Creatus Series Boxed Set

by Carmen DeSousa

  Michael jumped off the couch again. “Why? Who cares, Derrick? Humans nearly wiped out our ancestors. They didn’t care about our kind when they tried to burn them at the stake or succeeded in killing them by stabbing them through the heart. Since they think we’re demons, maybe we should act like monsters. It doesn’t matter that the myths are wrong. It doesn’t matter that we have a heart and don’t drink blood. Because we are stronger than they are and eat raw meat, we’re spawns of Satan in their eyes.” Michael smashed his fist into Derrick’s punching bag in the corner. Although it was on a stand bolted to the concrete floor, it crumbled under his fury. “Maybe Jonas is right.”

  As cool as he always was, Derrick crossed the room. “Jonas is not right, and I don’t ever want to hear you say that again. And stop breaking my house.” He lifted the steel stand with one hand and held the three-hundred-pound bag up in front of him. “Go ahead.”

  Mike pounded the bag until it exploded, spilling out its contents.

  “Feel better?” Derrick asked.

  “Not much.”

  Derrick patted him on the back. “If Vic falls for you, great. I’ll be the best man at your wedding—since you know mom will insist—and I’ll watch Reece. But if she falls for Reece, you need to leave it at that, Mike. Understood?”

  Mike shook his head again. “No, but I won’t do anything that causes her harm either.”

  “Jonas is not right. Killing innocent humans is not right, and you know we can’t expose ourselves. No matter how many humans believe they’d be okay with a creatus living next door, you know it’s simply not true. The first time humans saw one of us jump off a ten-story building, run as fast as a cheetah, or eat a raw steak, they’d scurry away in fear, and then come back with reinforcements. And since they don’t carry pitchforks anymore, a war would ensue.”

  “So…”

  “You ready to watch your family die? You ready to watch Mom die? We can’t protect everyone. We can escape. She’s human, as is my wife, and then there are the older creatus to think about. Dad, Dean…they’re not strong enough to run or fight. We’d lose a war, Mike.”

  Michael reached down to clean up the scraps of cotton he’d strewn across the floor.

  Derrick patted him on the back again. “Leave it. I’ll clean it up. Let me know when you want to spar for real. I could use a good workout.”

  Michael forced a smile and left the room, brushing past Kristina. “Sorry if you heard anything I said, Kris. No matter what you may think about me, I swear I don’t hate you. I just hate your species.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Vic picked up the syringe and shoved it into the front pocket of her jeans. She’d made up several vials, so she’d just have to be better prepared to use them.

  She pressed her fingers to her lips, feeling the tingle from Michael’s almost kiss. God, she was so confused. Did she want Michael, or was it just because he was the closest replacement to Derrick?

  She couldn’t imagine how hard it would be to be a human, to never know for sure that the person you loved was your perfect match. But then again, if she didn’t have to wait until she fell, she and Derrick would have made a commitment a long time ago. Maybe it was all a lie. Maybe falling didn’t really exist. Maybe nobody wanted to admit that it hadn’t happened, so they faked it. She waved off the thoughts.

  Who cares? If I fall, I fall. I’m done trying. From now on, I’m just going to have fun. I’ll take care of stupid Reece, and then I’ll go out with equally stupid Michael.

  Oh, that will be so much better, her inner voice chimed.

  God, she couldn’t even win an argument with herself. What was wrong with her? And of course, she always had to keep these feelings bottled up because she couldn’t speak aloud for fear one of her kind would overhear.

  But not here…she was on nearly ten acres of property. She could run, jump, climb, whatever she wanted. The fence around the house was tall enough to keep out humans, which was rather ironic. Humans built fortresses to keep out animals and human monsters. Creatus built walls to keep out humans, so they could live in peace.

  Maybe Jonas was right. Maybe they did need to start a war.

  Vic quietly opened the door, her thumb hooked inside her jeans casually, but ready to draw on him if need be.

