Creatus (Creatus Series)

by Carmen DeSousa

  Taking one long look at herself in the mirror, she drew in a deep breath, steeling herself. Would he agree, she wondered. He seemed attracted to her. He’d called her beautiful after all.

  Determined, she marched out of her bedroom, but then stopped when she entered the living area. He was holding up a picture of her mother and her, taken a few months before she was murdered. Her mother had taken her to see Santa Claus and then they’d jumped in one of those photo booths. They’d taken silly and serious photos. Kris had enlarged and framed the serious one.

  “She was beautiful, wasn’t she?”

  Derrick turned in her direction, his expression surprisingly solemn, and if she wasn’t mistaken, his eyes looked glassy. “Yes. Very.” He set the frame on the window ledge and crossed the room, taking her hand in his. He led her to the couch, pulling her down beside him. “Kristina,” he paused as he lifted his hand to her neck, “I can’t introduce you to my family today.”

  “Why not?” she demanded, attempting to put power behind her question, but a trace of defeat filled her tone and she was certain he’d recognize it. She’d assumed since she had to choose as he’d said, that they’d want to meet her. “You said your brother moved my car, so he obviously already knows about me,” she continued before he could answer, adding validity to her petition.

  “Listen to me, please. I’m different. My family’s different.” He shook his head. “We need to make sure—”

  “Derrick,” she moved his hand to her lap, “I am sure.”

  “But you don’t even know me. You—”

  “I jumped off a bridge to get your attention,” she interjected. “Do you think I would do that if I wanted anyone else?”

  “You were sick. Under the influence of—”

  “I knew what I was doing—” she tried, but this time he cut her off by placing his fingers over her lips.

  The edges of his mouth quirked up, but she could tell he tried to resist smiling. “Please stop interrupting me. I was wrong,” he said. “I guess you do like to talk.” He raised his hand when she started to interrupt again. “Kristina, you heard me. They’ll kill you if you ever try to leave. Let’s just take a few days, get to know each other. And if…” he lowered his head to look into her eyes, “if you decide to be with me, then yes, I would love for you to meet my family.” He stopped as if it were okay for her to speak again.

  “But your brother knows…” she said, undeterred by his suggestion that his family was dangerous. She just couldn’t imagine that anyone related to him would harm her.

  “Well, he’s my brother. He’s allowing us time. But he wouldn’t hesitate…” he trailed off, not wanting to say that his brother would be willing to kill her, she assumed.

  Kris’ heartbeat kicked up a notch, wondering what was so secretive. “So tell me then, and I’ll decide.”

  He pursed his lips, obviously determined to keep her in the dark as long as possible. “No. But I’m glad you finally believe I’m real. I wasn’t sure how I was going to prove my existence to you, but I had an idea.”

  A thrill shot through her system, watching the way his eyes melted into hers, the ever-slight tilt of his head. Her heart thrummed beneath her ribcage as she realized he’d had the same idea she had. She licked her lips, letting out a soft sigh in anticipation. Her Dark Angel was going to kiss her.

  Derrick glided his fingers along her jawline as he inched his head closer. “I’ve wanted—”

  She bolted upright as her cell phone rang. “Oh, God!” She threw her hand over her chest and peered down at the caller ID. “Beth,” she whooshed out her friend’s name, not certain why she’d jumped.

  “You need to take her call,” he said softly.

  Kris shook her head wildly, refusing to break the moment, even though it was already lost. Derrick picked up her phone off the coffee table and hit ‘answer’ before she could object again.

  Beth’s voice immediately came over the speaker in a frantic rush. “Kris? Oh, dear Lord, are you there, Kris?”

  Kris lifted the phone to her ear. “I’m here.”

  “You scared the death out of me. You left me that message and then wouldn’t answer my calls. I thought… I thought you’d…” Obviously, Beth couldn’t form the words.

  “I was leaving town,” Kris lied. “It was a spur-of-the-moment thing, and I didn’t want you to change my mind. And then I sort of just hid. Cleaned up my act, you know?”

