“We have to give her draconis spiritus, Victor. It’s the only cure,” Ms. Havershem advised. The cure, ‘dragon’s breath’, was part herbs from the furthest regions of Romania and part vampire blood. It was the cure for the paralyzing poison they'd given her. Left untreated, it would first attack her spine, then her brain, causing convulsions until soon consuming all of her bodily organs, liquefying them. She would die a gruesome death as the discomfort was unimaginable.
“I know,” he pondered. He’d never wanted his world to bleed into hers, but then again, he’d never considered the consequences, only his selfish greed to dominate her. She was blameless in all of this, yet she had been targeted because of him. Two sides wanted her gone—the Cabalistis and his arranged family of union, the Kazakhstans. Who told them? The people under him were loyal to a fault.
Brayden, his trusted comrade, would never hurt her, no matter how steep the price Victor would have to pay. Brayden would rather take out those who might attempt to harm him. He lived for the savage kill.
Ms. Havershem was a trusted source of advice. She did not speak often, but when she did, it was best to listen. “Words should be used wisely,” she’d repeatedly admonished, and she lived by those words. She was a loyal and devoted friend. She held secrets that even their government knew not.
Miruna was just like Brayden—had been around since the beginning of Victor’s existence. Both had to help fix him, educate him, and rear him from barbarity to a distinguished nobleman.
Alex Cagen, his lawyer, knew to keep a secret or he would pay with his life. More importantly, Alex worshiped money far too much to turn on him. Logically, there could be no positive outcome if Alex decided to be disloyal. Alex lived for the deal.
There were many others, but none knew enough about Victor to share his secrets. No. It came down to one, a bitter soul who had the means, the opportunity, and the drive to make this happen — Stacey the hospital secretary, the one who had desired him from so long ago. He’d thought he could trust her after all of these years, even after she had been relieved of her duties as his personal assistant. Astoundingly, she had not reacted when the announcement of his union with Liliya Stankevich had occurred a year ago. Now, the impending marriage was three months away. It was obvious that her hatred for humans outweighed the love she held for Victor. He’d foolishly underestimated her.
As Victor contemplated his next move, Ms. Havershem interrupted his brooding to show him something important she had discovered. “I thought that you should see this. I found this around her neck.” She handed him the ring Octavia had kept hidden for all of these years — Victor’s family crest.
At first he was stunned, but then he took it from the woman. “How could this be? I have no missing rings.” Victor had one for each identity he had been given.
“That, you’ll have to ask Brayden. I haven’t a clue.” She stepped back as if to avoid further discussion. Not generally a fearful woman, she had seen Victor when he had been angered. It was not a mood that she cared to see again, nor did she wish to be the subject of his ire, regardless of how rarely he lost his temper.
He turned back to the woman who was dying in the bed under his roof, a place Octavia had dreamed of so often, but one she’d hardly seen. He still did not know her well, and yet, she had created a huge upheaval in his world. She, his lover, had appeared out of nowhere, stolen his sanity, and warped his destined path. This woman who seemed so familiar, and yet he knew her not. Now this. His very own crested ring. It was no replica. Each ring he’d had made was silver with the crest of a wolf on its hind legs, holding a blade with the words ‘Through blood we shall live’ written in Latin. On each ring, he’d engraved his initials underneath to remind him of who he truly was, Nikolai Von Mort. And there it was, clear as day, carved into this very ring. It matched the one he wore on his left middle finger at this very moment.
His refocused on this stranger who he’d made love to several times, now more intrigued than ever. She was the same one he could not wait to ravish again. The same one who caused him to wondered, if he did not need answers, would he simply let her go.
“Oh, you best be sure that I will ask Brayden about this,” he finally answered Ms. Havershem, who patiently awaited his response. He then placed her necklace around his own neck without further thought. He had imminent matters to attend to. He let go of the ring, for now, allowing his mind to divert its attention to what needed to be done, no matter how he felt about the situation or the person.
