Page 46 of My Master
“Esmeralda, come back inside so we can talk.” It was Mr. Santiago, holding the glass doors open behind him; he was regarding her cautiously, as if she were a bomb that might explode or something.
“I have to find Antonio!” she screamed. “I have to go get him.”
And then, on impulse, she ran, faster than she ever thought imaginable. As fast as any vampire.
Antonio, she thought angrily,I’m coming for you.
* * *
Victoria wasn’tone to hide in the shadows, especially on the hunt. A quick assessment of a situation and she was charging, trusting in her partner to watch her back. In a war she didn’t have time for caution, and this was a war. Maybe only a small battle, but the beginning of something bigger, all the same.
Humans staggered, confused around her, falling to the ground, bleeding and dying. She noticed that most humans were being dragged away; to where, she wasn’t sure. She knew she should follow, protect them, see where they were being led, but she was being attacked at every corner. It was hard to take one step forward before she was attacked by vampires and werewolves.
The supernaturals led by Caesareon were in red, the werewolves had on red collars, so it was easy to distinguish them apart from her team. She just seriously hoped no one would be stupid enough to shoot her with a silver bullet. If they did, well, that would be it for her.
A vampire lunged for her from about five feet away, but she was ready for it. As soon as it came crashing down on her, she jumped up and gripped his neck in her muzzle, tearing his throat out with her canines. A relatively easy kill.
Then she felt something land on her from behind, dropping her flat on the ground, the wind being knocked from her lungs. She tried to twist and snap at the thing on her, but its weight was like iron, weighing her down. A low growling sounded in her ear, and she knew it was another werewolf.
The wolf began biting at her neck, his teeth sunk into her, blood seeping into his mouth. A low guttural rumble vibrated against her back and she took it as a laugh. The asshole! She turned her head around but it only caused his teeth to dig in deeper to her.
And then Victoria heard a shot.
She stilled, waiting for the pain to come, for her heart to stop. It never came. The wolf on top of her whimpered and went limp.Oh, thank god,she thought and tossed him from her back. She looked around and saw Terrance, holding a gun in his hands, pointing it in her direction; it was smoking from the hole.
There was a deep gash on his neck, blood oozing from it. She barely had time to worry about it because a vampire was behind him. She flew over his head and landed on the vampire’s chest, tearing its throat out with her teeth.
“Victoria.”
She turned, Terrance was looking at her with gratitude, though he’d never mutter thanks, she knew he meant it. She inclined her head, letting him know that she understood, and together, they battled.
* * *
“My Lord.”The black wolf that had attacked Isis before—at least, she thought it was the same one—had gone to his human form and was looking out of the front doors of the Rotten Banana.
“What?” Caesareon snapped impatiently. He was looking through the supply of cowering humans that huddled on the floor together. Some crying and bleeding, others were frantically searching for an escape route. Most of them were teenagers and middle aged men and women.
“It seems that our plans have not quite worked the way we wanted them to.”
Caesareon’s yellow eyes sparked up into an angry flare before subtly dying down. “What,” he said slowly, “are you talking about?”
His voice was poisonous enough to have the wolf flinching back. “I mean, my Lord,” he whispered, “it seems someone has told the police of our whereabouts and they are delaying our plans.”
Caesareon frowned and rubbed his hand against his chin in thought. He didn’t seem surprised that the cops knew where he was. After a stretch of silence, he finally spoke, clapping his hands together. “I think it is time for me to advance on my plan then.” He picked up a girl nearest to him by the arm. Her scream was automatic; she pulled away from him, but it did little good. His grip on her tightened so hard that you could see the knuckles whiten.
Her screams pierced Isis like a thousand little knives being sliced through her skin. In an instant, fragments of what had happened the night her family was killed came back to her, filling her with an overwhelming sensation that she couldn’t quite describe. It was something along the lines of confusion and fear and horror.
“Isis…”It was the voice of a child, completely and utterly familiar, repeating her name over and over in her head.
Caesareon pushed the girl to her knees and pulled her neck back, baring her throat to him. And he bit her, drinking only the correct amount that he needed, blood that would connect their minds, binding master to slave. And then he pulled out a bone handled knife from his waist, one that Isis hadn’t noticed before and one that was all too familiar. He brought it down in a moving arc above his head, and stabbed her through the chest.
A tiny gasp escaped her lips, along with blood in droplets on her lips. Caesareon pulled the knife from her bosom and put it back in its original spot at his waist. He lowered the girl to her back and bent over her. In a quick gesture, Caesareon tore off the skin from his wrist with his teeth, blood gushing out, and held it over the girl’s mouth, binding the slave to master.
Everyone knew what would come next. It was the only way vampires could be made. First blood must be taken, the victim killed then blood would be forced in the mouth. Caesareon would then bite her, not drinking, but this time injecting the vampire virus into her blood stream that would revive her, helping her swallow the blood he had given her and she would become a vampire.
Isis always wondered why the victim had to be killed before drinking the vampire’s blood. According to science, that method didn’t work. Sharing blood only kept the human alive longer, extending both of their lives. To be a vampire, death was required, venom was injected and the blood of the vampire was swallowed in order for a vampire to rise in the human’s place. A virus and blood was all it took.
Caesareon injected the virus into her with a syringe—Isis barely had time to wonder at that when her heart was beating frantically—and backed away to observe his work, like admiring a canvas one had just finished painting. She began writhing on the ground in awkward convulsions, if her mouth hadn’t been clamped shut as she swallowed the blood she would have been foaming out of it. She looked rabid.
