"It was a really brave thing you did, identifying that woman."
Xavier said nothing. He felt many things, fear and exhaustion and pain swelling in his face where they'd hit him. Bravery was the last thing he felt.
"Did they tell you why they took you?"
He looked out of the window for a moment, allowing the street lights to catch his eyes and his mind.
"No, they- uh.."
It hurt to speak. He could not get the taste of blood out of his mouth. He wished he could do his wesen name justice and hide in his snail shell until all of this blew over. But he was nothing like a snail. The Grimm who named his species must have been high on something more potent than the herbs in Rosalee's shop.
"They just kept me tied up and blindfolded all the time", he lied.
Xavier did not have the heart to admit the entire truth, even if he had nothing to hide. He had not told his kidnappers about the guy in the photo. About Monroe. He just let them beat him, and still, he felt bad.
"How did you escape?"
"Can- can we not talk about this, please?", the baker pleaded.
He almost regretted that Rosalee had volunteered to drive him home, even if she was a friend. Or, rather, Monroe was a friend and Rosalee was his wife. Still, Xavier had expected the police to offer him some kind of witness protection. Was that not the standard procedure? Well, what did he know.
"I'm sorry."
Rosalee's apology sounded a little more intense than necessary. She was quiet for a while, but there was a sudden depth to her voice as she spoke again, something Xavier could not put his finger on.
"I'm just thinking, have you never wondered why they let you go?"
The baker turned to gaze at her in surprise.
"Eh?"
"I mean, these guys are hardcore, they're murderers, but they can't even tie you up properly? Let's face it, Xavier, you're no Houdini."
Rosalee gave a joyless laugh.
"That's what Monroe would say, right?"
There was something off about the way the Fuchsbau said her husband's name. It gave Xavier the chills. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, not entirely sure what was happening here.
"And they all let you see their faces too, even the ones with a police record. That was convenient.."
"What -", Xavier licked his dry lips, "what are you saying?"
"The question is, what aren't you?"
Rosalee gave him her usual sweet smile but it looked strangely incongruous on her face. Street lights were flashing in her eyes every couple of seconds.
"You never wondered why they showed you a picture of my husband?"
Xavier's stomach curled into an icy knot. He stared at her smirk for a few long moments before they were both dipped in shadow. Rosalee turned into a narrow alleyway.
"Rosalee, this is not-", the baker's fingers were running along the spongy material of the door, "this is not the way home.."
"I know."
He found the little metal handle and gripped it, ready to pull.
"What's going on, Rosalee? I didn't tell them anything about Monroe, I swear! Stop the car!"
To his surprise she obeyed, cutting both the engine and the headlights. They halted in the dimly lit road. There was not a car in sight. Not a soul.
"What's wrong?" Xavier tugged at the door handle in mounting panic, to no avail. "How did you find out about -"
He knew. He was not ready to believe it yet, but he knew. It was as striking as the amber glow in the fuchsbau's eyes.
"Oh God..", he whispered, paralysed. "You're one of them.."
"I'll tell you why they showed you the photograph, Xavier."
Rosalee woged. He could not see it, but he heard it. He felt a wave of heat emanating from her animal body, desperately trying to stop himself from responding in like. A hasenfussige schnecke was more vulnerable in their true state. But he couldn't help it.
"You deserve to know why you had to die", the fox growled, "it's all his fault!"
That was the last thing Xavier heard before his trachea was detached from his throat.
Rosalee closed her eyes, taking quick, shallow breaths. The stench of warm blood was unbearable and she returned to her less sensitive human senses, wiping her fingers on Xavier's shirt before picking up her phone. She dialled the number.
"Is it done?"
The shopkeeper held a fist to her mouth, retching at the sound of Dallas's voice. It did not help much. Her skin smelled like salt and copper.
"Rosalee, dear?"
"I took care of him."
She unbuckled Xavier's belt with the other hand and deactivated the safety lock, reaching across to open his door.
"They left for the factory, fifteen minutes ago. I saw them leave."
"Good girl."
Rosalee grimaced against the phone.
"Remember our agreement", she pressed out.
Dallas was silent for a moment.
"Are you sure it's what you want? We could -"
"Yes."
