Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE

         They had broken into our houses in the middle of the night, descending upon us like the snow falling onto the pavement outside.  Most of the adults had been killed, deemed useless by the vampires.  They wanted servants for their estates, workers for the land, and men who would be trained as warriors to defend the territory.  It all seemed so unreal, like I was in the middle of some terrible dream.  How could the world have come to this?
         We were being prepared for a slave auction.  The trader had us in a long line of continuously connecting shackles.  I knew nothing about him but of course I had a strong hatred towards him.  As he would walk by us in his suit and top hat, he would occasionally take his cane and beat someone with it.  He seemed to think very highly of himself, though in appearance he was fat and greasy; I envisioned him as the sadistic circus owner, exploiting the talent. The trader was leading us through the neighborhood and collecting more victims as we passed houses.  Young men, teenage girls, little children, all fell victim to this ludicrousness.  We made our way through the neighborhood for another ten minutes until we had reached the entrance of the subdivision.  The trader then shouted for us to sit down on the curb.  It was freezing cold outside and the snow was falling; at that moment there was no beauty to be found in the wintry scene.  My body felt like it had been submerged in ice water; I was only donning a tank top and underwear.
         "What are you going to do with us?" a young man in the chain gang shouted at the greasy merchant.
         "I'm going to sell ye for a profit.  Yer masters'll do what they like with ye.  It's them ye ought to be concerned ‘bout, not me," he replied in a slimy voice that seemed to match his appearance.
         We continued to sit there in the frigid December air for an hour.  While doing so, I took the time to reflect on the previous events of the night.  Before all this had happened, I had fallen asleep.  My dream had just begun when I woke to a strange man whispering into my ear.
         "It's not time to sleep yet, my sweet."
         My eyes widened in confusion.  At that moment, the stranger and another male each grabbed one of my arms with forceful strength and tore me out of bed.  I did not put up a fight, I was still confused as to what was happening.  My bare legs were dragging on the carpet as they carried me down the stairs and through the living room.  All of my confusion turned to absolute horror when I saw my parents in the living room.  My father lay sprawled on the floor in his robe with a broken neck and my mother in her nightgown, collapsed in the armchair with a bullet in her chest.
         "No...  No...  What's happening?  What's happening?  Who are you people?" I questioned.  Although in the back of my mind I was aware that I had spoken, I did not hear my own voice.  There was a droning buzz in my ear; any response they may have given me went unregistered.
         We exited through the front door and the cold air attacked my nearly bare body like sharp needles.  I was being pulled towards my chained neighbors.  The two men threw me to the ground and shackled me with the others.  Before leaving to go into the next house, they pointed their guns and instructed me to cooperate by following along with the others...  And here I was.
         The weight of my parents' deaths descended onto me with the weight of a giant boulder.  The fact that I would never see my parents again or tell them goodbye was all too real.  Suddenly, I felt utterly and completely alone.  There would be no one to protect me in this land of confusion.  I would have to fend for myself.  My lips trembled and bitter tears ran down my cheeks as I reminisced of the times my parents and I had spent together.  Who would I go to now?  Owen!
         Why had it not occurred to me before to look for him?  I leaned back and forward trying to find him.  If they had started at the farthest end of the neighborhood, he would be closer to the front of the line.  I spotted a head of dark coiled hair and tan skin.  Though I could not see his face, for it was resting in his hands, I knew it had to be him.
         "Owen!" I shouted.  "Owen!"
         Owen lifted his head and searched down the line for me.
         "Layna!  Layna, it's you!  Are you alright?"  He began trying to stand but was caned in the knees by the trader.  Owen remained seated but continued shouting out to me.
         "Don't worry, Layna, I'll figure something out.  They won't keep us in these chains for long."
         "Owen, what's happening to us?  Where are we going?"
         Just then I felt a sharp blow to the back of my head.  I instantly cringed and moved my hand to where the trader's cane had fallen.
         "All of ye, keep yer traps shut!  There'll be no more talking.  No one speaks, ‘less yer spoken to," he growled as Owen and I looked longingly at one another.  "Look, here come the cars now.  It was ‘bout time!"
