Creatus Series Boxed Set

by Carmen DeSousa

  She glanced at the clock on the dash; it was already past eight. Michael would be upset. She’d planned to stop by her place to pick up something nice to wear, as he’d requested, but then she’d really be late.

  When she got to the apartment, he wasn’t there, but he’d asked her to meet him on the roof, so she rushed a shower and then scrambled to the guest room with only a towel wrapped around her.

  The nicest thing she’d brought from her apartment was a pair of black pants and a sheer gray rayon blouse. She slipped a black camisole over a black bra, and then looked at herself in the full-length mirror. Elegant, but tasteful. It’d work. At least she wouldn’t be teasing him.

  She ran back into the one bathroom they shared and pulled out the drawer he’d loaned her. He was so good to her; she hated breaking his heart. But Michael was resilient, and he certainly wouldn’t have trouble finding a new woman. He’d have a new woman as soon as he shifted his sights. Probably Rebecca. As much as that stung, she had no right to give him a difficult time.

  Ignoring that thought, she grabbed her jacket and headed to the stairwell.

  As soon as she pushed open the steel door leading to the rooftop, the scent of fresh salmon made her mouth water. She’d been so busy she’d forgotten to eat today.

  A table set for two sat at the edge of the rooftop. A white tablecloth fell to the floor, just reaching a royal red carpet that clearly didn’t belong on the roof. Silver lids covered two plates across from each other. Behind the place settings, a vase of pink roses acted as a centerpiece.

  Flickering candles, hundreds of them, decorated the table and the surrounding wall. The flames illuminated the area, making the shadows of normally unattractive poles, pipes, and power lines shimmer and dance before her eyes. There was one thing missing from the romantic dinner for two, though, the second person. Michael wasn’t here.

  “Michael,” she whispered. “I’m sorry I’m late.” She walked to the wall overlooking the city. She focused on the few pedestrians at street level, then on the surrounding rooftops. A shadow caught her eye on the roof of a building below, but disappeared before she could discern if it was a person. “Michael,” she tried again, gazing down at each rooftop. If he’d gone back to his apartment, she would have passed him on the stairs.

  She waited a few minutes, peeping at the food beneath the silver covers, running her fingers over the soft pink petals. She was so hungry, but it’d be rude to eat without him, since she was the one who was late. He certainly planned to come back. Even if he’d been upset with her, he wouldn’t have left everything up here.

  A piercing scream sliced through the peaceful night. Vic searched the street again, looking for the source. Without thinking, she pulled off her sheer blouse and leapt to the building where she’d seen the shadow. From there, the street was only a few stories below her, but she couldn’t take the chance. She slid down the bars of the fire escape, though, watching before she moved to each lower level.

  Once on the street, she ran just above human speed toward the scream she’d heard. A man dressed in a suit and tie lifted a woman off the ground.

  “Up there,” she screamed. “He…flew. He tried to stab me, but then he just…jumped. And someone…chased… I don’t know. My head.”

  Vic scanned the woman for injuries. She was fine, just in shock. She skirted the building and then went up another fire escape. Before she reached the top, a crack reached her ears. She still had three floors. Climbing wasn’t fast enough. Not caring, she leapt onto the roof, just as another shadow disappeared over the wall again.

  Her eyes fell on two more bodies, though. One lying on the gravel, another leaning over the body, checking his pulse. Reece.

  He glanced up, shook his head, and then took off toward the wall. He looked below, then bounded over the side of the building.

  Vic stooped over the man, confirming Reece’s assessment. The man’s neck had been snapped; there was no use in checking for a pulse.

  She darted after Reece, but she had to be careful. She couldn’t allow a human to see her again. Reece had been wearing dark clothes and a hoodie. She didn’t have anything to hide her face. Vic raced to the fire escape again and rounded the building, but by the time she got to where Reece had landed, he was gone.

