Page 26 of Her Creation

Victoria weighed her options as she straddled the space beneath the doorframe, caught between stepping into the hallway to short-lived freedom or staying within the promised peace of what lying with Wilhelm would bring.

“I will tell everyone about your unfaithfulness.” She flustered with a last burst of fight, dropping the thread once the words fell from her mouth and she realized how little it mattered. Nearly all the noblemen cheated on their wives and kept mistresses. No one would bat an eye at the future baron’s actions.

Wilhelm laughed. “I will have you whenever and wherever I see fit, for as long as I like. What is it that you do not understand about that?”

“What if I’m pursued by another? What if I marry a suitor?” Victoria knew she would have to, and soon, if she was to ensure her and her father’s security and the finances for his care. Thoughts of the cadaver drifted through the cracked floorboards of her mind.

His smirk twisted. “Then I will use you harder, so that he knows he’s enjoying my seconds. No other man could make me stop.”

Appalled, and feeling her snare tightening, Victoria held her face in her hands, struggling to think her way out.

“Enough. I’ve grown bored with your loose tongue.” Wilhelm’s sharp tone cut into her thoughts. “Take off that dress and lie on the bed.” He watched with a hunter’s focus to see if Victoria would appease his request or if she would fight him.

Victoria, knowing there was no secret, hidden knowledge that would free her from the impossible situation, held her breath and reluctantly closed the door behind her. Her body, flooded with adrenaline, and dreading what was to come, urged her to run out the door once more, but she knew what would happen if she did: she would ruin her father’s life and reputation. Instead, she did the only thing she could do to keep her and her father safe.

She went to her notes, the newest ones, the ones she’d updated as she continued her lessons and pored over her father’s old academic notes. The neatly written words filled her head as she unfastened her dress with shaking fingers. As she lay down on the bed next to Wilhelm, she saw not his greedy eyes, or the sheen of his bare golden chest, but the beautiful words of Latin that comprised her father’s notes, and now hers.

While she mentally ran through the most advanced procedure of resurrection she’d tried yet, she pushed all other senses from her mind and tried to focus on what the cadaver’s eyes might look like once alive and looking at her. Somehow still, the sharp-scented bite of cinnamon, cloves, and orange permeated her procedure.

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The flame apparatus above the cadaver’s left shoulder flared wildly at the same time as a soft scraping sound came from the stairs.

“What was that?” Thomas Paranthal lifted his head from the brine-soaked heart, nearly knocking over the jar it had been removed from as his body snapped toward the creepy stairwell of the lab. Cobwebs dusted the corners of the cold, damp cellar. It was the oppressive mustiness that found its way into your bones but never sat upon your skin. The earthy scent of iron, stone, and a sharp cocktail of chemicals bled into the air in a pungent aroma.

Alphonse’s head tilted as he watched the flame lick the side of glass as if it were reaching for the stairs. “A ghost. Came with the castle. Now, Thomas, please continue your explanation to me of the importance of the arteries and the best way in which to suture them,” Alphonse said loudly in a bored drawl.

“Look at this. That flame has hardly been lit. What do you suppose is causing the brain to react now?” Thomas studied the other man for a moment.

Alphonse’s brows rose, his face illuminated by the many oil lamps scattered around the large space as the men worked next to the cadaver and his open chest.

“Perhaps he’s impatient to understand ventricles.”

“You know the—heavens above, Alphonse, what the devil is going on?” Thomas’s eyes continued to migrate back to the area of the stairs across from them. “Several times I’ve gotten the prickly sensation that I’m being watched. Is something over there? In the stairwell?” Goose bumps trailed up his arms, under the stiff fabric of his lab coat. “Is someone there? Is this some sort of joke? I know you remember these techniques.”

“It’s the cadaver. Annoyed with the way you keep pestering the ghost. Of course not. I am—er, working on other things at the moment, and my remembrance of certain techniques has failed me,” hurried Alphonse, gently stepping in behind Thomas and directing his attention away from the stairwell and back to the heart on the table next to the body.

Thomas refocused his attention on the glistening heart, looking down through the small rectangular glass of his spectacles as he returned to his work. “Yes? What sort of other things? You know how your experiments fascinate me, though I can’t say I agree with your techniques.”

The soft, almost imperceptible sound of a sneeze being stifled echoed throughout the large stone chamber.

“What the—” Dr. Paranthal’s eyes widened in fear as he stood and moved toward the stairs.

The flame above the cadaver suddenly widened in width and height until it was licking the top of the glass dome.

“Resurrection,” said Alphonse quickly as he stared at the flame.

Thomas’s head snapped to look at the shorter man, but then he noticed the flame leaving black marks along the glass. “Resurrection? Surely you aren’t serious? That’s mad. Besides being impossible.” He laughed and returned his attention to Alphonse.

The flame dipped, returning to a low, steady quarter-inch flame.

Alphonse shook his head, and slowly the whisper of a smile took hold of his features. “I used to think so as well, but I have additional reasons to believe it can actually be done.”

“Oh, please, I’ve noted something being off about you these last two visits. Should I now be inclined to believe it is not a disease in your body, but in your mind? Be reasonable, Alphonse. You sound as foolish as Victoria when I gave her those books all those years ago.” A sudden look of concern came over his face, causing the doctor’s gray brows to pinch together.

“A spark of the divine supplied by lightning.” Alphonse’s face brightened. “It’s stored and released into the central nervous—” He trailed off at the harsh look on Thomas’s face. “Never mind, back to the heart.”

“Yes, back to the heart.” He continued, “Besides, even if you deposited mass amounts of energy…”