"Alright", the skalengeck chuckled, making her stomach churn. "Don't worry, he'll die a painful death. They all will."
"Good. I'll be there."
Rosalee quickly hung up, rolled down her window and threw up onto the tarmac. It was time. She rolled it back up and rummaged anxiously through the glove compartment until she felt the cool metal of the pill box against her palm. She opened it with shaking fingers and swallowed the two remaining tablets at once, four times the usual dosage. Then she leaned back into the headrest, wiping her mouth. It was okay. Dallas would have some more Jay for her tonight. She had to rush.
The fox groaned as she pushed Xavier's dead body out onto the street, closing the door and starting the engine. She could already feel the drug spreading through her system like a warm carpet. Driving was not a problem, she had years of experience living with an addiction. Hiding it. Functioning. Monroe had not even noticed its return. His mind had been elsewhere for a while now.
Nick threw a nervous glance back at the gang. A lot of the attackers seemed to have targeted Monroe. Well, it was some sort of civil war, after all, but he could not bear the thought of losing his best friend to yet another wesen-on-wesen conflict. Not after the whole Wesenrein thing, not after the way it had made him feel.
"Bolt the door after me."
He inched into what looked like the main factory hall, gun at the ready. It wasn't what he expected to find. The dingy floor was littered with bodies, most dead, some in their final throes, struggling, losing. Nick frowned. There was a slim figure crouched by one of the corpses a little further down the hall, shaking it by its shoulders. A female figure.
"You stupid son of a bitch!"
Nick huffed in surprise as he recognised the voice, even if not the kind of language it uttered.
"Rosalee?"
She visibly jumped, instantly getting to her feet.
"What are you doing here?" He started walking towards her. "How did you get here? Did you see what happened?"
"No."
The fuchsbau's expression was oddly blank and stony as he came closer. Her light-coloured jacket and plaid shirt were soaked in blood.
"I just arrived."
A few more steps and Nick recognised the body Rosalee had been bent over.
"Glad you're okay, this was a trap", he lowered his gun, turning around. "Hey guys, Cruz is dead! Rosalee's here.."
He could not get his head around all of this. Something didn't fit.
"Is Xavier safe? What did you want with Cruz? Did you -"
Nick was momentarily distracted by the rest of the group entering the hall. He could not quite explain how he suddenly found himself in a near chokehold with the Glock snatched out of his hand and pressed to his head. His first thought was that he must have have missed one of Dallas's guys. His second thought wasn't really a thought, just a cloud of confusion.
"One step closer and he dies", Rosalee snarled, mere inches from his ear, jerking him around to face the others. Everyone stopped dead in their tracks, looking suitably horrified. "You were all supposed to be dead by now!"
There were moments of astonished silence. Nick was so gobsmacked he froze, not even struggling against Rosalee's arm. The captain was the first to rediscover his voice.
"You were working with Cruz." It wasn't even a question. "You and Arivaca set us up."
"What?" Monroe laughed out nervously, "Dude, are you crazy? That's ridiculous. Rosalee, what are you doing?"
"Xavier had no idea!"
"Come on, honey, that's not funny.."
Monroe made a step towards her and she instantly took one back, dragging Nick along and pushing the gun even harder against his temple.
"I killed Xavier", she hissed, "I ripped out his throat. Don't think I won't kill him."
"Okay, okay..", Nick lifted his hand a little, asking Monroe to stop, and he obeyed, staring at them both in speechless shock. The detective already realised one thing that the clockmaker did not: Rosalee wasn't lying. He had been threatened often enough to know when someone meant it. And she was strong, much, much stronger than her slim frame would suggest. She was holding him in an iron grip and the gun was ready to fire, Nick had made sure of that himself. Still, he felt strangely calm. This was all too surreal. Whatever was happening, it was bound to resolve itself soon.
"Rosalee..", he tried to make do with what little air he was allowed, "..what are they threatening you with? We can help.. Let me go and we find some.."
".. it can't be true..", Monroe muttered, ".. you.. Xavier.. that Dallas guy.. what.."
