Creatus Animus

1

Michael gasped for air as he stared into his brother’s fathomless dark orbs. If looks could kill, I’d be dead, he thought.

Not that Derrick’s gaze needed to do the killing, his massive hands were doing a fine job of squeezing the life out of Michael on their own.

Did you know? Derrick seethed, a rare occurrence for him. Derrick was usually the embodiment of calm, the reason the family had chosen him as the overseer. God, tell me you didn’t know, Michael! he continued, pinning him up against one of the thick beams in their barn, which doubled as Michael’s office when he was in Harvard and, of course, where the family gathered when there was a meeting or event.

Michael stared into his brother’s eyes, which were bloodshot with fury, the veins in his arm pumped from squeezing his neck. Of … course … not … Derrick, Michael pushed out one word at a time. It wasn’t easy to speak without having any air left in his lungs, but he had to convince his brother that he didn’t know anything about their uncle’s involvement in the murder of Janelle Heskin.

Michael didn’t try to shove his brother off him, though. Not that he could have anyway. At six-foot-six and two-forty, he had about two inches and twenty pounds on his older brother, but Derrick had always been stronger. And Michael wouldn’t fight him. The last time he’d really challenged him was the night that Janelle had been murdered. Michael had to live with the guilt that if he hadn’t delayed Derrick, Janelle might still be alive.

Derrick bit down on his lip so hard that the scent of blood permeated the little bit of air that Michael sucked in. Michael would have thought that Derrick’s self-inflicted pain would have lessened his grip on him, but still, his brother held firmly. How can I believe you?

Derrick’s raven-colored hair — the same color as his own, except for the fact that Michael had a hint of bronze and a slight wave from their Irish mother’s side of the family — was wet from sweat. Another rarity for Derrick. Nothing unnerved him.

Obviously realizing that he was killing him, Derrick released his hands just a fraction, but continued to hold Michael off the ground.

Michael gasped in a breath so he could speak. I know you can’t ever forgive me for that day, but you have to believe me. I would never do anything to hurt you. Damn, man, I’m your brother. How could you even think —

"And Matthew," Derrick said his name as though it were an oath, is our uncle. I never would have guessed that he was behind everything … and having Janelle killed. Why? Derrick finally released him completely, but then dropped his head into his hands. I told him … all of them. I’d never planned to have a relationship with Janelle. We were just friends. How in the hell am I going to tell Kristina that Janelle died because of me?

Michael rubbed his neck. Why would you tell Kristina anything about that?

Derrick looked up from his hands. See, Michael, you’re forty-five and yet, you still act like a child. His brother shook his head. No … not like a child. Like a man who’s never been in a relationship, a man who doesn’t realize that when you love someone, you tell them everything.

You’re right, Derrick. I don’t understand. Why would you tell your wife something that would hurt her, when it’d only serve to make you feel better?

What the hell is that supposed to mean? Derrick seethed, stepping toward him again.

Not wanting to be trapped by his brother’s deadly hands after he’d just released him, Michael stepped out of his reach. You’re upset. With good reason. But telling Kristina that Janelle was murdered fourteen years ago because of our uncle won’t change Kristina’s past. It’ll only get the guilt you’re feeling off your chest.

Wrong again, bro, Derrick said as he licked the blood off his lip. I’ll never lose the guilt. Every challenge Kristina has to deal with because she’s part of our family is my fault, because I befriended a human. I’ll never be able to forgive myself. At least up to this point, I thought I’d saved Kristina from the life she’d been living after Janelle died, but now I find out that I started that chain of events. If I’d never spoken to Janelle, Kristina never would have watched her die, wouldn’t have lived in foster homes, almost been raped … almost murdered … Derrick dropped his head again.

This time, Michael stepped forward and rested his hand on his brother’s shoulder. You can’t possibly blame yourself for all of that. Now Michael wished Derrick would blame him for delaying him the night Janelle had been murdered. The thought that his brother could blame himself for everything that had happened to Kristina for the last fourteen years pained him.

Derrick shoved Michael away and straightened up, then began pacing around the barn. Well, I do.

