O Fortuna
Chapter 11
Sanguine
Season 5 Episode 7, Eve of Destruction
-/-/-/-/-/-
Bright morning sun streamed in the loft's high windows, casting warm beams through the still air, which burned white dots into Adalind's vision. She had already cast off all the covers and would have pitched her clothes on the floor, except that every blanket she kicked off brought Rosalee snuggling more tightly against her, chuffing soft snores into her ear.
Kelly's coughs and protests exploded into screeching. Trubel's bed creaked and groaned as she grunted and hauled the pillow over her head.
Adalind untangled from Rosalee's sweltering embrace and scrubbed weary eyes. She scooped Kelly into her arms and pressed kisses into his cheeks on the way to the changing table. Tears welled up and her chest tightened as her emotions threatened to unwind. She beat back sleep addled shame and sadness over almost abandoning another child and steeled herself. Kelly was in her arms, pulling on her shirt, counting on her.
Bed beckoned as she nursed Kelly, but she pushed on. His legs drew up and his face crinkled, threatening another colic attack, but she headed it off with a dose of gas drops. Nothing eliminated it, but nursing and a steady supply of the magic drops was better than anything else. Her hopes for a few more hours sleep were dashed by the little one, wide awake, bouncing and crawling circles around the coffee table and couch.
Morning's first embers had barely started to drive the darkness from the living room. She moved Nick's blanket aside and was surprised, shocked really, to find the blood blisters and heavy bruising completely gone. The eyes, which had been swollen nearly shut, broken lips, and the ears slowly leaking red, had all returned to normal. The only evidence of something out of the ordinary was the dried blood and iodine stains. Curiosity got the better of her. The blanket pulled back, uncovering his chest and arm where half a dozen rows of stitches hid within a crust of dried blood and iodine. She marveled that barely six hours later, his stitches didn't seem to be there for any particular reason. Rosalee swears it actually worked.
Sure, he was covered in scars, but why leave more? Her brain was still pretty foggy, but she estimated at least another six hours before Rosalee's healing potion wore off. She gave him a gentle shake. "Hey, do you care if I start pulling these out?"
He mumbled something that sounded like implied consent, so she found a pair of fingernail clippers. The fishing line cut with a pop, like clipping tags off new clothing. She got into a quick rhythm, clipping and tugging. Each one left a single crimson drop oozing out. The first row on his left arm was out now, and then the second. Soon she was pulling knotted fishing line out of his stomach. Kelly caught her attention. He was pulling up on the coffee table and patting on Nick. She let out a chuckle, and her finger slid into her mouth. The world around her rocketed into perfect focus as her breath sucked in hard. Every scrap of fatigue evaporated. She was enveloped in awareness and the coppery scent of Nick's Grimm blood oozing out of his ice cold body in neat rows.
She froze. Did anyone see that? Her senses prickled. Rosalee was still snoring, Trubel's hands laid slack on the pillow hiding her head, and Nick's eyes were still shut. She heaved a sigh of relief. No one had to know her father's family secret. The one that surfaced a month before her mother ran him off and changed her name. That same secret turned into an inheritance, which led to an obsession which enticed a certain Hexenbiest into biting a Grimm, And the rest, as they say, is history.
Her jaws ached at the rich scent of Grimm blood drifting past her nostrils. Before she knew it, her finger had collected the little red dots on his stomach and wiped heaven onto her tongue. The world exploded into perfect clarity. Trubel's musky scent and last night's stale wine and bar food mixed into his sweat and day old blood. She turned her attention back to Nick and found herself gazing into his slate blue eyes. What had he seen?
Nick's dilated, steel blue eyes drew her mind's focus into a crystal clear waterfall the instant her tongue licked the blood off her finger.
What the heck? Her Hexenbiest powers were supposed to be suppressed... But the whole room was thrumming. It felt... Different... I wonder.
