Creatus (Creatus Series) (16 page)

Chapter Twenty-eight

“Which dress should I wear tonight?” Kris called to Derrick, who was cleaning up for dinner. She laughed internally, remembering she didn’t need to yell.

“The white one. The restaurant is very formal,” he responded.

Kris pulled out the tea-length dress Derrick had helped her pick out this afternoon. She felt as though she was looking for a prom dress. He kept picking out formal wear with lace and silk, dresses that were appropriate for weddings and balls, not dinner at a ski lodge. But, he’d been here before, he’d said, so she trusted he knew what he was looking for.

When she’d seen the price, she’d shoved it back on the rack. But he pulled it back out, insisting she try it.

Kris twirled in front of the mirror, realizing she looked like a bride, not a teenager going to a ball. She decided to pull up her hair instead of leaving it long and straight as she usually preferred. It was official; she looked like Cinderella heading off to the ball. “All I need now is a fairy godmother to bring the pumpkin coach”, she chuckled under her breath, then clamped her hands over her mouth.

“I won’t do?” Derrick said through a laugh.

“That’s not fair—” A knock on the door broke off her complaint.

“Wait!” Derrick yelled, stopping her. He darted out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. “I’ll get it.” He shooed her
away.

Only the fact that he looked so good in nothing but a towel kept her from arguing. And then she wondered,
Was he worried
?
Did he think someone had followed them
?

Derrick grabbed his wallet off the credenza as he opened the door. He exchanged a tip for a garment bag and a box, seemingly unconcerned that he was standing in the doorway covered only by a towel. The giggle that escaped curbed her irritation, until he turned and stared her down. Then she just flashed him
a “what the heck are you up to” look.

After closing the door behind the room attendant, Derrick disappeared into the bathroom again, so Kris continued to get ready.

A few minutes later, he stood behind her dressed in a black and white tux, holding a box. “This is for you.”

Kris appraised him before lifting the lid. “Wow. You dress up nice. I’ve never seen you in anything but khakis.”

He smiled. “As do you. Let me see.”

Kris twirled in front of him, reveling as his eyes
gobbled her up. They’d better get to dinner before they wrinkled another dress.

“Beautiful, absolutely stunning.” He leaned forward and placed a delicate kiss on her lips. “You’re only missing one thing.” He lifted the lid of the box, revealing a bouquet with a tight cluster of about eighteen cream-colored roses surrounded by lemon leaves and a white ribbon hand tie. It was simple and elegant.

“Derrick,” she gasped in a breath, “that’s a wedding bouquet?”

“I couldn’t manage a pumpkin coach, but I figured you deserved a wedding night, my love.” He held out his arm for her. “Shall we?”

Kris fought to retain the tears that threatened to overtake her, which would ruin her makeup. Unable to speak through the emotion choking her words, she nodded and accepted his arm.

Derrick trailed them to the elevator without uttering a word and then pressed the button for the top floor. When it stopped, he led her to a private room decked out like a wedding reception. A crystal chandelier and candelabras cast subtle light over a
lone table covered with a white tablecloth, a centerpiece of more roses off to the side, and two beautifully adorned chairs with gossamer and ribbon. Soft piano music played in the background as moonlight streamed in through the glass windows, which once again offered a magnificent view of the mountain.

A host greeted them, escorting them to the table set just for them.

“Oh my…” Kris fanned her eyes. “This is amazing.”

Derrick pulled out her chair and helped her scoot forward. “I’m glad you approve.”

“How did… you do all this?” Her voice cracked, faltering with the love she felt enveloping her as though it were a tangible ribbon, interwoven through both of their souls, cinching them together forever.

He moved his head back and forth only slightly. “Every girl should have a fairy
-tale wedding, even if it’s just for two.”

Kris leaned forward as he took his seat. “This is so much better than a formal wedding, Derrick. Thank you.”

Her husband dipped his head. “My pleasure, my bride.” Reaching across the table, he took her hand in his. “Thank you for marrying me, Kristina. I plan to make all your wishes come true.”

