part0007

Grimacing, Reina shovelled gruel from a wooden bowl into her mouth, devouring it almost instantaneously. The previous night she had narrowly missed being hauled down to the food huts; she was determined she would not be caught slacking again. The gruel was disgusting, but it was sustenance and she needed all the energy she could get.

As she stepped outside of the hut, her breath rose in front of her in small puffs. She couldn’t tell how much time had passed, but she could guess from the changing weather a few years had passed at least. Lance wanted me to survive a few years, she thought, cringing behind a building as a group of vampires swarmed past. Would he recognise me if he saw me? She had only ever seen her reflection in the surface of water back home. In Tenebrae she had not seen it once. She was never given the opportunity to bathe properly; all she could do was splash freezing water at rare moments in a weak attempt to wash. He probably doesn’t even remember me.

Reina had seen Lance only a handful of times; each time he hadn’t so much as glanced at her. Perhaps she could begin to relax – there was one less threat to her life. But how much longer could she avoid the inevitable? She had grown to accept she would die in Tenebrae, but she was still terrified how she would find her end.

How much longer can I go on? The question was one Reina found herself constantly asking. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to walk into Death’s embrace. She continued to keep her head down, cleaning latrines, dyeing fabric and anything else that would keep her away from the food huts and auction house.

Those unfortunate enough to be sold at auction were rarely seen again. They were kept within the mansion, confined to whatever duties their master or mistress ordered them to perform. As Reina forced herself to begin walking, the ground under her bare feet crunched painfully. She decided to go to the back of the dressmaker’s shop; there was a cramped hut where rags and scraps of fabric were left for the slaves to sew together. There were also several looms that more of the skilled slaves had learnt to use but Reina had never been able to grasp and soon given up attempting to weave. Her needle skills were less than desirable but at least she had learnt enough to be of some use.

Walking in the direction of the dressmaker’s, Reina could see a gathering of vampires at the auction house. Suppressing a shudder, she turned around and fled in the other direction. A large gathering such as that could mean only one thing; there was a sale due. Quickly she scanned the area for other slaves, to see if anyone else had noticed, but there was no one around. Get to the huts and warn them, she told herself. It would be impossible for everyone to save themselves, but a warning was better than nothing.

Already Reina could see she was too late. Vampires were entering the small huts where the slaves would attempt to snatch a few hours’ sleep. Swallowing a lump in her throat, she could only watch helplessly as people were dragged from their sleep, some kicking out against their captors.

'You there!' Forcing herself not to break out into a run, Reina turned at the voice. Instantly she recognised the dark-haired vampire from her journey to Tenebrae so long ago. 'What are you doing?'

'T – The stables, mistress,' Reina stammered lamely. 'I heard supplies arrived just a short while ago. I thought it best to make sure the horses were warm enough with the weather going cold.' Julianna’s silver eyes seemed to appraise Reina, as if judging what she was worth. She seemed to pause as she stared at Reina’s eyes and frowned in brief recognition. Unable to stop herself, Reina took a step backwards, begging her feet not to break into a run.

'Stand still,' Julianna snapped, reaching out to grab Reina’s arm.

'No!' Reina cried out, terrified, her hand slapping Julianna’s away.

'Insolent wretch,' the woman hissed, reaching out and seizing Reina’s wrist, her free hand backhanding Reina across the face. Her grip was painfully tight, and Reina cried out as she felt the bones in her wrist began to crack.

'I – I’m sorry,' Reina gasped, 'please I – I didn’t mean to.'

'I was simply going to ask you to deliver this. However, perhaps you need to be taught some obedience. Hitting your superiors is not something that is tolerated here.' Julianna’s eyes left Reina’s face as she looked behind her. No, please no, Reina wanted to plead, but somehow managed to keep her mouth shut. She didn’t need to look behind to know that Julianna had realised an auction was about to begin.

