Hunting Prince Dracula (Stalking Jack the Ripper Book 2)

by Kerri Maniscalco

  I worried my bottom lip between my teeth, trying to place myself in their situation. The scandal that would befall an unmarried woman being caught alone in the company of a man would ruin her reputation. Being caught romantically with another young woman—society, vicious beast that it was, would destroy them both and take pleasure in ripping them apart.

  I paced the small rug in my room, torn between going back to apologize and locking myself away forever to perish in embarrassment and shame. Finally, I decided to crawl into bed. I did not want to chance interrupting them again if they had picked up from where I’d so rudely found them.

  A new wave of fire flickered across my skin when I thought of their kiss. It was so passionate. They appeared to be lost within each other’s souls. I couldn’t help thinking of being in a similar position with Thomas.

  Our kiss in the alleyway had been very nice, but danger had corralled us. What would it feel like to have my hair gently knotted in his fist, my back pressed against a wall, him tangled around me like vines wrapped around brick?

  I still didn’t know if I wanted forever—or that I would ever be the marrying kind—but certain feelings were becoming… clearer. Part of me longed to trail ungloved fingers across his face, learning each curve of his bone structure in an intimate way. I craved the pressure of his warmth as his cutaway coat dropped to the floor. I wanted to know what his body felt like as our friendship was doused in crude oil and set on fire. Which was completely indecent.

  I banished that image from my mind and yanked the covers up.

  Aunt Amelia would certainly force me to attend church services on her next visit, muttering never-ending prayers for my crumbling morals. As awful as I felt for being bested by curiosity, a smile slowly spread in the dark. It was one of the first nights in weeks that I was falling asleep to thoughts that didn’t revolve around failed electrical contraptions, dead prostitutes, and disemboweled bodies.

  Tonight I’d fall asleep to the image of gold-flecked eyes and a wicked mouth. And all the wonderful ways I might one day explore those lips in dark, empty rooms. Our passion burning brighter than all the stars in the sky.

  Saints drag me to Hell.

  TOWER CHAMBERS

  CAMERE DIN TURN

  BRAN CASTLE

  3 DECEMBER 1888

  I’d been up before the sun deigned to rise, pacing in front of the fireplace in my chambers.

  My velvet skirts were a deep blue to match my plummeting mood. I wasn’t sure if Ileana would come for breakfast, and the idea of losing an acquaintance I’d only just made had me changing gloves a second time. I walked one way, then the next, my skirts rustling in their own annoyance. Last night I’d fallen asleep with a thousand ways to apologize for my intrusion when I saw them both again.

  This morning none of them seemed right. I covered my face and made myself breathe. Liza would have known precisely what to do had she been in my place. She had a gift for social situations—and for being a good friend. I forced myself to sit, trying not to flick my attention to the clock with each passing second that ticked away. Dawn would break soon. And with it judgment on my curiosity would be delivered. Perhaps now I’d finally be broken of that wretched affliction.

  A confident knock came a few moments later, my heart clamoring in response as I raced across the room and flung the door wide.

  I slumped back, heaving a sigh. “Oh, hello.”

  “Not necessarily the reaction I was hoping for, Wadsworth.” Thomas glanced down at his dark jacket and trousers, both fitted in all the right ways. His striped waistcoat was also quite fashionable. “Perhaps I should have gone with the gray suit instead. I do look rather scrumptious in that.”

  I peered into the corridor, half hoping that Daciana would be lurking behind him, readying herself for a verbal attack regarding my curiosity. I sighed again. The hall was empty aside from Thomas. I finally dragged my attention back to him. “To what do I owe the honor of your presence this early in the morning?”

  Without being invited, he swept into my chambers and nodded at the space. “Cozy. Much better than the image in my head of tower chambers and fair maidens in need of… well, you’re not one in need of rescuing, but I’d say you could do with some entertainment.”

  He sat on the settee, crossing one long leg over the other.

  “My sister informed me of the adventure you all had last night.” He grinned as the color rushed to my face. “Don’t worry. She’ll be up in a moment. I didn’t want to miss the fun this morning. I’m having Turkish coffee sent up.”

