Page 5

“W hy is the tongue removed during an autopsy?” slid one hand into the pocket of his trousers, waiting for the ‘best and brightest’ of his students to answer.

Predictably, it was the brown noser always up his arse at Achilles and now in class, Tom Walsh, who spoke first. “In order to examine the oral cavity thoroughly.”

Walsh was the only student who didn’t cower in ’s presence. The lad was annoying for it, but he certainly studied the material.

“Correct. Once the tongue is removed to better access the oral cavity, what should be done next?” Walsh had a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed look about him and opened his mouth, but frowned, speaking before the lad could. “Anyone else?”

Classes had only been in session for a fortnight, but was already itching to be through with lectures and onto the more hands-on portion of his teaching.

“Document?” a quiet girl in the front row suggested timidly.

The classes at Trinity were small. It was a better way to teach, certainly, but it always meant the students were so near to his person. He wished this mousey one with the sweetheart face and doe-eyes would sit in the back row. She was clearly terrified of him. He wondered how she’d ended up in his course in the first place, and predicted she would be the first to vomit when they moved on to real cadavers.

His fingers twitched, wanting nothing more than to get classes over with and head back to Achilles House. To the body waiting for him. Stage 3 Infected . A thrill shot up his spine. He was so close. If only he could encourage the infection, coax it into Stage 4 somehow?—

“Note any abnormalities,” another student’s voice broke into his thoughts.

“Correct. And?” looked over the faces, not registering any of them.

“Take tissue samples for further analysis.” Fucking Walsh .

“Good.” strode to his desk and put on his wire-framed glasses, looking down at his notes nearly lost in the disarray. “Read chapters 7-10 and have a 4,000-word essay on my desk by Tuesday.”

The entire class groaned, but he didn’t care. Easy work meant weak minds, and he didn’t teach imbeciles.

Which reminded him he needed to check in on the mess Gibbs had made—ensure the instruments were properly returned by the cadaver girl.

“All right, fuck off then.” He made a shooing motion and dropped his glasses onto the mess of papers, shucking his tweed jacket and rolling the sleeves of his shirt up his forearms.

As soon as they’d all filed out grumbling, strode through the glorious, mystical corridors of the Medical Building toward the teachers’ room. Met with the scent of burnt coffee, he picked up a stale doughnut and considered powering through the disgusting taste of it, but reconsidered the desecration of his palate and threw it in the rubbish bin since he’d already touched it. One didn’t cut open the number of bodies he had without being forever altered by the disturbing transference of bacteria.

At least he was alone in the room.

was pouring the sludge some intern or TA had made hours prior into a loathsome paper coffee cup when he heard the irritating click-clack of high heels on the floor out in the hall. Sure enough, the sound came closer until the intruder was upon him.

“There you are!” He turned to find Mariana O’Sullivan in the doorway, her ample chest heaving.

“Walking around campus might be easier if you didn’t wear those.” pointed one finger at her gaudy pink heels, the others wrapped around his coffee cup that he took a sip from and immediately regretted the act.

“You’re delightful, Professor Murdoch.” Mariana pursed her lips at him. “I’ve been looking for you because I have a proposition.”

“Ah, Mariana. I’m not going to sleep with you. I’ve told you a thousand times.”

“Would you shut up and sit down?” She said the words sharply, but she did blush. At least Mariana wasn’t afraid of him. She had been his student advisor when he was after his PhD, just a young pup herself back then, one of the only people still in his life who’d truly known him before .

Irritably, he did as she asked and dropped into one of the leather armchairs by the hearth, crossing one long leg over the other. “Can we make this quick?”

“You know,” Mariana plopped into the chair across from him, “you’re too old for this insolent behaviour. Christ, you’re a grown man, .” She leaned forward and inspected his chin. “You’ve even got grey hairs there in your stubble.”

“Mariana,” he warned through his teeth.

“I’m only saying you could do with some cheer. Your students think you’re The Dullahan.”

snorted. “I might, on occasion, remove other people’s heads for scientific purposes, but I do not remove my own.” He took a sip of the bitter coffee and made a face, discarding the cup on the side table. No self-respecting man should use a paper cup. “Besides, carrying my own head around with me would be a hassle, and the last time I rode a horse was as a child.”

Mariana sighed through her nose and he just noticed a file in her hands. “What’s that?” He gestured toward it, already regretting sitting down with her.

She laid it flat on her lap all squeezed up tight in her pencil skirt and rested a hand on it, her wedding band glinting in the firelight. “This is the file for a student I think should be your assistant.”

She’d shocked him, he’d grant her that. “I think you have me confused with someone else.”

“Just listen?—”

“I don’t need a TA.”

“She’s a grad student, not in the medical college, but she’s truly a gifted mind?—”

stood abruptly. “Fuck’s sake, Mariana. Why would I want a TA that isn’t even in my area of academic expertise?” He turned, his back to the fire. “Has she ever even taken any of my classes?”

Mariana squirmed and he knew the answer. “No, but she is well-versed in postmortem sciences.”

arched an eyebrow. “What is her area of study, then?”

“Botany.”

barked a laugh, and Mariana grimaced. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not. She is a gifted young woman. Ariatne Morrow is her name.” She tossed the file on the side table near ’s discarded coffee. “Have a look. She was raised in a mortuary her parents own and has worked there full-time for the past six years, after undergrad.”

squinted at the closed file, then back at Mariana. The student was a bit older than most, at least. “I don’t need any assistance.”

Mariana tilted her head to one side. “Just let the girl make your copies and bring you coffee. Then, she gets the tuition she needs, and you can do some good.”

glared at her.

“She even works at a morgue here in Dublin now to offset her expenses.”

Now that was intriguing. . . He tried to keep his features even, but judging by Mariana’s wobbly expression, he assumed she was becoming borderline scared of him like everyone else. “A botanist with a background in postmortem sciences.”

Mariana gave a terse nod, her hands folded together in her lap.

turned from her to face the fire, one hand on the mantle, and a thought struck him. He spun slowly back to face Mariana. “You know, Mrs O’Sullivan, I think we can work something out.”

She beamed at him. “Wonderful!”