My Master

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My Master Page 20

by Aleera Anaya Ceres


  And Esmeralda held her hand out, beckoning her forward. All Isis had to do was reach out…stretch…and she was pulled to the top, air filling her lungs.

  Antonio watched Esmeralda as she watched Isis. Sometimes he would leave the room and when he came back, Esmeralda would be talking to Isis animatedly. As soon as he’d step into the room she’d go silent, a sly smile on her face and she’d continue whispering to Isis in hushed tones. Half of the time he hardly paid attention, too caught up in his own mind. When he did pay attention he caught snippets about the baby that Ezzy was carrying.

  Ezzy no longer wore hoodies to hide it. Maria had brought her back a bag full of clothes; all T-shirts and sweatpants and tights, so she was proudly showing off her swollen belly. Oh, how he longed to reach out and run his hands across her stomach, to talk to his child. He didn’t know what was holding him back, maybe because Esmeralda had been practically glued to Isis’s bed since they had brought her to the hospital.

  He sighed. The day wasn’t easily forgettable.

  After Isis had passed out he picked her up and carried her outside to find that the FBSI had gained control over the situation. There was an ambulance nearby and he had gotten to it as fast as he could, only to find Esmeralda in the back of the van, unconscious, and bruised, Maria at her side.

  He passed Isis off to a doctor and demanded to know what had happened. Apparently Ezzy had chased after him to the battle without a second thought. She was trying to go to the Rotten Banana when Maria had been forced to knock her out. As soon as Ezzy awoke, she was at Isis’s side, practically living there for months and Isis still hadn’t woken up.

  The doctors said she suffered from exhaustion and trauma but he had never known anyone to sleep for that long. It made him wonder if Caesareon had left her with some kind of damage in her brain.

  “Isis, if you want Ezzy to stop talking your ear off then you should seriously wake up.” Ezzy stuck her tongue out at him, making him smile. “Ezzy, you really should sleep, you look exhausted.”

  She studied him for a moment before replying. “So should you,” she said. “In fact, you look worse than I feel.”

  There was no point in arguing. She was right, of course. He hadn’t slept a wink for days, even when he was supposed to be in his day sleep, his body just wouldn’t shut down. He felt a pull at his eyes now, though. He walked over to Ezzy and kissed her forehead.

  “I love you, Ezzy.” He almost imagined Isis waking up to roll her eyes at him. She didn’t, so he went back to the little couch and plopped himself on it. Daylight was on its way, he could feel it in his bones. Luckily there were no windows in supernatural hospitals. If there were, well, most of the patients would have probably burnt to a crisp. The only light from the room emanated from fluorescent bulbs that were so white they hurt his eyes, so white that they reminded him of the Otherworld.

  This time, when Antonio closed his eyes, he fell asleep.

  Another dream, another sunset, painted crimson against the sky. Antonio’s heart clenched and unclenched as he stared out at nothing in particular. The wind touched his bare skin, calming him in a manner that was foreign to him. It was always the same dream, every night, and he knew that this was just a dream as well. All that was missing was…

  “Hello, brother,”

  Antonio didn’t need to turn around and gape in surprise anymore; he was already used to his twin brother’s presence in his dreams. He just sat there, his legs dangling off the side of the rooftop, his hands poised behind him. “Hello, Damien,” he whispered in a voice that was surprisingly light. Damien sat down next to him, his legs dangling over the side as well.

  “I trust all has turned out well on the other side?” Damien asked casually.

  Antonio nodded. He wasn’t really in a talking mood, after the hell he’d been through he was surprised he could even sleep, let alone dream. Talking was the last thing on his mind. He looked over at his brother, eyeing him steadily. He was dressed in his typical outfit and hairstyle, he was leaning back in the same way that Antonio was, he was looking out at the sky, the colors of the world casting intense color arrangements in his eyes.

  Antonio knew that he should be mad at his brother for many things, should feel guilty for killing him, but he couldn’t find the energy to do so anymore. All he felt was a hollowness inside, an ache of loneliness.

