Page 3 of My Master
“Are you listening to me?”
Isis snapped out of her reverie. “No. What?”
Esmeralda sighed. “I said it’s not the flu.”
“I bet it is.” Isis flipped through more papers, recognizing none of the names she saw.
“I’ve had the flu before; I can assure you that this isn’t it.”
Isis made an exasperated sound. “I guess you’d know your body better than I would, right?” she said sarcastically. “I mean, you’ve only gotten sicksooomany times, right? I wouldn’t know the symptoms.” She thumbed through more papers.
There was a pause on the other end of the line. Then, “Isis, are you sure you’re okay? You sound agitated…”
Isis didn’t really feel bad for snapping at her best friend. She always did that. She went and played out in the rain—after many fair warnings—and swore up and down she wouldn’t get sick. A day or two later, she’d be sick.
“I’m fine, all right? I’m just doing some work. Hey, isn’t Antonio with you?”
Esmeralda sighed again. “No, sadly. He went to see his dad at S.E.”
Isis nodded even when Esmeralda couldn’t see it.
Santiago Enterprises was perhaps one of the biggest businesses in the world, vampire wise. It was the main distributor of Synthetic Blood, a clever little invention for those vampires that didn’t want to drink from humans. The company recently started distributing a cure for the disease that Rogue vampires acquired while taking the Blood Drug—a powerful blood toxin that had a very dangerous effect on a vampire’s craving and personality (not to mention health).
Esmeralda’s parents had invented the cure and hid it well before they died. Only after taking off the memory block from Ezzy’s mind had they been able to find the cure and use it for, as Ezzy would say, the better. It was only recently that they had sold the cure to S.E. and split the earnings equally. Even though Antonio didn’t care much for the business—seeing as he had his own mechanic shop—it was his duty to talk with his dad and make negotiations.
“What time will he be back?”
“I don’t know.” Ezzy sounded a little sad. “Soon, I hope. I can’t stand being here alone.”
Isis tossed the stack she was working on to the side and pulled out different files and began searching through those. “Why don’t you go out and see a movie or something?” she suggested.
Esmeralda brightened up. “There is this one movie I’ve been wanting to see.”
“See? Go have fun but be careful. And call me if anything bad happens.” Isis stopped on a file that didn’t have a photo. She scanned the page for a name. When she found it, her heart dropped, the memories that had never truly left her resurfaced.
“Thanks, Isis. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
“Yeah, later. Oh, and Esmeralda?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
There was a pause on the other end. “I love you, too.”
Isis hung up and pocketed her phone as she stared at the name. The face of the person it belonged too came to her mind so easily. Memories of an ancient time in Egypt came back to her in almost an instant. Her hands trembled slightly as she set the file down on the desk, away from her in a manner that was so careful, one would have thought it would explode. Then, Isis whispered the one name that she never thought she’d have to say aloud.
“Caesareon.”
3
Esmeralda pulled on her comfortable black pants and a royal blue turtle neck. After brushing her hair and tying it into a ponytail she grabbed her purse and left. It had been a while since she had actually left the house. Alongwhile, ever since she had gotten sick she had never felt like going out—she’d skipped out on her music lessons practically all month. Not that she needed them anymore, when her instructor said she was a natural. Antonio said music ran in her blood. Her father had been a musician and she aimed to follow in his footsteps.
She found it rather odd that she’d been so sheltered before, craving freedom and the outdoors. She’d tasted freedom the minute she’d left Santiago mansion. Antonio had taken her across America until everything she’d ever wanted to see; mountains, oceans, and deserts, had all been crossed off her list. Now, she was back home and comfortable within these walls.
She had been sick a while and Antonio hadn’t noticed at all until last night when she threw up all over the floor. Of course, she didn’t blame him for not noticing. He’d had problems of his own. He was still suffering from his brother’s death, she could tell and yes, maybe some of what he was feeling was weighing down on her energy but she didn’t feel she had the right to complain. Not when she’d gone through the same thing those first few months after Damien’s death.
Plagued by nightmares, waking up screaming because she thought Rogues were feasting on her flesh from every angle, reliving the same nightmare over and over again. Damien, sinking his fangs into her neck, finding Antonio’s body in a pool of blood.
