Chapter 1
Asatira
1852
Her mother told her that her name meant myth, legend. It was a name from the old land, where they were all free, a name from a language long forgotten. Her mother was a beautiful women, strong and tall, like an oak tree. She never cried, no matter how many times the whip cracked on her back, and she always tried to protect Asatira. But she couldn't protect her forever. She was sold, and sold again, and again, until her mother's memory was just a faint image, a warm smile, the smell of spice, a hug. The last place she was sold to were the Masons. It was the best place she ever had. She worked as a maid – cleaning, helping the Mistress getting dressed, serving the food. It was so much better than work on the field. She didn't really had friends, most of the other slaves resented her for getting off easy with her job. But she had Edward. Edward, the son of her Master. He was so different from the other white men and women. He never ordered, he asked. He treated the slaves like human beings, even equals. This angered his parents to no end, but he didn't care about their constant scolding. She didn't noticed for a long time that he had a crush on her. Asatira never had a lover before: she was either too exhausted or scared to initiate anything with slave boys she found handsome, and she did everything to avoid getting attention from the masters and the foremens, who didn't asked just took what they wanted. Edward first made short conversations with her, when no one was around. She didn't understand why he was talking to her, and was all flustered, barely saying a few words. But as the time went on she got used to it, and the talks got longer and longer. They spoke about many things: her past, his studies, their dreams and plans, ideas and jokes. It was so easy to open up to him, she never felt like this before. Then one day he catched her looking at the pictures in one of his books, when she was supposed to dust them.
-I'm so sorry, Master Edward. Please, I was just looking at it, I swear it won't happen again.
-Hey, calm down. I'm not angry. And it's just Edward, remember?
-Yes. I'm sorry, Edward.
He gently took the book from her hands and admired the picture.
-Eros and Psyche – he pointed at the angelic looking man and the blond beauty beside him – He was the god of love, and she was a mortal.
-They look at each other like they were madly in love.
-They were. Asatira, do you want to read this story?
She blushed.
-I can't read.
-I can teach you, if you want it.
-That wouldn't be proper.
-Who cares? They won't find out.
She hesitated. She should have said no. Slaves weren't allowed to read, or write, it was dangerous, and it could get her into a lot of trouble. But she desperatly wanted to know the stories behind the beautiful pictures, she often looked at in secret.
-You would really do it? Teach me to read?
-Of course.
That's how their Sunday evening lessons started. Every Sunday, when Edward's parents went to church she went to his room. He had a big collection of books, and he carefully selected a new one every week. He was a good teacher, patient and kind. When he read the stories, they became alive on his lips. When Asatire read, it was slow, and she often mispronounced the words, but with time she got better. One day Edward brought out a new book.
-This is one of my favorites.
-What is it about?
-Poems about love, from a man who lived centuries ago. He mostly wrote plays, tragedies that make you cry and hilarious comedies. And he has this collection of poems, all about love. He writes about it like no one else does.
-Read me your favorite.
The book opened easily at the exact page, like it was opened there many times before, and he started reading, his voice soft and gentle.
-So are you to my thoughts as food to life,
Or as sweet-season'd showers are to the ground;
And for the peace of you I hold such strife
As 'twixt a miser and his wealth is found.
Now proud as an enjoyer, and anon
Doubting the filching age will steal his treasure;
He put the book down, and continued, leaning closer, whispering.
-Now counting best to be with you alone,
Then better'd that the world may see my pleasure
He became quiet. She could feel his breath on her face, they were so close. Then he leaned in and kissed her. It was… like nothing she felt before. Without even thinking she kissed back. Then it dawned on Tira what she was doing – who she was doing it with. She immediately broke the kiss, and ran out of the room. She only stopped when she got to her cot, where she flopped down on her bed. What was she thinking? Edward is her Master's son, an educated white man, with a bright future. And who was she? Just a maid, even less, a slave. Nothing could ever happen between them, at least nothing she wanted. Because she just realised: she wanted this and so much more. That during those hours of reading, talking and studying, she fell for him, and that made this so much more painful. They avoided each other for weeks, pretending that nothing happened. Than after days of maddening silence Edward couldn't bear it anymore and seeke her out in the kitchen.
-Tira, I'm so sorry. I won't do it again if you don't want it, I swear. I just… I thought…
-What were you thinking?
-I thought that you felt that way, too.
She wanted to lie, tor run away again, but she looked into those green eyes, and she couldn't do it.
