Necropolis Rising Read Online Free

his review. It was overdue. The authors didn’t deserve his punctuality, only his contempt.
    The handle on his office door turned until the mechanism clicked. He looked up as the door swung inwards and his heart began to thud in his chest.
    Amy Childs was standing in the doorway, her exquisite, unblemished face alabaster in the stark office lights. Her hair was damp, as though she’d been outside in the rain and two buttons on the plum coloured blouse, accentuating her slim hard body, were open from the waist up, revealing the perfect “O” of her navel.
    “ Oh, gosh, my dear,” Mitchell said softly, pushing his chair away from the desk. “You feel it too?”
    He edged towards her. “Look at you,” he whispered. The poor creature had a confused expression on her face; her pale eyes staring, and when they locked onto him he saw something inside them, a deep seated hunger that so desperately needed to be sated.
    Quivering, Mitchell stood in front of her - over her - and brought his hands up to frame her chin, her skin was as ice, surprising but not deterring him from the moment where he made a thousand images and wishes come true, stooping to place his lips and stroke them against hers. He felt her mouth open, drew his tongue across teeth whiter than her skin and plunged it deeply into her mouth.
    Amy Childs removed his tongue with a bite that was as efficient as a bear trap.
    Mitchell reeled, the pain bright, but numbing his senses as he staggered backwards, his chest a bloody “V” where gore streaked from his mouth.
    His feet tangled and he fell, his head making contact with the desk, putting the lights out for a while. And when he came to, mere moments later, dazed and confused and unable to move; he found Amy Childs straddling him, her skirt hitched, her blouse open and bloody in a mocking parody of coitus. He tried to scream but it was ineffective, he found himself choking on the gush of blood running down his throat, its iron taste gagging and making his belly burn. But by this time Amy was bringing her white face, splashed with dark blood into view. The hunger in her eyes was still there and shortly before she clamped her mouth over his lips began chewing, Professor George Mitchell dismissed his intellect and went mad.
    Not that Amy would have noticed. She was too busy eating.
    ***
     

4
     
    “ So what now?”
    It was Stu Kunaka who asked the question, but they had all thought it. This was a job that was dependent on precision timing. This current problem was about as welcome as holes in a life raft.
    “ I need an appraisal and recommendations,” O’Connell said. “And fast.”
    “ We can still plant the virus if we can gain access to the NCIDD building,” Clarke offered.
    “ Our man who can isn’t in the building until 8am tomorrow morning,” Suzie said curtly. “And now the city is locked down he isn’t getting in there.”
    “ Are we saying this thing is off?” Amir asked.
    “ It can’t be off,” O’Connell said coolly. “There’s no such thing as extenuating circumstances with The Consortium. There’s only the job - and getting it done.”
    “ But no one is getting in,” Amir protested. “The place is crawling with the military.”
    O’Connell nodded; his face impassive, calculating.
    “ Stu?” he finally said.
    “ Already on it, boss,” the big man said reaching for his phone and walking away from them with the tiny handset rammed to his ear.
    “ What are you thinking, O’Connell?” Suzie said with a puzzled frown.
    “ The military has freedom of movement. Which now means getting into the city may be the toughest part of this operation,” he explained.
    “ How are we getting inside the city?” Clarke asked picking at a crop of ripe spota on his chin.
    “ Stu’s working on it,” O’Connell said; his demeanor upbeat, all traces of uncertainty shelved. He was doing what he did best. He was planning , he was thinking - building a way to dodge the curveball and turn it