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Morvicti Blood (A Morvicti Novel Book 1)

Page 25

by Lee Swift


  Dr. Wilson nodded and winked, and in a louder tone replied, “Bollocks. This test is going to take me longer than I thought. I’m missing some things for my fast-track process. I’ll have to use a more traditional method. At least five hours, but it might be morning before we have real proof.”

  Austin sent him a thumbs-up.

  The old man wasn’t going to win any Oscars, but he might have bought them some more time.

  Angelique whispered, “What do we do now?”

  The house phone rang, startling them.

  “Do you mind answering that, Angelique,” Dr. Wilson said. “I’m too busy with the testing.”

  “Sure,” she answered. “Hello, Dr. Wilson’s residence.”

  “You sound even lovelier than I imagined, my dearest,” a clearly, digitally-altered voice said. “If you want to see Michael alive again, come to the staff entrance of the British Museum. Now. It’s unlocked for you. I’ve left you more instructions inside.”

  The call ended. “We’ve got to go to—”

  The doorbell rang.

  Austin bolted out of the lab and down the stairs.

  She grabbed the pistol and ran to the landing, allowing her a clear view of the front door below. Gripping the gun, her thoughts were about Michael. No matter who was outside they needed to be dealt with quickly. She had to get to the museum. She had to get to Michael.

  Austin opened the door carefully.

  A man smiled. “Is Dr. Wilson—”

  Without a word, her brother pulled the guy inside by the shirt collar and shut the door. “Who are you?”

  “Don’t shoot.” The frightened man’s eyes fixed on Austin’s machine gun. “Please. Where is Dr. Wilson?”

  “I am here,” Dr. Wilson answered, moving next to her at the top of the stairs. “Austin, he is the tech I called. Mr. Reeves, thank you for coming.”

  Austin lowered the gun. “Sorry for scaring you.”

  “What’s this about?” The man’s eyes were wide and his voice shook.

  “I’m sorry about the late hour and the cloak and dagger, John, but what we are going to work on is quite sensitive.”

  Reeves smiled. “I can’t wait to get to work, sir.”

  “We have to go, Austin. Michael is supposed to be at the museum.” She quickly rattled off what she had heard on the call from The Ripper, and then handed the Glock to Dr. Wilson. “Be careful. We’ll be back as soon as we can.”

  “Go. John and I will handle things here.”

  She nodded, running down the stairs.

  “Don’t forget to use your words carefully in the lab,” Austin said, still standing by the front door. “That cell is still plugged in.”

  “John and I will be careful. I will tell him everything that is going on.”

  “I don’t know what that might be but it seems very important and very exciting.” John passed her on the stairs. “I hope I didn’t detain you too long when I showed up, miss.”

  “You didn’t. Just help Dr. Wilson. Please.”

  Reeves smiled. “I will.”

  She and Austin rushed out the door.

  As they ran, she told him about the call.

  “It could be a trap, Sis.”

  “I don’t care. I have to try.”

  “We both do.”

  They got to the staff entrance. The door was unlocked. Why aren’t the alarms going off? Where are the guards?

  Inside they saw a note with The Ripper’s handwriting taped to a door. “I’ve cleared the way for you, my love. A gift awaits you through these doors.”

  Michael? Please, God, let him be here.

  She followed Austin, who was in full SEAL mode with his gun in hand. They entered the museum’s dimly lit loading area. The space was packed from floor to ceiling.

  Was The Ripper leading them on a foolish and hopeless pursuit?

  They hurriedly checked every shelf, crate, and box. Nothing.

  Time was ticking away.

  She spotted another door. “Over there, Austin.”

  When they went through it, they found a smaller room.

  In the center was a very large crate. Open.

  As they carefully approached it, she could barely breathe.

  When they were close enough to see what was inside the crate, all hope drained away.

  Instead of Michael, they saw the two open sarcophagi of the headless mummies. On top of one of the mummies was a package.

