Page 53 of My Master
“I saw those eyes again and wanted to see what they were.”
A flash of red. Eyes. Isis shuddered. “Okay, let’s go find mother and we’ll see what’s going on…”
Her throat was torn out. Ripped apart, shredded, and blood was absent from the curved wound on her neck. It had been sucked away, drained, and she was pale in the moonlight. She tried shaking her mother awake, slapping her, but no amount of screaming or crying would raise her.
Their mother was dead.
Isis scrambled away from the scene, clutching sand in her fingers to make sure that this wasn’t a dream. Her brother held on to their mother and cried. Tears prickled down her face as well but she couldn’t bring herself to accept the events.
How had this happened? What had killed her? Who would kill her? It appeared to be a knife wound, clean and violent at the same time. Certainly it wasn’t someone who wanted to rob the village, was it? They had nothing for the taking, nothing to give away. If they wanted the jewelry and perfume they could have just taken it. Why resort to killing?
Isis looked up into the darkness. She could hear the last sparks of life leave her people. They were dead as well. The ones who still lived searched for loved ones, tended to the wounded. If only she could tend to her mother…but it was too late.
Isis caught a flash of red. Her breath caught, felt something call to her, pull her, making her stand up from her place. “Stay here,” she whispered to her brother, though she doubted he heard her. He was bent over their mother’s body, cradling her in his arms.
Isis kept her gaze fixated ahead, kept them glued to the dangerous color. Perhaps it was only sparks of fire, but how could it be? Two level circles of flaring red that hypnotized her every move. Anger and curiosity nudged her insides. It wasn’t the first time she had seen those eyes and she wanted to get to the bottom of it. To make sure that this time would be the last time.
She followed them…
* * *
“Who are you?”She caught sight of the man, attempting to slink back, away from her. At the sound of her voice he stopped and faced her.
Isis could only gape.
This man that she stared at was beautiful…there was no other word to describe him. Tall and broad shouldered, his dark skin seemed to glow in the moonlight, a sheer shiny color, all smooth and appeared to be made of stone—of onyx. His chest was infinitely wide, with bulging muscles that she had never seen a man possess before. His hair was black and fell straight over those perfect shoulders. And his face…he had rough features that were completely elegant at the same time. His eyebrows were slightly thick, framed just above beautiful golden eyes. Each lash was dark and thick and curved. His nose was straight, his lips full, sensuous. She found his eyes again, and was mildly surprised when they flared red, only to die down.
“Isis, I believe?” And when he spoke his voice was like thick liquid beauty. He smiled at her. “A name befitting a queen,” he complimented.
Isis refused to falter at the sight of a pretty face. She tilted her chin up. “Who are you?” she demanded. “And what are you doing in our village?
The stranger chuckled low and throaty. “I’ve come to gather recruits. Are you interested?” His eyes flashed. The moment they did, she felt a pull on her mind, an inner voice calling her to him, wanting her to go to him and accept what he would offer her, now and forever. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. The idea! Her mother had just died and here she was, admiring a stranger.
“Not interested.” She turned and started to walk away. “I suggest you leave here because the people will not be kind to you.” She walked back to her brother, attempting to erase the strangers face from her mind completely. The sight of her mother’s body sent another blow to her stomach. She would have preferred to be dropped from the top of a pyramid. Isis fell to her knees, calling her brother’s name. He didn’t hear her. He couldn’t hear her. He was so focused on his mother, tears were clouding his eyes. He paid no mind to Isis.
He didn’t even notice when someone came up from behind her, someone with glowing eyes and dark hair, and sank his teeth to her neck.
Isis squirmed against the stranger but couldn’t break free. There was a sharp pain against her neck, it was also heavy. Was she being stabbed? She couldn’t be sure. Her vision went blurry, her energy drained, she felt her heartbeat diminish into soft flutters—barely there—and she felt herself give way.
And then her heart stopped.
She was floating through darkness, is this what death is? She asked herself various times. A bright light flashed before her and she started walking towards it. Maybe there would be someone there to explain things to her, she told herself, confused. But that bright light caught fire. Igniting at the corner first and then burning up until it was enveloped in flames. She watched in horrid fascination as everything around her burned crimson just before an explosive liquid sensation penetrated her mouth.
It was thick and rich, like nothing she’d ever tasted before. She found herself swallowing it by the mouthful, the more she took, the more she felt herself being lifted up, into new feelings and new sensations that she had never known before. She fought to keep hold of herself…fought to remember who she was. But she was drowning…drowning in this heavenly sensation…
Her eyes flew up to find an arm pressed to her mouth, blood seeping onto her lips. She pushed it away and fell backwards, a soft blanket of light brown sand cushioning her. A veil of red had been placed before her eyes, causing her massive confusion. Where was she? That’s right…the dessert, Egypt. But who was she? She struggled to remember, her brain foggy with a feeling of new.
She only caught a glimpse of him, staring over her, before he was gone; a flash of golden red, dark hair, evilly dangerous face. She had seen him before, hadn’t she? She sat up, and found herself staring at a little boy, a limp woman in his arms. She cocked her head curiously to the side. He was familiar to her…and he was crying…hell, why couldn’t she remember? Why was her brain so damn foggy? What had that man done to her?
* * *
Isis scrambled up,fresh liquid in her mouth, dripping from the corners. Her tongue darted out to taste the sweetness of it. It was so very beautiful…divine…exquisite. The man was walking away from her, the man she had recognized from before. She rushed to him, careful to sidestep the two dead bodies at her feet.
“Wait,” she called out to him. He stopped and half-turned. “Who are you?” she asked.
He smiled maniacally. “I am Caesareon,” he said. “But you may call me, ‘Master.’”
* * *
