She tilted her head. “A rogue?”
“Yes. A serial killer of the worst kind is terrorizing Boston—one of my kind. The police will never catch the perp; it is up to my family.” Derrick pursed his lips as if not wanting to reveal everything.
“And this rogue? You think he was the one outside my window last night?”
“Yes. He or she. Though, Vic swears it wasn’t her.”
“Why would you think a rogue would come after me?”
Derrick closed his eyes for a second and then swallowed loudly before answering her question. “To get back at me.”
Chapter Fourteen
Derrick scanned the trees, feeling eyes watching them. That was the answer. One of the creatus he’d banished for one reason or another was out for revenge. He’d never exiled anyone for a crime of this magnitude, but he’d sent many of their kind away for other indiscretions. Creatus, as humans, had their sins. The only difference was they didn’t put up with them. If you couldn’t live and work as a family, you were sent on your way. It’d been three years since he’d asked anyone to leave, and the family had run smoothly since. In fact, other than holidays, they rarely even had to gather.
“Get back at you for what?” Kristina asked, a crease between her eyes revealing her concern ran deeper than she’d let on.
Derrick curled her hand in his, really wanting to get her inside the vehicle where it was warm, but he could understand that the fresh air probably felt good in her condition. “We live in a sort of utopian society. My family was one of the first families to settle in Harvard. In fact, other groups had tried to mimic our lifestyle. I’ll take you to Fruitlands Museum someday. It’s popular because in the early 1840s, a faction attempted a society based on transcendentalist principles, which failed miserably. Although they failed for multiple reasons, their foremost mistake was the lack of food. They’d planted, but the harvest wasn’t plentiful, and since they were vegans in the truest since, even excluding milk and egg products, there was nothing to sustain them through the harsh New England winter. They’d refused to use animal labor and even restricted wool, since it came from sheep. They wore only linen clothes and canvas shoes. How they kept warm is beyond me. Imagine trying to work the fields?” Kristina shook her head. “Anyway, the experiment ended only seven months after it began.
“Our lifestyle now is different from when my family settled in the 1700s. We can live where we want, do what we want. But we still stick together. Mostly we work together, have our own schools throughout the world, and when there’s an issue, we pull together. Though we live by the law of the land, we also have our own government. And in our region of the world, which is all of New England, I’m what you might call the president, and Michael is the vice-president. If someone breaks the law—which aren’t much different from America’s laws—they’re on their own. So, unfortunately, I have enemies, I’m sure. But I’ve never had a rogue creatus.”
She scrunched up her nose. A habit Derrick found endearing for some reason. “And you think this rogue will try to murder me?”
He squeezed her hand, rubbing small circles on her soft skin. It was to comfort her, but also, he was checking that her temperature and heart rate had returned to normal. “I don’t know, but if you’ll bear with me while I find out whomever it is, I would be especially appreciative.”
She leaned against him, evidently feeling a little better. “That’s understandable.”
“I have to ask, Kristina,” he started, retaining a chuckle. “How is it a homicidal creatus doesn’t worry you, but the detective does?”
She peered up at him with those sparkling green and gold eyes. “Because I know you’ll protect me from a murderer. But I don’t know how I’ll protect you from the government. If what I said or did causes that detective to seek out your family…”
He pulled her closer, cutting off her words, a contented groan escaping his throat at her statement. Kristina loved and cared about him, regardless of what some of his kind were capable of. Then again, even humans perpetrated heinous crimes. Even he, unlike his brother, couldn’t condemn an entire species because of a few. “Thank you, my love. But you don’t have to worry about me. I, along with all of my kind, have managed to stay hidden for four thousand years. One detective isn’t going to bring us down.” He stood and held his hand out to his bride to be. “Let’s get you into some dry clothes.”
Kristina rose from the bench and leaned against him, allowing him to wrap his arm around her. He made his way to his Navigator, helping her up to the passenger seat. After locking her inside, he walked to the water’s edge and picked up the canoe.
A pebble hitting the water’s surface on the other side of the lake caught his attention, and he turned to the sound. He surveyed the surrounding trees for any sign of a threat, wondering if he should investigate while Kristina was locked inside the vehicle. Deciding against it, he walked toward the truck again. He hoisted the canoe on top of the SUV, strapping it down on both ends.
A branch cracked from the opposite direction, and he realized what had happened. He hadn’t imagined the pebble, just the origination of the toss. Nor had he imagined the eyes he felt on him. He turned to the sound. No creatus who knew him would attack while he was on guard, as they knew they couldn’t win. So he decided to let them know he was aware. Whispering low enough that Kristina couldn’t hear, he made his intention clear, “I know you’re there. And let me make myself perfectly clear. You touch her, and I’ll rip you apart limb by limb.”
“I’m coming for her, Derrick. I’m coming for Kristina.”
A shiver swept through Derrick, but he shook it off. The words were faint and garbled, so he couldn’t decipher if it was a man or a woman, but the threat was unmistakable. The rogue had made his intentions clear as well. They were at war.
Chapter Fifteen
Murphy O’Brian parked a block away from Kristina Heskin’s apartment for the third day in a row. The Grand Am he’d impounded was parked in the same spot it had been the day after it disappeared from the impound lot, along with all the documentation.
When he’d arrived to search the vehicle the next day, the operating manager of the facility not only didn’t have any clue the vehicle was gone, but also had no signs that there had been a break-in. When he searched the files, everything on Kristina was missing, as if he’d never submitted it as evidence.
It was past nine and he had to get to the station. A missing jumper was a low priority on the city’s list—especially when there were no frantic calls from family, insisting the police locate her—so he had to investigate on his off time. So far, nothing had changed in the last three days, and he’d been on her street every morning, during lunch break, and on his way home from work.
Once back at the station, Murphy fished through the expanding file folder he’d made eight years ago that he brought from home. He had a separate file for every year he’d been a cop, but he’d also made files for specific cases he’d worked. His wife had complained that even the IRS didn’t require documentation over five years. Courts had subpoenaed him to testify on crimes even older than that, though, and he liked having his handwritten reports. Now his home office had hundreds of the brown-recycled expanda files, but he’d brought this one he’d made eight years ago because of a common thread among many reports. He pulled the manila folder out with her name on it and the one with the vigilante cases.
Something had been bothering him ever since he’d read off Kristina Heskin’s name as the owner. An encounter he’d had with the girl when she was eight bubbled to the surface as if cued. For some reason, his brain tried to connect her situation with a vigilante case that had started eight years ago, but then had abruptly stopped three years ago. In every situation, the victim had claimed that in one minute they were being attacked, and the next, the attacker had disappeared. One woman had caught a glimpse under the light of a streetlamp. She’d said that a man dressed in black had pulled the man off the ground from above her. Even though she laughed while uttering the words, she remarked that it was as if Batman had pulled him off the ground.