Creatus

CREATUS

CARMEN DESOUSA

CONTENTS

A Note from the Author

Volume 1

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Volume 2

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Epilogue

Volume 3

Chapter 1

Before You Go

Acknowledgments

Books by Carmen DeSousa

Creatus

Copyright© Carmen DeSousa

ISBN: 9780989905008

www.CarmenDeSousaBooks.com

www.WrittenMusings.com

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 visit www.WrittenMusings.com for contact links.

This Special Edition Includes

Creatus (They Exist) – The Prequel

Creatus – Book One

A Sneak Peek at Creatus Rogue – Book Two

A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

Dear Friend,

This bonus edition includes the prequel to the Creatus series, Creatus (They Exist), Creatus Book One, and a sneak peek at Book Two, Creatus Rogue.

If you’ve already read Creatus (They Exist), please don’t think you’ve purchased the same book. Creatus (They Exist) is included in this special edition so that readers who haven’t read the prequel won’t miss anything.

While the Creatus series isn’t my first book, it’s technically my first born. Years before I started writing professionally, I wondered about all the myths that revolved around superheroes and monsters, questioned why, since the beginning of the written word, man has told stories—many similar—about sentient beings who are stronger than humans, live longer, and eat differently but have also managed to stay hidden. After much research, I believe I have figured out some of their secrets and discovered how they have managed to stay hidden.

If you haven’t read the prequel, which is now the first part of this book, remember it is a prequel, so it will not give away many of the secrets of the creatus race. And please know, creatus aren’t any of the mythical beings you’ve read about. Instead, it is from them we obtain our fairy tales—and our nightmares. They are the reason we believe in superheroes—and monsters. Because…they exist.

I hope you enjoy discovering their secrets as much as I loved writing about them.

Happy reading!

Carmen

VOLUME ONE

CREATUS

THEY EXIST

Prequel to the Creatus Series

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

Believe…

1

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 Medical Degree 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 U.S. and receive an accredited degree.

The double doors of the auditorium burst open, and a young woman barreled into the didactic session, her thick-heeled boots echoing through the great hall. 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, 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 want 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 that 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 the 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 used to this smart phone yet." She emphasized the smart in smartphone, then waved the gadget. 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? He couldn’t imagine her waiting at a bus stop in this weather. It hadn’t snowed for the last few weeks, but the temperature was barely above the freezing point.

She shook her head and did her best to wrap her coat tighter around her with one hand. No. Thank you. I appreciate it, but I don’t even know you.

Derrick Ashton. He extended a hand.

The young woman hesitantly extended a slender, creamy-skinned hand. Her gloveless hand looked so small and delicate in his larger, olive-skinned hand. Nice to meet you, Derrick. I’m Janelle Heskin. But still…I couldn’t possibly accept a ride from a stranger.

Derrick released her hand 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 look like you need help.

She laughed, shoving her hands deep into the pockets of her coat. 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 in 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, then darted around to his side.

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 cringed 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 who walk home alone at night.

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

Resisting commenting, he 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? Her cheeks flushed scarlet, making him wonder what she’d just considered. Certainly not the truth. She shook her head, obviously dismissing any strange notion that had passed through her head, then held up a finger in an ah-ha gesture. 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 so 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, clearly displeased.

Feigning insult, 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 laughed, 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.

He checked the side mirrors, then flashed another glance in her direction. 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, Derrick. 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. Instead of showing him her driver’s license, she showed him a picture of her and a young girl. 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 looked like one of those shots taken at a cheap photo booth in the mall. Her daughter had the same color of golden hair, identical delicate features, same soft smile. Even with the seventeen-year difference, they looked more like sisters than mother and daughter. Nice try, but you failed to deter me. If you don’t have time to date, how about we pick a day to study together at a coffee shop? You have to study, right?

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. Although the city had been undergoing changes, there was still an underbelly of society, which sometimes came with inexpensive housing. At one point, he remembered reading that Somerville high school was one of the oldest un-renovated schools in the nation.

He stopped near the back door, next to an overflowing dumpster that reeked of rotten food and other scents he didn’t want to think about. It took everything he had not to pinch his nose. As with most people, the stench didn’t seem to bother her. Few had a sense of smell as acute as his.

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

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 the hours of service. Now that he’d met Janelle, there was no way he would allow her to walk home alone.

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 a 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 in his neighborhood had converted their 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. The tired-looking old man waved a hand. Thanks for coming in! See ya, Elle!

Derrick smiled. Elle. Cute, but he preferred Janelle. He watched as she rounded the building, following her only with his eyes as she headed down the street. When 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?

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 was waiting 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 was committing crimes, something that hadn’t happened 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. Does she have a date? he wondered. Is that why she’d turned him down earlier?

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 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, 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 the little girl 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?

Derrick sighed as he watched them walk down the dark street. 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. The 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 minutes 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 would say. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he knew they would be right.

And then there was Tori. He knew what she wanted, but it would 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 had said that he would know. He’d said that 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 ever again, he was certain.

2

M orning, Derrick called as Janelle stepped off the bus outside the training hospital.

Janelle turned. Oh… Umm… Hi. Derrick, right? She shook her head. Were you waiting for me?

Derrick shrugged, holding out a cup of Dunkin’. She remembered his name. But how cute she was for trying to play it off.

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, still holding the cup of coffee out to her.

She rested her hands on her hips. Where’s yours? How can we have coffee together if you already drank yours?

Oh, I don’t drink coffee. He sure opened himself up for that one. He couldn’t tell her what he ate because then she’d run. Not that he drank blood. Well, not really. Some thought he did, but that was just a myth.

She laughed and accepted the cup, holding it up to her nose and inhaling. You’re a bit odd, Derrick.