My Master

by Aleera Anaya Ceres

  Isis stared at him, horrified. She searched her mind frantically, it was a Friday, she was sure of that, or Saturday, perhaps? Whatever the case, she knew the mall was always busy during this time of the night. She thought of all of the people he was planning on changing, and others he planned on using as a food supply. She shuddered inwardly, not wanting to be a part of it, but knowing she had no other choice.

  “Are you ready to depart?”

  Isis clenched her fists in her lap. I want to kill him…I want to kill him before he makes me kill more people. I want to kill him…

  Instead of replying she leaped on Caesareon, lucky enough to have the element of surprise to her advantage because he fell to the ground, Isis on top of him. She sunk her nails into his face, hoping to claw his eyes out.

  He was faster, though, reaching out and gripping her wrists in his hands. Isis glowered, she couldn’t use her hands but she still had fangs. She sunk her teeth into his neck and blood exploded into her mouth, blood that was thick and rich but poisonous. She gnawed at his neck, trying to nick an important vein that would make him lose tons of blood but he was already pushing her off of him.

  Isis fell backwards, hitting her head on the floor so hard that stars began to dance behind her eyelids. She couldn’t afford to slow down though. She jumped up swiftly, Caesareon was on his feet as well, and she charged at him. She was inches from his face when he brought his hand down, backhanding her across the cheek with such force that her head reeled with dizziness.

  Caesareon left her no time to recuperate. He had her by the throat and lifted her easily from the ground as if she were a rag doll, digging his razor sharp nails inches deep into her throat. Vampires were fast healers, they could hold their breath for an hour tops and be fine, but if he dug deep enough into her throat, he could sever her head, and that would be the end of it.

  But she was going to fight. She didn’t want to die by his hand. No longer would she be under his control. She brought her booted foot out and kicked him in the stomach. He winced, releasing his hold on her neck, only slightly. She gripped his wrist and twisted it in a rotating motion. His bones snapped and he cried out.

  Isis fell to the floor at his feet and twisted his ankle as well. Caesareon fell to the ground, his wrist protected against his chest. He was looking at Isis with dark rage, if looks could kill…

  His breathing was heavy and uneven but he remained still, staring at Isis, it wasn’t until his pupils swallowed the whites of his eyes did she realize yet again another mistake.

  She froze, unable to move no matter how much her mind screamed at her body to obey, it simply wouldn’t. The good thing about it is that he left her facial movements alone, as well as her voice, so she began to sling every curse she could think of at him, screaming them at the top of her lungs. He only sat there and took it until she was finished.

  “You have much passion,” Caesareon complimented, scooting in front of her. She saw the nail marks on his cheeks had begun to heal and the bite mark on his neck was now a faint pink scar but there was still dark blood running down his collar. “But your intelligence leaves much to be desired.”

  She couldn’t help herself, she spit in his face.

  He frowned and wiped off her saliva with the back of his hand. What annoyed her most was that he didn’t even seem angry, only annoyed, as if she were some pesky fly buzzing around him.

  “I despise you with every fiber in my being,” Isis spat. “And I will do your bidding no longer.”

  He smiled with his full teeth. “We shall see.” And he clasped the back of her head, closing her in for a deep angry kiss.

  Demetria glared at Isis the whole ride to the mall. Her black hair was pinned back with red bows, making her face look younger than ever. She looked like a teenager, but then again, she probably was just a simple teenager when Caesareon had first turned her into what she was.

  “What the hell are you staring at?” Isis finally snapped. She could only move her mouth and face, Caesareon kept her controlled so that she wouldn’t jump to the front seat of the van and kill them all in a car crash. He probably left her will to talk purposely, so she could fight with Demetria.

  “You could have at least taken the time to brush your hair.”

  Isis rolled her eyes and stared out the window. She knew the real words that Demetria wanted to say. I know what you two did, and don’t think I’m going to let you off easily. Isis wanted to argue, but the way she looked and the way that Caesareon looked left no room for explanation. Her, with her mussed hair and him with claw marks, they had all just assumed that Caesareon and Isis shared a moment of passion.

