Born Of Sin (Book 1)

by Deanna Richmond

  “Yes, explain the curse. I don’t feel cursed. I have no memory of my wrongdoings. I’m all but a Cabalistis myself, so how exactly is my life cursed?”

  “At first, we didn’t understand what her words so long ago meant. We figured she just took your memory, which we viewed as more of a blessing than a curse. As far as ‘she’ representing her niece, that we could never figure out. Throughout the years, we had hoped she made a mistake, but now we are not so sure. Octavia has your ring, which links to you. This ring is one way to let us know that this is Catarina’s doing,” Brayden explained.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Octavia is the curse,” Ms. Havershem finally spoke up.

  “No.” Victor shook his head in disagreement.

  “Think about it, Nikolai. You’re on top of the world, enjoying money, power and respect by the Cabalistis, like no other vampire. But Octavia’s appearance, right at this pivotal moment, is ruining your world, your reputation.” Ms. Havershem explained with exaggerated gestures while stressing her point. “You’re obsessed with her. ‘She’ means Octavia. She probably doesn’t even know it, Victor.”

  “And why haven’t the Cabalistis tried to kill her?”

  “The Cabalistis know what happened. The reason they didn’t kill her already is because it may destroy you due to your connection, one that is deep and dark, the likes of which we’ve never encountered before now. But I’m not so inclined to believe that you will be harmed if she is killed. Through your blood, she is made. Through a curse, you truly sired her,” Miruna snarled in disgust at the word sired in this context. She turned to face Victor.

  “I don’t believe it,” he whispered to himself.

  “Really, then why does she look exactly like Catarina’s niece, Natalia, the gypsy girl you tortured over four centuries ago?” Miruna asked. Victor stared at her in disbelief. “What she is, we don’t know, but what we feel for sure is that she is an abomination.”

  Victor reached for her for what she’d called Octavia, but he abruptly stopped when a scream was heard far off in the castle.

  Octavia.

  In haste, they all rushed to the room to find the nursemaid standing away from Octavia’s bed, clutching the curtains. She appeared petrified. “What? What is it?” Ms. Havershem asked, but the frightened woman responded with a pointed finger towards Octavia’s bed, the place where Victor already sat.

  “She’s ice cold.” Victor lifted her arm and it fell back to the bed with a thump, her body giving no resistance. Octavia appeared lifeless except for the weak pulse Victor faintly heard fighting to sustain its vigor. Her hair was white as snow and her nails had grown at least two inches. The poison- filled spider veins had retracted from her body; actually, all veins had. Her skin was ashen like she’d been dead for some time. There she lay like a sleeping beauty, who slumbered on a cast iron bed in a room fit for a queen.

  “Ms. Havershem,” Victor waved her over. Following his orders, the woman stood next to the bed and pulled back the sheer burgundy chiffon curtain to observe the sleeping conundrum. “What do you make of this?” he stared up at her, not consoled by her expression. She, too, was confused.

  The outline of Octavia’s mouth appeared to be swollen so she hesitantly lifted up her top lip to reveal elongated canines, the ones vampires use to drain the lives of others.

  “What is she!” screamed the nursemaid, reminding them all that she still existed.

  “An abomination,” Miruna answered with a swift removal of the nursemaid’s heart. She was not fazed by her murderous actions as she faced Octavia’s direction with a frosty grimace. The woman’s death meant nothing to her; keeping order did. “Her taking in of your blood must have triggered this. She’s changing, but into what, we don’t yet know. You know what must be done. If this gets out, it will incite chaos. This is a sick and depraved curse that must be dealt with.”

  “Dealt with how?” Victor asked as he recalled earlier tonight that her eyes had indeed turned. It was not a fluke. He’d done this to her.

  “Kill her.” Victor looked back at Miruna. “That is the only way to get back into the Cabalistis’ good graces and prove to them your loyalties are clear. You must show that you’ve returned to your senses and this curse does not control you.” Miruna raised her head high like the royal she was born to be. “You must kill her.”

