Victoria sighed and shook her head sadly. When she looked at Esmeralda, there was pity in her eyes. “This video is solid evidence. Maybe Isis was never a victim, as you thought. Maybe she has been working with him this entire time.”
“Yeah, and maybe pigs can grow wings and shoot bacon out of their butts!” Esmeralda snapped. Antonio tried to hold onto her but she just pushed him off and pointed her finger inches from Victoria’s nose. “You don’t know Isis like I do! That wasn’t her. I don’t know who it was, or why anyone would do such a thing, but that’s not my best friend. It’s someone else.”
“Doubt it,” Terrance said from behind her. “Figure changing demons are a rarity that I’m guessing even Caesareon cannot afford.”
Esmeralda shot him a look of menace. “Don’t act like you know everything! What do you know about it?”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “I know more about rare demons that you do, fleshling.”
“And I’m telling you that I know more about Isis than any of you, and I’m telling you that that wasn’t her! She would never hurt anybody, do you understand?”
Victoria made a noise that was somewhere between a snort and a sigh. She turned to a few officers and without preamble barked her orders at them. “Please see to it that these four civilians are escorted off of the premises.” She turned to Esmeralda. “From what I’ve gathered these past few hours—is that you don’t know your best friend any more than we do.”
Esmeralda let out a pained cry in the back of her throat then turned on her heel and walked off. Maria tried guiding her out of there. Marco Santiago put his hand on the small of Antonio’s back and led him outside as well.
Esmeralda ducked under the caution tape, tearing off her hair net and gloves as she did so—they followed suit—, and ran over to one of the police vans and began kicking the side of it. “I…hate…cops!!!” She started punching the side of the van as well and Antonio noticed, with much surprise, that dents were starting to form on the side of it.
“Ezzy, stop!” He rushed over to her and pulled her back by the arm. She resisted and turned to him and hissed. He thought he saw her eyes flash vampire red but passed the idea off as insane, she was human; her eyes couldn’t change colors. Just as he thought this, her shoulders sagged in defeat and her eyes went to a lifeless blue.
“Just take me home, Antonio.” Tears ran down her face and fell off her chin.
Obediently, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and led her away. Maria and his father followed silently. Together, they hailed a cab and went home. Esmeralda fell asleep on the way over, leaning onto Antonio’s shoulder.
“The poor thing has been through a great deal,” his father said, staring at her sleeping form.
Antonio didn’t feel the need to back talk his father or to come up with a discourteous reply. He just looked the man in the eye and for once, the silence between them seemed to be all the communication that they needed in order to understand each other.
In the black eyes of Marco Santiago, Antonio saw the sadness. How could he have been so blind before so as not to see it there? Of course his father would be sad. He had lost his wife and son to death, his eldest was estranged, and was on the verge of losing another son to madness. He was desperately trying to make everything in his life right again and Antonio wouldn’t give him a chance.
I will change, Antonio promised himself. I will change for the sake of my father, for the sake of Maria and I swear I will change for the sake of Esmeralda. He smiled and shrugged at his dad then fixated his gaze on the road ahead.
Because she needs me now more than ever.
Esmeralda was still sleeping by the time they pulled up to the house. Antonio gripped her by the backs of the knees and her back and carried her to the front door. Funny, he hadn’t remembered her being this heavy. Maybe he was just tired.
Maria flounced by him to open the door and they all filed into the house. “Make yourselves at home,” Antonio ordered and bounded up the stairs and into their room, placing Ezzy on the bed. He took her shoes off and covered her up with a blanket. She moved around, it seemed as though her sleep would be restless tonight.
With a sigh he went downstairs. Maria and his father were sitting on the couch, a blank look in their eyes. The aura around the room was utter defeat, making Antonio feel like there was absolutely nothing left they could do for Isis.
“Do you guys want anything?” Any blood? They shook their heads, and he didn’t blame them. Just the thought of blood reminded him of the massacre, of Isis drinking from helpless humans, and it sickened his stomach into knots. He sat on a chair across from them and waited for someone to say something, anything.