  “Oh, thank goodness, Kris. I just… I didn’t know what to think. So, you’re not leaving then, right? You’ll still be my maid of honor?”

  She couldn’t help but laugh at her friend’s question. If she didn’t love Beth so much, she’d think the only reason she was upset was because she’d have to find another size three to fit in the dress Beth had custom made to fit Kris. “Yes. Of course. What are best friends for?”

  “Okay, then. I have to go. My mom’s here. We’re going wedding shopping today. I’ll call you later, okay?” Her okay sounded like a question of whether Kris would really be around or not.

  “Yes,” Kris assured her. “But if I don’t answer, it’s just because I’m busy.” She looked up at Derrick who hadn’t moved from in front of her. Her heart started pounding double time as soon as he smiled. “Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere. Bye, Beth.” Kris hung up the phone and switched off the ringer. She didn’t want any more interruptions.

  Derrick reached for the phone and set it on the end table behind her. The heat of his body caressed hers as he moved past her. Instead of pulling away, he trailed his hand down her back, wrapping his arm around her waist. “No matter what happens, I’d hate myself if I never kissed you.”

  Kris licked her lips again. The anticipation was killing her. Most guys were so sloppy and quick, almost falling forward, missing her mouth. But Derrick seemed to be measuring his moves, planning his approach. His other hand moved behind her neck. And with both hands, he pulled her closer as he moved in again. His eyes held hers as his lips brushed against hers ever so softly. Then he kissed her tenderly on the corner of her mouth, and once again, sweeping his lips back over hers, delicately kissed the other side of her mouth. Her mouth fell open a fraction in submission, as if he’d coaxed her to open up. He drew her toward him and this time encompassed her completely, his mouth closing over hers. He took her top lip, then her bottom, venturing inside and exploring. Her entire body felt weightless as if under a spell by just his kiss.

  For some reason, she had to break the spell. As good as it was, she felt possessed. “Derrick,” she spoke his name under his warm and moist lips. Not wanting to stop, but wanting to maintain control.

  “Yes,” he asked, his kisses trailing across her cheekbones.

  Her mind almost felt free from his enchantment. Though, somehow, she knew she’d never be free. She’d always been his. “What took you so long?”

  “I’m here now.” Capturing her mouth once again, he kissed her deeply with a passion she’d never felt.

  Not that she’d dated much, but even the few boyfriends she had hadn’t made her skin heat, her heart pulse, and her soul long to be possessed. Sexual activity had always been about power with her. About what she could obtain. For the first time in her life, she wanted to give. And she didn’t even know him. Yes she did, she refuted herself. He was her Dark Angel, and in some ways, she had a feeling he understood her better than anyone ever had.

  Derrick released his hold and Kris wilted against the arm of the couch. “Okay. I believe you. You’re obviously real.”

  He laughed. “As are you. Funny. Beautiful. Real. I want to add more, but I don’t want you to think I’m a sap.”

  She sighed as she met his warm gaze. She didn’t need a week; heck, she didn’t need a day to decide. She’d been waiting her entire life for him, but she’d play his game she decided. “I don’t think you’re a sap.”

  “Good! So… what do you want to do today?” He’d sat up and changed the subject as if flipping a switch.

 
Had he not felt the same passion she had? she wondered. Evidently he’d been accustomed to the same kisses that had left her breathless. For some reason, this tidbit annoyed her, wondering what woman he’d been practicing with.

  “Hmm… I don’t know.” She leaned against the arm of the sofa, attempting to convey the same relaxed, carefree attitude. “Whatever.”

  He tilted his head a fraction as though dumbfounded by her attitude that mimicked his. “How about we go to Quincy’s Market, stroll through downtown Boston, maybe the Aquarium?”

  “Sounds like fun,” she offered in the most casual manner she could muster. Despite her irritation, it really did. She liked those types of days. Most guys suggested dinner and a movie. Boring. When a man proposed the movies on their first date—especially a chick-flick—it was usually their last.

  Still irritated their kiss hadn’t meant anything to him, she stood to leave.

