The elevator dinged and opened. Maria stepped out first; Antonio pulled Esmeralda with him, wrapping his arm around her waist protectively. “The files are locked away down this hall.”
They followed Maria past various closed doors, only nodding at the occasional vampire that passed by them.
A lone door was locked tight at the end of the hall. Maria stepped forward and punched in a combination on the panel next to it. There was a hiss and a click and she reached out, turning the doorknob open. She welcomed them inside.
The room was dark and nearly empty, save for metal file cases pushed up against each other all over the room, neatly coded alphabetically and some chronologically. Maria flipped a switch and a light came on, swinging back and forth on the ceiling, illuminating the darkness.
“Guess we should get started.” Maria made her way to the file cases, unlocking them with a key that she had retrieved from her pocket.
“How are these things sorted, anyway?” Esmeralda parted from Antonio’s side to look through the files.
“Alphabetically, by last name, some of them are organized by dates.”
“Okay, so what’s Isis’s last name?” Antonio asked, feeling rather stupid for doing so. He had known Isis for years and had no idea what her last name was. He looked to Ezzy for help.
She shook her head. “Don’t look at me, she never told me.”
Maria exhaled with exasperation and pulled out files at random, opening them and looking through them. “Well, she’s not in here under ‘Isis.’”
“Does this mean we have to look through every single file until we find her name?” Esmeralda sat on the floor and held her hands out. “We might as well get started. Hand me a stack.”
“There must be an easier way to do this.” Antonio stepped forward, taking the key from Maria and opening the ‘dates’ files. “Isis came here and entered the coven about sixteen years ago, correct?”
“Yeah,” Maria sat next to Ezzy, handing her a bunch of yellow folders to search through.
“Why don’t we just look back that far and see how many people were allowed into the coven in that year and we’ll find her name. It’s easier that way.” He dug into a drawer and pulled out some files himself. He set them on top of the cabinets and opened them, skimming through them at a slow pace, drawing in every detail. He began reading off names, “Antoine, Juliet; Antoine, Desdemona; sisters. Emilio, Borthos; Tristian, Natalia…what the hell?” He skimmed through more pages, swore, and then threw them to the floor. “Not a single document on Isis!”
“Are you guys sure it was sixteen years ago?” Ezzy crossed her legs and began opening the first folder, looking at the name, frowning, and then moved to the second one, repeating the process.
“No doubt,” Maria said.
“I remember it clearly—it was sixteen years ago.” Antonio nodded.
“Okay, so we don’t know Isis’s last name and we know that she positively came here sixteen years ago—well, if that’s the case then why the hell isn’t she in those files?” Esmeralda tossed the files to the side and looked up at the brother and sister.
“She should be in here, though.” Antonio scratched at his head. “Every member of the coven should be—unless—”
“Isis was never a part of the coven.” They turned to the doorway at the voice and gasped when Marco Santiago stepped through, the door closing with a click behind him.
Antonio tensed up at the sight of his father in his expensive tux, his thick curls combed to the side, his black eyes staring at his son. It was Esmeralda who spoke, “What do you mean Isis was never part of the coven? What are you talking about, Mr. Santiago?” She stood up and stared at him in disbelief.
“Let us talk about this somewhere else.”
“No,” Antonio said, standing up straighter, that old defiance returning to his voice. “You will tell us now. This is not a game, Isis is missing and we need to find her.”
Marco sighed and gripped the edge of his nose with two fingers. “I know that she is missing.”
“Well, do you know who took her?” Ezzy asked, rushing over to him and gripping his shirtfront. He pressed his hands to hers and pushed them away, gently, staring at her with sad eyes.
“It is all very complicated…” his voice was gruff.
Antonio felt a vein in his forehead pop, his annoyance grew. He was tired of everyone around him giving him riddles and not being straightforward about anything. For once, he wanted the complete truth. He stepped forward with clenched fists. “Bullshit!” he yelled, causing Maria to flinch beside him. “It’s only complicated if you choose to make it complicated! I want the truth, father, and I want it now. Starting with everything you know about Isis…starting from the beginning…”
12
“But, you are beautiful” Caesareon pulled Isis into his arms and held her tightly. She pushed him away without hesitation, hating the hardness of his body pressed against her, and hating that controlling adoration shining in his yellow eyes. She hated it all, knowing it was all a big old lie.
Isis crossed her arms over her chest, as if that could hide her from him, because she knew it wouldn’t. She glowered at him, but he only looked at her with bitter amusement. His yellow eyes, for a brief moment, were swallowed by the darkness of his pupils.
“You will stand through this meeting,” he commanded. “And bear witness silently, understood?”
Without meaning too, Isis nodded, once again having no control over her body.
Caesareon smiled. “Very good,” he said, clapping his hands together then he leaned down and pressed his cold lips to Isis’s, forcing his tongue past her lips. She opened up to him, despite her mind’s cries of protest. His finger’s entwined through her dark hair, pulling out her ponytail and letting it fall in a waterfall down her shoulders. He pulled her face closer to his, until their noses touched and his touch turned icier.
