Grimm: The Killing Time (27 page)

“Did the Wechselbalg hurt you or your family?” Nick asked.

“No. He scared me a little, that’s all. Well, he scared me a
lot
, but no permanent harm done. So he’s the one who killed those teenagers, right?”

Nick nodded.

“It’s a good thing you haven’t shown yourself yet,” Bud said. “Word spread fast about what you—
he
—did to those poor kids.” Bud hesitated. “And I might’ve told a few people about how you came back to my home and threatened me. Sorry.”

By a
few
people, Nick figured Bud really meant every Wesen he’d come in contact with tonight. When Bud was nervous, he talked. And the more anxiety he felt, the more often he talked. By this point, the entire Hafen probably thought Nick Burkhardt had become a homicidal maniac.
Great
.

“I take it there’s been no sign of the Wechselbalg so far,” Nick said.

Bud suddenly looked nervous again. “No. Why? You think he’s going to come here?”

“That’s what we’re counting on,” Monroe said.

“That would be bad,” Bud said. “
Really
bad. Everyone here is on edge, and some of them are on the verge of losing it altogether. If the fake Nick suddenly showed up and started trying to kill people…”

“Ka-pow,” Monroe said, miming an explosion with his hands.

“Yeah,” Bud said.

“We’ll just have to do our best to make sure that doesn’t happen,” Nick said.

“No offense, Nick,” Bud said. “You’re good, but I don’t see how even you can keep this pot from boiling over sooner or later.”

Nick glanced toward the center of the clearing and saw Rosalee step onto the Speaking Stone.

He smiled.

“Good thing I don’t have to do it alone,” he said.

* * *

The Wechselbalg did his best to move silently through the woods, but it wasn’t easy with the battle-axe in his right hand and the talwar in his left. He still had his Glock tucked into the back of his pants, but he was beginning to wish he’d selected weapons from the trailer that were a little easier to maneuver with through underbrush.

The weapons felt increasingly heavy as he walked, and his legs began to feel thick and awkward, as if his muscles were made of rubber. Sweat ran down his face and neck, trickled along his spine. For the first time since he’d become Nick Burkhardt, he felt himself growing tired, growing weaker. No, not the first time. He recalled the short dizzy spell he’d experienced after slaying the Geier and the Reinigen. Panic stabbed him in the gut as he realized what was happening. This body, which had started out so strong and vital, was beginning to wear thin.

Not again! He’d had such hopes for this body, and despite a few difficulties, he was really enjoying being Nick Burkhardt. He didn’t want it to end—not this soon, at any rate. All of his long life, he’d been careful to avoid standing out, labored to be just another face in the crowd. It felt good to someone special for once, to be a
hero
. And he didn’t want to give that up. Maybe if he—

A rustle in the underbrush off to his left. Not loud. Could be a small animal, frightened by his passage. But his instincts told him it was something else. Something bigger.

The Wechselbalg swung the talwar outward in a sweeping horizontal arc. He felt no resistance as the blade passed through empty air, but he sensed as much as heard someone jumping back to avoid the strike. He spun to his side, raising the battle-axe before him like a shield. He found himself looking into the cold, fierce eyes of a birdlike Wesen, a… Raub-Kondor, Nick’s memories provided. Strong fighter, excellent night vision. No wonder this Wesen was guarding the Hafen’s outer perimeter. With those eyes, he could see better than a soldier equipped with night-vision goggles.

The Raub-Kondor stared at the Wechselbalg for a long moment before uttering a single word.

“Grimm.”

The Wechselbalg smiled, all traces of his previous weariness gone, as if hearing that word alone had restored his vitality. The Wechselbalg expected the Raub-Kondor to raise his taloned fingers and attack, but instead the bird-man tilted his head back. In a flash, the Wechselbalg understood what the Raub-Kondor intended to do—sound the alarm.

The Wecheselbalg hurled the axe, and it sank into the Raub-Kondor’s chest with a solid
thunk
. The man’s eyes widened in shock, and the only sound that emerged from his beak-like mouth was a soft, wet click. The Raub-Kondor was one of the hardier breeds of Wesen, and it remained alive long enough to take three shaky steps away from the Wechselbalg, the axe still embedded in its chest, before it pitched face-first to the ground.

