Creatus (Creatus Series) (17 page)

Chapter Thirty

“Anything?” Derrick asked Michael over the phone.

“Nothing. Not even an attack on a human.” Michael was obviously tapping away on his iPhone as he used the earpiece because the annoying tap came through the phone like a bass drum. His brother knew he hated it, but he never put the phone down; he was an addict. “Of course, we patrolled the city well,” he continued. “I’m starting to wonder if maybe you’re correct. Maybe it is someone we know, and they are just looking to destroy you.”

“My bet’s on Jonas, Michael. You need to see what he’s been doing the last few years.”

“He just got back a couple of days ago; these have been going on for weeks,” Michael protested. “We’ve been best friends since he and his brother and mom moved here. Heck we spent more time in high school together than you or I, Derrick.”

Derrick inhaled a deep breath, not wanting to argue. “I know, Bro, but people change.
And just because he hasn’t been hanging out at family gatherings doesn’t mean he hasn’t been in town. Ry could have just been looking for an opening to get him back inside family matters.”

“I’ll do some research. I already tracked down everyone who
’s left in the last ten years, so I’ll work on that today.” Michael stopped talking for a second and then chuckled. “You know, you sound pretty chipper, considering all that’s going on. So, everything’s good? You two warm and cozy up there?”

“Actually, it’s freezing.”

His brother let out a loud guffaw. “I’m not talking about the weather, dude.”

“Oh, that warm and cozy…” Derrick let his words trail off. “I’m not talking to you, man. Besides, what d
o you care? You hate humans. So you certainly don’t want to hear any of my
boring
details,” he drew out his words and then lowered his voice, “You want a strong woman who’ll rock your world, right?”

Michael laughed again. “Yeah. I guess I do.”

“So, when exactly are you going to tell her?”

“Tell who?” he grumbled, giving away that he knew ‘
who’
.

“Victoria,” Derrick chided. “Come on, man. You practically crawled across the floor the other day, telling her what you wanted in a woman. She was just too angry to see it, but she will. You two are perfect for each other.”

Michael huffed. “We would end up destroying each other. We’re too much alike.”

“Ah-ha, so you are interested.”

“Yeah,” he conceded. “I’ve always been interested in Vic, but she sees right through me, as if I’m just an apparition. Jonas wanted her too. At least he did in high school. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s the real reason he came back. You know, we always assumed she wanted you because you were the strongest.” Derrick rolled his eyes even though Michael couldn’t see him. “So, where’s Kristina? You let her out of your sight?” his brother asked nonchalantly as if he didn’t really care, just changing the subject.

“Not really. She’s having a spa treatment. We’ll be meeting in about fifteen minutes in the couple’s area.”

“Have fun, loverboy, while I endeavor here with no warm woman to keep me company on these chilly nights.”

Derrick laughed. “As if you’ve ever had a problem finding a warm body.”

“Yeah well, sometimes we grow up.”

A huff threatened to pop out of Derrick’s throat, but he restrained it. Maybe his brother really was growing up. “All right then. I’ll call you tomorrow,” Derrick said and hung up. He made his way to the couple’s lounge. He was looking forward to another incredible evening with his wife, but he had a day of outdoor activities planned today.

Derrick found an open love seat and sat down to wait for Kristina. He pulled out his iPhone, checking the weather to see what the ski conditions were for tomorrow, as he’d already made reservations for zip lining today. If they weren’t good, he had back-up plans of sleigh rides, hiking, or horseback riding. Heck, even staying inside all day would be fine with him, but he wanted their makeshift honeymoon to be something she’d remember forever, since she hadn’t wanted the huge wedding as most women did.

He glanced at the time. Kristina was late. He pulled their reservation receipt out of his wallet and confirmed the time. Only five minutes, which wasn’t unusual for her as she was habitually late. But still, the hotel filled every slot; they were never late.

Derrick made a loop outside the couple’s area. He glanced at the hot tub and pool, thinking maybe she’d assumed they were supposed to meet there. Coming up empty, he sought out one of the employees to see if her appointment had been rescheduled for a later time. The woman whom he had spoken with earlier was on the phone, explaining the different services they offered to a prospective customer. She peeped up at him and smiled, but returned her eyes to her computer. The woman droned on, detailing every massage and facial treatment that was available.

“I’m sorry, Miss,” he interrupted, and her eyes flashed to him, irritation now overshadowing her
previously friendly smile. Ignoring her glower, he asked, “Did my wife change the time of her treatment?”

“Excuse me,”
the woman said into the phone and then glanced at him. “Could you give me a minute, sir?”

“No. It’ll just take a second. My wife was supposed to meet me in the couple’s area ten minutes ago, and she’s not there.”

The woman sucked on her teeth. “One second, sir, and I will be glad to look up that information.” She returned to the caller. “Yes, ma’am. We can schedule you in tomorrow.” She clicked her mouse, scrolling down the computer screen. “Hmm… let’s see.”