"It can't be true?" Rosalee mocked him, loud enough for everyone to hear. "How d'you think they found out which shops are wesens'? And what a coincidence that mine was spared! Did you really think I could support a shop like that in the middle of Portland just by selling the odd tea to some senile mauzhertz? Not working with the bad guys? Not selling the real stuff under the table? Did you think Freddy's old suppliers would just leave me alone?" The fuchsbau's voice was growing higher pitched with each new sentence and Monroe's eyes were widening in turn. "Have you actually seen the shop being busy? Ever? With people who didn't just want my help for free? How naive are you!"
".. what.. that's nonsense, Rosalee.. I'm running the shop with you.. I've seen the books.. I know every single -"
"I'm a fuchsbau,Monroe!"
"Uh, guys..", Nick chipped in, starting to feel decidedly light-headed. The gun was cold against his skin. He could see his colleagues exchanging puzzled glances in the background, listening in on this surreal dialogue, hands on their holsters. He caught the captain's eye and silently begged him not to use force.
".. but.. I don't understand..", Monroe was still in denial, "Dallas.. you said he killed your friends.."
"Friends!" Rosalee chuckled. "Do you even know what that word meant at the time? Friends meant we were begging in the streets and doing Jay together in some dirty old digs! Friends meant they raped me when I was too high to even even care.. Dallas was useful!"
"Oh God", the blutbad growled, red-eyed. "What has that bastard done to you? What has -"
"What has he done?"
This time, Rosalee laughed out so hysterically that everyone jumped and cursed.
"He's not the one at fault!"
"Wha- ?"
"Believe me, I wanted to tell you, I trusted you, I thought, maybe I could get out of all this mess, one day. But you were too busy fucking someone else!"
Nick gasped, suddenly weak at the knees. Rosalee was shivering against him. He could feel the heat of her body even through the thick layers of both their clothing. Her arm was hard and hairy against his throat. He wasn't sure what was worse, being slowly chocked by her, the gun, the brutal pain on Monroe's face, in his eyes that had retreated back to the darkest brown. Or knowing that all of this was his fault. For once he wished his ears weren't so sensitive, that he didn't have to listen to his colleagues murmuring amongst themselves, to hear Wu lean over to Hank and ask whether Nick had caught Monroe in flagrante with someone, or something like that?
He was surprised to hear Hank speak for the first time.
"Rosalee, what the hell? This has nothing to do with Nick, let him go!"
"Is that so?" The fuchsbau exclaimed with mad, vicious glee, so unlike her usual softly-spoken manner. "Would you like to tell them, Monroe, honey.. or shall I tell them about our best friend."
As if by magic, all background voices instantly cut off. Hank and Wu gaped at Nick, then each other, then Nick again.
"Wait, does she mean..", Wu whispered in Hank's ear.
Nick wished Rosalee knew how to apply a proper chokehold so he could pass out already. Renard was the only one who didn't seem fazed, he was simply frowning at Nick with that unhelpfully patronising 'I could have told you it won't end well' look on his face. And then Nick finally knew what the worst thing was. It was the way Rosalee had pronounced the word friend, in the exact same sarcastic manner as before. He closed his eyes and focused on getting oxygen into his lungs. He just couldn't take the sight of Monroe's melting face any longer.
".. but Rosalee..", Nick heard him mumble, as if coming from inside of his own head, ".. you knew.. you said it was okay.. you said you were sorry when it ended.."
"And they broke up already?", Wu whispered in Hank's ear, "How did we miss all of that?"
".. please.. let's not talk about it here.. let Nick go and -"
"You really thought I'd be okay with your rainbow-sprinkled hippie idea of marriage?"
".. well, you said -"
"Because I love you!"
All of a sudden, Rosalee was screaming with such ferocity it forced Nick's eyes to snap back open.
"I was too scared to lose you! I even put up with your godawful Christmas decorations!"
He thought his head was going to explode.
"I even let you knot me, d'you even imagine how painful that was!"
Monroe was looking more and more like a kicked puppy, utterly helpless.
"What does 'knot' mean?", Wu whispered in Hank's ear.
"Because I thought that, maybe, maybe, you could love me at least half as much as you love Nick, that you married me for a reason, not just because you thought you could never have him! But now.. now.. I.. God.."