The Wechselbalg stepped over to the Raub-Kondor’s corpse, shoved it onto its back with a foot, then bent down to pull the axe free. He wiped the weapon clean on the man’s clothes, and by the time he’d finished, the Raub-Kondor was well on his way to resuming human form once more.

The rush of adrenaline from the unexpected encounter had done much to wipe away the Wechselbalg’s weariness, but it wasn’t entirely gone. It was because the Other still lived. He needed to complete the duplication process and fully become Nick Burkhardt. Once that was accomplished, the Other would be gone, and his physical condition would stabilize. Everything would be fine then. Just fine. Especially if he got to kill more Wesen along the way.

He continued moving through the forest.

Juliette watched as Rosalee stepped onto the Speaking Stone, feeling as nervous as if she were the one about to address a camp full of frightened, aggressive, fully woged Wesen. Rosalee didn’t say anthing at first, and no one seemed to notice her standing there. But slowly, one person at a time, then by twos and threes, people realized what she had done, and they quieted and turned to face her until she had the full attention of everyone present.

“My name is Rosalee Calvert. Some of you know me. Some of you knew my brother, Freddy. I run the Exotic Spice & Tea Shop in town, and many of you have been our customers at one time or another.”

She paused and a number of Wesen nodded, acknowledging her words. But not everyone was willing to let her talk.

“You forgot to mention that you’re friends with the Grimm!” shouted a female Lausenschlange. The snake-woman followed her statement with an angry hiss.

Several of the assembled Wesen called out their agreement with the Lausenschlange, and a couple even shook their fists in the air, as if parodying an angry mob from an old black-and-white movie. But this was no joke. Juliette knew how on edge the Wesen were, and more than a few of them were no doubt looking for a target to take out their fear and anger on. Juliette hoped Rosalee wasn’t in the process of making herself such a target.

Rosalee continued as if the Lausenslange woman hadn’t spoken.

“All of us have been exposed to… well, it’s not exactly a disease per se, but it functions like one. It’s called the
Ewig Woge
, and as the name implies, it traps us in our Wesen forms. The longer we remain in them, the harder it becomes to control our emotions and natural, instinctive behaviors.”

While everyone else was watching Rosalee, Juliette noted that Hank and Renard were watching the crowd, keeping an eye out for the Wechselbalg as well as anyone who might be tempted to give in to their “instinctive behaviors.”

“We’ve found a treatment for the
Ewig Woge
,” Rosalee said, “but it’s going to take some time to prepare it. In the meantime, we have this.”

That was Juliette’s cue. She took one of the jars of endorphin-enhancer and handed it to Rosalee.

“We need to keep our endorphin levels high to counteract the emotional effects of the
Ewig Woge
. A little of this—” she lifted the jar high so everyone could see it “—applied directly under the nose will help. The first thing we need to do is make sure everyone gets some. That way we can all remain calm while I work on the treatment.”

“What the hell is that stuff?” someone shouted.

“A mixture of lavender and vanilla,” Rosalee said, “along with a few other substances that will intensify the effect on us.”

The crowd was silent for a moment, and then a Drang-Zorn man called out, “You mean we’re supposed to
smell
ourselves calm?”

Laughter spread throughout the crowd, but before Rosalee could respond, the Bauerschwein security guard stepped forward. He raised his hands to get the crowd’s attention, and even though he wasn’t on the Speaking Stone, they gave it to him.

“I know it sounds crazy, but it works,” he said. “Before Rosalee gave me some of the stuff I was so angry, I was ready to tear her and her friends apart.”

“Like to have seen you try it,” Hank murmured softly, and Renard gave him a smile.

“But as soon as I got a whiff, my anger started draining away. I’m still not all the way back to normal, but at least I’m not looking for a fight anymore.”

The cougar-woman came forward and joined the Bauerschwein.

“It worked the same for me,” she said. “How many fights have broken out since we came here? A half-dozen? And how many more
almost
happened?”

No one responded.

Rosalee jumped back in then.

“You all know how hard you’ve been working to control your Wesen side, and you know how close you’ve come to losing that control over the last few hours. Believe me, I’ve been there, too. It’s only a matter of time before you can’t hold on any longer. And when that happens, someone’s going to get hurt. Maybe even killed. You can’t let that happen.
Please
don’t let that happen!”

No one said anything for several moments, then one by one, people came forward and started lining up in front of the Speaking Stone.

