Hunting Prince Dracula (Stalking Jack the Ripper Book 2) Read online

  A new wave of sickness crashed through my system. It was something I would not, could not ever forget. And to have the added images of Thomas lying on an examination table now? My breath came out in shudders. I finally forced my gaze upward and stared at the young man who could so easily deduce the impossible, and yet miss the simple and obvious before him.

  “I am so close to breaking, Thomas,” I said, body trembling. “So close to losing myself. I don’t even know if I can study forensic medicine anymore.”

  Thomas blinked as if I’d spoken so quickly and obscenely that his brain hadn’t quite caught up to my words. He opened his mouth, then shut it, shaking his head. His gaze was as tender as his tone when he finally found the right words.

  “You are grieving, Audrey Rose. Grief doesn’t equate breaking. You are rebuilding after something… destructive. You’re coming back stronger.” He swallowed hard. “Is that what you believe? That you’re irreparable?”

  I wiped my face with the cuff of my dress. “Why did you lie on that table? I need the truth this time.”

  “I… I thought…” Thomas bit his lip. “I thought confronting your fear might be beneficial. Might… assist you so you’re… performing at your best. We only have a few more weeks. Competition will become fierce. I thought you’d appreciate my effort.”

  “That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth. Did you not think of what that might do to me?”

  “I thought you’d be a little… annoyed, but mostly pleased. I imagined you… laughing, actually,” he said. “I didn’t really think it entirely through, though. I see where I might have offered my assistance in a more… productive way. Perhaps this was a time for emotional support.”

  “Oh? You’re only now deducing that it was a time for emotional support? How could you think I’d laugh over such a thing? To lose you—that would be the furthest thing from amusing I could ever imagine.”

  His gaze flashed with ill-timed mischief. “Are you finally admitting I’m irreplaceable in your heart, then? It’s quite overdue, if you ask me.”

  “Pardon?” I stood there, nearly agape, blinking. He wasn’t taking this seriously. I was going to murder him. I was going to shred him into a thousand pieces and feed him to the giant wolves prowling the woods. I lifted my face and could have sworn a growl ripped itself from my throat. Even though I didn’t make a sound, my expression must have promised blood.

  “It was a joke! Still not the time for levity, I see that now.” Thomas stumbled back, shaking his head. “You’ve had quite a shock… my fault, naturally. But—”

  I marched up to him, eyes narrowed as I brought my mouth close to his. Etiquette and decency and all of that damned polite society nonsense I was supposed to care about forgotten. I placed my hands flat against his chest and pushed him toward the wall, pinning him there. Though I hardly had to touch him to keep him in place—he seemed quite content with our current position.

  “Please, Audrey Rose. I’m hopeless and cannot apologize enough.” Thomas reached for my face, extending his hands until they were nearly on my skin, stopping when he registered the glare I leveled at him.

  “Do not treat me as if you know what’s best for me.” I paused, trying to unravel my own feelings and determine why I’d reacted so strongly. “My father tried caging me, protecting me from the outside world, and this is my first true experience with freedom, Thomas. I’m finally making my own choices. Which is both terrifying and thrilling, but I need to know I’m capable of fighting some battles alone. If you truly want to help, then simply be there for me. That is all I require. No more experiments in helping me deal with my trauma. Or talking with professors about my emotional state or constitution. You undermine me when you do so. I will not tolerate such actions.”

  “I’m sorry about that, too, Wadsworth.” The deep regret in his gaze told me he meant it. “You are, and have always been, my equal. I am so ashamed I’ve acted in a way that’s made you feel otherwise.” He inhaled deeply. “Would you… is it all right if I explain?”

  “There’s more to this idiocy?”

  I stared, unblinking. Thomas had done plenty of ridiculous things before, but this was by far the worst. He had to have known it was not only reopening a fresh wound—it was tearing both it and my soul apart at once. I allowed ice to coat my entire being.

  He released a shuddering breath, as if he could feel the coldness spreading out from me.