Reina forced herself to go slack as Julianna led her to the auction house. It will be over soon; please God, tonight let it be over. An odd sense of calm took over her. How long had she feared this would happen? How long had she kept herself out of sight for fear that she would be sold?

The main hall of the auction house was cavernous and filled with hundreds of seats. Towards the top of the hall was a large stage empty except for a podium in the centre front. No; the calmness turned to ice as Reina saw Lance kneeling beside a slave and fixing a chain to their leg. Dozens of voices echoed throughout, and Reina fought back the urge to snatch her wrist free and cover her ears. She was used to people screaming, but the shouts and numbers of conversation taking place around her were too much. For so long she had tried to keep to herself, she had barely spoken to other slaves.

'Has she been registered?' Lance looked over his shoulder as Julianna approached the stage. Would either of them recognise her? Quickly Reina lowered her eyes and fixed her gaze on a dark spot on the floor.

'Nobody actually does that.' Julianna’s tone was waspish as she dragged Reina to the end of the stage.

'It would hardly be fair on the vampire who brought her in. They should get something – besides, what if you had brought her in?'

Julianna paused and forced Reina to look at her.

'You do look familiar,' the woman mumbled and clucked her tongue. 'Do not start the auction without her.' Reina had no choice but to follow the woman back down the steps of the stage and through a side door. She recognised the smaller room; it was one she had been in several times when delivering messages to a plump vampire. The vampire himself was seated behind a cluttered desk, scratching his chin with the tip of a quill.

'I’m busy,' he barked, barely glancing up from the papers before him.

'As am I,' Julianna snapped, leading Reina over to a wall where a pair of shackles were secured. They were loose on her thin wrists, but she pretended not to notice as Julianna retreated. 'Do not start the auction without her,' she repeated, and the plump vampire snorted in reply, but still he did not look up from his paperwork. Convinced that he was occupied with his work, Reina began to twist her left wrist slowly, trying to gently coax it out of the shackle.

'What do you achieve by escaping?' the vampire asked, turning to look at her as he set his quill down. 'You’ll only be sentenced to death.'

I’m going to die anyway, Reina wanted to reply but instead let her wrists fall loosely to her sides. Only once in all the time she had been in Tenebrae had a slave attempted an escape. Their punishment had been enough to deter anyone else from trying.

'Don.' Reina glanced up to see a dark-haired vampire striding forwards. She flinched as their eyes seemed to meet and she quickly looked away, but she could feel his gaze lingering on her. 'What’s wrong with that one?'

'Damien, good evening. I can only assume Julianna was foolish enough to think Lance would take her without her mark being checked. You know he is loath to be out of pocket.'

'She can’t be a recent one of his if he didn’t remember her.'

'Well if she does not return soon then this one can go to the food huts.’ Reina’s breath caught in her throat and her eyes shot between the two vampires. Whatever happens tonight, this will be my last. Reina leant her head against the wall and closed her eyes. She could feel tears prickling against her eyelids, but she refused to let them fall. She would not cry in front of these demons.

'You will not start the auction without her,' a voice snapped. 'It is not my fault some incompetent fool has not filed her mark!'

'What are you talking about? Of course her mark would have been filed. Check again.'

'I did!' Julianna insisted, her voice rising to an almost shrill level. 'I checked several times, I am telling you her mark is not there.'

'Then take her to the food huts.' The plump vampire sighed and pushed his chair back. With a grunt of effort, he heaved himself to his feet. Opening her eyes, Reina watched the trio of vampires, confused as to why the tall dark-haired vampire was still standing there.

'No – just sell her, why should I care about who brought her? She certainly isn’t one of mine, far too scrawny.'

'I am not permitted to sell people without having registered them.'

'You have done it before,' Julianna spat.

