Frank glared at the butch and then stormed out of the interview room. Will Grooms had been beaten and then thrown over the side of a building. Cooper didn’t have a problem with that. One less thug on the street. What bothered him was the ‘C’ drawn on his chest with his own blood. The ‘C’ that looked exactly like the image of the wax seal he’d sent to Reece Buckley a few weeks ago.
The string of murders had little in common other than the fact that each of the victims’ limbs had been torn off, but then the last attacks had an old-fashioned blood-red wax seal with a ‘C’ stamped in the middle.
The first seal had been on the head of Beth, Kristina Ashton’s best friend, the only victim who hadn’t died. But now, this punk had been beaten to a pulp, and a finger-painted rendition of the waxed seal had been drawn on his chest, but his limbs were still attached.
In most situations, he would immediately assume copycat, but the seal wasn’t public information. Boston PD had kept that info under wraps.
Detective Mills, a slight, still wet-behind-the ears detective he’d met an hour before approached him outside the interview room. “You wanted to see the body, Agent Cooper?”
“Thank you, son. Yes, I would,” Frank answered politely.
The kid was a tool, but obviously hoped he could get a leg-up by rubbing elbows with a Fed. It wasn’t the first time Frank had met his type. He knew how to use it to his advantage, though. He’d compliment him on his work, ask if he’d ever considered working as a federal agent. Of course, no one was ever privy to his real position within the government. They just knew he worked for the National Security Council. It didn’t matter; he could always find one patsy who would give him all the information he needed when others like officer butchy were uncooperative.
Frank followed the young pup to the morgue, only half-listening as he prattled on about his future career interests.
Mills continued to ramble on until he used his security badge and code to unlock the door to the morgue. “The M.E. hasn’t done an autopsy yet, but…” The green detective shook his head, obviously not accustomed to the worst of the worst society had to offer, probably got on the force because his father or uncle had worked here.
Frank followed the kid into the frigid room and waited while he unzipped the black body bag. If the deceased hadn’t had his wallet on him, he doubted they would have been able to get a positive I.D. without ordering dental records or fingerprints.
Between the massive bruising, collapsed skull, crushed nose, and swelling, the man’s face looked like the inside of a tomato. The body wasn’t any better. It appeared every rib had been broken and his hands and ankles were twisted in unnatural positions. Some of which could have happened during the fall, but the majority of the wounds had been inflicted.
Frank searched for signs of blunt force from a butt of a gun, a crowbar, pipe wrench, but none of the marks looked familiar. What had someone used on Will to break every rib in his body, but left no identifying marks? Frank could only think of one thing, a fist. A fist from someone or something that was able to propel a man out of sight in seconds. Someone or something that could jump off a hundred and thirty-five foot bridge and be up on shore within seconds perhaps. But Derrick Ashton had been in his apartment all evening, according to the cop he’d stationed out front.
Didn’t matter. Somehow, Doctor Ashton was involved. He’d been searching for decades, but Frank Cooper was pretty sure he’d found his missing link—or rather, links. Clearly, whatever the good doctor was, there were more of them.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Vic awoke to a pounding headache. She’d only had three glasses of wine, so it couldn’t be a hangover. The throbbing in her temples probably had more to do with lack of sleep.
Reece Buckley, she couldn’t get him out of her head all night.
Why hadn’t there been any files in his briefcase? If he worked for the Feds, why weren’t they beating down the walls? Why send only one guy?
Her phone vibrated across the nightstand. She picked it up and just stared at the name. She had no desire to talk to Derrick. She had no desire to talk to any man. But, she supposed she’d better check on her prisoner.
Sliding out of bed, she grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt she’d thrown over the back of a chair last night; she’d only worn them for a few minutes after her bath. No reason she shouldn’t be comfortable. For that matter, there was no reason she couldn’t pretend that she was at her no-men-allowed spa; she’d needed a vacation for a while anyway. She didn’t have to sit with Reece all day. She could lounge around outside, soak up a little of the springtime sunshine.