  “In my mind, when I thought about how you’d feel if you were to find me here in such a way, I thought you’d… laugh. Feel relieved your worst fears had proven false. That the only thing you had to fear was my horrible attempts to assist you.” His hand lifted to his forehead. “I’m losing my touch with deducing the obvious. Seems exactly what it is now: the worst idea known to mankind. I told you I have no formula for you. I also have no comprehension of women, it seems. Or perhaps it’s people in general I don’t understand. I can see how my brand of humor might not reflect the general populace.”

  Muscles in my cheeks wanted to twitch at the gross understatement, but I didn’t have enough energy left to smile.

  “It’s just… sometimes when I’m afraid or lost, I try to find the humor. Break the tension. It always helps me to laugh, and I was hoping it might help you, too. I truly am sorry, Audrey Rose. I was completely in the wrong in discussing your emotional state with Radu.”

  “Yes, you were.”

  Thomas nodded. For a moment it appeared as if he might break down and fall to his knees, but he soldiered on. “My blunder had nothing to do with a lack of faith in you. I simply didn’t trust Radu to not incessantly inquire about Jack the Ripper. I kept imagining him inadvertently hurting you, and I knew I’d want to murder him. I know you do not require protecting, yet I struggle with wanting to make you happy.”

  He took a deep breath; apparently there was more.

  “In Radu’s class… afterward I kept seeing your face. The light vanishing and that desolate nothingness snapping back. It felt like we were standing back in the laboratory the night he died. And the worst part? I knew it was something I could have prevented. If I’d tried harder. If I wasn’t terrified of losing you.” Thomas covered his face, breath ragged. This time, tears dripped over his chin. “I don’t know how to fix this. But I promise to do better. I—”

  “There was nothing you could have done that night,” I said gently.

  It was something I’d known myself for a while, but it didn’t prevent my mind from returning to that scene and replaying it over and over, searching for a different ending to the story. I reached over and tenderly took Thomas’s hand in my own. I was still upset with him, but my anger was tempered by perspective. He was still alive. We could leave this behind and grow. Neither time nor death had stunted us yet.

  He swallowed hard, throat bobbing, as he stared down at our joined hands. “Please forgive me.”

  “I—”

  A floorboard creaked beneath us. I pushed myself away from him, testing the spot with my weight. It sounded as if it had hinges that were in need of a good oiling. I was fairly positive I saw the outline of a door. I prayed it wasn’t another delusion. Thomas didn’t seem to have noticed it; his focus was solely on me, expression guarded yet hopeful. I realized he was waiting for my response to his apology.

  “If you swear to never, ever speak on my behalf without my consent, then I forgive you,” I said, knowing full well I would have forgiven him regardless. He brightened, and it took everything in me not to wrap my arms around him. I cleared my throat and pointed to the floor. “I have a theory I’m trying to prove. And I believe the trapdoor we’re standing on is our first clue.”

  Thomas stared at me a beat longer, then turned his attention to the floor. While standing back a few feet it was easier to make it out—there was most decidedly a hidden door within the morgue.

  “I overheard Moldoveanu and Dăneşti talking about disarming chambers, though I’m not quite sure what they meant by it. They said
they needed to find some book to locate them,” I said. Excitement replaced my earlier dark emotions as I gazed at the trapdoor. “I believe we beat them to it.”

  “It’s very possible.” Thomas pulled his shoulders back. “Could be an old tunnel into the woods. Vlad used this castle as a fortress. I’m sure there were plenty of ways for him to make a strategic exit if he needed to. It’s likely nothing but a spider’s palace now. I’d prefer to not soil this suit.”

  I sniffed rather dramatically. “That reeks of excuses, Cresswell. Are you afraid of spiders?”

  He tapped his fingers on his arms, expression thoughtful. “I feel no loss of dignity by admitting I loathe them.”

  I smiled. We were both going to be in trouble, then. I hoped we wouldn’t encounter any eight-legged creatures. Curiosity’s magnetic pull was much too great for me to resist. I felt around the wooden planks, searching for a release mechanism. The space below us was either old and filled with cobwebs, or it was regularly taken care of, leading me to believe someone knew about it.

