Monroe had started to field calls the moment some of Nick's friends had gotten wind of what had happened. Zoe was the first to call and the blutbad wondered if all that excitement wouldn't get her into premature labor. He tried to calm her down, told her that things were under control and no, they didn't need a small, furry amazon to defend their local Grimm.
Bud was next. The eisbiber promised to set up a guard around Nick's house and Monroe rolled his eyes. But he was glad someone offered.

Victoria's call was almost business-like, but her worry swung through. From the noise level in the background, Monroe figured she was in some kind of bar.

Drew was almost immediately ringing through the moment Monroe had hung up after saying his good-byes to Victoria. His tentative questions had the blutbad smile and he reassured the klaustreich as well, telling him to say hi to Roddy. Drew promised to let others know, like Holly, who had taken a liking to the two boys. Not that Roddy felt will with a female blutbad as a friend. He had reluctantly warmed to the young woman, especially since she tried very hard to fit in and keep her wesen side in check, but he never met her alone. Reinigen simply had a very strong survival instinct.

Rosalee came down the stairs when he had hung up on Bud and she smiled. "He's fine. Sleeping, hopefully. He needs some more rest and with his rather healthy disposition and the herbs Nick should be better in the morning. His ribs need time, but everything else is more of a bother than a danger."

Everyone was visible relieved by her verdict and Frank offered coffee and tea.

They accepted.

It was that weird little moment again when Monroe wondered how so different wesen, such different natures, had come together because of their Grimm. Not every wesen he helped had such friendly feelings for Nick, but he had a good collection of various allies from all over the wesen spectrum. The one time Monroe had made a passing reference to Pokemon, Nick had thrown a pillow at him.

Monroe savored the tea and ate some chips, then he and Rosalee excused themselves to get home.

"Call," the fuchsbau told Frank. "Should he get worse or aggravate his injuries. Any time, night or day."

"I will."

Then they were on their way home in Monroe's Bug.

He couldn't shake his worry. He couldn't but worry anyway. Nick was prone to get into trouble because of his nature and his heritage. Recently the trouble had come in form of things sent to kill him.

Not good.

Yeah, the worry was stronger than before, but they would keep him safe until whatever had drawn Renard away was gone.

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He had actually dozed off once again, falling into a deep, rather refreshing sleep, and only woke when sunlight streamed through the windows.

Frank was in the kitchen, buttering toast, when Nick came out of the shower. Hair still damp, he had thrown on an old sweater and faded blue jeans; not his own. It was already nine a.m., which was rather late for him to get up, but his body had had a different opinion about rest.

The jagerbar looked up as Nick walked into the kitchen, giving him a critical once-over. Nick silently poured himself some coffee and then leaned against the kitchen counter. Frank held his recharged cell phone out for him to take. There was a light blinking insistently.

"I think you received a few messages," he remarked.

"About yesterday…" Nick started almost at the same time.

The lawyer shook his head. "To be expected. I understand little of the psychic connection, but what Monroe and Rosalee told me, it makes a lot of sense."

"Yeah, well, it's still…"

"Nick," Frank interrupted him, voice even and serious. "You've dealt with a lot of different wesen, driven by instinct or fear or just hormones. Like Barry. You found it in you to stop them without killing them, and you forgave them."

Nick was silent.

"Find it in you to accept that right now you're just as close to the edge as some of us have been in the past. You know it now, you can feel it coming, and you can control it. Maybe it's in your blood. Maybe Grimms go through a kind of adolescence as well. You have already chosen to be more than your ancestors and our tales. And should you really overstep a line, we're there to push you back."

He took his buttered toast and this morning's newspaper and walked over to the table. The way he was dressed – crisp, white shirt, tie, suit jacket hanging over the back of his chair - Frank was off to court today.

Nick was silent, chewing on the words, then decided not to mull over what had happened too much. Like Rosalee had said, Renard had left him with a huge mess to deal with, and there were killers after him, so he had to have his head on straight, not wonder about what might have happened if.

He checked his phone and groaned silently. He had missed two calls from Hank, who had then written him a text. There was also a message from Bud, one from Zoe, one from Victoria. And there were a few missed calls from a number without a name, but one he knew. It was the one Andrew had sent him. No messages had been left and Nick checked his texts.

And yes, there was one from the schwanensee.

'M is home. Call when you can.'

That was all. And it had been over twenty-four hours ago.

Nick looked at the simple words, then picked up his mug and walked outside, letting the door close after him with a soft click. He didn't check the time in England, simply dialed and waited.

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Frank simply saved his data and closed the laptop, then slipped into his suit jacket. He didn't try to listen in to the conversation outside and he told Barry to keep guard but not spy on Nick.

"Like I would, dad!" he protested.

Frank only smiled, squeezed his shoulder, then he left the house and walked to his car.

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The property of the Rabes was large and there were no immediate neighbors. At least none someone could see. Several miles down the road was a gate that led to another house, and more miles past that another. It was truly a quiet area. Those who lived here wanted that quiet for one reason or another.

Past the forest that took up most the land, across an invisible border, through more forest, led a well-trodden path. Generations had used it and more probably would. Like the Rabes, the Colberts were an old family of no longer so traditional jagerbars. At least when it came to the roh-hatz. John Colbert had taught his sons and daughter about their heritage, but he had been as aghast as Frank had been to find out that Diana Rabe had tried to bring back the barbaric tradition of the roh-hatz. His sons had suffered just like Barry and he knew it had taught them a lesson. Like Barry they had come around.

Jason had served community hours and John had done everything in his powers to help his oldest son rehabilitate. It had been a success. He had gone off to college. Thomas Brandon, T.B., was still attending high-school. Like his older brother he had served community hours and like Jason his life had changed.

