Hunting Prince Dracula Page 23
Hair rose on the back of my neck. Strange that she’d thought of the wolves, too. “More likely someone.”
“That is a terrifying thought.” Anastasia shivered so hard her candle flickered out.
“In light of the recent discovery regarding Wilhelm’s death,” the headmaster said in accented English, moving swiftly from remembrance to business, “no one is permitted off academy grounds. At least not until we uncover the true cause of death. A curfew will also be enforced to ensure your safety.”
Surprisingly, Andrei exchanged a glance with Anastasia.
“Has a threat been made against the academy?” Andrei’s accent was thick, sturdy. It suited him well.
Our headmaster met each of our gazes; this time no sneer was present on his face. If Moldoveanu was being kind, then something worse than a threat was coming for us. “We are taking precautionary measures. No threat has been made. Directly.”
Moldoveanu signaled for us to return to the castle. Giovanni and Vincenzo were the first to bound up the stone staircase and disappear inside, eager to find the best seats for anatomy class. I knew I should feel excited or nervous about the lesson, too. Those two permanent spots in the academy dangled before us all as if they were bones offered to starving mutts. And yet my thoughts kept straying toward the forest.
I turned around, watching the shadows move under the trees, as my classmates drifted up the stairs. I wondered who was out there, watching our small group, possibly hunting us like prey. Something sinister had happened to Wilhelm. My imagination, no matter how overactive of late, hadn’t conjured a vampire to drain him dry.
Some living monster had done that to him. I aimed to discover how. And why.
“When I call your name, please identify the bone to which I’m pointing.” Moldoveanu walked in front of the first row of the class, hands behind his back as if he were a military man. “I want to gauge your proficiency with the basics before moving on to more complex lessons. Understood?”
“Yes, Headmaster,” we all responded. I noticed no one slouched or drifted off to sleep in this class. Everyone was perched on the edge of their seats, quills dripping ink ready to scratch across blank pages. Well, everyone except for Thomas. He was craning his neck around, trying to gain my attention. I pressed my lips together, ignoring him. He’d done enough damage during folklore. I did not wish for that situation to repeat itself in this lesson. Moldoveanu was not nearly as forgiving or scatterbrained as Radu.
“Audrey Rose,” Thomas whispered when the headmaster stepped briefly into a supply closet. “Please, let me explain.”
I flashed him my most warning glare, courtesy of Aunt Amelia. If he ruined my prospects of placing in this academy, I’d murder him. He sat back but did not remove his gaze from me. I kept my mouth shut tight, afraid of unleashing a litany of unpleasant curses at him. I stared straight ahead, ignoring him.
A large blackboard took up the wall behind Moldoveanu’s desk, its dark surface clean of any marks. The headmaster rolled a skeleton out of the supply closet and placed it beside him. He picked up a pointing stick and began indicating each part he wanted us to identify. I shifted in my seat, hoping I’d not miss something easy. Thomas fidgeted, his focus burning a hole in my concentration. I gripped my quill, knuckles going white.
“Mr. Farrell, please name this bone.”
I fought to keep my eye roll internal.
“That’s the cranium, sir.” The Irish boy pulled his shoulders back, grinning as if he’d found a cure for some rare illness and not correctly pointed out that it was a skull.
“Mr. Hale? The next one, please.”
“Clavicle, sir.”
The lesson went on in much the same manner. Each student was given something ridiculous in its simplicity, and I wondered if I’d been wrong about the difficulty of this class. Then Moldoveanu abruptly dropped the pointer and went back to the closet. He returned with a tray of what appeared to be chicken bones in jars of clear liquid. I sniffed the air. It wasn’t carbolic acid or formalin.
“Miss Wadsworth, come to the head of class, please.”
I took a deep breath, stood, and forced myself into action. I halted next to the headmaster, attention fixed on the jars in his hands. He offered me one.
“Observe and report your findings.”
I lifted the jar to my nose and inhaled. “It appears to be a chicken bone soaked in vinegar, sir.”
Moldoveanu gave a curt nod. “And how does that substance affect the bone?”
I fought the urge to sink my teeth into my bottom lip. The classroom was suddenly so quiet my ears were ringing. Everyone’s gaze was fixed on me, dissecting my every pause and movement. I mulled over the significance of vinegar, but my attention was sliced in half.
Andrei snorted. “Looks like she might be ill, sir. Think her constitution is damaged?”