She smiled. “You already have.”

Derrick had taken it upon himself to pre-order their dinner, so there were no inquiries. He’d ordered her Filet a la Oscar, and she’d thought she’d died and gone to food heaven. She’d never thought of pairing filet with crabmeat, asparagus, and béarnaise sauce, but the result was delectable. It panged her that he could never sample such fine sauces. And pizza, even with the incredible food she’d eaten with him, she was starting to crave pizza. She needed to see if she could sneak off and get a fix one of these days. There had to be somewhere in the hotel that served it.

After dinner, Derrick twirled her across the floor, teaching her all types of dances. She started to ask where he learned all the styles, but then remembered he’d been alive since the sixties, so he’d seen a lot. And his father had been alive since the early nineteen hundreds. It baffled her to think that he’d actually been alive during World War I.

As they danced, the waiter cleared their plates, and when she needed a respite, they returned to their table to see a wedding cake for two in the center of their table.

Kris giggled as she sat. “I’m starting to think I’m dreaming, Derrick. You may have to plant one of those mind-blowing kisses on me again.”

“Gladly,” he offered, pulling her out of the chair and into his arms before she could blink. He spun around in a circle, kissing her, unconcerned with the onlooking staff.

Kris dipped her head to his ear when he finally released her lips. “Okay. I believe again.” She glanced around to the door. “Aren’t you concerned they’ll wonder how you did that?”

He laughed. “Kristina, you weigh all of a hundred and twelve pounds. I’m sure even a human man of my size could do this.”

She crinkled her nose. “How do you know how much I weigh?”

“My senses, all of them, are ultra perceptive.”

“Hmm
… all of them?”

“Everything.”

She thought about that for a second, her brow furrowing. That could be uncomfortable at times.

He smiled. “No need to worry. You’ll get used to not talking to yourself.” He
set her down and walked her to her chair.

“I was thinking of other things actually.”

“Such as?”

“Your sense of smell. I’ll be concerned.”

He laughed full and deep and nuzzled her neck, inhaling a deep breath. “No need. I think you smell incredible. All the time,” he clarified.

They finished their cake, and then Derrick trailed her around the hotel again, offering if she wanted to dance in the nightclub. She refused, wanting to
return to their room. She hadn’t got her fill of him yet today, and she was starting to get tired. Derrick never seemed to tire.

When they made it back to the room, Derrick seemed to be content to sit on the loveseat. For a long while, they just snuggled and stared at the fire. His fingers trailed over her skin, seeming to memorize every square inch of her body. Occasionally he would plant delicate kisses on her hand and neck.

“Derrick,” Kris asked, pulling his hand to her lips. “What happens if I die?”

He huffed out a breath. “What kind of question is that to ask on your wedding night?”

“I’m curious. Can you
fall
twice?”

He shook his head.

“So if I die, you’ll be alone for a hundred years?”

His eyes narrowed, wondering she guessed how she knew his age and how long he’d live. He’d hinted, but he’d never come out and told her directly. “Yes. Though, it is unlikely I’d live that long without you.”

Her eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

“It is from creatus that humans coined the term,
Died of a broken heart
; they just don’t know it. When you see a story on the news where a couple has been together for sixty to seventy years and they die within days of each other, often it is one of us; though, they are usually much older than humans know. Creatus simply do not want to go on living after their partner dies, and if they are young, they’ll normally leave the family and become a hermit. Again the reason you hear stories of the old lady or man in the neighborhood who never comes out of their house.”

A moan escaped her throat. “What if he—”

Derrick raised his finger to her lips. “He’s not. Let’s drop this discussion please.”

Kris nodded and rested her head against his chest, swiping away a tear. She’d have to be extremely careful so that nothing ever happened to her. Because the thought of Derrick living in pain—she simply couldn’t imagine putting him through that agony. Their connection was so strong now
… the thought of him ripped from her life. She couldn’t imagine the anguish.