  “No!” Ms. Havershem stepped in front of the bed. “It may kill Victor. You said the Cabalistis believe it themselves, that the curse is linked to Victor.”

  “I don’t believe it to be so,” she answered. “If Catarina wanted him to suffer, then why allow him to die along with his obsession? No…” Miruna circled the bed, staring at Octavia with disdain. She stopped by one of the iron poles, gripping it as if it were the lifeless woman’s neck. “No, Catarina wants him to lose it all — his standing, his love for this atrocity — then live with the loss of everything, including the Cabalistis’ respect.”

  “Are you willing to take that chance?” Ms. Havershem screeched.

  “Do not try me. You are but a child,” she warned the woman with a steady grip on her shoulder that physically incapacitated Ms. Havershem and took her to the floor. Victor stood up, furious at Miruna’s actions, but the elder tilted her head in warning.

  “You may question my methods, but I am one of the few that have kept our kind secret. I do what needs to be done. Now you must, Nikolai.” She released her hold on Ms. Havershem and extended a dagger upon a palmed hand. Victor refused her request by not advancing. He only watched her, amazed that this was the same woman he’d respected as a mentor, whom he’d regarded as a friend. When Miruna noted his refusal, she took matters into her own hands “Fine then, I will.” Miruna marched toward the head of the bed, but Brayden sent her flying toward the armoire at the back of the room.

  “Victor, and only Victor, will make the decision regarding Octavia’s life. We have already made too many for far too long,” Brayden warned her.

  Miruna retaliated, tossing Brayden across the room, but Brayden got up in haste to stand by Victor in defense against their elder. “You dare go against me!” Miruna screamed. “I am the only reason both you and Nikolai are even alive.” She marched around both men, angry at their regard for each other. She managed to recapture her cold-hearted tone and coupled it with her stiff composure. “Yes. Brayden, don’t look so shocked. They were going to kill you as well for your soft heart; for not handling him better; for not ending him sooner, before he ruined us all. You were weak. Still are, I see.”

  “Then why save me or Nikolai? Does that not mean you were weak as well?”

  “Yes. I felt pity for the mutt. He had no memory and no clue about what had occurred. But he was the perfect clay to mold.” Miruna reflected back to a time Nikolai had been so much younger and naïve.

  “So, I was your lap dog. Your scheme for more power,” Victor said. His nails grew, slicing his palms, biding his time.

  “Take care.” Her pupils darkened. Miruna was potent enough that she could kill all three within a second. “You should be grateful after the way you wounded us. It was because of you we became exposed. Yes, there are still those who are clueless about us and some who refuse to believe in our existence out of fear. Then, there are those who witnessed your horrid display of hunger. Do you know how many we had to kill in order to cover up your tracks?”

  “I never asked you to,” Nikolai managed to keep his composure, but he wondered for how much longer. She was testing his well-trained humanity. “Why didn’t you just kill me? Why watch an innocent suffer for my wrong doings? Actions that I cannot even remember.”

  “You want to know why?”

  “Speak,” Victor growled.

  “Then hear your real truth for living.” Miruna smiled at his tenacity as if an impressed tutor. “Listen well, and maybe sense will find its way into your ill-advised mind. In Romania, we were able to hush most, but there you had not been as pernicious. Across Europe, you traveled, killing as you pleased
. We followed your wake of mass destruction. We aided in the spread of the Bubonic plague for fear that humans witnessing your actions might spread the word. But by New Orleans, we’d had enough. We’d hoped that Elijah would have finished you off as foretold, but for some reason, he was slow to his task. We knew Catarina’s wickedness had shielded that place for a long time, but spell she placed upon you dear, Nikolai, weakened her. This allowed Elijah to find her.”

  Victor was not impressed by what she’d said. Droplets fell from his sliced palms, but he paid it no mind. Though the smell of blood, stirred his beast within. His anger towards Miruna was slowly rising, but he knew her ranking well. “I still won’t kill her.”

  Miruna made a ghastly noise in rebuttal. “The Cabalistis was right. You are weak. Just rotten.” Victor continued to give her his full attention as her whole demeanor changed. Her well-endowed bosom rose and fell heavily like one unleashing a great burden. At first, she sounded concerned, but it was all an act. “Ever since that night we brought you back, they have never seen you as purebred anymore.”