Michael gave up trying to keep stride with Derrick, who looked like a caged lion. Back and forth, he paced across the thick planks of tight-grained oak. But like the king of the jungle, each step his brother took was ghostly silent. Even the hand-wrought nails that had been face-nailed into the floor joists didn’t squeak as they did when Michael walked across them.

Taking his chances, Michael stepped into Derrick’s path again. You know, Derrick, you probably won’t believe this, but I have a feeling that you would have ended up with Kristina no matter what. I know you cared for Janelle, but you never looked at her the way you look at Kristina. And Janelle would have died fifty or sixty years before you … it was never meant to be. And knowing Kristina, she would have probably gotten into just as much trouble if Janelle had raised her. Maybe even more.

One side of Derrick’s cheeks actually inched up. That’s probably true.

But look at Kristina now, Michael quickly continued while he had Derrick’s attention, she’s back in school, she doesn’t drink or do drugs anymore, and …

Derrick narrowed his eyes. And, what?

"You know what … dude, I saw you at dinner. Heard you ask her if she’d felt something." Knowing someone could be listening, Michael mouthed his next words, She’s pregnant, isn’t she?

This time, Derrick couldn’t hide his smile. Yeah.

Congratulations, Michael whispered. You’re happy, right?

Of course, I’m happy. Kristina’s just so small. Mom isn’t a petite woman, and she had a difficult time. I can’t imagine Kristina giving birth to a creatus child. I was eleven pounds, almost double the size of an average newborn human.

But your baby is half of Kristina. When the time comes, if it’s too large, we’ll do a C-section. You’re worrying about something you have no control over.

Derrick ran his hands through his damp hair. I know. I can’t help it. As much as I love Kristina, as much as I can’t imagine living life without her, I’ll always worry. And now I have to wonder what might have —

Michael stepped forward again. "Brother, this isn’t you. Things happen. You know that. Nothing we do will change the past. Look at Mom. Through tragedy often comes hope. As much as I hate what those men did to Mom, neither you nor I would have been born."

Derrick blew out a breath. True. Since when did you become the old wise one?

Michael laughed. I’ve told you for years that I’m smarter than you. You just need to start listening to me. Exhaling a long breath, Michael rested his hands on his brother’s shoulders. I know you said you have, but once and for all, would you please forgive me? There’s no way I could have known.

Derrick usually controlled his bodily functions, but his heart rate suddenly spiked, as if he’d perceived a threat. On one condition … make them suffer — all of them.

As much as Michael wanted his brother’s forgiveness, he shook his head. I can’t promise that, Derrick, you know that. I have to abide by our laws, as do you.

Derrick’s eyes turned several shades darker than normal, and his cheeks filled with blood. I won’t. I’m stepping down as overseer, Mike. I can’t remain impartial, and I won’t allow Jonas or Matt to get away with this.

Think of Kristina, man. What do you think this will do to her?

The massive double oak doors of the barn swung open, the hand-forged strap hinges screeching in protest. Their father trudged across the old slats toward them. Think of what it would do to your mother … to the family. The day we start acting like animals will be the day humans start hunting us again. We have to stick together, son, Lyn said. "We can’t start a war among our own kind. Jonas will stand trial, and when I find my brother — which I will — he’ll stand trial, too."

Through everything that had happened, Michael hadn’t thought about how all of this had affected their father. Yes, Michael had been upset when he discovered Matt’s treasonous acts. But what if Derrick had committed crimes against the family … against him? Would he have been able to exact punishment on his own brother? How would his father be able to follow their laws when it came to sentencing his own flesh and blood?

Derrick gnawed on his already swollen lip. I’m sorry, Dad. That was callous of me. I wasn’t thinking.

For the first time Michael could ever remember, his father looked old. Lyn Ashton was only a hundred, which in human years was about fifty, but today he looked like a timeworn fifty-year-old human man, who had seen too much in his lifetime.

Lyn rubbed his hand over his mouth. Understandable, Derrick. Believe me, not a day has gone by that I haven’t wanted to kill the men who murdered your mother’s family. But two wrongs don’t make a right. We are civilized, and therefore, we will hold a trial.

