Creatus Series Boxed Set

by Carmen DeSousa

  As soon as Vic turned off the car, Kris practically skipped to the entrance.

  “I’m serious, Kris. Take it down about ten notches.”

  Kris swung around. “Do you realize other than shopping with my friend Beth for wedding dresses, this is the first time I’ve been out with a woman in ages? I’m excited.” She narrowed her eyes and put her hands on her hips as she’d done earlier. “And you know, Vic, it wouldn’t hurt if you tried to liven up about ten notches. Why are you always so serious? Have some fun.”

  Vic closed the distance and stood directly over her. She was almost a head taller than Kris. “You’re not afraid of me anymore?”

  “No…I know you won’t hurt me. I want to be your friend.”

  “Why? I’ve been nothing but mean to you from day one.”

  Kristina smiled up at her. “Because I know what it’s like to be alone. I know you have plenty of ‘male’ family and friends, but you don’t have any female friends. And face it, no matter what your species, all women need ‘girl talk’ sometimes, don’t you agree?”

  Vic smiled. Damn, she’d wanted to hate Kris, but she was right. Hadn’t she just said the same thing last night? “Let’s go get you suited up and toughen you up some, girlie.”

  “Let’s,” Kristina chirped.

  After selecting the protective gear for Kris, Vic headed to Mike’s loft. Knowing him, if he didn’t think she’d be here until midnight, he’d find something—or someone—to fill his time beforehand, as he hated waiting for anything.

  “I think the best art I can teach you is Krav Maga. It originated in Israel, and it’s dedicated to a no-holds-barred incapacitation of your assailant in street survival. It incorporates boxing punches, kicks and knees, and grappling, and most importantly, it teaches you to block an attack and deliver a response simultaneously. Since you’re small, we’ll concentrate on attacks to vulnerable body parts: eyes, throat, and groin. We’ll work on training you with hand-eye coordination, so your defense becomes second nature and doesn’t require thought. Lastly, I’ll teach you to disarm an attacker, but we’re a ways off from that. If you want to continue, you’ll have to tell Derrick the truth, as he’s not going to believe we’re shopping a couple times a week.”

  “Really, you’ll do all that for me?”

  “Sure. The safer you are, the safer we’ll all be. As I said, though, you’re not going to be able to defend yourself against a creatus. A human man or woman without a gun, eventually, yes, and I can even show you a few moves to disarm a threat, but that comes with time. Our goal will be to learn a few great moves that you know better than breathing so you can execute them and escape. You’re too small to fight a man, so we need to keep you on your feet and give you enough time to flee.”

  Kris nodded.

  Ah…Vic thought, another thing to like about Kris. No questions.

  “Okay. First things first. Give me fifty jumping jacks.”

  Kris obeyed, but laughed, so Vic eyed her contemptuously. “It’s a warm up.”

  “Got it,” she said through a breath.

  After her muscles were warmed up, Vic showed Kris some stretches, and then positioned her next to a punching bag that had seen better days. Mike clearly had been doing some damage to it. Kris had just enough padding to protect her hands, arms, and shins, but since Vic wasn’t worried about Kris hurting her, she didn’t get her boxing gloves, just padded training gloves so she could hit the bag without busting up her knuckles.

  “First thing we’re going to concentrate on is balance. You won’t be doing any high kicks, because that would open you up to an assailant grabbing your leg and knocking you on your back, and you never want to be on the ground. Instead, we’ll concentrate on side kicks to the knee, and in up-close conflicts, knee strikes to the groin.” Vic lifted Kristina’s gloved fists in front of her. “Here’s where you keep your fists. Up high, but not too high. If they’re too high, an attacker can use your own fists against you. Just have them high enough to guard. Again, your arms aren’t long enough to attack or strong enough to inflict damage, so we’ll concentrate on guarding an attack, not landing one.”

  “Like this?” Kris asked, raising her hands in front of her face.

  Vic lightly smacked one of her hands, and Kristina’s fist bumped her own mouth.

  Kris licked her lips, but didn’t as much as wince. “Got it.” She lowered her fists just below her chin.

