Chapter 53

My back was stiff as a board when I awoke, but my pride was intact. Considering the sleeping arrangements, I actually got some sleep. Not a lot, due to the nightmares of my grandmother going all Kill Bill on my Wesen friends. Yeah, that dream woke me up a few times. I yawned as I stretched in the car and then glanced at my watch. It was almost seven-thirty. Surprisingly, Monroe was still asleep beside me.

"Hey, Monroe," I said while shaking him awake. He had a woge as he darted his head all around.

I rubbed his shoulder. "Hey, we're in my car. It's okay."

He arched his back as he winced. "What time is it?"

"Seven-thirty. Time to wake up."

We went back to the porch and knocked on the door. Locks were opened and my grandmother stared at us blankly by the open door.

"Sleep well?" she asked sarcastically.

"Amazingly well. Thank you for asking." I gave an obligatory smile as we walked in. My grandmother glared at Monroe.

"Couch," she uttered while pointing.

"Yes ma'am." He awkwardly bowed at her and sat on the couch, crossing his legs as she locked the door.

Nick came in and rubbed his eyes. His dark hair was sticking up here and there.

"Hey guys." His toothy grin emerged.

"Hey, man," Monroe replied, looking him over. "I didn't know your hair was capable of that."

Nick smoothed it down quickly and crossed his arms. "You guys okay?"

"Yeah. We're perfect," I replied dryly and sat down next to Monroe.

"I'm makin' breakfast," said my grandmother, ignoring my sarcasm. The aroma of bacon, sausage, and burnt coffee permeated the air. "It'll be on the table shortly." She walked back toward the kitchen.

"Maybe there'll be something I can actually eat this time," said Monroe once my grandmother was out of sight.

"I have another bag of M&Ms in the back seat," offered Nick. He sat down on the chair.

"Yeah. Breakfast of champions." Monroe shook his head. "Please tell me they're peanut, so at least I'll get some protein."

Nick smiled. "You're in luck."

Breakfast was similar to dinner. Nick and I were allowed at the table. My pet Blutbad was sequestered to the couch.

"I really don't understand the reasoning why Monroe can't sit at the table," I said sharply. Perhaps, I needed more sleep.

"I will not dine with a Blutbad," she snapped back. "Mind yourself." She shook her fork at me.

I moved my eyes back to my plate and added a biscuit and eggs.

"What did you cook these in?"

"Bacon grease."

I pushed the plate away. I'd just eat something at the closest gas station when we left this godforsaken place.

Nick was diving into his bacon and sausage with gusto as he talked to my grandmother about the time he and his partner shot the Blutbad postman that was kidnapping little girls. Bad form, Mr. Detective.

"But if it hadn't been for Monroe then we would've never found him," he added. Well, at least he'd mentioned that part.

My grandmother sighed. "So he can hunt out his own. That's nothin' special."

"Yes, but he did it to save the life of the kidnapped girl," Nick told her.

"But how many lives has he taken in return?"

Nick and I stopped and stared at each other. It was no secret that Monroe had been true to his nature in the past. We couldn't refute that. My grandmother smiled at her comeback. She knew she was right.

I stared back at her. "If you could stop mindlessly killing, then why is it so hard to believe that he could stop, too?"

My grandmother pursed her lips. There, two could play at this game. Nick shot me a smile and nodded.

"I'm not continuin' this conversation. I believe breakfast is over." She rose from the table, picking up empty plates as she went and moved off into the kitchen.

I stood and piled on a plate of eggs and biscuits for Monroe while she was away. I didn't want to offer him bacon grease, but he couldn't go hungry. If it was a problem, then he just wouldn't eat it.

Monroe smiled at me as I stepped into the living room. I passed him the plate.

"Now, I can make you some eggs without the… umm…"

He took a bite and groaned. "Does that woman cook with anything else?" He shook his head. "We're just going to ignore the bacon grease today," Monroe mumbled as he ate quickly.

"Monroe, I'm so sorry."

"It's fine. I'll follow up with M&M's to get me by."

"I can't believe the things she said in there." The cabin was small, so even without super Blutbad hearing, the words my grandmother spoke would've been heard easily in the living room.

"Thanks for defending me," he said. "But she's right in a way. I could save a thousand people, but it doesn't mean it fixes my past. Believe me, I know what I did wrong."

