Born Of Sin 2: Born Of Sin, #1

By Deanna Richmond

Love is a curse.

            Victor Logan Marchette has roamed the Earth for over 600 years as a vampire. Faithful to Cabalistis, the vampires' governing body, Victor's lifelong allegiance has put him beyond reproach.

            Until the day that he meets Octavia Vail.

            No mere woman, Octavia was born from a centuries-old curse – one so dangerous that even the powerful Vampire clan dreads its dark birth. When Victor and Octavia's passion ignites, the curse only grows stronger and beyond Octavia's control. And when Ciprian, the oldest vampire on Earth, discovers Octavia's secret, he'll stop at nothing to destroy her... and Victor.

            Branded a traitor, Victor must escape America with Octavia so he can save her. But it comes with a price. Because keeping Octavia safe means reviving Victor's dark past – the one that gave him the long-forgotten title of Barbarian.

            Born of Sin is a thrilling Gothic Romance that redefines love. Because when Victor and Octavia forge their unlikely relationship, the greatest heights of love can easily fall… into the darkest depths of madness.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Deanna Richmond
• Release date: Feb 11, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386324089

Book preview

Born Of Sin

(Book 2)

by

Deanna Richmond

Copyright © 2018 by Deanna Richmond.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner. 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents

are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. 

This book was printed in the United States of America.

For permission requests, write to publisher, addressed Attention: Permission Request, at the address below

[e-mail] or [e-mail]

Published by Deanna Richmond

Books by Deanna Richmond

Born Of Sin (Book 1)

Coming Soon

A Goddess in Time – March 2019

Born Of Sin (Book 3) – May 2019

Catarina – 2019

When Darkness Falls Boxset - October 2019

Sign up for the author’s new release mailing list and learn more about Deanna Richmond

Click here to get started: deannarichmond.com

If you like young adult, paranormal fantasy, read more about her trilogy under the pen name Dormaine G.

The Connor Chronicles

Contents

––––––––

Books by Deanna Richmond

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

About the Author

Thank You

Born Of Sin (Book 3) Sample

Characters

Born Of Sin (Book 2)

Chapter 1

(The Aftermath at Le Château Rouge)

DISMEMBERED VAMPIRES lay beneath their feet. The acrid stench of death surrounded them like a heavy fog but sadly, they could see through the haze. There was no refuting the truth in what greeted their eyes.

So much death...

Everything was quiet except the eagerly flowing stream that now ran red from loss of vitality. Even Snow, Victor’s white wolf, was drenched with a reminder of what had occurred, Her fur now crimson. She licked her chops in the aftermath of the carnage as she stood by the two who'd just partaken in such viciousness.

Victor lifted Octavia’s chin, making her gaze up at him and only him as time slowed around them. Don’t look at this madness, he pleaded. After it all, he needed her to forget. This malevolence was not brought forth out of malice but out of beauty. It was their love that had forced them to perform such ugliness in order to protect one another.

Victor... Octavia murmured, stunned. Her mind could not comprehend what had just occurred. Her heart, once filled with so much warmth, had easily blackened, once she’d given into the wretched curse deep within her soul. How? she questioned, her lack of understanding poignantly clear. Her moistened eyes diverted back to the earth in wonder of how she could have performed such an atrocity. Victor pulled her closer; for there were no words of consolation to give, only their togetherness could comfort her.

Wildlife seemed to hush in fear that it too would be harmed by the beings standing in the midst of the slaughter. The wind dared not drift too closely by the last two survivors, so it waited in silence. The leaves did not rattle, nor did the debris dare cross their path. It was as if nature knew not to test fate, as if nature’s mother had been robbed of her sole purpose, and had reluctantly relinquished restraint to the wickedness that had replaced her on this night. Only when two of the most stunning creatures this world had ever beheld rushed away, then and only then, did life breathe again as it should.

Through the mountain, by way of a desolate road, Victor and Octavia drove quickly, though the scent of their recent slaughter refused to surrender its grisly hold. Octavia trembled at the sight of flesh and blood still clinging to their skin and clothes like a relentless punishment. She gripped her white dress, now stained rosy red. She wiped her tears away with her fingers, but they too came away painted. Octavia had no memory of even performing the atrocious acts in evidence, but even if she wanted to deny her actions, the proof persisted, not allowing her to live in that world called denial.