My face burned as the class laughed at the jab. The headmaster didn’t so much as blink in their direction, and he certainly didn’t offer any assistance to me. Furious, I began to retort and was promptly cut off by Thomas, standing so quickly he knocked his chair over.
“Enough!” he demanded, voice colder than the storm raging outside. “Miss Wadsworth is more than capable. Do not mock her.”
If I had been mortified before, it was nothing compared to the utter embarrassment I was drowning in now. Moldoveanu drew back, staring at Thomas as if a lizard had suddenly been granted the ability to speak.
“That will be all, Mr. Cresswell.” He pointed to the overturned chair. “If you cannot sit there quietly, then you will be asked to leave. Miss Wadsworth, my patience is growing thin. What might happen to a bone in vinegar?”
Blood was still rushing about my head, but I was too angry to care. My thoughts suddenly cleared. Acid. Vinegar was an acid. “It will become weaker. Acid is known to erode calcium phosphate, which renders bone more flexible, too.”
Moldoveanu’s lips almost twitched into a smile. “Prince Nicolae, identify which joints correlate to which movements in our bodies.”
I released my breath and returned to my seat, fuming that Thomas had once again made me into a spectacle in front of our peers. Intentionally or not, he was doing a fine job of hurting our chances in the assessment course. For the remainder of our lesson, I kept my eyes fixed on my notes, afraid of what other foolish thing Thomas might do next.
“My brother begged me to speak on his behalf.”
Daciana dragged the writing chair out of my bedchamber and placed it before the settee. Anastasia would be joining us in an hour or so, but for now it was just Ileana, Daciana, and myself.
A tray of food sat untouched in front of us. I had all but lost my appetite. I motioned for them to take the settee and plopped onto the chair opposite them. I did not want to comment on my frustration with Thomas, but Daciana wasn’t about to accept my silence.
“He feels dreadful. I honestly don’t believe he thought how his actions would come across. Thomas sees the world in equations. A problem for him has a solution. He doesn’t figure in emotions, but he’s trying. And willing to learn.”
I did not bother pointing out that if he was so interested in learning, then he would have taken note the first time we’d had a conversation regarding his involvement with informing me of what I ought to do. And then he most certainly wouldn’t have made such a scene in anatomy class. Instead of expressing my exasperation, I simply said, “I need some time.”
“Understandable. I’ve never seen him so… affected before. All he’s doing is pacing around his chambers. Do you want me to pass a message along to him before I leave?”
I shook my head. I truly appreciated Daciana’s attempt at mending our friendship, but now wasn’t the time. I would not allow outside issues to affect what I’d come here to do—improve my forensic skills and earn a place in the academy. Personal distractions would be dealt with after I’d secured my future with one of those spots; I would not sacrifice myself or my goals. Not even for Thomas. It wasn’t something I felt anyone should do—especially a woman. The right partner would be supportive and understand that, even if they longed for things to be right again.
At this moment, I needed to understand how our classmate had lost every last ounce of blood in his body. How it happened within an hour. And how his corpse had been dumped in the middle of the village without any clues or witnesses. Though I supposed the headmaster had probably already inquired about that while inspecting the scene.
I hated that Uncle wasn’t part of this case. I’d have been right beside him while he spoke to investigators, not sent back to the academy to wait. Even Detective Inspector William Blackburn—and his many secrets—had included me during the Ripper crimes.
Ileana lay nestled in Daciana’s lap, lids half shut while Daciana ran her fingers through her hair. They spoke about where Daciana was traveling to next, which family she’d be visiting. Their tones were soft, caring, if tinged with a bit of sadness at the prospect of not seeing each other for a while.
Their distraction allowed my mind to wander back over what I had observed in the village. The way Wilhelm had been left. The lack of disturbance in the snow around his body. It was as if he’d been tossed from a nearby window…
I jumped off the chair and paced before the fire, something was breaking apart and coalescing in my mind but I couldn’t quite make sense of the merging pieces.
“Everything all right?” Daciana asked.
“I apologize,” I said. “I’m just thinking.”
She smiled and went back to quietly speaking with Ileana. I recalled the figure I thought I’d noticed in the window above what had become a crime scene. The shutter that had smacked against the wall, drawing my attention upward. Odd that the shutters would have been left open during the storm. Less odd if that were, in fact, the place from which his body had been thrown.
A knock came at the door, startling us all from our respective places. Ileana and Daciana quickly moved apart. Anastasia waltzed in, waving to Ileana and smiling widely at me before inspecting Daciana closely. I hadn’t been expecting her for a while, though I was quickly learning that Anastasia danced to her own rhythm in life.