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Creatus Series Boxed Set

Page 28

by Carmen DeSousa


  Yes, he knew she was alive. She had to be alive. He would find Kristina; and, man or woman, friend or foe, he would tear the culprit apart with his bare hands if he so much as put a scratch on her. He was finished with being nice.

  “Derrick?” His father’s deep voice filled the line. “Dear God, your mother is ready to have a heart attack. What’s going on?”

  Derrick relayed the story as he sped across the highway about ninety, not concerned with getting a ticket. Not that he would stop, even though he did have a get-out-of-jail-free card as a doctor. A state trooper would more than likely just chase him at ninety. Any more though, and he’d have a roadblock waiting for him, and that definitely would waste time. He’d do better to run, but then how would he explain his vehicle left at the hotel.

  His father listened intently without interrupting and then Derrick relayed his greatest concern. “Dad, I’ve been trying to reach Michael, Vic, Jonas, and Ry, and I can’t find any of them. Will you get on the horn and track them down? I’m going straight to my apartment, as the house would be backtracking, and I have a suspicion that this rogue wants me to witness Kristina die, or he would have left her body in the mountains. I have no doubt that he plans to murder her, as he thinks that would kill me. But, he’s partly wrong.” Derrick steeled himself, knowing his father hated violence and loathed vengeance; after all, that’s how his mother’s family had died. “If he hurts her… I’ll use every waking minute of my life to track him down. I will not die or wither away; I will never give up until he dies.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Every time Kris stirred, a quick whiff of the rag and she was out again. But that would only work for so long. Too much would cause cardiac arrest, especially with her history of drug abuse and just detoxing. And Kristina couldn’t die. Not yet.

  Derrick needed to watch her die, needed to know that nothing he did would save her. And Derrick needed to die too. The plan was flawless. Easy actually, since Derrick lived in one of the tallest condos in Back Bay. Even the all-powerful Derrick wouldn’t be able to survive a drop from the roof. Then the poor star-crossed lovers would die together, exactly what Kristina had wanted.

  Based on her history, no one would question that Kristina jumped off the roof, and no one in the family would doubt that Derrick would jump right after her, attempting to save her, as he’d done for the last fourteen years.

  Derrick was too weak to lead their family, and so he would die too. Shame, though. His intelligence and strength would have been invaluable. But choosing Kristina over the family had proven his weakness for humans. The rest of the family would have no problem with the plan to start moving key creatus into top-level positions in the government, something they’d never done in the past.

  Notoriety was something creatus had always shied away from. If you were famous, humans started to wonder why you were still alive when everyone else was dead. But now, they’d use their heritage to their benefit. Outliving their peers would work to their advantage as they infiltrated all branches of the government.

  “Oh, my… head…” Kristina moaned from the passenger seat.

  Enough was enough. She obviously had a high-tolerance to drugs. Pulling the vehicle underneath an overpass before she awoke completely, the rogue sifted through the bag of medical goodies on the floor. “You like drugs, Kristina? You are going to like this drug, lovely. Propofol will give you a high like you’ve never known.” With a slight squeeze of the pump, all of the milky substance disappeared into Kristina’s vein. That would keep her knocked out until everything was ready.

  Escorting Kristina to the parking garage was easy; no one seemed to care that a half-drunk woman was being assisted to her apartment. Of course, sleeping beauty wouldn’t be receiving a princess’ welcome.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  After hours of knocking on doors, and knocking some down, Derrick had no more information on Kristina’s whereabouts than he’d had since she’d been kidnapped from the zip-lining stand.

  He knew he should have just returned to his condo, but he wanted to be in control, to catch the rogue off-guard. He’d questioned and demanded everyone he found, but no one had seen Jonas or Ry, Vic, or even his brother since yesterday. The only hope Derrick had at this point was that the rogue wanted to confront him, so he headed back to his apartment, assuming he’d have to wait for a call.