  “And Esmeralda?” Damien asked, surprising Antonio with the casualty of the question. It wasn’t a question meant to poke fun or irritate him, it was as if he actually cared and was truthfully curious.

  “Pregnant,” Antonio said.

  Damien pulled back one side of his mouth in a smile. “May I ask what you plan on naming the child?”

  Antonio shrugged. “Haven’t decided yet, I’m sure Esmeralda will think of something, though.”

  “If I may make a suggestion, brother.”

  Antonio shrugged, indicating that he could care less if Damien made a suggestion or not. Even if he had declined, his brother would have made a suggestion anyway. He really didn’t like to obey Antonio…

  “Be a part of this child’s life. Do not make the same mistakes that our father made.”

  Antonio could see in his eyes what Damien meant. When they were children, Marco Santiago had pushed them; he had tried forcing them into becoming something that they never were or never could be. Antonio hardly minded; he never paid attention to what his father said, because it had never been important. He got around just fine on his own and didn’t need the man. Damien, however, had affection for the fool and let himself be lead around like a dog on a leash, always trying to please his master, but still failing just the same, resulting in endless fights.

  Antonio nodded. “I will, thank you.” He paused before asking. “What’s the Otherworld like?”

  Damien shrugged and leaned back on his elbow, watching a sunset that, undoubtedly, he’d never be able to see either. “If I could sum it up in one word: dreadful. But the Otherworld is just. I deserve the punishment I get.”

  Antonio stared at him with surprise. This was certainly a new side of his brother that he had never seen before. He was expecting a rampage of uncontrollable anger, a hissy fit, a lot of swearing and cursing upon those who made his fate as thus. He hadn’t expected him to accept it with a simple shrug. Hell, maybe the Otherworld was doing him a whole lot of good.

  “So why are you here?” Antonio asked. “I know that spirits can’t enter dreams unless it’s absolutely necessary. I mean, isn’t that what you said?”

  “I have one last task that I must deal with, yes.”

  Antonio found his brother’s eyes, brown, even in this lighting. Antonio had always wondered why Carlos, Damien and Maria had inherited their mother’s big brown beautiful eyes and he had inherited his father’s black ones? He felt as though black eyes were a bottomless pit of nothing—empty—soulless.

  “And what task is that?”

  Damien smiled, the corner of his mouth tugging up a fraction. “To make amends.”

  Antonio raised an eyebrow. Amends? Surely he wasn’t serious? Noticing his expression, Damien smiled even wider now, a little laugh bubbling out of his mouth.

  “Yes, to make amends, mi hermano, is that so hard to believe?”

  If he thought about it hard, it really wasn’t.

  “Hermano, quiero pedirte perdón.” Damien switched to their Spanish dialect. “I know I have done nothing to earn your forgiveness, or the forgiveness of anyone else, but I must tell you that I am sorry. Being in the Otherworld has opened my eyes to many things, and I only wish I could have realized them sooner, so that none of this would have ever happened.” He paused, sucking in a ragged breath. “I hope, in time, you can forgive me. If you can’t—not right now—I will understand.”

  Antonio looked at his brother. Really looked at him. Damien’s face was a mirror image of his own, with only slight differences. His hair was gelled back, his eyes brown and big. He was wearing his tailored suit, without the jacket, his white c
ollared shirt unbuttoned, revealing his dark chest. He looked so real, yet Antonio knew otherwise.

  He had been so mad at him, for the longest time. Mad that he had convinced his father to ban Antonio from the coven, mad that he had tried to change Ezzy. He had missed him as well, missed that twin connection they had never shared when they were younger. Mostly, he had been sad about the way things had turned out. He wanted his brother back; he wanted things to be all right. And he didn’t want to be sad anymore.

  “Yes,” Antonio replied in a whisper. “Of course I forgive you.”

  Damien let out a breath that Antonio hadn’t realize he’d been holding. “I’m relieved to hear that, my brother.” He smiled. “Now, I am afraid that I have no more business here in the dreamland, so I must get back to suffer my punishment in the Otherworld.” He stood up, leaving Antonio to follow.

