.

  “I’ll clean it up, querida,” he whispered, gathering her into his arms. She sighed and leaned her head into his chest. Almost instantaneously, she was asleep. Antonio smiled and, careful to step over her vomit, carried her back up the stairs and into their bedroom. Placing her gently on the bed, he pulled the covers over her and bent down to kiss her forehead. She was still as he kissed her, fortunately. Quickly, he cleaned up the mess she made with little effort. After having washed himself off, he went back to lie next to Ezzy. Her eyes peeked opened and she smiled. Her voice was scratchy when she spoke.

  “Hey, you.”

  Antonio smiled. “Hey to you, too.”

  “Sorry about that.”

  “Don’t,” he said. “If anything I’m the one that should be sorry. It’s my fault you’re getting sick, I know it.”

  She opened her mouth to protest but he silenced her by putting a finger to her lips. “Let’s just get some sleep, okay? Focus on getting better.”

  She smiled. “Okay.”

  He kissed her on the forehead and they snuggled close together. In minutes they were both asleep and Antonio could only hope that he wouldn’t dream.

  2

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Esmeralda asked her for the umpteenth time.

  Isis sighed, loudly. “Yes, God, I told you this. Worry about yourself, okay? It sounds like you’re coming down with the flu.” Isis kept the phone pressed between her ear and her shoulder as she flipped through stacks of papers trying to concentrate on her work. She had been foolish to think she could have gotten any work done with her phone on.

  Ezzy called and distracted her, going on and on about how awful she felt. Only after she had finished complaining did she notice the edge in Isis’s voice, and wouldn’t stop asking if Isis was okay.

  She wasn’t okay.

  It started a few weeks ago while Isis was out for a midnight stroll; she had felt a weird prickling sensation down the base of her neck. Her predator senses had kicked in and made her alert. Someone was following her. Quickly, she scoured the area but there was no one, and the feeling was gone.

  Two days after the incident was gone and forgotten she received a package in the mail. She had opened it and wanted to scream. Inside the box was a necklace, simple enough to the common viewer but different because she could smell it and she could smell him on it. A necklace with colors of gold and black, thick with stones made of bone and marble. A necklace fit for Cleopatra herself.

  She wanted to throw it out. Instead, she locked it away in the safe.

  The next day she received a letter ‘Ready or not!’ She ripped up the note and burned it. One the third day, she went to buy herself some food—Made Vampires could still somewhat tolerate human food and she had been craving chocolate cake—so she drove to a café and sat down to order.

  As soon as the waitress left, she felt a pair of eyes on her. Isis glanced across the street and saw him, leaning against a brick wall with his hands in his pockets.

  He looked like she remembered, with shorter dark hair, thick eyebrows that probably would have looked comical on anyone else, but he had made it work. His eyes were a light yellow caramel color, his face dark and his posture as menacing as ever. He saw her staring and smiled.

  His smile was light and care-free, but it chilled her to the bone. A car passed by, blocking her view of him, and when it was gone, so was he.

  Isis began to work, tearing through every record she could find, searching for that one name that meant so much to her, the name that had haunted her and kept her in hiding for so many years. She had yet to find it. Why search for the name she had already memorized? She just needed to see it, to feel the reality of it.

  “Are you listening to me?”

  Isis snapped out of her reverie. “No. What?”

  Esmeralda sighed. “I said it’s not the flu.”

  “I bet it is.” Isis flipped through more papers, recognizing none of the names she saw.

  “I’ve had the flu before; I can assure you that this isn’t it.”

  Isis made an exasperated sound. “I guess you’d know your body better than I would, right?” she said sarcastically. “I mean, you’ve only gotten sick sooo many times, right? I wouldn’t know the symptoms.” She thumbed through more papers.

  There was a pause on the other end of the line. Then, “Isis, are you sure you’re okay? You sound agitated…”

  Isis didn’t really feel bad for snapping at her best friend. She always did that. She went and played out in the rain—after many fair warnings—and swore up and down she wouldn’t get sick. A day or two later, she’d be sick.

  “I’m fine, all right? I’m just doing some work. Hey, isn’t Antonio with you?”

  Esmeralda sighed again. “No, sadly. He went to see his dad at S.E.”

  Isis nodded even when Esmeralda couldn’t see it.

  Santiago Enterprises was perhaps one of the biggest businesses in the world, vampire wise. It was the main distributor of Synthetic Blood, a clever little invention for those vampires that didn’t want to drink from humans. The company recently started distributing a cure for the disease that Rogue vampires acquired while taking the Blood Drug—a powerful blood toxin that had a very dan
gerous effect on a vampire’s craving and personality (not to mention health).

  Esmeralda’s parents had invented the cure and hid it well before they died. Only after taking off the memory block from Ezzy’s mind had they been able to find the cure and use it for, as Ezzy would say, the better. It was only recently that they had sold the cure to S.E. and split the earnings equally. Even though Antonio didn’t care much for the business—seeing as he had his own mechanic shop—it was his duty to talk with his dad and make negotiations.

  “What time will he be back?”

  “I don’t know.” Ezzy sounded a little sad. “Soon, I hope. I can’t stand being here alone.”

  Isis tossed the stack she was working on to the side and pulled out different files and began searching through those. “Why don’t you go out and see a movie or something?” she suggested.

  Esmeralda brightened up. “There is this one movie I’ve been wanting to see.”

  “See? Go have fun but be careful. And call me if anything bad happens.” Isis stopped on a file that didn’t have a photo. She scanned the page for a name. When she found it, her heart dropped, the memories that had never truly left her resurfaced.

  “Thanks, Isis. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

  “Yeah, later. Oh, and Esmeralda?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I love you.”

  There was a pause on the other end. “I love you, too.”

  Isis hung up and pocketed her phone as she stared at the name. The face of the person it belonged too came to her mind so easily. Memories of an ancient time in Egypt came back to her in almost an instant. Her hands trembled slightly as she set the file down on the desk, away from her in a manner that was so careful, one would have thought it would explode. Then, Isis whispered the one name that she never thought she’d have to say aloud.