Chapter 14

By the following night, Renard had nothing to give Lily. He'd missed her deadline, but it wasn't for a lack of trying. He had his trusted employees searching for weaknesses in Maxwell's schedule and social life. Finding the man wasn't the difficult part, getting to him was, and Renard wasn't going to give Lily something as trivial as Maxwell's location. He knew she was unstable enough to likely hunt for the one who ordered the hit that took her parents from her. And to make it worse, she wouldn't be smart about it, either. She'd probably run in blind and be killed before anything worthwhile happened.

Renard's shoulders were heavy and dropped as a result. The moment he was in his home they lost their rigid shape and he let himself relax about as much as possible. Between the Manticore running around murdering former soldiers for revenge and Adalind being pregnant with a mystery child, Renard had more on his plate than he would have liked. Lily and her dead-line was simply a cherry on top of the towering pile of shit.

He wanted a drink, a hot shower, and to lie in his own bed. He wouldn't get the chance, however. At least not as soon as he would have liked.

Renard stood at his bar pouring himself a drink with his back to the room. Perhaps he should have been more aware of his surroundings.

"Times up," she chimed from behind. Renard spun on his heel and had his service weapon aimed within an instant. Lily seemed less than worried from her spot on his couch. He growled, but didn't immediately relent his weapon. "You were meant to have him by now."

"Did you really break into the police captain's home?" he asked with mild irritation.

She shrugged a single shoulder and continued to pick at her nails casually. Lily slowly met his gaze and eyed him sternly through her lashes.

"Do you have Maxwell or not?" she asked coldly.

"Does it look as though I have an English Lord stashed somewhere in my living room?" he asked sarcastically.

"I wouldn't put anything past you, Sean." She replied simply. "Now then, tell me what you have, if anything at all."

Renard sighed and finally lowered his weapon. He set it on his bar and finished with his drink before facing her once again.

"Did you think I'd have him here, in Portland, within three days?" he asked. She simply cocked a brow. He knew that silently meant yes, she did expect that. "I have people looking into him as we speak."

"And?"

"And you must be-"

"Don't," she interrupted with a hiss and a stern finger pointed at him. "Don't you dare tell me to be patient." He didn't immediately speak. Somehow he knew she wasn't done, and he was right. "I've waited more than half my life to finally find out who's responsible for taking them away, so you don't get to tell me to be patient."

"You've waited eighteen years." He said calmly. "Is it so difficult to wait another few days?"

The question was meant to be rhetorical, but Lily had something she felt he needed to hear. Perhaps it was more that she needed to get it off her chest. Either way, she spoke without truly knowing the reason behind it. The words simply came.

"Do you know what happened, that night?" she asked without expecting an answer. Her voice was low and dangerously even. Renard was smart enough to realize he'd better remain silent or risk a physical altercation… again. Her gaze slowly traveled to meet his briefly.

"I was there, when they died. I listened," She said as her eyes slowly lost focus and drifted towards the distance as she remembered. Renard narrowed his eyes skeptically. He didn't know what to think at the moment and stayed quiet because of it.

"I listened as men sent by the Council butchered my father. I listened as my mother slaughtered them only to have the Verrat slay her. The only reason I survived was my mother had the forethought to stash me away beneath the floors in a crawl-space." When she met his eye again hers were tinting pink with the promise of angry tears. "When the fighting stopped, and I finally emerged, the walls were painted with the blood of not only the assailants, but my parents as well." She blinked and the tears fell silently down her cheeks. "They skinned her." She breathed. "While she was alive, did you know that?" Renard felt himself shake his head despite his body having remained eerily immobile. Lily's jaw clenched and she nodded shortly. "Maahes hides are worth a fortune and the Family wanted proof, so the one who survived skinned her and I had to listen." Her words were barely audible. "So you don't get to stand there and tell me to be patient while the man who's responsible for that Hell is so close. Do you hear me?"

The room was deathly silent while Renard tried to process Lily's story. He couldn't help but picture it as she told him what happened. He imagined a faceless man in place of her father (they had never met), but he knew her mother and could see her clearly in his mind. The images and the sounds he conjured were horrifying and Renard was wise enough to know it was nothing in comparison. The thought that a child had to witness something so awful made even his cold heart sputter sadly.

"They're looking for a break in his security." Renard answered in a somber tone. "You need to trust me, Lily."

"I don't trust anyone." She said honestly. He understood and didn't take personal offense.

"Soon." He told her as he slipped his hands into his pockets. "I can only promise you soon."

Lily eyed him emotionlessly for a moment before pushing herself up. She started towards him at a slow pace, her eyes never leaving his.

"You had better hope so." She told him softly as she walked by without a break in step. "For your sake."

Renard continued to watch her as she opened his door and left him standing in his living room both threatened and unnerved.

Lily sat on her bed with a photo clutched in her hands. It was of a time when she was happy, when she had everything she could ever need, and when she had a family. Her parents surrounded her and all of them were smiling. The picture was so old and her only copy. It was wrinkled, a corner was torn free and some of the color had been rubbed off. It was the wear and tear of being stashed in a pocket for years and years which was why she kept it in a wooden box now.

