Born Of Sin (Book 1) Page 3

  It was most certainly his eyes. Yes, the color’s intensity was captivating, but there was more. She felt a connection with this stranger. It was as if his gaze called to her. Only her. His bewitching regard was the key; to what, she was unsure. But what sealed her intrigue was the crest next to the man’s picture; she knew that mark well. Her ring, a secret she’d kept hidden in her keepsake box, had a crest identical to the one in the portrait. The ring was the only possession she recalled from her first day of memory. It seemed Emily had forgotten all about it, and Octavia wanted to keep it that way.

  Why didn’t Octavia tell her mother? Even she couldn’t say. She didn't have a reason, but something within her wanted to keep silent. Maybe it was because Octavia had so few secrets of her own, so she said not a word.

  She kept her head down reading, not wanting to make eye contact with her mother. The fire in her eyes would surely show the eager anticipation of her possible connection to this stranger. Perhaps he could provide a clue to her past. He could be the key.

  Emily brushed Octavia’s behavior off as a crush and decided to let it go. Little girls have crushes all the time, Emily thought. It’s natural; they eventually pass. Emily hoped to herself as she watched the girl on the floor, who was focused on the man who no longer existed.

  But Octavia’s crush never wavered.

  A year had passed and every so often Octavia continued to ask about meeting Nikolai. It wasn’t until her twelfth birthday that Emily told Octavia the truth.

  “Listen, Octavia.” She sat her daughter down on the couch when Octavia came to her again about Nikolai. It was in the very same room the girl had first seen the picture of him. Emily thought it odd that she hadn’t gotten over her crush by now, especially since she’d never met the man. “I’m sorry, but Nikolai passed away a very long time ago. I was hoping this infatuation of yours would pass.”

  “No, I don’t believe it,” Octavia snapped. She rushed away from her mother, planting herself in the far corner with her fists clenched at her thighs. “You’re lying!” she screamed, pointing at her mother, believing her mother was being cruel. “He’s alive. I know it.” She refused to believe her. She felt it down to her bones that he was alive. He had to be. She didn’t know how or why, but she knew her words to be true and her mother's words false.

  “Octavia, please.” Her mother found her reaction quite peculiar. She hesitantly walked over to the irate child and took Octavia into her arms. Emily was surprised by her reaction, and when the girl fell to the floor as if in agony, Emily lost her hold on the child. She fell back against the wall in wonder while listening to her daughter’s wails.

  After a few moments, Emily sat next to her on the floor, pulling Octavia to her chest, as she cried in her arms for over an hour. The patient mother tried to console the inconsolable. Octavia wept as if she'd lost one so close to her heart, it tore at Emily herself.

  To Emily, this didn’t make any sense. Why would a twelve-year-old child to act like this? How could she become attached to a portrait, let alone a grown man she knew nothing about? Yes, Octavia had it harder than most children. And there were times she’d often wondered if the child had an old soul that was reincarnated. Being an anthropologist, she was aware of cultures that held such beliefs. She did as well.

  Emily felt compelled to ease her daughter's pain. “Octavia,” she sat the weeping girl up. Her bottom lip quivered while her big orbs pleaded with her mother not to be unkind. “I truly believe that if two souls are meant to meet, they will find each other, no matter the great distance or time between them.” Somehow, those words seemed to provide the child with an enormous measure of comfort. “And one day we will visit that hospital.”

  Octavia fully sat up, wiping her tears. She gripped her mother’s arms, trying to make her mother understand. “He’s alive. I just know it.” Her eyes beseeched Emily to believe. Emily nodded and kissed her daughter on the forehead. In the corner of Emily’s office, they sat in silence, until shadows crept across the room and dusk arrived.