  “I’ve never felt more wretched in all my life. Does she hate me?”

  Thomas had the audacity to chuckle. “On the contrary. She adores you. Said you’d turned nearly each shade of crimson and adopted a wonderful stutter.” His light tone vanished, replaced by something fierce. Here was a role I’d not seen him in—protective brother. “Most would have looked at them as if they were wrong for acting on their love. False, naturally. Society at large is staggeringly obtuse. If one simply looks to others for their opinions, they lose the ability to think critically for themselves. Progress would never be made if everyone appeared and thought and loved in the same manner.”

  “Who are you, and where is the socially awkward Mr. Cresswell?” I’d never been more proud of my friend for his determination to verbally admonish society’s faults.

  “I do get rather passionate about such matters,” Thomas said, a bit of levity back in his voice. “I suppose I’ve grown weary of a select few governing all. Rules are restrictions given by other privileged men. I enjoy making up my own mind. Everyone ought to have the same human right. Plus”—he flashed a devilish grin at me—“it drives my father absolutely mad when I speak in that manner. Shakes up his rigid beliefs in a delightful way. He’s yet to accept that the future will be run by those who believe as we do.”

  Another knock came at the door. Somehow I managed to open it without fainting from nerves. Daciana looked tentatively at me, then nodded to her brother. “Bună dimineaţa. How did everyone sleep? Anything exciting happen?”

  She gave me a playful smile, and the tension knotted in my chest loosened.

  “Truly, I cannot apologize enough,” I said in a rush. “I’d heard noises and thought… I don’t know, I worried someone was… under attack.”

  Thomas barked out a laugh. I raised a brow as he nearly fell off his seat. I’d never witnessed such a bout of emotion from him before. Daciana simply rolled her eyes. He was nearly hoarse by the time he composed himself enough to speak.

  If his sincere laughter hadn’t been so entrancing, I would have jabbed him with my finger. He was certainly lighter here, more relaxed with himself and less guarded, than he was in London. I couldn’t deny being intrigued by this side of him.

  “I wish I could capture the look on your face, Wadsworth. It’s the most endearing shade of red I’ve ever seen.” When I thought he’d collected himself, he chuckled again. “Under attack indeed. Seems you have a bit of work to do on your wooing, Daci.”

  “Oh, stuff it, Thomas.” Daciana turned to me. “Ileana and I have known each other for quite some time. When she learned of Thomas attending the academy, she applied for a position. It was a convenient way for us to see each other. I’m sorry for having scared you. It must have been awful, thinking something sinister was occurring in the morgue. Especially after the Ripper murders.”

  A lovely expression lit her face, and I marveled at the pang of envy that it stirred within my cells. I wanted someone to have such a look of utter longing while thinking of me. I took a deep breath and composed myself. Not someone. Thomas. I wanted him. I dared not glance in his direction for fear of those wanton emotions showing.

  “I suppose we got a bit carried away last night,” Daciana said. “It’s been a while since we’ve had an entire evening alone. It’s just… I adore her in every possible way. Have you ever looked upon someone and felt a spark within your core? She makes me want to accomplish grand things. That’s
the beauty of love, though, isn’t it? It brings out the very best within yourself.”

  I thought on that last part for a moment. While I fully agreed that she and Ileana were exquisite together, I also felt impressive feats could be accomplished if one chose to remain unattached. The proximity of a romantic partner should neither impede nor facilitate inner growth.

  “I do agree that love is wonderful,” I began slowly, not wanting to offend, “but there’s also a certain magic in being perfectly content with one’s own company. I believe greatness lies within. And is ours to harness or unleash at will.”

  Daciana’s eyes glinted with approval. “Indeed.”

  “While we could chatter on endlessly about love,” Thomas said in a faux huff, “your midnight tryst is making me quite jealous.”

  A third knock interrupted Thomas before he could say anything inappropriate. He stood, a serious countenance falling over him as if he’d flipped a cooling switch. Though his sister was here, it would still be frowned upon that we were without a chaperone.

