part0016

Freedom was a strange experience for Reina. Her entire adult life had been spent in slavery. She had forgotten what it was like to not look over her shoulder in fear every moment.

She and Damien spent their days sleeping in the coach while Marco drove. At night they switched over, taking breaks only to find nourishment. Although his disapproval never wavered, Damien at least did not stop Reina from hunting animals. For the first week of he tried to convince her to accompany him but soon decided to let the matter rest.

They stayed clear of the main roads, the newly built surfaces playing havoc on Reina’s newly heightened senses. The chemical fumes of petrol made her feel sick and dizzy; she was sure it was made worse by the fact it was a scent she had never encountered as a human. Damien and Marco had explained to her about cars, but they were yet to pass one.

Conversation with Damien remained stilted at best. He would tell her of the differences to expect as a vampire, but whenever he broached the subject of them becoming closer she would abruptly cut him off. Some nights she would travel in the coach with Marco, talking until he eventually fell asleep. She was surprised at how much she would miss him once they parted ways. It hurt to think she would never see him again. She had no plans to return to this part of the world, and yet if she did she knew he would have long since passed away. Briefly, she wondered if that was why the vampires at Tenebrae were so cruel, so as not to grow attached and mourn the deaths of humans. But she dismissed it instantly. Those vampires did not even think of the slaves as humans. Just meat.

The snow had stopped falling and was now an unpleasant slush that the horses struggled to move through. Several times she and Damien had to stop each night to free the coach from a deep puddle that had been hidden.

As the coach trundled onto a disused path, Reina sat up at a familiar smell. It was faint, so faint she was almost sure she imagined it. But as they travelled on she became convinced that it was not her imagination.

'Ssh.' She waved her hands to silence Damien, closing her eyes and concentrating. There was definitely something familiar in the air. 'My home is nearby, the village I grew up in. I can feel it.' She couldn’t explain this last part, but she was sure there was a familiar presence in the air. It was soothing and she half-expected to hear her mother calling her and Cassandra in from playing. She turned to look at Damien and Marco, a pleading expression on her face. 'Please, I need to see it. I need to know if anyone survived.'

'It might not be safe,' Marco said as if he spoke to a child. 'Anyone from Tenebrae could be there waiting for you.' Reina looked to Damien for confirmation. Would Master Vrykólakas know where she was from?

'It’s unlikely,' Damien admitted grudgingly. 'We don’t record where slaves came from. The only one who would know Reina was from here would be the vampire who brought her to Tenebrae, but their signature was illegible. I don’t even know who it is.' If vampires could have paled, Reina was sure Damien would have lost several shades of what little colour he had. 'I didn’t bring your papers…'

'So?' Reina asked scornfully. 'You kept telling me that once I was a vampire I would be free. Why would you need to bring papers?' She could not help the accusatory tone creeping into her voice. It was hard to think of herself as anything other than a slave while she still bore the mark and she fought back the impulse to trace the scar.

'You are free; I wanted to give them to you. I thought perhaps you would want to destroy them yourself, to gain some closure.' Despite herself, Reina was touched by the thought. 'But by now Master Vrykólakas will have them. He has a key to every room, he would have searched our rooms as soon as we left to see if he could find a clue as to where we would go. He will see that I didn’t purchase you at an auction, that your sale was technically illegal.'

The thought of what Master Vrykólakas would do with that information was not a pleasant one but Reina shrugged it away as if it were of no importance. In the back of her mind though she could not help remembering how he claimed to own all slaves. Would he see Reina as his rightful property even more now?

'I am never going back to Tenebrae so why should it matter? Even if Master Vrykólakas himself tried to bring me back I would not go.' As if that settled the matter, Reina turned her back on the two men and walked in the direction she was sure home lay. Sprinting through the now familiar forest she eventually came out into an empty field. It was difficult to tell whether the field still yielded a harvest as it was buried beneath slush. In the distance, she could see the silhouette of buildings and she headed towards them.

'No…' As she stood on the outskirts of the small village she knew instantly that no one had survived that terrible night. Her feet took over, leading her through the village. Many of the buildings were destroyed, burnt-out shells with beams exposed like skeletons. She finally stopped outside of a small cottage that was relatively intact. Half of the ceiling was missing, and the front door had been ripped from its hinges but compared to many of the buildings around it this one seemed almost habitable.

'Reina, wait!' Marco and Damien each grabbed her arms, tugging her away from the empty doorframe. Behind her, she heard one of the horses snort impatiently and paw at the ground, clearly eager to leave the village.

