part0009

Trying her best not to fidget, Reina stood beside the window; her face was tilted as if she were looking below but she was trying her best not to focus on the scene below her. Despite being made to her measurements the dress still hung on her skeletal frame and the fabric felt heavy. She was used to wearing thin scraps of cloth sewn together, not gowns of heavy layers of velvet.

'You are too stiff,' Damien said from his chair. 'Why can’t you relax?'

Reina rolled her eyes, thankful that her back was to him. How did he expect her to answer? He didn’t like lies, but the truth would surely offend him. Wincing, Reina turned her head away, unable to look at a gathering circle of finely dressed figures.

Seeing that Damien had set the sketchbook down, Reina sat on the window seat and stared down at her stockinged feet. As masters went he was kind enough and left Reina to her own devices, which wasn’t much. She cleaned his rooms and took her meals with the other group of slaves in the kitchens.

'Would you like to learn to read?' The question was out of the blue and Reina’s head snapped up to look at Damien.

'Why would you waste your time?' she asked him.

'I would get more use out of you. You could scribe for me, read my correspondence to me. For what you cost me I should get something from you.' She had grown used to the crass way he referred to her as a possession. She had begun to sense he did it to try and provoke a reaction from her, as if he wanted her to be more than a shadow. Used to it though she might be, his words still struck a nerve. She had never asked him to purchase her; she had never wanted this life!

'You will have to kill me eventually.'

'I have no intention of killing you,' Damien said, and his tone was waspish. 'Have I ever raised my hand to you? Threatened you in any way?'

'No. But you act as if I am a burden to you; did I ask you to purchase me?' She finally voiced the thought aloud. 'You seem almost impressed that I have survived this long, but truthfully I wish I had not. I did my best to survive because I was scared, I didn’t want to die at the hands of a vampire. But this is just prolonging the inevitable. You have said it yourself – when you leave, I cannot go with you. So, no, you have never threatened me. But you know as well as I do, sooner or later you will have to kill me.'

Damien’s face twisted but soon softened. It was an unspoken agreement between them. She could not live forever, and it was unlikely her death would be of natural causes. Damien had been kind, he had never acted as a vampire in front of her. Not once had he moved to feed from her. He treated her as more a servant than a slave.

'Only the priest in the village could read. I never really thought about it but…I would like to learn if it would not be too much trouble for you.’

Damien looked at her thoughtfully, as if judging how best to respond. Finally, he shrugged, as if the matter was forgotten, and turned back to his sketch.

When Damien had finished, Reina braved leaving his rooms to make her way down to the kitchens. The gathering of slaves at the table was smaller than usual and Reina realised too late she had not changed out of the fine dress Damien had had made for her. A boy sneered at her as she sat down and ladled soup into a battered and chipped bowl.

'Your master cares for you well,' the boy said, and Reina flinched at the iciness of his tone. Her eyes rested on the marks all over his neck and wrists and she looked away guiltily.

'Leave her alone.' A young man roughly Reina’s age sat down beside her and scowled at the boy. 'You’re not owned, you don’t know what we have to do to survive. In here you don’t even have to hide, the vampires don’t care about the kitchens – why would they? Outside you must keep your head down to survive, to try your best and be invisible. But we can’t do that, how can we when we live in the same space as our masters?' Reina opened her mouth to argue, to correct the man’s misunderstanding but he shook his head with a sympathetic smile. 'You may not share his bed now but in time you will. He does not use you for feeding – you never look pale or drawn, at least not as if you were fed from. Some masters may use us for both, but those slaves do not last as long as those who are used for just one.'

'I’m not a whore.' Reina couldn’t help the biting tone of her voice and instantly regretted attacking her ally.

'Neither am I, but I want to survive.' Why? Reina wanted to ask but kept her mouth shut. What was the point in surviving? 'None of us chose this life, but we make it the best that we can.'

The rest of the meal passed by silently and Reina was grateful when she finally forced herself to clear her bowl. She wasn’t surprised to find Damien’s rooms empty when she returned, and she took the opportunity to run herself a bath. What is the point in surviving? she asked herself again as she watched the water pouring from the taps. She had to admit that as terrified as she was of Damien, life had certainly improved. But did it matter? She was only drawing out the inevitable – she would die in Tenebrae.

'Reina?' At the sound of her name she stepped from the bathroom with an apologetic look, but Damien just shrugged. She knew he hated poor hygiene and to be honest she enjoyed hot baths – it was a luxury she was sure she would never grow tired of. 'I have some books from the library, unfortunately they’re not ideal for beginners but you will just have to make do.' Reina stared at him open mouthed; she had thought the question of her reading was dismissed. What use would it be? Excitement flared in her heart; would he really teach her?

'O – Of course…thank you.' Checking the bath wasn’t in danger of overflowing, she stood beside Damien and brushed shaking fingertips across the leather-bound covers. Picking the top book up, she opened it up; the scribblings on the page made no sense but her nostrils flared at the new scent. Pressing the book to her face, she inhaled the unfamiliar smell of musty paper, a small smile crossing her lips.