Just to be safe, she grabbed the capped syringe and stuffed it into the waistband of her sweats. Although she didn’t want to call back Derrick, she snatched her phone off the table. She descended the stairs quietly, hoping to catch Reece off guard. Unfortunately, there was no discreet way to unlock the door. No matter how stealthily she attempted to sneak up on him, he’d hear. She’d just have to stay prepared.
Once unlatched, she edged open the door, peeking through the two-inch gap. Reece was shirtless on the floor, his back glistening with sweat. He pushed himself off the wood slats and was on his feet in a second as though he were standing at attention.
The sweats they’d loaned him—Derrick’s, since he was the same height—sat low on his hips, revealing a finely tuned upper body and a thin line of barely visible golden hair disappearing into the waistband.
The moisture on his tanned skin shimmered beneath the overhead track lights, highlighting every muscle on his well-sculpted chest. And she couldn’t help but follow the dew as it descended to his abs that looked as though a sculptor had carved them out of bronze. God, why did he have to look so good?
Reece wiped his brow with a hand towel. “Good morning, Princess Victoria.”
Coming to, Vic shook her head. “Just when I thought we might be able to have a normal conversation over breakfast.” She backed out from where she entered, shut and locked the door, and went upstairs to eat breakfast—alone.
Today, she would start her vacation, as much as a vacation as it could be with Reece downstairs.
From the fridge, she pulled out a pitcher of sun tea, non-pasteurized goat cheese, and fresh fruit. She layered the fruit in rows at the edge of one side of a square white plate and then dropped a dollop of goat cheese in the center. Then she scooped up a handful of raw crackers, which were really just a concoction of ground flax seed and other seeds mixed with some dry herbs and dehydrated. As long as the temperature didn’t exceed 120 degrees Fahrenheit, the grains weren’t poisonous to creatus. Anything above that she’d get deathly ill, if not die from the toxins produced when meats and grains are heated. Why creatus couldn’t eat cooked foods, but humans could, made little sense, since their bodies seemed to be similar in most other areas. Except strength, of course. Creatus were, at minimal, ten times stronger than an average human male. And an even stranger occurrence, though, was why Derrick and Michael, half-human half-creatus, were twice as strong as the strongest creatus.
And Reece…what were his secrets? If he’d had half-human, half-creatus ancestors, how long down the family chain would he be just as strong as a creatus? Was there a half-life…ten generations? He’d never really fought her, she realized. What if he did? What if he decided to stop playing games? Would he be dangerous?
Waving off her thoughts, she carried her spa-worthy breakfast to the stone patio. Reece was behind two steel and concreted doors with battle-tested padlocks attached.
As soon as Vic pushed open the door, a blast of cool fresh air whipped through the kitchen, causing the utensils hanging from the rack to serve as a makeshift wind chime. She breathed in the fragrant spring air and smiled.
Settling down in a lounge chair, she gazed out at the view. At the furthest end of the property, behind the wall, were tufts of evergreens. Jagged rows of conifer and cedar trees with soft rolling bluish-gray hills rising behind them as far as the eye could see, provided a year-rou
nd backdrop.
What she really loved, though, were the lilacs. She inhaled again, breathing in the sweet magical fragrance. Not only was the scent relaxing, the multitude of colors of white, lavender, magenta, to deep purple were pleasing to the eyes.
Vic scooped up the goat cheese with a cracker and let it melt on her tongue, then followed it up with a juicy red grape.
She glanced toward the heavens, at the perfect shade of periwinkle. The cloudless sky allowed the sun to add just enough warmth to the perfect sixty-degree morning. She closed her eyes and listened to the birdsong, and for just a second, forgot about all her concerns.
Her phone buzzed on the glass table, and she glared at it as if it were a rodent—annoying. She snatched it off the table, glowered at the number, and then switched it to silent mode. She had no desire to speak to Derrick or any man right now. She was going to enjoy her spa day, and no one, human, creatus, or anywhere in between was going to ruin it for her.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Derrick slammed the phone on his desk. “Why isn’t she answering?” He glared at his brother across from him. “Did you go back there? If it’s possible, did you make her even angrier at us?”
