He stopped when he saw her approaching, for he wouldn’t dare hurt Isis, and Caesareon knew it and he knew that it would hurt Isis all the more to kill someone she loved. Isis struck out at Antonio with her hands, shoving him backwards with vampire force. He cried out as he fell, banging his head against the tile floor of the store, causing it to crush down. He sat up and rubbed his head.
Isis saw the fear in his eyes. Antonio wanted to get to Caesareon, but it wouldn’t happen unless he went through Isis first. And Antonio and Isis had always play wrestled for years, and Isis had always wound up beating him. She could only hope he was strong enough to take her down, because she couldn’t stop herself from hurting him.
Antonio hopped up gracefully onto his feet, shaking his hair back and forth. Kill him! That deep sinister voice spoke into her mind. She ran to him again, this time, he didn’t hesitate. Instead of attacking, he defended himself against her blows, dodging her moves in twirls and flips.
He had just pushed her back, causing her to fall on her bottom, and when she stood up she noticed something gleaming in his hand. It was the gun, and he was pointing it at Caesareon. For a second she thought she wouldn’t be able to move, but she did. Jumping up, she ran to Antonio, knocking him to the side just as the gun went off.
The blow sent the gun whirling across the floor. Isis stood up from Antonio and turned to look at Caesareon. He was standing exactly where he had been earlier; the bullet hadn’t even whizzed by him. He was staring at them with angry boredom.
“Isis,” he said. “Tear his head from his body.”
Isis drifted her gaze over to Antonio. Blood was running out of his nostrils, probably from the impact of Isis knocking him to the ground. She screamed at herself from the inside to not do what Caesareon wanted, but her mind and her body were different, no longer in sync with each other. So she took Antonio’s throat in her hand, digging her nails into his skin. He winced, but made no struggle.
“Isis,” he whispered. “I know you’re in there. Don’t listen to him. This isn’t you!”
“Silence this fool, Isis.”
Isis choked Antonio. He gasped.
“You’re…not…like…this…” Antonio managed to say.
Caesareon growled. “Show him your true nature, Isis. Show him who you really are, who you were meant to be. Kill him.”
She gripped him with both hands now, prepared to crack his neck to the side.
“Not…a monster…”
Antonio’s neck burned beneath her palms, like she was being branded by his scar. The scar that his twin brother had put there. The brother that he had killed. She wasn’t the only one who had killed a sibling, and she doubted she would be the last. She didn’t want to kill Antonio—he wouldn’t die by her hand. She fought for control over her body, fought for her mind to control the movements that she long desired.
“Isis, what are you waiting for? Obey me, and kill him!” Caesareon sounded angry now, his voice low, and maybe, she thought, a little weak as well.
She stared Antonio in the eyes. They weren’t flaring red, but they were a calm shining black, smooth like marbles or oil, and they were staring at her with no judgment, no fear and no anger. He was staring at her with love. And his black eyes reminded her of someone else’s. Someone who had loved her, someone whom she loved as well.
“Damn it, you insolent weakling, KILL HIM!”
“Isis,” Antonio gasped frantically.
Something in her mind wavered and then clicked, and all at once, everything came back to her.
“Isis.” A frantic whisper and strong hands shook her awake. “Isis, wake up!”
Isis opened her eyes and sat up in bed, staring face to face with the culprit who had awakened her from a pleasant dream. His black eyes shone with fear and she was instantly alert.
“What’s wrong,” she demanded, looking around their small home. Her mother was sleeping, her chest rising and falling easily.
“I thought I heard someone outside,” her brother told her.
She calmed down. “It was probably an animal, or someone sneaking off to do something they should not be doing. Do not fret over it. Go to sleep.”
He shook his head back and forth. “No, I know it wasn’t an animal. It was a person, no one from our village. I looked out and saw him. He had glowing eyes.”
Isis rolled her eyes. Her little brother had such an active imagination and once he got going with a story, it was hard to convince him that it wasn’t real. She lay back down, getting comfortable when he pulled her up again.
“What?” It was late and she wanted to get some sleep if she was to wake early in the morning and go out to sell the new perfumes she had made.
“I told you, there’s someone outside!”
“And I told you that it’s probably someone doing naughty things.”
His eyebrows scrunched together she could see them, even in the dark. He crossed his arms against his little twelve year old chest in a pout. “You never listen to me. Never.”
Isis felt a little guilty. He was a young boy without a father, dying to be heard, dying to become a man. She resisted the urge to mention that he would never be a man if he was crying all of the time, but didn’t. It had been hard for them when their father died of sickness. If anything, he was the man of the house now and it fell upon him to look after Isis and their mother. She supposed she could humor him and his imagination, if only for a moment.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll go look.”
“I’ll come with you!” He reached for his little bone handled dagger—the one that had been their father’s. He gripped it tightly and stepped out first. Isis muttered under her breath and followed, stepping out with him and into the night. A cool breeze wafted against her heated skin. If only it could have been that cold during the day, she thought bitterly as she followed her brother.