  Of course, they overlooked the red and black bruise forming on the side of her cheek from the way he had hit her and the blood that he refused to dry from his neck.

  “You look like a mess,” Demetria continued in that annoying Russian accent of hers. “You have no sex appeal, and your lips are too big.”

  Isis sighed heavily and drowned the girl out. A loud slapping noise brought her back to her senses. She looked up; Caesareon, who had been sitting next to Demetria the entire time, had slapped Demetria across the face. She was holding her cheek in shock, her mouth open wide.

  “My Lord…” she began.

  He growled at her to shut up so she did, but not without shooting Isis another look of peril. Isis ignored her and looked at Caesareon. He was smiling and she wondered whether he had grown annoyed with Demetria or if it had been his way of defending her.

  Either way, it mattered little to Isis.

  She closed her eyes and slept.

  19

  Esmeralda’s knowledge proved to be useful, after much argumentation, of course. Eventually, the FBSI said that it couldn’t hurt to scour the area, since they had no leads anyway. Esmeralda sighed and lowered herself into a chair, Marco Santiago at her side. Antonio had gone to get her a glass of water.

  “How are you feeling?” Mr. Santiago asked.

  Ezzy shrugged. “Not better, a little bit worse. I just hope this ends soon.”

  He nodded in understanding. “Life is like that,” he said. Then he lowered his voice to a whisper and leaned in to say something into her ear. “We really need to get you to a hospital. I know for a fact that it will help. When my wife was pregnant the doctors did her a wonder of good, giving her medicines to help with the energy pains.”

  Esmeralda stared at him with surprise. Had Maria told him? But she wouldn’t…would she? Or had Mr. Santiago, like his daughter, guessed the obvious? And it was obvious, she felt a little disappointed that Antonio hadn’t noticed the sudden changes in her, but she passed it off as stress. He had been busy lately and she couldn’t blame him. But didn’t she want him to know? Her heart told her that she should tell him, now was as good a time as any.

  “What was it like?” Esmeralda asked fearfully, one hand pressed flat against her belly. She didn’t need to give specifics. His eyes roamed over her once and they were full of understanding.

  “It was difficult,” he confessed. “We, not only as men but also as vampires, feel entirely too helpless when our women fall pregnant. Especially when the baby is a vampire. It is difficult to stand by and watch them suffer.”

  Esmeralda’s breath caught, her stomach lurching. “Is it really so painful?”

  Marco looked alarmed at the face she was making. “Don’t fret, Esmeralda,” he tried reassuring her. “You have your mother’s spirit and strength. You’ll be fine.”

  “You met my mother, then?”

  Marco nodded. “Once.Very spirited young woman. She was also very bright.”

  An odd feeling fluttered through her. This was the first time she’d ever spoken to Marco Santiago alone. She never would have imagined chatting him up, especially not about this; not about her parents.

  “Is that why you took me in?”

  He nodded. “I recognized you straight away when you showed up clinging to Damien’s arms.”

  Esmeralda clenched her hands into f
ists. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?” she demanded on a whisper. “Why didn’t you ever tell me who my parents were?”

  He had the audacity to look guilty. “Damien said—”

  “Damien said,” Esmeralda interrupted. “Everyone spent years listening to Damien and nobody ever questioned him. You alienated your son, my Soul Mate, because you didn’t want to listen to hear what he had to say. You chose Damien over him and now you don’t have either of them.”

  Esmeralda hadn’t meant to snap at him but the rage seemed to boil deep inside of her. All of that rage dissipated as the hurt flashed across Marco’s features. She relaxed the tightness in her body.

  “I know all that I’ve lost. I lost my son, Carlos, way before I lost my wife. I didn’t know how to love him, not with my attention focused entirely on my career. I lost Antonio when I believed Damien over him. I lost Damien to death. I’m lucky I haven’t yet lost Maria. I know I have no one but I am doing my best to get back those that are still alive.”