'Who will buy her, Julianna? There is no one here and it must be done discreetly. Just accept your loss and take her to the food huts – or keep her until the next auction. Just try to keep her in a fit state.' Reina met Julianna’s eyes, forcing herself not to flinch as the vampire let out a feral growl. Turning back to Don, Julianna continued to argue. She was oblivious as the dark-haired vampire approached Reina.

'Don’t,' she whispered as his fingers trailed across her scar. 'Please…'

'You would rather go to the food huts?' His voice was low, and Reina could barely hear him. She focused on the floor; she had no choice of what would happen to her so what did it matter what she wanted? 'I must be a fool,' the man sighed before stepping back and turning to face the other two. 'Perhaps I could buy her,' he said in a lazy drawl.

'You?' Julianna scoffed. 'You hate slaves – you act as if this is beneath you.'

'Do you want to make money tonight or not? Either of you?' He looked between the two vampires pointedly. 'Take her to the food huts or sell her to me, off the books. The choice is yours, Don.'

'Why bother keeping records if we are not going to do things properly?' Don sulked, his lower lip sticking out.

'You said it yourself – you sell off the books.' Reina spoke out loud without thinking. Her eyes widened slightly as the three pairs of silver eyes turned to her, two scowling and one with barely concealed intrigue. 'You might as well sell me to him; if you send me to the food huts…well…things can slip out when you’re terrified.' She was surprised at her own audacity and wondered if she was making things worse. Did she really want this stranger to buy her? Glancing at the dark-haired vampire, she tried to judge which would be the quicker death. He certainly didn’t look cruel, but then she had been fooled by that before.

'Watch it, slave,' Don hissed. 'I do not take kindly to threats.'

And yet you have nothing to threaten me with, Reina wanted to point out but somehow managed to keep her mouth shut. She had no idea why she was encouraging her own sale, but it was either that or be left to Julianna’s mercy. The vampires moved away from Reina and crowded around Don’s desk. They spoke in hushed tones and she rolled her eyes – why so secretive?

'You mention this to no one, slave,' Don hissed as he freed Reina from her chains and roughly pulled her forwards. 'None of you mention this.'

'I should get a bigger cut.' Julianna scowled. 'I brought her here; I did all the work—'

'If you had done the work properly she would have gone to auction. Then you may have made more…then again she might not have sold at all.' The tall vampire, Damien, shrugged. Turning to Reina, his nose wrinkled in disgust and he gestured for her to follow him. The air was crisp on Reina's flushed skin and her legs buckled as she stepped outside of the auction house. Whether from fear or relief she couldn’t tell. 'When we get to my rooms you will bathe. Your stench is foul.'

'If it bothers you that much then perhaps you should have left me to my death,' Reina shot at him. Would he kill her quicker if she antagonised him? But rather than replying, Damien simply continued walking. His strides were long, and Reina struggled to keep up with him. As they approached the mansion her footsteps faltered, and she almost tripped up the steps. How many times had she washed these steps but never crossed the threshold? 'I – I can't go in there!'

'You're mine now. I paid good money for you; I'm hardly going to leave you outside for someone else to feast upon.' Reina tried not to let him see the fear his words struck. With an impatient growl, Damien pulled her through to the inside of the mansion and led her up several staircases. Despite her fear, Reina couldn't help but be overwhelmed at the interior of the mansion. The walls and floors were clearly carved from the rock of the mountain, but they had been covered with thick tapestries and carpets.

The hallways were filled with a stifling silence. She had expected the inside to be crawling with vampires and was surprised that they didn't come across a single person. Damien paused outside a door and pulled a key which hung on a leather cord around his neck. Opening the door, he pushed Reina inside, surprisingly gentle all of a sudden. She stood beside the door, shivering slightly; she had gotten used to the freezing cold outside but inside there was something unnaturally frigid within the air. Nervously she watched as Damien crossed the room, gesturing her to follow him through another door.

'Bathe,' he commanded, and Reina noticed the luxurious porcelain bath gleaming beneath the gas lantern.