  “Plant your feet hip width apart, blade your body, fists up.” Vic demonstrated a fighter’s stance. “I want you to lift your right knee and then slowly stretch your leg out to the side.” Vic demonstrated a perfect side kick hold. “Right now, we’re just looking for balance and control. Bruce Lee was only 130 pounds, and he had one of the fastest and most powerful side kicks in martial arts. Even MMA fighters are going back to this kick. It’s easy, fast, and your opponent won’t see it coming. Try doing a roundhouse kick or a front kick and you’ll be on the ground with your attacker either kicking you in the head or slamming down on top of you. But take out your opponent’s knee, and he’ll be on the ground while you have time to escape. Again, that’s our goal: escape.”

  Kris attempted the move several times, wobbling, but after ten tries, she had her balance.

  “Now, after pulling up the knee, let it go, imagining taking out that guy’s knee who attacked you when you were sixteen.”

  Kristina’s jaw clenched and she practiced the kick several times, each time with more intensity.

  “Good…” Vic said. “Now, let’s try a combo. Assume that loser is trying to choke you from the front; we’ll get to the back next.” Vic walked over to the bag and demonstrated a knee to the groin. “But don’t stop. Yes, men hate that, but it won’t take down all of them. The moment you strike, be prepared to take out the knee. If you snap his leg back, he can’t chase you. Heck, if you learn how to push enough power behind your 110-pound frame, you might even be able to take out a creatus’ knee. We’re not invincible. Although Derrick likes to think he’s superman, even he isn’t made of steel, just blood and flesh like humans are. We’re just a lot stronger, but we still bleed and break bones.”

  Kris smiled and attempted the combo.

  “Nice, Kris,” Vic offered. “Now, add some anger to your kick. Let that scream out; it gives you more power. It’s called a Kiai. Try it.”

  “Key-ya!” Kris screamed.

  Vic laughed, watching Kris kick the crap out of her imaginary—or rather, past assailant. The girl sure had a reason to want to learn to protect herself. Watching her mother murdered in front of her and almost raped at sixteen, she could understand her request.

  “What the—” Derrick shouted above Kristina’s battle cries and Vic’s laughter.

  Kristina looked at him, but didn’t look contrite in the least. Good for her, Vic thought. He couldn’t always be there to protect her.

  “Hey, babe. Watch this.” Kris demonstrated her moves, then turned to grin at her husband.

  “Nice, but that doesn’t look like shopping,” Derrick chided, but Vic saw the slight raise of his cheek as he tried to hold his smile at bay.

  “We shopped.” Kris ran toward him. “Look what Vic bought me.”

  Derrick nodded and looked over Kristina’s head. “Nice, Vic. Thanks.”

  Vic smiled in response. “Anytime, babe.”

  He growled, but then scooped up his wife in his arms. “Why didn’t you tell me you wanted to train? I’d teach you.”

  “You will?” she asked. “You’re always saying how fragile I am, and that you’re afraid to break me.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s true, but I can teach you defensive moves.” He went to kiss her, but stopped. “What happened to your lip?”

  Kris touched her lip as though she’d forgotten her first lesson. “Oh…I hit myself in the lip.”

  Derrick glared over his wife’s head again. “I’ll teach you not to hit yourself too.”

  Michael strolled over toward the bag. “You ready, Derrick? You
promised a spar.”

  “Not right now…” Derrick set down Kristina, but kept his arms around her waist.

  Vic sighed inwardly. She wanted that…she couldn’t help it. She wanted a man to worry about her, a man who couldn’t keep his hands to himself. Surprisingly though, for the first time, she didn’t feel jealousy toward Kris and didn’t crave those hands to be around her body. She craved a different set of arms, the ones that had torn a door down to protect her.

  “Come on, Bro. Just a few minutes.”

  “Go ahead, Derrick,” Kris urged. “Maybe I’ll pick up some moves.”

  “No. Sorry. I can’t fight in front of my wife.”

  “But I’ve seen you fight several times.”

  Derrick sighed. “No. You’ve seen me incapacitate a human attacker within seconds…and you were very young the first time and drugged the second time.”

  Kristina folded her arms. She had a lot of spitfire in that tiny body. Vic was starting to like her more and more. “You don’t think I can handle watching a sparring match.”

