Morvicti Blood (A Morvicti Novel Book 1) (37 page)

“I do remember him. He was so kind to me.” Angelique turned to Austin. “He signed the insurance papers, but his name wasn’t Octavian Drake.”

“We use a variety of aliases,” Gita said. “Living as long as we do, it’s necessary.”

“It’s also necessary to keep your damn covers, isn’t it?” Austin could not hold back his anger, despite his sister’s glares.

“Austin, stop being like that,” Angelique said.

“Why? She’s been lying to Thomas for years. What makes you think she isn’t lying to us now?” He fixed his stare on Gita. “The truth. That’s what we want. That’s all we want.”

Doc’s face reddened. “Watch your tone. I won’t say it again.”

“Please, Thomas. It’s okay,” Gita said. “Austin and Angelique deserve to know the truth. All of it.”

“Turner & Turner Insurance. Octavian is behind the money we got, right? IBC Bank’s scholarship to Angelique. That’s his doing, too?”

“Yes. He wanted to make sure Angelique had money for college, and he kept track of you, Austin, while you were in the United States Navy. When you were shot in Iraq, your father was devastated.”

“Devastated? You’re making everything very clear to me now, Gita, if that’s even your real name. Octavian Drake brought me to London so it would be convenient for him to keep an eye on his two biological mistakes. He made me lose out on ten years of my life and let my sister think I was dead that whole time—when we were in the same fucking city. I would not call him a father. I would call him a monster.”

“Austin, it’s not what you think. The entire family loves you. Octavian even sent another cousin to find you.”

“Who?” Angelique asked.

“Belisarius, but you know him as Commissioner Poole.”

“Poole is Morvicti.” Doc lit his pipe. “I should have known.”

“Another damn alias,” Austin said angrily. “That figures.”

“That’s why Poole was outside my flat,” Angelique said. “He wasn’t there to hurt me. He was there to protect me.”

“Your father cares deeply for you both.”

Anger spread through his body, tensing every muscle. “What are you to us?”

“I’m your father’s cousin, your first cousin once removed. Please try to understand, Austin, everything we’ve done was to keep you and Angelique safe. We weren’t sure if you would ever rise from your slumber, but Octavian wanted you to be close to Angelique if and when you did. His plan was to tell you both on that very day, but The Ripper’s attack on our sanctuary changed everything. The one good thing was Jack gave you additional blood, and I believe that was what finally awakened you.”

“Perfect. I owe this second life to a serial killer.” Austin shook his head. “Thanks for nothing,
cousin
.” He turned away from Gita to the Doc. “Is Bathry’s body still in storage?”

“Yes.”

“You coming, Angelique?”

“I have no desire to see any more corpses. I’ll stay with Gita and Thomas.” She’d been through hell since his arrival, so he understood. “Hurry, Austin. We have to figure out a way to find The Ripper and rescue Michael.”

He placed his hand on her shoulder. “We’ll find him. I promise.”

Her eyes welled up, but no tears fell. She knew the odds were stacked against them.

“Sis, I’ll be back in a second. I just want to check if there are any clues The Ripper left around Bathry.”

As he ascended the stairs, his gut twisted into a knot. Now that Angelique knew their biological father was alive there would be no stopping her until they met him, but only after they found Michael.

He stepped into the cold storage room. The scene was similar to the one on Murphy Street this morning, though Bathry’s head was closer to his body than Walt Turner’s had been. Today he’d seen two headless corpses.
Headless corpses.

That would make a great name for a heavy metal band. Hell, I play bass pretty well. I might get it off the ground.

He could hear the announcer inform the crowd: “Put your hands together and welcome Headless Corpses!”

After all, what other career could he possibly explore?

He could not go back to the SEALs. The Navy believed he was dead. And he pretty much thought the explanation of time-travel from 2003 to the present wouldn’t go over too well with the Armed Services. The world he’d known had never existed. It was a house of cards built to camouflage him and Angelique from the hidden world of their father…a king.
I’m not even human. Fuck.

He heard a buzz behind him. Swinging around and aiming the gun in the direction of the sound, he saw the source—
John Reeves’s cell phone.

He clicked it on. “What can I do to get you to free Michael, asshole?”

“Stop calling me ‘asshole’ would be a nice start,” The Ripper said.

“What do you want?”

“My brother, you and I are the same. We are warriors.”

“Cut the crap, John or Jack or whatever you want to be called. I want Michael. Now tell me what it’s going to take to make that happen.”

“Very to the point. I like that. It’s time for us to meet and decide what we shall do with Michael. Together. Do not bring Angelique. She is too delicate for this undertaking. If you do not follow my instructions, Michael dies. Angelique dies. And you, my brother, die.”

“And if you dare try to double cross me on this I will kill you.”

“Have I lied about anything to you, Austin? No. I’m the one person who has been telling you and your sister the truth.”

“And you will leave Angelique out of this?”

“Yes. This is between you and me. But I believe once you hear everything I have to say you will join me. And you will give Angelique and me your blessing to marry.”

Not on your fucking insane life, asshole.
“Where do we meet?”

“We’ll meet at St. Patrick’s cemetery at Mary Jane’s memorial marker.” The Ripper told him the address.

“When?”

“I have a couple of things to take care of before you get here. Let’s see. It’s twenty-five past midnight. By car from Dr. Wilson’s house the trip normally takes thirty minutes this time of night. Make it twenty. I’ll see you at a quarter to one. Goodbye, Austin.”

