Chapter 51
I swallowed hard so I could speak. "Wesen?"
"Not to interject on family talk, but did you just say a Waldgeist?" Monroe asked from the couch. "'Cause that's a little out there, man," he chuckled awkwardly. "We're talking something out of cloud cuckoo land, you know? Waldgeists are like our versions of fairy tales. They don't exist."
My grandmother glared at Monroe. "I assure you, Blutbad, they exist." She turned back to me. "Waldgeist translates to a 'woodland spirit.'"
"A spirit? So, I'm a fairy?" Holy hell! I wanted to say, 'I'm a fucking fairy,' but I wasn't going to curse around my new grandmother.
"No, you ain't no fairy," my grandmother laughed condescendingly. "You'd know if you were one of those. The spirit part is metaphorical."
Was she joking? Perhaps Sookie Stackhouse wasn't as fictional after all.
"So you're saying my father…?" I paused my words. "Oh, I need to sit down." This was far too much information. I was immediately light-headed as I took a seat beside Monroe on the couch, much to my grandmother's chagrin. Nick also moved to the seating area, taking over an oversized brown chair beside the couch. My grandmother sat in a rocking chair opposite us.
"So, what is this Waldgeist thing exactly?" Nick asked.
"Waldgeists are protectors of forests and the Wesen that used to reside in 'em back in the day. Even us Grimms don't know much about 'em. They mostly reside in wooded areas, but a rare few have ventured out to live 'mongst humans. As far as they've been profiled, Waldgeists don't woge like most Wesen. They look human like we do, except for their eyes. Always green, a Waldgeist's eyes will glow when they're close to the forest or wooded areas. But it's much like any woge, it's impulse-driven."
I was trying to concentrate, but I was completely numb.
"Your mother, Suzanne, fell in love with one of those Waldgeists," my grandmother continued, rocking faster as she spoke. "Usually a Waldgeist and a Grimm detest one another. Nature keeps it that way 'cause a combination of the two is quite powerful."
I faced Nick. So my Waldgeist side was why he was so annoying? Wow…
My grandmother watched us and nodded. "That you two are even friends is a surprise to me."
"Well, 'friends' is a strong word," I replied, and Nick made a face.
"When Suzanne brought Walter home I knew there was somethin' different. My senses are attuned to Wesen, but with Walter, I didn't know what he was. After questionin' Suzanne dozens of times, she finally told me. The books had little 'bout 'em 'cept for the legends. I made a promise to Suzanne that I wouldn't harm him if he'd give me some kinda insight into his nature."
I stiffened in my seat at her words. Harm him? Is this how she treated all Wesen?
"Walter gave me general information," she continued, "but I could tell he was still shieldin' some thangs from me. I had to use my own methods to learn more, which Suzanne didn't exactly approve of."
I cringed at the thought of her methods. What did this woman do to Wesen? Monroe rubbed my back, and undoubtedly he could smell the fear creep up inside me.
My grandmother went on to tell us about how these fast and agile Wesen brought on the legends of everything from Dryads to wood sprites due to their youthful appearance and love of forests. Waldgeists would protect forest Wesen from harm, especially from those like Grimms. Wesen, in turn, wanted to protect the Waldgeist even if they didn't know what one was. It was innate to do so. There was an attraction Waldgeists had over Wesen. Even some humans got attached easily. Smaller Wesen, like squirrels, rabbits and beavers were very attached to the Waldgeist because of their protection properties. Other Wesen had a tendency to fall under devotion as well, but larger Wesen weren't typically affected.
So Chloe was under a Waldgeist spell, so to speak. I felt bad all of a sudden. Maybe even Monroe was attached for the same reason. I liked this knowledge less and less.
As my grandmother told us more about Waldgeists, I nodded slowly, but my mind was in a deep haze. Maybe I was dreaming. Maybe this was some fabricated joke. Wesen. I was Wesen.
"…and Waldgeists gravitate toward forest areas. Did you feel different when you entered the forest, Renée?" she asked.
"What, I'm sorry?"
"Did you feel different here in the forest, child?"
"I always feel a sense of calm when I'm in the woods. But being out here, I felt a wave of tranquility that washed over me unlike anything I'd ever felt before."
"You're feelin' that bond with nature. 'Specially here since others of your kind reside in these forests."
Others of my kind? Oh, no. Not only was she separating, I was being put on the other side of 'us versus them.' I was now the 'them.' I let out a slow breath, trying to contain my thoughts.
"Do you sing?"
"She hums," Monroe said, "a lot."
My grandmother narrowed her eyes at Monroe's comment. "Waldgeists are very musical and are attracted to music in all forms. It'd only be natural that you excelled in that area. You play an instrument too, don'tcha?"
I nodded. "A few." So, I inherited my music skills from my dad's side of the family. Okay, then.