-I do feel that way – she admitted – But that doesn't matter.
-Of course it matters. That's the only thing that matters.
-No. Don't you understand it? I'm just a slave.
-You are so much more. You are Tira, the girl who loves reading fairy tales, and smiles when she gets a long word right. You are the girl I love.
-Please don't say something like this, not if you don't mean it.
-I love you. Please, give me a chance to prove it.
She kissed him, against her better judgement. Their reading sessions continued, just with more kissing. They seeked each others company whenever they could, stolen moments, secret meetings. And things were good for a while. Even great. She was happy. She never felt like she was a myth. But now maybe like a love story. Not that she thinked a lot about it. It was just that Edward asked her about her name's meaning.
-Asatira, Tira, my Tira – he whispered, as he kissed her neck – My little myth.
-Stop it, someone might see us.
-My parents are at the town, they won't come back for a while.
-I can't belive you are going away tomorow.
It's been almost a year since that first kiss. And now Edward's parents wanted to send him back to finish his studies and become a lawyer.
-Just one year. Than I will have a job, I can get enough money to buy you. We can move North, you can be free.
-One year is so long…
-I will visit at Christmas.
-I already miss you.
-I wanted to give this to you.
He put a book in her hand. Tira glanced at the title.
-Is this…?
-Eros and Psyche. The first book we read together.
Edward left the next day. They couldn't even say goodbye, because the Mistress sent Tira to the market in the morning. The time went slowly by. She counted the days until he returned, and reread the book a hundred times. It was a few weeks before Christmas when everything went horribly wrong. She was polishing the silver when the Mistress called out for her. She sounded angry, so Tira quickly went to her.
-What is this and how did it end up in your room?
She was holding the book in her hand. Tira panicked. How did this end up in here? It was safely hidden under her mattress. Then she noticed one of her roommates, Nelly in the corner. Nelly was always jealous of her job as a maid. She must have noticed the book and sold her out.
-Answer me! Did you steal it? Did you plan on selling it?
-No, I didn't steal it, I swear!
-Then how did it end u pin your room? Magic?
-It was a gift.
-A gift? That's the best lie you could come up with?
-I'm not lying! Edw…Master Edward gave it to me. He saw me looking at it and said I could keep it.
-You lying little snake! Markus, whip her!
The foreman grinned and grabbed Tira's arm.
-No, Mistress, please! I didn't do it! I'm not lying!
Markus dragged her out to the pole and tied her hands to it. He teared down her blouse, and the whip striked down on her back. Tira cried out loud, as the whip striked down again and again. Maybe Markus had a bad day, or he was just in an especially sadistc mood, but he just didn't stop. After what seemed like hours of pain and blood she finally passed out.
She came slowly to her senses. Everything hurt, and she was so cold. She was still tied to the pole, but it was dark. An old black man was standing across her. Tira never saw him before, she would have remembered if she did. He was so strange, obviously older with grey hair, but he somehow still seemed young at the same time, and strong. And he had red eyes, scary ruby red eyes fixated on her, never moving or blinking.
-Finally, you are awake.
-Who… who are you?
-It doesn't really matter, does it? Don't worry, I won't hurt you, although you sure smell delicious. They got you good. Don't you wanna get back at them?
-I don't understand.
-Do you want to be free?
-I…
-Yes or no, girl?
-Yes. More than anything.
-Than you shall be free.
He teared the ropes like it was yarn, grabbed Tira and in inhumane speed he carried her away into a forest. He dropped her onto the grass and grabbed her hand.
-This is going to hurt.
He sinked his teeth into her wrist. Than it was pain, a whole different kind of pain than the whip, way worse. And it lasted longer, too. Days. When it finally stopped, Tira sat up. She was still in the forest, the old man sitting next to her, but everything changed. She could feel, see, hear and smell so much more. And her throat was burning.
-What happened?
-You became a vampire.
-A vampire?
They read about them with Edward. Blood drinking creatures of the night, stronger and faster than any human.
-Yes. And you are thirsty for blood. We should hunt some humans.
-I don't want to kill anyone.
-Well, you must. That's the only way to stop that burning in your throat. What do you say we start with your old owners? Revenge is almost better than blood.
She thought about it for a moment: giving all that pain and humiliation back. But they were Edward's parents. He would never forgive her.
-No, not them.
-Sure?
-I can't kill them.
-Okay. Than let's find someone else.
Tira, the vampire started running. She wasn't a slave anymore. She was a creature from the myths.