Yes, sir, Derrick agreed, although hesitantly.

"And I won’t allow you or your brother to step down from your positions. The family needs you now more than ever. If the Canadian family has teamed up with Matt, we might not be able to conceal our existence for much longer. If they start a war with humans, we might get caught in the middle. Of course, I can’t imagine that Marcus or Matthew is okay with rogue kills. Marcus banished Tag years ago for his crimes against humans, and my brother has always been different, always stayed on the fringe, but he’s never been a killer."

Derrick shook his head. None of this makes sense, Dad. What could Matt be thinking?

Michael sat on the edge of his desk. He could answer that question. After all, he’d been the first person Matt had told about his plans to run for a political office within the U.S. government. Power. Matt wants power. My guess is that he’ll continue to run for State Attorney General. From there, who knows? But if he is elected, he’ll surround himself with like-minded creatus. Not to mention make sure that creatus are in every law-enforcement precinct in the state. If that happens, God help humankind.

2

Jonas whipped his head back and forth, as if doing so might enable him to see something other than gray shadows.

Lyn told you to stop doing that, Victoria chided in a whisper. Giving yourself whiplash won’t help you get your sight back.

You can leave, Vic, Jonas groaned. You don’t have to guard me night and day. Where would I go? It’s not like I can see even an inch in front of me.

Victoria sighed. I’m not here to watch you, Jonas. I’m here to protect you.

As if I care … What good am I now? Meghan deserves better. Just let Derrick kill me already.

I heard that, Meghan’s sweet country voice muttered. "I don’t want better or anyone else, Jonas. I want the man I married."

Jonas shuffled his way across the basement floor, to where he knew the bed was. He felt like an invalid. I’m sorry, lovely. I thought you were still sleeping.

His wife’s warm slender hands touched his face. I was. But your whining woke me up. He could hear the smile in her voice, but he couldn’t force himself to feel even a moment of joy. Not when he knew he had such a short time left.

He edged his body down next to her, wishing he could really lie with her, but Lyn had the two of them under twenty-four-hour surveillance. At least with Vic here, he didn’t feel the animosity that rolled off Reece Buckley. As though he’d fallen for the NSC agent’s daughter on purpose. The last thing Jonas had planned was to fall for a part-human, part-creatus girl while he was trying to make the world a better place for creatus. Besides, if Reece hadn’t come into the picture, he was pretty sure that Vic and he would have fallen for each other.

But, just like love, he couldn’t choose whom he fell for. And now he loved Meghan more than life itself. He also loved her so much that if somehow the council didn’t sentence him to a death penalty, he didn’t want to condemn her to a life with a blind man. He was certain that, with the small fraction of creatus blood that ran through her veins, she’d be able to fall again. If Derrick had his way, Jonas probably wouldn’t live through the week anyway.

Death by lethal injection was certainly in his near future. Not that he’d killed anyone with his own hands, but his mission of freeing the creatus population had enticed his brother, Ry, and others in their faction to kill humans. The creatus government didn’t tolerate murder, and there was no such thing as a life sentence. If a creatus was convicted of homicide, the penalty was death.

According to Vic, Lyn had sent out word that all creatus who were able should come. Lyn Ashton had said that it wouldn’t be fair if only the creatus family in New England voted. Instead, he had opened up the trial to creatus everywhere.

The only problem with that, though, was that most of the creatus who were on his side wouldn’t show for fear that it was a trap to arrest them all. Tag definitely wouldn’t show. Especially not after trying to kill him, not to mention his crimes against humans. He wondered if Tag’s father, Marcus Beaumont, would be holding a trial for his son.

Meghan draped her arm over him, pulling him closer. Stop worrying, Jonas. Everything’s gonna be all right.

I sure wish I could be as positive, darlin’.

The hatch above the basement door screeched open and seconds later, footfalls caused the worn wooden steps to creak in protest.

Jonas waited for a familiar voice, wondering if it was time to go. Instead of someone talking, he heard just a wisp of lips as they touched each other. The sound of a kiss, which meant it was probably Reece. Jonas closed his eyes, hoping the man would think he was sleeping. Maybe Victoria and Meghan wouldn’t tell him otherwise. The longer he could stay with Meghan the better. It was easy to think that you would rather die than live; it was a totally other thing to be able to handle it. He just hoped that when the time came, he would be the man Meghan had married, not a sniveling coward.

