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“You know what?” I asked. He raised his brows. “I rather enjoy seeing you without hearing all the nonsense spewing out. You should be quiet more often.” I allowed my gaze to inspect his chiseled features, pleased by the longing that lit in his eyes when my attention found his mouth. “In fact, I’ve never wanted to kiss you more.”
I quickly moved down the passage, smiling to myself as his jaw swung open. A bit of levity was what I needed to hold my unease at bay. I did not want to consider what we were about to see. Death never smelled pleasant, and the overwhelming odor now made my eyes water. Hope of coming across an animal carcass was dwindling.
Unless it was a rather large, human-size animal.
I wiped wetness from the corners of my lashes. This was how bodies smelled when they weren’t buried far enough below the earth. We hadn’t dealt with advanced decomposition too often in Uncle’s laboratory, but the few times we had had left memories that would be stitched within the seams of my brain for eternity.
Drawing closer to the lone torch, I distinguished two more tunnels forking off in opposite directions. At the point before they branched off, however, there was a thick oak door set to one side. Droplets of water seemed to leak from the porous wood. How very odd.
I took a few deep breaths, relishing the way the coldness now kept me alert. Here the passageway was wide enough for only one body to pass through at a time. My narrow shoulders nearly scraped against the walls as we inched our way toward that ominous door and whatever horror lay hidden behind it. Thomas twisted sideways to fit.
Glancing down, I was surprised to find rubbish. The scent of death was covering up most everything, but the greasy napkin at my feet appeared to be fresh enough. I swallowed, hoping whoever had deposited the garbage was long gone. It would be quite difficult to race out of this narrow passage without being caught.
I closed my eyes. I knew I was strong enough to handle whatever we were about to uncover. But the part of my brain still affected by the Ripper murders was filling my emotions with nonsense again. I only needed a minute. Then I would move.
Thomas tapped my shoulder, motioning that he wanted to pass by. I shook my head. In order for that to happen he’d have to squeeze past me. Before I could protest, he gently pressed me against the wall and slid over me, careful not to linger.
I reluctantly peeled myself off the wall, watching as he inspected the two tunnels. While he was busy calculating Lord only knew what, I focused on the door. He’d sufficiently distracted me from any growing fear, and he knew it. If I hadn’t been grateful for the outcome, I would have slapped him with my glove for taking such bold liberties in our unchaperoned state.
I faced the door again. A cross with flames at each end had been burned into the wood—a long time ago, from the faded look of it. A Roman numeral seven was carved below the cross. I traced my fingers along the symbol, then drew my hands back at the surprising warmth.
Maybe I wasn’t as free from my delusions as I’d thought. It would be best to open the door quickly, if it even would open. The suspense of who or what we’d find was only going to increase exponentially the longer I put it off.
Drawing in one more deep breath, I pushed with all my might, noticing again how hot the wood seemed for such a cold tunnel. That wasn’t scientifically possible, so I ignored the warning chatter of my bones. To my astonishment, the door swung open. The creak I’d been expecting never came. Someone obviously had taken great care to grease the metal hinges.
I poked my head in, barely a few inches, confused by the tropical heat that blasted from within the shadowy space, and squinted. The room appeared to be no larger than a small bathing chamber, but there was a mound of black in the center of the floor, and similar mounds along the high walls.
Which didn’t make sense—what could possibly be covering the walls? And how was it so disturbingly warm in here without a fire?
As if in answer to that very question, steam hissed from a crevice. There must be a source of heat somewhere close, perhaps a natural hot spring within the mountain or some sort of heating mechanism in the castle.
“Cresswell, hand me that torch, will you? I believe—” Something warm and furry smacked against my head. I reached up, but it was gone. Blood rushed in my ears, and every bit of reason left my mind as the mass of black lifted as one. “What in the name of—”
I jerked back, thrashing about as a hundred screeching bats swarmed and dived. Teeth scraped around the collar of my dress, then slid along the skin of my neck. It took every last rational thought I had to keep from screaming. If I broke now, someone would find us. I needed to be strong. I needed to not lose focus. I needed to—fight.
My hands connected with leathery wings. I swatted bodies from the sky and ignored the growing panic as blood dripped down my covered fingers, splattering on the floor.
We were under attack.
SECRET PASSAGE
PASAJ SECRET
BRAN CASTLE
5 DECEMBER 1888
Thomas was beside me a breath later, brandishing the torch from the wall as if it were a flaming sword.
He wasn’t the only one capable of steady action in the face of danger. I catalogued every detail of the room and scene I could manage between assaults. The mound in the center of the room was a body lying facedown. Bats had been covering it entirely, likely feasting on it.
Skirts indicated the victim was female, her skin whiter than freshly fallen snow where it wasn’t maimed by crimson bite marks. Her stillness left no doubt that she had perished. No one who still breathed could stay so motionless with that many creatures crawling over them. I ran to her side just to be sure.
“What are you doing?” Thomas yelled from the door. “She’s gone! Hurry!”
“One… moment,” I said, seeing blond hair beneath scarlet streaks. He could wield the torch, but I was determined to gather as much information as I could.
I tried to look for other details, but several bats dived on me at once, tearing through the lace of my gloves, drawn to the blood already leaking from my wounds. I hauled myself up, ran out of the room as fast as I could, and yanked the door shut. Thomas shoved the torch at the remaining assailants. His eyes were wild as they screeched and chittered, and dived for us once again.