  Derrick didn’t move an inch. Instead, he clutched her hand, directing her back down to the sofa. “After one more kiss, though. I don’t know how long it’ll be before I can kiss you again, so we’d better make this one last all day.” He pressed his lips against hers again, opening her and exploring as if he hadn’t just been there minutes ago. He slipped his hand around her neck and through her hair, a low groan emanating from his throat as he drew his lips away a few inches. “We’d better go,” he murmured, but his lips found hers again. “So long,” he said under light kisses. He lifted her from the couch, his mouth still working its magic.

  He finally pulled away and Kris was happy to see that even with his olive skin, Derrick looked a little flushed. That’s more like it, she thought. She couldn’t be the only one swept off her feet. That wouldn’t make for a good start of a relationship. A thrill soared through her body at the thought. Yes, she was decided; she wanted a relationship with Derrick. And she was positive nothing would change her mind.

  Chapter Five

  Derrick headed east, away from Somerville, to catch the highway into Boston. “You know…” He looked at Kristina as he waited at the light. “We could head over to Broadway.”

  She tilted her head. “Why? I like Downtown better than South Boston.”

  “Do you know what today is?”

  Kristina scrunched up her nose. “Yes...I’m not that out of it.”

  “I mean the date. It’s the seventeenth… St. Patrick’s Day. There’s a parade.”

  She laughed. “Oh… that’s okay. I did that last year. It was a strange collection. Other than the fact that there was a lot of green, I didn’t see how it had anything to do with St. Patrick’s Day. The funniest thing I saw was the Sith Lord—I think that’s what they’re called—and Darth Vader from Star Wars. What they had to do with St. Patty’s day is beyond me. Listening to him talk about ‘the force’ with a Boston accent cracked me up, though.”

  He pressed on the gas pedal as the light changed to green. “I guess that would.”

  “Hey… how come you don’t have an accent?” she inquired abruptly.

  “I didn’t grow up here,” he answered simply.

  “Where did you grow up?”

  He glanced at her, determining whether to answer. He could answer, he decided. He just couldn’t give her details. “England.”

  “Really?” She didn’t elaborate, so he hoped that would be the end of her query, but her ‘really’ hung out there as though she were thinking what to ask next. “So, why don’t you have an English accent, then?”

  Bingo. He’d presumed she wouldn’t leave it at that. Kristina was extremely inquisitive. “Umm… it’s a private school,” he offered as an explanation. “The professors… they’re all handpicked. They don’t have accents, so the students don’t have accents.”

  “In other words, it’s another secret you can’t share,” she retorted.

  “Yes.” He peeked at her and she was tilting her head, staring at him. Everything she did was endearing. “I’m sorry,” he offered, a pathetic apology, but it was for her safety. Everything he’d ever done was to keep her safe.

  “Let me ask you a question you can answer, Derrick. How am I supposed to get to know you if you won’t answer any questions about yourself?”

  He spurted out a half-laugh. “Fair question. How about we just enjoy this day? I’ll answer anything you want to ask tonight,” he rambled without thinking.

  “Okay,” she agreed, though hesitantly as if she didn’t believe him. Actually, he didn’t know why he’d just said that. He couldn’t tell her everything tonight.

  Their first stop was The Freedom Trail. Kristina listened in earnest as he spouted off his knowledge while they walked the 2.5-mile brick-lined route. Kristina, like him, was most interested in the Old North Church.

  With its 191-foot steeple, it’d played a major role during the American Revolution. “Have you ever heard the saying, One if by land, two if by sea?”

  Kristina nodded. “Vaguely. Something about a warning. Was that here?”

  He rested his hand on the small of her back as he ushered her inside. “Haven’t you been here before?”

  “Unbelievably, no. You would think growing up in Boston I would have. But it seems foster parents aren’t interested in that sort of stuff. And I haven’t been thinking about America’s history in the last few years, as I’ve been too caught up in mine.” She ran her hand over the intricate white wood of the pew, her eyes darting around, absorbing everything. “I like the white and black. Some churches have such gaudy colors. I like simple.”