  “It’s about time…” Reece had his long legs stretched out on the sofa, a large aluminum bowl overflowing with popcorn in his lap. He threw a popped kernel up in the air and caught it.

  “You have food,” she said. “I stocked the kitchen with plenty of hu—food.”

  “Hugh food? What exactly is ‘hugh’ food? You mean ‘human’? I’m not stupid, Vic. I know you’re not human. So since I’m your prisoner of war, why don’t you start at the beginning?”

  She just stared at him. She couldn’t tell him anything. What if he escaped? “Reece, please shut up.”

  He lifted his chin, but then she heard him intake a breath. “Nope! What’s for dinner?”

  Vic sighed, exasperated. The man was infuriating. She hated talking. Most people spoke just to hear themselves talk. “I bought you all types of food. Can’t you find something to eat?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t eat pre-packaged foods. They’re loaded with sodium, sugar, and bad fats. I only eat fresh foods.”

  “You’re kidding me…” Why was she not surprised? Was Derrick right? No…he wasn’t right. Reece was eating popcorn. Creatus couldn’t eat any foods cooked at the temperature it’d take to pop the kernels. “You’re eating popcorn,” she pointed out.

  “Popcorn is my exception…but thank you for getting the light brand.”

  She hadn’t meant to buy light; she just grabbed what she’d seen advertised on TV. She’d never eaten popcorn or any cooked food for that matter. It was poisonous. But sometimes…she’d smell it and want it. Humans didn’t know how lucky they were, but then again, maybe that’s why her kind lived to be a hundred and fifty or older.

  “So, what do you want?”

  “If I have a choice, a thick juicy steak would be good…with a large salad, but vinegar only,” he said quickly, as though she might disappear.

  “How do you like your steak?”

  Reece smiled. “Rare enough that a great veterinarian could bring the steer back to life.”

  She couldn’t stop it; a burst of laughter poured out of her. “You southerners with your sayings. I like that one, though, I’m going to use that next time I go out to eat.”

  “You like your steak rare too,” he asked seriously.

  “You have no idea, Reece Buckley.”

  Victoria turned but then stopped herself again…she had to remember not to let down her guard. Then she really felt her head spin…had she just thought of herself as Victoria?

  She ran out of the room and up the stairs, then ran back down when she realized she’d forgotten to lock the door.

  At the top of the stairs, she headed to the kitchen to make dinner…for a man. She’d never made dinner for a man, not even Derrick. They always dined out.

  Well, she really wasn’t making dinner for a man; Reece was her prisoner. If she really believed that, what were the stupid butterflies doing in her stomach? And why hadn’t she ignored Reece when he called for her earlier? Why hadn’t she kissed Mike back?

  She opened the bottle of merlot she’d pulled down earlier. Before Michael had whispered in her ear, before he’d pressed his lips against hers, before his tongue had started to enter her mouth, before Reece…

  She gulped down the wine and filled her glass again. She pulled down a cast-iron skillet hanging above the island. It was mostly for looks. Probably, no one had ever used the pan, unless Derrick’s mom had been here.

  She flicked on the overhead copper vent and then turned one of the knobs at the front of the stove to turn on the gas. She’d never cooked anything, but she’d lived long enough to see this done.

  She pulled out two New York strip steaks from the massive fridge. The house was large enough to support a small
army, so the fridge was one of those double-door industrial-size fridges. In the event they had to disappear, this was the first place that the Ashtons, her father and brother, and several other families would go, a home that no agency could track—for a while anyway. Up until now, visiting friends and relatives had been the only ones who’d stayed here.

  While she waited for the pan to get hot, she pulled out all the makings of a salad. At least Reece and she had a few things in common—she shook her head.

  “Victoria Leigh Maher,” she said aloud. “What on earth is wrong with you?” She didn’t want to have anything in common with the human.

  She threw all the vegetables into the bowl, mixed in three types of greens, and then added fresh nuts from one of her cousins’ farms. They grew anything that they couldn’t guarantee hadn’t been cooked.