  Austin grabbed the box. This time the envelope was taped to the outside of the package. He opened it and read the next letter from the resurrected monster of 1888.

  Angelique,

  I know this is so much to digest in such a short time, my sweet, but you have disappointed me. I grow weary of hearing you call out Michael’s name.

  Return this to Dr. Wilson’s home. I’ve left another gift for you there.

  With all my love,

  Jack

  CHAPTER 64

  11:02 PM

  As Austin and Angelique sped out the front door, Dr. Wilson turned to John. “Follow me.”

  They walked into the lab.

  “John, these boxes contain samples we are going to test tonight.”

  The tech smiled broadly. “Incredible. This is so thrilling.”

  “Yes it is.” In all the excitement he had forgotten to take his medication so his Parkinson’s was giving him fits. His hands were shaking more than usual. He placed the pistol Angelique had given him on the counter. “We have much to do.”

  “Yes we do, Dr. Wilson.” John grabbed the Glock and pointed it at him.

  For the second time this night, Dr. Wilson stared down a barrel of a gun. “What are you doing, John? Put that down.”

  “Although I do like the name John,” Reeves said grinning, “I prefer my friends to call me Jack, Dr. Wilson.” He brought out a knife with his free hand.

  Dr. Wilson’s knees buckled, and he grabbed his cane. “Jack? You are him?”

  The Ripper nodded.

  He lifted his cane slightly, wondering if he could hit the bastard hard enough to knock the gun out of his hand.

  The Ripper frowned, kicking the cane out of his grasp and to the floor.

  He had to lean on the counter to steady himself.

  “Don’t even think about it, old man. Ha, ha. That’s funny.” The frown slid into a smile so quickly that he could have blinked and missed it.

  “What is funny?”

  “You’re in your seventies. Compared to me you’re the youngster. I was born well over a century and a half ago.”

  “What do you want with me?” His whole body trembled with fear.

  “Don’t you know? We are working together to get your hypothesis proven.”

  Gathering the remainder of his courage, he asked, “Then why are you holding a gun on me, Jack?”

  “Because I know you don’t trust me.” The killer pointed to the mobile phone on the charger. “I’ve been listening for some time.” He chuckled.

  Pushing down his fear, he looked Jack straight in the eyes. “You’re much smarter than that first note of yours made you appear.”

  The killer grinned. “I knew you would eventually get that first letter to the police and the newspapers would end up publishing it. I had to write your note in the same style as my earlier letters from 1888 so that everyone would realize I had returned to London. Back then I was barely literate. But with the help of my mentor, David Bathry, my command of the pen is exceptional now. The other notes I was certain would never make it to the media, so I wrote them correctly. I’m so clever, aren’t I? Angelique is a very lucky girl.”

  He’s totally insane. “She and her brother will be back any moment.”

  “Oh, I know how much time I have, Dr. Wilson. But you’re right. We have to get down to business. Ready?”

  “I’ll need my cane,” he said.

  “You can walk fine without it.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “To wake up David Bathry.”

&
nbsp; “Your mentor?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where is he?” he asked.

  “Here. You know him as David Bell.”

  “I do not know him,” he lied, hoping to stall the killer long enough for Austin and Angelique to return.

  “You forget, Dr. Wilson. I’ve been listening. Austin placed Bathry in your cold storage room.” The Ripper pressed the Glock to his chest. “Take me there now.”

  “Of course.” How the hell am I going to make it out of this situation alive?

  They walked into the cold storage room. Dr. Wilson saw Austin’s handiwork. Even if Jack were able to wake Bathry, who looked absolutely dead, the monster would have a time getting that duct tape off of the man.

  “Hold out your hand palm up, Dr. Wilson.”

  “Why?”

  Jack’s face darkened. “Do as I say.”

  He complied, presenting his hand and reminding himself that he had survived Guatemala. Maybe I can survive this too. But he didn’t truly believe he would.