  ***

  By the age of sixteen, Octavia had grown into an exceptionally beautiful young lady. She was average height with natural grace. She had hazel eyes, which changed color based on her mood. And though her skin tone was olive-colored, it became a soft bronze in the summer months. Her lips were full and pouty. But what got her into trouble was her shape. Men that were twice her age approached her, though she did not care for it. Octavia wasn't like many girls her age. She preferred less attention, especially from the opposite gender; moreover, she buried her nose in books. She was smart and looked forward to one day leaving the town in which she’d grown up. College was her goal, and there was nothing to stop her focus.

  Octavia and Jared talked about moving away to go to school overseas -- someplace warm, where no one knew them. Although, there remained that tug deep down in Octavia’s soul, always pulling her toward Pennsylvania, the place she now dreaded. Ever since her mother had informed her that Nikolai was supposedly dead, she’d started to fear venturing there. What if her mother was right? Why did she care so desperately for a stranger who might no longer exist, even though she believed that he did? Maybe she was afraid of the answers. Maybe she was afraid this connection she had concocted in her head had no basis in reality.

  To her mother, going away to college was not an option, especially when she could go for free at her mother’s university. And that is exactly what she did. Octavia graduated with a Bachelor’s in Nursing at the age of twenty–four, then worked at the same hospital where she had met her mother.

  Octavia continued to live at home, and although they lived a full life together, traveling often, they never visited the hospital of Nikolai Von Mort. Professor Emily Vail died in a freak accident twenty-two years after adopting Octavia. A driver came out of nowhere, killing her instantly. The accident had a profound effect on Octavia, driving her into a deep depression, because while Emily had been her mother, she had also been a close friend. If not for Jared and Agent McKenzie, along with his wife Betty, it’s doubtful a funeral would have taken place.

  Octavia ended up quitting her job, which held far too many memories. Agent McKenzie stayed as long as he could. Eventually, his leaving was very hard for the both of them. But before he left, he advised Octavia to take a chance on life, not to allow fear to prevent her from living the full life that her mother would have wanted for her.

  She quickly realized their big home felt empty without her mother and there was nothing keeping her in Connecticut any longer. Octavia knew she was using any excuse to stay, to avoid moving to Pennsylvania. Jared had already moved there six months ago, after being given a job opportunity he could not refuse. Actually, she knew he’d gone there in part, to force her to face her fears and prove to herself just how illogical they were.

  Octavia decided that it was time to determine her own fate and to leave Connecticut. This place had provided much turmoil, and little comfort. After considerable thought, she decided to move near the place she had always been drawn to, Château du Roux, Castle of the Red, the place Nikolai Von Mort had lived centuries ago.

  In her heart, she still felt as if he existed, even though common sense would tell her otherwise. She hoped that the place held the answers that she so desperately needed. It seemed as if her fate was leading her there, the place that haunted her. As much as she tried to fight the pull, life was sucking her towards it. Truth be told, she needed to go to touch the very place where the man that called to her lived. Maybe it would provide the comfort she sought. Regardless, she had to go and face her yearning fear—Nikolai Von Mort.

  Chapter 3: Present Time

  Octavia

  Octavia stepped into the main lobby of the Pennsylvania Medical Center for her night shift. Even before she’d arrived at work, everything felt surreal. The evening breeze whispered promises, informing her of changes ahead. It was as if a force were pulling her forward, and she had no choice but to oblige. She could not help but explore the sensatio
n beckoning her. For the first time in her twenty-eight years, this journey felt like the right path, a path she’d chosen, a path that filled her heart with unexpected wonder.

  It was her first night after a month of training on days. She looked forward to working as a pediatric nurse, her favorite unit. She remembered vividly being that scared child no one had understood -- the child who had received so many stares, while nobody seemed to understand how frightened, how cold and alone she felt.

  The center was on the smaller side, with only three hundred beds or so, but Octavia was blown away by its extravagance. During the day, while training, she’d never had time to explore the hospital. The building had the look and feel of a castle on the outside, and a modern flare on the inside. The ceilings were vaulted and the place spacious. A huge fireplace sat off on the far wall where people would gather. Burgundy and charcoal gray couches and chairs surrounded the fire. The walls were a mixture of colored stones in between lined windows which you could not see in from the outside. Best of all, it had a great reputation for nurturing a great workforce.

