FrankenDom (3 page)

I’d be have to be insane to accept.

After going round and round with myself for hours, I finally gave up the fight. There
were some things a woman just couldn’t live without knowing.

“I’m in,” I said when Colin answered.

I could hear the smile in his voice when he replied, “Welcome to Kilmartin BioTech,
Dr. McBride. I’ll have a messenger there at three o’clock.”

Kicking myself for dithering so long, I filled out all the forms, skimmed over the
employment contract and rushed to the bank to sign all the documents in front of a
notary, barely making it back to my apartment before the messenger arrived to pick
them up.

* * * * *

The next couple of days passed in a blur of shopping, packing, and visiting. My parents
and my older sister Clarissa were thrilled for me—they’d already adjusted to the idea
of my living almost three thousand miles away, so what was another four thousand?
They spent the evening crowded around Dad’s laptop with Clare’s husband Art, looking
up information on Montaneva, a picturesque little speck of a country sandwiched between
Hungary and Romania, and planning a family vacation there next summer.

My younger sister Breanna used their distraction to drag me off to the kitchen and
grill me like a cheese sandwich.

Though Clare and I were closer in age, Bree and I were each other’s best friends.
Clare tended to be a little domineering and a lot demanding, which made her the perfect
army staff sergeant and worked very well for her and easy-going Art. But it had been
a challenge for the rest of the family when we were growing up.

Bree had been a bit of a challenge for my parents, too, just because she was so daring
and outspoken, so completely at ease with herself and others. I’d worried about her
a little, especially during her teens, but I’d also secretly admired her boldness
and wished I were more like her. She was the only one I’d ever said anything to about
Colin—though she got the heavily edited kid-sister cut— and she had plenty to say
about the matter at the moment.

“Are you crazy?” she demanded, plucking a bit of ham from the mostly denuded bone
in the roaster and popping it in her mouth. “You’re going to let that douche canoe
sweep you off to some foreign country nobody’s ever heard of and make you live in
a place called
Bangenschloss
?”

We both snickered—again—but I sobered immediately and said, “I’ve heard of Montaneva.
And don’t talk with your mouth full. It’s gross.”

She stuck her ham-laden tongue out at me. “How do you know he’s really taking you
to Dr. Kilmartin? You said he fell off the radar years ago—what if he’s some serial
killer who’s never caught because he lures women to foreign countries before he rapes,
tortures and kills them? Maybe he’ll make you bang
his
schloss for a year and then grind you up and serve you as wienerschnitzel.”

I rolled my eyes. “Do you even know what wienerschnitzel is?”

“Or wait! Montaneva is right next door to Romania, and Transylvania’s in Romania,
right?” Her eyes grew round. “Oooh! Maybe Dr. Kilmartin is a vampire and Colin the
Cockhead is his human servant, scouring the world for tender-skinned blood slaves
to take home to his master.”

“Bree, where in God’s name do you get these insane ideas?”

“I can read,” she sniffed.

“Well you’re twenty-six years old now, for crying out loud,” I told her severely.
“It’s time you started reading something a little more edifying. Pick up some biographies
at the library or something.”

She blew a raspberry at me and I grimaced, brushing imaginary bits of ham from the
sleeve of my sweater.

“Seriously, Rae, this doesn’t feel right to me. You shouldn’t let someone who already
hurt you once take you so far away from the people who can protect you.”

“What, like you’re Buffy or something?”

“Hey, I can kill a man with nothing more than an air bubble,” she said with a narrow
look, “but that’s not what I’m talking about.”

“I know,” I said in a conciliatory tone. “Come on, you know it was mainly my pride
that was hurt, and I’m the one who told Colin to get out, remember? If anyone should
be worried, it’s him.”

“You didn’t mean forever and the cockhead knew it,” she said doggedly. “And you had
feelings for both of them.”

“I had a fangirl crush on Julian just like every other resident in the building, and
Colin was just a—”

“Substitute?”

“Fling.” I flung a piece of ham fat at her. “He was great in bed, that’s all.”

