A/N: And again, thanks you guys for all the favs and follows. You guys rock! And someone else is still rockin' as well: So many thanks again to Merlyn Pyndragon. Without her, I am pretty sure, this fanfic wouldn't be possible!
He felt stiff and sour after he awoke, finding himself curled up on a marble bench. Birds were singing, a light breeze rustling the leaves, making them whisper. And someone very human was rummaging in something.
Nick sat up with a deep sigh, rubbing his eyes and blinking into the blue sky, which was decorated with puffy white clouds.
"Morning," he mumbled, looking around and trying to put the previous events together cohesively:
The opera, the fight, their flight through the old coal cellar, the subway and the Hundjaeger too late to catch them.
He remembered them getting off the train somewhere in the dark, them running down a street and straight after a black carriage, through a metal door before it could close on them before leaving an alley in search of a hideout and a place for the night.
Well, they had found something, Nick had to confess, looking around.
The place where he had awoken was sort of a little round sitting area with three benches like the one he had slept on. The place was paved with white stones, in the middle a flare which reminded him a bit of the eternal flare at the grave of John F. Kennedy.
Adalind was sitting on the bench opposite to his, rummaging in her bag. Now she looked over her shoulder and nodded. "You dreamed."
Nick snuffled and shrugged. "Happens to the best of us," he answered.
Still he wasn't too thrilled about his companion. Adalind was dangerous, that was the first rule he'd learned dealing with her. With or without her Hexenbiest, she was dangerous! No wonder Eric wanted to get rid of her. Why the Royal started dating her at all was more of a question.
Nick frowned when something Christian had told him came back to his mind: his companion was pregnant. Adalind was carrying a child.
Eric's? But why would he want to get her killed then? Wouldn't he be more interested in the baby first?
Adalind put her bag aside and looked at him very seriously. "I don't mean normal dreams. You had nightmares," she said.
The muscles in Nick's cheeks began to work and he looked aside, surveying their surroundings. Trees and bushes, all well trimmed. Only a small path was left open to come and leave this place.
"How did you end up as Eric's bodyguard?" Adalind asked.
Not that this was anything for her interest!
Nick stood up, stretching. "Where are we?" he asked.
"Zentralfriedhof," came the answer. "Central cemetery." Adalind muffled something. "I get it, you don't like me. But you will forgive me if I am interested in the one who's supposed to protect me on my way home. Because you have changed a lot since we met the last time."
"We should move. Eric will be searching for us," Nick decided. Checking his pockets he found everything still in place. But he never expected Adalind to be a pickpocket. And he didn't know what she had in her bag.
"So we are going to ignore each other now?" Adalind ask in a cold voice.
Nick bit his lips. Again the muscles in his cheeks tightened. Then he nodded and turned around. Lifting his arms he smiled, full of irony. "How do you think I came here? Just booked a flight to Austria to have a nice holiday at Prince Eric's very private resort up in the attic of his castle? No! He brought me here after one of his henchmen abducted me!"
Adalind startled, her face ashen. "What?"
Nick nodded. "And somehow I have the idea that he wouldn't have been so interested in breaking my will and make me work for him if you hadn't told him about me. But that's only an impression of mine."
Adalind's mouth opened and closed for a few seconds while she stared at him. "Yes, I told him about you and Sean and everything," she finally answered, coming to her feet herself, moving the bag in front of her like a shield. "But that was months ago! Long before I came back to Portland last fall!"
"Well, obviously Eric needed a little time to prepare everything so he could put me in a coffin and bring me here like luggage!"
Nick felt a deep, dark hatred coming from deep inside himself. Much more deep and much more hatred than he'd ever expected to be able to feel for Adalind.
Yes, she'd done a lot of harm to him, trying to kill Aunt Marie, possibly hiring the fake priest who finally finished what the Reaper had begun; putting Hank and Wu under a spell which could have cost both men their lives; trying to blackmail Nick; threatening him with Hank's life. Then putting Juliette under a spell, first letting her slip into a coma, then making her forget him and finally letting her fall for his boss, who turned out to be the Royal in Portland and also Adalind's ex-boyfriend.
"He did what?" Adalind's eyes widened. Frowning, she seemed to start to think about something.
"I'll tell you what we will do," Nick said, stepping away from her to the small path leading through the trees and bushes, into the cemetery proper. "I will help you getting out of Vienna. And then we will leave each other alone. I don't trust you and I don't want to be anywhere near you!"
Something closed in his throat. He couldn't breathe.