Chapter Twenty-nine

Vic sat next to Jonas on the high-rise building’s ledge, lazily surveying the city, not really concerned with what was going on. Even sitting next to the wonderful specimen of a man, all she could think about was Derrick, wondering if he and Kristina had really fallen. Maybe he’d lied to protect her from the family. As cool as the night air was, she couldn’t help but feel the heat radiating off Jonas’ body. How wonderful it would be to want another man. To have the comfort of a hot body on a cold night. Even though she was only forty-four—young by creatus standards—she wanted to fall. It was every woman’s dream, well, creatus women anyway. Meeting that perfect man, gazing into his eyes, and knowing that you’d be together always. She shook the ridiculous thoughts from her head. If it hadn’t happened with Derrick, a man she’d loved for years, how would it happen with anyone?

She turned to Jonas, who’d been content to sit beside her quietly it seemed, even though he had to know how she felt about all this. “Why did you come back, Jonas?”

He lifted his eyes without lifting his head. His catlike orbs sparkled in the limited light from the surrounding buildings; he’d always had the prettiest eyes. Even though they were a dark sable, they had flecks of gold in them. “I heard Derrick finally made a decision,” he answered easily, as though he’d been prepared for her question.

She narrowed her brows. “A decision on what?
Watching
?”

“
Watching
?” he repeated, spurting out a laugh. “No. I can
watch
and get into a fight anywhere. I didn’t need to come back to New England to
watch
. Besides, humans are hardly worth battling. Even when they have a weapon, they’re usually poor fighters. And unlike our grandparents, I have no desire to protect them.”

Vic flinched. She hadn’t believed that Jonas was watching just so he could fight, but his comment sounded as though maybe he had been.

He rested his hand over hers, and she immediately withdrew it, tending to an itch behind her head.

“So, what, then?” she prodded, even though she now had her suspicions, wondering why she’d felt the need to remove her hand. Hadn’t she been thinking she’d track him down? Hadn’t she said she needed to move on?

“A
Kristina
decision,” he said. “I knew once Derrick made his choice, you would be open to someone else. I couldn’t compete with him around for some reason.” He shook his head. “What is it about him anyway? Why are you drawn to him?”

She shrugged. Honestly, she didn’t know, and now that Derrick had made his decision to move on, her heart should feel free to pursue other men, but she didn’t feel as if their relationship was real. There was still a chance. If Kristina were out of the picture—

“Victoria…” Jonas’ voice pulled her from her thoughts.

She hated the name Victoria. It sounded weak. Derrick had only said it when he was mad at her or when he pleaded with her.

“Stop it, Victoria. Look at me,” Jonas demanded.

Vic huffed out a breath. “What?”

“Stop thinking about him. He’s on his honeymoon in Mount Washington.”

She whipped her head to him. “How do you know where they went?”

“My brother and I overheard them. They were going to get married in Manchester, and then he said there was a nice place he’d take her. Where else would they have gone?” He stopped, obviously taking in her hurt expression. “Oh, that’s right. You two used to ski there. I forgot.”

She bit down on her lip until she tasted blood. “You forgot nothing, you twerp. Besides, it wasn’t just the two of us. We all went there as a group.”

He wiggled his eyebrows at her. Jonas could be so maddening sometimes. “Yeah, but I seem to recall Derrick and you curled up on the chairs outside by the fire pit.”

Vic punched him in the shoulder. “Only because he was drunk. We only succumbed to our desires when he was drunk…” she trailed off, her heart wrenching. He hadn’t used her, she knew. They had used each other. They were the right choice for each other.
He would have chosen her if it weren’t for Kristina.

Jonas grabbed her fist and clutched it between his hands. “And you call me a twerp. Come on, Victoria. Let’s get out of here. I don’t need a drink to want you. What are we waiting for anyway? The rogue isn’t going to strike. You heard Derrick; he’s after him.”

She sighed. “It’s not going to happen, Jonas.”

“Why the hell not? Who else you pining for? Michael?”

A burst flew out of her mouth. “What on earth would give you that idea? We’re just friends. We’d kill each other as a couple. We hate each other’s quirks more than I hate Derrick. And I hate Derrick a lot right now,” she emphasized.