My grandmother continued. "Walter said a Waldgeist's greatest enemies are Hexenbiests. These Wesen have sought after Waldgeists for their magic for centuries and are very dangerous."
"Waldgeists are magical?" Nick asked while leaning forward in his chair.
My grandmother nodded. "Waldgeists are used in many ancient spells."
"When you say 'are used,' do you mean…?"
"Like what we talked about at dinner that one time, Nick," Monroe chimed in. "Only in this case the parts she's talking about aren't human. But those things are all just legends, like old world myths."
My grandmother ignored Monroe. "Walter said most of their kind were killed by Hexenbiests tryin' to harness their powers of youthfulness and healing. Most didn't know what they were doin', so instead of gettin' what they needed, Hexenbiests killed many in trial and error. There ain't many left because of it."
"Youthfulness? Hexenbiests are already kinda hot, so why would they need that?" asked Monroe. I gave him a sideways glance. "I mean, not that I personally think they're hot, I just mean, uhh…"
"I don't ever want to run across another one," said Nick with a scowl.
"They're just evil all around, man," said Monroe with a sigh. "Flying off the handle over everything, and all that mumbo jumbo they're always doing." He paused as my grandmother was glaring again. "And I'll just shut up now."
"The Grimm journals mentioned other Waldgeist abilities, but I couldn't get definite answers from Walter 'bout 'em. Even after I tried." Her face darkened as she said that last part. I grabbed Monroe's hand, trying to hold back my anxiety.
"Such as?" Nick asked.
"Well these could be the legends that the Blutbad referred to. The little information I did find 'bout these Wesen were entries from prior to the fourteenth century. Legends say Waldgeists can grant wishes to those pure of heart and they're good at determinin' who's pure and who ain't. Hexenbiests have tried to harness this power as well."
I was big on genuine people. That was for sure. I could usually weed out fake smiles from real ones. I just thought it was body language. Who knew it was Wesen ability?
"Other legends state they have and grant good luck to those 'round 'em."
I laughed awkwardly. "Good luck? Well I think I missed that gene." God knows how much trouble I'd gotten into lately.
"You're still alive, so you must be doin' somethin' right," my grandmother said. That was definitely not comforting.
"If they're so lucky, then why are they almost extinct?" Nick asked.
"Magic's stronger than luck," my grandmother replied. "But, Renée, like I said earlier, you're very rare to be part Grimm and part Waldgeist. You're gonna be wanted for so many reasons. Not just by Hexenbiests."
Wonderful. Just what I needed, more Wesen coming after me.
"Waldgeists exist," Monroe shook his head. "And I'm dating one."
"Half of one," I corrected. Monroe was beginning to stare at me. He sniffed the air again and I just gave him a look.
"Sorry, it's just that I can't pick up any difference. I oughta be able to tell something."
"She's half so you probably won't be able to tell a difference, Blutbad." My grandmother said, looking annoyed.
"Hey, I have a name, you know."
My grandmother ignored Monroe's remark and continued "Waldgeists have adapted 'emselves to come off as human for protection, so even your nose won't be able to pick up the difference."
I was a Grimm and Wesen. My mind was firing off a million different questions and thoughts all at once. This was not the family history I was expecting to get today.
"So how many are still alive?" I asked. "And how do you know about the others?"
"I don't know. The elder won't tell me, but he's mentioned that it's not very many. That's why I'm still here. Lord knows I'd have packed up and left long time ago if it hadn't been for 'em. I stay to protect 'em," she said with a sour face. "There haven't been too many Hexenbiests out in these parts the past few decades, but they know better than to come here. They know what a Grimm is capable of doin' to 'em," she said with a sneer. "The Waldgeists blame Suzanne for Walter's death. This is my way of atonin' for that, and it's helped to keep their kind peaceful toward us Grimms. They already hate us, so at least this way I can keep the Waldgeists from actin' as the Reapers do."
"So, they're here near Crescent City?" I asked.
"Yes. They stay in the forests and keep to 'emselves."
"Are they directly related to my dad?"
"They're his kin, yeah. But I know what you're thinkin' and I'm unsure your presence would be a positive one, Renée." My grandmother said quickly. "A thang like a Grimm-Waldgeist is what they try to prevent."
A thing? I refrained from saying anything.
"Could you talk to them and see though?" I asked.
What might a Waldgeist Wesen look like? I had nothing physically but the green eyes, and I'd never noticed a glow to them, so it wasn't something obvious. Maybe there were other things I could do, but then again if there were, I'd had enough opportunities to woge and see them. To be part Wesen, I felt as lame as one could be.
My grandmother nodded at my request. "I'll talk to the elder and see what he says. But understand even if they grant this kind of request, you'd have to remain diffident in their presence. These Wesen ain't like any that you've ever encountered. They're ancient and powerful, and they don't take kindly to strangers."