“Give her the cure,” he ordered, turning to leave, not once looking back at either woman. From the time it took him to walk from her bed to the door, he’d barked orders to save her life. No, Victor could not let Octavia go.
He walked out of the room and down the wooden staircase, passing rooms that could fit an average-sized condo inside. He reached the first-floor landing and headed to the back hall of the chateau. He pulled down a cast iron latch nestled into the brick wall, thereby releasing a secret door under the south wing stairs. From there, he descended more stairs, until reaching a hidden vault. He opened the door. Inside were his trusted protectors, his bodyguards Sergio and Claudio. They stood in front of the traitor, Stacey.
“Victor…” she wailed when she saw him, but he held up a hand, demanding silence. His jaw tightened at the sight of her and the offensive smell of her traitorous effluvium.
“I’m going to ask you some questions. Questions that I already know the answers to, so don’t try to deny the truth, Stacey.” He sat down in front of her as the two men stepped aside. Although she was much older than Victor, her strength was inferior to his. Age mattered when it came to power, but there were those born with superior abilities, and Victor was one of those fortunate few. He also excelled in compassionless viciousness.
“But it wasn’t…”
“Stacey!” He banged both fists on the table, warping the metal fibers. Stacey jerked back, startled by his manner. It was not like Victor to easily lose his temper. “You would have been wiser coming for me rather than her. It was not your place to try and regulate me.” He sat back in his seat, adjusted his tie, and said “Let me not prolong this any further. You are no longer going to roam this earth once you leave this room,” his tone finding composure. He gave her his full attention; after tonight, she would no longer be a thought. “So now it just depends on which way you want to perish. If you come clean, then I will make sure you go easily; if you lie, you’ll wish you hadn’t.” He was not being facetious by any means. Victor meant business and he didn’t care for those who wasted his time.
“You bastard!” She lunged at him, but Sergio held her back. Victor never once flinched. Her eyes darkened and her skin blanched, revealing dark veins. Her features hardened, giving design to hollowed cheeks. “I hope she endures a ghastly death.” She growled, foam forming in the corners of her mouth when she spoke, “My only regret is not being there when she dies. She’s human, Victor. Human! You’re going to choose that thing over me, one of us.”
He watched her put on a show as he sat there comfortably, one leg comfortably crossed over the other as his middle finger stroked the table. “Sit,” he pointed to the chair, his Romanian dialect asserting itself, for he was truly Romanian. Very few knew Victor’s history and if he spoke ancient tongue that meant you knew him well; mostly, it meant the end was imminent. Although Stacey had known him for a long time, he’d never spoke the old tongue with her. Now she knew he was deadly serious. Slowly, she submitted and sat back down. “Did you inform the Cabalistis?”
“Everything I’ve done, has been for you!” Her body quaked with anger from the passion she still felt for him. She was mortified by his decision to end her life. “I was at your beck-and-call for years, slaving away, hoping, wishing, even praying to their God, that you would give me, give us a chance. I overlooked that you distanced yourself from our friendship, hoping that you would miss me; and then I overlooked your union with Liliya. That I understood—it was under the orders of the ru
lers—but this, I can never forgive. It’s grotesque.”
“Hoc est, ut non loquaris mihi amore peribat?” he asked, unimpressed that her selfish heart had been broken by him.
“Unrequited love? It’s more than that. It’s because of who you chose to be with. How could you lay with her? So, tell me, Victor, did you tell her what you were? No, she would never have loved a monster like you.”
“Well, no matter, she is who I want. I’d rather die alone then lay with you. You, Stacey, could have never graced my bed. I only ever felt pity for you, but not anymore.” His words stung Stacey. She’d seen that stare before, but it had always been directed toward others. She used to feel lucky that his death glare was never meant for her, but not anymore.
