My Master

by Aleera Anaya Ceres

  Caesareon had told her his plan on the ride there. He would command his werewolves, half-demons and vampires to attack and, without a doubt, a certain few would fight back. Demetria and Isis and a couple of werewolves were going to flank him, leading him, protecting him if anything went wrong, if someone tried to attack him.

  They’d take him to the Rotten Banana, a large clothing store that, despite the horrid name, had killer clothes. They’d empty the store and then supernatural after supernatural would bring humans in to be changed. Caesareon would be the one to do the changing, and there would be another store where they would take potential food. Caesareon assured her that a vampire would be there, watching over them and she had no reason to fret.

  It had made her wonder who Caesareon had trusted with that task. She wasn’t sure he trusted anyone more than Demetria. It didn’t matter, the point was that a lot of people were going to die and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do because his hold on her was still strong.

  A simple flick of the hand and Caesareon’s warriors advanced without preamble and started attacking the humans. Isis watched in fascinated grotesque horror as a man jumped through the air, his body rippling as he flew across, and the moment he landed he was on all fours, a giant black wolf. He attacked the nearest man, biting down on his leg.

  Pretty soon screams filled the night and people scrambled around in a pathetic attempt to get away.

  “Look at them all,” Caesareon marveled, an amused glint in his eye. “Scurrying around like mice cornered by felines.”

  If the humans were the mice, and Caesareon and his warriors were the cats, then Isis hated to see who the dog was.

  “Let us advance,” Caesareon commanded.

  So they did.

  The scene was macabre. Antonio had battled Rogue vampires before, he had torn their heads clean from their bodies, driven swords and knives and daggers into their hearts to stop them from beating. But this was worse.

  Werewolves were throwing themselves against teenage boys and girls, dragging them away by their feet, their hollow screams piercing the night only so Antonio could inhale it and feel helpless.

  But he wasn’t helpless. He was strapped in protective gear, a gun containing silver bullets in hand. Most of the FBSI agents held them, and he knew they would be used to take down the werewolves. Victoria kept eyeing his cautiously, as if he would shoot her with it at any given moment. He didn’t blame her for being scared of it, though. Her kind was extremely allergic to silver. He hoped no one would shoot at her.

  “We’ve got to get out there, now!” Victoria barked orders. “Try not to attack civilians, understood?”

  They all murmured their agreements and were off into the havoc, guns firing, fangs bared, red eyes flaring. Victoria turned to Terrance before taking off, pressing a hand to his chest. He nodded and dove into the battle, Victoria following after him, jumping into the air, her skin and clothes exploding from her body, and she became a wolf.

  Antonio swallowed the lump in his throat. Esmeralda, his mind called out to her. He wasn’t even sure she’d be able to hear him from such a distance, but he had to try, he had to tell her he loved her. Esmeralda, you are the best thing to ever happen to me. I love you. And then he dove into battle.

  You are the best thing to ever happen to me. I love you.

  Esmeralda woke with a feeling of dread knotted in her chest. She was so sure that she had heard Antonio’s voice in her mind. She looked around groggily, Mr. Santiago was next to her, a cup of steaming blood in his hand. His eyes looked vacant and worried.

  She looked around the station. Very few officers were there, most of them doing paperwork at their desk. Savvy was behind his computer, playing a game that could have been World of Warcraft, she wasn’t exactly sure.

  Antonio was nowhere to be seen.

  “Mr. Santiago,” she stared quietly. He snapped his attention to her. “Where is Antonio?” He sputtered a string of syllables at her, none of which she could make out. She frowned. “Come again?”

  He only stared at her, and the look in his eyes was all she needed to know. Antonio was gone; he had left, even after she told him about the baby. He had left her unprotected; he had left to get himself killed. Uncontrollable rage gripped her insides and she stood up abruptly, kicking her chair down to the floor, disturbing the silence.

  “Esmeralda,” Mr. Santiago warned, but it was too late. She was already running to the doors, screaming at Antonio in her mind.

  Antonio Santiago you lying traitorous— she broke off that thought with a low growl. How dare you lie to me? She burst out the doors and into the night. A violent cold wind assaulted her face, numbing the feeling on her cheeks.

  He didn’t answer her, no matter how hard she focused on reaching Antonio’s mind, all that came back to her was white noise.

  “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’t one 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 t
hat 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.

  All at once the convulsions stopped, and she lay still.

  “Get up,” Caesareon barked.

  She did, her little face had gone pale her eyes now crimson. There were black spider web veins, like cracks in a porcelain vase, trailing up her pale skin. She looked as though she were made of marble. Cracked, bleeding marble.

  Her head cocked to the side awkwardly, as if she were seeing the world through brand new eyes. Isis supposed that she was. Her senses would be better now, sharper. Isis saw her nostrils flare as she sniffed the air around her.

  “Blood!” she said suddenly. “Blood!” And she turned to the humans on the floor and tried lunging for one.

  “Do not move,” Caesareon ordered, his black pupils swallowing the yellow.

  She obeyed.

