25. Catriona

25

CATRIONA

W e end up in the village hall once more, back in the meeting room, though we're the only people in attendance this time. I hope most of them are in their homes. But Johann and Otis are here, of course, and they fetched Bruno.

" I thought I found it, but it was a bear, " Greg says as Bruno looks at Felix's shoulder. " I'll keep looking. "

"Thank you, Greg," I murmur quietly, hoping the dragon will hear me. "Let us know if you see anything."

"So, you're a tavernkeeper and a doctor?" Felix asks Bruno.

"I was apprenticing a physician in Hellenford before my mother fell ill," he explains. "I had to come back to help with the tavern. So, I'm not licensed, but I'm confident I can fix this. I'll warn you; it's not going to be pleasant. It will, however, be quick."

"That's fine," Felix says. "Just do it."

I watch as Bruno manipulates Felix's arm, wincing when Felix hisses sharply. I've seen the guild's physician do the procedure dozens of times and could have probably done it on my own, but that would arouse suspicions. I think Otis is already wondering why a clockmaker and his wife would rush headlong into danger like we did.

"Does it feel better?" Bruno asks Felix.

He gently rolls his shoulder and nods. "Much."

"I suggest you wear a sling for a few days and give yourself a chance to heal. I'm sure I've got one lying around somewhere."

"We have one," I say, earning surprised looks from the men. They wait for me to elaborate, but I don't bother, blinking quickly as if I'm going to cry again.

The threat of impending tears is enough to divert their attention, and they return their focus to the matter at hand. Hubert lies under a white sheet that came from the tavern's inn.

"Someone needs to get Luther," Johann says.

"I don't want anyone else walking through the village tonight," Otis says heavily. "It'll wait for morning."

Bruno leaves Felix's side, dragging his wooden stool with him, and sits in front of me, frowning at my throat. "You'll have a nasty bruise come morning, but it looks like the scratches aren't too deep."

"Are you going to return to your apprenticeship when your parents come back to the village?" I ask him, glancing down at his nails. They're clean.

"I'd like to." Bruno dabs alcohol on my neck, cleaning the wounds and making me hiss in through my teeth. "But that would leave Braunwin without any sort of doctor."

"Did the village have a doctor before?"

He glances at Otis. "We did."

"He was attacked not long after Thomas," Otis admits.

And that makes three original deaths—the constable, the doctor, and Johann's sister-in-law.

"Those first attacks took place over the course of a year?" Felix asks.

"About that," Otis answers.

And now we've had three deaths in just a week. The monster is getting braver.

"What are we going to do about Millie?" Johann says. "For all we know, she's still out there."

Otis groans from his chair, bending at his waist and sinking his head into his hands.

"I saw her heading back to her place about twenty minutes ago," Cyril says from the doorway, startling us all. "I told her to hurry up and get herself home."

"Blast it all, Cyril, I didn't hear you come in," Otis snaps.

Johann and Bruno exchange a look, watching the outsider warily, and then Johann stands. "What are you doing here? And why are you out alone?"

"No one is going to escort me all the way to my property." Cyril rolls his eyes. "And I heard Hubert's screams and was looking for the monster."

Johann takes a menacing step forward. "How do we know you aren't the monster?"

"Because I'm not." Offended, Cyril mimics the larger, older man's stance.

I sigh to myself, sensing this situation could escalate quickly. I'm about to say something when Otis raises his hand. "We can't let this turn into a witch hunt, men."

Johann looks back, extending his hand toward Cyril. "For all you know, he killed Hubert. He admitted he was out in the woods, and I certainly didn't see him at the time of the attack, did you? He has no alibi."

"Johann," Bruno says calmly. "Let's not be too hasty." He laughs, trying to diffuse the situation. "For all we know, either Mr. or Mrs. Ward could be our werewolf, too."

He meant it as a joke, but then he frowns. All eyes turn on us, suspicion clouding the room. Cyril shifts, uncomfortable.

"There have been three attacks since your arrival," Johann says slowly, his brow knitting as he thinks about it.

"Johann, stop," Otis says. "The attacks started well before Felix and Catriona arrived. They were in the capital for most of them."

"Were they?" Johann says. "How do we really know? Do they have an alibi?"

Felix meets my eyes, giving me a look that says I should have claimed we were attacked by a regular wolf. And he's not wrong.

"They're not werewolves," Cyril argues.

Johann shoots him a dismissive look. "And how would you know?"

"I just know," the young man says defensively.

"The timing is a little suspicious," Bruno says apologetically—like he doesn't think we are, but he can't get the coincidence out of his head now.

"This is ridiculous." I stand, walking over to Otis. "Let me see your hand."

He blinks at me, leaning back slightly. Rolling my eyes, I grab it, examining his fingernails for blood. "You're fine. Johann, now you."

"What are you doing?" he asks, his voice full of suspicion.

"The werewolf scratched us both," I explain. "It's a bit risky, but desperate times and all that."

Felix watches me, half-amused, half-concerned. "Are you sure, Cat?"

"It's my own fault," I tell him, dropping Johann's hands when I find his nails blood-free as well.

Then I step up to the chair I just vacated, pull up the hem of my skirt, and remove my pistol and daggers, setting them on the chair.

The men sit in stunned silence as they watch me. Bruno realizes what's going on first. "You're monster hunters—the ones Luther said the Alliance would quietly send if they suspected there was a werewolf."

"Correct." For good measure, I unpin my GHOST certification pin from my underskirt and toss it to Otis.

The reeve barely catches it, looking dazed, and reads, "Catriona Mason, Guild Certified Monster Hunter."

"What guild are you associated with?" Johann asks.

Otis returns the pin to me. "GHOST, in Valette."

"As in Lord Cunningham's GHOST?" Bruno asks, startled.

"Felix is his son," Cyril says, proud to know something the other men do not.

"Where's your pin?" Johann asks my husband.

"I'm an apprentice." Felix slouches back in his chair, looking particularly nonchalant. "We don't get fancy jewelry."

Johann turns to look at me. "Are the two of you even married?"

"Yes," Felix says firmly, like he's worried I might claim otherwise.

"Why the secrecy?" Otis asks. The poor man is looking a little overwhelmed.

"If they waltzed in and announced themselves, the wolf would have targeted them right away," Cyril says. "We'd have had two dead hunters and a werewolf still on the loose."

"See?" I say to Felix. " He listens when I lecture."

Felix chuckles, and Cyril stands a little taller, proud of himself.

"What makes you so sure one of us isn't the werewolf?" Bruno asks. "Just the lack of blood under our nails? I washed my hands before I examined Felix."

"That's a good point, Catriona," Cyril says. "Should we take him to?—"

"No," I interrupt sharply, shooting him an icy look.

He immediately shuts his mouth, realizing we don't want the world to know about Greg.

"Otis and Johann arrived together—and right after the attack," I answer. "Bruno, you were in the tavern with half a dozen other people. The chance of any of you being our wolf is slim."

"Who do you suspect?" Otis asks.

"I thought it might be Hubert, but…" I gesture to the sheet-covered body.

"And I thought it might be Johann," Felix says.

The shopkeeper jerks in his seat, looking so offended I almost laugh. "Why me?"

"You came to Braunwin at a bad time," I explain.

"What difference does that make?" Otis asks. "Any of us could have been bitten and contracted the disease."

Though I'm not in the mood to give a lesson, I return my weapons to their sheaths and reclaim my seat. It's time to correct the misconceptions. "Let's learn about werewolves, shall we?"