  And if someone knew about it, perhaps it was full of clues. If Dăneşti was seeking hidden chambers, I wanted to know why. I glanced up at Thomas.

  “Aren’t you going to help?” He gnawed on his lip and I nearly saw crimson again. “Honestly? You think this is a worse idea than the one where you played dead and scared the life out of me?”

  “Point taken.” He drummed his fingers against his lips, considering. “If I end up being devoured by ravenous spiders, at least I’ll be memorable for something other than my good looks.”

  He grinned as I rolled my eyes, then walked over to the unlit sconce. I watched him study it briefly, then twist it to the side. Amazingly, the trapdoor swung inward, revealing a dank, musty stairwell. I lifted my eyes, incredulous, and Thomas beamed.

  Of course. The broken sconce was glaringly obvious now.

  “Shall I impress you with my powers of deduction? It was the only unlit sconce in the room, leading one to believe if there was indeed a secret—”

  “Not now, Cresswell. Give me a hand. I want to see what Vlad Dracula was hiding down here. And what Dăneşti is after.”

  SECRET PASSAGE

  PASAJ SECRET

  BRAN CASTLE

  5 DECEMBER 1888

  If the near-complete darkness wasn’t enough of a warning to turn back, then the sickeningly sweet stench of decay that assaulted us should have been.

  “Lovely.” Thomas scrunched his nose. “There’s nothing quite like the aroma of a bloated corpse to get one in the mood for adventure.”

  We stood on the threshold of the trapdoor, staring down into what was sure to be a dismal setting. Gray stones edged with cobwebs and other detritus yawned before us, opening their chipped teeth wide to allow entry into the bowels of the castle. I did my best to breathe through my mouth. “Think of it as if it were simply a ripe fruit ready to burst.”

  Thomas’s gaze swept over me, brows lifted in appraisal. “You are morbidly enchanting.”

  “We need to hurry. I don’t want to linger too long.” I nodded at the trapdoor. “Should we close this?”

  Thomas eyed the secret passage and then the main door, resignation settling on his features. He sighed. “I’ve a feeling we’ll regret it, but yes. Go on down a few steps and I’ll close us in with the dead body and spiders. In the dark.”

  I gathered my skirts, thankful that they weren’t as bulky as normal, and descended one step at a time, cringing at what might be getting caught in my hemline. I was terrified of what was causing the stench and hoped it was only the carcass of an animal that had found its way into the castle. I wasn’t keen on finding human remains.

  Thomas huffed from behind me, his shoes finding every way imaginable to scrape over stone as he maneuvered the trapdoor into place. From previous experience, I knew he was more than capable of moving through the night with inhuman stealth. I gritted my teeth, ignoring the smack of his shoes as he stomped down the steps after me. Perhaps he was still shaken from his idiotic maneuver of playing dead.

  A pebble bounced down the steps, sounding our arrival for all the world to hear. I stopped moving, my pulse a roaring wave crashing through my veins. We couldn’t be positive we were alone down here, and I did not want to get expelled so quickly. Especially when there were so many unanswered questions about what, exactly, was happening at this academy.

  Thomas muttered something too low for me to understand.

  “Quiet, you.” I tossed a glance over my shoulder, though it was too dark to make him out clearly. His silhouette was gilded by the gaslight filtering through a crack in the trapdoor. I fought the urge to shiver. There was always something about him that was—unsettling in an intriguing manner. Especially when we were secreted away in the dark.

  “I can’t wait to see if it’s as pretty as it smells.”

  “Honestly? Is it impossible for you to hush?”

  The strike of a match followed by a hiss was his only response. Thomas smirked at the candlestick he was flourishing, the light barely a flicker in the oppressive dark. I did not bother asking where he’d found the stub of wax. Perhaps he’d had it secured in his morning coat.

  He leaned in, speaking quietly enough that I nearly missed his words. However, he did not miss the hitch in my breath as his lips grazed my neck, making my skin tingle with the contact. I felt him smile into my hair.

