Creatus

his neck had been snapped, but there were no signs of a struggle or defensive wounds. It was clean and swift, a planned attacked. Somehow, the rogue knew the detective would be there. And I can’t help but wonder if he’s trying to set me up.”

Kristina leaned back, her eyes wide, as if that hadn’t occurred to her, but clearly revealing that it had worked. She obviously had thought for a second that he might have murdered the detective.

Matt stepped closer. “But this isn’t how the other murders—”

“Exactly,” Derrick interrupted. He looked down at Kristina. He didn’t want her to hear his next words, but he also didn’t want her to think he was keeping anything from her. “He—the rogue—spoke to me the other night. Heck, it could have been a ‘she’ for all I know. The voice was low and garbled, but he said he was coming for Kristina, and he called me by name.”

Kristina threw her hand over her mouth and stumbled backward as though she would be sick again.

Derrick held his hand out to her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to worry.”

She shook her head, more tears falling, and Derrick felt as though his heart would break. How much more could she take? How could he expect her to live like this?

Matt pulled in a breath, nodding. “So it’s someone we banished, but they’re blaming you,” he speculated. “Is Mike tracking down everyone we’ve exiled in the last ten to twenty years?”

Derrick shrugged, thinking that would have been a good start, but he doubted it. As Michael had suggested, they’d taken to the streets, assuming it was a psychotic rogue, not a vengeful creatus. But what if they weren’t actually eating humans, only wanted it to look as if they were.

“Call him and tell him to get started,” Matt continued. “I’ll go in and start the ball rolling.” He looked at Kristina. “You think you can talk if they request? You don’t have to, of course.”

“As soon as I saw the man, I ran out the door in fear. When I came downstairs, Derrick had just pulled up,” Kristina babbled off, just as he’d told her with only minor variances.

“And why was Derrick there?” Matt asked.

“He’s my fiance; I’d asked him to meet me there when I spoke with the detective.”

“Good. Nothing else is any of their business. Not why you jumped off the bridge or whether Derrick followed you. Nothing. Do you understand? The only question you answer is that the detective had some questions.” He lowered his head and looked at her. “You don’t know what his questions were. It would only be speculation. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” He offered her a smile. “You saw, you left, Derrick was waiting on the street. Anything else they ask I will object to as not relevant. Understand?”

“Yes.” She sighed, crossing her arms. “I understand.”

Kristina had reached her max, and evidently, Matt had realized it too, as he raised his hands in surrender. “Derrick will not be talking to them, as he was never in the apartment,” he added for good measure then turned and walked away.

Derrick pulled Kristina to a stop when she started to follow. “You okay?”

“No!” she said, a frustrated huff escaping her throat. “But, yes. I’ll survive. I always survive!” She pulled her hand loose and stomped off.

Chapter Twenty

Rogue. Was that the best name they could come up with? The world had no idea what this rogue was capable of. There was a time when creatus were gods, superheroes, idols.

They’d been on the earth almost as long as humans and still they had to slither in the shadows, not allowing anyone to see their strength and power.

Creatus weren’t anomalies; they were superior in every way. Even the fact that they’d landed on this planet some four thousand years ago proved their superiority. Too bad their ancestors had destroyed all evidence of their supremacy.

The only way to become great again would be to start a war, to hint to the humans of their existence. Once the humans knew that creatus existed, they’d have to protect themselves, which would start a battle between their species. And when the creatus banded together—around the world, in every nation, in every government office— the world would once again worship and fear them, as they should.

Derrick was just one of many leaders who didn’t understand this. And since New England was one of the largest and most powerful sects, and Derrick was one of the strongest creatus, he had to be dealt with first.

Until then, the name rogue would have to suffice. Tonight, a calling card on the woman would elicit a notable name from the media anyway. The wax seal wouldn’t prompt the correct name, but it would hint at an ancient myth. Even if humans didn’t believe the fairy tales and horror stories, they’d know something was different about these killings. They’d never figure out why every victim suffered a different death, but was found in the same condition, as that wasn’t standard serial killer MO. Their textbook investigations will fail, and then the media will scream for justice.

Every superhero had a name, and so did the superhero’s archenemy. The press could make up any name they wanted. But they’d probably come up with something ridiculous like ‘Count’. Maybe leaking ‘creatus’ to the press would be the way to go. Creatus would know with certainty after this attack, and they’d be angry. The seal meant unity, but also anonymity, and now humans would once again question the existence of beings who were smarter and stronger, and they’d be afraid, as they should be.

After tonight, Rogue would work well within the family, as it was the one crime the family wouldn’t tolerate. The name was starting to sound tolerable. A mischievously playful person, one who lives apart from the rest of the group—naughty. The depiction was sounding better all the time. Uncontrolled, though… never!

The human woman walked down to the river a while ago and had been just looking out as if in a daze. Her hair was fair, as was her skin. Weak, pathetic, hardly even worth the effort, but it was fun when they knew a predator was stalking them. Like watching a rabbit attempt to evade a cougar, only a rabbit had more skills than a human did.

Just when the prey thought they might escape was the time for the real attack. The lightning strike they didn’t see coming, when their breath whooshed out of their body at the suddenness. How they tried to comprehend that their feet were on the ground and now they were on the rooftop, the predator staring down at them.

That was the best part.

Even better, the attack would enrage Derrick.

Chapter Twenty-one

Kris stares at the calm water of the harbor. It is so peaceful that she wonders how she can feel fear. But she does, wondering why Derrick left her, who he went to see. She remembers the detective’s eyes, cold and dark, lifeless, staring up at her. Death is always near, taunting her. The rogue is coming, she knows. His breaths are louder as he approaches. To finish what the thief attempted when she was eight. She screams Derrick’s name, but he doesn’t answer. Why? she wonders. He said he’d protect her, but now she’s running for her life. Not knowing who or what is chasing her, wondering if she can trust anyone, she tries to find her assailant. She hears a crack and whips her head around, seeing nothing.

Arms latch around her, restraining her. She screams as her feet leave the grassy knoll below, knowing he has her, but she can’t see him.

“It’s okay. I have you. It’s Derrick.” His words broke through her nightmare.

“The rogue…” Her voice sounded ragged even to her. “He… he… had me. He pulled me off the ground…