  Esmeralda swallowed the sudden lump that had formed in her throat. “Good,” she finally whispered after a long pause. “I hope you do. For the sake of my baby.”

  “Here’s your water, querida.” Antonio seemed to appear out of nowhere, startling Esmeralda in her seat. He was holding a small Styrofoam cup of water in his hands. She searched his face but he gave no indication that he’d heard their conversation at all. She took it, smiling her thanks, and sipped; it instantly took the dryness from her mouth.

  She smiled at him in thanks and scooted over, patting the seat next to her. He didn’t sit, only looked at her.

  “What?” She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear self-consciously.

  “I’m going to go with Phillipe to the mall so that we can end this once and for all.” He turned to Marco Santiago. “Please keep an eye on her.”

  Esmeralda crushed the cup in her hands, the water spilling between the cracks of her fingers and onto her lap. She paid it no mind. Antonio wanted to go and risk his life to save Isis, yet again. She hopped to her feet, dropping the crushed cup to the floor. “Don’t go Antonio!” She reached for the front of his dark shirt. “Please stay with me.” She hated the desperation in her voice but she couldn’t help it. She wanted to give him a reason to stay, a reason not to risk his life. Tell him, she thought. Tell him now.

  “I have to go.” He brushed his fingers down her cheek, sending that familiar comforting fire through her. His warmth seeped through his fingertips and into her. “I have to bring Isis back.”

  “Please stay,” she whispered, forcing the tears back. She was sick of crying.

  “I’m doing this for you, Ezzy. Can’t you see? Everything that I do is for you! I want to bring Isis back safely for you. I hate to see you suffer.”

  So those were his reasons? That’s what it came down to? He was doing everything for her? She wanted Isis home, but she wanted Antonio home safely too. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing them both. Esmeralda had to give him a reason to stay. She had to tell him…

  “Please just let the police do their job! Stay, please! I need you!”

  “Isis needs me.”

  Marco Santiago stood, placing his hand on Antonio’s shoulder. “But Isis is not the only one who needs you.”

  Antonio looked at his dad like he was crazy.

  Tell him, tell him now.

  Antonio shook his head. “I can’t leave her to die.” He turned and started to walk away.

  Tell him now. Esmeralda clutched her stomach and shut her eyes. She took in a deep breath and blurted, “Antonio, I’m pregnant!!!”

  He stopped in his tracks and turned around. “What?”

  Antonio had gone pale in the face. He remained immobile for a stretch of time, and the longer he stood there without saying anything, the more Esmeralda grew worried, his words ringing in her ears from the time she had asked him what would happen if their baby came out just like him. That won’t happen. It can’t happen…I won’t let it. She wondered if he still felt that way, if he would want nothing to do with her and her baby.

  “You’re…pregnant…” he echoed blankly.

  She nodded and reached for the bottom of her sweater and pulled it up, revealing the roundness of her stomach. He stared at it in wonder, curiosity and disbelief. She pulled it back down, her nervousness made her palms sweaty. Her disappointment to his reaction brought a lump to her throat.

  Esmeralda didn’t know what she had expected. Was she expecting Antonio to jump for joy? To hold her?

  He did neither. Instead a smile played on his face and he rushed to her, framing her face in his hands and kissed her long and leisurely, dipping his tongue in that familiar dance that she loved. She grabbed him by the back of the neck, fingering his thick curls.

  He broke away for a breath and, seeing her face, chuckled low in his throat. “Not the reaction you expected?”

  Weakly she shook her head.

  “That explains the way you’ve been eating like a monster.”

  “I was not eating like a monster.” She guffawed indignantly.

  He pressed a hand to her stomach, softly, barely touching her, but it felt light. Esmeralda could feel his happiness radiating into her as if it were her own. “You’re pregnant, Ezzy, you’re seriously pregnant.” He bent and kissed her lips again, and she felt her insides melt to butter as she opened her mouth in his.