Juliette felt the first real sense of hope since this mess had started. Now if everything else worked out as planned…

If
.

Juliette, Hank, and Renard assisted Rosalee, and the four of them each opened a jar of the endorphin-enhancing paste and began applying it to the Wesen in line. Juliette knew it wasn’t right, but she couldn’t help feeling like she was at work, applying medicine to sick animals.

They managed to get through only a handful of Wesen, however, before a Skalengeck woman rushed forward and slapped the jar out of Juliette’s hand. The impact from the lizard-woman’s thick claws caused the jar to shatter, and a mass of shards and paste fell to the ground. Startled, Juliette stepped back, but the Skalengeck woman followed, leaning her scaly face forward in what Juliette recognized as an aggressive stance.

“You damn humans!” she hissed. “I’ve never like your kind, and I’ve always hated having to pretend to be one of you. You think you’re so smart, so strong. But you’re nothing compared to us. Nothing!”

Renard stepped forward and put himself between Juliette and the angry Skalengeck.

“I’m not human,” he said, his voice low and menacing.

The Skalengeck drew her head back when she saw him, but she didn’t retreat.

“Zauberbiest. You’re not much better than human. But you know what’s even worse? Grimms! My daughter and her boyfriend were killed by one tonight. You know why? Because they were spray-painting graffiti. Big-time criminals, huh? My poor girl.” She shook her head. “The things he did to her…” The lizard-woman’s voice broke and her inhuman eyes glistened with tears.

Juliette felt sympathy for the woman, and if Renard hadn’t been standing between them, she would’ve stepped forward and tried to comfort her. But given the state the woman was in, she probably would’ve killed Juliette if she’d made the attempt. So all things considered, she was glad Renard was there.

A Seelengut woman came forward then.

“The Grimm tried to kill me, too. I was lucky to get away.”

From deeper in the crowd, a Klaustreich called out, “It’s true! I was there and he almost killed me, too!”

“Us too!” a young Jagerbar shouted. Another Jagerbar standing at his side nodded vigorously. “We weren’t doing anything when he attacked us!”

A dozen yards from the Jagerbaren, a Luisant-Pêcheur stepped forward.

“Seriously?” the otter-woman said. “You guys were going to tear up my bar because you were fighting over a woman who didn’t want either of you. You’re lucky Nick didn’t beat you up any worse than he did.”

The Jagerbaren glared at the Luisant-Pêcheur and bared their deadly-looking teeth. She glared right back at them, defiant.

Juliette knew that the Hafen was about to explode into violence, and she feared there was nothing they could do to prevent it. She looked from Rosalee, to Hank, and to Renard, but they all appeared just as uncertain as she was.

“Can I have a turn to talk?”

Juliette couldn’t help smiling as Nick appeared, walking through the crowd toward the Speaking Stone. Wesen drew back as he approached, some wary, some fearful, some looking absolutely terrified. Many snarled, hissed, and growled, but many more remained deathly silent as they watched him pass. Monroe and Bud followed behind him, Monroe fixing his crimson-eyed gaze on those few Wesen who looked as if they wanted to rush forward and attack Nick. Bud glanced back and forth, whiskers vibrating with fear. Someone else might’ve thought the Eisbiber looked cowardly, but Juliette knew how hard the man had to fight against his kind’s natural timidity to stand with Nick, and she thought she’d never seen anything braver.

As they reached the center of the clearing, Nick headed for the stone while Monroe and Bud joined the others. Rosalee had already stepped down from the Speaking Stone to administer the endorphin-enhancer, and as Nick stepped up onto it, he looked at Juliette and whispered, “I have no idea what to say.”

She smiled. “You’ve got this.”

He smiled back. “Let’s hope.”

Then he turned to face the crowd, took a deep breath, and began to speak.

* * *

Nick was normally a confident, decisive man. Some of that was due to his natural personality and his police training, but a lot of it was due to how his Aunt Marie had raised him. And he supposed a good portion of it was due to his being a Grimm. After all, you wouldn’t last long in a fight against a predatory Wesen if you couldn’t make quick decisions. But standing there on the Speaking Stone beneath the night sky, looking out at a mass of Wesen faces illuminated by the glow of firelight, he didn’t feel very confident. The men and woman gazed back at him with a mixture of fear and hatred, and he was well aware that if they chose to rush him all at once, there was nothing he could do to prevent them from tearing him limb from limb.