  Derrick ascended the stairs to his apartment, knowing that anyone waiting would more than likely be watching the front door. As much as he wanted to scour the city for Kristina, he knew all he could do was wait for the rogue’s next move. It was painfully clear that he wanted Derrick to suffer. And so, the rogue would stage an event where he would have to watch Kristina die he was certain. His father had promised to keep searching for the others, rally a group of watchers who would ferret out the rogue once and for all. Though his father and mother had only known Kristina from a distance, they’d loved her as if she were one of their own. His mother had always wanted a daughter and grandchildren. It would kill them too if something were to befall his wife.

  Inching through the emergency-exit stairway door, Derrick saw a figure hunched over in a seated position, arms wrapped around their knees, sitting in front of the entrance to his apartment. His heart skipped a beat, wondering if it could be Kristina, but then he saw a strand of black hair sticking out from the knitted ski cap, standard watcher protocol in the event they needed to shield their faces.

  Padding his way along the corridor, he approached as quietly as possible, but her head jerked up off her knees when he was two doors away. “Derrick,” she said on a sigh. Vic’s eyes were barely visible beneath her swollen eyelids. Crimson ringed her irises as if she’d been crying for days. He’d never seen her cry.

  He shook his head, not believing she could have done anything to hurt Kristina, knowing that he could never fall for anyone again. Surely, Victoria loved him enough not to cast him into a lifetime of torture.

  “Please, Victoria…” He plummeted to his knees in sheer agony, remembering her scornful remarks the other day, her utter hatred for what he had done. His stomach twisted, pain seared straight up to his heart at the thought that she could have left Kristina for dead. “Please tell me you didn’t hurt her. Just tell me where she is, and I’ll do anything you ask. Kristina and I will leave. You’ll never see either of us again, I swear.” The thought that he’d have to kill his best friend to avenge his wife hurt almost as much as the thought of losing Kristina. He knew he wouldn’t be able to live with himself, but hatred surged through his veins. “I love her. Please tell me she’s alive.”

  Confusion shaded Vic’s eyes. “What?” she asked, shaking her head. “You think… you think I’d hurt your wife.”

  A wave of relief washed through him as he lifted himself and her off the ground. “Kristina’s missing. Why are you here? Crying?” Hope flickered like a candle wafting in a draft, but it just didn’t make sense that she’d come here. If Victoria hadn’t heard that his wife was missing, why would she have come here?

  “I wanted to confront you, Derrick. Find out if your relationship was authentic.” Victoria raised her head, releasing a breathy groan, seemingly restraining a cry. “But I guess you just answered my question.”

  Grateful that Kristina might still be alive, he ran his hands over his head, pressing his temples. But now he needed to find the next suspect in his mind.

  “Where’s Jonas?” he demanded. “Have you heard from him or Ry, or Michael? Someone kidnapped Kristina, and it has to be one of them.”

  “You’d accuse your own brother…” She pulled her hand to her mouth, chewing on a fingernail. “You think your brother, or someone in the family could do such a thing?” She closed her eyes in exasperation, shaking her head again. “Why would they kidnap her?”

  Derrick grabbed her shoulders, resisting the urge to shake her until she understood. “I told everyone he threatened her, but no one seems to be taking this seriously. I don’t know why, dammit. I don’t
know anything. All I know is he murdered another innocent man, and Kristina is missing.” He choked out a breath. “Now, where’s Jonas?”

  Vic knocked his hands away and stepped out of his reach. “Last time I saw him was eleven this morning. We ate breakfast together.”

  “Breakfast, at eleven a.m.? That doesn’t sound like you.”

  Her eyes cast downward. “We spent the night together.”

  Odd that that tidbit hadn’t even fazed him, and she’d clearly thought it would. Or maybe she was just embarrassed. “And you haven’t seen him since?”

  She wagged her head in a jerky action. “No.”

  “Where have you been all day?”