"It's not about righting your past. We've all done things we can't take back. All we can do is go forward and change the future. The universe is…"

Monroe took my hand, stopping me. "It's okay, Renée. Thank you though."

"You can't take anything that woman says as truth," I murmured almost silently. "You are a good, wonderful individual who has more heart than anyone I know."

"Yeah, but all she's concerned with are the hearts I've ripped out of…"

I put a finger to his lips. "No, we will not go down that road."

Monroe shrugged with a sigh of defeat. He finished his plate and I took it to the kitchen.

Much like the rest of the house, the kitchen was old fashioned with a flagstone floor. Normally you'd see flooring like that on a patio, but not in a kitchen. Distressed wood cabinets and cheap yellow laminate counter tops matched the walls, which probably hadn't been painted in eons. It didn't make for a cozy space. My grandmother was scrubbing dishes at an old, porcelain sink as I set the plate down.

"Feedin' him again, huh?" she scoffed as she dunked the plate in the soapy water.

"Monroe has to eat like the rest of us," I replied as evenly as I could. "The things you said about him weren't necessary. I realize I don't know you, but you have to understand you don't know us either."

"You didn't grow up in this world," my grandmother said quietly, not deviating from her scrubbing. "Don't talk to me 'bout what I do or don't know. You didn't get to witness the thangs I've seen… thangs like that one on the couch tearin' people to shreds right in front of your eyes. Thangs that murdered members of my family. Your family. You missed out on that, Renée. So don't come here and defend the same creatures your ancestors worked so hard to eradicate to save the lives of innocent people. That's an insult and a slap in the face to your kin." The words practically spat out of her mouth. "If I'd even let one of those thangs cross my doorstep without puttin' a bullet in its brain, my grandmother would've disowned me. And you come here and bring one into my home without a second thought."

"I didn't come here to insult you. I came here to understand. And I understand that our worlds and ideologies are very different. How I grew up was poles apart than how it might have been if I'd grown up with you. But my mom… Suzanne… She did grow up here and she didn't believe this was the way it should be. Maybe that says something."

"You are your mother's daughter," she uttered tersely as she turned toward me. "I'm too old to have the same arguments I had over thirty years ago. I won't go through that again."

"I don't want to argue with you. If we can agree to disagree then let's do that. I came here because I wanted to know you. Please realize I just found out the family I've loved my whole life was not really mine. You are my family, and family has always been something very important to me."

"Our heritage is important. What we do isn't for the weak minded. I wouldn't wish this ability on anyone. But this is what we are. And we have a responsibility to use the ability how it was meant to be used."

"Even Nick's aunt told him he had to hunt down the bad ones. And Monroe… Well, he's not bad. Not anymore."

"That plate is empty. He ate the eggs and the biscuits even though they had bacon grease in 'em."

"Well, he was starving. The man had peas last night for dinner."

"Not even a full two days and he has a slip up," she smirked. "They all give in to their desires eventually. Today his was eggs and biscuits with bacon grease because he was hungry. Tomorrow it could be you because he hasn't tasted a human in a while."

"Giving in to bacon grease is different than just killing someone for kicks. He's been Wieder for ten years."

"Did you eat your breakfast after I told you about the bacon grease?"

"No," I softly replied.

"That answer speaks for itself."

I sighed. There was nothing I was going to say to convince this woman Monroe was okay. She was worse than Chloe had ever been. And she made her own convincing arguments. Just a bit too convincing. Perhaps I'd inherited my smooth talking skills from her. Even I had to admit that Monroe didn't seem too fazed about the bacon grease, although I'd skipped my breakfast because of it. No, I wasn't going to buy in on her stupid logic. I knew Monroe better than she ever would.

"So, do you think you might be able to talk to the elder Waldgeist today?" I asked. When in doubt, change the subject.

She gave me a satisfied smile. She had won. "Yes, but as I mentioned, it's risky to have you meet 'em."

"I really would like the opportunity. They're my family, too."

"I will go there and try. But I can't guarantee they'll agree."

"I'd appreciate you trying."

I left the kitchen and walked in on Monroe's dismal face in the living room.

Making sure my grandmother wasn't around, I sat down beside Monroe and kissed him quickly.