  The Ripper sliced his palm with the knife. “Sorry about that, my friend, but I need human blood.” Jack took his hand and brought it to Bathry’s cold lips.

  “If you mean to kill me, just be done with it.” He thought about Gita.

  “How can you say that? You and I want the same thing. The world needs to know the truth. Just borrowing a little of your blood, is all. I’m not sure it will work. Bathry may have slipped into slumber, or as you call it so scientifically—hyper-hibernation. You’ve been right all along, Dr. Wilson. How does that feel after being ridiculed for so long by your peers?”

  “It would feel better without a gun to my head, Jack.”

  The Ripper laughed. “A sense of humor. I like that about you. What you didn’t know was your hypothesis only scratched the surface of things. The Morvicti have been running the world for centuries. I’m hoping you’ll get a demonstration of how they accomplish that momentarily.”

  If I can keep him talking long enough, maybe Austin and Angelique will return. “There’s one thing I don’t understand, Jack. Why just blood? Why not flesh, too?”

  “For a human you are quite astute. A great question.” The monster seemed almost proud. “The Morvicti’s laws are foolish and unjust. They criminalize the eating of flesh. Why? Because of their fear of being exposed. Humanity is a lower species, yet the Morvicti cower in the shadows, trying to hold onto their power.”

  “It seems to me they have a great deal of power and influence, Jack. You and I are on the same side,” he said, hoping the madman would not slice his throat. More time. That’s what I need. “They are the ones who have been making sure my research never sees the light of day.”

  “But I will make sure its broadcast throughout the world. That will be their undoing. With my samples you will have the proof you need by tomorrow morning. You will take it to Andrea White at the BBC immediately. I’m certain she will be thrilled to break this story to the world.”

  “Of course.”

  “I know you need an incentive. How about this? If you don’t take the evidence as I’ve instructed I will kill one of your techs every hour until you do. I am sure you know I don’t make idle threats.”

  “I will do as you say. I swear.”

  The Ripper smiled. “I know the Morvicti’s biggest fear, the one that makes them quake in their long slumbers.”

  “What is that?”

  “Though they claim my kind are abominations and lesser than they are, they know we are greater and more powerful than they can ever be.”

  He watched as Jack became more and more invigorated with every word he shared.

  “That’s why they shun us now, though in centuries past they actually beheaded those like me. They would have been better off if they had continued that practice. Had I been killed in my crib their destruction might have been avoided. But I will slay them all. Every last one of them. They deserve to die. The one who cut off the head of the baby mummy your team in Guatemala discovered was Morvicti.”

  “The mother and baby were part human and part immortal?”

  “Like me. Like Austin and Angelique.”

  He quoted a phrase that had stuck out in one of the letters. “The pinnacle species?”

  “The pinnacle species,” The Ripper repeated reverently.

  Dr. Wilson heard Bathry choke and felt the man’s tongue trace the wound on his hand. He turned and saw the killer who had taken Gita’s life open his eyes.

  CHAPTER 65

  11:22 PM

  As the blackness faded, David Bathry’s focus returned. The fresh human blood had brought him to reality again. He licked his lips and swallowed the last drop.

  “Back among the living,” Jack said with a smile. “How do you feel?”

  So the bastard had returned for him after all.

  Bathry had years of practice feigning various emotions, but he hoped he was able to conceal the absolute surprise that filled his mind. He still couldn’t be certain he wasn’t dreaming. Or already dead.

  “Much better, thank you.” He realized he was stretched out on a cold floor. Something was restraining his body. He was too weak to break free. A straightjacket? “They’ve found us out, but it’s not over yet, Jack. We can still finish our work. But I need more blood.” He glanced hungrily at Dr. Wilson. “More, Jack. Please.”

  The old man’s eyes widened.

  The Ripper shook his head, handing a cloth to the professor. “Not yet.”