  She shrugged. “Just thinking. I’ve been smacked upside the head with a lot of stuff in the last few days, and I’m not sure—” She released a long sigh. “It doesn’t matter. You’ve got more important things to concern yourself with.”

  Derrick released a groan. “I do care, Victoria, but I don’t have any time to think of anything but finding Kristina at the moment.” The problem was he didn’t know where to start. He had hoped that the rogue would call or show, make demands. Obviously he wanted something, but for the life of him, he couldn’t imagine what. Even if it was one of the three men, what could they gain? What had he ever done to them? And then it occurred to him. Maybe his position? They wanted to be overseer? Well, they could have it. He’d leave. He didn’t even care about the position. It wasn’t as if he’d run for office. The council chose the overseer.

  Derrick unlocked the door and held it open for Vic, but she didn’t step inside.

  Vic shook her head. “I have to go, Derrick.”

  He took a step toward her, resting his hand on her shoulder, gentler than he’d been before. She’d been his best friend since they could walk. He’d confided in her more than he had Michael. “You know I never meant to hurt you, right?”

  She nodded. “We both knew. We’ve always been honest about our relationship. But now, I have to go after someone before I lose him.”

  “I need your help, Vic,” he said. She was dressed in black jeans, long sleeve shirt, and a heavy leather jacket over her arm. Obviously, she’d planned to be on watch tonight for him—for all of them. But he knew it must kill her to know she was protecting his wife. Vic was an excellent fighter, and they’d sparred many times. If he had to go up against the rogue, he’d want Vic even before Michael. She may not be as strong, but she was fast, and she knew all his moves, since the same person had trained them. Actually, he’d trained all of them.

  “Name it. Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. But until then, I have to find him.”

  “Who?”

  She turned away, ignoring him. “Call me when you know what you’re going to do.” She pushed open the door to the stairwell and walked out, letting it slam behind her. Like him, she couldn’t be bothered with the elevator.

  Derrick stood motionless for a second, confused, wondering if Victoria had really given up her supposed claim on him that easily. He couldn’t think about it. He picked up the phone and dialed Michael again. He’d been trying to reach him all day.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Kris woke up with a stabbing pain shooting through her skull, reminiscent of the worst hangover she’d ever had. It was dark, so dark, but then again, she could feel a rough material against her face, so maybe it was daytime.

  She had no idea how long she’d been out. Her body was in a fetal position atop a scratchy blanket, but the cold dampness seeped through to her bones. Her arms ached from the unnatural position behind her back, and the restraints cut into her wrists. Her fingers tingled from the lack of blood flow.

  She stretched her top leg out and pushed up with her bottom leg until she was in a seated position with one leg underneath her. She repositioned her body so that she was on her knees, and then propping one leg up and then the other, she managed to get herself to an upright position. The binds were so tight on her wrist she couldn’t pull her arms down the back of her legs as she’d done when she was a child with play handcuffs.

  She took tiny steps forward, not certain where she was. In just a few strides, she bumped into a wall. Moving her head back and forth carefully against the solid wall, she realized in fact, that there was a shroud over her head. A rough burlap material scratched against her face.

  Now would be a good time to scream, she thought, but whatever was over her mouth prevented her from getting any volume. She wiggled her lips, attempting to get the sticky substance free.

  As she worked at moving her mouth up and down and sideways, she skirted the room cautiously, measuring the width and length, tripping over a bucket of some sort every few feet. The stench of oil, grease, and bleach assaulted her nostrils, and she struggled to scratch her nose against the hard cold surface of the wall. The tiny room was only about three by six feet, she guessed. A storage unit, or a maintenance closet, maybe? It was cold, but off the concrete floor, her body felt better, since she still wore her jacket from the hike and zip line trip. But her face was freezing—Derrick! The memory crashed into her consciousness.

  The hike, the zip line. She hadn’t dreamed up Derrick. She wasn’t in a riverbed. The rogue had kidnapped her. Was Derrick okay? Derrick had said that the rogue would kill her first to hurt him, so he was probably okay if she was still alive. But that also meant he had something ruthless in store for her.