Hi, Dad, Meghan said, obviously not being able to read his mind that he wanted to stay quiet.

Hey, baby, Reece drawled back. You sleep okay?

The warmth of his wife’s arm disappeared as Meghan sat up. As best as I could, considering we’re being held prisoner in someone’s basement.

I understand, Reece continued. This isn’t a good situation for any of us. I’d much rather be in some tropical locale, soaking up some rays.

The bed creaked as Meghan got up. Did you call Gran? Let her know I was okay?

Yeah, she’s pretty upset. You need to call her.

What would I say, Dad? I’d have to lie. She doesn’t know I was kidnapped by your supervisor at the National Security Council of all people. She thinks I ran away. And how can I tell her that I got married … but that I might not ever be able to introduce her to my husband? It’s not … fair.

Meghan’s voice broke on her words, so Jonas carefully rolled out of bed and made his way toward her voice.

Right here, babe. Meghan’s hand touched his, and Jonas pulled her into his arms.

I’m so sorry, Jonas whispered into her ear. Please don’t cry. You’re right. I don’t know how, but everything will be all right. I was such a fool. We should have left town when you asked me to.

Meghan squeezed her arms around him, and Jonas wished beyond all hope that his words could somehow be true. If he could change anything in his life, he never would have agreed to go to that apartment building for Matt Ashton.

And that was saying a lot. Many instances in his life he’d love to change: jumping off the roof in front of his father, which eventually caused his mother to break his father’s neck to protect him and Ry. The death of his brother, then his mother … But if he were honest, if he could only pick one instance, if he could only turn back the hands of time once, he’d change whatever act would keep him with Meghan.

Jonas continued to caress his wife’s hair, but looked in the direction where he knew Victoria and Reece were sitting. Has Lyn called? Have they set a time for the trial?

Reece licked his lips. Tomorrow night, six o’clock at the Ashtons’.

Jonas shook his head. Didn’t think they’d waste any time. Too much of a chance that someone might spring me. He laughed without humor. Don’t suppose I could talk the two of you into letting me and Meghan leave?

Reece gulped. It was unnerving to Jonas how sharp the rest of his senses had become since he’d lost his sight. His hearing had always been superb. All creatus had advanced eardrums that vibrated four receptor cells, but what really made their hearing stand out was their ability to detect low and high frequencies from twenty to three hundred kilohertz.

Victoria released a long shaky breath. You know I would if I could … I’m sorry, Jonas. I really am sorry. You know you’ve always been a good friend of mine. I just can’t believe —

Not wanting to hear Victoria cry, Jonas cut her off, It’s okay, honey, I made my choices. He’d never heard her cry. Not once in the thirty-some years they’d known each other. They’d been friends since grade school, since his mother brought Ry and him to New England. He’d tried forever to get her attention, but as she’d said, they’d always just been friends.

Meghan pulled her head back from his fingers. Dad … since we only have one day left, could you please give Jonas and me some privacy?

I — Reece started, but Victoria must have pressed her fingers over his lips, because he stopped speaking.

It’s okay, Reece, Victoria said. Just because you were able to break out of here, doesn’t mean that they will be able to. Even if they could, we’d hear them.

It’s not them breaking out of here that I’m worried about, Reece continued. What if that Tag guy … or one of his goons tries to get to Meghan. You heard all the stuff she told us.

Jonas furrowed his brow as he listened, as if that would help him. He missed not being able to decipher someone’s comment from their body language and facial clues. Right now he’d like to see the expression on his wife’s face. Would like to know why she hadn’t told him about whatever Reece was referring to. He’d told Meghan plain and simple that if anyone ever hurt her again, he’d kill them.

And blind or not, no one would be able to stop him, especially not Tag.

3

The night and day had soared by for Meghan, and it was now time to go, her father had told her. He’d said that Jonas and she could have a few extra minutes alone before they left, though.

Somehow,