         A line of cars proceeded down the snow-covered street and parked along the opposite curb.  The people who stepped out of the vehicles were donning an array of various styles.  Women wearing the fashions of the early 1900s, men dressed in modern wealthy suits; some of them were even wearing what appeared to be elaborate Renaissance costumes.  They all filed beside the end of the chain gang  and began walking back and forward, inspecting each of us like fine artifacts.  Eventually they would decide to make a purchase and the victim's shackles would be detached from those of the rest of the line.  Many of those who were taken were forced to endure the ride back in the trunk of the car.
         At this point, my only means of escape was cooperation.  As soon as they removed my shackles from the rest of the line, I would run for it.  On the other hand, many of their men were armed with guns, and my own shackles would slow me down.  I might not be able to run for it until I arrived at the destination of whoever would purchase me.  But where would I run to?  How much land had these monsters covered?  How would I find Owen?
         "What is your name, girl?" a melodic voice questioned, breaking my train of thought.
         I sat there in silence as I observed who had spoken to me.  She was tall and almost exotic in appearance.  Fiery red locks lay beneath a Victorian hat; her dress was a pale green, trimmed with white lace.  She looked as if she ought to be walking through an English garden with a parasol in hand on a bright summer day, rather than underneath a street light in a contemporary suburban neighborhood on a cold winter's night.  Her pale blue eyes were frightening and penetrating.
         "Answer the lady when she's speakin' to ye!" the trader roared, grabbing me by the arm and forcing me to my feet.
         "There's no need to be a brute, sir; these humans are simply in shock.  I see you've allowed them no time to put on proper attire.  We none of us want a servant who has just caught a cold," she said in an intimidating tone.  As she looked down at him he simply stared up at her, dumbfounded.  It must have been a new experience for him, having someone put him in his place.
         She turned to me once more.
         "Again, child, what is your name?"
         "Layna," I replied under my breath.
         "Indeed?  Well, ‘tis a lovely name.  Are you capable of performing house work?  I need a servant to cook and clean, and also to go to market.  If you have no skills, you are of no use to me."
         "I...  I can do those... things, I suppose."
         "Very well.  I will take this one," she spoke once more to the trader.  "I will give you fifty for her, it should be more than enough."
         The woman reached into a hidden pocket in her dress, pulled out a wad of bills, and handed them to the trader.  I was unshackled and instructed to follow her back to the car.
         "Where are we going?" I asked her, a lump forming in my throat.
         "Home.  I recently began staying in one of the historic buildings in the city.  It's quite nice.  You should adjust fairly well, I should think," she said optimistically, not seeming to realize that I didn't even know what I would be adjusting to.
         "Can I please say goodbye first?" I implored as I gazed over at Owen, prepared to get down on my hands and knees if I had to beg.
         After a moment of silence, she replied, "Don't be long; I'm eager to return home."
         I turned and ran to where Owen was still shackled, breaking between two potential buyers.  I put a hand on each of his arms, words beginning to spew from my mouth.
         "Find me, Owen!  Promise you'll come and find me!  This woman, she says she lives in a historic building in the city, probably the old Halifax Manor.  I'll have no way of knowing where you are!  Oh, Owen!"
         I began crying hysterically, throwing my arms around his neck.
         "I'll try my best, Layna.  No...  I will.  I don't know when I'll get a chance, but I promise, I'll come for you when I can.  We just need to be strong until we find each other.  Go now, but before you do, just give me a kiss."
         Without hesitation, I held his face in my hands and gave him a hard kiss on the lips.  I shut my eyes as tightly as possible, wanting to remember this kiss and take it with me.  I pulled back as the tears began again.  As I walked back towards the strange woman without saying the word goodbye, I still had my head toward Owen.  Every part of my body was screaming at me, telling me this couldn't be real, and to not leave.  Would this be the last time I every lay my eyes on him?  Would he keep his promise of an uncontrollable outcome?
         "Don't worry, child, I won't force you to lay in the trunk; you may sit in the back seat beside me.  As soon as we get home, I will show you to your room and find some decent clothes for you to wear.  I'll tell my chauffeur to turn on the heat, you must be freezing," the strange woman said politely, almost as if trying to console my frantic emotions.
         I ducked my head and sat on the leather seat of her sleek Jaguar S-Type.  Obviously she had to be wealthy.  I wondered if she knew someone in a position of power, or perhaps she was; no one was wealthy these past few years unless they were prominent in society.  I found myself wondering her name and who she was, when, as if having heard my thoughts, she said, "By the way, you may address me as Lady Eudora."