Nick left shortly afterwards, cell phone in hand as he updated Hank on the situation. Nico watched his double leave somberly then glanced back at the two Wesen he had been left with. "So – do you have a pad and pencil I can borrow? I can probably sketch the plants needed to create the herbs used to make the potion."
"You've seen the plants before they were dried?" Rosalee asked, fishing a pencil and a small pad of paper out of the counter drawer. "Not after?"
"Yeah – monastery grows all its own ingredients for healing draughts and salves the Healers temple uses on our people. One group grows them, another group drys them and chops them up for use. I've turned into a pretty good gardener in my spare time – when I'm not on assignment, that is." He glanced at the list of ingredients and began to sketch out the plants that would be dried and made into that item.
"That's the second time you've mentioned a monastery" Monroe commented. "You don't look like the "monk" type to me. Not that I would know what a monk SHOULD look like. Just saying…"
Nico shrugged. "You wouldn't think I look the part, would you? But I've lived off and on in the Dragon Temple since that night. My aunt insisted on my being taken there after the orgy that killed my mother and the village idiots who worshiped the old god with her. It's a peaceful place and use to dealing with kids who have no home to go to. I guess she thought it would be the safest place for me to be while they cleansed our world of the bloodlust of the followers of the cult of Dionysus."
"But you already had a home" Rosalee protested, pulling up a stool to watch him sketch. "You had a father and a brother."
"Neither of which much gave a rat's ass about me after the King rolled through and decimated the coven." Nico made a few more quick, angry strokes then labeled the first drawing and moved on to the next. "My brother, or so the Master of the Temple says, was too young to understand what our mother had done. He simply forgot all about me in the time after the death of our mother, content to live in the world with her presence. My father, however, was another matter. He agreed to allow my aunt to place me in the temple, supposedly to allow the monks to help me get past the trauma of seeing what the Maenads had done and how my mother had died. I waited for weeks for him to turn up to take me home. Weeks that turned into months that finally turned into years – and he never came. The priests of the temple tried to smooth things out for me, always making sure I understood that I had people who cared for me, a home that I would not ever have to leave if I didn't want to. My aunt visited regularly, bringing news of the great battles that were being waged and how my uncles were becoming the King's devoted followers. But she never mentioned my father. I had to hear that he had become the King's Justice Minister from a man who delivered grain to the monastery kitchens. Dear old dad never came to the monastery, couldn't be bothered to check up on me himself. As far as he was concerned – I no longer existed." Nico's voice turned bitter as he quickly drew the next item on the list, his eyes fixed on the page.
Monroe shot Rosalee a quick glance. "Sorry man, didn't mean to bring up bad times."
Nico didn't look up. "No worries. It's all good now."
"When did you become a Queen's guard?" Rosalee asked, hoping to turn the story towards something less painful.
Nico stopped sketching, tapping his pencil on the counter as he thought. "I think I had just turned eighteen. Boys in our world are declared adults very early, especially ones that lived through the Great War. The Master of the Temple asked me what I wanted out of my life and I frankly didn't know what to say. He gave me two alternatives – become a monk in the temple, with all that would entail. Or walk out the gates and find something else to do, a passion to follow that would ignite my soul." He looked up with a grin. "Funny thing, he just happened to have heard that Her Majesty was looking to form another Cadre to run intelligence missions on the realities that bordered our own. A cadre that would travel, see new places, meet different people, and embark on great adventures on a regular basis. And they just MIGHT need a good healer as part of this new unit."
"Sounds like he had it all planned out for you" Monroe rumbled, leaning comfortably on the counter.
"Yeah – that's Master Khan for you. Always looking out for his kids. And he liked me – guess it's because we both grew up fatherless. He could understand me like none of the others, not even the Queen, could." Nico's smile widened. "Of course – that never kept him from kicking my ass in training."
"I'll just bet it didn't" Rosalee laughed. She glanced down at the sketches he had completed. "This first one – I think I recognize it." She turned and brought down a glass jar from a nearby shelf and opened it for the men to see. "Of course this is all either dried or minced but…"
Nico took a quick whiff of the jar and leaned back, coughing. "Yeah – that's the one. I remember that stench – it starts to "marinate" as soon as you cut it. What about the others?"