'Have your bath.' Damien touched her shoulder gently, bringing her back to the present, a small smile tugging his lips. 'We can start when you get out.'

Curled up on the floor in her nest of blankets, Reina was absorbed in one of the books Damien had taught her to read. Outside the rain lashed against the window and she paused to wrap herself up tighter in the warmth of her bedding, the familiar sense of guilt washing through her as she thought of the slaves outside. Winter had fast settled upon Tenebrae, almost skipping autumn completely.

'It is a shame you were born a peasant.' Damien sat on the ground beside Reina with his long legs stretched out. Unable to hide the look of offence, Reina stared up at him. 'Had you been noble born your life would have been quite different – you have missed out on so much. Look how quickly you have mastered reading.' He gestured to the book in her hands. She had struggled with the handwritten books, but the printed ones she had been able to learn quicker. Although she still struggled with long words. 'When I grew up not all the noble ladies could read – but some insisted on becoming just as well educated as the men. I lived to see two queens in my country; both were educated almost better than men. I have a feeling you would have been one such woman.'

'I had a family who loved me.' Reina felt defensive that he should think her parents had not done their best. 'That’s all I needed.' She had never thought too much about what she was missing out on in life. She had sometimes wished the priest who visited the village would choose her to teach reading to, but instead he had always selected a group of boys from the village. Many of them had gone on to take their vows in their church, a position she knew she would never be allowed to take.

Reina frowned and barely noticed when Damien plucked the book from her hands.

'I have nothing.' She shrugged sitting up. 'My family are dead and I’m a slave – I don’t even have my freedom.'

'What if I could offer you freedom?'

Reina rolled her eyes and bit back a retort; they both knew there was only one way in which she could gain her freedom. Damien stared at her as if he wanted to say something but thought better of it. Catching her by surprise, he instead leant over and pressed his lips to hers. They were surprisingly warm, and Reina blushed as her breath hitched in her throat. In the three months since the auction he had never shown any interest in her that indicated he wished for her to warm his bed. Embarrassed, and slightly ashamed of herself, Reina felt her body relax under his grip and she was soon returning the kiss.

'I – I’m sorry,' she stammered, pulling away quickly. She wasn’t sure why she was apologising but she felt the sudden need to break the moment, to stop anything that they might both regret. Leaning forwards, Damien kissed her cheek lightly before smoothly rising to his feet.

The winter was proving to be one of the harshest Reina had seen during her time at Tenebrae and she was suddenly more thankful than ever for Damien. Neither of them had mentioned the brief kiss they’d shared although Reina could see Damien thought about it, perhaps just as much as she did. She tried not to think of it as she took a seat at the large trestle table in the kitchens and tucked into her own breakfast.

'I heard that they are sending out for more slaves, they’re dropping like flies out there.' A heavy silence fell on the small group at the announcement and Reina’s mind was tugged back to the night her own village had been raided. Had Damien been there? Had he ever kidnapped people and brought them back to Tenebrae? Guiltily she tried to push the thought aside. She was starting to like him, to see him as more than a master. He is not your friend, she told herself harshly. A sharp kick from under the table snapped Reina from her thoughts and she stared at the girl opposite, who nodded her head at the doorway.

Slaves who had been working suddenly stopped what they were doing and even those eating had set their cutlery down to kneel on the floor. Reina couldn’t blame them; Damien did cast an imposing figure as he filled the doorway. Blushing, she stood up and followed him from the kitchens, wishing that he had not come to collect her but terrified of the reason why. He never sought her out; even when he wanted her to run an errand he would wait until she returned to his rooms.

'I apologise for interrupting your meal.' Damien seemed almost nervous, which did little to ease Reina’s own nerves. 'A companion has commissioned a portrait, of you. If I get it to him sooner rather than later, he will give me a bonus.' Reina shrugged, not sure why this should matter; she had never objected to him drawing her before and hardly doubted he would have listened if she had.

Standing in the middle of the main room, Reina waited for Damien to place her where he thought best, her sense of foreboding rising when he stood beside the door to his bedroom. He had drawn her countless times, sometimes when she wasn't even aware, but it had always been in the main room. Hopefully, Reina looked over at the window and recoiled as Damien reached out.

'It's no different from the other times.' His voice was low, and he reached out to unlace her dress.

'No!' Reina pulled away sharply. 'That is certainly different!' she protested, trying to wriggle free from his grip. Damien held her firmly against him, her back pressed against his front as he wrestled her from her dress, ripping her chemise in the process. Reina wasn’t sure if that had been accidental or not, but she didn’t care, and she fought against him to reclaim the dress.

'Reina, enough!' Damien raised his hand as if to strike her and Reina quickly dropped to the floor. Instinctively she curled into a ball, her arms covering her head and her knees scrunched up to her belly. Her body tensed painfully as she waited for the blow, but nothing came. 'Reina…' She flinched as a hand cupped the shoulder lying against the floor and gently pushed her upright. 'I – I’m sorry. This portrait though will bring in a handsome sum, I have plans for it – for you. I should have asked you but there wasn’t time.'