"I understand."
"Good. For now lemme show you somethin'." She turned quickly to Monroe. "The Blutbad stays here," she said firmly. Monroe looked like he wanted to retort but he held his tongue. Thank goodness he was back on his routine. Otherwise he probably would've provoked my grandmother and may have wound up getting shot at. I gave him an apologetic look. I would have to make this up to him.
My grandmother motioned Nick forward. "You can come with her since you're of the bloodline." Nick stood up quickly. He looked almost as on edge as Monroe did, but he followed us both to the back room. Nick looked at me with his blue-green eyes wide. Mine were pretty wide, too. What was she leading us to?
The three of us walked into a room with high bookshelves surrounding the walls. I would only guess they were made of California redwood, since they looked handmade.
"Please turn 'round a moment." she requested and we both looked at one another before doing as she asked.
"Maybe there's a secret passage," Nick muttered to me.
"Maybe there's a silver trailer behind the bookshelf," I joked.
"Please turn back 'round," my grandmother said and we were both taken aback with what we saw. The shelf had indeed moved to reveal a red door.
"Well done, Dick Tracy," I nudged Nick's arm as we walked forward.
Cautiously we followed my grandmother through the red door into the darkness. The light from outside the door gave the whole place an eerie feel and I held my breath. My grandmother reached for a lamp, illuminating the area with its equally eerie pale glow.
At first glance this room was something right out of another Dracula movie and I immediately thought of Van Helsing sitting at the old Victorian style desk located in the center of the room. There may have been electricity, but it deserved a candelabra instead. The vast amount of oddities in the large space made the trailer look sparse by comparison.
The far right corner held a few weapons displayed and mounted on the wall. A double crossbow like Nick's and a morning star were two I quickly recognized.
"These are the chronicles of our line, Renée," my grandmother proudly stated with a smile as she pointed to the shelves behind her.
More handmade bookshelves lined the walls and were crammed entirely with volumes of books. I noted a few titles on the spines as I walked by. Hundjäger, Spinnetod, and Wesen names I couldn't even begin to pronounce were just a few of the many titles in here. They were alphabetized, and I smiled in spite of it all. I thought about my dad's library and I wanted to spend time going through everything as my eyes lit up at the thought.
Aside from books there were shelves of bottles with an array of colored liquids, all meticulously labeled and organized. A couple of bottles were labeled, 'Poison,' while one bottle was labeled 'Deadly Poison.' Was there a difference?
My enthusiasm faded as one shelf held a row of what I could only describe as specimens. I cringed at the body parts inside. The most shocking of all was Bauerschwein head in a jar. I thought about Leon Clabar. Oh, this was not what I wanted to know about my family history at all.
"How is that possible?" Nick asked my grandmother as he pointed to the same jar I'd been eyeing. "Wesen go back to human form once they die."
My grandmother sighed. "There are ways to prolong a Wesen woge even after death, boy." Her tone was condescending as if Nick should know this.
I was as clueless as he was. The only Wesen I'd seen post mortem was the losing one in the Lowen Gladiator ring and I hadn't stuck around to see if he'd retracted or not. My grandmother didn't continue with a how-to lesson, thank goodness.
"Renée, this is our line," My grandmother said startling me out of my thoughts. She was pointing to a scroll hanging on a far wall.
I approached the wall, admiring the handwriting. It was done in calligraphy and the tree was drawn out with many branches extending outward, representing the families of generations past. As I examined the document further, I found my name toward the bottom. Below it read 'deceased.' A pit formed in my stomach.
"We'll fix that," my grandmother commented, putting a hand on my shoulder. She pointed at the top of the tree. "Our lineage is rare, for we had two seers: the Grimms and the Andersons."
"Yes. I read from Nick's books about Hans Christian Anderson and Charlotte Grimm."
My grandmother seemed pleased I was aware of this much information. "Unlike the Grimms, the Andersons and other lines lived 'mongst Wesen and thought of 'em as equals," she scoffed as the words left her mouth.
Other lines? So there were more seers than just the Grimms and the Andersons? Oh my…
"The Grimm line gave purpose," she continued. "They were able to use their abilities to govern Wesen as it should be." I didn't like the sound of that and I glanced at Nick, who tilted his head at my grandmother's logic. "If it weren't for the profilin' work of our ancestors the Grimms, the knowledge we have today wouldn't even exist."
"I can relate to the Anderson line," I said, turning toward my grandmother. "Wesen and humans are not all entirely different. A prime example is that man out there sitting on your couch." I pointed back in the direction of her living room. "Monroe has done more for me in the past few months than most humans I've known for years." I said all this calmly, but I'd obviously crossed a line with my grandmother as she glowered in my direction. Nick stepped forward.
"Renée's right. Monroe has helped me with several cases to save human lives. You can't possibly bundle all Wesen into the same group."