  “Fine,” Derrick said. He pulled off his shirt and approached his brother.

  Michael followed suit, and Vic couldn’t help but admire the two works of art before her. At six-foot-six, Mike was larger, but Derrick was fast. She’d fought them both. She’d enjoy a little scrapping tonight, a chance to release some of her pent-up frustration. “I take winner.”

  Michael wiggled his eyebrows. “Ooh…an incentive. Where you taking me—”

  Smack. Derrick landed a roundhouse kick to the back of Michael’s head, knocking him forward a few feet.

  “Another good rule, Kris, never take your eyes off your opponent.”

  Kris grinned and turned her eyes back to her husband.

  Mike, as always, didn’t bother with showy kicks, the reason Derrick had thrown his first kick quickly. Michael was a grappler. Head down, he charged his brother. Derrick remained on his feet, though, landing a few well-placed punches to his brother’s exposed side, but Michael could take a punch.

  Within seconds, Michael swept out Derrick’s feet and tried to pin him, but Derrick bounced back up on his feet and was behind Michael in seconds, tapping his kidneys with a right uppercut and a left uppercut. Michael whirled quickly, coming around with a right hook, but again, Derrick was too fast. He ducked and then came up under Mike’s chin with another uppercut and then planted a left jab, square against Michael’s face.

  Michael swayed, but instead of falling, he came back with a perfectly timed left uppercut, just while Derrick was following through with his left.

  Vic tapped Kris on the shoulder. “When you lean in for a hit, be prepared to get hit back. Every punch leaves you susceptible. That’s why I said, stick with the low kicks, and then run.”

  Kris nodded, but refused to peel her eyes away from her husband, which Vic had tried to do because she knew what was coming next.

  Michael didn’t stop. He followed his uppercut with a right hook and then a left. Derrick wrapped his arms around his brother and threw him to the ground. Enough of the boxing, it seemed. Derrick was ready to wrestle. Mike jumped up in a crouch, and Derrick launched, and the tangling moved to a wrestling match on the ground. Derrick managed to get Mike in a headlock, but Mike bucked backward until he had him against the wall, but Derrick didn’t release any slack.

  Mike’s lips moved, but he was barely whispering. Would he really give up so quickly? Seconds later, though, Mike swung Derrick in front of him, and the next thing she knew, Mike had his armpit on Derrick’s shoulder and the crook of his arm wrapped around his brother’s neck, pressing his hand to his wrist on the opposite side of Derrick’s neck, cutting off both carotid arteries simultaneously. A rear naked choke, or, as seen on TV, a sleeper hold.

  Derrick was out within ten seconds.

  Kris darted across the room, screaming, but Derrick’s eyes popped open only a few seconds after he collapsed. Kris fell down in front of him. “Are you okay?”

  “He’s fine…ready to take on the champion, Vic.” Mike swayed his hips back and forth.

  “Champion, my foot. More like, cheater,” Vic said. “I have to go get my stuff. Wanna come babysit, you big wuss. I’ll fight you when you beat Derrick for real.”

  Kris turned and stared at Vic, then back at Derrick and Michael.

  Vic ‘tsked-tsked’ the two of them and shook her head. “No way Mike got him in that hold.”

  “Is that true?” Kris asked.

  Derrick rolled his eyes and stood, pulling his wife with him. “Let’s go home, Kristina. I’d like to see a few of your moves.” He grabbed his shirt and shoved Vic as he walked by. No more boxing with my wife.”

  “She asked…” Vic defended herself, snatching up her purse and following them out of Mike’s apartment.

  “Wait up, Vic. I’m your bodyguard remember.”

  “That’ll be the day,” she said, but held the door for him. “Don’t think you’re getting in my car smelling like that. You can drive.”

  “Like I’d fit in your car...” Michael flashed a smirk, then rubbed his arm against hers.

  “Ewww…”

  “Ooh…I love it when you act like a girl, Victoria.” Michael imitated a teenage girl’s swoon, falling back against the elevator wall.

  “Shut up.” She stared at Derrick. “You really hate me, don’t you?”