  Not knowing what else to do, Vic started back toward Michael’s. She couldn’t do anything for the man, and the woman was okay. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and texted Michael: Where are you?

  The text came back within seconds. Waiting for you. Where are you?

  Vic frowned at the phone. If Michael had been the shadow, could he have gotten away from Reece that quickly and circled back around to his building? No. She couldn’t believe it; Michael wouldn’t kill an innocent human. Was Reece correct, though? Had her kiss with him set off this attack? Or had Michael’s romantic dinner? Or had the fact that she was late for dinner caused this reaction?

  Vic entered Michael’s building through the lobby and took the stairs to the roof. No sense in getting caught when she wasn’t trying to save someone’s life.

  This time when she walked out onto the roof, soft sounds of jazz music filled the air. Michael sat on the edge of the building, holding her gray blouse in his lap. The moment he saw her, he quickly stood and walked toward her. He was dressed in dark jeans and a black jacquard long-sleeved shirt. Not watching apparel, but not bright clothes either. He could have been the shadow. No…she shook her head. She couldn’t believe it—wouldn’t believe it.

  “What’s wrong?” He approached her and then dipped his head to look at her. “You’re flushed. Are you okay?”

  Ignoring him, she walked over to the table. She downed a glass of wine and then turned on him. “Where were you?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “You already asked me that. I was here, but you weren’t. I went to the garage to make sure you hadn’t left the building. When I saw that your car was here, I assumed we crossed paths, so I grabbed the bottle of wine I’d forgotten and came back up, but you still weren’t here. I was starting to get worried, wondering why you’d left your blouse. Concerned you might get cold…” He smiled.

  Vic closed her eyes and exhaled a deep breath. If he’d walked past his floor to the garage while she was inside his apartment, that could explain why they hadn’t passed each other on the stairs. At least she hoped that’s what had really happened.

  “The rogue just killed a man.” She pointed to the building she’d just come from, the one that was now illuminated by red and blue lights from the police cars on the street below.

  Michael cocked his head. “What are you talking about?”

  “I was here, Michael, but you weren’t. I saw a shadow on the building beside yours. I assumed I was imagining things, but then I heard a scream, so I went down. A woman who’d just been attacked said that someone had chased the attacker. When I got to that roof,” she nodded toward the roof now filled with beams of white lights, “Reece was there. He found the man. Now he is—or was—chasing the rogue.”

  “Reece was chasing the rogue? All this happened in the few minutes I left?”

  “Apparently.” She hoped he’d actually left. How could she even think that Michael. “I have to go…I can’t think.”

  “But I…” He dropped his head. “I understand.”

  Of course, he understood. He always understood. She glanced up at him. “Reece has a theory. Like Derrick, he thinks that the rogue hasn’t actually been killing humans, except for three of them—now four. Those four were murdered after I…kissed Reece.” Almost imperceptibly, Michael flinched. That didn’t mean anything. He’d made it clear that he didn’t trust Reece, and he certainly didn’t want to know that she’d been kissing another man. “He thinks that Jonas or Ry is so infatuated with me that he’s taking out his frustration on humans.”

  Michael huffed out a breath. “And he suspects me as well, I take it, the reason you demanded to know where I was.”

  Unable to speak, she nodded.

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nbsp; “Victoria,” he closed the distance between them, “you don’t believe that, do you? You don’t think I’m capable of—” He stopped within a foot of her. “You do…”

  “No…no, Michael. I know that you hate humans, but I know you’re not a murderer.”

  “I saw it in your eyes when I came close to you.” He shook his head. “Victoria, I’ve loved you my entire life. I’ve never wanted a woman other than you. But you…” He tossed her blouse to her and strode past her.

  “Michael, I’m so sorry. I’m just confused.”

  He waved her off. “I know. I have to go.”

  As much as she wanted to chase him, she couldn’t. She’d made that mistake once before. If she had let Jonas walk away from her that first night, maybe this wouldn’t be happening. The idea that he or anyone she knew could be killing humans because of her… It just didn’t make sense.