Sand seeped through her bare toes as he led her down by the river, by the darkness. “I saw it over here,” he whispered, poising the knife in front of him. Isis looked over his head, but saw nothing but darkness.
“What was it you said you saw?” She walked to the edge of the water and bent down, cupping her hands together and filling them with water; she splashed it against her face.
“Red eyes,” he mumbled in frustration. “It’s what I saw!!!”
“Keep your voice down.” She hushed him. She didn’t need everyone and their mother’s waking up to find them down there. “I bet it was just a snake.”
He groaned. “A snake that was very tall and looked human? I am not stupid, sister.”
Isis shrugged. “Whatever.” She stood up, wiping the remains of the water against the fabric of her clothes. “I’m going back to sleep. Stay out here in the dark if you want.” And she walked back without waiting to see if he would follow.
Crawling back into their home, Isis fell asleep instantly but she felt as though it didn’t last, because a little while later, screams woke her up. She found that she was alone in her home, the stench of fire burning into her nostrils. She burst outside and gaped in horror.
The people of her village were on fire, burning, running around screaming as the flames scorched their flesh, lighting up the night sky and filling it with an awful stench. She instinctively called for her brother.
There was no reply.
Running…running…feet carrying her as far as she could go. Darkness swallowed her whole, led her down an unknown path, an endless way into nothing…absolutely nothing. The flash of red beckoned her. Steady and uncontrollable as a flame, and as evil as snake eyes. But she had to follow it. She had to.
Arms pumping, breath shallow, chest squeezing as air left her lungs…Isis didn’t notice the figure on the ground until she tripped over it and fell.
She twisted awkwardly in the sand and sat up. Even in the darkness she would recognize her own brother’s shape, hear his cries. Relief coursed through her and she pulled him in to her arms. “My brother,” she cried, gripping him. “Are you hurt?”
She pushed him back and patted down his arms, his sides, his face.
“I am fine,” he sniffled. “The village…”
Isis shook her head. “Worry about them later. Did mother come with you?” And why did you leave me alone? She wanted to ask, but couldn’t bring herself to. Not under the circumstances.
He shook his head. “It is why I want to get back to the village and find her.”
A rising lump prevented her from swallowing. “Why did you come all the way out here?” she asked, looking at her surroundings. There was nothing there but darkness and sand, probably snakes and scorpions as well.
“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.’”
After a click…it ended. All of her memories, every moment in her life, the change, she remembered all of it. She let go of Antonio and turned to the man that ruined her life: Caesareon, her Master. His eyes were blazing.
“What the hell are you doing, Isis? Kill him! I command you to kill him!”
She saw the way his pupils throbbed but were unable to attain her. For once, he had lost Isis. For once, he had lost all control over her.
“You can’t command me to do anything anymore.”
His gaze wavered into panic, soon replaced by fury.
Isis stood in a face off against her creator, feeling all of her own fury, all of her rage pour from her. She had hated him before but what she felt now—it went beyond that in every way imaginable. She wanted him not only dead, but to suffer in Hell.
“You can’t control me anymore. I broke free of
your chains, Caesareon. I am yours no longer.” Behind her, Antonio coughed and jumped to his feet next to her. He was rubbing his neck.
“Glad to have you back.” He offered her an encouraging smile.
She nodded. “I’m glad to be back.”
Caesareon threw his head back and laughed. “You think you two can beat me? It would take an army to attempt to bring me down, and even they would fail.”
Yet Isis saw doubt in his eyes. Something was weakening him. She could care less what it was, only that it was happening and she’d use it to her advantage. “We’ll see,” she muttered and wanted nothing more than to rush forward and rip his bastard throat out, to tear his head from his body and pull him apart, limb by limb. But she had to calculate his every move or else she’d end up dead. She was almost positive that this time he wouldn’t keep her alive.
Caesareon’s eyes throbbed, tried to pierce her but she felt nothing. It was like an invisible force field had covered her mind and his attempts bounced off and away from her.
“It’s not going to work anymore…” Isis said smoothly. “I suggest you stop trying.”
Caesareon glowered at her. “So, I give you the life of the gods and this is how you choose to repay me? To team up with this…” He shot a distasteful look at Antonio. “…human lover in an attempt to kill me? I see how deep your loyalty runs, my warrior.”
“I’ve never been loyal to you!” she spat. “I hated you the moment I set eyes on you. I despised you even more for what you made me do to my brother. You killed my mother, didn’t you? Sucked her dry? Burnt my village to ashes? Forced me to kill my brother and then tried to use me for your own selfish purposes!”
Caesareon smirked. “Do not tell me you didn’t want it. Do you remember how sweet his blood tasted? How the first drop of it only made you crave it all the more? You could not resist the temptation your little brother provoked. You have only yourself to blame.”
My Master Page 18