“Maybe the police are right,” Maria finally said.
Antonio raised a brow in her direction. “About what, exactly?” he questioned.
Maria shrugged. “I don’t know? The whole thing with Isis, maybe she does want the world to fall or something. You saw the video; you have to accept the facts.”
Disbelief rang in his ears. “Tell me, Maria, how well did you know Isis?”
Maria’s brown eyes widened a fraction before she shrugged.
Antonio leaned back in his chair. “I do know her, very well, in fact. Just because I knew nothing about her past, doesn’t mean that I didn’t know about her, and that person in that video? That wasn’t her. I don’t care what anybody says, I know that Esmeralda is right. That wasn’t Isis; it was either someone who looked a hell of a lot like her or someone manipulating her.”
Maria only shook her head and crossed her arms against her chest. Antonio ignored her and met the gaze of his father, who seemed pensive for a moment before nodding his head. “I agree with Antonio.”
The admittance surprised him. He stared at his dad in disbelief.
“I watched the video closely and something seemed pretty off about the way she was behaving.”
“You mean the killing part and how that is totally not normal? Because we already know that…” It was Maria’s turn to offer up a sarcastic remark. Marco clicked his tongue in annoyance and continued as if she hadn’t even spoken.
“I mean, did you notice the facial expressions on everyone in the video? Caesareon looked like he was ecstatic, and proud. The other girl with the black hair? She looked happy to kill something. Everyone in the video looked happy or mad, or was expressing some sort of emotion—”
“—except for Isis,” Antonio finished for him, realization finally dawning. “Her face was completely blank when she started killing!”
Maria looked confused. “So?”
Antonio stood up. “So, when have we known Isis not to show emotion? Since I’ve known her, she has never once stopped herself from expressing herself. Whether it be boredom, annoyance, happiness, she always shows what she feels on her face.”
“Right,” his father chimed in. “And we’ve seen her in battle before, against the Rogues, remember when they came to the mansion?”
Antonio nodded. He had seen the way her eyes lit up in the battle, the fierceness of her bone structure, the way she rushed in to protect people, the way her eyes flashed…
Eyes flashing…
Then it clicked.
“You guys,” he whispered. “Can vampires control other vampires?”
“Only if you’re a Natural Born vampire, like us,” Maria stated, taking on a bored schoolteacher lecturing tone. “The Made vampires barely have any power to do anything, in a way they’re still part human.”
The clockwork in Antonio’s brain began moving rapidly as he began putting the pieces together. “Caesareon is a Natural Born vampire, right? One of the oldest there is; could it be possible that he’s strong enough to control Isis? And wouldn’t it just be easier since he’s the one that created her?” He began pacing the floor, feeling excitement as understanding dawned. “When he turned to give Isis the command I saw his eyes flash. It’s his tell, don’t you get it?”
His father jumped up too. “And if he were to cre
ate an army of vampire servants, it would be possible that he could control them as well…”
Antonio stopped in his tracks, swallowing the fear in his throat. “The cop said—” He broke off. “The cop said that tonight’s attack was nothing but a warning; imagine what else he could unleash.”
“Which means we have to warn agent Phillipe about what we think he’s planning.” His ran a hand through his stiff hair. Antonio could practically see the excitement radiating in him.
“And more importantly, we have to clear Isis’s name so that they won’t attack her or anything.”
Maria scoffed. “You guys, this is all very well, but we have no idea what Caesareon’s next move will be! How will we know where to find him? He could kill hundreds of people and by the time we find him it will have been too late.”
Antonio cursed. That was the real problem then, wasn’t it? Finding Caesareon wasn’t going to be a piece of cake. He wondered what the vampire’s next move would be, if he would attack another small group or something bigger this time.
