Carmen DeSousa: Creatus

He touched her face again, loving the way her soft skin felt beneath his palm, hating that he was going to have to hurt her to help her. “I’m not going to lie to you; this isn’t going to feel pleasant. I need to set your shoulder before I can move you.” He removed his leather belt and held it in front of her mouth. “Bite down on this.”

Her eyebrows furrowed a bit, a flicker of fear lighting in her eyes, but she accepted the strap without uttering a word. Did she think he’d hurt her on purpose?

Derrick bent her arm at a ninety-degree angle, rotating her arm and shoulder inward, toward her chest. She clenched her teeth together on the leather, restraining her cries, for which he was grateful. It would kill him to see her in agony. Slowly, he rotated her arm and shoulder outward, keeping her upper arm stationary, coaxing it back into the shoulder joint.

She released her grip on the belt and exhaled in relief. “How did you do that?”

“I’m a doctor.” He scooped her up carefully and moved her into his vehicle. They needed to talk, but they couldn’t remain here. Someone might have seen her jump, and they’d be calling the police.

As if in shock, Kristina didn’t say anything else as he strapped her in the passenger seat. She just stared at him, her hazel eyes sparkling in the morning sunlight. Beautiful, mesmerizing, even though wisps of red lined the sclera. After grabbing a blanket out of the cargo area of his Navigator, he dropped behind the wheel and handed it to her. She accepted it without comment, wrapping it around her. He adjusted the temperature controls as he drove out of the parking space at the yacht club where he’d carried her up on shore. She still hadn’t spoken a word, so he drove off without explanation. Maybe she was in shock or ticked that he’d called her stupid. It’d been rude, he knew. But why in hell would she jump off a bridge?

Feeling her gaze burning through him, he cast a glimpse in her direction.

“You’re… real,” she finally sputtered, a quiver in her voice as she touched his arm. “You’re flesh and blood.”

Huffing out a chuckle at her words, he attempted to contain the nervousness of her accusation, as if she’d discerned there was something unusual about him. He didn’t look any different from any other twenty-eight-year-old male. He’d always assumed that once they met, he could convince her that she’d been mistaken as a child when she told the police officer that her dark angel had saved her. “Of course I’m real,” he said, attempting to add enough conviction behind his words so she wouldn’t question him further. He proceeded over the Tobin Bridge and took the exit toward the park underneath the tall structure on Chelsea’s side of the Mystic River. After he pulled into a space, he turned to the young woman he’d waited fourteen years to meet. “We need to talk.”

Her eyes widened in a mock gesture. “You think?”

Derrick exited the vehicle and walked around to the passenger side, opening the door, but Kristina didn’t get out. “Are you coming?” he said as softly as he could force himself. He’d saved her life for the fifth time by his count—of course, she only knew about two of the situations—and the first thing she chose to do was develop an attitude with him.

She assessed the deserted recreational area, her gaze raking across the vacant playground and picnic area, and then looked at him again. “Where are we going?”

“A morning stroll.” He motioned his head to the north, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of me,” he taunted, knowing she always tended to lean toward danger. He swore the girl thrived on putting herself in treacherous situations.

“I’m not afraid of anyone,” she retorted, a pronounced pucker of her lips detracting from the power of her words. She proceeded to move her legs to the side, but then cringed at the pain in her side.

“That’s what happens when you jump from a hundred and thirty-five feet.” He shook his head at her foolishness. “What in the world were you thinking?”

Ignoring him, Kristina inched herself out of the SUV and carefully pulled herself upright. Her good arm cradled her other, but she didn’t as much as let out a peep.

“We could stay in the car,” he offered quickly, a pang of guilt rushing through him. He was being too hard on her. He’d heard her proclamation, knew why she’d jumped. “But the sunshine will do you good. You picked a beautiful morning to kill yourself, so I thought it’d be nice if our official introduction was a little more memorable than just me saving you.” He held his hand out to her.

She scrutinized him, scrunching her eyebrows and crossing her arms, even though the movement caused her to wince again. “What’s your name?”

Ah, his spunky girl was coming to, he thought. He smiled, dropping his hand since she obviously wasn’t going to accept it. “Derrick,” he said, gesturing to the walkway. “Come on, it’s just a short walk.”

As they strolled along the boardwalk that bordered the Mystic River, a grouping of black-capped chickadees flew about them, searching for offerings, which brought a faint smile to Kristina’s face. A local obviously fed them regularly.

The sun was higher now, bathing Boston with a heavenly glow, providing a beautiful backdrop. Rays of sunlight reflected off the steel and glass buildings, sparkling like diamonds on the horizon. The City upon a Hill, as it had been dubbed, conveyed a quiet innocence in the morning. Of course, he knew better. Tonight, the vilest of society would be out to terrorize and take what wasn’t theirs. But for the time being, he was with the woman he’d protected from those beasts. The woman he’d also protected from his brother and best friend after she’d seen his antics in the alleyway so many years earlier.

He stopped at a bright sunny spot away from the playground, which would fill with children in the next hour. He aided Kristina to the lawn and then tucked the blanket around her. “I would have taken you to the hospital, but they can’t do much more than I did. All they can do is try to make you comfortable. And … they’d commit you for attempting suicide.” He shook his head again at the fact that she would do something so reckless, but held his tongue from uttering any more insensitive remarks. “Warm enough?”

She bobbed her head, but then released an uneasy breath tinged with discomfort. She crinkled her nose and then shook her head as if confused. “You look exactly the same.”

Derrick broke eye contact and stared off at the river. He figured she wouldn’t accept anything but a full explanation, but that was something he couldn’t give her yet. “No I don’t. It was dark in that alley,” he refuted, realizing she wouldn’t buy it, but knowing he had to try to convince her otherwise.

“But I saw you,” she insisted. “It’s been fourteen years, and you look the same age as me.”

He turned to her and sighed, wanting to tell her everything. Hoping she’d accept him. “I wanted to wait a few more years. You’re too young to know what you want, but you forced my hand.”

Her mouth turned up a fraction, obviously proud with herself, but she held a full grin at bay. “I always thought you were a vampire or something.”

He cleared his throat, resisting the urge to laugh. “Vampires don’t exist. The dead don’t walk. And if you don’t have a heart pumping blood through your body, you can’t do any of the things that supposed vampires do.” He raised his brow, inquiring if she caught the gist of his comment. He’d always wondered how books and movies portrayed vampires as sensual and erotic when they purportedly didn’t have the necessary body functions required to make such acts possible. You didn’t have to be a doctor to understand that if you don’t have a heart pumping blood through your body, vital sexual organs aren’t going to function properly.