  Instead of following Michael down to his apartment, she walked around the roof, blowing out each individual candle. She wasn’t hungry anymore, so she bundled up everything in the tablecloth and carried it back to Michael’s apartment.

  He’d obviously left, as the loft was cold and quiet when she returned. She spent the next twenty minutes packing up her clothes and toiletries. Derrick could complain all he wanted. The rogue wasn’t after her; he was after innocent humans. And if he did approach her, good.

  She’d make the culprit suffer for the innocent lives he’d taken—and for the anguish he’d caused her.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Reece stopped and listened, using his skills to track the rogue, but it was no use. After the rogue snapped the man’s neck, he’d bounded over the side of the building. If he’d chased him then, instead of checking what he already knew—that the man was dead—he would have caught him, but he couldn’t leave the man if there were any chance that he was alive.

  Then Victoria had shown up, so he knew that was his chance. It was too late, though; Reece had given the man too much of a head start.

  Well, he’d learned one thing. The rogue was a male, or at least he had the body of a male. Even through the pants and top Victoria wore, Reece could see her curves. He’d also verified that Victoria wasn’t the rogue either. Not that he’d ever thought that, but she’d also been near every one of the murders, and he hadn’t been with her when they’d happened. She had motive to hate humans, though. He’d found the report of her mother’s death.

  Reece made his way back to the scene, hanging back from the crowd, but listening to the officers as they cordoned off the area…their frustrated comments about who was doing all these killings. Medics closed the woman inside an ambulance. She didn’t look hurt, but she’d complained numerous times about her head hurting, so they’d check for a concussion, and then Frank Cooper would get his moment with her, and then her head would really hurt.

  Cooper had a bad habit of making the victims feel like suspects. He seemed to think that people encouraged their attacks by being in the wrong place, flashing expensive jewelry. And as far as rape went, that was the woman’s fault too, for dressing provocatively.

  Too bad he refused to use that Ph.D. in psychology and realize that most rapes weren’t committed because of desire, but sexual violence.

  As the ambulance sped away, a face came into view. Frank Cooper just stared at Reece from across the street. He shook his head once and then walked toward his vehicle, speeding in the direction of the hospital.

  Would the rogue kill twice in one night, Reece wondered? He hadn’t had a chance to leave his calling card, so it was possible, but he doubted it.

  In most situations, Reece would want to interview the victim, but that wouldn’t help in this case. She’d only seen the human suspect, not the rogue who’d saved her, and that’s all Reece cared about at the moment.

  The faster he could take down Jonas, the quicker he could move on with his life. The strange thing was…Jonas didn’t seem crazy to him. A little misguided maybe, willing to use a corpse to start a war, he’d give him that too. But snapping a man’s neck without a second of hesitation…it just didn’t fit.

  Reece had only just climbed over the wall when the rogue looked up at him. He’d had the man in the air. As soon as he saw Reece, he’d dropped the man in front of him and had snapped his neck without even a thought, and then had leapt over the side of the building. If he hadn’t interrupted him, the man may have suffered the same death as the others: beaten to a pulp and then executed. And once again, the attack was within an hour of Victoria and him kissing in the parking garage.

  So, Reece had been correct. The rogue seemed to know most of their comings and goings and was more than likely following Victoria. Her lack of recognizing his affection and behaving sensually with another man seemed to be the trigger for his rage.

  As much as Reece didn’t like the idea, she’d probably gone back to Michael’s, so at least she was safe. It was only a matter of time before the rogue took what he wanted.

  What if she’d gone back to her place, though? Just to be sure, he headed toward Beacon Hill. Her apartment was only a little over a mile away, but now that he knew what he was capable of and how much fun it was, he took the rooftop route.

  Once he returned to street level, he smiled when he saw her car. Would she mind him coming up, he wondered?