"Careful, I might get a hankering for human at any moment."

"Start with the one in the kitchen if you do," I whispered as I stood up. "I'm going to the car to find you those peanut M&Ms."

(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)

I was allowed to get a shower and change my clothes. Monroe was denied all rights to the bathroom. He assured me it was like camping and he'd manage. Perhaps our farce wasn't so far off... Especially after sleeping outside last night.

After I'd freshened up, I entered the living room where my grandmother was waiting for me.

"I will return shortly," she said as she reached for an old, well-worn, denim coat. "I'm gonna go talk to the elder. When I return I'll inform you of what his decision is 'bout a meetin'."

I nodded slowly. I waited around ten minutes after she'd left before I said anything.

"Monroe, can you tell if she's gone?"

He sniffed the air. "Yeah she's about half a mile out at least."

"Good," I said. "Nick, get in here!" I called out.

"What is it?" Nick asked. His hair was still damp from his shower. He rubbed his hands. "I really need some new bandages."

"I have a first aid kit in the trunk," I replied hastily. "We need to talk. We don't have much time."

For the next twenty minutes we briefed Nick on everything from the ruse of Louisville, to the Endezeichen-Grimms.

"So, this woman wasn't kidding. She was actually terminating Wesen?" Nick asked with eyes wide.

"Not kidding. At least she says she used to. Now she's allegedly stopped? I don't know if I buy it," I replied, making a face. "So please, Nick, let's keep the story that we're all from Louisville. She doesn't need to know anything about Portland."

"Okay, but don't you think she'll figure it out?"

"The woman lives like a hermit in the middle of the forest. She doesn't even have a phone. No, she won't figure it out."

Monroe shook his head. "I don't know, man. That woman is smart."

"No, she's just wicked. Evil and wicked," I retorted. "That whole bacon grease thing she pulled." I scowled. "She's trying to starve you on purpose."

"Well, she's doing a good job. I could devour a whole salad bar right now." Monroe's stomach growled as if right on cue.

"If my dad's side of the family wants to meet me, I promise I'll make it brief and we'll head home as soon as possible."

Dude, we've got grandma at about two-hundred yards," said Monroe as he sniffed the air.

"Okay, so are we good?"

Both Monroe and Nick nodded. Monroe resumed his position on the couch and I took the chair beside him. Nick had promised Juliette a phone call and seemed to be able to get a signal bar in the guest bedroom, so he went back there to make the call.

The door opened a few minutes later. My grandmother's bleak eyes met mine. It looked like I was going home sooner than I thought.

"They'll meet with you in an hour," she said while locking the door.

"Really?" With her expression I wasn't expecting that response.

"Yes, but please be polite and cautious. You must go alone." She gave me directions to where I was to meet them. "For now I wanna show you a few photos."

I looked to Monroe, who motioned me on with his eyes. I stood slowly and reached for my car keys in my pocket.

I passed the keys to Monroe. "Here, take care of Nick's hands for me, okay?"

Monroe nodded. I followed my grandmother to her bedroom and sat on the edge of her bed. She brought out a few photo albums. I wasn't used to seeing pictures in albums since my mom was awful about finding time to organize them.

The first book held photographs of my mom and my aunt together playing on a swing set. They seemed like normal, happy children. Neither one wore a shirt that said 'Mommy's little Wesen Hunter.'

"Suzanne was four and Diana was eleven in this photo," she said. "We were in Saginaw then. We moved to Crescent City when Suzanne was seventeen after my husband was killed by a pack of Rissfleichs. We just weren't safe there anymore."

I clasped a hand to my mouth. My grandfather died at the hand of a pack of tigers? After watching just one in the Gladiator ring with that Jägerbar, I couldn't imagine a whole pack of them.

My grandmother pulled out a much older photo. "This is me and my grandmother after one of our hunts. This was taken in Smyrna, Tennessee. That's where I was born." Okay, so that explained the southern drawl.

"So, which one of your parents had… the gift? Or was it both?"

"No, my parents couldn't see. Neither could my other sister, Magda. My uncle could, which was my father's brother. Not everyone has the ability."

"Oh, really?"

"My grandparents on my father's side could and so could Suzanne and Diana. James didn't seem to have it, but he was young and male. Males don't see as early as us women do. I had a cousin who didn't see the truth until he was almost forty."

