Morvicti Blood (A Morvicti Novel Book 1) (36 page)

“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. Two, 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.

Angelique walked into the room. “Thomas, may I ask what you are doing?”

“Trying to bring Gita back to life.” He held up his hand, revealing the bleeding gash on his palm. “Even seeing it with my own eyes it’s still hard to believe.” He placed his hand back on Gita’s lips.

“What did you see?”

“The Ripper sliced my hand and forced me to place my palm on Bathry’s mouth.”

“Who is Bathry?” she asked.

“David Bell is Bathry, The Ripper’s mentor.”

“John Reeves is Jack the Ripper, Sis.”

“Is anybody who they say they are anymore?”

“Apparently not,” Doc answered.

“Did he say anything about Michael?” It was clear that her husband’s well being remained in the forefront of her mind.

Doc shook his head. “I was foolish to place the gun down. The Ripper took it and held me at gunpoint. He forced me to take him to Bathry. My blood went into the cold corpse’s mouth. Nothing happened at first and then the bastard’s eyes opened. Bathry came back from the dead.” Dr. Wilson stroked Gita’s hair with his uninjured hand. “Come back to me, Gita. This must work. It just has to.”

Angelique put her hand on his shoulder. “Thomas, are you sure about this?”

“I’m very sure. I checked Gita’s pulse, going far beyond the normal times of 15, 30, and even 60 seconds. I discovered her heart beats once every two minutes. She’s even breathing. One shallow breath, nearly undetectable, also every two minutes. She’s alive. She’s in hyper-hibernation.” Doc’s voice shook with emotion. “If I can give her enough of my blood she might come back to me.”

Angelique placed her fingers to Gita’s wrist, leaving them there.

Austin stared at the woman’s violet palms and then held his own up in front of him.
We’re the same. My body went into the same state. For over a decade.

Angelique’s eyes widened. “Austin, he’s right. I just felt a beat.”

Gita coughed.

Dr. Wilson removed his hand from her lips, now red from his blood. “Gita? Can you hear me?”

She opened her eyes. “I can hear you, Thomas.”

Austin kept his finger on the trigger of his gun.
Gita is one of them. No telling what she might do.

Doc kissed her on the cheek. “You’re here. You’re alive.”

“So are you.” Gita smiled, turning to him and Angelique. “And so are these two children, thanks be to the Ancestors. What happened to Bathry, Thomas?”

“After resurrecting Bathry The Ripper cut off his head right in front of me.”

“Oh my God,” Angelique said.

“Doc, I wish you would have told us about that when we first came in.”

“I had a more important matter to take care of first. This dear lady needed me.”

“Still the old fool you’ve always been.” Gita smiled weakly and sat up, her face quite pale. “I’m so sorry, Thomas. I didn’t want to tell you this way.”

“Shh, my dear. There’s plenty of time to talk about that later.”

“I want to talk now.” She swallowed hard. “But I’m a bit queasy.”

Austin recalled feeling the same way after waking in the building on Murphy Street.

“I’ll get you some water,” Angelique said.

“I don’t need water.” Gita closed her eyes, evidently struggling with what she would do next. When she opened her eyes, she said, “In my refrigerator there is a bag of blood. Would it bother you to bring it to me with a glass? I need blood to fully heal.”

“Of course you do. I will get it for you.” Angelique ran to Gita’s kitchen.

“The Ripper was here?” Gita wrapped her arms around Doc. “You could have been killed.”

“But I wasn’t. The monster was that tech I hired yesterday.”

“John Reeves?” she asked

“Yes.”

Angelique returned and handed her the glass of blood.

Gita stared at her strange drink. “I didn’t give it much thought that Reeves kept gloves on the whole time this morning in the lab, but I’m sure he must have recognized the coloring of my palms and didn’t want me to see his.”

“He’s gone now,” Doc said. “Don’t be embarrassed about the blood, my dear. You need your strength.”

She sighed and brought the glass to her lips.

Austin watched her face brighten and her cheeks redden. The blood was working its magic on her.

“Feeling better?” Doc asked.

“Much. What else happened with The Ripper?”

“He told me I have to finish my work on the samples he gave me,” Doc informed. “The bastard wants me to send everything to Andrea White at the BBC this morning. If I don’t, he will kill one of my techs every hour.”

“Maybe we can set a trap for him at the BBC,” Angelique said, no doubt grasping at straws to save Michael.

“I doubt he will be there, Sis. Too risky for him.”

“You can’t take your research to the media, Thomas,” Gita said, grabbing his hands. “It would destroy my people and yours.”

Doc asked, “But what about our techs, sweetheart? We can’t just let them be murdered.”

“I will make a call to someone who can ensure they are protected. I swear that we will keep our techs safe, Thomas.”

“Who will you call?” Angelique asked.

“The king of my people.”

“You are Morvicti? That’s what The Ripper called you,” Austin said. “Similar to vampires.”

“We would never call ourselves vampires. We are not supernatural beings. We are flesh and blood just like everybody else. I am Morvicti, but we are not monsters. We’ve lived among humans since the dawn of time, but our secret must remain in place for the survival of both our species. It’s the balance that has allowed us to flourish.”

“But aren’t humans the food of the Morvicti?” Angelique asked.

“Long ago, yes, but not now. Not for thousands of years.”

“And the blood?”

“We evolved, just like
Homo sapiens
. It is still part of our culture, our religious practices, and the one source that helps us when we go into slumber. We collect blood through other channels.”

“Blood banks? Hospitals?” Doc asked.

“That’s right. We only take a small percentage, enough to care for the ill and our loved ones who sleep below ground, and a tiny fraction more for our religious ceremonies. We never take more than necessary and we make sure it’s never missed through an elaborate but secret set of checks and balances. I swear to you, killing humans hasn’t been done in centuries.”

Austin knew propaganda when he heard it. “Except by people like The Ripper? He’s one of your people, right?”

“Yes and no. Jack isn’t a pure blood. I never met him, though he was my sister, Irina’s, son—half human and half Morvicti, like you and Angelique. Regrettably my kind see halfbloods as abominations.”

“Do you know our parents?” Angelique asked. “Are they still alive?”

“Your mother was human. She passed away the night you were born. I never met her, but your father loved her very much.”

“Who is he?” Angelique asked.

“Octavian Drake, our king.”

He clenched his jaw. “Are you trying to sell us a fairytale, Gita?”

“She’s only answering my questions,” Angelique scolded. “You don’t have to jump down her throat.”

Only a few times during their childhood had he and Angelique discussed what they thought their biological parents were like. Angelique had always been curious, even saying that one day she wanted to find them. Not him. They already had parents. He always felt the past could stay in the past. But now he had to face the past whether he liked it or not—and he definitely didn’t like it.

“So this king father of ours switched my body for someone else? That about sum it up, Gita?” He couldn’t keep his tone civil.

“Austin, I can understand how this news is hard for you to take in, but you will not talk to Gita that way,” Doc chided.

“I don’t understand how you can defend her when she’s been lying to you for so long.”

“I thought I lost her. I can forgive her anything now that I have her back.”

“It’s okay, Thomas,” Gita said. “I owe you an explanation, too. Let me finish telling these children about their father first. Then I will answer any question you have of me.” She turned back to him and Angelique. “Octavian has tried to protect you your entire lives. When your adoptive parents died in that fire, he worried it was an attack by an orthodox faction of our kind. It wasn’t. He investigated every detail to make sure. The tragedy was proven beyond any shadow of a doubt to be an unfortunate accident.”

“He was there?” Angelique asked.

“You met him,” Gita said. “The insurance adjuster that visited you before Austin returned from his basic training.”