Rosalee stared closely at the next drawing. "Maybe. Let me pull a couple of things." She turned and with Monroe's help starting pulling other cans and jars from the shelves at Nico continued to sketch.
Outside, two teenagers stared in horror at the door of the Spice Shop. "They have sent Warlock of Cadre Macbeth – the Queen's favorite hunter – to find us!" The boy quivered in fear. "Do you think the rest of the Cadre are here? Do you think the QUEEN is here?"
"No" the girl whispered through pale lips. "If SHE were here, we would all be nothing more than bloodless corpses by now."
"But they must have found the Longtrees!"
"Not necessarily" the girl replied, her eye bright with tears. "Maybe someone in the village called for the King's help when the old ones didn't turn up. We must let Gina know!"
"But we needed those herbs for the ceremony" the boy moaned, wringing his hands. "The god will not appear if we don't make the right draught to allow him passage into our souls. We are nearly out of the herbs we brought with us from home. The last draught wasn't right and the sacrifice was rejected. Our priestess has said nothing more can be done until we have those herbs!"
"The herbalist must leave her shop sometime" the girl muttered, turning and walking quickly down the alleyway. "We'll come back tonight and take what we need when she – and Warlock – are not there. Gina says we so close to finding the right mix. One more try or maybe two and we'll have it right. Then we can raise the god back up from the depths he's been consigned to by the King and his damned consorts. The God will bless us and give us power. You'll see. They will all see – and then we can return to our world and cleanse it of the binding light that keeps our kind at bay." Her eyes gleamed with an almost mad gleam as she and her companion drifted off down the road, back to where their friends had settled for their stay. Back to the house of the one who had issued the invitation to this powerless world. The last of their kind who had escaped the purge. One who was even now teaching them what it was to be Maenad. A priestess of the blood cult hiding amidst the Wesen community.
Back at the precinct
Nick charged into the squad room, signaling Hank to follow him to Captain's office. "We need to talk to Renard" he hissed.
Renard glanced up, disturbed and Nick and Hank barged into his office. "No one ever teach you to knock?" he asked.
"We have a problem. Our current murder case and Nico's missing person search just turned into one great nightmare." Nick glanced around, watching Wu lay the forensics reports on his desk. Quickly he briefed the captain on what he had told Hank by phone.
Renard stared up at his detective coolly. "And you believe him?"
"I didn't believe in Grimms and Wesen until Aunt Marie turned up on my doorstep. Now, hearing some story about a Blutbad / Bauerschwein blood feud is just a part of my daily commute." Nick dropped into the chair in front of Renard's desk. "And even if I didn't buy this whole "different worlds" story, it may still be relevant to our case. The way he described the Maenad's tearing people apart while under the influence sounds suspiciously like what happened to our victim from this morning."
"How do you know he's not the person responsible for the attack?" Renard replied calmly. "We only have his word for…" The captain glanced up as Wu knocked on the door then poked his head in. "What?"
"Just got this sent over from the Chief of Police's office. Looks like Nick's doppelganger's boss just sent verification of his assignment – and formal request for assistance in helping him round up those lost kids." Wu handed the file over to the captain, glancing back at Nick and Hank quizzical. "So where is your double anyway?"
"Took him to a fried to get something for allergies" Nick replied, his eyes fixed on Renard. Something was bothering the captain as he carefully read through the message and the reports. "Captain?"
Renard looked up from the file with a frown. "Looks like Mr. Ainsley's command structure has convinced the Chief and the D.A. to help him. Wu, where are the witness statements from this morning? I'd like to review them myself."
Wu nodded. "I just put them on Nick's desk."
"Good – get them" Renard replied, dismissing the uniformed officer. Wu frowned, then left the office, headed back for the squad room.
"What was that about?" Hank asked, cautiously. "You don't normally review evidence on our cases."
"I needed him gone" Renard replied "Ainsley's boss sent a message for her investigator. Seems they found the bodies of an elderly couple with ties to one of the teens."
"The Longtrees" Nick said quietly. "He told us about them. Said they were very high up in the social structure of that village. And one of their kids is with the runaways."
"Then his problem well and truly is ours" Renard replied, handing the file to Hank. "According to the note – the couple were found under the floorboards of an adjoining cottage, in a well and buried under a load of manure behind the barn. They had been ripped apart – just like your victim from this morning."