  “Not one bit,” Derrick said, smiling.

  Vic couldn’t help but notice that Derrick didn’t have an ounce of sweat on him. She knew Derrick had let him win. Michael was an okay fighter, but he was slower than Derrick. He only had his strength.

  She couldn’t help but wonder if Reece had really allowed Michael to beat him up. He’d wanted to be captured, but when he thought Michael was hurting her, he’d shot him. He hadn’t shot him before. She couldn’t help but wonder how well they’d fare in a real fight.

  She laughed inwardly, wondering if human girls thought about that stuff. Maybe she’d ask her new friend.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Reece gazed at the four-story brownstone from a café across the street. Finding where Victoria lived wasn’t a difficult task. In fact, locating the addresses of all the physicians and nurses at the hospital was a piece of cake. Creatus, it seemed, were content in hiding in plain sight.

  The farmhouse where Victoria had taken him, however, was a different case. He searched everywhere for records of the sale, but found nothing leading back to any of the names he’d heard over the last few weeks.

  He frowned as Mike held open the door of her building, allowing her to walk ahead of him. Reece couldn’t help but notice the bounce in Mike’s step, the confident stride of a man escorting a woman to her apartment. His insides boiled at the thought. He’d joked around a lot with Victoria over the last few weeks, but he’d also been honest. When he told her he wasn’t joking, he wasn’t. Never had a woman affected him like this, never had he wanted to kill to protect what he wanted.

  “Looks like we both lost, huh?” The low drone reached Reece before he saw the face. Jonas sat down across from him, and a younger man, who looked like a slightly younger version of Jonas, slid into the booth next to him.

  Although most of the creatus Reece had seen in the hospital had sleek black hair, olive skin tone, and obsidian-colored eyes, these two looked more like Derrick, slightly lighter eyes with specks of hazel, a hint of bronze coloring in the younger man’s hair, and both men had a few waves in their hair as Michael did.

  Reece motioned to the younger man. “Your brother?”

  “Yep. Ry, this is Reece Buckley.”

  Reece didn’t bother to extend his hand, but neither did Ry. “I’d say nice to meet you, but that’d be a lie.”

  Jonas smiled. “We got off on the wrong foot, my man, but believe me, you and I have more in common than you know.”

  “Unlikely,” Reece muttered, continuing their uncivil exchange in a muted whisper as Jonas. Clearly, neither of them wanted Victoria, Michael, or any of
the restaurant patrons to overhear their tête-à-tête.

  “And here I heard you were a nice guy, the reason they couldn’t kill you,” Jonas lashed back quietly. His brother just watched without offering any comments.

  “Want me to be a nice guy?” Reece offered. “Here’s a tip. I’m the last person you should be seen with. I’m sure I’m under surveillance as we speak.”

  “Nah…I checked. But hey…” Jonas smacked the table, causing two patrons in the small café to look up from behind their laptops. Three men topping six-foot tall, with darker skin than the average Bostonian, was sure to attract attention, no need for the extra noises. “Guess what, my friend. We’re practically related. Ry and I are from South Carolina, our daddy was in the army, and of course there’s that other thing we have in common.”

  Reece released a breath through his nose and stared at the man across from him. A laugh from Victoria caught his attention. He’d been doing a good job of tuning out the two of them since Jonas had arrived. It was never smart to let an opponent see your cards, and if Jonas knew how much it bothered him to see Victoria with Mike, he was certain that he’d find a way to use it against him. One of the reasons he’d tried never to get too close in a relationship. If you loved someone, others could hurt you. Tried, was the opportune word. The one time he had—he shook his head—he couldn’t think about that now.

  As much as he wanted to drag Jonas and his brother to the police department, he knew he couldn’t do that either. Exposing them would expose all of them. Besides, he knew the police station couldn’t hold Jonas. If Jonas or Ry were guilty of the murders, he’d have to take care of them himself.

  “Get out of that drawer!” Victoria shrieked, and she must have smacked Michael’s hand.

  “Oh…you’d rather sleep in the nude? That’s okay.” Mike laughed.

  Reece felt his face get hot. He clenched his hands together beneath the table, digging his fingernails into his palms.