Creatus Series Boxed Set Read online

  The Creatus Series

  Carmen DeSousa

  Creatus (They Exist) The Prequel

  Book One ~Creatus

  Book Two ~ Creatus Rogue

  Book Three ~ Creatus Eidolon

  Creatus Series Boxed Set

  Copyright© 2014 by Carmen DeSousa

  Published by Carmen DeSousa

  ISBN-10: 0989905060

  ISBN-13: 9780989905060

  Cover Design: Viola Estrella http://www.estrellacoverart.com/

  Creatus Series Boxed Set Includes:

  Creatus (They Exist) The Prequel

  Copyright© 2014 by Carmen DeSousa

  Published by Carmen DeSousa

  CREATUS

  Copyright© 2013 by Carmen DeSousa

  Published by Carmen DeSousa

  CREATUS ROGUE

  Copyright© 2014 by Carmen DeSousa

  Published by Carmen DeSousa

  CREATUS Eidolon

  Copyright© 2014 by Carmen DeSousa

  Published by Carmen DeSousa

  www.CarmenDeSousa.com

  PO Box 2103

  Palm Harbor, FL 34682-2103

  U.S.A.

  This is a fictional work. All characters and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are solely the concepts and products of the author’s imagination or are used to create a fictitious story and should not be construed as real. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form by any means, without the prior permission in writing, except in the case of brief quotations, reviews, and articles. For any other permission, please email Ann at [email protected].

  WELCOME

  Dear Friend,

  Thank you for entrusting me with your precious time. I hope you enjoy reading the Creatus Series as much as I loved writing it.

  If you’ve already read the prequel, I made a few hyperlinks below so you can jump right into the next books, or find your way if you want to come back and reread a certain part. I know I do that when I read.

  Happy reading,

  Carmen

  Prequel ~ Creatus (They Exist)

  Book One ~ Creatus

  Book Two ~ Creatus Rogue

  Book Three ~ Creatus Eidolon

  Creatus (They Exist)

  Prequel to the Creatus Series

  Carmen DeSousa

  In every myth, there’s a modicum of truth.

  Believe…

  CHAPTER ONE

  Bored beyond belief by the instructor’s dull and repetitive lecture, Derrick leaned back in his chair, wishing he could skip this part of his training. He’d already gone through extensive preparation and instruction, and by all accounts, had his PH.D. in Internal Medicine. As with the rest of the residents at his family’s small hospital, though, he needed to complete his education in the US and receive an accredited degree.

  The double doors of the auditorium burst open, and a young woman barreled into the didactic session. A backpack slung over one shoulder, causing her to walk with a slight tilt, and her long platinum hair fighting to escape her ponytail captured everyone’s attention from the speaker, especially Derrick’s.

  The instructor didn’t miss a beat, though, as he droned on about malpractice suits, state-of-the-art procedures that the training hospital would be putting into effect, and finally the importance of being on time if you wanted to be selected to be a resident upon finishing the program.

  The last topic, Derrick was certain, was aimed at the young woman who was now nervously jotting down everything the lecturer was saying.

  Derrick couldn’t care less about a position within the prestigious Boston hospital. He knew his future and what role he was destined to fill. He would be an attending physician at his family’s small hospital, and his father had hinted that he’d be overseer. The council had already mentioned him stepping in; it was just a matter of him being ready.

  The discourse ended, and Derrick moved quickly, cutting off escaping students so he could bump into the woman. Not that he was supposed to fraternize with anyone in school, but she’d caught his eye so completely he had to talk to her.

  While tapping on her cell phone, the young woman juggled her books in the crook of her arm as she rushed toward the exit. Busy woman, he thought.

  “Need some help?” He reached for the books in her arms before she could object.

  “Hey…” She looked like a viper ready to strike, but then her pupils dilated as she stared up at him. “I’m sorry…do I know you?”

  “No…” He offered her a smile, hoping to settle her nerves. He didn’t speak to many women, but when he did, he always got that same staggered expression. “But you looked as though you needed a third hand.”

  “I don’t think I could manage if I were an octopus.”

  He laughed. Beautiful and a sense of humor. Most of the women he knew were too serious. “Funny. Are you off to another lecture?”

  “No…I’m late for work. I keep telling my boss not to schedule me on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but he doesn’t listen, and then—sorry…TMI. I tend to ramble on, something the professors keep fussing at me about. Thanks. I sent the message, so I can carry my books now. I’m not up on all these new gadgets.” She waved her phone. “This is my first cell phone. I can’t afford it, but I really needed it. ” She smacked her hand over her mouth and reached for her books. “See…I never shut up.”

  Derrick couldn’t help but smile. She was so cute. “I’ll walk you to your car. That way if your boss replies, you can respond quickly.”

  Her eyes narrowed this time, a look he wasn’t accustomed to; the few women he talked to trusted him completely. Even the female professors said he had a wonderful bedside manner. “Umm…it’s okay. I take the ‘T’.”

  “Would you like a lift, then, so you aren’t late?”