  “This is all very touching.” Marco Santiago smiled from beside them. “But I do believe Victoria Phillipe is waiting for you, Antonio.”

  He broke apart from her with a sigh and pressed his forehead against hers. “Distractions.” He pressed one last kiss to her lips. “I’ll be right back, okay? Stay right here.”

  Esmeralda smiled and watched him walk away to talk to Victoria, who was waiting impatiently by the front doors. She smiled after him, enjoying the feeling that swelled in her chest. His reaction hadn’t been what she was expecting; if anything, she had expected him to be angry. She wondered what brought on this sudden change in him. But, it didn’t matter now. All that mattered was that the police were going to go get Isis and Antonio would be safe with her and then everything would be okay. It had to be…

  “Sorry to inconvenience you, Santiago,” Victoria muttered as he approached her.

  He shrugged his shoulders, feeling like a bird was flapping around wildly in his chest and in his mind. I am going to be a father… he thought with happiness. “Just had some good news,” he smiled widely.

  She nodded in Ezzy’s direction. “Surprised you couldn’t figure it out sooner.”

  He snapped his head in attention. “Wait,” he said. “You knew?”

  She clicked her tongue in annoyance. “Of course, everyone knew, except for you, obviously. You’re kind of dense.”

  He ignored her rejoinder. “So what do you need?”

  “According to the rules I’m not allowed to bring you along on this sort of endeavor, but I’m not one for the rules…”

  And he believed it. Tall and curvaceous with model-like looks and long curly blonde hair wildly framing her face, she wore tight leather boots and pants and a thin white shirt, a golden necklace hung around her neck, she looked every bit an assassin—a rule breaker.

  “So are you coming with us?”

  He looked back at Esmeralda, she was sitting in that same chair, resting her head on his father’s shoulder, her eyes closed. He wondered if she was sleeping, amazed at how fast she could manage it. He was glad she was, though, because if she were awake, she would be horrified at what he was about to do.

  Antonio hadn’t promised he would stay, hadn’t even agreed upon it. And he knew that now he had more than one life to protect, both Ezzy’s and his unborn child’s, but he felt the need to go and save Isis. It wasn’t just the need to be a hero, in fact, it wasn’t that at all. If anyone knew that the word “Destiny” came to his mind as he described this feeling they’d probably make fun of him.

  But he had finally accepted that he had been to
the Otherworld, he had met his mother, he had had visits from Damien, Ignacio and Katheryn; he knew that the Otherworld existed and that the Elders that controlled the world’s fate had something in store for him. This is what he needed to do; it’s where he needed to be.

  He turned back to Victoria, a smile tugged on his face. He would help, he would get Isis out, and he would come back home safe. He knew, he felt it deep in his bones. “Claro,” he said. “I’m coming with you.”

  20

  The mall was packed, not surprisingly. Isis stared at the busyness going on around her. Parents were bustling their children along, teenagers huddled around in packs, the elderly walked around browsing stores. There was a giant fountain, squirting water into the air; people were eagerly throwing pennies into it, making pointless wishes that probably wouldn’t come true.

  Because Caesareon was planning on killing them all.

  They exited their vehicles, every supernatural that Caesareon had at his disposal. There were lots of vehicles, each filled with dozens of supernaturals, all clad in red and brown boots. She wondered how they looked to passersby’s? Kids on field trips wearing matching shirts; she wondered if that’s how they saw them.

  Caesareon stood in between Isis and Demetria, his hand gripping Isis’s forearm tightly. It was no comparison to the pain on the side of her face, she felt it swelling up, and imagined it to be ugly and purple. Yes, vampires healed fast, but Caesareon had hit her with extra force, that and the fact that she was hungry… It would probably go down soon, though, she hoped.

  “Stay by my side at all times you two,” he told both women. Demetria was surprisingly silent, probably too afraid to speak because of the slap she had received earlier. But her eyes shone with excitement of the battle that was about to take place. Isis only scowled.