Monroe rambled on at length, finally ending with a string of grumbling complaints.
"What century are we living in? Who still performs rituals like that these days? Most Wesen are working hard to suppress the inhuman part of themselves now, desperately trying to fit into modern society."
Nick narrowed his eyes slightly and asked in a low voice, "When you say hunting, the prey wouldn't happen to be people, would it?"
Monroe picked up his glass to wet his throat, then paused slightly at the question. "Not necessarily humans. It could be another powerful species. Why do you think we Blutbaden don't get along with Bear Wesen?"
He picked up the beast claw on the table again and examined it, asking in puzzlement, "Where did you get this thing? You haven't already sneaked into a Bear Wesen's home, have you? They aren't very friendly toward anyone who invades their territory."
"No, it came from my Aunt Mary's collection."
That answer made Monroe spray out the mouthful of water he had just swallowed. "That Aunt Mary of yours is back?"
Not only did his voice change pitch, but his eyes even flashed red for an instant. "You know what? She was in my nightmare last night. I dreamed she cut off my head and hung it from a streetlamp. That's exactly what happened to my great-great-grandmother."
Was your great-great-grandmother a capitalist or something? Nick grumbled inwardly before explaining, "Aunt Mary is sick. Very sick. She's in the hospital now."
"Oh, sorry. I'm sorry to hear that." Monroe raised both hands apologetically.
Nick studied him seriously and was surprised to find that his manner was actually sincere when he said that, just like someone's normal reaction to hearing that something had happened to a friend's family member.
"I've got the Grimm's Journals