Still holding onto her fist, he pulled her toward him. “Michael doesn’t hate you. Not even close. He’s wanted you since we were in high school. We’ve both wanted you since we were teenagers. But you can’t seem to imagine yourself with anyone but Derrick. If you could just see—”

Vic pulled her hand free. As much as she wanted to flee, she couldn’t make herself leave, but she didn’t feel comfortable with him holding her hand. She knew she had to forget Derrick. And she had always liked Jonas… but Michael? She’d never seen it. She’d actually always thought Ryan was interested in her.

Seeming to witness her emotions, Jonas moved closer.

No, she couldn’t. She shot her hand up in front of her, creating a barrier. “I’ll think about it, Jonas. I really will. But I’m not ready.”

He threw his head back, sighing dramatically. Always so melodramatic. Maybe that was what she liked about Derrick. He was a steady rock, rarely easy to upset. In fact, the only time she’d ever seen him upset was over Kristina. It was Derrick’s passion she admired—craved. Her soul longed for a man to want her like that. The other men were moody, irritable, childish.

Jonas
, she rolled his name around in her head. He’d always been in the back of her mind. She’d always found him attractive. But somehow, she’d never pictured him as a husband, as him wanting anything other than a fling. Of course, that was common for creatus men. If they didn’t take things too seriously, they didn’t risk falling. Even though they all wanted to find the perfect partner, they were still men, and they still liked to play.

“I’m sorry,” she said, patting his hand platonically, letting him know she wasn’t against his touch entirely.

Jonas had been leaning back, his eyes shuttered, but he opened one eye and smiled. “It’s okay,” he said, turning his hand over so hers rested in his. His thumb made a small circle on the back of her hand, and Vic was surprised to feel a faint flutter inside her. Jonas exhaled a deep breath and stared into her soul. His eyes looked lighter than before, almost a deep dark hazel as he studied her. And though he had the silky raven hair, his and Ry’s had more curl than most creatus. He moved his hand up her arm and she didn’t move this time. “But I really thought we had something before I left. My brother said you mentioned me in the meeting, said you were going to come find me. Was that just to get Derrick riled up?”

She nodded. “I was going to call you, but yes, I was trying to rile him up.”

Without warning, Jonas hopped to his feet, huffing out a breath as he marched away. “See ya ’round, Victoria,” he drawled in that seductive southern tone that she’d always liked. Few creatus had accents, but Jonas’ family had lived in South Carolina before moving here. She remembered the first time she’d seen him when they were in middle school. A new boy, someone who hadn’t known her since she was a toddler. She’d been intrigued from the first time she’d cast her eyes on him, even though he’d paid her little notice. Typical of boys and girls that age, regardless of the species.

“Wait!” Vic jumped up and landed in front of him, blocking his exit to the stairwell. “Don’t leave.”

He shifted on his feet. “Why? It’s obvious that there’s nothing for me here, as I’d hoped.”

Vic leaned in, her eyes closing, hoping he wouldn’t embarrass her by leaving her hanging.

Immediately, Jonas wrapped his arms around her, tugging her to his chest. She’d always known he was strong, and for a second, she realized he was too strong. If she’d wanted to escape his embrace, it didn’t feel as if she could. His heart pounded loudly in his chest, a rare occurrence. Most creatus were experts at hiding their emotions. His mouth clamped over hers, demanding and powerful, taking what he wanted. At first, his forcefulness surprised her, and she wanted to retract, but then his lips softened, coaxing her to join in the kiss.

Seemingly without her consent, her body melted against his, accepting him, reveling in the feeling that a man wanted her, really desired her.

But then, Michael popped into her head. They’d been best friends since they were children. Even as she kissed Jonas, moving her hands through his silky hair, traveling over his muscular arms, she couldn’t get the image of Michael out of her mind.

Michael’s words from the other day that he wanted a strong woman rang through her head.
Had he meant her? Had Michael wanted her?