Michael shrugged. “I should go check on her. She was getting awfully chummy with Reece. What if he hurt her? Or escaped?”
Derrick shook his head. “Reece didn’t hurt her. And if he did and managed to escape, the Feds would have already been here.”
His brother bounced his head as though digesting that thought. “She doesn’t know the rogue is back. What if he goes after her?”
Derrick noticed that his brother still referred to the culprit as ‘the rogue’, distancing himself from the idea that his lifelong friend could do something like this. “Again…I don’t think Jonas would hurt her either. Even if I don’t like Jonas, I know he’s crazy about Victoria. We all are. It’s hard not to love a beautiful tomboy who works so hard to keep up with all the men surrounding her. Poor woman doesn’t even have a mother or sister to hang out with.”
“Kristina and Vic aren’t BFFs yet?” Michael asked with a grin.
“Uh…no. Kristina is actually afraid of her, still believes she might try to hurt her like that first day when Vic nearly attacked her. That’s not something humans get over quickly. I guess it wouldn’t be much different from a pet lion attacking you once. You know he can kill you; it’s just a matter of wanting to.”
“So Kristina thinks we’re animals?” Mike growled.
“Get over yourself, Mike. That’s my analogy, not Kristina’s. If she thought we were animals, would she have married me? Would she have thrown herself off a bridge to get my attention? She’s always known I was different, and it has never bothered her.” Derrick stood, and though he wanted to reach over the desk and grab his brother by the scruff of his neck, he remained calm and glared down at him. “Matter of fact, you are the only one in this family with a problem. Yeah…Vic’s upset because I didn’t fall for her. But she doesn’t go around telling my wife she hates her species in her own home. Kristina cried over that rude comment last night. It kills her that she feels like an outcast.” Not finished, but knowing every creatus in the hospital heard his tirade, Derrick collapsed back in his chair. “Can we get back to the issue here, please?” he said in a softer voice.
Michael didn’t try to defend himself; he just nodded. He knew that it wasn’t the time or place; they had issues that were more pressing at the moment. No, he didn’t think Jonas would hurt Victoria, but he was positive he’d try to track her down, and he wasn’t sure what extent he would go to get her attention and try to convince her to start a new family.
“That attack was vicious,” Derrick continued. “I’m not saying the loser didn’t deserve it, but that beating dripped of pure hatred.” He flipped through the file of the murders. “You know what strikes me as odd…” Derrick trailed off, not really expecting an answer. “This is the first murder that looks as though a creatus had beaten up the victim.”
Mike furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?”
“Did you read the autopsy reports?”
“No. Rebecca just gave it to me this morning. I brought it right to you.”
Derrick gnawed on his bottom lip as he thought about the reports. “Take it and read it. I don’t want to put any suggestions into your head. Just pay attention to the actual cause of death.”
“And Victoria? What should we do about her? She might not be safe…shouldn’t I drive out there?”
Derrick shook his head again. “No. Victoria is fine. I’ll keep calling. She’ll eventually answer; she’s just mad right now. And if I know Vic, she’s probably enjoying some time away from all of us. Her freezing up when Dad needed her to help with your surgery hit her hard. She’s dealing with a lot right now. Questioning being a doctor, questioning her feelings.”
Michael glared at him. He raised his shoulders as he pulled in a breath, but then heaved it out in one gust. “It’s not fair.”
Derrick resisted laughing at his forty-four-year-old brother who sounded like a ten year old. “Didn’t anyone tell you, Mike? Life isn’t fair.” Derrick stood and walked around his desk. He patted his younger, but bigger brother on the back. “You’ll get your chance, bro. She just needs a few days to digest everything that’s going on in her life. If you are meant to be, it’ll happen.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The clouds must have rolled in, because even behind her shuttered eyelids, Vic could see the morning had darkened, and the temperature felt as though it’d dropped ten degrees.