  I swallowed my fear down and called out, “Yes?”

  “Bună dimineaţa, mis—Audrey,” Ileana said, cheeks flushing slightly. “I—”

  “Good morning to you, Ileana,” Thomas said from beside me. “I didn’t know you worked here until my sister showed up, all doe-eyed and excited. I should have known she wasn’t here to bless me with her sparkling personality.”

  To my utter amazement, Ileana cracked a genuine grin. “It’s good to see you, too.” The smile quickly faded. “You’re both needed downstairs immediately. Mandatory meeting. Moldoveanu is in some sort of mood. You shouldn’t be late.”

  “Hmm,” Thomas said. “This ought to be interesting. I was under the impression that he’s permanently in some sort of mood.”

  Daciana dropped onto the settee, propping her silk-covered feet up on the low table. “Sounds lovely. Do give my regards to him. If you need me, I’ll be here, sprawled by the fire.”

  Thomas rolled his eyes. “You’re like a house cat. Always napping in patches of sunshine or lounging before a fire.” A mischievous slant to his lips had me shaking my head before he opened his mouth again. “Please refrain from relieving yourself on the furniture.”

  Thomas ushered me and Ileana out before Daciana could respond, and I tried hard to not laugh at all the foul things she was shouting in Romanian at the closed door.

  By the time Thomas and I entered the dining hall, Anastasia had already wedged herself between Nicolae and the large brute, Andrei. I raised my brows at her choice of attending this meeting with her uncle. It was a bold maneuver. Clearly she wasn’t going to permit Moldoveanu an opportunity to shut her out of the castle’s intrigue. I imagined being stuck in her chambers every day would be unbearably boring.

  As had been the case yesterday, the tables were filled with the same pairings. I realized I didn’t know anyone else’s name and resolved to introduce myself by the evening. The boy with red curls sat with the boy with the dark skin. The Italian brothers were hunched together, studying. And Thomas and I were momentarily unsure where to situate ourselves.

  Undeterred by the sidelong glances Andrei slid her way, Anastasia excitedly motioned for us to come sit with them. Nicolae lifted his attention from his plate, glaring in our general direction halfheartedly. Thomas ignored him and focused on me. Sitting with the prince appeared as if it were the furthest thing from what he wanted to do, but he was leaving that decision up to me. It was a peace offering after his insistence yesterday that we return to London, and I appreciated the gesture.

  While I didn’t relish the idea of becoming best friends with Nicolae, I didn’t want to remain enemies either. If Anastasia had the fortitude to incorporate herself into the group against her uncle’s wishes, I could follow her lead.

  Nicolae picked at a meat pastry, pulling it apart and pushing the pieces around his plate. He never once took a bite. A bit of me softened. Losing a loved one wasn’t easy and often brought out qualities we weren’t proud of.

  Anger was a wall to hide grief behind. I knew that firsthand.

  I marched directly to their table and sat. “Good morning.”

  “Bună dimineaţa,” Anastasia said, cheerful voice echoing in the mostly empty room. Her dress was a bright crimson, another statement. One carefully crafted for maximum effect. She turned to Thomas, running her gaze over him swiftly. “You must be the handsome traveling companion.”

  Thomas slid into the chair beside me, expression bland. “With Audrey Rose, I like thinking of myself more along the lines of ‘handsome life companion.’”

  My face burned at his proprietary use of my Christian name, but no one else seemed to notice. Andrei snorted, then quickly chomped down on any more laughter as his gaze took in the empty seat next to Nicolae. While Anastasia chattered on with Thomas in Romanian, I subtly watched Andrei, wondering how close he’d been with Wilhelm. Dark circles marred his face, leaving me to imagine he’d taken the news as hard as the prince had. This could not be easy for them, sitting here when they’d rather mourn properly.

  I hoped the headmaster was going to deliver news of delaying our coursework. Perhaps he’d cancel the winter term and invite us back next season. A small bit of me sank at the thought. Nicolae kept pinching his pastry into pieces, his gaze set somewhere inward and far away.