She was shaking more and more violently with each thick, broken syllable, the muzzle of the gun bumping against Nick's temple. He knew there was a good chance she was going to press the trigger simply by accident. He knew he deserved it, too.
".. it's not true..", Monroe wailed, ".. it's not true, I married you, I love you, let Nick go, please.."
Rosalee only tightened her grip on the detective in response, blackening his vision. Now could be his last chance to speak, not in order to beg, just -
"I'm sorry..", he croaked, desperately clawing at Rosalee's unyielding arm. "I'm so sorry, Rosalee.. I didn't meant to.."
"Oh, you just fucked him by accident?"
".. this isn't you Rosalee..", Monroe was visibly struggling to get his wet, trembling lips to move, ".. please stop this.. we can talk.. this isn't you.. you are -"
"What am I?", The fox snarled, "Always caring and good to everyone? Oh, sweet Rosalee, come help us with all our problems! Oh, kind Rosalee, please drop everything and help me with my fucking spawn and his goddamn stupid girl name!"
Nick's hands curled into fists on their own accord.
"And who's there for me when I need it?!"
".. we all are, Rosalee", Monroe pleaded breathlessly, "I promise, I -"
"Oh, you are!" She cut him off, sneering. "All of you! You don't even know I can never have babies, Jay will do that to your body! You don't even know I've been buying it from Dallas for months! And none of my dear friends even noticed, not one! None of you cares!"
Monroe stared at her open-mouthed, just as shocked as the rest of them.
"You think you're the only one with claws, Monroe? You think you're the only one with all these feelings?!"
"What's 'Jay'?", Wu whispered in Hank's ear.
"Will you shut up!", Hank snapped.
Nick barely took in any of that. His consciousness was being slowly erased by the chilling numbness spreading through his body. His neck twisted all by itself and he looked up at the fuchsbau's face, into her wild, crazy eyes, her irises swallowed up by gleaming pupils. There was nothing of Rosalee left in there. She was all clouds and lightning. It must have been brewing for a while and he missed it completely. It was the perfect storm.
As if through a veil of grey, he saw Monroe making a step towards them once again, whether it was to save him or Rosalee Nick did not know. But he took it as a last, hopeless opportunity to try and break free.
A gunshot ripped through the air. Plaster came crumbling down from the ceiling, covering them in dust. Rosalee pressed the hot muzzle to his skin, burning him.
"Don't even think.."
"Rosalee", the captain finally stepped in, not quite succeeding to hide his genuine concern behind the authoritative voice. "Be reasonable. There is more at stake here than your revenge."
"A guy who gave away his own daughter would say that!", Rosalee laughed bitterly.
"What do you want?!", Monroe shrieked, dropping to his knees and finally dissolving in tears. "I'll do anything.. anything.. just don't hurt him.. please.. I'm sorry.. I'm so sorry..", he was tearing at his own curls in exasperation, "I love you both the same, how does neither of your idiots get that! I thought we were all happy.. that's all I ever wanted.. all I wanted.."
He broke down in heart-breaking sobs. Rosalee sniffed quietly in Nick's ear.
"We'll see about that", she muttered, strangely calm. "I'll count to five. Then I'll shoot. Nick. Or myself. Your choice. One."
No! -
- Don't! -
Are you crazy? -
All the voices merged together, shouting incoherently.
"Two."
Nick felt his legs give in, but Rosalee held him up mercilessly.
"Three."
He screwed up his eyes. There were faint clicking sounds. His colleagues were going to shoot. Somebody was going to die. Did it really matter who?
"Fo-"
Nick dropped to the floor, coughing and wheezing. The arm around his throat was gone. There was a high-pitched scream, then a dull thud. He forced himself to look up. The fog was dissipating and he could see Monroe bent over Rosalee's body sprawled out on the floor, over by the wall, saying her name over and over again. There were hands on Nick's shoulders, helping him up.
A thin figure was emerging from the darkness between two heavy shelf units. All the men were staring at her in astonishment, all but Monroe. A young blonde woman stepped into the dim light of the hall, maybe eighteen, judging by her figure. But her face was that of a child. Her eyes were focused on just one single person.
"Hello, daddy", she said.