  Derrick also loved the ancient architecture, the chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling. He especially appreciated that all the glass was clear, giving the church a light and airy feeling, instead of a dark and gloomy one, which never made sense to him. Why would a church want to convey a depressing image instead of life? After all, wasn’t that what churches communicated, life everlasting? “I noticed you like simple. Your apartment. It’s nice, comfortable.”

  “Yes. I always wanted to move someplace warm...” she trailed off, shaking her head as if changing her thoughts. “Remind me what ‘One if by land, two if by sea’ meant.”

  “It was a signal. The Sons of Liberty had devised a plan to warn the countryside. You’ve heard of Paul Revere’s famous ride across the countryside.” She nodded. “Of course what most people don’t know was that there were three men riding, and Revere never finished. The Regulars, as they would have referred to them, detained Revere and William Dawes. Dr. Samuel Prescott was the only one to reach Concord and deliver the warning, and when the Regulars arrived, the Americans were ready.”

  Kristina shook her head, chuckling quietly. “Well, thank you, professor.”

  He shrugged. “You asked.”

  “I didn’t expect a history lesson. I just think it’s pretty in here. Why do people care about what happened over two hundred years ago?”

  “Two hundred years isn’t that long,” he demurred, strolling around the five-foot-high boxed pews. How strange to think that they segregated parishioners inside the church. Wealthier families’ boxes were closer to the front, of course. He sensed Kristina move up behind him. “Pretty, you say?” he asked, turning to her and resting his hands on her waist. She was so tiny he could practically wrap his hands around her waist, but then again, he did have big hands. “Did you know there are thirty-seven crypts below the church containing the remains of over a thousand former members?”

  “Eww… really? Can we see them?”

  He laughed. “If we return and take the official tour, but all you see are the walled-up tombs.” Dropping a twenty in the donation box, he wrapped his arm around her waist and escorted her outside. “Come on. I’m getting hungry.”

  “I was wondering about that. You haven’t eaten anything.”

  Biting his tongue from responding, he glanced down at her. “Do you like oysters?”

  “Love them!”

  That was good, he thought. A woman who could eat oysters could understand his dietary needs; at least he
hoped. “Let’s go eat.”

  Though warmer than usual, the weather was perfect. It was seventy-two degrees, clear and sunny. Other than a few evergreens that dotted the lawn of the park, the trees were mostly barren, with only a few sprouts visible. But it didn’t detract from the beauty of the wharf with sailboats moored one after another in the harbor, their predominantly blue and white sails rustling in the breeze. The constant squawk of the seabirds as they vied for scraps the tourist left behind filled the air with a vacation-like appeal. Sounds he’d remembered hearing as a child while chasing the white-winged fiends away from his lunch on Old Orchard Beach in Maine. The salty air laced with the hint of shellfish prickled his tongue, and his stomach growled in response.

  Derrick handed his keys to the valet, slipping the gentleman a healthy tip before glaring at him. “No smoking, no scratches, and I’ll be leaving it here a while. I’ll have another tip ready if you can manage that.” The man gulped, but nodded in acquiescence. He didn’t like to come off as a brute, but he hated to have his vehicle returned scratched, and he couldn’t stand cigarettes. Thank goodness Kristina didn’t smoke too. He wouldn’t have been able to deal with that. It was much easier to wean someone off alcohol than cigarettes.

  He turned to Kristina to escort her inside, but noticed her eyes were wide and round. She’d seen him when he’d been ready to kill. Had she forgotten, or had she conjured up a different memory of him? He winked and smiled, hoping her features would relax. It almost worked; she looked slightly relieved, but two little lines still creased the area between her eyebrows. He rushed to explain, “Last time I let a valet park my car, they returned my vehicle with a long scratch and the stench of cigarettes. I’m very sensitive to smells,” he added, hoping she wouldn’t read into his comment too much, but understand that he had a reason for his severe tone. The last thing he wanted was for Kristina to be afraid of him, even though she should be frightened, since he’d admitted that under certain circumstances members of his family would be willing to kill her. She should have run in fear at that moment, but that was his Kristina, brave to the core.