  I wanted to reach over and say something comforting, something to maybe help heal myself as well, but Moldoveanu entered the dining hall and silence fell. Even Andrei shifted in his seat, a bead or two of perspiration dotting his broad brow.

  Moldoveanu wasted little time on pleasantries. He began speaking in Romanian, slow enough for me to pick up much of what he was relaying. Classes were to begin immediately. We’d be taught in English, since it was a common language for all countries present, but lessons would also include sections in Romanian for those who weren’t fluent yet.

  “Your first lesson will be with Professor Radu,” he continued in English. “Basic knowledge of folklore helps when investigating a scene in villages, where superstition may override logic and scientific sensibility.” He glanced at each of us, and I was surprised to see that his disdain was directed at the entire group. As if we were all wasting his precious time. “Due to the unfortunate passing of your classmate, I’ve decided to invite another student in his place. He will be arriving today.”

  A clock chimed the hour, loud enough to force the headmaster to press his lips together. I stole a glance at Nicolae, his jaw clenched tight. I could not fathom being in his place, listening as the headmaster cast off his cousin’s death so easily. It seemed highly callous to invite a new student so cavalierly, as if Wilhelm had simply run off and decided against trying out.

  Once the chimes stopped, Moldoveanu met each of our gazes. “I suspect some of you may be… distracted by the events of yesterday, and I understand. Loss isn’t taken lightly. We will have a vigil at sundown to honor Wilhelm. Professor Radu will provide more details. Immediately following his class, you are to report to your first postmortem laboratory. An anatomy lesson instructed by myself will follow that. You are dismissed.”

  Without offering another word, the headmaster exited the room, his shoes clapping against the floor and his footsteps fading away down the corridor.

  Vlad Ţepeş, c. 16th century.

  FOLKLORE CLASS

  CURS DE FOLCLOR

  BRAN CASTLE

  4 DECEMBER 1888

  “The woods surrounding the castle are filled with bones.”

  Professor Radu didn’t notice half the students’ chins were dropping to their chests while he flipped through pages in his oversize folklore book. He was reading to us as if we were babies with nursemaids instead of serious-minded students of medicine. Presently, it took a great amount of effort to keep myself from laughing while he regaled us with fantastical tales of creatures and immortal princes.

  All I wanted was to skip ahead to the laboratory study next period. There was a cadaver waiting to be
explored, and I couldn’t wait to put my new scalpels to use. Only two weeks had passed since my last postmortem with Uncle, yet it felt like two decades.

  I needed to see if I could put my difficulties aside and study the dead as I used to. Or if the way I’d been forgetful and terrified of previous hauntings would plague me forever. I was not as anxious to attend Moldoveanu’s lesson, though anatomy was a subject I excelled in.

  Thomas shifted his long legs under his writing desk, drawing my attention. He tapped his inkwell so hard with the end of his quill I feared the ink would spill all over his parchment. Another quick rap had the bottle teetering precariously until he seized it and started tapping again. He’d been rather distant since he’d run off to speak with Radu before class, leaving both Anastasia and me puzzled at his swift departure as we exited the dining hall.

  “Have any of you heard rumors of Vlad Ţepeş living in these woods?” Professor Radu asked the class of half-sleeping pupils. I exhaled. Honestly, I was surprised anyone would truly believe such nonsense. Anastasia shot me a knowing grin from the seat beside me. At least I wasn’t the only one in the classroom who thought this to be utter rubbish.

  Thomas rolled his neck, dragging my focus to him once again. He was uncharacteristically subdued. We’d shared Uncle’s class at the start of the Ripper murders, and no one could keep him quiet then. Normally his hand shot into the air so often I had the urge to shoo him from the classroom. I wondered if he was feeling ill.

  I tried catching his eye, but he pretended not to notice. I tapped my quill against my inkwell, eyes narrowed. The day Thomas Cresswell failed to take note of anything, most especially my attention, was a troublesome day indeed. Unease slipped into my thoughts.

  “No one’s heard these rumors?” Radu tripped up one aisle and down the next, head swooping from side to side. “I find that rather hard to believe. Come, now. Don’t be shy. We’re here to learn!”