  “I cannot move.” He tried to sit up. Glancing down, he registered the duct tape wound tightly around his entire body, constricting him. His heart started beating faster. “Who tied me?”

  “My brother, Austin,” Jack said.

  “McCord is your brother?”

  “Not biologically, but he is just like me. What is it that you call us, David?” Jack stood over him, his eyes wide. “I believe the word is ‘halfblood,’ right? That’s what you so crudely call my kind.”

  “Jack, it’s just a word.” He saw that the monster had a gun in one hand and a knife in the other. “I pulled out your stake. I brought you back to life. I gave you blood. I taught you how to live in the world.”

  “Yes, you did. I’m very grateful, David. Living in this age would have been next to impossible without your instruction, but more importantly, you taught me how to slay an immortal. How to permanently send them below ground.” Smiling, he raised his knife and motioned across his throat with it.

  Bathry’s mouth turned bone dry. “I’m your friend, Jack. Cut me loose and we can rid the world of the Drake Bloodline, for all the injustices they have done to me and to you.”

  The Ripper laughed. “Bathry, your hate makes you blind. It is so easy to manipulate you. I don’t discriminate as you do.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I am so glad you asked. You can’t imagine how difficult it has been to keep this brilliant plan to myself. Now, I want to shout it from the rooftops.”

  His arrogance sickened Bathry, but he tried his best to keep his distaste from showing on his face.

  “You kept me in that cage for years. To you I was your attack dog to unleash against your enemies, the Drakes. But you’re one of the fucking Morvicti. The time of your rule is over; once Dr. Wilson’s report is sent out tomorrow to Andrea White at the BBC. Soon, the entirety of humanity will know of the Morvicti’s pitiful existence. They will tear down the bases of power you’ve built, brick by brick. The entire world will plunge into darkness, and out of the ashes my kind—Austin, Angelique, myself, and any others we find—will rise to rule. Your heads will roll, not ours.”

  Fearing for his life at the hands of this abomination he had released, he pleaded, “We just need to talk, Jack. We can work this out. I can help you like I always have.”

  Bathry’s heart and mind raced as he tried to come up with a solution. One, he could appeal to the man’s desire for fame. Tell him how best to run a PR campaign. Surely he wasn’t comfortable with social media just yet. T
wo, he could lie and tell him he knew where the other sanctuaries were. Three—

  “Too late, Bathry.” Jack raised the knife over his head.

  Bathry screamed, watching the blade swing down to meet his throat.

  CHAPTER 66

  12:05 AM

  Austin matched Angelique’s pace. He glanced in every direction for possible attackers. He didn’t want to get ahead of her. He wanted to be close in case the killer jumped out. He carried The Ripper’s package like a football player headed for the end zone. In his other hand he gripped the M4.

  The killer had manipulated them. His scavenger hunt at the museum had kept them away from Doc Wilson’s home for over an hour.

  Through ragged breaths Angelique asked, “How close does The Ripper have to be to hear me, Austin?”

  Clearly she was thinking of the line in the last letter that also kept rolling around in his own mind.

  I grow weary of hearing you call out Michael’s name.

  “The bastard would have to be close or have some kind of auditory surveillance device in Doc’s home. Like a mobile phone with a call in progress. He was on the other end, Sis.”

  “I thought so.”

  With their guns in hand, they ran up the steps to Wilson’s door opening it without ringing the bell.

  Gita’s door was open wider than when they’d left it. Motioning Angelique to remain in the entry he cautiously set foot in the flat.

  He found Dr. Wilson next to Gita with his hand over her mouth.

  “Doc?”

  He jerked around. “You startled me, Austin. Where is Angelique?”

  “She’s here and safe. Glad you are, too.”

  Doc turned to him. “John Reeves is The Ripper.”

  Shit. The bastard played us. “Is he still here?”

  “No.”

  “Good. Angelique, we’re back in Gita’s bedroom. All clear.”

  Doc kept his hand over Gita’s lips.

 

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