“Damn you, Victor,” she fumed. “Yes… yes, it was I who told the Cabalistis about Octavia, but they moved too slowly and the thought of you with a human in your bed was revolting. So, then I told the family of your betrothed. They gladly accepted the task.” She sat back haughtily, pleased by her actions. “You may be the golden child to the Cabalistis, but you’re not above the law. You cannot kill me for ending that whore’s existence. You have to turn me over to the ruling council and they will decide my fate. They will transport me back home and I will live out the rest of my days under their watch, repenting for my sins. Then, I can contentedly live with the knowledge she’s no longer in your arms.”
“So that’s it, isn’t it?” he sat up. “You may care for me, but you never truly loved me. It’s the status that I hold you most desire. You like that they know your name. You like that Stannis listened to you and came when you called. Does that give you power? Do you somehow feel important?” he said, smugly staring at the one he’d once trusted. “No… no, my dear pauper, it leaves you with nothing. They would never trust you again. You went to the rebels behind their backs. You’re dead to me. You will no longer exist in my world.”
“No, Victor. No!” Stacey fell to her knees in front of him, squeezing the table, but wishing that she could touch him instead. She reached for his hands, but he retracted them in disgust. She softened her features and wept into her palms. “It’s you that I need.” She faced up at him, “It is you that I desire. Only you. How could you say that I never loved you? I would do anything for you. You are why I remained here. I would wait a lifetime for you. Please forgive me. I will do whatever you want, but don’t send me away. Now that she’s gone, we can go back to our lives. You don’t have to love me, but don’t push me away from your life. I beg of you.” She grabbed his hand and kissed it. Sergio yanked her back. She flew into the back wall, landing on the stone floor.
Victor was not moved. “What I don’t understand is why you would think I would tolerate treachery? You know me well enough to know that is not forgiven." He stood up to leave, pushed in his chair, and then rested his hands on the table. “Just so you know, Octavia is still very much alive.” He stood fully erect. “So now you can die knowing that she is still on Earth, lying next to me in my bed.”
“No!” she screamed, tossing the table across the room. “You won’t get away with this!”
“Oh, I can and I will,” he snarled. “Actually, I was never going to kill you. That’s too easy for you. In fact, there is a woman who looks just like you, with your identification, in Paris, as we speak. The problem, Stacey, is you showed your hand days ago when you brought Stannis to my office. The Cabilitis need no introduction.” He stood by the door. “This woman, this look-alike, will live out her days as Stacey Urbana, while you will be rotting away in an unmarked human grave, unable to move by the blood of the dragon. There you will awaken, paralyzed, amongst human corpses wasting away, never to be seen again.”
“No.” Her bawling sound was that of a wounded animal captured and begging to be released. Her movements became erratic as she crawled on her knees towards him. No vampire would wish that upon another unless they had truly wronged another and in Victor’s mind, she had. “Please, no!”
“Oh, yes,” he said, bending down in front of her. “Goodbye, my dear old friend.” He brushed her hair away from her plain face, kissed her forehead and snapped her neck. Victor let her slip to the floor and watched the blood fade away from the surface of her skin. A part of him would miss her, but mostly, he regretted never that he had not sent her away sooner. Brayden had warned him a long time ago that he might live to regret keeping her around. He had been right.
“Take her to where we discussed and make sure she is bound and chained tightly before she awakens. I want her to wake with the same poison in her blood that they gave Octavia.” He wanted her to suffer in agony. Although draconis spiritus was deadly, most vampires could survive it, albeit painfully.
Both vampires nodded in acceptance and he walked out the room. As much as he had truly cared for her as an individual, in his world, there was no room for betrayal. They had to trust the ones closest to them; if not, their existence would crumble. It’s not as if they would falter in a battle against mankind, but why start a war when it was not necessary? There were those who wanted a war to suppress the humans and at one point, Victor had shared that same mindset. Not any longer; not since Octavia.