  As she roamed the exquisite room, like the doe child she once had been, she became overwhelmed with anticipation. Along the stone walls were stands with inspirational quotes inscribed on large tablets. One, in particular, caught her eye. It read: “When someone you love becomes a memory, the memory becomes a treasure.” Octavia was speechless as she wandered closer to the plaque, kissed her hand, and touched the saying with a trembling fingers. She thought of her mother and all those who had loved and nurtured her.

  A host of voices soon came to remind her that she was, in fact, in public, so she shook off the nostalgia and regrouped. Once she had positioned herself to leave, she felt a strong, electric surge -- an intuition telling her to turn around. In the direct path of this gravitational pull stood the most striking creature she had ever laid eyes upon. As if the second hand on a clock had stopped, so did she, unable to turn away.

  There he stood, on the other side of the lobby, wearing a dark tailored suit and commanding the attention of six others. His skin was a light olive tone. He had a dark beard which caressed the lower portion of his face. It connected to a well-kept mustache and surrounded his soft, full pink lips; not too full, just enough to make a girl wonder what they tasted and felt like against her skin. Standing at least six feet, his hands were in his pockets as he spoke in a mild manner. Not that Octavia could hear him, but she imagined his voice, deep, yet somehow soothing.

  “My God, you are breathtaking.” Octavia’s chest rose and fell heavily as she whispered to herself. And as if he heard, the stranger became aware of her presence at that moment. Octavia's breath stuttered. She looked away for a split second, feeling herself blush, but glanced back, simply because she had to. The magnetism between the two made her shiver. In all honesty, he stole her breath away.

  She had thought it impossible that he could be any more alluring, but the impossible became real. He was magnificent. His features were so flawlessly sculpted that he almost didn’t appear to be a living, breathing man. What she absolutely loved was the white streak in the front of his dark hair. His eyes were majestic, set in the deepest shade of blue. Those two oceanic windows both warmed and chilled her core, as a keen sense of familiarity took hold. “You cannot be real,” she whispered.

  As his eyes continued to linger in her direction, his listeners waited for his attention. When it did not come in a timely fashion, the others turned to see what had caught his interest.

  The world be damned. Octavia and the alluring man continued to stare at each other. Neither said a word or moved toward each other; they were simply trapped in each other’s gazes. They forgot a world existed outside of themselves. To others, it would've appeared that Octavia was held spellbound and he was the spell caster, but somehow, he was caught up in his own enchantment.

  The magic broke when a woman stood in between their points of view, shaking Octavia out of her stupor. A fit of anger overcame Octavia as she fell back to Earth. It was such a rush that she had to catch the very breath he’d stolen. She hurried off without turning back.

  Once around the corner, Octavia fell against the wall. She remained confused as to what had just happened. She covered her mouth with shaking hands, desperately trying to compose herself. What was that? It felt as if she’d lost control and consequently relinquished it all to him. With closed lids, Octavia took several long, deep breaths, and then decided to go to the roof to get some fresh air. She would be able to view the castle from there. In the past month, it had become her place of serenity.

  Still flushed from the encounter, she fell against the ventilation pillar on the roof and took calming breaths of the cool air. Octavia removed her shoes and let her feet rest upon the gravel rooftop. She allowed herself to absorb this place of true magnificence. The sea of green between the hospital and the castle appeared to be within arm’s reach, but to Octavia, it was a million miles away since it wasn’t hers.

  The greystone castle sat off in the distance, appearing more exquisite with each passing day. It towered above the surrounding trees; it seemed to reach the heavens, it was so grand. She had read that the castle had almost as many rooms as the hospital, and yet, it was bigger. She longed to step foot in that abode, but it was not hers to desire.

