Something Wild (Child of the Winter Moon Book 1)

39: On the Trail of a Killer

The two decided to give Hubert the benefit of a doubt that he was similar to Regis and was just trying to stay under the Church's radar like every other creature in Novigrad. After splitting up, Juray went to the alleyway. There weren't many people there but a few loitering men and a prostitute. Juray immediately caught the scent of formaldehyde and knew she was in the right place. She knelt finding a toppled brazier and a man's footprint.

"Weight on his heel. Took a step back." She found more footprints leading away. "Ran this way before the guards came."

Juray felt three people walk up behind her. One rushed at her and she swept her leg around, knocking his legs out from under him and the breath from his lungs. The other two attacked as Juray jumped up. She dodged the swing of one and he crashed into his friend and they went down in a jumble. Without missing a beat, Juray grabbed them both by their hair and knocked their heads together. Both went down with a moan, holding their heads but not attempting to stand.

"What the fuck?" Juray said, wondering what prompted the attack. She turned to see the prostitute grabbing her skirt and taking a step back.

"Think you'll gut me too?" she said. "Up your arse, deviant! Whores can fight back!"

"Nobody's gutting anyone," Juray said. "What are you doing here?"

"Getting' vengeance."

Juray just raised a brow.

"Have you not heard killers always come back to the scene of their crime? Me and my brothers were waitin' here to give 'im a warm welcome. For Priscilla. Almost did her in, the whoreson."

"Well, last I checked, I didn't have a prick." Juray indicated the men on the ground. "Those baboons your brothers?"

She nodded.

"Priscilla's a friend of mine, too. I'm here looking for clues as to who would do this to her and find anyone who might know something."

"Can't help you much there, but I can tell you what I know."

"It'll be helpful. How do you know Priscilla?"

"I was lookin' to get out of whorin', pick up a decent trade. But none would take me. Not as a washerwoman, nor a servant, nor a cook. Felt like a leper, I did. But Priscilla, she was different. Agreed to put me in her play. Lots of the other actors, they were afraid on account of her jestin' 'bout the Eternal Fire. Whistling Wendy on stage, can you imagine it?" Wendy sighed. "Dream's gone now. Back to working the streets."

"Sorry to hear that."

"You could do worst as work goes. Or so I tell myself."

"Guess you could be a Witcher."

"Witcherin's an honest trade, at least."

"You're aware that Priscilla wasn't the only victim?"

"Oh, dearie, 'course I was. This didn't start yesterday. Others've died like this before. Beggars, street girls, orphans. But who'd have a dram of concern for them? Human rubbish. It's what the guards call us."

"Recall any names?"

"They didn't have proper names, just what folk would call 'em. No friends, no family. Their bodies were burned long ago."

Juray pressed some crowns into her hand. "Take care of yourself. I need to look around some more. Appreciate it if your brothers didn't disturb me again."