Page 38 of My Master
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 Esmeralda, 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.
Esmeralda patted his hair down; it was hard with gel, and it curled at the back of his neck, just as Antonio’s did. She used to think that it was funny, how two people that looked so alike, could be so different. Now, she wasn’t so sure if it were funny at all.
He pulled slightly away from her, still gripping her back and sniffled. “You know,” he said, regaining his composure, his eyes going back to that milk chocolate color. “You look like her. Except she had black hair.”
For some reason, a blush crept up to her cheeks. She swallowed, remembering the time she’d walked into his bedroom and saw what she’d thought had been a picture of herself above his door, photoshopped with black hair.
At the time, she’d wondered where he’d taken that picture. It hadn’t even been of her. She remembered when he’d given her the bottle of black hair dye, had told her she would look better. It had been because of that. Because he had wanted her to resemble his dead Soul Mate.
Esmeralda asked, “What was her name?”
“Esperanza,” he said. “It means ‘hope’ in Spanish.”
Esmeralda rolled the name around in her mind. Esperanza sounded a lot like Esmeralda, add that to the whole ‘looking alike’ thing and it was no wonder Damien had created a fantasy about Esmeralda in his mind.
“But now that I’ve gotten to know you…” Damien pushed away a stray lock of hair from her cheek, a gesture so simple and gentle and unlike him. “I realize that you are nothing alike, at all.”
“Well, I suppose she would be impossible to replace, no matter how alike or how different. And since she died, and you’re dead, do you get to meet with her in the afterlife or something?”
“I am afraid that it is impossible, and besides, I am not allowed to talk about the Otherworld with you, as you’re well aware.”
Esmeralda shrugged slightly “So is that all you came into my dream to tell me?” she asked.
“There are a few other things, the first one being that I know you are pregnant and my brother is likely to notice soon. The second is a warning from the Otherworld regarding Isis. Now, I know you are so keen on helping your best friend and saving humanity, but you should know that Isis does not have control over her own mind at the moment, and she will need your help remembering who she is, and what she is not. The third is a clue to their whereabouts; you’ll find his armies gathered at the Northgate mall right now. The fourth is just a warning. Be careful. I’ve met Caesareon personally and he was hell-bent on getting Isis back. He will not give her up easily.”
Esmeralda stared at him quizzically. He’d met Caesareon? When? How? When she looked at him, the questions burning in her eyes, he merely shook his head. She parted from Damien and stood up, he followed, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand.
She stared up at him; he had always been beautiful to her. There was always a sense of mystery to him. Before she had met Antonio she was told that Damien was her Soul Mate, and she didn’t have a problem with it before, he had been her savior, he had taken her out of that closet all of those years ago. Now that she knew the truth, she’d never think of him the same again. But since she understood him better, she figured it would be easier to sleep at night, without all of the nightmares.
“It is time for us to go,” Damien said, resting his hand on her shoulder.
“I have to wake up now?” She wondered. She was just having a better time in her dreams, but she knew that she had to get to Isis, and help her remember who she was, she supposed.
Damien nodded. “Indeed,” he said.
And Ezzy felt it, a little pull on her being, something calling to her. Her eyelids began to droop heavily, and she felt herself being lifted up. She supposed he was right—it was time. “Thank you, Damien,” she said, though she wasn’t exactly sure why.
“And one more thing,” Damien said, reaching out for her, but she had already begun to fade, her hearing had grown thinner but she could still make out his words clearly, even as she woke up from her dream. His voice became a distant whisper, carried to her by the wind. “I always cared for you…”
* * *
Esmeralda jolted up in bed,rubbed her eyes and stared around into the darkness. She vaguely wondered what time it was before she remembered her dream and what Damien had said to her. Caesareon was going to be at the mall? It didn’t make much sense to her. What could he possibly gain from going there? Surely he wasn’t going shopping or anything, so why? To get more recruits? That seemed the most likely answer.
She tossed aside the blanket and jumped out of bed. Immediately, she was overcome with a feeling of nausea. She clutched her stomach and bent over, hanging her head between her legs and breathing in through her mouth.
Baby,she thought,please calm down for mommy.It was like her child could hear her thoughts and obeyed, settling down instantaneously. She smiled and patted her swollen stomach, noting that it felt bigger than before, though she didn’t feel she had the time to pay much attention to that when there were so many more important things at hand.
Once her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she made her way to the bedroom door and out to the hallway. She saw the lights down the stairs were on, but the house was completely silent. Reluctantly, she walked down the steps to find her living room empty. She made her way to the kitchen, where she saw Maria, sitting cross legged on her countertop, in pajama shorts and a tank top, sipping synthetic blood from a juice box.