'W – Where do I get the water from?' Her cheeks flushed from embarrassment; she knew where the well was but was she really expected to haul several buckets worth up the stairs? With a scathing look, Damien pointed to the golden faucets, but Reina only looked at them blankly.

'Peasants,' he grunted, leaning down and twisting a silver-looking knob. Thick water poured into the bath and soon the small room was filled with steam. 'Do not out those rags back on. I will have fresh clothes brought up for you, those I will burn.'

Reina watched Damien apprehensively as he stepped out of the small room, closing the door behind him. She waited for the door to open, fully or just a crack, but she was relieved when it remained shut. Without a second thought she discarded her ragged dress and clambered into the bath.

For the first time since her arrival to Tenebrae, Reina was able to wash and properly study herself. She was disgusted at her appearance; her limbs were sickeningly thin, and the bones of her joints were prominent. It was as if her skin had merely been painted onto bones. Picking up a bar of soap, she ran it over her skin, working it into a lather. She watched mesmerised as her skin was washed free of its grime, revealing a flushed red in its place. As she washed she was startled to see her body had changed more than she’d thought. Her chest jiggled ever so slightly and for the first time she realised she had started to grow breasts. When? she thought, sitting back and staring at her chest in shock. How old was she? Cassandra had been sixteen, but her curves had been more noticeable. Was she older than her sister now?

The water had turned almost black and Reina took it as a sign she had bathed for long enough. The water was still hot, but she knew she was just sitting in filth. With heavy limbs Reina pulled herself up, reaching down to release the plug. Her stomach was rolling violently and for several minutes all she could do was sit on the floor with her forehead touching the ground.

'Slave.' The voice was muffled, and Reina could barely choke out a reply. Her body was shaking, and her limbs felt as if they had turned to stone. 'Humans.' Damien’s tone was scornful as something soft was wrapped over Reina’s shoulders. Her vision began to blacken and blur as Damien tried to help her to stand, but she could barely move. 'I trust you had nothing but hot water?'

'I don’t know,' Reina groaned, barely able to fight back the waves of bile which threatened to spew forth. Her heart was hammering painfully against her ribcage and her breaths were short yet rapid. 'I – I can’t breathe.'

'Because you are a fool.' The voice was cold and unsympathetic. 'Drink this, slowly.' Water touched her lips and Reina tipped her head back to gulp it down greedily, but before she could take a second mouthful it was pulled away. 'I said slowly. It is not my job to look after you.'

'T – Then why are you?' Reina said, each word making her stomach drop further. 'Why not just kill me now and be done with it?'

'I told you, I have paid good money for you.' Gently Reina was lifted but the motion set her sickness off once more. 'I am not going to kill you, not yet at least.' Carefully she was settled on something soft yet firm. 'What is your name?'

'R – Reina,' she mumbled and slowly forced her eyes to open. The room continued to spin but gradually it slowed down until she was able to focus on the vampire before her.

'And how old are you…Reina?' He said her name slowly, his tongue slowly licking over his fangs as if tasting her.

'I – I’m not,' Reina pleaded. 'I was twelve when I was brought here but I don’t know when that was.' She knew some slaves had attempted to count the days since their arrival, but Reina had done no such thing. She could not count for one thing, but did she really want to know how much of her life had been squandered here?

'I think we can safely assume you are older now.' Reina blushed and shifted beneath the loosely draped towel. 'Let me see your mark.' His voice was gentle now, but still Reina hesitated. She was ashamed of her scar; each time she looked at it or touched it she was reminded of her broken promise. Calloused fingers stroked the scar and in the blink of an eye Damien had disappeared, the sound of a door locking shut confirming he hadn't just disappeared into thin air.

The glass of water rested on a table beside Reina and with shaking hands she reached out to pick it up. It took all of her self-control not to gulp the water greedily. When she was sure she could stand without collapsing she slowly stood up, wrapping the towel securely around herself. A fresh set of clothes had been left on the table: a simple linen shirt and breeches. Frowning, Reina pulled the clothes on, unsurprised to find they were ill-fitting but at least gave her more cover than the towel had offered.

