CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE AUTOPSY INTRIGUE #2
The earth seemed to rumble beneath my seat.
Flames rose from my core, then turned icy.
I blinked tears away, unable to prevent a few from sliding down my cheeks.
I didn’t actually care if anyone in the class mocked my show of emotion.
I stared unseeing at the body, trying to force the image to make sense.
Anastasia. It couldn’t be. I sat there, heart thudding dully, looking at the lifeless form.
I took in the blond hair but couldn’t bear to inspect her decaying face too closely.
My friend was dead. This could not be happening again.
My chest felt as if it were caving in from the weight now pressing on it.
How could I have thought her guilty of the murders?
When did I become so untrusting? I longed to run from the room and never study another body for as long as I lived.
Thomas wasn’t the cursed one, I was. Every person I grew close to died.
Nicolae had said as much in the alleyway. He was correct.
Through tears, I glanced at our classmates.
All were stricken. Gone were the fiercely competitive students, thirsting for knowledge and battling for those two precious spots in the academy.
Science needed coldness for exploratory advancements, but we were still human.
Our minds might be made of steel when needed, but our hearts beat with compassion.
We still cared deeply for people and mourned.
Thomas swiveled in his seat, attention landing on Nicolae and then on me.
My friend appeared rattled but was focused enough to seek out suspicious behavior.
I’d almost forgotten about the prince’s illustrations and what part they might have played in all this.
Andrei clamped his jaws together, tossing a murderous glare at his friend, though his throat bobbed with tears he was obviously holding back. How very peculiar.
“The bite marks are consistent with those of small mammals,” Percy said quietly. “Does anyone want to hazard a guess as to what might have attacked this young woman?”
I held my breath along with the rest of the surgical theater.
Neither Thomas nor I dared to respond—or even glance at each other—though we had seen exactly how Anastasia had died.
The question was, who else in this classroom would know?
If anyone else was collaborating with Ileana, they’d be privy to the source of death.
Percy trailed his gaze over each student, waiting for someone to break the heavy silence.
“Snakes?” Vincenzo and Giovanni finally asked in unison.
“Venomous spiders?” Cian added.
“Good guesses, but no,” Percy said, his expression becoming less hopeful. “Does anyone else wish to share an idea?”
Nicolae barely glanced at the body, attention fixed on the carbolic steam spray still in his hands. He rolled it from side to side, then pressed the release button, startling us all with a burst of antiseptic spray. Its mist was as foreboding as the tone he used.
“Bats,” he mumbled. “Those wounds are characteristic of a type of bat rumored to infest this castle.”
Percy clapped once, the sound jolting us all in our seats. “Excellent, Prince Nicolae! Notice the spaces between the teeth marks. These indicate rather large specimens, too. I imagine they must have fed on her for quite some time, though she likely lost consciousness at some point.”
I swallowed hard, stomach churning with the image.
If I didn’t keep my emotions locked away tightly, I’d break apart piece by piece.
I focused on breathing. If I thought about my friend, how vibrant she was in life, I’d be of no use to her in death.
Still, even with having had some practice in controlling my feelings, bits of my heart shattered.
I was through with loss. So very tired of constantly saying good-bye to those I wished to adventure with through life.
I swiped at the wetness on my cheeks and sniffled.
Erik and Cian cursed. I knew they weren’t capable of being the Impaler or working with Ileana. There was kindness and compassion fusing their cells together. I’d watched Erik help Nicolae when he’d tossed him an apron, willing to help someone out when they needed a friend.
But the prince and his obsession with bats, well, that seemed too much of a coincidence to ignore.
“All right,” Percy said, “who would like to make the next incision?”
Cian and Noah eyed each other and slowly raised their hands.
I admired their ability to push beyond the horror, but I couldn’t bring myself to use my blade on my friend’s body.
I didn’t care if it cost me my place in the academy; even thinking of the stupid competition felt horribly cold, though I knew Anastasia would chide me for feeling defeated. She’d expect me to push forward.
With that thought fortifying me, I sat straight as an arrow in the first row of Percy’s surgical theater, knowing there was absolutely nothing I could offer Anastasia, aside from my will to avenge her death. Thomas leaned forward in his seat but did not raise his hand.
“Mr. Hale,” Percy said. “Please come take your place.”
Noah adjusted his apron and took the scalpel from Percy, doing a fine job of rinsing it with carbolic acid before placing it against unmoving flesh.
Uncle would have been proud. I forced myself to watch the Y incision he made on Anastasia’s lifeless chest. I kept my breathing steady, not allowing my pulse to spike.
We needed to find out for certain if the bats were truly her cause of death, or if something more sinister had ended her life first.
My gaze trailed down to her hands. There weren’t many defensive wounds.
I found it hard to believe someone as feisty as Anastasia would simply lie back and give in to Death without battling it with everything she had.
She fought to be treated equally, fought to prove her worth to her uncle.
A fighter like her wouldn’t give up during the ultimate battle.
The thought bolstered my own spirits, encouraging me to carry on.
“Note the way in which Mr. Hale is separating the ribs. Very clean cuts.”
Professor Percy handed our classmate the rib cutters and took the scalpel again.
I cringed a bit at the exposed viscera but reminded myself this was no longer Anastasia—this was a victim who needed us.
A slight garlic scent wafted through the theater as Percy paced around the operating floor.
I narrowed my eyes. Before I could call out my question, Noah pried the jaws open.
Nothing unusual was there. Thomas chanced a look in my direction, his expression hard to read.
Noah moved down the cadaver, inspecting the abdominal cavity. He drew close enough to smell the organs and stifled a small gag. “A garlic odor is present in body tissues and mouth, sir, though there are no signs of the substance on her. Inspecting the contents of her stomach might reveal more.”