Isis felt disgusted, even though she had no control over herself, she couldn’t help but feel repulsed, dirty; especially when her fingers wrapped around the back of his neck, fingering the hair that curled there.
He broke the kiss, placing his hands on her shoulders and pushing her away gently. She could only stare blankly at him, not even overpowering his hold to muster up a glare. He smiled in a triumphant manner at her, knowing that he had hit her where it hurt.
A buzzing erupted. Caesareon pulled a phone out of his pocket and answered it, never once taking his eyes from Isis’s. “What?” he growled into the phone. A voice on the other end sounded—male? Isis couldn’t be sure. The voice sounded too high pitched to be male, but too deep to sound female, and it was oddly familiar, nagging at the back of her brain for some peculiar reason. “Yes, I am starting the meeting as we speak.” He paused as the voice said something on the other line. “Yes, the one that escaped is with me and under control…” Another pause. Caesareon’s face went to a frown and he growled deeper into the phone. “Just do what I’ve assigned you to do! Go into that police station and do your job!”
Police station? Isis wondered in confusion.
“Get all of them out,” Caesareon said. “We need as many as we can get.” And without a goodbye, he hung the phone up and pocketed it. “Sorry for the interruption, my dearest Warrior.” He moved to her side and as if by some unknown instinct, she placed her hand on his forearm, which he had held up to her, and he led her up to dark red curtains. “Just one of my people, gathering more troops for us.”
Isis wanted to open her mouth, to say something to him, to question him, at least, but even that seemed impossible. He moved aside the curtain with his free hand and gestured her through first. She stepped out into darkness and then a yellow circular light shone on her. She had the urge to squint her eyes against the sudden brightness, but couldn’t.
Caesareon followed her, and another light shone on him. It wasn’t until she glanced forward did she notice they were on some sort of stage, in front of an audience of vampires. Releasing her hand, Caesareo
n stepped forward, the light remaining on him as he did so. The vampires in the audience—about a hundred, as far as Isis could tell—clapped and cheered for him.
The amount of vampires in the place surprised Isis. She honestly hadn’t been expecting to see that many followers. Though, not all of them were vampires, she noticed werewolves and a few half-demons as well.
She shuddered inwardly and watched off to the side as Caesareon lifted a hand, causing the whole room to go quiet at the same time. “Vampires,” he started, his voice booming, echoing and bouncing across the walls as he spoke. “Werewolves, Halflings, my Brethren, it brings me great joy to see you all together—united—by my side, against the common enemy.” There were cheers and applauses all around. “All of our efforts and hard work, all of the sweat and blood and lives lost have been leading up to this; to this one moment, and you all know what moment I am referring to.” There were whistles and cries, letting him know that they did. She could almost feel him smiling at them. He held his hand up and they silenced. “Revolution, my disciples! We have waited years for this! We have lived in the shadows of humans for far too long, and now, I say, we take this world as ours!”
Isis admired the way in which he spoke his words, with such a deep passion that made her want to believe in him, despite everything he had put her through. But, logical thought shook that craziness out of her and she thought of her brother and she thought of her mother, and she knew, by that passion in Caesareon’s voice, that he wouldn’t stop until he achieved his goal. He wouldn’t stop until he burned every human to the ground and rose up from their ashes as ruler of the world.
“This is our time! It is time we took what is rightfully ours from the humans and show them where their true place is—beneath us!” More shouts, more cheers, more maniacs crying out for Caesareon.
“Put your faith in me, for I do not disappoint. Put your faith in me because my armies will lead us to success. We will force the world from the hands of humans!” His voice had risen to a crescendo, taking on an almost musical hint to it. “My armies are gathering as we speak and there is only one chosen one that will lead them into battle.” He turned to Isis, looking her in the eyes. His pupils did that funny thing again, and she felt herself obeying his silent commands, walking to him, placing her hand delicately into his own. “Isis will lead our armies into victory,” he said, a little more quietly than before. His voice seemed hushed, but at the same time it was loud enough to be heard. He then shot Isis a look; his pupils dilating, indicating that she step forward and give a few words.
Isis didn’t know what to say, vile angry words popped into her mind, but when she tried to open her mouth to yell them, they wouldn’t even slip past her throat. It seemed her ability to speak had been taken from her, but she was able to move her head, back and forth, looking around the crowds of creatures before her. She gazed at them intently and as she did, they sucked in a breath and waited—for what, though, she wasn’t sure.
And then the words came to her, fire igniting her mind. The words were not angry, nor supportive of his cause, but she spoke the truth when she said them. It was a warning.
“Many deem this war impossible, hell, it should be impossible. It would be hard to believe that us, a group of races that are so scarce, could rush into bloody battle with mortals. Yes, they know our weaknesses and they can use it against us,” as she said this, she looked at Caesareon, and he stared back.
