Page 42 of My Master
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 seemangry, 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 glaredat 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.”