She contemplated getting a blanket, but it felt too good lying here.
A slight change in the breeze, though, had her dart up from her slumber. The black silhouette in front of her wasn’t a cloud.
“Jonas?” Her eyes flicked around the patio, searching for a weapon; she’d left the syringe on the kitchen counter.
His expression unreadable, Jonas lowered himself to the end of the chaise. “Hi, Victoria.”
“What…what are you doing here?” She hated that her voice had cracked, that a chill had settled over her body. She resisted rubbing her arms for fear that he’d think she was afraid of him.
He flashed his trademark cocky smile, the one that inched up on one side, the one that she used to find endearing until she realized it was a tick of his when he wasn’t happy, only faking it. “Is that any way to greet the man you shared a wild passionate night with?”
“Jonas…” Her words came out as a whisper.
“Yes…I remember you saying my name.”
Irritated, she sat up straighter, pulling her feet back and resting them on the floor so she could run if need be. “It’s never going to happen, Jonas.”
“So, as I thought the first night, you just used me to get over Derrick.”
If only that were possible, she thought. “Give me a break. I didn’t use you. I gave you what you wanted, what all men want. You don’t care about me.”
It wasn’t completely true; she hadn’t used him, but she had been trying to get over Derrick, hoping she’d fall for Jonas. Jonas had been the only man she’d ever slept with other than Derrick. She’d always liked him, and out of her choices of local eligible creatus men, Michael, Jonas, or his brother, Ryan, Jonas just seemed like the logical choice.
She and Michael had always been close, literally best friends, and it had seemed strange at first even to consider him after she and Derrick were over. From the moment Jonas had moved away, Ryan had always dropped subtle hints, but she’d been trying to make it work with Derrick. So when it was over with Derrick and her, and then Jonas came back into town…well, one thing had led to another. What started out as playful banter turned into kissing, and the next thing she knew, she’d invited him back to her apartment.
But it hadn’t happened. Just as Sabrina had said…she’d tried to force it. And like love, falling couldn’t be forced.
He moved closer and rested his hand on her knee. “That’s not true, Victoria. I
’ve loved you since high school.”
“Stop calling me Victoria!” she screamed, jumping up from the chair. “All you men think I’m yours, something to possess, and you’re all confusing the hell out of me.”
Jonas bolted right up beside her, grabbing her shoulders. He was tall, lean, and too strong. She remembered that power, and she remembered his anger the next morning when he told her how his mother had killed his human father when he threatened to turn them in. His eyes had looked deadly. Sad, but lethal.
He squeezed the tops of her arms. “I’m not trying to confuse you, but you started this. I was leaving that night. You stopped me.”
She wriggled beneath his grip, but he didn’t release her. “Like you men don’t have one-night stands. Why is it okay for you, but not okay for a woman?”
He clenched his jaw and spoke through gritted teeth. “We were not a one-night stand. And I don’t make a habit of sleeping with women. That’s your precious Michael.” He raised his eyebrows when she flinched. “Yeah…I’ve been watching the two of you.”
“Let me go, Jonas,” Vic said.
“Never.”
Vic gulped and felt her stomach tighten. She couldn’t fight Jonas and win. She could do some damage, but she’d only be able to fend off his attack for so long if he chose to fight her.
“Victoria!” Reece screamed from the basement, and this time Jonas flinched.
“Is this what you want to do? Babysit?” Jonas sneered. “Come with me. Several families have already joined us; they understand what we’re trying to accomplish.”
“I’m not interested in your war against humans.”
Jonas glared at her. “You hate them as much as I do. I know you do.”
“No, I don’t. You, Ry, and Michael hate them. I just want to be left alone.”
He pulled her closer, staring down at her. “Not happening—Vic!” he snapped her name. “You’re coming with me.”
Creatus Series Boxed Set Page 36
