Page 9 of My Master
“Why the hell did you do that?” Isis snatched back her phone and stared at the ‘call ended’in anger. She had wanted to say goodbye to Esmeralda before she left with Caesareon but he had taken the phone from her before she could and hung up.
Caesareon twirled the phone in his hands briefly before he squeezed it. It crumbled into nothing but broken bits and little wiring. He dusted it off his hands and onto the floor then smiled at Isis. “You were about to give away information,” he said. “I couldn’t let that happen.”
“No, I wasn’t!” Isis argued. But she knew she was lying. She had seriously contemplated telling Antonio and Ezzy that she was being held captive, to get out and hide, because she knew Caesareon wouldn’t just kill her for her insolence. First, he’d torture her by torturing them, and then he’d kill her in ways that’d make her wish she’d never been born. She had thought better of it.
“Never the matter.” He waved off her look and plopped himself down on his chair. Well,chairwasn’t the appropriate word for it. It looked more like a throne, made of gold and stacked with velvet red pillows. “Now that your pathetic mortal feelings are out of the way, we must start making plans.”
“Making plans?” she asked, staring at him. He had changed his clothes and was now wearing nothing but black pants. His feet and chest were bare. His body was pale under the light, a sign he needed feeding; she noted the black spidery veins making their way across his neck and eyes.
Caesareon wasn’t ugly; Isis had admitted that to herself a while back, and even now. His chest was rippled in tight muscles and big arms that one never would have imagined him to have if they saw him fully clothed. Dark black hair curled around his navel and trailed a path down further into his black pants. She avoided looking further.
He would have seemed perfect, exotic, to any stranger catching a glimpse of him. But Isis saw his imperfections, stared them straight in the face just like she was doing now. Just below his heart, was a scar, much like Antonio’s, jagged and angry and silvery-white.
She knew how he had received that scar. Knew who had given it to him. Isis knew what the intent was behind the blade that stabbed him through the chest. It had been her doing. And if she could reverse time, she’d go back and make sure she had finished the job.
“I thought the plan was ‘get Isis, threaten her, bring her back and make her my queen.’ Or did you have something more diabolically evil in mind?” she said sarcastically and smiled at him.
“Do not be foolish, Isis. I did not bring you here to make you my queen. I have no need for useless things like that.”
“Then what the hell do you want from me?” Isis demanded.
“You tried to kill me.” He leaned back in his throne, crossing his hands over his scar, hiding it.
“A task at which I, sadly, failed.”
He frowned. “And you would fail again, if ever given that opportunity once more. You see, I recovered easily after that unfortunate…” He paused, searching for the appropriate word to use. “…incident. Nevertheless, I couldn’t have a mutiny on my hands, so I had to find you, show you reason and most importantly,” he smiled, “show you your place.”
“So, you only brought me back here to show your troops that you’re not weak? Is that what this is about? Because if it is, I think a simple coffee invitation would have sufficed.”
“But in the end, you were the one who sent the coffee invitation tomeif I recall correctly.”
Isis began to grow annoyed with his games. “So is this about control? You know, you don’t make any sense. Just come right out and say what you have to say, Caesareon!” She spit his name as if it were acid on her tongue.
“You want simplicities?” he asked. “Fine, I’ll give you simplicities. I am going to create an army, Isis, an army of our kind. Of vampires, werewolves, demons, et cetera.”
“What?!”
“Humans have ruled far too long, they degrade us and defile our names, and they hunt us out of fear. They rule this world, despite our powers. We are a stronger race, all of us, and it would be fairly easy for us to enslave them, to use them as blood supply, as food. Now do you see?”
“It’s not possible,” Isis argued. “There aren’t enough of us in the world. We would be outnumbered, and the humans know our weaknesses. Your plan is stupid, it’d never work!”
Caesareontsked at her with impatience. “Which is why I intend to create myownarmy against the humans. The plan is perfect.”
“Okay, so why do you need me to help you? I’m sure you can handle all of this crazy shit on your own.”
At this, he smiled. “Because I need you to lead my army into battle.”
She reeled back a step. “I’m not leading anybody to do shit. Find yourself another lackey because I have plans for the rest of my life.”
Caesareon gave her a menacing look. “Youwillobey me.”
“Or what?” she demanded. “You’ll threaten my friends? Go ahead. I’m sure they can protect themselves, anyway. Plus, if you go through with this crappy plan, and I do say crappy, the world will go to shit anyway. I won’t be the one to help you ‘take over the world.’” She used air quotes. “Which, by the way, issooooverrated. Here’s a suggestion: find a new hobby. I hear stamp collecting is great this time of year.”
Caesareon stood, slowly very much like the predator that Isis knew he was. “You were never one for silence, Isis,” he drawled out in a very seductive voice. “But I know you will obey me. You know how I know?”
Isis didn’t say anything. Didn’t want to risk her voice cracking in the way that she knew it would. She worried at her bottom lip instead.
“Because I am your master and youwillhave no other choice.”