  “You’re the handsomest young man I’ve ever known,” he said.

  I squinted, trying to discern any bruising or imperfections on him. There wasn’t anything out of the ordinary that I could see. Simply two golden-brown eyes staring back, amused. “You’ve hit your head, haven’t you? Or did someone slip you a strange tonic?”

  “You want my silence.” Thomas grinned, then stepped around me after he leapt down the stairs. A perky hop to his step. “The phrase I just uttered is the code for when you want me to speak again. I promise I shall not utter one syllable until you unlock these lips with those words.”

  “If only I were so lucky.”

  Keeping his promise, he crept down the remaining stairs without so much as breathing too loudly. If I didn’t already know Thomas was there with me, and couldn’t see the slight flicker of light he held, I’d never have known he was only a few paces ahead. He certainly moved like a wraith when he chose to.

  His silhouette dissolved into the shadows surrounding us. Taking care to use the same caution, I descended with a sharp focus, as the last thing I needed was to break a limb down here.

  Wings flapped in the distance, the sound like leather striking leather in frantic succession. I ignored the way my heart longed to take flight and carry itself straight back up the stairs. I imagined those were the bats the headmaster had mentioned the night we arrived.

  Foul-smelling corpses were one thing, but bats… A shudder vibrated along my bones. Bats with their rodent faces and membranous wings made my nerves jangle.

  Which was completely irrational. I tolerated rats well enough. And birds were all right. But those featherless wings—and the veins that spread along them like branches in the tree of life. Those I could do without.

  As we reached the bottom of the stairs and entered a corridor that appeared to have been hewn from the rough stone of the mountain itself, I questioned my need to discover secrets contained under the morgue in a castle with such a forbidding past.

  Condensation dripped from the stone, though no one was here to wipe the sadness of this miserable tunnel away. At least no one we’d want to meet without a weapon. Wind howled through the passageway, raising gooseflesh along my arms.

  I cursed, forgetting to be quiet. Thomas turned, his expression bemused, but I motioned for him to keep walking. I’d need to look into having some sort of scalpel belt made. Then I could strap it to my body and wield it like the dangerous blade it was whenever I needed to. I wondered if the dressmaker in town would be able to manufacture such an accessory.

  If one could create a belt, surely this could be done
. I was stalling again and knew it. I sincerely hoped no bats assaulted us. There were a great many things I could withstand… but imagining their claws getting stuck in my curls as they screeched and tore strands of hair out…

  I wiped my hands down the front of my skirts, wishing I’d had thought to bring a cloak. Though of course I hadn’t planned on going anywhere other than the servant corridors. It was much colder this far beneath the castle’s many fireplaces. As if he’d plucked the deduction from the darkness, Thomas abruptly faced me, offering his coat.

  “Thank you. But you keep it for now.” It was so long, I’d stumble over it.

  He nodded and continued on. I hurried after him, managing to ignore the fluttering wings echoing in the dank passage ahead.

  I tugged Thomas to a halt. At the far end of the very long stone tunnel we were in, a single torch flickered. While its light resembled a sun sinking into the horizon, there was absolutely no warmth to be found within its meager rays. If a torch was lit, someone was either down here now or had been fairly recently.

  My breath clouded in front of me—ghosts of warning. Thomas signaled for me to lead the way. The walls seemed to draw closer now, the mountain crushing in on us from both sides. We passed a few doors, some of which were stained black, while others were dark oak, all almost indistinguishable from the cave walls until we came upon them.

  I tried pushing one in, but it refused to budge. I carried on down the corridor, attention homed in on any flicker of movement. I wasn’t sure what we’d do if we encountered someone sinister down here. Hopefully Thomas had a weapon hidden away wherever he’d secreted the candlestick.

  A slight breeze gusted, and with it our candle blinked out. I longed to pull my hair free from its plaiting and cover my neck with it. The air near this end of the tunnel was more frigid than it had been by the stairs. Water no longer dripped but froze in a glistening sheet where it kissed the rock face.