  “Do you really suffer that much in the Otherworld?” Antonio followed his brother to the middle of the roof, where they stood a few feet apart, staring at each other. The wind ruffled their hair around and they squinted against it. It made Antonio wonder if this was a sign that Damien was leaving.

  Damien shrugged. “Until recently it hasn’t been. At first I suffered, alone. But after I had a talk with someone important I realized my mistakes and turned myself around. So I do not suffer nearly as much anymore.”

  Antonio walked over to him and put his hand on his shoulder in affection. “Well, I wish you the best of happiness, brother.”

  As Damien smiled, a light shone behind him, like a bright white limelight. Antonio thought that this was when Damien would disappear, leaving him alone. But Damien opened his eyes in surprise and turned around. Antonio noticed that behind his brother, just below the light, a dark line had materialized. It was the outline of a body, roughly looking like a sketch until it became a silhouette. The darkness cleared, the air rippled, and the figure became the clear features of a girl. Much to Antonio’s surprise, she looked like Esmeralda.

  He thought that she had made her way into his dreams again. But then Damien whispered in a startled manner, “Esperanza…” And he ran towards the girl frantically, like he was afraid that she would disappear into wisps of smoke. But when he reached her, he didn’t touch her, only stared.

  Antonio got a good look at the girl. She did look a lot like Esmeralda, but he could tell now that she wasn’t. This girl had the same deep blue eyes and pale skin, but her hair was black and in pigtails down her shoulders. What was it that Damien had called her? Esperanza? He wondered who she was.

  “It is time to leave, my love,” she whispered in a mist like voice that sounded kind of like a song, distant and evaporating.

  He reached out, hesitantly, and touched her cheek with his fingertips. She leaned into his touch, smiling as she did so. A tear fell down her eye.

  “Where are we going?” He asked.

  “To the beyond…”

  They both began to shimmer and fade, together. Antonio was gripped with sadness. “Wait!” he called out. “Wait, Damien!”

  His fading stopped and he turned, concerned. “Yes? What is it, brother?”

  “Will I ever see you again?”

  Damien smiled and shook his head, slowly. “Probably not.” And he stepped forward, placing his hand on his brother’s shoulder. Up close, Antonio could see that his brother, for once, seemed genuinely happy. “But remember me, and I’ll always be with you, my brother.”

  Antonio didn’t have to think about how cheesy that sounded, but it didn’t matter, because it was true. He pulled his brother into his arms and hugged him, their arms wrapped around each other with familiarity.

  After a moment Damien parted and walked back over to Esperanza, and took her hand in his. “Brother, one last question before I leave. I’ve always wondered: why is it always the sunset?”

  Antonio was caught off guard. But the answer was automatic. “I barely know myself, maybe it’s because it’s a mystery to me. I’m a Natural Born vampire, I don’t know what the sun feels like, I’ve only ever heard people describe it to me. And sunsets I’ve only ever seen in pictures, so dreaming about it, well, I guess it’s the closest thing I have to something real, the only thing I have in my life that’s tangible, you know?”

  Damien shook his head sadly. “Oh, but how wrong you are, hermano. Sunsets come and go. Family, and the memories you create? Those are forever. Those are real.”

  And then both of them shimmered, disappearing, this time, for good. Antonio stared at the empty spot where his brother had been then turned back to the sunset that always used to last forever, never truly setting. But, as if by some miracle, it hid beyond the horizon and a warm darkness enveloped him and, for once, he welcomed it.

  25

  “Go get something to eat,” Antonio demanded, yet again.

  “But—”

  “No. I’ll watch over Isis, just go get some food, okay?”

  She finally sighed in defeat when her stomach let out a loud rumble. She was hungry, she needed to keep her energy up for her child so she could grow up fast and strong then get the hell out of her. She didn’t like feeling like a small sack of potatoes was tied around her stomach. It hurt her back and she was constantly tired. Her mood was hardly any better. One minute she felt like crying and the next she felt like punching someone in the throat. With a sigh, Ezzy headed to the cafeteria and sat to eat.

