Page 2 of My Master
“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 smellitand she could smellhimon 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.