When she was young, Lily knew her life wasn't normal, but she didn't know by how much. She knew people didn't run for their lives like she did. She knew it wasn't normal to be hunted. She was simply used to it. From the time she was born, her and her parents didn't remain in one place for longer than a year. They couldn't risk it and because of that Lily never attended school or made friends. Any meaningful connection to the outside world was snuffed out it favor of a life.

Documents were easily forged for the family. According to records, Lily attended school in Cardiff, Wales. Americans never noticed her accent was English so it was close enough. Until they met with Elizabeth in the woods, Lily had been raised in the countryside and forests of England, bouncing from one place to another until she was old enough to withstand long distance travel and understand why it was happening.

Her parents never kept anything from her. They taught her at a young age about the Wesen world and why they were constantly moving. They told her what Grimms were and why Wesen were frightened of them and her mother freely woged to show her what a Wesen could look like. She never knew it was strange or that others didn't know about their kind until shortly before her parents' deaths. It wasn't until she was on her own that Lily understood just how unorthodox her life had been.

Still, she was happy as a child. She came from a family that loved her, that taught her what someone was didn't matter, and that she was special. Unfortunately with the good, came the bad. They also taught her not to trust anyone, that friends were a luxury people being hunted couldn't afford, and that having roots could kill you.

The tears she'd spilled since sitting down had dried, but her eyes were still pink. Her body trembled with the desire to act and the picture shook in her grip as a result. She needed Renard to come through. It wasn't a desire; it was a need, something that had to be fulfilled without question or hesitation. It was something that had to be done or she felt like she forfeited her own life. That's how she viewed her revenge. If she didn't come through, she would wither away and disappear under the weight of her own despair and the fear she'd let her parents down.

The headaches returned. Lily stood, tucked the picture away again and retrieved the tonic Rosalee had made her. To her surprise half of it was gone. In a few shorts days –perhaps not even a week- the elixir that should have lasted her a month or better was half gone. She wondered briefly how often the headaches came now before brewing herself another cup of tea.

With the tonic's help, Lily felt herself slip into another drug-aided slumber. Perhaps that was why the elixir was nearly gone? Whatever the reason, she soon drifted and slipped into familiar nightmares made all the more real by the discovery of Lord Maxwell.

Renard faired no better that night. Lily left him uncomfortable and nervous. There was something in her eyes that made him fearful she would do something stupid. He didn't know if it would involve him, or if it would be in regards to the Lord, but he knew something would happen if he wasn't careful. And with that, he knew she was a liability. Before, Renard was sure of her calculating nature. She was like him in that regard. It was a side-effect of their upbringing. Being chased and hunted was the best way to learn to be careful and smart. But now… now he wasn't sure.

Given the proof she always wanted –and knowing she could trust Weis' statement- he knew she was slipping. He'd seen it in her eyes when she visited him. He saw her resolve beginning to disappear in favor of unbridled madness, just so she could have her revenge.

He couldn't risk it. Renard had too many things to worry about, too many people watching him and too much relying on his need to stay under people's radar to let her race off and wage war on the English Royals. And something told him she wouldn't have the slightest problem with bragging about how she'd managed to find Lord Maxwell. He couldn't let his name become involved in any way. Dealing with his own family was bad enough. He didn't need possible attacks coming from two sides.

Renard sighed as he stared at the phone in his hand. A foreign number was reflecting back at him and he knew all he had to do was press call. He found it more difficult than he would have assumed to force his thumb to move a single inch, but the reality of his decision was paralyzing. Lily would understand… perhaps. It was, after all, for her own good. If he didn't act now, there was no telling what might happen. It was best to simply come at the problem directly and put an end to it before she did something that destroyed everything he'd built.

With a grimace as though it caused him a brief sting of pain, Renard pressed the button and held the phone to his ear. It rang for a moment before the other end of the line was picked up.

"Yes?" a deep voice answered.

"This is Sean Renard." He said. "I'm calling for Lord Sebastian Maxwell."

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line.

"The Austrian King's son?"

"Yes," he rolled his eyes. "That Sean Renard."

It was a question he'd received on multiple occasions when he introduced himself to someone new. He wasn't surprised the stranger recognized it. By now, most of the royals knew of the king's bastard son and his name. Besides, the number Renard called wasn't one known to the public. It'd make sense they assumed it was him and not another random name with his name.

"In regards to what?"

"Something he'll be very interested in."

There was a pause on the other end of the line before someone else picked up.

"Sean Renard," the voice chuckled. "This is an interesting development. So, you have something to offer?"

"That depends."

"On what?"

"On whether or not the reward is still valid for the Quinns."

"You're about twenty years too late, my friend." He said with an edge. "They've been dealt with."

"Two, perhaps."

There was another pause. Renard heard the man on the other end speaking to someone in the background while trying to cover the receiver of the phone. It barely worked.

"I'm listening."

"The bounty?"

Maxwell sighed obnoxiously and it made Renard want to hit him.

"It's still 2 million Euros, if the information is valid."

"Very."

"Where's the girl?"

"Tell me, have you ever visited Portland?" he asked casually. "We have wonderful scenery."