'What good will going inside do?' Damien asked. 'Even if your family survived that night, this village has clearly been abandoned. Why risk seeing something that you will only regret?' Ignoring them, Reina tugged herself free, effortlessly detaching herself from Marco but struggling to rid herself of Damien’s grasp. They didn’t understand. Of course she would regret seeing whatever lay inside the cottage. But she had to know for sure. She could not spend the rest of her life, however long that would be, wandering around thinking about her family.

The interior of the cottage was barely recognisable. The furniture had been upturned and torn apart. The ceiling of the main room had caved in, exposing almost the entire room to the elements and rotting the furniture through. A stream of moonlight highlighted a pile of rubble and Reina looked at the pile curiously, her eyes drawn to something white lying beneath.

'Mama, no!' A skeletal hand picked clean of flesh and bleached white by years of exposure to the sun lay buried under rotten straw and wooden beams. 'Mama! Mama!' Reina kept screaming like a lost child before throwing herself beside the rubble and ripping it apart. She threw chunks of wood to the side along with broken pieces of stone and other debris. Damien and Marco helped her, stopping only when a skeleton in a patched dress was revealed. Reina could not deny it was her mother, not when she recognised the dress. Much of the fabric had worn away and Reina was ashamed to think of her mother lying in the cottage exposed while she rotted away.

‘No mortal will tell of our tragedy.’

The weight of Cassandra’s words hit Reina and she buried her face into her arms as she sobbed uncontrollably. She was the sole survivor of that night. But she was no longer mortal. Once again, she asked herself, had Cassandra seen what she would become?

'Reina…the sun will be up soon. We need to return to the coach.'

'No!' Reina wept and for the first time since she had become a vampire, she realised she did not notice the pins and needles breaking out across her skin. 'I won’t leave her – not again!' She spotted a wooden rosary lying in her mother’s left hand as if she had been clutching it at the time of her death. Ignoring Damien’s hiss of warning, she gently freed the rosary, running the beads through her fingers until the crucifix came to rest on her hand.

'Not now,' she heard Marco hiss as Damien made a small noise of incredulity. Reina stared at the crucifix, caught in a trance. She had known her mother was dead, she had seen the woman attack her from the doorway. But had she secretly hoped to return home and find her mother at the stove? Her father whittling at the table? Briefly, she lifted her eyes to search the room. There was only one body, but she had never seen her father that evening. It was likely he had perished in the fields, but was there a chance he had survived? Her mother had admitted she didn’t know what had happened to him, that they had become separated.

He’s dead. Why taunt yourself? a voice in the back of Reina’s mind scolded and she tried to listen to it. She tried to squash the small ray of hope, but it was all she had to cling to. She couldn’t even search for her father in the field; even if she could find bones beneath the sludge there was no way she would know who they belonged to.

'Reina, you cannot stay in here, there’s no roof – you’ll be completely exposed.' Marco tried to reason with her. 'The coach is just outside, you won’t be far.'

Ignoring him, Reina pushed herself to her feet and clumsily moved towards the smaller room. She held the rosary loosely in her hands as if she wasn’t quite sure what to do with it.

The room she had shared with Cassandra was untouched. The shutter was still closed, and the roof seemed relatively stable. Closing the door, Reina leant against it; she could hear Damien and Marco discussing what they should do but she barely registered their words. Let them leave if they wanted, she would stay here. She never should have left that night, she should have stayed with her mother and died with her. Perhaps the past seven years had been her punishment for fleeing, for leaving her mother to die alone and brutally.

As if in a dream Reina moved towards the straw-filled mattress. It was rotting and damp, but she didn’t care. Picking up a small object, she stared down at her teddy bear, surprised to find something so innocent amongst the wreckage. Burying her face into the mouldy fur, Reina closed her eyes, but she knew sleep would not come to her.

Tossing and turning throughout the day, Reina did not sleep. The pain of the sun was excruciating, and she tossed and turned on the floor desperate for relief against the pain. The urge to open the shutters, to allow the sun to obliterate her, was strong but she was too cowardly to seriously consider it.

The sound of movement in the main room pricked her ears and Reina sat upright, listening to the sounds of shuffling next door. Had Cassandra been wrong? Had someone else survived that night? Carelessly she opened the door, letting out a tortured scream as sunlight hit her hands.