“That’s it. I’m coming to visit you for Christmas. I have three weeks coming to me,
and all the nurses on the floor owe me big-time because I’m the only one who’s single.”

Uh-oh. I wasn’t allowed visitors for the first three months. “That might not be the
best idea. We’re going to be really deep into this project.”

Her blue eyes narrowed. “You can’t have visitors, can you?”

“It’s a top secret project.” It sounded weak even to my ears.

“Well there’s nothing that says I can’t meet you in town, is there?”

“Of course not,” I said brightly. “Maybe I can get a day or two off and we can do
some sightseeing while you’re there.”

“Okay then,” she said, marginally pacified.

“Hey, are you girls eating all the ham?” Art said, pulling up a chair and taking a
defensive stance over the ham bone.

Bree put up her hands. “Easy, boy, it’s all yours.”

“You only say that because you know it’s true.” He looked at me. “The name of that
place you’re going to, Bangenschloss?”

Bree and I both snickered.

“Grow up, girls. Schloss means castle. We looked it up on a German translation site.
And believe it or not, Bangenschloss really is an ancient castle.”

A vision of me emptying a chamber pot out the castle window onto the heads of unsuspecting
peasants below made me shudder. “I assume it’s been updated with indoor plumbing?”

“I’d think so. A couple of articles mentioned extensive renovations.”

“Of course. They wouldn’t have put in labs with no bathrooms. Cool, then I’m down
with a castle. Were there any photos?” I asked eagerly.

“As a matter of fact, no. We couldn’t find a single one, which is really weird in
this day and age. Not even a Google Earth image.”

“Money buys privacy,” Bree said in a disgusted tone.

“Yeah, that’s why the tabloids are filled with pictures of movie stars without makeup
or Spanx.”

It was Art’s turn to receive a hammy raspberry.

“So what does
bangen
mean?” I asked.

“Well, apparently it could either mean fear or awe.”

Bree stared at him. “You’re shitting me. Castle of Fear? Really?”

“Castle of Awe, with a mote of awesome sauce,” I said decisively. “I can’t wait to
get there.”

October 16

By the time the limo passed through the little village of Kander and started the last
leg of the journey deep into the woods of Montaneva, I was wired for sound. I’d slept
for three or four hours—a good night’s sleep for me—at a London hotel when my connecting
flight was cancelled due to weather, so rather than battling fatigue, I’d spent most
of today’s trip trying unsuccessfully to dial back my excitement a little. Dr. Kilmartin
had hired me as a surgeon. Period. End of story. If there were something more personal
on his agenda, Colin would have said so, right? Or the man would have come himself.

Right?

Yeah, that’s what I kept telling myself, but I couldn’t help vibrating with nervous
anticipation.

“Pardon me, Dr. McBride, but we are arriving at Bangenschloss
.
”

Startled out of my reverie, I jerked upright. “Awesome. As much as I enjoy it, I’m
ready to be done with traveling for a while.”

The handsome, brown-haired limo driver, who’d introduced himself simply as Dirk, nodded
knowingly as he turned in between two imposing wrought-iron gates and headed up a
rutted gravel drive. “I have been to the States many times in my life,” he said, meeting
my eyes in the rear view mirror. “It is a long trip.”

That explained his excellent English.

“Very long,” I agreed. My eyes widened as we rolled to a stop, then I blinked repeatedly.
“Are you sure this is it?”

“I’m sure. I’ve been here many times.”

He hopped out and hustled around to open my door while I stared out the tinted window
at the pile of rough-hewn limestone that was to be my working home for the next two
years. Bree and I had laughed because the name sounded kind of dirty, but I wasn’t
laughing now.

Bangenschloss
was
dirty, and not in a fun way. Square, squat, and as gray and foreboding as the storm
clouds boiling up behind it, the castle had an eternity’s worth of filth drizzling
down its mottled façade.

Good God, maybe I
would
be emptying a chamber pot out my window.

Assuming I could get it open without sending a bunch of baby birds plummeting to their
deaths. The sills of the narrow mullioned windows bristled with nests.

And the two crenellated towers visible from this angle were riddled with holes and
gouges, as if they’d taken a blast from God’s own shotgun. Hopefully that wasn’t their
idea of air conditioning.