  Most people wanted a quaint home with a picket fence, but not Octavia. She wanted Château du Roux. She always had and always would. She rested her head against the pillar and shut her eyes. She dreamed of touching the front double door, entering into a world of magic.

  Caught off guard for the second time that night, Octavia jumped when someone came up behind and grabbed her waist. “Jesus, Jared. I could've fallen over.” Octavia had been so wrapped up in her thoughts, she hadn't heard him approaching.

  “Oh please. If you'd died, you would be happy that this ugly old castle was your last memory.” He waved his hand about, dismissing the place. “I was calling to you, but you were in such a mad rush, like you were running from an angry mob. Remember, this is a new start for both of us.”

  “I know, I know.” Octavia sighed heavily, lightly pounding the brick post in a playful manner.

  Jared wrapped his hands around her waist. He then swung her around. “Now listen. There is no moping. It’s time to reinvent ourselves. Most people don’t know us well, so let’s have some fun. That is until the police get involved,” Jared scolded.

  “You’re crazy, Jared, just crazy, but right. It is time I let loose and stop worrying so much, constantly looking over my shoulder. Hell, worrying never worked before,” she admitted.

  “Girl, you need a pick-me-up, if you know what I mean,” He sang the last part of the sentence.

  “Sex is not always the answer, you know. No, I’m here for one thing -- a better life. That’s all.”

  “Oh please, Miss Goody-Two-Shoes. Maybe not in your book, but it makes me happy. All I’m saying is, loosen up and have an open mind. Unfettered sex is the best remedy for any ailment.” His sinister leer made her laugh.

  “All I know is that I need to get to work before they fire me on day one of nights.” They both walked off, heading to their units discussing nothing really, but all Octavia could think about was the stranger downstairs. Even the thought of him made her stomach flutter. She held onto her belly, not sharing her thoughts with her best friend. She pondered the idea of meeting him one day. One day soon.

  Chapter 4: Victor

  Victor's sharp eyes remained glued to the woman, as hers did to him. He heard her whispers clearly from across the room. He too, could feel the connection. It was hypnotic, so much so, that his body locked in place as if he could no longer govern himself. He lost his sensibility.

  There was a bluish glow about her, while most humans radiated red. His tunnel vision traveled in one direction only. Hers. That was unusual for his kind. Vampires.

  Her attractiveness was superior to most. Not a blemish or scar marked her remarkable face that held not an ounce of makeup, other
than her inviting, pink, gloss-covered lips. Her eyes were hazel spheres of light that curved slightly upward at the ends. Her dark, wavy curls fell well past her shoulders, cradling her face. Her hair draped mostly to the left. Beneath a white dress, her body whispered a tune of sensuality, beckoning him to touch her enticing curvature. He could hear her heart race fervently. If his chest had held such a vital life force, his would match her beat to the second. He was enthralled by such an enigma. This woman was a mystery because she, not his kind, managed to intrigue him.

  This was apparent to others. The hospital secretary and Victor’s biggest admirer, Stacey, stood in the group next to him. She had loved that man for over fourteen years and would do anything for him. So, when he faced another woman, it took all that she had not to rip the unfamiliar female’s head right off her shoulders. The stranger was unknowingly invading Stacey’s territory.

  “Are you all right, sir?” Stacey asked, blocking his view of the woman, purposely breaking the spell. For a split second, Victor almost balked at his secretary, but held his resolve to listen as the young woman across the room rushed off.

  “What? Yes, of course.” Victor cleared his throat, still lost in the woman whose footsteps had just begun fading away. He attempted to remember what he had been saying when Stacey, once again, against his inner desires, came to his rescue.

  “You were talking about our next meeting, when we would discuss the quarterly stats.”

  “Yes, thank you, Stacey. We will pick this back up tomorrow.” He acknowledged the others and bid them adieu. He could barely make eye contact with anyone, which was rare for him. He was still flowing with unfamiliar adrenaline. His body temperature had risen well above normal as he walked away to the hospital’s small conference room to control himself.