Derrick had lost all patience. E
ven though it wasn’t the woman’s fault, her unwillingness to understand his concern aggravated him. He understood someone was on the phone, but shouldn’t the person standing in front of her take precedence? He stormed toward the couple’s area again to see if Kristina had returned. Pulling out his phone, he checked the time again. Fifteen minutes. His blood raced through his veins. He glanced at the women’s locker room, wondering how quickly he’d get the staff’s attention if he sought out his wife himself.

Clearly, fifteen minutes meant nothing to them, but if the rogue had found Kristina. He whooshed out a breath, his hands trembling. Decided, he opened the door to the female locker room. He didn’t care what they thought; he only wanted to know if he needed to seek his wife. And if she was embarrassed, so be it. “Kristina!” he shouted into the vacant corridor. All the rooms were private, so it wasn’t as if there would be naked women wandering the halls. They all wore robes, courtesy of the hotel.  He stepped inside, letting the door close behind him. “Kristina,” he repeated, louder, and he could be very loud. His voice had a ten
dency to carry if he so desired. And right now, he had only one concern: finding his wife.

Chapter Thirty-one

Reece sifted through the files,
dating back fourteen years. He’d been surprised when he searched Kristina Heskin’s records and discovered she’d been the victim of a brutal attack that had left her mother bleeding on the street, but she’d walked away.

“My Dark Angel saved me”
, O’Brian had written in quotes on the now-faded police report, but thankfully as most cops, all his reports were scribbled in bold black ink, standard procedure for officers. O’Brian had also made a file he’d titled as “dark angel”. Too bad O’Brian was dead; he probably could have picked his brain.

Reece pulled out the stack of reports he’d lifted from the dead detective’s office. Most cops didn’t bother to keep paper copies, but O’Brian was
old school, just like Reece’s dad. Reece remembered how his old man would never trust computers, always said, “
What’re they gonna do when they all crash and burn? Or terrorists take out the Internet?”
He missed his father; he was the one man Reece could trust with his life. Even in the military, Reece hadn’t felt completely comfortable. Things weren’t the same as they’d been when his father was a cop, as he’d always complained, and Reece had to agree with his Pop. Reece was born in the Deep South where loyalty meant something. Even the men he’d met overseas and in Miami would stab you in the back metaphorically as quickly as a punk would stick you with a blade on the street, if it meant they’d advance in front of you. He’d kept his nose clean while he served his country and his head down when he returned to the U.S. His promotion had nothing to do with the good ole boy system; he was where he was because he had a knack for finding missing links.

The reports under the “Dark Angel” tab dated back
eight years, but then stopped a few years ago. Some of the reports hadn’t been O’Brian’s, but they all had one thing in common. Every report was of an attack on a citizen where a vigilante had intervened. Though said in different ways, each victim had claimed that one second the thief had been on them, and the next it was as if they’d disappeared. One woman had gone on to say that she was sure it was Batman who had protected her.

Reece reclined on the hard mattress of the cheap hotel room his agency had reserved. Whatever happened to the plush accommodations he’d seen in the movies? James Bond had never stayed in a fleabag hotel. Apparently holding a license to kill didn’t mean the same as it used to.

He stared up at the water and smoke-stained ceiling, wondering how the incidents connected. Fourteen years ago, this supposed Dark Angel protected an eight-year-old girl. Six years later, he saves others, but then disappears until the Tobin Bridge event, nearly three years after the last report.

Reece logged into Massachusetts’ police database, courtesy of his boss’ security clearance. After a rudimentary search, he returned a few situations where a vigilante had stepped in to help a civilian in the last
eight years. However, none of those incidents included any mention of supernatural occurrences as the others had. Maybe that was why O’Brian had left them out. Again, he thought about what a waste it was that O’Brian was dead.

Clicking through the crime reports, he ran across a slew of homicides in the last couple of months. No mention of a vigilante stepping in, but the crimes in of themselves were interesting. Every corpse had been
torn
in pieces. The ME’s report had used
torn
for a reason, he was certain. Sawed, ripped to shreds by an animal, axed, hammered, and pulled apart by two cars—that wasn’t a pretty sight, even if the dude was a drug dealer—were all terms Reece was accustomed to from his investigations in Miami and South America. But he’d never run across the term
torn
.

Reece clicked on the images from the medical examiner’s office, zooming in the screen to get a better look.
Torn
was the correct word. Pieces of flesh and muscle hung from the appendages, indicating the body had in fact been torn apart.

Had the Dark Angel in fact gone dark? Could Derrick Ashton have finally had enough with society and instead of helping, decide
d to punish?

Chapter Thirty-two

Michael sat across from Rebecca at the sushi restaurant they always
ate at when he came to see her for information.

She twirled a lock of her short hair as she leaned toward him. “I deleted all of O’Brian’s computer files, Michael, but I can’t find the hard copies, and I know he kept them,” Rebecca said.

“So you think the same guy took them?”

Rebecca bobbed her head. She was so cute, not nearly as intimidating as some creatus women. Her decision to cut her hair in the short bob had surprised him though. She already looked so young. She’d only been
home from school for a couple of years, but she was a genius when it came to computers. He’d had Rebecca earmarked for a position in Boston’s PD immediately. It wasn’t hard to do. The man who’d interviewed her for the position had fallen in love with her looks, and her mind was sharp. All she needed was a position where she had access to a computer, and she could get Michael anything in the state. Of course, he had intentions of getting her to a government office in Washington, but at thirty-seven—twenty-seven to the rest of the world—she barely looked as if she were drinking age. So he had a few years to mold her.

