Page 51 of Last Hope
She knew he would be.
* * *
Isis flewwith all of the strength she could muster from one rooftop to another, but Azizi was nowhere in sight.He has to be here, she thought desperately.He has to be!She stopped at the edge of a building to catch her breath, to look around. Her heart thundered. She was too close to her brother; too close to lose him now. She couldn’t bear to lose him again.Could you lose someone you never had?She thought as she scanned surrounding buildings.
The answer came when she saw him.
You could lose someone more than once. You could lose someone that was never yours. But Azizihadbeen hers. He was still hers. The same blood that flowed through his veins also flowed through hers. They had shared a mother, shared a home. Maybe her venom had been the one to change him into what he now was. He was a part of her as she was of him.
They were a part of each other.
A bond that, she had hoped, hadn’t been torn over the time that they’d been apart.
Azizi stood two buildings away, his back was to her but she knew him. She’d know him anywhere. Slim, small, everything about him was just as she remembered. Skin, as dark as her own, hair that he kept short. He was so familiar, so foreign. Where his appearance was the same she noticed what he held underneath. That eerie translucent vibe that wafted from his pores; that predatory stance, the red eyes, the bloodlust.
Vampire.
From this distance, Isis could see him fiddling with a strange metal machine. Isis couldn’t make out the machine’s shape. It appeared to be many shapes of metal and wire welded together to form a new figure.
His machine. The one he planned on using to create more vampires. Isis felt her senses sharpen in alarm. Her fingers tingled, her heart pounded. She had to get to him before he continued what Caesareon started. Before he ruined more lives.
Once he saw her, she was sure he would listen to reason. He would do what she said. He’d turn himself in. She just had to get his attention, he had to see her. Isis cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled.
“Azizi!”
He didn’t even turn.
“Azizi!”
He was too busy to hear her, too distracted. She was going to have to get closer. She bent her legs, readied her body for a jump but never even made it off the roof.
The impact hit her out of nowhere on the chest, knocking her to her back and causing the breath to whoosh from her lungs. The shock from hitting the ground vibrated up and down her spine. She coughed and rolled over, catching her breath. She looked up with teary vision and stared at the bastard that had knocked her down.
It was a male with dark hair and crimson eyes. His teeth were bared in a threatening snarl. “Isis,” he sneered. “You killed my Master.” He began pacing the rooftop like a feline on the prowl.
Isis stood and dusted off her pants. “And who the hell are you?”
The vampire smiled. “Taylor.”
Isis raised an eyebrow. “Well, Taylor.” She took a step forward with her claws extracted. “Get the fuck out of my way.” She didn’t wait for a reply. She lunged at him with extended claws that buried home in his chest near his heart. Too bad she didn’t pierce it, she thought.
Taylor’s fingers wrapped around her ponytail and he pulled her head back, nearly snapping it off completely. The force had her falling back and away from him, gripping the back of her neck.
Taylor was on her again, striking at her from every angle. He was an invisible blur in the dark, but her vision was acute. She zoomed in on her target and jerked her hand out at his approach. Her fist hit him square in the face, sending a geyser of blood spraying against her face.
He retaliated with a punch of his own that broke her nose. The warm drip of blood gushed like a waterfall down her chin and shirtfront. She stepped backwards from the impact, stars dancing behind her eyes.
“Bastard!” she shouted, eyes closed.
But his reply was cut off by a gurgle. Isis’s eyes flew opened to find him clutching desperately at his throat which had been slit open in a long, angry gash along his neck. More gashes appeared across his face by magic, as if an invisible knife were slicing the outer layers of his skin. He screamed at the pain it caused for as soon as one wound healed, another was inflicted. Until one of the slashes cut too deep into his chest, piercing his heart; Isis heard it pop inside of him and the breath whoosh from his mouth.
His mangled body fell to the floor with a thump, revealing a silhouetted figure behind him. She stepped into the light of the moonlight, her auburn hair was in disarray, cheeks flushed, gold eyes burning and hands held up, palms outward as if ready to recite a spell.
Anya.
Isis swallowed her emotions although there was so much she wished to say. But, what could she say? The accusation was clear in Anya’s eyes as well as in her thoughts. Isis could have explained that she wanted to do this alone, that this was her fight, that she didn’t want—didn’tneed—Anya there to stop her brother. But words slipped from her tongue when she saw the fierce determination in those golden-silver eyes.
Instead of explaining, of apologizing, Isis closed the space between them and took Anya’s face between her bloodied hands. “I have to stop him,” Isis whispered. She could make out Azizi’s moving form a few rooftops away.