  Not wanting to call from the street or break the lock, Reece waited until a man exited the brownstone, then darted for the door before it closed. He took the stairs to the top floor and then pulled in a breath before walking to her door. His heart pounded as though he were a sixteen-year-old adolescent picking up his first date.

  He rapped on the door and then stood back so she could see him through the peephole.

  Victoria swung open the door and then pulled him inside. “What are you doing here?”

  “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

  She shook her head. “I’m…I don’t know. I’m confused.”

  He nodded and then reached for her hand, pulling her toward the loveseat. The apartment was small. The living area held nothing but a loveseat and a chair opposite each other and a small TV on a stand with a Bose system beside it. Obviously, music was more important to her than TV. The kitchen and eating area were on the opposite side of the room, and that was it. A small hall led to two doors, a bathroom and a bedroom, he suspected. The place was tiny, but it was clean and modern looking. From his research, he’d discovered that she rented the place three years ago, probably because it was a penthouse with a private patio on the roof.

  Brushing the hair back from her face, he held his hand against her cheek. As earlier, she leaned into his palm. The sweet, exposed reaction warmed his insides. “Why are you confused?”

  “You have to ask, Reece? Someone—more than likely someone I’ve known since I was a child—is murdering people.”

  “It’s not your fault, though.”

  “But I—”

  “Shh…” He scooped her up in his arms. “You’re exhausted. It looks as though you haven’t slept in days.” He walked off toward the rooms he’d seen in the back, and she didn’t dispute his comments or tell him no, so he continued.

  The door was open a crack, so he pushed through and carried her to her bed. Using one hand, he pulled back the white down comforter and set her down softly with one kiss to her forehead, then turned to leave.

  “Reece,” she whispered, “Please stay.”

  He nodded. “I will. I’ll stay on the couch.”

  Victoria scooted toward the opposite side of the bed, her heart speeding up as she gazed up at him. “No…stay with me.”

  Reece shut the door and locked it—an extra lock never hurt—and walked back to her. He lay down beside her, and she moved into his arms, resting her head on his chest. Electricity sparked beneath his skin as she ran her fingers down his arm.

  “Do you mind staying the night?”

  “No.”

  “Even if we don’t have sex?” she mumbled against his chest.


  He pressed his lips to the top of her head, breathing in her scent, certain he’d be able to track her anywhere now. “I don’t want to make love to you yet, Victoria.”

  She peered up at him, a crinkle between her eyes.

  “Umm…wait. I said I’d never lie to you.” He pulled her up so that her face was inches from his. “Of course I want to make love to you, but it’s not the right time. You’re not in the right frame of mind, and I’d rather know that I don’t have to get up and leave the next day.” He frowned at her. “But you know…it really sucks that I can’t even kiss you without worrying about some physical connection that will turn us into mush and I won’t be able to function.”

  She laughed. “You really are funny, Reece. I think that’s why I—” She dropped her head against his chest again, her words disappearing into his cotton shirt. “I like you so much.”

  Reece nudged up her chin. “Victoria, withholding the truth is a lie, you know. Tell me what you really wanted to say.”

  She gulped and shook her head.

  “If you don’t tell me what you were going to say, I might have to hold you down and kiss it out of you, and then you’ll be my sex slave forever.” He flipped her onto her back and hovered over top of her.

  “That’s not much of a threat.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “I might just like that.”

  “Tell me,” he demanded softly, pressing his body into hers.

  Victoria smiled. “You know…this position didn’t work so well the first time you tried it.”

  He grinned. “Only because someone pulled me off…” He refused to say his name, giving her a moment to think about anyone other than him right now. “If you had stayed…”

  She crinkled her nose. “You think you’re irresistible to the ladies?”

  “No…just you. I see it in your eyes.” His heart pounded faster as he lowered his mouth to hers, hoping she wouldn’t stop him this time. He wanted to feel the fire he’d felt. He wanted to let the powerful rush flow through his veins. He didn’t care that they were at the onset of a war; he wanted her.