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“Doors lock in two minutes,” he said in a thick Romanian accent. His upper lip curled as if he knew I fought the whispered urge to step back. I could have sworn his incisors were sharp enough to pierce skin. “I suggest you hurry inside and shut that mouth before something unpleasant flies in. We have a bit of a bat problem.”
ACADEMY OF FORENSIC MEDICINE AND SCIENCE
INSTITUTULUI NATIONAL DE CRIMINALISTICA SI MEDICINA LEGALA
BRAN CASTLE
1 DECEMBER 1888
I snapped my mouth shut, more out of shock at such an egregious welcome than compliance.
What a dreadfully rude man. He inspected Thomas with an equally patronizing sneer plastered across his face. I tore my attention from him, afraid I’d turn to stone if I stared too hard. For all I knew he was descended from the mythical Gorgons. He was certainly as charming as Medusa—which, I realized, was exactly what the door knocker had reminded me of.
We stepped through the doorway and waited quietly as the man walked over to a maid and began instructing her on something in Romanian. My friend shifted from one foot to the other but remained silent. It was both a small miracle and a blessing.
I glanced around. We were standing in a semicircular receiving chamber, and several darkened corridors stretched to our right and left. Straight ahead, a rather plain staircase split in two, leading to both upper and lower levels. An enormous fireplace offset the stairs, but even the inviting ambience of crackling wood couldn’t stop gooseflesh from rising. The castle seemed to chill in our presence. I thought I’d felt a gust of arctic air blow in from the rafters. Darkness clung in areas the fire didn’t reach, heavy and thick as a nightmare one couldn’t wake from.
I wondered where they kept the bodies we were to study.
The man lifted his head and met my gaze, as if he’d heard my inner thoughts again and wished to mock me. I hoped trepidation didn’t show through the cracks of my tarnished armor. I swallowed hard, releasing a breath once he’d looked away.
“I have the strangest feeling about him,” I whispered.
Thomas allowed his focus to drift to the man and the maid, who was nodding along to whatever he was saying. “This room is equally charming. The sconces are all dragons. Look at those teeth spitting flames. Bet Vlad had them commissioned himself.”
Torches were lit and spaced evenly throughout the receiving chamber. Dark wooden beams edged the ceiling and doors, reminding me of blackened gums. I couldn’t help feeling like this castle enjoyed devouring fresh blood as much as its previous occupant enjoyed spilling it. It was an abysmal setting for any school, let alone one that studied the dead.
Lemon and antiseptic cut through the scents of damp stone and paraffin. Cleaning materials for two vastly different purposes. I noticed the floor in the receiving chamber was wet from—I assumed—other students arriving in the storm.
Wings flapped from the cavernous ceilings, drawing my attention upward. An arched window was set high up on the wall, cobwebs noticeable from here. I didn’t notice any bats but pictured red eyes glaring down at me. I hoped to avoid seeing such creatures during my time here. I’d always been afraid of their leathery wings and sharp teeth.
The maid bobbed a curtsy and scurried down the corridor on the far left.
“We weren’t expecting a spouse. You may stay two floors up to the left.”
The man dismissed me with a flick of his wrist. At first I had thought him old because of his hair. Now I could see his face was mostly unlined and much younger. He was likely around my father’s age, no more than forty.
“Forensic students are in the east wing. Or should I say, students vying for a spot in our forensics program are this way. Come”—he motioned toward Thomas—“I’m heading there myself. I’ll show you to your chambers. You may visit your wife only after classes end.”
Thomas got that obnoxious glint in his eyes, but this wasn’t his battle to fight. I took a small step in front of him and cleared my throat. “Actually, we’re both in the forensics program. And I’m not his wife. Sir.”
The nasty man stopped abruptly. He slowly spun on his heel, a high-pitched screech issuing from the soles of his shoes. He narrowed his eyes as if he couldn’t possibly have heard me correctly. “Pardon?”
“My name is Miss Audrey Rose Wadsworth. I believe the academy received a letter of recommendation from my uncle, Dr. Jonathan Wadsworth of London. I’ve been apprenticing under him for quite some time now. Both Mr. Cresswell and myself were present during the Ripper murders. We assisted my uncle and Scotland Yard in the forensics investigation. I’m quite sure the headmaster received the letter. He responded.”
“Is that so.”
The way he said it wasn’t a question, but I pretended not to notice. “It is.”
I watched the blankness leave the man’s face. A vein in his neck jumped as if it might strangle the life from me. While it wasn’t unheard of for a woman to study medicine or forensics, he clearly wasn’t a progressive sort who enjoyed having this boys’ club invaded by lace-wearing girls. Girls who obviously didn’t know their proper place was in a home, not a medical laboratory. The very nerve of him, assuming I was there only because Thomas brought me. I hoped he wasn’t a teacher. Studying under him would be a certain kind of perverse torture I should like to avoid.
I thrust my chin up, refusing to break away from his stare. He’d not intimidate me. Not after what I’d been through with Jack the Ripper this past autumn. He raised a brow in appraisal. I had the impression that few people—man or woman—ever stood up to him.
“Ah. Well, then. I didn’t think you’d follow through. Welcome to the academy, Miss Wadsworth.” He attempted a smile but appeared as if he’d swallowed a bat.
“You mentioned something about vying for a spot in the program?” I asked, ignoring his sour expression. “We were under the impression we’d been accepted.”
“Yes. Well. What a shame for you. We have hundreds of students who wish to study here,” he said, lifting his own chin with arrogance. “Not all gain admittance. Each season we host an assessment course to determine who will actually become a student.”
