The church.

“We should check in at the church,” Venus said. “The sooner we know what’s involved with this job, the sooner we can start.”

“Hmm…” Rondo frowned. “I think it’d be better if I didn’t come with you. The church isn’t famous for its tolerance of werewolves.”

Venus nodded. “I doubt he’d be able to tell, but… yes, it’s probably safer. Why don’t you look around town, and maybe pick up some supplies.”

Mason nodded. “I’ll show him around. Larisa can take you to the church.”

The Cathedral of Carthin was an imposing building, the largest in the bustling city, with ornately carved walls. The main hall was vast, lit by stained glass windows. A pretty, blond teenager in a novice’s robes met Venus, Rose and Larisa. “You are the Shadow Hunters?” she said. “The Bishop will see you.”

They were shown up to the Bishop’s office. He was a fat man in his fifties and, from his velvet robes, the luxurious furniture and art around him and the platters of sweetmeats on his desk, he was not one of those priests who believed in poverty and temperance. As the three women entered, he licked his lips and gave them a look that, were he a less holy man, Venus would have interpreted as lecherous.

“Ah, welcome, I am Bishop Beldan” he said. The Hunters bowed in greeting, and he proceeded to tell them about the job. “A month ago, our church’s Augur made a prophecy. She predicted that demon taint would soon assail the city. Thus, we were prepared when the first rapes began.”

“Rapes?” Rose asked nervously.

“Yes. A dozen women so far. Each a pious young virgin. Each found abandoned naked, stained with the seed of their violation – and with blasphemous symbols drawn on them in their virgin blood.”

“What do they say happened to them?” Venus asked.

“They remember nothing of the incident, and seem unharmed… physically. But a strange madness overtakes them, making them wanton and obsessed with their carnal desires. I have tried holy rites to cast this evil from them, but to no avail.”

“Do you have any leads?”

“I do! There is a cult of the whore-goddess Irilia operating in this city. They must be behind this!”

Venus wasn’t so sure. Irilia was the pagan Goddess of Desire, and was persecuted by the church for the doctrine of lustfulness her followers preached. But they weren’t normally the sort of cult to summon demons.

“I believe they are based in a brothel called the Ruby Blossom. I’ve tried to have it shut down, but many of the senior guards and city councillors sate their lusts with the wicked harlots there. Perhaps one of you could infiltrate it in disguise. The only other option is to look in the cathedral’s records. There are some stories about something like this happening before. I’ve sent some novices down to look for details, and they said they couldn’t find anything. But I don’t think they searched properly – the records are down in the catacombs, and there are superstitious rumours about things living in them. I had them beaten for shirking their duties, of course.”

Venus considered how to proceed. The obvious solution was to talk to the girls who’d been attacked. They might know more than they were telling the priests. Alternatively, investigating the brothel might bear fruit – if it was truly home to a cult of Irilia, they might know something even if they weren’t responsible. And searching the records wasn’t a bad idea. Of course, given she had a team with her, maybe they could split up and cover every angle.

Something occurred to her as she considered – why hadn’t the Bishop mentioned why he’d asked for her specifically? She didn’t quite have the courage to ask him.