She shut her lids and faced the heavens. Nothing made sense, not her sudden memory loss and not her super-human strength. In between bouts of numbness and longing for oblivion, she could not stop the stream of tears. She was confused as to what exactly had happened.

I can’t breathe, she whispered as she faced her love. She wasn’t sure of what Victor had done, or what she’d seen him change into, but it pained her that he’d had to flee because of her.

Victor reached over and clasped her cold hands that refused to stop shaking while his other took the road by force. I will protect you, he promised.

They stared at each other, and Victor’s heart grieved for her loss of innocence. With two fingers, he stroked her cheek and her burdened head fell upon his hand like a broken child. He cupped her face and caressed her stained skin; for at this moment, he was her mother, her father, her everything. He was the only thing Octavia was sure of. Her world had just been ripped to shreds, like the ones they'd left behind on the grounds of Le Château Rouge. He needed to shield her now that she was helpless in this new world of supernaturals.

But as Victor stared at Octavia, she held a radiance he coveted. Twisted as it was, he could not help but think of how Octavia had saved his life by ending the lifespan of the great ancestor Stannis, one of The Three within the Cabalistis.

So he wiped the tears that fell from her eyes and swore, I will never leave you, not even in death.

Never in a million years had Victor imagined that his world would come to this. He was once a man of great power, one who held high ranking with the Cabalistis. He thought of the way the Cabalistis had manipulated him and his vampire kin, and then revealed their desire to kill Octavia . . . he could not bear their treachery.

Come. With one arm, Victor lifted her up, as she sat broken and damaged, and pulled her onto his lap. There she sat in between him and the wheel and wept heavily upon his shoulders. He gripped her head and let her unleash the horrors and fears of being exposed to his ugly world.

But neither could he contain his own emotions, as a trail of water found passageway down his cheek and onto Octavia’s curls. Ever since she’d come into his life, his own torturous memories had started to resurface. Haunting thoughts of what seemed like another’s wretched memories continued to plague him. Anger ignited within and with each sharp turn, his tires screeched in protest, but he never once slowed. He took his anger out on the path, desperately needing revenge for all of the Cabalistis' deceptions. He securely gripped his love, his so-called curse, as another memory unwittingly reemerged as they raced away.

Early 1500s

Nikolai Von Mort

THE FALCON, A COMMANDING pirate ship, splashed down on the angry oceanic rapids that held no mercy against the keel of the vessel. The swirling winds howled aggressively as they clashed against the ship’s sails. The men tirelessly fought to keep their navigation steady, but the sea was in no mood to be sailed upon this day. Several riggers had already fallen to their deaths from the high spar above. One would think that nature was telling the Falcon to turn back, that they were not welcomed in the direction they were headed, but they trudged onward undeterred. The seamen held onto the side rails, or whatever they could grip, to keep from falling overboard as the high waves unforgivingly splashed onto their temporary home. The pirates needed to keep the hull free of seaweed and other marine life to maintain the ship’s integrity.

A schooner like this was known for its speed and narrow hull, which allowed its occupants to maximize stealth to facilitate sneak attacks against their prey. None but smugglers, murderers, runaways and their kin boarded a vessel such as this. The captain was the most aggressive of them all. He was easily the ugliest and the meanest of the crew, and even though he donned naval gear, no doubt stolen, he was no gentleman. On this ship, there was no man worse than he. However, there was an evil being on this ship that was so much worse. He was a soulless creature, a monster that put the fear of the devil in the captain, though the captain was far from religious.

Nikolai Von Mort stood between a pile of dead men and the petrified captain of the Falcon. A victim he had just fed upon fell from his grasp and slid down onto the deck floor to lay next to the rest of Nikolai’s hapless victims. The metallic stench of blood and death that radiated off the boat was insulting to one’s nares, but to Nikolai, it smelled divine—a life-giving perfume. After licking his lips that dripped with blood, he took a handkerchief from his breast pocket to rid the rest of the evidence from his fingers. The greedy vampire glowered at Captain Stone, who steered the ship with nervous precision. Nikolai could hear the captain’s pounding heart and staggered breaths. Even though the human refused to glance the vampire’s way, he was well aware of Nikolai’s presence.

Nikolai purposely stood there, unnerving the man who whimpered with each noise from the ship; an older ship such as the Falcon always had reason to whine. It was aged, but not as old as the centuries-old vampire. There were other men on the ship to toy with, but Nikolai gave the captain his all, and any attention from this vampire was never a good thing. Without words, Nikolai’s terrifying proximity warned the man to keep quiet about his kills, or he’d be next.