"But I thought someone had to die to get the ability."

"No. Wesen think that. We want 'em to believe it, but that's not how it works."

"But I've been able to see all my life."

"Wesen, even half, would be able to see their own kind." There it was again, the stark separation. I was half-Wesen. It had nothing to do with Grimm abilities. I held my tongue.

She pulled another photo. "This is my James." I took the picture of a grinning boy in overalls smiling back at me. "James was killed by a Blutbad."

My eyes shot up. "A Blutbad?"

"You can't trust 'em, Renée," she said with her blue eyes wide. I breathed out slowly. Maybe I'd underestimated this woman. A Blutbad had killed her son and she was letting Monroe stay.

"I didn't know… I'm sorry. But Monroe's different. He's so different."

"I used to feel what you're feeling. That some of 'em might be decent. But then I learned they'll tell you want you want to hear. They scheme, they lie, and then once you trust 'em, they'll kill you."

"What happened to your son was awful. I'd have the same trepidations if I'd experienced such a loss. But that man… he wants to be good. He wants to better himself."

"They all say that. The one that killed James wanted a better life for him and his family, and I let him go as he begged on his knees to spare him his life. He snuck off to my home while I was out huntin' and murdered my son that evenin'." Her eyes darkened. "It was the last time I ever listened to one of 'em. Liars. All of 'em. Once I found that Blutbad again, he got to watch as I killed his family. Then I chopped of his head." Her face distorted into a cruel smile.

"Then why did you stop?" I asked with exasperation. "Why didn't you just kill Monroe, too?"

"I stopped because you love him."

I flinched at the 'L' word. Monroe was hearing all this in the other room. If this stranger knew I loved him, then surely he knew that, too.

"That dog," she continued with a scowl. "My own flesh and blood with a mongrel Wesen."

"He's not a dog," I snapped back. "He's a man… A good man."

"Well, whatever he is, I stopped because you need to trust me, too. If I'd killed him then you wouldn't have stayed."

"No, I wouldn't have stayed," I said sharply. "Nick probably would've shot you."

"That's why I didn't kill him, too. That you're alive and here is a miracle to me. All this time I thought you were as dead as your parents."

This woman had a hard way of showing her relief. I nodded, however, and didn't say anything more.

More photos of relatives were spread out on the bed. My grandmother had a story to tell about each one. Their first kill, their last kill, and what they were remembered for. Some had been killed by Wesen, as she'd alluded to earlier. Stories were told of how they died, what killed them, and who avenged their death. A few had died from Reapers.

"Do you know about Reapers, Renée?"

I nodded slowly. "I've seen two."

My grandmother's eyes widened. "And you survived 'em both? You do have luck on your side."

"They were together. I knocked one out and Monroe…" I looked down again. I could tell her how Monroe saved my life, but it wouldn't have mattered to her. "Anyway, it wasn't a pleasant experience."

"How long ago was this?"

"The first week of March."

"This March? But that was just…"

"Last month." I finished her sentence. "They were at my father's funeral."

"If they're sendin' Reapers out now… Gracious." She looked at me sharply. "Are you sure you weren't followed here?"

"No one followed us. You're safe," I assured her. Of course she was worried about her own safety.

"Stay here." She stood and went to a drawer, getting out a sheet of paper and a pen. She wrote frantically, then finally handed the page to me. "This won't make sense now, but if anythin' happens to me, it will all be clear, and you'll know what to do."

I skimmed the scribbling on the page. Something about a certain book and 'the blue one is what you'll need.' She was telling me how to open the secret room.

"Guard that page, put it somewhere safe."

I nodded, sliding the folder paper into my jeans. "How will I know if anything happens to you?" I asked her.

She gave me a knowing look. "You will." She glanced at her clock in the room. "You need to go to the elder. Do you remember the directions I gave you?

I nodded and repeated them back.

"Good, you have an excellent memory. Go now, and remember what I said about how you should speak to 'em. They won't tolerate what I have."

If aiming shotguns, starving my boyfriend, and forcing him to sleep outside was any indication of what my grandmother thought toleration meant, then I had no clue what I was about to walk into out in the woods.


A/N: Grandma is evil, but perhaps she has a good reason to be.

Off to meet Renée's other side of the family! Here we go!