  After plopping both steaks on the skillet for a couple of seconds, she removed them. She’d only be able to eat the middle of the steak, so she’d have to be careful that Reece didn’t see her. Most humans couldn’t handle watching a creatus eat raw meat, the reason why when they were dining out in public, most of her kind ate sushi. Luckily, no one questioned that entrée anymore.

  She started toward the stairs, but then stopped when she realized what Reece had done—again. He’d chosen a food that needed a knife to eat. Thick juicy steak. Humph!

  Vic went back into the kitchen and cut his steak into bite-sized pieces, leaving his silverware on the counter. He could eat with the plasticware she’d stocked. Good luck with him getting the knife from her.

  Balancing all the food on a tray, Vic unlocked and entered the room, thankful that Reece still had his legs stretched out on the sofa. She eyed him, making sure he knew not to make any fast moves while she set down his dinner in the dining area of his quarters.

  The suite wasn’t small by any means; it was just cave-like, since they’d filled in all the windows. The air came and left through vents on the ceiling, which had iron grates, again, cemented into the interior of the walls.

  After she placed the food on the table, Reece made his slow way from the living area. She wasn’t sure if he didn’t want to spook her or if that was just his southern way.

  “Smells wonderful—” He stopped and stared at his steak. “You cut my steak?”

  For the first time, Vic smiled, since he was obviously displeased. “Yep!”

  He flashed a grand smile. “How sweet…just like Mom used to. You do care.”

  She felt a growl build inside her. “Not because I care, and I’m definitely not sweet! So you wouldn’t have a weapon.”

  He winked at her. “Just kiddin’, darlin’.”

  Oh, my God! she wanted to scream. He’s infuriating! Why had Derrick done this to her?

  “Please sit down, Victoria Leigh Maher, I’m starving, and I hate to eat alone. Beautiful name, by the way. So much prettier than Vic.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “That’s it! Who are you?”

  “What do you mean?” he said innocently, spearing several pieces of steak onto his plastic fork.

  “You heard me through two steel doors and a concrete floor.”

  “I have good hearing.”

  “How old are you?”

  He leaned back in his chair, meeting her eyes. “Forty-nine. How old are you?”

  She smiled. “Thirty-four,” she lied. Technically, she was forty-four, but per human records, she was ten years younger. Creatus weren’t issued birth certificates until they were already ten years old in human years, so when they entered the human world at thirty-five, after they’d finished their education and teaching at a creatus school, they had years to catch up. After that, thirty-five was a difficult age to discern in most races.

  “You’re kidding…” He set down his fork and studied her face. “You look twenty-three, at best.”

  “Have you looked in the mirror, Reece? You could easily pass for thirty.”

  He waved it off. “I’ve always looked young for my age. It’s my heritage.”

  “What exactly is your heritage?”

  Reece thrummed his fingers. “Actually, I don’t know. My father was adopted…but he suspected that his parents were Italian or Greek.”

  Vic listened, but she couldn’t remove her gaze from his hands. He had large, but beautiful hands. Clean and well-manicured, but also scarred, as if he’d done hard labor. “And your mother?”

  Reece exhaled. “Not sure…she was just a country girl from South Carolina when my father met her in Fort Bragg. He was in the Special Forces, but when he retired, he became the chief of police in a small town.”

  “Derrick said they are both gone?”

  “Yeah…”

  “So your dad never found out the heritage of his biological parents?”

  Reece shook his head and speared a tomato. “Nope.”

  Vic just nodded.

  “So, tell me about you,” he inquired again.

  She shrugged, shaking her head. “Nothing to tell. I was born in Harvard, educated in London, and I work for my family’s hospital.” Boring…she’d done nothing. Here she was this supposed mythical creature the world was intrigued with, and no one knew anything about her, what she was capable of. She wasn’t even a real doctor anymore, since she’d proven to herself that she’d crack under the pressure of actually having to save someone who was dying. One of her closest friends. If his father hadn’t been there, Michael could have died because of her.