She relaxed and squinted, just like she had ten thousand times at work. The shadowy remnants of the dim living room swirled like smoke for a second and disappeared as she tunneled into a dark cavern shrouded in steel blue, pouring her headfirst into a roaring inferno of violence.
Bloody claws slashed, glittering fangs gnashed, and a rainbow of fiery eyes glowed red, orange, blue, green, yellow, and violet. He waited in the shadows, observing, stalking, hunting, sizing up each foe, axe in hand, hacking up his next quarry as it attacked. This was the wall of genocide which warded his thoughts. Grimms were famous for driving mind readers into madness when they tried to peer into their subconscious.
She turned her attention away from the black-eyed guardian and searched. Like the vision of the impenetrable briar patch months ago, there had to be a path.
Next to her was an image of herself, snarling and attacking the Grimm. Fists crushed into its bony face as it slashed at him. She was throttling him with magical blows until her withered face contorted in confusion. Blood dribbled past her leathery lips. Nick drew the long knife out of her ribs and she slid to the ground, gurgling curses and bright red foam until it vanished. Another image of herself was wrestling with Nick in her old bedroom. She was gnashing broken teeth and clawing gashes deep into his arms and chest. He pumped knees into her, tearing her grip loose, and straight kicked, sending her careening backwards. Fury turned to confusion as she clawed at the shattered remnants of her antique vanity chair, now sticking out of her chest. Matte gray eyes turned blue as blood sputtered out of her mouth. The mummified witch corpse transformed into blonde-haired Adalind, but her eyes were flat and lifeless.
The breath left her chest as the horror of ten thousand roaring deaths mounted, each one at Nick's hands. Adalind's throat was closing. She was choking, engulfed. Dungeon walls were closing in. The floor teemed with creeping things that gnawed and burrowed into her flesh, and every strategy simply drew them closer.
No! None of this happened!
She reminded herself of waking up out of one of her dungeon nightmares wrapped around Nick. He was petting her sweaty hair and rubbing gentle circles on her back through her drenched nightshirt, soothing and comforting her in the darkness surrounded by the clatter of ten thousand clocks.
I don't want to fight the father of my son. She wanted to...
She reached out and grabbed the Nick standing before her in the vision, pulling him to her. Her hand slid behind his head, and she pressed her lips into his.
The horror show evaporated as quickly as it appeared. Nick's eyes fluttered in the darkness. The moon cast inky shadows across the dressers, headboard, and her wood-framed mirror. He smiled, thinking of playing his guitar after dinner. Basking in the sweetness of her voice, as Kelly danced and clapped to her singing. She was inside his mind, and he was dreaming about three nights ago.
A floral scent wafted into Nick's nostrils. Long shadows shrouded Adalind's blonde head, nestled into the crook of his shoulder. Her cheek was soft and smooth against his neck. His hand trailed up the side of her thigh, up her waist, and stopped in the middle of her back. She murmured, threw her leg over his and shifted onto her side. His body warmed as her fingers twined into his and drew it under her fleece pajama shirt. Her head nestled deeper into his chest. The sweet scent of her skin was intoxicating in the darkness. She shifted and pressed her lips into his neck. His mouth watered. He hadn't had a woman in months, and he was about to explode. He shifted, trying to think about baseball games, watching football with Bud, Monroe's goiter, anything to get his mind off the visions of Adalind's swollen nipples in his mouth
He wanted to... His chest knotted. He couldn't risk it. Not after what happened to Juliette. He couldn't do that to her.
The visions listed to port and spiraled into a hazy blur. Adalind's mind crashed back into their living room, where her hand explored his muscular chest. Exhaustion poured into her brain like wet cement. Her thoughts careened out of focus, sinking into a jumbled slush while drool crept over her tongue at the coppery scent of fresh blood wafting past her nostrils.