  She shook her head. “No. Thank you. I appreciate it…but I don’t even know you.”

  “Derrick Ashton.” He offered her his hand.

  The young woman hesitantly extended her slender, creamy-skinned hand. Her hand looked so small and delicate in his larger, olive-skinned hand. “Nice to meet you, Derrick. I’m Janelle Heskin. But still…”

  Derrick released her after a second and lifted his hands in front of him. “I’m harmless, I swear. They wouldn’t have accepted me into medical school if I had a record, and I’m here because I want to help people, and you looked like you needed help.”

  She laughed. “That makes sense. Okay, but I have a bottle of pepper spray, and I’m not afraid to use it.”

  “Keep it handy, but I assure you, you won’t need it. I only want to help.” Derrick turned and headed toward his Navigator, hating that she’d see him driving such a fancy new vehicle after her comment about not being able to afford a cell phone. He’d bought it because of the leg and headroom. At six-four, he didn’t fit comfortably into too many vehicles, and when his brother was home from school, he appreciated it too. At six-six, his brother barely fit through some doorways.

  Derrick held open the passenger door, allowing Janelle to step up. “Nice,” she said as he opened the driver’s side door. She ran her hand over the soft leather. “Your parents do well, I take it.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t live off my parents’ money.” He hated when people automatically assumed that. He knew he looked young, but he’d always been a hard worker, and he put in plenty of hours at the clinic. Everyone in his family worked from the time they were sixteen.

  “Oh…okay…” She paused for a breath, then said, “Just head toward East Somerville.”

  He cring
ed without meaning to.

  “I know it’s not the best neighborhood…but—”

  “Sorry…that was rude. As I said, I worry about people, especially beautiful young women walking home at night.”

  She attempted to mutter ‘yeah right’ under her breath, which was impossible; he had excellent hearing. Although he knew she didn’t mean for him to hear her, he wanted to laugh at her denial. How could she not think she was beautiful?

  Resisting commenting, he just peeked in her direction. “So, what time do you get off work? Would you like to grab something to eat afterward?”

  She released a soft exhale. “Derrick, you seem like a really nice guy, but didn’t you notice that I’m a lot older than you? How are you even in medical school? I know what you are…you’re one of those young princes from overseas, aren’t you? From Romania maybe? You have such dark hair and eyes, like a gypsy.”

  He laughed. “I’m not sure if that was a compliment or if I should be offended, but you’re not even close.” He continued to chuckle as he pulled out his wallet. “I was born in Massachusetts, I assure you, and I’m older than you think.” He was also ten years older than his driver’s license indicated, but he couldn’t share that with her.

  She peeked at his date of birth. “Twenty-five? I’m twenty-five! You barely look eighteen, while I probably look thirty,” she groaned.

  He furrowed his brow. “Most people say I look at least nineteen, so I’m above the legal age to date. That’s why I showed you my license, though. No one ever believes me,” he said through a laugh, attempting to set her at ease. “And you don’t look thirty. Twenty-nine tops,” he said, grinning.

  She smacked his arm. “Hey, that’s just mean to kick a girl when she’s already feeling inferior.”

  “Maybe that’s why I can’t get a pretty young woman to have dinner with me.”

  “I’m sure you get turned down all the time. Not!”

  He chuckled softly. “Actually, you’re the first woman I’ve asked out in a year.”

  She released a non-believing puff of air. “I’m flattered. But honestly, I really don’t have time to date. And…” She paused, reaching into her backpack and pulling out her wallet too. She flipped it open and held it out for his inspection. “I have an eight-year-old daughter.”

  He stole a peek into the rearview mirror, then glanced at the picture of Janelle and her daughter. It appeared to be one of those shots taken at one of those photo booths in the mall. Her daughter had the same color hair, identical features, same smile. Even with the seventeen-year difference, they looked more like sisters than mother and daughter. “Nice try, but you failed to deter me. How about we study together at a coffee shop.”

  She released a long sigh. “You’re sweet—”

  “Oh, no…” He laughed harder than before. He felt so natural with her. “Not sweet, anything but sweet.”

  She smiled but then pointed to a diner at the end of the block. “You can drop me off at the back entrance.”

  Derrick pulled into the alley behind the structure, hoping she didn’t walk home from here. He stopped near the back door, next to an overflowing dumpster that reeked. It took everything he had not to pinch his nose. As with most people, the stench didn’t bother her. Few had a sense of smell as acute as his.

  “Thank you, Derrick. I really appreciate the lift.” She reached for her backpack and moved to get out.

  Not wanting her to leave, wanting her to know he wasn’t feigning an interest, he touched her arm. “Seriously, what time do you get off work?”

  With her eyes still cast on the door, her escape, she sighed softly. “Thank you for the ride, Derrick.” She opened the door and hopped down, closing it behind her.

  He waited while she walked inside, then pulled around to the front of the restaurant to read off the hours of service. Unable to keep the smile off his face, he drove away. “I’ll see you at ten, Janelle, even if you don’t see me.”