As the boat rocked against the current of the unruly sea, Nikolai stood steadily when the boat slapped back down from menacing heights. The crew that was still alive were compelled to toss his dead-feast into their wet blue graves. They were not aware of their actions, but the captain’s mind was free. There always had to be one. There was never a time Nikolai didn’t agonize one poor soul. If the man were smarter, he would have realized Nikolai could not kill him, for he was the only left to steer their passageway.

Nikolai had been adamant about booking passage on a ship from France. They could have easily paid for more comfortable arrangements, but he saw cargo ships, like this one, as traveling buffets. There was nowhere for the crew to run, so it always made for a satisfying exploit. Plus, these unsavory characters who lived on the sea were never questioned when docked. The locals feared them too much.

It had been a long trip, just under three months, when Nikolai and his mentor Brayden finally arrived in England, which was under the rule of King Henry VIII. They were famished, at least Nikolai was. What remained of the ship’s company was virtually nonexistent, thanks to the unappeasable enthusiasm of Nikolai.

Brayden could not control the spirit within his apprentice, Nikolai. He had been assigned to look after the younger vampire, so ordered by their governing rule the Cabalistis. Although it seemed as if he had made Nikolai more humane, in truth Nikolai only appeared tamer than the unrestrained savage who had roamed for the first hundred years. Despite Brayden’s frequent protestations, he had to admit that Nikolai most certainly made life interesting.

Brayden walked up on deck with their bags and noted the number of bodies. He had only left Nikolai alone for an hour’s time. His nostrils flared at Nikolai, but the trying vampire stared longingly at the captain, who had soiled himself long ago. Brayden picked up on Nikolai’s mood, the one that needed to feed, the part of him that needed to kill, and the one that yearned to gift the world with death.

Nikolai... Brayden tugged on the cloak of the entranced vampire. Nikolai grabbed Brayden’s hand and it took a second for the vampire to break his own trance. He acknowledged Brayden with a flat expression.  I need you to calm this wicked mood you’re in. I will take you down if I need to.

But Nikolai’s mood did not calm. Instead, he challenged the older vampire with the lightening of his eyes and elongated teeth. With great speed, Brayden took him to the deck’s floor and held a steel dagger to his throat.

VICTOR SNAPPED OUT of this memory. It was like so many other memories where Victor had opposed his teacher. He felt sorrow for the man who’d had to endure his relentless rebellious ways, and for having to leave him behind. Brayden was a good man and loyal to those he loved.

As far back as Victor could remember, there had been only one or two times when Victor had needed to pull Brayden back from the edge.  Brayden was habitually composed but when, angered there seemed to be no stopping him. Victor wondered if Brayden disguised a darkness within himself as well, and if teaching Victor to be more civilized somehow soothed the beast within himself.

But Victor could not think of Brayden as he and Octavia fled for their lives. Instead, he focused on the road, thinking of their next destination.

Chapter 2

Octavia

OCTAVIA SAT UP FROM the bed, controlled by an unseen force. She stared at her hands and feet, and although they belonged to her, it was as if another were ruling them. It felt as if a great force were pulling her forward. What jumbled thoughts she could identify seemed not to be her own. She found herself descending wooden stairs, though seconds ago, she’d stood in the room in front of the mirror. Octavia grabbed the railing along the wall for support. She hadn’t a clue how she'd come to be here so quickly, but scattered thoughts did not stop her from moving forward.

Her hand twisted the front door knob. She stepped out into the world, draped in a long blue gown, the ends trailing behind her. Immediately, an unpleasant odor caught her attention. Her head jerked in the direction of the offending smell, and yet it enticed her senses. Down the front steps into the darkness, Octavia roamed in search of the irresistible effluvium. Nothing around her made sense, and yet she did not feel any danger.

Her body tingled with a surge of energy. She instinctively looked up. A bright circle above called to her, compelling her attention. Octavia shut her eyes, and there in the dead of night, her body slowly swayed as if listening to a lovely tune synchronized to the pleasing sensation. The pungent odor drifted her way again, and she stopped moving. Only her head turned in the direction of the scent. Once again, that force within moved her feet forward.

Octavia's bare soles walked on the cement, passing buildings to which she paid no mind and other inhuman entities that