  “Now it is you who needs to take care,” Victor threatened. His face slowly hardened as his throat released a raspy rumble. His eyes stayed glued to her every move and his ears to her every word.

  “No, it is you that needs to take care.” She pointed at him. “You’ve been cursed since that day, only you were too oblivious to know it. Catarina knew that vampires strive for notoriety within their faction and you being ‘fixed’ would never achieve the notoriety that you had hoped. Yes, you rose further than predicted, but we don’t truly see you as one of us,” she ridiculed.

  “Not a true vampire, you say? If I’m so altered, ‘fixed,’ then why not just kill me?” Victor demanded.

  “I wanted to kill you both, Victor. You for your tiresome vulgarity and you, Brayden, for your relentless feebleness.” She spoke with arrogance as she paced around all of them. The corners of her lips turned down at their very presence.

  “Maybe they should have,” he said threateningly, taking a step towards her, but she was far from frightened by the one she saw as not whole.

  “They had plans for you, mutt.” She nodded at Victor. “You were so broken and helpless, yet they saw potential in you. One day, we knew that we would have to unite with the unruly and who better to conquer them, but the Barbarian himself? Victor, you were the perfect combination of admirable features, one who had already mastered the art of manipulation. All we needed was you to be cultured for our plans to come to pass. Astonishingly to us, you took to it well and became far more remarkable than we’d imagined you could. You are a Von Mort, after all. You come from a long line of Romanian rulers.” She snickered to herself as her face contorted to ugliness, but it was more of a sarcastic contempt.

  “What madness do you speak, woman?” Brayden balked. “You lie.”

  “I speak the truth,” she roared at Brayden. She took a long pause before giving her attention back to Victor. “They sold you off, boy. Yes, you were right. You were nothing more than a puppet. Here you thought that you were on top of the world, but others have achieved far greater accomplishments and formed much more reputable unions. You were never going to achieve the notoriety you expected, that you thought you deserved. Dear sweet Victor, they were using your lab as a front to mass produce a blood sickness to rid us of the unruly. It wasn’t just the humans the Cabalistis wanted to control, but the Kazaks as well, with you as their King. How ironic that you helped us find a way to kill the ones you were committed to rule,” she laughed sadistically, but as quickly as her laugh had come, it stopped. “It would have worked masterfully, but then that sick perversity came along and is in the process of ruining everything.” Miruna stood over Octavia’s bed.

  “You treacherous bitch!” Victor stormed on her. They collided in the middle of the room, but she backed him up to the window.

  “No, you are. You have an obligation to your kin. Prove that you still have worth and they may possibly let you live.” She pounded the butt of the dagger against this chest slowly, methodically. “Octavia is all but dead. End her suffering with this dagger and leave her to die. That is the only gift you can give her. If she is not dead by midnight by your hand, then the Cabalistis know to storm this castle and burn it to the ground, along with you in it. They had mercy on you twice. Don’t expect it a third time.”

  Victor heard what she’d said and it twisted him inside for all that had been done to him without his knowledge. Since Octavia walked into his life, his world had drastically changed. His unrestrained ways had resurfaced. Now his life was next. He pondered all this while staring at the woman he had become obsessed with. Was Octavia a curse? Her unexplained existence in the world, the ring, their torturous connection. How could she not be? He was losing his mind, his battle against sanity, and was ready to expose his kin, all for someone he did not even know. And yet, he could not imagine a world without her in it. All of this was a heavy burden and he needed to do what was right.

  “Give me the dagger,” he ordered his mentor, the woman he’d known for centuries. She stepped back, extended her hand, and he gripped it firmly with her at his side as they walked over to the bed. He kissed Octavia’s unconscious lips as sadness filled his lifeless heart.