  Derrick sat on the ledge of one of the taller, more vacant rooftops in the city. Not a difficult thing to find in Somerville, but practically impossible to find in Back Bay where he lived. Most of the Victorian Brownstones and new condominium towers had converted the rooftops into getaways, whereas most of the Somerville properties were basic tenements.

  Janelle had finished with her last table fifteen minutes ago, but she was still sweeping and doing other menial tasks. He couldn’t help but admire a young woman who attended medical school, worked a full-time job, and then went home to an eight-year-old daughter. When did she find time to study?

  “Good night, Bob. Don’t forget. No Tuesdays or Thursdays, okay?” Janelle called as she walked out the back door of the diner—no escort.

  “Yeah, yeah. See ya, Elle!”

  Derrick smiled. Elle. Cute, but he liked Janelle. He watched as she rounded the building, following her track down the street. As she turned the corner, he took off in a sprint and leapt onto the next building so he’d be able to see where she headed.

  Janelle scanned the area cautiously, her hand stuffed inside her pocket. Probably holding the pepper spray. Good, but not good enough. He knew he wasn’t supposed to do this. The family had enacted the policy years ago. It was too dangerous to watch and protect, as his father and grandfather used to do, but how could he sleep at night knowing this young woman could become a statistic any day? He couldn’t.

  She stopped in front of a brick building but didn’t go inside. Instead, she glanced up and down the street as she pulled out her cell phone.

  Derrick peeked over the side of the building, making sure it was clear, then slid down the fire escape to the pavement. While he’d waited for her to get off work, he’d gone to his condo and changed into all black clothes, typical watching gear. No, he wasn’t supposed to watch, but sometimes his family had to when one of their own were committing crimes, something that hadn’t happened here in New England in years, but he’d helped other families across the country.

  A few seconds after her phone call, Janelle was still standing on the street. Did she have a date? he wondered. Is that why she turned him down?

  The door flung open, and a miniature version of Janelle bopped down the brick steps. Watching the happy child reminded him of playing Ringolevio with his cousins and brother. Base had always been the brick steps leading to the front door of his parents’ house.

  The child held up a paper for Janelle. “Look what I made for you today, Mommy.”

  Janelle accepted the black and white image. From the quick glimpse he’d caught, it appeared to be a charcoal drawing. “Wow. This is beautiful.” Janelle surveyed the street again, and then stooped in front of the young girl. “Honey, did you trace this?”

  The girl whipped her head back and forth. “Uh-uh.”

  “Baby, you have talent.”

  “Really?”

  Janelle squeezed her daughter’s shoulders. “Really, really. We need to get you to some art classes, baby. I’m impressed.” Janelle held the paper under the streetlight to get a better view.

  Derrick smiled. She wasn’t patronizing the child. If she hadn’t traced it, she was good.

  Janelle took her daughter’s hand and strolled down the street. “So, what else did you do today, Kristina?”

  How could he not protect this beautiful, loving mother and her child from the crime surrounding them? He thought about what had happened to his mother. She’d understand. His father would understand too. But they wouldn’t know. He wouldn’t get involved with Janelle, not that she’d let him anyway. He’d just be her friend.

  Derrick followed, but remained far away. If anyone approached them, though, he’d break every rule his family had made. He’d never stand by idly. Two blocks down, both of them stepped into another building. Now he knew where she lived, and it was only a few blocks from her work. Next time they spoke, he’d find out what nights she took off, which he suspected were typically Tuesdays and Thursdays, and he’d just privately escort her home. He could spare fifteen mi
nutes of his day to protect a woman who obviously didn’t have anyone else helping her.

  Nothing could ever come of them; his family would never approve. She was too old, or he was too young, they’d say. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he knew they’d be right.

  And then there was Tori. He knew what she wanted, but it’d be five years until she returned to the States permanently, and as much as he liked her—loved her—he wasn’t in love with her.

  He’d only seen Janelle walk into a room, and his soul had practically leapt out of his body. His father’d said he’d know. He’d said his soul would know whom he was destined to be with before he did. It wasn’t looks either. Although the two women were polar opposites, Tori was one of the most beautiful women on the planet. He’d never had a problem with wanting her, but he knew better than to screw around with her head. He had to wait until he felt something inside his head and heart, not his loins. Otherwise, her uncle and father would make sure he never felt anything again, he was certain.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “Morning,” Derrick called as Janelle stepped off the bus.

  Janelle turned. “Oh…umm…hi.” She shook her head. “Were you waiting for me?”

  Derrick shrugged, handing her a cup of Dunkin’. “I figured since you didn’t have time to have coffee with me, I’d bring it to you.” He took a pull off his water bottle.

  She rested her hands on her hips. “Well, where’s yours? How can we have coffee together if you already drank yours?”

  “Oh, I don’t drink coffee.”

  She laughed. “You’re a bit odd, Derrick.”

  He smiled in response. “So I’ve been told. Can I walk with you?”