'What are you doing?' an angry voice shouted, and Reina was knocked backwards into the dark room. Marco stood in front of the door, his arms held out as if to block her path. He was paler than her and Damien as he looked her up and down. Reina looked down to find her hands covered in large painful blisters, her skin smouldering from the contact with the sun. Already though the pain was subsiding, and the blisters were slowly beginning to heal. 'I told Damien I would keep you safe!'

'I heard a noise,' Reina mumbled, turning her attention away from the blisters, the largest of which was now the size of her little fingernail. Marco stepped forwards, rolling up the sleeve of his shirt. 'Thank you, but you know I won’t.'

'Have you slept at all?'

Reina shook her head and sat back down on the mattress, motioning for Marco to sit with her. Silence fell between the two, but unlike the uncomfortable silences she now shared with Damien this one felt more natural. Peaceful.

'I want to bury Mama before we leave,' she eventually said, not able to look at Marco. The thought of just leaving her mother lying there on the floor was unbearable.

'We thought you might. We dug a grave and I’ve moved your mother. Once the sun has set we can give her a burial, you can say goodbye.' Tentatively Marco reached out and took Reina’s hand. She was surprised to find it completely healed already. Marco squeezed her hand and gave her a weak smile. Smiling her thanks, Reina reached down with her free hand and picked up the rosary, aware in the back of her mind that it was something she had assumed she couldn’t. 'You’re the first vampire I’ve met who can pick up a holy relic.' Marco voiced her thoughts.

'I feel less surprised by this.' She shrugged. 'Violet eyes and I won’t drink blood…am I even a vampire?' she joked, but the answer came when her fangs popped from her sheaths. Embarrassed Reina turned her head.

The silence fell between them once more and Reina was grateful when Marco let it remain. Closing her eyes, she didn’t even feel herself settle back on the straw mattress where she finally fell asleep.

Damien was standing over her when Reina woke up. Marco was no longer beside her, but he must have fetched a blanket from the coach at some point as one had been draped over her. Silently Damien handed her a fresh set of clothing, kissing her cheek before leaving her alone. Reina was sure she caught something flicker in his pale eyes, but she wasn’t sure what. Regret?

Not wishing to dwell on the thought, Reina dressed quickly. She was thankful Damien had given her black clothing; it was a funeral she supposed they were about to do. Looking around the room, she stared at her teddy bear lying on the pillow, her mother’s rosary wrapped around it. Leaning down she picked the bear up, hugging it close. It was silly, but she couldn’t leave it behind, and she certainly couldn’t leave her mother’s rosary. Taking one final look around the small cottage, she finally left, tears stinging her eyes.

Damien and Marco had dug a grave in the churchyard. Reina appreciated the effort; even though the snow was melting into slush, the ground was still frozen solid. Even for Damien it could not have been an easy feat. Silently they placed the bones in the grave and Reina fought back several sobs as she pieced her mother back together. This was what the vampires of Tenebrae had reduced her mother to. A gruesome jigsaw puzzle. When the bones were arranged Reina stepped back as Damien and Marco filled the grave. Marco squeezed her shoulder as he left to return to the coach.

'Take your time.' Damien tilted Reina’s head up and gently wiped her tears with his thumb. 'Reina…I am truly sorry for all you have suffered. But I will never apologise for Creating you.' He leant down and kissed her softly, the first kiss they had shared since her Creation. Warmth flooded through Reina and she grasped Damien’s hands, suddenly afraid he would let go. She had lost everything from her mortal life. Burying her face into Damien’s coat, she let the tears she had been holding back for seven years flow freely; every ounce of grief she had kept back suddenly bursting forth. She was grateful that Damien stayed silent, that he just held her tightly, his grip tightening with each sob as if he hoped to squeeze the grief from her. Only when she was sure her face was dry did she pull back.

'Thank you,' she said thickly. 'Damien…I can’t feed on humans. Even those who are willing. What would Mama think? And Cassandra?'

'Reina, you can’t deny your nature. I will not force this on you, but I think you are making a mistake. You will have to drink human blood one day, and the longer you deny your nature the more catastrophic the consequences.' Kissing her softly once more he turned towards the coach, leaving Reina alone with her mother.

Kneeling beside the mound of dirt, Reina thrust her hands into the frozen earth and gripped it tightly.

What would her mother think of her youngest daughter? She had thrown Cassandra out that night, leaving her alone and defenceless all because of her visions. Over something, she could not help. The thought of what her mother would say to her was unbearable and she quickly stood back up, ashamed at the distance she wanted to put between herself, her mother and her mortal life. Bending down, she scooped up the teddy bear and rosary, her eyes fixed on the unmarked grave.