“We may not know where he’s at, but we need to tell the cops anyway.” He turned to Maria. “I need you to watch over Ezzy for me.” Then he turned to his father. “And I need to know if you’d be willing to help me.”
Marco Santiago agreed.
17
Esmeralda was walking through a corridor, long and narrow, passing various closed and locked doors. The hallway seemed endless and scary, but sheer determination kept her running, trying to pry open every door she saw. She was looking for something, and she knew what it was, she only needed to know how to find it. No, not it: her. She could feel deep in her bones that Isis was in trouble, could hear Isis calling her name, calling for help. She needed to get to her, she needed to save her. She reached the end of the hall, to the last door. Taking a deep breath, Esmeralda twisted the knob, and the door swung open.
Darkness greeted her, but she didn’t feel afraid. Esmeralda stepped inside, only to fall into nothingness. Strange, how it didn’t feel like falling. Although she was aware that she was descending at a rapid pace, there was no crazy feeling in her stomach, no actual tangible velocity—all she felt was utter bliss. It wasn’t until she hit solid ground, slammed back into her senses, did she scream and slash out. She cried for her best friend, she cried for help.
Arms pinned her down and soft gentle hands wiped away her sweat matted hair from her forehead. The hands were dark and delicate, fingers long. There was a voice, singing to her in a different language, it was a slow song, one that she recognized immediately, same as the voice behind it; heavily accented and deep and rich. Esmeralda calmed instantly and he pulled her to his chest, singing into her hair.
He finished his song after a few moments and Esmeralda looked up into his eyes to thank him—and gasped. Antonio’s eyes were black, but this person that she was staring at, with his milk chocolate eyes and slicked back hair was not Antonio. She tensed and pushed him away, but his grip was tight, and he refused to let go.
“Esmeralda, wait,” he said, his voice soft and not at all angry. Esmeralda didn’t know what to do. She knew he would be able to hurt her, and she knew he was capable of it, but she asked herself if he would. She knew he’d only hurt her if she said something wrong, so she kept her mouth shut, stopped fighting, and stared at him. He sighed and loosened his hold on her. “I want to talk to you.” Esmeralda blinked at him. “I know you’re mad at me—”
Esmeralda pushed him away and scrambled away from him. Her mouth opened, gaping at him. “Mad at you?” she started incredulously. “I am not mad at you! I am completely, utterly, totally, entirely, irrevocably, absolutely and downright furious with you! You killed my parents, you tried to change me, Damien!”
Damien sighed and squeezed the bridge of his nose with two fingers. When he looked at her again, his brown eyes looked sad and, remembering what Antonio had told her, he’s a liar, Esmeralda was gripped with fury. What right did he have to look sad, even it was feigned? He was a crazy killer, he had sent Rogues to murder her parents and he would have murdered her, too. He almost killed his twin brother—twice—he had no reason to be sad.
“You have every right to hate me.” Damien said. “And you also have every reason to leave, wake up…ignore everything I have to tell you. But if you will please consider my proposal? I really do need to talk to you.”
Esmeralda studied him, but couldn’t see past the evil façade, couldn’t see any truth in him. She didn’t even know if he was capable of telling the truth. And he was right; she didn’t have to stay here and listen to him, she could leave and pretend it never happened, go back to the real world and help in the search of Isis, something of extreme importance. But, if Esmeralda was honest with herself, she was a little curious at what he wanted to talk about. Then again, she had no reason to trust him and she owed him nothing…
“Please, Esmeralda,” he pleaded.
Slowly, she nodded.
His eyes lit up and he smiled, but that expression faded as soon as it came and he sighed, bending his head down and looked at his opened palms; he said, “I have done things I am not exactly proud of,”
Esmeralda narrowed her eyes. “Really,” she spat. “Tell me more.”
Damien shot her an impatient look. “Please do not interrupt me; it’s very rude, you know.”
Feeling defiant, Ezzy replied, “Really? I thought that trying to kill people was rude.”