"You are going to abandon me? Fine!" Suddenly Adalind seemed to be the old bitch again. "Go! Now! After last night I was ready to give you another chance. I ignored the fact that I am standing in front of my mother's killer here. I will find a way myself! Go back to the car and drive to the airport. I have my tickets, I will make it home!"
Nick fought for air, once more his heart sped up while he gasped. Suddenly the world seemed to tilt, slid and buckle. His knees were wobbly again.
When he collapsed, Adalind seemed to realize that something was wrong and came to him. Getting down to her knees, she touched his sweaty skin, and Nick was able to breathe again. He knelt on the path, choking and gasping, trying to understand what had just happened to him.
"You are right, we should leave," Adalind said, suddenly sounding friendly.
Nick looked up to her, frowning. She touched him, gentle, on his back. He barely could stand this. He didn't want her to touch him, and that was weird.
"I didn't kill your mother," Nick finally croaked, still a little throaty. He shrugged her hand from his back and got back to his feet again, still a little weak but better now.
Adalind looked up to him. "Then who else?" she asked. "You are the detective leading my mother's case. You took me into custody last year."
"I took you into custody to keep everyone safe!" interrupted Nick, again feeling the anger growing inside him
Another thing that was weird. Yes, he hated Adalind for what she did. But so far he also felt at least a little responsible. If he hadn't killed Adalind's Hexenbiest, who knew? Maybe he really should have ended the job. But he couldn't have. After the spirit which possessed her back then was gone, he had no reason to kill her as a human. Maybe now, but not then.
"Keep them safe? From whom?" she asked, head tilted.
"From you!" Nick spat out. Then he jumped, turning around. He stared into the wall of well-trimmed evergreens, listening to the voices growing louder quickly.
He took a step back, closer to Adalind, and tried to understand what those voices were saying. But it was hopeless; he still wasn't able to understand more than a handful of words in German.
"What's wrong?" Adalind asked, watching him closely. "Are you going to collapse again?"
Nick shook his head. "Someone's coming," he answered softly.
Adalind blinked and tried to listen herself. "Who?"
"I don't know. But I still think we should leave. So far our path has been very predictable. We need to change that."
"Eric has Hundjaeger and Koeningsschlangen for such services, Nick. They can smell us even if we swam through the Bodensee!"
"Well, the car isn't an option anymore." Nick turned around to her. "Is there more than one entrance to this cemetery?" he asked.
Adalind nodded. "Yes, of course."
"Then we should take a side entrance out." Nick took her by the arm and went quickly down the path. And inside him anger was still boiling. He hated Adalind more than he had hated Franz ...
After Christian had told him everything, Sean cancelled the meeting at the city hall. Instead he spent the whole night together with his old classmate searching the book Christian had brought with him, staring at the photos he had taken in the kitchen, trying to put the pieces together about what Eric had done to Nick. That it had been done, either by himself or by this inferiors, was clear. But what?
Sean never got into all the potions and lotions stuff, not to mention the other spells a Hexen- or Zauberbiest was usually supposed to know. When he was young his mother had taught him and Christian a little. But after they had to leave Genieve, everything went south. Once Sean's life had settled again, he was too old to learn properly, and was separated from his mother. She had decided it would be safer for both of them to split up. Sean could only agree. He didn't even know where to find his mother nowadays. He had completely lost track of her, so he couldn't tell anyone under force or by accident where to look. Here and there a call, a virtual card on his birthdays, sent by proxy-servers to hide the true location. But that was it.
So Sean and Christian spent most of the night debating on what to do now.
Nick was gone, together with Adalind. And Sean wasn't sure if both would make it. It would definitely be a challenge, especially for Nick.
Adalind, that was another story. Not only did Sean develop a spontaneous headache listening to Christian reveal the whole story about her being the soon-to-be mother, but now he also felt a sharp pain in his stomach, remembering himself having desperate sex with Adalind after he released her from the holding cells in the middle of the night.
Eric wanted to get rid of Adalind and the baby. Usually—especially because there weren't so many fertile Royals around anymore—Eric would have to keep the baby, even if he wanted to get rid of the mother. That he wanted both dead in this case told Sean a lot about the father possibility of this child.
Eric would never kill his own heir, no matter what he might have thought about the child. But he knew how precious such a child was nowadays. The only other option in this scenario, the only explanation for Eric's order, was that he, Sean, was the father and that Eric knew this, knew about the night in the woods.
More evidence of a spy in his own precinct. And more evidence about Adalind's true nature.
To know that Nick was now with her increased Sean's headache, especially with being unsure of what Eric had done to the Grimm.
