So Albuquerque is just as I left it. Except. I find myself with a room above the Dancing Horse instead of curled up cozy in my own rented flat… and apparently there is fantastical wildlife stalking the streets. If I had gone home to sleep I would have missed the excitement. I think I would have preferred to miss the excitement, but, I do think that I helped save that woman in the street, so perhaps everything panned out the way it was supposed to.
I still don’t know what it was tore that poor woman up. Giant cat? Enormous mountain lion? Mr. Feathers says it is a sort of spirit that bodes no good, but that is the best explanation I have. I didn’t actually see the thing alive, I was busy helping the young lady not to bleed to death (Hush. My daddy says even prostitutes are ladies, they have just fallen on harder circumstances than myself) while the menfolk tracked it down and killed it. Doc Ross has her now.
Aside from that, I spent the day helping Van Helsing follow his leads. Funny man. Seems so competent and experienced, but put him into a situation where he has to talk and he trips over his own tongue. But that is okay. So long as a body is willing to lean close and listen careful, I don’t mind speaking quietly with them.
Now, I’ve washed my hands and arms, but my nightclothes need a good wash, or perhaps I will burn them and treat myself to something new.