  “What is your name, vampire?” he asked smoothly.

  “Rebecca.”

  “Rebecca.” He tasted the name on his tongue. “Very well, Rebecca. You may call me ‘Master.’”

  “Master…” she repeated.

  He smiled. “Very good.”

  And then, one by one, he turned humans against their will.

  21

  Esmeralda doubled over, grasping at her stomach in an attempt to calm the beating she was receiving against it. The pain didn’t stop her from being amazed at how fast she had run there. She was still riding on adrenaline when she straightened out and hid in the shadows along stores, keeping as far away from the light as she could.

  What was happening around her was exactly what she had expected to run in to. Pure hell. The stench of blood filled her nose, making her wrinkle it. It was so overpowering and surprising—she had never been able to smell things that potently before. Her senses were sharper; she was more attuned to what was going on around her. It was easy for her to hear the pounding footsteps stepping on the pavement, more aware of the leaves ruffling, of shallow breathing. Was this what it was like to become a vampire? If so, it was glorious.

  Antonio, where are you? Where are you?

  All that came to her as a reply was white noise.

  She groaned and kept walking along shadows. Why wasn’t he responding? She knew nothing was wrong with him, if he would have been hurt, she would have felt it. She was sure of it.

  Antonio, please, answer me,

  There was a little noise, so light, almost a whisper; it could have been in her mind. A flood of happiness washed through her. Antonio?

  “Pretty girl.”

  She froze where she was as the voice called out to her. A voice so unfamiliar to her, not accented, not deep and rich and beautiful. It wasn’t a voice that spoke home or love. The voice was a low guttural growl.

  She turned and saw, standing a few feet from her, illuminated by a small stream of light, a person—well, not exactly a person—he was standing on two feet, but his face was all wolf, with the dark eyes of a human. His snout was long, jaw gaping, revealing ugly sharp teeth. His muzzle was wet with something thick that couldn’t have been water or saliva. No wonder his voice had sounded like a growl.

  “You are very pretty…” he growled again.

  Which is more than I can say for you, “Thank you,” she mumbled.

  “You smell delightful.”

  She swallowed the rising fear in her throat. “New perfume…” she croaked. She wasn’t sure why she was being a smart ass, it probably wasn’t the brightest idea but she was scared, and she didn’t plan on cowering like a fool.

  “Aren’t you a funny one?” He smiled, his red tongue lolling out. “I bet you taste divine.”

  She fought the urge to gag at the hidden meaning behind what he said. He was going to kill her. He was going to eat her. She put a protective hand to her stomach. He noticed the little movement.

  He raised an eyebrow. “I see,” he said. “I think I’m going to enjoy you very much.”

  She took a step back, only to get her back pressed against a wall. The surge of adrenaline tickled her veins, it tickled her brain. Time slowed out before her, everything was perfectly clear and Esmeralda didn’t even scream when the werewolf pounced.

  There was a nagging at the back of his brain, a voice tickling his mind. It could have been imaginary, for all the attention Antonio paid it. He was too focused on the battle, firing shots at red collared werewolves whenever he saw them.

  The effect a silver bullet could have on a wolf was disconcerting. It’s like the bullet came to life in a wolf’s skin, digging itself into the flesh, expanding, filling them with nasty poison that killed them from the inside. The poison in their blood stream would burst their veins and an exudation of black gooey liquid spurted forth from their eyes, as if they were crying black tears.<
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  Antonio didn’t bother with hiding. He went fully out into the battle, charging down the middle of the plaza until he reached the fountain, not bothering with running around it. His boots went into the cold water, seeping through and filling him with an icy feeling. He shot without thinking twice about it, making it a relatively easy task getting around. He didn’t bother protecting citizens, that’s what the FBSI was there for. He had one interest and one interest only: finding Isis.

  He stomped through the blood stained water, stepping over overturned bodies until he made it to the other side. He shot an advancing wolf and kept going forward. There was a closed off section in the mall, it looked like a dark alleyway to him; stores made of bricks, metal and glass enclosed from the rest of the place. It seemed like one of those sections that nobody even bothered to visit. He made his way toward it, thinking that if he wanted privacy, he would hide there.

  He made it down the alley, next to a store called Rotten Banana and paused for a moment, sniffing the air. He wanted to know what it was he was walking in to. Normally, he would have rushed in without a second thought. But he had to protect himself—for Esmeralda’s sake.

  Suddenly, the glass doors to the Rotten Banana opened and Antonio quickly slid deep into the shadows, holding his breath. Out of the doors came two werewolves, behind them a line of humans with shredded clothes and blank expressions. No—not humans—he squinted his eyes closely. Newly Made vampires. Their eyes were red and blank, their fangs nipping their bottom lips and extracting blood. So, it seemed that Caesareon had begun his plan; had begun to create his army.

  The last of the newly Made vampires stepped forward and walked out of sight, going back to the opposite direction into the battle, or so it seemed. It looked as though they were being led off into a different store. Antonio didn’t bother to wonder about it. He was about to step out into the light and go into the store when another girl came out.