“They know the weapons of war, and they know us. Yet I know them, and I know how they feel, I know of human emotions—emotions much like our own—they are driven by some sort of intensity that neither you nor I can even begin to fathom. You can expect us to go in there and take it for ourselves, but before you do, you should know…” She looked out into the audience, her gaze burning deeply and she could tell that they saw it in her eyes, because they edged backwards, as if she would go crazy and jump off the stage only to rip their throats out. “The humans will fight back…”
Inclining her head, Isis stepped back so that her back was touching the curtains. There was a whooshing silence in the small theatre, the kind of silence that made you want to drop a feather and listen to it clink to the ground. She felt as though no one was breathing, holding their breath and staring at Isis then at Caesareon, waiting for his reaction.
She could tell that her warning had startled him, but he kept his eyes unreadable for the crowd. It was a sign of weakness to show emotions, she knew he thought this way and was disappointed when he turned back to the crowd, clapping his hands slowly, until one by one, the audience joined in, starting off slow and building up until it was all she could hear; the roaring sound of applause.
“Beautiful words of warning, Isis. She is right! The humans will try to fight against us, and I will tell you now that we are stronger and we will not fail! Their fight is unnecessary and useless, because, despite their ‘knowledge’ they cannot win, for our powers are greater.
“So I ask you, will you put your faith in me and join me in battle?” As an answer there were cheers and applause. Caesareon smiled victoriously. “My armies are being gathered as we speak, and I can assure you, you will all be rewarded graciously for your loyalty.” He took a slight bow and turned around, pulling Isis with him behind the curtains while a commotion started behind them.
As soon as they were behind the curtains, Isis felt his hold on her waver then shatter, and she was herself again. She flexed her fingers at her sides and rolled her neck. It felt good to be in control of her own movements. She hated that feeling she got when he controlled her. It was like she was hollow inside, and strings were tied to her limbs, pulling her in every direction that she hated.
“You did better than I thought you would.” Caesareon beamed.
Isis scowled at him. “It’s not like I was going to jump off the stage and do back flips or some crazy shit like that. I know how to give speeches, I’ve given them before.”
He looked amused. “Ah, yes. I recall a particular speech of yours that I quite enjoyed. You mentioned something about loyalty and cowardice in it.”
Isis said nothing, mainly because she couldn’t remember what speech he was talking about. Usually she remembered everything about her past, no matter how hard she tried to forget it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, yes, I nearly forgot. You weren’t the one who gave me that speech, it was someone who looks a lot like you, I remember now. It was a rather endearing speech; maybe he can recite it to you sometime, if you care to meet him?”
Isis waved him off with a flick of her hand, turning to look away from him, she said, “I have no interest in meeting any of your friends.”
Caesareon gripped her chin and pulled it to the side so that she was staring back into his golden eyes, now flecked with small specks of red. “He is not just my friend,” said Caesareon. “But an acquaintance of yours as well; I think you’ll find that you and he have much in common.”
Isis shook her head and moved his hand from her face. “I think you’ll find that that’s where you are wrong.”
13
“Start from the beginning…”
It was an odd sight for Ezzy, seeing Marco Santiago sit cross legged on the floor, next to her and Maria and Antonio. She had never seen him sitting in a chair, much less on the floor, and his movements were so casual and so precise when he began to gesture at the start of his story, she could only pay attention and grasp on to every word he said as if they were a life line to help her get to Isis.
“First I will tell you this: I was sworn to secrecy, so everything I say here will have to stay between us, understood?”
Antonio snorted. “Not if it endangers Isis’s life. If there’s someone else we need to tell in order to save her, then by God, we’ll do it.”
Marco sighed and continued, “I met Isis years ago, sixteen, to be exact. I had just finished my work here at the office and I was walking outside, unescorted, when I saw her. She was in sweatpants and an oversize
d T-shirt; her hair was wild and she was out of breath; it looked as though she had just run a marathon.
“She approached me, uncertainty in her stride, and when she reached me she asked, ‘Are you Marco Santiago, head of the Santiago vampire coven?’ I stared at her for a moment, wondering if she were a homeless vampire, or worse, on the Blood Drug. I nodded and told her that I was. She seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, but her tone was still serious and urgent just the same. ‘I need protection,’ she told me.”
“Protection from what, exactly?” Maria leaned forward, obviously way more interested in the situation now than she had been earlier.
“She told me that she had escaped from her creator, who was in an entirely different country. She said she feared he would come for her and she had no doubt in her mind that he would find her; but that she couldn’t keep running. Isis wanted protection from him, and that she could only find the protection she sought from within a vampire coven.”
“But why was she running from her creator?” Ezzy asked, confused.
“And why you, of all people?” Antonio asked, a note of bitterness lacing his words.
“We all know that only a Natural Born vampire can create other vampires, correct?” They all nodded. “Well, this vampire—Isis’s creator—was a particularly old vampire, an ancient one. He was one of the first to ever exist, I believe. His name is Caesareon…”
Ezzy mulled the name over in her mind for a second, hoping to find some familiarity with it, but she came up blank. She didn’t recognize the name; she had never known anyone with that name, to be honest.
“He traveled the world, searching for humans he thought could benefit him and he’d change them and take them away with him. Isis said that he keeps them hidden and fills their minds with poison about humans being low life scum. What he basically does is create an army.
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