Damien clicked his tongue but continued as if she hadn’t even spoken. “I feel like I have wronged many people in my life, starting with you.” Esmeralda stared at him, wide eyed. “I know that no amount of apologizing could ever make up for what I robbed from you. I stole your childhood, your memories, I stole everything. And I wish it weren’t too late, but I needed to let you know how incredibly sorry I truly am for everything that I’ve done to you.”
She was at a loss for words. Damien, the man who had killed her parents, nearly killed Antonio and the creator of the Blood Drug was apologizing to her. He was right, though. No amount of apologizing would bring her parents back from the dead, and she wasn’t even sure if he was telling the truth. He did seem sincere, but he had seemed sincere about a lot of things.
“You killed my parents.” She felt tears prickle at the back of her eyelids.
“Yes.” There was no malice in his voice, no cruelty, only fact.
“You tried to kill your brother.”
“Also, yes.”
“You tried to take over the world with Rogue vampires.”
“Actually, no. Do not stoop me to Caesareon’s level. I never wanted power over the world; I only wanted power over a certain few.”
“But why would you do that? Everything you did, all of those people you murdered…it makes you just like him!”
“Esmeralda, can’t you see?” He scooted close to her. “I wanted power, yes, but only certain power over vampires and vampires only. I wanted our race to prosper, to come into terms with our full power. So I created the Blood Drug, it was supposed to help the weakest of us become stronger. Unfortunately, my plan did not function the way it was supposed to.
“The drug was not supposed to make them crave more blood; it wasn’t supposed to make them kill. But it had already happened, it had already spiraled uncontrollably and there was nothing I could do about it. I was blind, Esmeralda, so blind, I only wanted to help, but I lost sight of what it was doing to the world around me. I didn’t realize who I was hurting—not really—and once I had started I couldn’t stop. I was too close to success, too close…”
“I don’t understand you,” Esmeralda said. “First you’re really sweet, then you act like some evil overlord of darkness, and now you’re apologizing, saying you only wanted to make the vampire race better. What happened to you, Damien? What made you like this?”
Damien’s eyes darkened, and he stared at her blankly. It seemed he was recalling a distant memory, one that seemed to haunt him. He shook his head back and forth and when he looked at E
smeralda, there were tears in his eyes. “I had a Soul Mate,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “A vampire, a Natural Born vampire like my brothers and I, but she was weaker than most.” His voice was barely an echoed whisper, ghostly. “While everyone shunned her or looked down on her for being fragile, I loved her beyond oblivion and then…” He paused, choking on his words. Tears were streaming down his face, falling from his chin and onto his shirt.
Esmeralda couldn’t help but feel sad for him.
He took in a ragged breath and looked up at her; his eyes were a fiery red. “She died, my Soul Mate died. I cannot even begin to explain the hole that sucks out all of the feeling from one’s soul when their Soul Mate dies; it is the worst possible fate.”
And Esmeralda knew the feeling. Having seen Antonio’s body laying in his own blood, she knew what it was like, to feel like having the actual breath ripped from your lungs, feeling like you were drowning in nothing. But she didn’t feel the need to mention this—this wasn’t about her, this was about Damien, and the pain that she never knew he had. All of this explained so much that she never understood about him. Now she knew why he did what he did.
So Esmeralda did the last thing she ever thought she’d see herself doing. She hugged Damien, pulling him to her chest and burying his face there. She held him while he cried out all of the pain and anger of the years without feeling disgusted with him, or hating him, or being angry with him. She just let him cry, because she knew how it felt to mourn someone alone, she knew what it was like to cry and have no one there to comfort you, but desperately needing it.
Damien held onto her for all she was worth, gripping the material of the back of her shirt with his fingers and pulling her closer to his body. She was very well aware of the dampness seeping through her shirt, and she didn’t mind at all. Losing a Soul Mate like he did must have been unbearable, but it was also no excuse for all of the things that he had done. Still, she knew now, and that was all that mattered at the moment.
My Master Page 13
