Page 13 of My Master
“Antonio, please talk to me,” she pleaded.
He shook his head back and forth. “I can’t.”
A wave of nausea swept over Esmeralda. She clutched a hand to her stomach and one to her mouth. There it was again, that God awful feeling in her stomach. She ran away and made it in time to the bathroom, doubling over the toilet and vomiting. All she could think about was that pink little plus sign, underneath the sink.
Feeling like crap, she curled up on the floor, placing her face against the cool floor tiles. Seconds later, she felt a nice heat radiating onto her body, the soft sparks of electricity tingling her skin. She sighed with pleasure.
“Ezzy, we need to get you to a doctor.” Antonio stroked her hair back.
“There’s no need,” she whispered, because she already knew what the problem was. The only matter was telling him about it.
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
Esmeralda chuckled once before exhaustion overtook her once again. When she had woken up, she was safely tucked under Antonio’s arm, in their bed. He must have taken her there at some point.
Her thoughts were briefly led astray to Isis and thinking back, she had to admit that there was something wrong about her attitude. She hadn’t acted normal—she had sounded nervous, distant, and it wasn’t the first time Ezzy had heard her like that. She recalled a conversation they had had a while back.
‘I love you.’ Right before they had hung up the phone. Ezzy hadn’t dwelled on it too much but now she could see the abnormality of it. Isis never told her she loved her first. Esmeralda would always be the one to start the affectionate statement and Isis would wave her off with the flick of a hand.
“Yeah, yeah,” she would say. “I love you, too.” As if she was talking to an annoying little sister with affection.
Ezzy chewed at her bottom lip. She had the urge to go to the Santiago mansion but knew it would be useless. Everyone was asleep; she’d go later tonight, she decided. For now she just wanted to go to sleep. She crawled back under the covers and snuggled up against Antonio. He stirred a little restlessly. She sent calming thoughts into his mind. Esmeralda wasn’t sure if it worked because she fell asleep only to dream…
* * *
Antonio was on a rooftop again,watching the sunset just like he did every time he dreamt. This time, he didn’t wait to watch it. He turned and called out for his brother. “Damien, where are you?”
And then he was there, in a gray suit and a red tie. Antonio knew this was just a dream but he couldn’t help but marvel at how real Damien looked.
Damien dusted off invisible dust from his cuffs. “What do you want, brother?” he demanded, frowning. “Calling me here every night has become tedious and I grow bored fast.”
That was the thing about his brother; whenever he talked he wanted to sound smarter, more superior than Antonio. “I just wanted to see you again, to talk to you before—” His voice caught.
Damien’s lips curled up into a smile. “Before I die?”
Antonio nodded.
Damien laughed, the sound high. “Oh, brother,” he said, clearly amused. “I’m surprised you haven’t figured it out yet. But then again, you never were the sharpest tool in the shed.” He chuckled. Antonio blinked. “Since I’m bored with these worthless games I’ll decide to tell you the truth. Look, this isn’t a dream—not entirely.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s a dream, yes, and it’s all happening in your mind, true, but I am me. A spirit, of sorts, and I am here because you call to me in your sleep.”
“So, you’re real?” Antonio stepped forward to touch him.
Damien glared. “No, you nitwit. I am a spirit that has been called into your mind every damn night and frankly, I grow tired of it and I want to go back instead of watching you cry over my mangled body.”
“So that was all—what? A fabrication?” Finally, Antonio understood.
“Yes, it was a fabrication. Quite a clever one, I might add. To torture my little brother by haunting his dreams.”
He was bragging.Bragging!Here Antonio was, feeling guilty, and Damien had tortured him purposefully. Antonio clenched his fists in anger.
Damien eyed the movement and gave him a simple, “Anything else you want to know before I slit my own throat again?”
“How?” Antonio demanded.
Damien raised an eyebrow. “Pardon?”