  She chewed furiously at the tape. If she could get free… if Derrick was anywhere nearby, he’d hear her. Kris turned to the sound of wood scraping across the floor.

  “Ahh… we’re awake,” the rogue whispered in a guttural sneer. The same voice she’d heard on the platform for a brief second after the rag had been placed over her face. “Now, here’s what’s going to happen, Kristina.” The voice was so low it was hard to recognize. She wasn’t sure if maybe it was because the rogue knew Kris would be able to identify the voice or if Derrick was close enough to hear. “Listen very carefully because I don’t like repeating myself.”

  Kris nodded, since she couldn’t speak or scream anyway with the tape over her mouth.

  “I’m going to take the hood and tape off, but if you as much as utter a word, I’ll kill Derrick. Do you understand?”

  She nodded again.

  “I don’t want to kill, Derrick. I just want him to go away and you are the key. Derrick will do anything for you.”

  The rogue turned her, and the sound of a switchblade snapping open caused her to jump. But then she heard the knife break through the tie around her neck, and felt the sack release from over her head. She still couldn’t see, so obviously she had a blindfold over her eyes as well. A few seconds later, the tape she’d been gnawing on was ripped from her face, leaving a stinging sensation behind.

  “Walk forward,” the rogue commanded, and Kris obeyed, as if she had any choice in the matter. “Remember, not a peep.”

  Kris gulped, wondering if Derrick was nearby, wanting to scream with all her might, but if she caused his death knowingly, she could never live with herself. A few seconds later, her hands were free, but then the rogue pulled them up over her head, cinching them together with another zip tie. Well, at least that was something, she reasoned. At least they didn’t feel as if they would snap behind her back. Now they just ached from the position they’d been in for God knows how long.

  “Move.” The rogue’s hand nudged her forward. “Careful, though, not too fast. I don’t want you to fall.”

  The concrete disappeared below Kris, and she gasped at the pain now in her shoulders as all her weight suspended from just the tie around her wrist. Her legs dangled below her, scrambling to find purchase with anything to release the pain of the plastic digging into her skin.

  “Lift your right leg. There’s a ledge just above your foot,” the rogue commanded.

  Kris did as instructed, feeling the rope remain taut as she inched herself onto the ledge. Only the tips of her toes connected, even as she pushed her foot directly against the
wall.

  “Now, feel to the right with your hands as I direct you,” the whispered words continued, tugging the rope to her right until her hand hit another ledge. “You better do it quickly before I cut the rope.”

  Kris grappled for the ledge, finding the cold niche as it scraped the tips of her fingers.

  “I’m just kidding.” A cackle came from above her. “I’m not cutting the rope yet. Now, I need you to count to one hundred and then scream for Derrick.”

  “But you said…”

  “And I meant it, and you’ve done well. But now if you don’t call for him, I’ll just have to kill him. If you do as you’re told, however, you can both leave and live happily ever after. Remember the rules, Kristina. Don’t call for him until you count to one hundred, so I can be on my way.”

  Something didn’t make sense. Why would she have to count to one hundred? She was in a no-win situation, she realized. If she didn’t call, Derrick would die. If she did call, Derrick would probably die. But… at least if she called, they both stood a chance. Derrick was the most powerful, but she doubted the rogue wanted a fight. But why one hundred. To be prepared?

  With no other choice but to trust that Derrick would save them both, Kris started to count, quickly, hoping she wouldn’t fall from the ledge. Her hands were still bound and secured by the rope, but she wouldn’t be able to climb the wall. It wasn’t like rappelling down, which was easy. She couldn’t walk up a wall. Or at least she didn’t think she could. She continued to rattle off the numbers as she thought of any solution.

  As soon as she hit one hundred, she screamed as loudly as she could, “Derrick!”

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Michael glanced at his phone as it lit up. He looked at the map and smiled. Time to go.

 

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