  Reece dropped his head and stared up at her beneath his long dark-blond eyelashes. His deep hazel eyes stared right through her, as if they could read her soul. “There’s more to you than that, Victoria.”

  She shook her head, huffing out a breath at the same time. “No…there’s not. That’s my life. Would you please stop calling me Victoria?”

  “Why?” He drew out the one word with his strong southern drawl, sending a shiver through her.

  “I just don’t like it.”

  Reece propped his elbow on the table and rested his chin on his fist, taking his time before continuing his line of questioning. “Because it makes you feel weak?”

  She didn’t answer, but he nodded, as though he sensed that he was correct.

  “You’re not weak, Victoria, and it is a beautiful name. Great queens have had the name Victoria. Do you think anyone thought they were weak?”

  She tried to say no, but her mouth was dry, so she just shook her head again.

  Reece reached across the table, and she jumped up from her chair. “Do you like wine? I forgot the wine.”

  He nodded.

  “Can I trust you for thirty seconds? You won’t get far if you try to escape, so there’s no sense in trying.”

  Reece nodded again.

  “Red okay? Merlot?”

  He grinned. “You plannin’ on gettin’ me drunk and takin’ advantage of me?”

  “No…I just need a glass of wine. It’s been a long day.”

  Vic scooped up her silverware and backed out of the room, darting up the stairs.

  In the kitchen, she snatched the merlot she’d opened and a second bottle, along with two glasses. He could break the stem and use it as a weapon, but somehow, she knew that wasn’t going to happen.

  She launched out of the kitchen and ran smack into a wall, a living and breathing wall, that is—Michael. “Oh! What the…how did you get back so quickly?”

  “When you’re driving close to a hundred and sixty with your lights off, it’s amazing how fast you can get somewhere.” Michael stared down at the wine bottle and stemware clasped in her hands and then glanced at the unlocked door to the cellar. “Obviously I wasn’t quick enough, though. What if he’s playing you, Vic?” He shook his head. “If he is, our way of life is over. Just don’t be stupid!” He turned and opened the door.

  She started toward him. “It’s not what you think—” He slammed the door in her face. Vic wanted to chase him, but the door to the cellar was unlocked. She couldn’t leave Reece and chase after Michael, and he
knew that. Is that what he wanted? Did he want Reece to escape, so he could hunt him down?

  She set down the bottles and wineglasses, locked the top door to the cellar, and then charged after her best friend.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “Michael!” Vic shouted over the roar of his Dodge Charger. “Stop! Please! It’s not what you think.”

  He peeled out of the gravel driveway, leaving her standing on the porch and a dust storm in his wake.

  Vic slumped onto the top step and dropped her head into her hands.

  What a mess!

  If only she had a mother to call…or a sister…heck, even a girlfriend would suffice. But she didn’t. All she had were men in her life. Her father, her brother, Derrick, Michael…Reece. She needed to talk to a woman.

  She reached into her back pocket and pulled out her phone. Clicking through her contact list, she stopped on the only woman she could think of. It would be a strange request, but she didn’t know anyone else to call. She hated that she wanted to ask a human woman for advice, but she didn’t have a choice. She clicked on the name and waited.

  “Hi, Vic. What a lovely surprise.”

  Vic actually felt tears spring to her eyes. Sabrina should have been her mother-in-law, not Kristina’s. “Hi, Sabrina. I don’t suppose you have a moment to talk, do you? Unless it’s awkward to talk to me.”

  “Don’t be silly, Vic. You’ll always be our family.”

  Well, if she and Michael ever ended up together, Sabrina could still be her mother-in-law, she realized. Was that another reason she wanted this…to have a mother for once? Her mother had died in a wreck so long ago that she barely even remembered her. Although it was rare, because they were so strong, creatus could die from injuries. Contrary to the myths, creatus weren’t immortal. Her mother’s death had nearly killed her father too; most creatus didn’t go on after their partner died, but because she and Eric were so young, he had to go on living.

  “Thank you, Sabrina. You’re the only person I could think of to call.”