'Why should you ask, Master?' Reina’s voice had emptied, and she felt herself growing cold as she stared at Damien. 'I’m just a slave, what I want does not matter.' Damien’s mouth seemed to draw into a tight line and he seemed to think better of what he wanted to say. Reina put up no more resistance as Damien positioned her. Neither of them spoke and Reina’s cheeks burned with humiliation. She desperately wanted to close her eyes and take herself away from the moment. But she knew Damien would only scold her. She focused her eyes on the low ceiling of the dimly lit room, hoping that he would finish quickly and allow her to retreat.

Once he had finished, Damien held out the sketch for her to see but Reina could barely focus on it. Clutching the ragged edges of her ripped chemise, she silently walked into the bathroom, bolting the door shut and running a bath. She poured only the hot water in; she needed the scalding sensation to bring her back to reality. To sear away what had just happened.

It is just a picture, you are being foolish, she tried to tell herself but couldn’t listen to the voice. Yes, Damien had drawn her almost daily but never like that. Nor had he ever moved to raise his hands to her. He’d always been understanding. I’m a fool to trust him. To think he is different, she berated herself, thinking back to the tender kiss they had shared. How could she have been so foolish as to trust him? The water was scalding but she ignored the pain; it was almost as if the heat burnt away her humiliation.

'Reina, please…I’m sorry but do not harm yourself. Your heart rate…'

Reina covered her ears with her hands. He must care about me a little, she tried to reason as her hands twitched towards the taps; the water had become too hot to bear. He is teaching me to read and he has never tried to move me into his bed.

Stop it! she silently screamed at the sympathetic voice. He is a vampire – for whatever reasons he’s been nice they’re surely just to benefit him. The heat of the bath was making her drowsy and she closed her eyes, telling herself it would just be for a minute.

'Foolish woman!' Strong hands hauled Reina from the scalding water and she sucked in a lungful of air, suddenly aware that she was gasping for breath. None too gently, Damien hit Reina on the back, making sure she had emptied her lungs of any water before bundling her up in a fluffy towel. 'What were you thinking? Were you trying to kill yourself?'

'No!' Her cry of protest came out as a slur and she felt herself becoming more flushed from embarrassment as Damien settled her in her nest of blankets. 'I just…' she trailed off as her head rested against a pillow and she nestled deeper into her bedding. Steam still rose from her skin and she stared at her scorched hands in fascination.

'Reina, I have drawn you hundreds of times; all this because I needed you to pose differently?' Weakly she shook her head, but the movement made her feel sick. He didn’t understand, but why should he?

'I thought you weren’t like them. You taught me to read…I can almost forget what I am when I’m in your rooms.' Almost, she repeated to herself. She would never forget what she was. Not when she would die in Tenebrae. What would it be like to know freedom one more time? To have one more chance? Neither of them spoke and Reina closed her eyes, feeling the relieving pull of sleep.

'What if I could free you?'

'You’ve said it yourself: I could never leave here, even with you.' Reina didn’t open her eyes as she answered him. 'How can you free me if I can’t leave? What sort of freedom is that?'

'It’s true, you couldn’t leave here – if you were mortal.' No mortal will tell of our tragedy; Reina’s eyes snapped open suddenly wide awake as Cassandra’s words came to the front of her memory. She moved to sit up, but sickness washed over her, forcing her back down. Whether it was from the heat of the bath or Damien’s words she wasn’t sure.

'Perhaps I am not asking…this would be my final act as your master.' Reina felt the blood drain from her face as she stared helplessly at him. He was right, he didn’t need to ask her – how could she hope to even try and stop him? 'Reina, do you not understand what I am offering you? I am not doing this out of cruelty – quite the opposite! Every cruelty that has befallen you, the years that have been stolen, I can give those back to you tenfold. I will make you immortal—'

'You would make me a monster,' Reina responded harshly.

'Do you think I am a monster?'

Until tonight, no, Reina thought but kept silent. Did she think him a monster? He had shown her kindness; tonight had been the first time he had been forceful with her. Did that make him a monster?

'You have been kind to me,' Reina murmured. 'But you are one out of how many? What about those who brought me here?' She thought of Lance and shuddered but forced herself to carry on. 'I was kidnapped, brought to a country where I didn’t speak the language – told that if I didn’t learn it I would die. Then after years of being forced into servitude I was sold like cattle at a market. Perhaps you do not see me as that, not anymore, but can you honestly say that you have never thought of us as cattle? As just a means to an end? Your convenient next meal?'

'I do not kill those that I feed from.' Damien’s words were meant to be reassuring but Reina frowned and shook her head. What was the point in lying? She knew the torment of the food huts; she was still plagued by nightmares of what took place. 'Reina, I give you my word, you will not become a monster. But I am going to do this. You will become a vampire. And soon.'