  After she ate she picked up a bottle of blood for Antonio and headed out to the room. As she rounded the corner she bumped into a familiar face. “Victoria!” Relief coursed through her. Last time she had seen Victoria, the woman was on the brink of death. She didn’t look too hot now; her face was still pale, her veins dark grey. There were circles under her eyes and she was wearing one of those hospital night shirts, the kind with no back. Definitely didn’t look too hot, but certainly better. Esmeralda had the urge to hug her but wasn’t sure if it would be welcome. “You look—”

  “Like shit?” Her voice was hoarse, her cracked lips split open.

  “I was going to say better.” Victoria snorted. “No, you really do look better.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t feel so hot.”

  Esmeralda felt guilty. If it hadn’t been for her, Victoria wouldn’t have been stabbed by that vampire. She opened her mouth to apologize but Victoria interrupted.

  “It’s not your fault, Ms. Ortiz. Well, not entirely. A number of things could have happened to me there and I had the misfortune of taking a silver dagger to the side. A giant pain in the ass, but a risk I’m willing to take on the job.” She reached out and ruffled Esmeralda’s hair. “But next time don’t put yourself at risk, okay?”

  Esmeralda bit her bottom lip and nodded. Then there was a growl behind Victoria. She turned her head then turned back.

  “Speaking of pain in the asses, Terrance won’t leave me alone.”

  Terrance materialized behind her, a scowl on his handsome face. “What are you doing up?” he demanded.

  Victoria shrugged. “Next time you volunteer to stand guard for the patient, make sure you don’t fall asleep. I’m hungry, okay? And hospital food sucks.”

  He growled something inaudible that Ezzy couldn’t quite hear but made Victoria laugh. Esmeralda sidestepped them and walked ahead, but not before catching the glare that Terrance shot her. Convincing Victoria that she was sorry was one thing. Convincing Terrance, on the other hand, was another matter entirely. And from the look on his face—well, it was obvious he wasn’t forgiving her any time soon.

  “Ezzy’s pregnant, Isis. To be honest, I’m scared to death. I don’t know if I’ll be a good dad or not. I just—” He paused, searching for the right words for what he was feeling. “I just don’t want Ezzy to be disappointed in me. I don’t want to fail the kid.” He felt tears prickle the inside of his eyes but wouldn’t let them fall. He cleared his throat and reached for Isis’s hand, holding onto it, warming it. “I really do want this child,” he whispered. “We could name her after one of our mother’s. ‘
Maria’ or ‘Katheryn’. Or we could name her after you and nickname her ‘Izzy’.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea!” He turned, startled, to the doorway. Ezzy was standing there holding a bottle of blood, smiling with tears in her eyes.

  He stood up abruptly.

  “If we have a daughter we can name her after Isis! It’s perfect!” She wiped away tears from her cheeks. She gasped and put a hand to her stomach. Antonio was instantly worried and in front of her.

  “What?”

  Ezzy laughed. “Our kid is kicking, feel.” She grabbed his hand and placed it on her hard belly. His eyes widened. This was the first time he had touched her stomach and he could feel the little pulse of the baby underneath. He smiled. “Talk to her,” Ezzy encouraged.

  Antonio hesitated only a moment before bending down and lifting her shirt up. Antonio kissed the bare skin on her stomach and whispered against her flesh. “Hey, Squirt,” he smiled. “It’s me, your daddy.” If he was honest with himself, he wasn’t even sure if the kid would hear him. He had heard that babies could hear the voices of their parents—even recognize them. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but there are just a few words of advice I want to give you.”

  Peeking through his eyelashes up at Esmeralda, he saw her raise her eyebrows, but there was humor on her face. “I don’t know if you should be giving out advice; our child is sure to turn out a wreck.”

  “Quiet, you,” he demanded and stroked her stomach. “Anyway, Squirt, a few words of advice: don’t argue with your mother, because she likes to be right, even if she’s wrong.”

  “So not true!” Esmeralda argued.

  “See, Squirt? She’s wrong, but you admit she’s right, every time.”

  Esmeralda swatted at him playfully, but let him continue.

 

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