"We have this ability to hunt and eliminate the evil that's out there. That thang on my couch comes from a long line of evil."
"But he is reforming himself," Nick persisted. "Doesn't that mean anything?"
"It means he's due for a slip up, that's what," she stated flatly. "And that my own granddaughter is…" she shook her head briskly as she closed her eyes.
"Do you really feel all Wesen should die?" I asked coldly. It was rude and I knew it. But after all I'd heard in the living room, I needed to know.
"They ain't our equals, Renée. But no, I don't feel they all should die. Not anymore. Not since I started protectin' the Waldgeists. The ones like that Blutbad, yeah, absolutely. I'm not gonna lie to you. That kind of evil out there is an abomination. But I'm not a practicin' Endezeichen-Grimm anymore. I haven't been for a long time."
"A what?" Nick asked before I had a chance to.
"Endezeichen," she repeated sharply. "Didn't your Wesen friends teach you about that?"
"No."
She shook her head with a sigh. "Endezeichen is the belief that all Wesen must die, o'course." She looked at Nick then at me. "I've hung up my brands, so to speak, but I've got no problem gettin' 'em back out if need be." She raised an eyebrow like that was supposed to be a threat I would understand.
Nick continued the questioning. "Brands?"
"The original Endezeichen used a brandin' mark." She moved to a bookshelf and then returned, leafing through pages as she went. On the page she pointed to a symbol that resembled a skull at first glance. My grandmother traced the edges showing the form of a 'G.' "The sterbestunde was used back in olden times, but Grimms who still believe in the philosophy don't use it anymore. Too bad, because it gets the point across much easier, in my opinion."
I envisioned Grimms running around branding Wesen like cattle. How horrific!
"There are evil humans, too." I strained the words as I looked at her. "It doesn't mean they all need to die."
"Again you're tryin' to compare 'em as equals. They just ain't equal, Renée."
"Your granddaughter is part Wesen, too," I glared back. "And I see more than just a woge; I see the soul behind that woge."
I tried hard to stop there. She was so prejudiced and cruel, but I held my tongue. I was in her house, and I had come uninvited, bringing something with me she disdained. I couldn't expect this woman, who had lived a long life of hunting, to just turn over a new leaf because I thought it so. Still, I was shocked that my bloodline was this bloodthirsty.
"I realize you've got Wesen blood, and that's partly why I protect the Waldgeists. Your mother loved one, and although I tried everythin' to get her to come to her senses, she fought against me and ran off 'cause of it. Perhaps if she'd stayed here I could've protected her… and you."
"So, why did she and my dad go to Louisville?" I asked. It was a strange place to just run off to.
"My sister lived there," she replied. "Like you, she felt Wesen were equals and your mother thought it was better to be with those who might understand."
"So does your sister still live there?"
"No, she also died mysteriously a few months after your parents died." So maybe that was the family that was referenced in the newspaper article.
"Why didn't she take me in after my parents died?"
"Talia said you didn't survive. That's how I found out about everythin'. It was from her. We didn't talk often, but I knew somethin' was wrong when I got word from her."
It wasn't making sense. Maybe something had happened between my parents and this Aunt Talia to want to give me to their friends the Davenports instead. But, since Talia had died, maybe it had been wise choice in the long run.
"How did you find out about your sister?"
"I did a search 'bout what happened to Suzanne and came across an article 'bout Talia shortly afterward." My grandmother shook her head.
"How did she die?" Nick asked.
"House fire." She stroked her temple. "The papers said it was a cigarette, but Talia didn't smoke. Whoever killed Suzanne must've found, Talia, too."
"My adoptive mom mentioned Suzanne had a sister."
"Yes, Diana." My grandmother uttered her name softly. "Haven't seen her in over twenty years."
"What happened?"
"Diana flew off to Austria. She'd found some information about one of the Royal families. She thought she might learn more if she went there. I haven't heard from her since.
"So Diana knew about the Royal families?"
"We all know about the Royal families. They're what ultimately governs both worlds."
"One of the Seven Houses is in Austria?" asked Nick.
My grandmother nodded. "At least that's what Diana thought." She let out a long sigh. "I fear if she did find somethin' there, than she didn't survive. It's been so long since she left."
I looked back to the scroll. "You had a son, too?"
"Yeah. My son, James. James died durin' an attack. He was ten. Suzanne was just an infant, and she never got to know her brother." My grandmother cast her eyes down a moment.
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," I said solemnly, reading through the names on the tree. "It seems our family has lost quite a few members."
"It happens with Grimms. It's part of our fate."
I shuddered at those words. As I turned to Nick, he seemed to be taking them the same way.
"Have you eaten?" My grandmother asked. "I'll make us some supper."
A/N: So Renée is much more than a Grimm. And grandma is a bit more than the Grimm's we've seen before, too.