 “Dr. McBride?” Dirk was standing there with his hand out.

Bemused by the courtly gesture, I hooked my purse and laptop over my shoulder and
let him help me out of the limo. A quick glance around revealed that the grounds were
almost as neglected as the castle. A jungle of weeds had pushed their way up between
the cobblestones of the courtyard, the scattered ornamental shrubs were overgrown,
and if there were any flower beds on the gently rolling grounds, I couldn’t see them
for the grass, which had long since gone to seed. The whole place looked unkempt and
unwelcoming, and so far from the sparkling Disney-esque palace of my imagination it
was almost laughable.

“No wonder there are no pictures on the internet,” I murmured. “The poor thing is
probably embarrassed to be seen.”

When I caught Dirk’s haughty look, heat prickled in my cheeks. “Sorry, that was tactless
of me. I was told the castle had been renovated.”

“The interior
was
extensively renovated,” he grunted as he grappled with the larger of my two bags.
“And the castle was reroofed. It is now a palace fit for a king and all his minions.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” I said quickly, though I had a feeling his idea of a palace
and mine might be worlds apart.
Note to self: Don’t diss the palace in front of the minions.

But I knew there had to be a state-of-the-art research facility in there somewhere.
Dr. Kilmartin’s personal assistant Vince had said during our brief phone conversation
that I could bring whatever electronics I wanted because the entire castle had been
rewired with 110-volt outlets—which was why I’d anticipated lots of glass and steel,
with immaculately manicured, if utilitarian, grounds. Why would he go to all the trouble
and expense of renovating the interior and then let the exterior go to hell like this?

Something must be wrong. The exacting neurosurgeon who’d made all the residents quake
in their sneakers when he walked by would never let anything in his possession deteriorate
this way.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, and I shivered as a gust of rainy-smelling wind whipped
up a funnel of leaves in the barren courtyard, plastering my pleated skirt against
my thighs. Fortunately, I’d worn black tights and ankle boots so I didn’t have to
worry about flashing anyone.

Dirk finally got my bag over the edge of the trunk and let it thump onto the gravel
next to my guitar. I’d brought everything I could possibly fit into two bags, and
that one was so overweight, it would have cost an arm and a leg to get it on the plane
if I hadn’t been flying first class.

He strapped the smaller bag to the larger, then picked up my guitar and turned. “If
you will follow me, Dr. McBride.”

Wow, talk about service. A cabbie—especially one I’d offended—would have dumped my
bags on the ground and left me to haul them in myself.

I followed him through the courtyard and was surprised when he veered away from the
badly weathered front doors. He rolled my bags along a cobblestone path at the foot
of the castle and disappeared around the corner.

When I caught up with him, I had to stop and gape. There was a tremendous white wind
turbine practically right there in the back yard, its slender blades spinning lazily
in spite of the blustery wind. How had I not seen that? It towered over the castle
and the surrounding forest of trees, looking very out of place in the primeval setting.

“Dr. McBride, this way, if you please.”

I tore my eyes away to find Dirk waiting for me, gesturing impatiently up a short
run of steps with a framed ramp for wheelchair access on the side. He was certainly
arrogant for a limo driver, but then it seemed like really good-looking men always
were, no matter how lowly their occupation. His erect bearing and strong Slavic features
radiated command, and I wondered if he might have spent some time in the military.

Another rumble of thunder, this one louder, had me hurrying up the steps to the small
wooden deck and ringing the doorbell. It took a few minutes, but the door finally
opened and a cheerful young redhead with a Van Dyke beard emerged.

“You must be Dr. McBride. I’m Vince Price, Dr. Kilmartin’s personal assistant. And
before you ask,” he said with a grin, “yes, it’s short for Vincent. I think that’s
the main reason he hired me.”

I couldn’t help smiling as I shook the hand he held out. “I wouldn’t be that rude.”

Dirk snorted and Vince gave him a quizzical look. I just ignored him. After all, I’d
already apologized, and he was the limo driver, not the master of the house. If anyone
should be bowing and scraping, it was him.