  He lifted the dagger in hand and without warning, drove it straight into Miruna’s heart with all his might, catching his elder off guard. She pushed him away in shock, but he came back with such quickness she didn’t have time to react. He twisted and turned the dagger even further as she tried to fight, but Brayden aided him in binding her arms. Spontaneously, Victor dug his teeth into her neck with intense brutality and drank of her ancestral blood. He welcomed the sensation of its heightened awareness.

  His body was on fire as every nerve became aroused with the nostalgic nectar of the red drug. He’d never tasted such power before. It stirred the animal within him, making his cognizance soar. His true nature of bloodthirstiness had resurfaced once again.

  He shook her violently and retreated with her body when Brayden tried to stop his feeding. Both he and Ms. Havershem watched in horror.

  His eyes glowed in warning to Brayden, as they had done before in the garden. Miruna was his kill and he would have it all. He could feel the life drain from her shell. The sweetest part of the blood was the last drops. As if he wasn’t already the epitome of perfection, his features beautified even more, so he looked as if there shined a soft light upon him. His strength and hearing sharpened and his senses excelled. He remembered this elated feeling. The thrill of the kill. The unmatched feeling of taking one’s life. But taking the life of an ancestor made it even more seductive.

  “Victor,” came a weak whisper off in the distance.

  He withdrew from his trance. Miruna was released from his tight grip, sliding down his body and onto the floor, when he heard the sweetest melody of Octavia calling his name. He pulled out a handkerchief to wipe his face clean. He tried to shake the surge of energy, but it was proving difficult.

  “What… what’s wrong? Why am I so cold?” He heard Ms. Havershem tend to her needs as he gathered himself before approaching her. He was not yet ready to reveal his monstrous side.

  “Victor?” Brayden shook his friend. “Are you well?”

  “Don’t you mean, Nikolai?” He cut the man a threatening glower and Brayden slowly backed away. Victor’s attention stayed upon the man he had trusted for so long as if he were an enemy, briefly forgetting his friend had assisted in the demise of Miruna.

  After Victor had gained control over his appearance, he slowly faced Octavia and fell to her side, relieved she appeared like herself once again. She looked like any other human woman, but now, he knew she was not. What she was, he had not a clue. No one knew, not even the Cabalistis.

  He pulled back her covers. “We must go. Ms. Havershem, grab a cloak.” The Cabalistis were close. He could sense his surroundings more profoundly now.

  “What? Where?” Octavia quivered; she was so frail. Victor
was unsure if her frailty seemed more acute because of his increased vitality. Although his face appeared normal, it was a façade. He was nothing like the self he had once known. He felt like he was teetering on the line between a human and beast.

  “We need to hurry.” He placed the cloak Ms. Havershem had handed him over Octavia’s shoulders and lifted her up.

  “Your face.” She appeared frightened. Victor was aware that he was struggling to maintain composure but had been unaware his appearance had altered. “It looks… strange.” She reached out to touch him, but he turned away. He was not ashamed, but she was never supposed to see him like this. She was not supposed to be a part of this world, his world of utter damnation.

  “Victor, where are you taking her?” Brayden hurried next to him as Victor exited the room. Ms. Havershem was not too far behind.

  “Away. The Cabalistis are close.” He continued down the hallway with Octavia in his arms. He heard her heart racing, but she only stared at him. How would he explain this to her when they got to wherever they were going? Wherever that was.

  “Where? This is not good, Victor. Think. I may not have agreed with everything Miruna said, but some of it I do. This…” he was referring to Octavia being the curse, “is causing you to sway from logic. Knowing what you know, you can’t just react. You have to resist.” Brayden grabbed his arm to stop him, but Victor’s eyes glowed, warning him to step back. Brayden took heed, not wanting to challenge Victor at this time. He remembered that side of him well.

  “I listened to all of you. I’ve tolerated the secrets and the half-truths through the years. The two I most trusted treated me as if I were but a child. Maybe I didn’t push hard enough, somehow knowing if you were both hiding something it must be grave, and it was. No more will I play a part in the Cabalistis plan. They should have killed me when they had the chance.” He walked away from the man, hurrying down the stairs with his once closest friends behind him.

  “Victor, all for a woman?” Brayden chased after him.