***
Victor had been unable to sleep. He did not require much, but as he sat in his office working, he heard Octavia in the library on the third floor level. Relief washed over him knowing that she was awake and moving about. He was quite surprised that she was up so quickly. The cure generally worked well, but he figured it would take longer for her to heal because she was not a vampire. He would have let her roam alone, but his avaricious tendencies would not allow that.
If he knew Stacey at all, he knew she would have informed Octavia of his approaching union with Liliya. It was one he most heinously regretted. Stannis Dimitri, a member of the Cabalistis, had traveled all the way from Romania to discuss his atrocity of an affair with Octavia, the hominis. He’d reminded Victor of his unbreakable agreement, the union with the savages, the Kazakhstan family, and how they were willing to unite, if he married the head of their council’s daughter, Liliya. They were an unruly cluster, the wildest of their kind. Even though the marriage would be in name only, Victor was still contracted as her mate.
Vampires choose a mate to spend their time with until one died. Rarely did they part ways. Even if one lived halfway across the country or around the world, they stayed bonded. They didn’t carry deep emotions like humans, which is why vampires prevailed. Emotions make you weak, ergo Octavia and the countless mistakes he’d made since meeting her.
Vampires were known to take on lovers beside their mates. It actually commonplace. But Octavia had made it clear by her disappearance that she would not be a mistress, nor would she understand that it was only a treaty binding him to the Kazakhstan, no affectionate attachment. Even if Liliya stayed in Kazakhstan and Octavia could be the lady of the palace here where she would live, Octavia would never agree. Most humans believe in a marriage as a sacred bond between two, united before their God. That he could never do. God was not his maker.
He was surprised that she hadn’t been killed already. That was why Stacey had taken it upon herself to contact Kazakhstan. The council had done nothing when she’d informed them of the human. So Stacey had to go.
Victor found himself opening the door to the library, unaware that he’d even left his office. There Octavia stood, once again healthy, next to a shelf of books. Her head perched above an open page, reading a story, unaware of his presence. He said nothing as she continued to stay engrossed in the tale. She wore a lovely soft blue floor length gown made for a queen. It was part silk and part velvet. Its straps only covered her breasts while exposing the mid area, her arms and most of her back. It then draped down to the floor into a train.
She breathed deeply after having read a few paragraphs of the book and reached to place it back in its slot. In doing so, she stopped mid-motion, noticing Victor standing there. “How long have you been there?”
He heard her heart�
��s rhythm increase. “Long enough to take you in.”
“Victor, don’t…” she trailed off the closer he got to her.
“Tell me to stop and I will.” He came to stand in front of her after hearing no more words of resistance cross her lips.
She walked away “Fiancé?” was all her lungs would allow her to release.
“I do not care for her.” He stepped closer.
“It doesn’t matter.” She put space between the two again. He was sure this was because it was the only way she knew she could resist him. “Your world, this place, it’s unsafe for me. Why would anyone want me dead to get to you?”
At that moment, he wished he could sire her and take her for his own. He wanted to tell her everything — this world, his world, about vampires, but he could not. “Yes, I have enemies. It comes with privilege and power.”
“Enemies? You’re not making any sense and then the men…” her face showed fear. “Their faces…” Victor realized her attackers must have revealed themselves as vampires.
Victor hurried up to her and gripped her face within his palms. “I cannot let you go. I will not,” he said, caressing her lips. “But if you want me to, I will leave you be. Forever…”
“This is madness…” Octavia gazed up at him, speechless. Her heart erratically skipped as her mind clouded. She tried to resist him, but the words of refute would not flow.
Victor continued, “….and I cannot breathe when you are not near. I cannot think when you are not by my side. The last few days have been agonizing, knowing that I could not have you. You are, in all honesty, my life, my breath. You fill my tainted soul and pulsate my lifeless heart. I am the dark and you are my light. I cannot be without you.” He kissed her, not allowing her to refuse him. He would never let her go.
Born Of Sin (Book 1) Page 13