Standing in the middle of the room, Reina observed her surroundings. She was in a good-sized room with a half-empty bookcase and a circular table covered in scraps of paper and charcoal. There was no other furniture in the room and three doors, all of which were closed. She knew one was the door leading outside and one to the room she had emerged from. She eyed the third door apprehensively. Curiosity burned at her; common sense told her it would be the vampire’s bedroom. I'm going to die soon anyway. Reina shrugged to herself, opening it and stepping into a small bedroom. The lighting was poor, and she realised there was no window in the room; the only light came from the lamps in the main room. She could just make out a bed which took up a large portion of the room and an antique wardrobe which looked foreboding in the dark.

'I thought slaves were meant to be obedient.' Reina jumped at the sound of the voice behind her, blushing furiously she turned to stare at Damien. A guilty expression was etched on her face.

'I – I…you didn't say I couldn't look around,' she finished lamely and was surprised to see the flicker of a smile cross over the vampire's face. His eyes searched Reina's face and turned back to seriousness. He held out a small piece of crumpled and torn paper. She stared down at it but couldn't understand what was written; all she recognised was the familiar ᛚᛟ. 'What is this?'

'You don't recognise it?'

'I can't read.' Reina shrugged, feeling a flush of embarrassment creep along her cheeks. 'I grew up in a small village; there was no need for me to read – for any of us to read for that matter.'

'Do you remember the night you came here?' Reina nodded and resisted pulling a face. It was not a night she was ever likely to forget. 'When a slave arrives, their details are recorded before they are branded.' Damien gestured to her left wrist. 'This says you arrived in the summer of nineteen-ten. That was seven years ago.' Reina frowned; she could tell there was something terribly significant about the number.

'H – How old am I?' Reina asked weakly, feeling the room beginning to spin dangerously once more.

‘Nineteen.' Nineteen? She couldn't count but Reina knew she was older than she had first thought. Cassandra had been sixteen; a marriageable age. I’ll never marry, she thought with a pang. Pushing thoughts of the life she would never have from her mind, Reina focused on the paper once more. 'I don’t understand. How did you find this? I – I thought it didn’t exist?'

'I have never heard of a slave surviving for this long, not one that had not been personally owned. And even then, it is rare. Julianna would not have thought to look this far back; she would have searched three years at the most – if she had even searched that far.'

'Perhaps it isn’t me.' Reina shrugged, handing the scrap back.

'This is your name, and this is your mark. There is no mistake, Reina, I double checked to be sure. The last time a slave bore your mark was over eighty years ago. Besides, at least now I know I did not overpay for you. The longer a slave survives the more valuable some find them; some of the others like to break the spirits of slaves.' Reina recoiled slightly, almost tripping backwards. 'Don’t worry; I do not see the point in breaking those who are weaker. But it does leave me to wonder what to do with you.' Reina tried to look away as Damien gripped her chin and tilted her face from to side to side. 'Once you fatten up a bit you will be quite pretty, but I can imagine the thought of warming my bed would be less than favourable…'

'No!' Reina cried as Lance’s voice seemed to echo around the room. 'Please—'

'Calm down.' Damien shushed her. 'I do not take someone who is unwilling to my bed.'

'Just kill me. You will have to do so eventually, right?'

'True. But I would like to get my money’s worth from you first.' Reina flinched at the crassness and felt tears blur her eyes. 'It has been a long night and I am tired. There are blankets in the chest, sleep where you like but do not leave my rooms.' Damien gestured to the chest at the foot of his bed that she had missed. Gathering as many blankets as she could carry – she had never felt anything so thick and warm – she retreated to the main room and created a makeshift bed in the corner furthest from his bedroom door. Would he really leave her in peace?