At the end of the night they had reduced the possible potions down to two, and none of them sounded too good for Sean's taste. He might not be a master of potions but he was able to put the ingredients together, and had an impression of what they might do to a victim. Both potions were meant to harm and control Grimm. Hexenbiests and Grimm had a long tradition of trying to get hold of each other, and there were also different possibilities for both to kill the other one.
Narrowing it down to two was a huge step, but still not enough. So Sean came to the decision of getting to the Spice Shop in hopes that Rosalee would be back by now, or that Monroe would know where to find her or be able to call her.
Sean felt sick just by thinking about what might be going on in Austria right now. So far the other families might not know about a Grimm on the run, not knowing about who this Grimm was. Nick had made an impression on all Royal families since his Grimm awoke. His open provocation of the Reapers and the fact that he had killed every sent assassin so far showed what kind of Grimm he was. Every Royal family would love to get their hands on him, to control him this way or another. And Adalind's baby was the same tempting trophy. Not many Royals were out there these days. Most of them were fighting each other, eager to gain more power. A Royal baby, no matter who it came from, was a powerful tool for the future, and would strengthen the family.
Sean felt really sick and found himself questioning if this was all worth it. For such a long time he had lived a quiet life, now and then doing a little job for the family, getting recognition from the local politicians, maybe dreaming about one day being in the position to teach his brother a lesson. His connection with the resistance never was as close as it was now. He had his spies in the families, knowing the others were doing the same with him. Not that big of a problem.
His youth was another story. After he had finally made it to the US, his mother using every connection she had to get him citizenship, he had sort of a normal life. His one attempt to get back to Europe had ended in a disaster, so he ended up, instead of becoming a physician, studying law at the university, and then joining the police force, not really interested in becoming a lawyer. Well, he had to admit, it might also have been because of his old love, long before Adalind was old enough to become his girlfriend.
Christian drove, using the route planner as he didn't know Portland at all.
Another problem was just emerging with his old classmate now here. First Vitkor, and the moment Viktor found out about Christian, Sean had also to fear for his old friend. Viktor and Christian knew each other, and Viktor was well aware of the treasure which was Christian's memory, knowing a lot of Eric's secrets.
Sean didn't want to know them, even though he knew Christian would tell him. He wanted a fair fight in the end, not to bring down his half-brother using dirty little secrets. But Eric would probably fear Christian would open his mouth and send another group of assassins to kill him. And that was another possibility Sean wouldn't be able to accept.
They drove down to the Pearl and got lucky with a parking space right in front of the Spice Shop. The little sign in the door told Sean the shop was open.
Christian looked at the storefront with a raised eyebrow. "This it is?" he asked, the doubt in his voice as audible as it was plain on his face.
Sean nodded. "Don't judge from the outside. The Fuchsbau in charge is one hell of a apothecary!" He opened the door, bringing Pierre's potion book.
Christian pulled a face but got out of the car and followed Sean to the shop, still scanning the facade with some disbelief.
The familiar smell of tea and herbs welcomed them when they entered the shop. Luckily they were the only costumers, so Sean waited until Christian was inside before he turned the "Open" sign to the"Closed" side and moved the latch.
"I'll be there in a minute!" Monroe's voice came from the back room.
Christian looked around, frowning. Surprised, he finally noticed the huge clock behind the counter. "Wow! That's a real old one," he said, impressed.
Sean never really noticed said clock and looked at it, a little confused before he remembered that Monroe was a clockworker.
Christian began to read the little labels on the different bottles and boxes. His expression turned from disbelief to interest.
Finally the door to the back room opened and Monroe stepped into the shop. Obviously he had been working on a clock back there; the magnifier was still attached to his glasses. Now he looked surprised after noticing Sean.
"Wow! What are you doing here?" A small look to the door didn't seem to lift his mood. "This bad, huh?"
"Sorry if we interrupted you," Sean said, following Monroe, who was heading to the counter. "But we need help. By the way, this is Christian. Christian, meet Monroe, friend of the Grimm."
Monroe glanced at Christian and nodded before he stepped behind the counter. Leaning on it, he frowned. "Christian? As in the spy who found Nick?"
Christian nodded and came closer. "The same. I'm glad to meet you." He smiled and woged into his half-Wesen on purpose.
Monroe's eyebrows lifted another inch. "Wow!" he said, woging himself, which made Christian step back and send a confused glance at Sean.
"I should have warned you. He's Blutbad. His fiancée is the Fuchsbau," Sean said. Then he stepped in front of the counter and met Monroe's eyes. "We need to talk to Rosalee. Now! It's urgent."