CHAPTER 67

12:26 AM

“Look there, son,” Collin’s father said in his thick Irish brogue. “We be havin’ ourselves a few troublemakers tonight.”

Collin swept his torch over to where his father pointed.

“Maybe so, Da,” Collin said. “Father James was right to start the late rounds. Best we call the authorities.” He knelt down to inspect the gates’ broken chain and lock lying on the ground. Carelessly tossed aside nearby was a large pair of bolt cutters. Footsteps led into the cemetery.

“Looks like a single troublemaker, more like,” his father said.

He rang the police non-emergency number ‘101’ on his mobile phone. After the recording ended, he was connected to Forest Gate Police Station.

“Officer Stanton, how may I help you?”

“Hello, I’m Collin O’Shea. My father and I are groundskeepers at St. Patrick’s Cemetery in Leystone. We’ve been vandalized.” He told the officer about the broken chain and bolt cutters.

“Are you in any danger, Mr. O’Shea?”

“No, sir. Likely just a teenager carrying on after a night at the pub. Unfortunately, this isn’t the first time something like this has happened.”

“We will send someone out as soon as possible.”

“Thank you.” Collin clicked off the mobile and turned to his father. “If it’s anything like the last time, we won’t see any police for at least an hour.”

“An hour? If day show ’n two I be surprised. Maybe this vandal will have da decency to be passed out when day arrive, like last time.” His father winked. “Shall we see for ourselves who is trespassing, Lad?”

“Ya, Da.” He looked over at his father and smiled.

Sean Niall O’Shea, though brokenhearted from losing his wife, had been the best father a son could ever hope for. Collin still saw a bit of the sadness in his dad’s eyes from time to time, though most days they had that mischievous spark he so loved.

Collin’s mother had died from cancer when he was just a tiny lad. His father had taken such good care of her during her long battle. The only memory Collin had of his mother was of her sleeping and his dad awake, holding vigil at all times by her side.

He and his father continued down the cemetery’s path, pointing their torches in every direction. No sign of the vandal so far.

“Just imagine the faces of the family next week when I tell them about tonight,” his father said. “You and I facing down two…four giant brutes inside these fences.”

“You and your tales. No one believes a word you say.” He smiled. “Maybe this next trip home you should consider a dash more truth.”

“If I do, your Uncle Michael won’t keep our glasses full.” His father laughed. “Twenty-one days in Dublin. What a time you and I will—”

A dark figure appeared suddenly behind his father, covering his mouth and slicing his neck with a large knife. His father fell to the ground, the long gash in his throat spewing blood and robbing him of his final words.

Stunned, Collin bent over him. “Da?”

The man with the blade grabbed him. Collin instinctively elbowed him and broke free of the hold, whipping around to face his attacker. The man held the knife almost casually.

The attacker lunged with the blade. Collin tried to deflect it with the torch, but missed. The knife sunk deep into his left arm and he yelled out, dropping his only weapon. Then the man yanked out the blade and buried it in Collin’s chest.

Suddenly unable to breathe, he collapsed next to his father.

The dark-haired man turned off their torches and took Collin’s mobile phone. He bent down next to his father and licked the blood. “I wish I had more time to enjoy slicing on you. But I’m expecting someone.”

Helpless and paralyzed, Collin watched in horror as the man plunged his knife into his father again and again.

CHAPTER 68

12:28 PM

Angelique heard the front door open and close. Her entire body tensed.

“Did you hear that?” Thomas asked, still holding Gita’s hand.

She nodded. “Stay here.”
Where’s Austin?

With her gun in hand, she cautiously walked into the foyer. Empty. She glanced out the window and saw Austin speeding away in the car. “What the hell?”

She ran out to the street, trying to wave him to stop. But he kept driving at a dangerous velocity, the tires squealing and smoking.

What had he found in the lab that had him in such a hurry? As fast as she could run, she headed up the stairs to the cold storage room. The gruesome sight made her stomach queasy, but she scanned the area, hoping to see another envelope. But if there had been one here, it wasn’t now.
Austin must have taken it with him.

What could The Ripper have told her brother that would have had him leaving her behind? She didn’t have to think long on that. The bastard had made a threat against her no doubt and had likely given a promise to reveal where he was keeping Michael. That was the only explanation for Austin’s strange exit.

Where?

She ran down the stairs and back out the door, looking in every direction for a taxi—but there was none. Even if there had been, with Austin now out of sight, she could only guess at a direction to go, hoping to catch up with his car.

Fearing now for both Michael and Austin, she went back inside, trying to come up with what to do next.

Gita and Thomas were standing in the foyer.

“What’s wrong, Angelique?” Thomas’s hand was wrapped in a bandage now.

“Austin is gone. The Ripper got a message to him somehow. I don’t know what to do.” She felt powerless. “Gita, can your people help me? Do you have any idea where The Ripper might be?”

The doorbell rang.

Relief swept through her. “Austin must have seen me in the street and circled back around.”

She opened the door, but it wasn’t Austin who was standing there. It was the man who had signed the insurance papers back in Texas, the man who had placed her brother in the building on Murphy Street, the man who was their father.

“Angelique, I’m—”

“Octavian Drake. I know. Gita told me.” He was tall and handsome. Octavian appeared to be just a little older than she and Austin.
But he’s Morvicti, and they don’t age.

“Your Majesty, I’m sorry,” Gita said, bowing at the waist. “It could not be avoided.”

“No it could not,” Angelique added, looking directly into his eyes, which reminded her so much of her brother’s. “Introductions can come later. Right now, I need your help to find Austin.”

Octavian’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean? Why isn’t he here?”