Rebecca took a bite of her tuna, careful to scrape off the rice. “I also tracked down the guy who recorded Kristina’s free dive off the Tobin, but he
doesn’t have another copy.”

Michael cocked his head. “He gave the original to O’Brian, right?”

“Uh-uh,” she said, taking a sip of her water. “He’d given him a copy, since he had material he needed on it. When I told him we lost the copy and needed another, he said he’d gladly give us another disc, but he’d already told O’Brian that someone else from the department had taken his only copy. He said if he gets it back, he’ll call me.”

“Do you think he was telling the truth?” Michael asked.

She shrugged. “Why would he lie? He’s the one who came to the PD and offered it to O’Brian in the first place.”

Michael bit down on his lip and glanced around the restaurant. Derrick always complained about everyone else doing things to screw up, and here he’d screwed up twice. And now, as always, Michael had to clean up behind him. Derrick had thought that no one would believe a little girl’s claim of seeing a “dark angel”, and yet, O’Brian had held onto the report for fourteen years. “You got the copies for me?”

Rebecca dug in her briefcase. “Yep. All of them.”

“All? I thought there were only two,” Michael questioned.

“When I searched his computer, I found more reports filed under “dark angel”; I assumed you’d want them all.”

Michael smiled, and if he weren’t mistaken, pint-sized Rebecca gave him a little wiggle. He was flattered, but she wasn’t his type. And she was too young. Granted, she was only twelve years his junior, but—who was he kidding? He’d never had a type. Until Victoria came on the market, that is. Now, his days and nights were inundated with thoughts of her. And clearly, Jonas wanted her too. So after waiting years for Derrick to make up his mind, Jonas strolls back into town and makes a pass at her. Michael had decided not to mention to his brother about Vic and Jonas’ pow-wow last night, as he certainly didn’t need to add any additional fuel to Derrick’s animosity against Jonas. At first he’d been overjoyed when he watched Victoria fend off Jonas’ advances, but the moment Jonas had turned to leave, she’d bolted after him.

He did have to be thankful to Jonas for one thing, though; he’d told her that both of them had liked her since high school, so maybe she wouldn’t be blindsided when he confronted her.

“Michael?”

Michael lifted his head to see Rebecca’s eyes as they bore into his. “I’m sorry, what?” He’d heard her speak, but had lost total focus on the issue at hand as his mind battled with how to approach Victoria. All of a sudden, he felt as though he were out of time, realizing if he didn’t do something quickly, he’d lose her forever.

Rebecca batted her long black eyelashes over her liquid-ink eyes that reminded him of a fawn in their innocence. “I asked if you’d like to meet me after work.”

“Oh.” He gulped, not wanting to offend such a pretty little thing. If he couldn’t get Victoria’s attention, perhaps Rebecca could be his type. He flashed a sideways smile, the one his mother always told him would get him his way. “I can’t tonight. Raincheck?”

She chewed on the tip of her nail as she stood up. “Sure. Let me know if you need anything else.” She tromped off, obviously knowing he had no intention of taking her up on her proposal.  There weren’t many secrets within the family. If Derrick and Jonas
had known he was in love with Victoria, more than likely everyone did.

Michael threw a fifty on the bill and left the restaurant. He had one more stop to make before he did anything else.

Before exiting his Dodge Charger, Michael grabbed his ID from the glove box. Though technically he was a medical doctor by degree, he’d stepped away from the profession, seeing a need elsewhere within the family. Derrick was skeptical at first, but he’d realized in this day and age, they needed his expertise. In the last twelve years, Michael had situated creatus in high-level positions around the globe. So if anything ever got out of control, a couple clicks of a mouse, and the evidence would disappear.

He used the designated entrance, positive no one would stop him; of course his ID was up-to-date if they did. He smiled as he passed the nurses’ station, listening to their whispers. Probably the women who didn’t know his brother personally would mistake him for Derrick. Sure he had two inches and about twenty pounds on his older brother, but most women only saw the tall, dark, and handsome doctor.
Why couldn’t Victoria see that
? he wondered. Though, he knew why. To Victoria, he was just another creatus, a brother in arms. She’d grown up with him, had fought most of the males. She’d been the only female near their age, so she didn’t hang out with the girls. She played football and basketball with them. It wasn’t as if they’d complain; they needed players, as they certainly couldn’t play with humans.

Michael stepped into the hospital room, pleased to see that she was alone. He’d rather not have to explain to a parent or fiancé why someone other than her regular doctor was here.

Beth’s face had cleared up some over the last couple of days. Such a shame. She really was a pretty girl. He’d always been a fan of strawberry blondes. Derrick thought he hated all humans. He didn’t. He just wasn’t willing to let any human jeopardize their way of life, nor would he let a creatus for that matter. He planned to do his job to the fullest, whatever it took.