Monroe's eyebrows finally got back where they belonged. Instead he started to frown. "I haven't heard from her or Juliette for two days. But they are in the woods. Doesn't mean anything had happened to them," he said.
"Juliette? As in the fiancée of the Grimm?" Christian asked. "Why she would go into the woods in her condition?"
Monroe exchanged a look with Sean. "News travel fast, huh?"
Sean shook his head. "We need her. Or... How well you are in potions?"
Monroe looked again at Christian. "How come you are here? I thought you were about to help Nick flee?" He blinked. "Is Nick with you?"
Christian shook his head. "He isn't."
Monroe's expression changed when he gave Sean a stare. "So your plan didn't work? Nick is still imprisoned?"
"He's free," Christian explained. "The plan worked ... sort of. It will probably take him longer to come back because he had to abandon the car I had given him. But he's out of the castle and out there."
"But still in Europe?" Monroe gave Sean another stare.
Christian nodded. "Yes, still in Europe. I had to leave too, but I couldn't bring him with me."
"Or you didn't want to."
"This is leading us nowhere," Sean interrupted, a tad impatient. "It doesn't matter if Christian is here or not. We should be lucky he made it. Otherwise we never would have learned about what Eric really did to Nick."
"Wait a minute, didn't you tell us Nick was tortured? What else could your dear brother have done to him?"
"Eric hired a Zauberbiest to mix a potion," Christian answered. "Nick told me that he was forced into eating something. First in a mush which he avoided eating. Later Eric gave him meat he couldn't recognize. After he ate it he was sick, very sick."
Monroe straightened and looked at Christian, alarmed.
"Nick told me that Eric was upset that he went through a purification process here in Portland," Christian continued. "Two days ago, after Nick had left the castle with Eric, I met with the hired Zauberbiest. He wasn't too cooperative and in the end I killed him. That's why I'm here now." He shrugged.
Monroe exchanged another look with Sean. "Do you guys have an idea what meat Nick got? What effect could a potion possibly have on him? I mean, as far as I know this Eric wants him alive. He wouldn't try to poison him to kill him, right?"
Sean pulled the potion book out of the pocket of his trench coat and put it on the counter. "We nailed it down to two possibilities after what Christian found when he ran into this Zauberbiest," he said and opened the book to the first marked recipe. "We need Rosalee to mix an antidote as soon as possible. Maybe we can get it somehow to Europe and in Nick's hands, or we will await him here and give it to him the moment he arrives at the airport."
Monroe turned the book and leaned forward to read. He swallowed after he read the first ingredient. "That's impossible! No one would do that!"
Sean gave Christian a nod and the little man came to the counter, pulling out his cellphone and showing a blurry picture to Monroe.
The Blutbad went ashen. "Oh my God!" he whispered gutturally.
Sean startled. "Do you recognize her?" he asked.
Monroe nodded and looked up. "That is Nick's mom, Kelly Burkhardt. What the hell did your brother do to her?"
"He had her butchered to feed her flesh to Nick," Christian answered.
Silence fell over the three men ...
Hank was lying on the bed again, staring at the ceiling and trying to ignore the man two cells ahead, who was snoring the alcohol off. A while ago Hank's companion threw up. Sure, he was quick and used the toilet. But the ventilation didn't work in here, or not properly, and the entire section of the building was stinking now.
For how long he had he been here now? He couldn't really remember. The days had gone by in stupidity and boredom. Every morning he got the chance to clean himself at the mens' restroom, and sometimes he was taken in for questioning. But he had lost track at one time, couldn't really count on how long he had been here for sure.
Three weeks? Four weeks? Longer?
The door at the other end of the cell block opened and footsteps came up to his cell.
Hank risked a look and sighed, deeply annoyed after he saw once more the snarky sergeant coming to his cell.
"Who was it this time?" he asked, deeply groaning while he sat up.
The sergeant blinked. "No one," he answered and pulled a key ring out of his pocket.
Hank froze for a second, watching the uniformed cop try several different keys in the lock to his cell.
"Another interrogation?" Hank asked, his heart pounding rapidly.
"Nope." The sergeant looked up, grinning. "We have a plan."
The next key didn't unlock the door either.
Hank watched the other cop suspiciously. "And why do I have the feeling I might not like what you came up with? Who planned at all? The captain?"
If Renard had something to do with what was going on right now, Hank would at least feel a little relieved. But the simple fact that this cop on the other side of the bars didn't know which key opened the door made his stomach ache.
"Ahm, not directly."
The next key, another blank.