Janet, his only daughter and older than her two brothers, had left the house two years ago to study medicine. She was completing an internship next month. That meant only T.B. was home when John saw the stranger. They had taken a ride with the ATVs to check on some of the older trees and Colbert stopped his examination of the giant trees.

The stranger wasn't from around here. He could almost taste it on him. He didn't belong to this territory. He was an intruder.

The man was Asian, graying temples, unshaven His eyes looked hard; the eyes of a killer. A tattoo on his left temple stood out. John thought it looked like a star or a snowflake.

There was also no mistaking what he was.

Colbert felt teeth grow.

Dressed in dark clothes, carrying something on his back, the schakal moved quickly and with intent through the forest. Trespassing. Colbert almost laughed as the word came to mind. He didn't really need a legal excuse to go after the schakal. Jagerbars and schakale didn't really mix very well. But he knew the law; jagerbars had an affinity for the justice system and Colbert no less than Rabe.

"Dad?" T.B. asked quietly.

The older jagerbar felt a growl rise as he sniffed the air. He gestured at his son to follow him and the two followed the intruder.

The schakal used the old path, unaware that he was being shadowed, and was fast approaching the Rabes' home.

"Schakal," T.B. murmured when they circled around some trees and he finally got a sniff of the true nature of the trespasser as well.

Colbert bared his teeth, his features fluctuating. They were now close enough to their neighbor's house to see someone in the back garden.

T.B. tensed. John recognized the young Grimm. He looked beat up and a bit pale, and he knew from Frank's brief call what had happened. While he was in the man's debt for sparing his sons, Colbert had never approached him. It was actually the first time in a long time that he had seen Nick Burkhardt.

And right now the schakal was seeing him, too. Through the scope of a rifle.

John didn't really think when he moved, aware that his son was right beside him, and the schakal had only a brief moment to be surprised before two jagerbars were upon him. Not even a scream escaped from his throat before it was ripped out.

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Talking to Andrew had alleviated his fears a little. Mireille was home, safe and sound, a little more worn and a lot more banged up than usual after a so-called business meeting, but she was alive. Andrew sounded angry and relieved in one. Angry because Mireille hadn't talked with him about what was going on; relieved because his wife was home and alive and safe.

The female Guardian of London sounded good-natured enough, though some of her usual banter was missing.

"Sean will be back soon," she told Nick. "He'll tell you what happened. Until then, keep safe, Nick."

"I will."

"I'm really fine," she repeated what she had said already, apparently sensing his doubt. "My kind is hard to kill."

"But you can be killed. And something was out there that had you take that chance."

She was silent for a second, a soft chuckle the only noise. "You are way too perceptive sometimes, my friend. Yes, something was out there. Sean took care of it our way. You know we had to play it like this, Nick. If we had waited, it would have blown up into our faces."

"What about Maurice?"

He could almost imagine her surprised expression. "Perceptive," Mireille repeated. "But he's alive, too. They tried to tear us apart, take care of those thorns, even though Maurice is more of a nuisance to them. He fought well and his Protectorate is safe, as is his family. He might not behave like it most of the time, but he's made of sterner stuff. And I wouldn't want to get between Nadine and the kids. She's fierce."

Nick felt himself relax a little more. While he didn't like Maurice personally, he also wouldn't want to see him injured or worse. He was married, he had children, and despite everything personal between them, he was a living and breathing human being.

"Anything I should expect to come from this? Anyone I should expect to come for me again?"

"Again?"

"Had a visitor that tried to earn himself some brownie points."

"Who?" she asked sharply.

Nick rubbed his aching forehead. "Not sure. I haven't had time to look him up yet. It's why I haven't called back sooner, too."

Mireille could read between the lines and her worry was audible now. "Are you okay?"

"No worse than after other encounters."

She huffed. "Describe him to me."

And Nick did. Her sharp curse told him that she knew the creature he even before he had had time to go through his ancestors' books.

"Nuckelavee!" she spat.

"Uh, what?"

Nick wasn't sure if it was a colorful curse or a name.

"It was a nuckelavee, Nick. Scottish lore. Dangerous, deadly, employed by the Families to take care of more complicated problems."

"Like Grimms?"

"Not solely. For them to send a nuckelavee and hope for success, luring Sean away had been their only hope. Knowing what they did, I realize that our own justice was little compared to their gross encroachment into a regnant's Protectorate to kill his mate. Sean has already drawn his share of blood, but Nick, the moment he knows what happened, and he will soon, you might need to use all you have on him to keep him from doing even worse."

Nick blinked. "What did you do precisely, Mireille?"

She laughed darkly. "Took care of a few members of the Royal Family. Enough to send more than a simple warning. Enough for them to think about a non-aggression treaty we offered in form of the heads of those we took."

Nick swallowed, aware what she said and what it meant. He also knew that using the psychic link to Renard might not be enough to keep his mate from taking even more lives.

"Any idea when I can expect him home?"

"No. Sorry. Nick, be well. We did what we had to do and I apologize dearly if it put you in a bad position. It had to be done this way or the whole plan would have gone up in flames. You fought and won your own battles. As your mate's sister I'm proud to be your ally."

It sounded incredibly formal, more than she had ever been with him, and Nick almost straightened a little more. Only his abused ribs had him stop.

"And I am very glad you are my friend," he only replied.

She laughed softly, sounding more and more like her usual self.

"Call when you have everything sorted out on your end," she only replied. "It might take a while, but you'll be fine. Both of you."

They ended on that note and Nick stayed outside a little longer, just watching the trees that grew in wild abandon behind Frank's house. The jagerbar owned an incredibly large piece of land and it had been in his family for generations, Frank had told him in the past. He felt the cooler wind, listened to the creak and whisper of the trees, and simply enjoyed being out here, alone, only with his thoughts and emotions.

tbc...