Hank watched the ring and came to the conclusion that he was running out of keys – or time. He wasn't sure which suited him better. Slowly he stood up, still hesitant on what to do next.
"Whose plan?" he repeated.
The sergeant tried another key and sent Hank the huge, happy grin of the winner of a difficult contest. "Wu came up with it," he answered, turning the key. The door swung open. "We'll release you, sort of. And you and your girlfriend will go to a safe place until we need you to testify what happened."
"I don't know what happened at all," Hank answered and stepped back. "And I'm pretty sure this isn't Wu's smartest idea. I am most likely innocent, yes, but I cannot verify that as long as I haven't seen the murder weapon!"
"Will a photo do it?" The sergeant blinked and pulled a file from under his jacket. "This is everything we have about the crime scene at the motel."
"You are compromising evidence the moment you hand it over to me," Hank warned, but he also felt the urgent need to finally take a look.
Damn! He had to know! If the gun wasn't his, he had nothing to worry about. The traces of gunpowder on his hands could have a reason other than the killing of Remy!
The uniformed cop looked at him, still offering him the file.
"Damn, don't be so bullheaded, man!" he finally cried. "You are not responsible. And even if you were, which I doubt, there will be a reason for the shooting. Now, take the file and follow me."
Hank hesitated for another second, but the file was too tempting. As was finally being able to breathe fresh air and not be limited to a cell of the size of a telephone box.
He grabbed the file and his jacket and followed the sergeant out of the cell block.
"Not Wu's smartest idea," he repeated. "Seriously, you guys have watched too much James Bond."
The sergeant, his badge calling him "Gonzales," looked over his shoulder. "You should tell Wu. I had nothing to do with it. I don't get why it was now so urgent to pull you out." He stopped for a second and took another look over his shoulder. "Oh, and before I forget, you are supposed to knock me out. We have to explain how you got out, you know."
That was the smallest of all problems, Hank was sure as he followed Gonzales down a hallway to stairs, obviously the back door to the precinct. Hank noticed cameras on the ceiling while they went down, but the blinking red lights were off.
"You manipulated the surveillance?" he asked.
Gonzales grinned again. "Update. That's why I came so late. I had to wait until the tech guy started uploading the upgrade."
Hopefully they would have enough time before the cameras would restart.
A metal door was awaiting them at the end of the stairs. Gonzales opened it, using all of his weight. The smell of gasoline, oil and gummi was like perfume to Hank.
Gonzales pulled out his gun and handed it to Hank. "Just in case," he said. "Your girlfriend should be here any minute."
The sound of an engine coming up to them seemed to verify this.
Hank risked a look and saw a dark SUV coming down the lot and stopping right in front of the door.
"Good luck," Gonzales said. "And, please, don't hit too hard."
"Should it look believable?" Hank asked.
Gonzales nodded and blinked again.
Man, this guy looked a bit like Nick, came the realization to Hank.
"Then I'm sorry." The blow came all of the sudden for Gonzales, and made him crash into the wall, slowly sliding down with dazed eyes and a reddened cheek.
"Sorry, man." Hank smiled before he left to jump into the SUV ...
The container yard on the Old Lumber Road was again alive. Not as crowded as the last time the zombies rose from here against Portland to catch a Grimm. But there might be twenty or a little more people standing or walking up to the center of the yard, hoping for a glimpse of her.
And so was he. He parked his truck on the old parking lot and came over, as though he was being pulled by invisible threads. He knew where to go, whom he would find there. The others standing around or walking up with him were barely recognized by him.
He came because he was called here. He came to fulfill everything he would be asked for. He came here for her.
And in the middle of the yard there were two containers, lined up side by side. A bonfire was burning in front of them, and behind this bonfire he finally found the one who was calling him.
And he went to her, only to smell her, to get another bit of her endless love in which he could drown knowing she would take care of him.
She was sitting on an armchair, listening to another person. And he felt a bit of anger that he was supposed to wait now. But she moved her head when he came closer, and a smile lighted up her face. The face of the woman who visited the Spice Shop yesterday.
"Ah, here you are," she greeted him. With one hand she gave him permission to join her. And he did, heart beating fast, as happy as he had been on the day his youngest child was born.
Still she smiled, but her eyes were cold as ice. Her finger touched his arm and for a second she seemed to be far away before she was back in the here an now again.
"Now, Bud Wurstner, tell me everything you know about the friends of the Grimm. Especially his fiancée Juliette Silverton," Eloise Frieda, stepdaughter and heir of Baron Samedi, asked the Eisbiber ...