Focus dammit! I don't think you exactly want a conversation about how it turns out that your father's family tree winds back through a Striga, and, oh, by the way, you may have inherited an itty bitty recessive gene which leaves you occasionally craving blood... Because, yeah, vampire witches are probably way better than the regular kind. This was absolutely not the sort of thing that needed to get out.
What the hell is wrong with you? She could count the times she wanted blood on one hand. Daily vitamins, extra iron supplements, and plenty of red meat usually kept it at bay. I meant to hit the grocery store two days ago, but everything went off the rails. She hadn't slipped up like this since... Her mind drifted back to the Bremen Ruins, shrouded in fog and deep shadows. The leeches? God Damn it! Mom!
She shook her head, banishing the thoughts, and went back to Nick's stitches. She resolved to buy a spool of the red stuff or maybe fluorescent. Clear fishing line was just too hard to find in the dark. But it didn't matter. The burst of clearheadedness was gone. She was fighting heavy eyelids and the scent of heaven wafting into her nostrils.
Her itchy eyes wouldn't focus as she worked in the dark living room. She was squinting, scrubbing her eyes, wishing Kelly had given her two more hours of sleep. You're fading fast. You need to see clearly.
Just one more taste? You are immune, after all.
The oozing holes had completely closed into soft pockmarks which vanished into his gray skin. Wow, he heals fast.
There was only a row and a half left on his chest, and she would be done. She only needed ten minutes of sharp eyes and nimble fingers
Her finger drifted over the muscles on his cold chest and then into her mouth. The world snapped back into gleaming, gilt-edged focus. Nick's glassy eyes were dilated, staring as her finger left her tongue. Her mind roared at ten thousand miles an hour. What if he saw you?
She brushed the skin beside the stitches. "Does it hurt when I pull them out?"
He shook his head and mumbled as his eyes drifted back shut.
She hurried now, and barely had the rest of them out before her vision blurred. Adalind's body felt dead, like it was full of sand, as she pushed up. Nick's hand wrapped around her. He mumbled while pulling her back towards himself. His eyes were flickering and the corners of his mouth twitching.
The Grimm was in the middle of a nightmare, and she knew better than to fight. She swung her feet onto the couch. His body settled when her head nestled into his shoulder. She was trying every trick in her arsenal to stay awake. Just wait it out. Her brain was just so foggy. Her fingers felt fat and stiff. His body's delicious cool greeted her, soaking Rosalee's heat back off. The dim world drifted out of focus while Kelly quietly babbled and shuffled her bedroom shoes. Uncooperative eyelids clawed to shroud her vision, and the loft disappeared.
Buzzing and soft puffs against her face turned into, "ma ma ma ma ma ma ma ma."
One eye cracked open to find Kelly patting her cheek with a fleece sock. She scrubbed over her eyes. "Hey, buddy."
His mouth opened into a bright giggle. Kelly shuffled past her face and started again. "Da da da da da da da da". This time, patting Nick's face
She couldn't help laughing when Kelly launched into a happy chorus of, "ma ma da da ma ma da da."
She blew a raspberry on his cheek and caught a quiet chuckle from across the room. Rosalee was giggling from the edge of Trubel's nook.
"Let's go get your car. Nick's is still in Washington."
She sighed and patted Nick's thigh. He shuffled and his arm released.
The clock on the microwave said a quarter to nine. She managed to talk Rosalee into waiting for a cup of coffee before they left, but gave up on the coffee maker. Her sleep-addled efforts earlier must have left half the parts in backwards, no filter, and a basket full of coffee grinds. We'll find some on the way.
Green spruce and fir trees shuffled by as they wound back to the spice shop. The voyage started quietly, but she could see the look in Rosalee's eyes. "So... Why did Nick want me to have Kelly and twenty thousand dollars?"
Rosalee's smirk bloomed. "You two really need to talk."
Adalind groaned, but Rosalee simply chuckled before continuing. "Unless the two of you just plan to be roommates until something better comes along..."
"What if we're not... You know... Biologically compatible?"
Rosalee glanced into the back seat and then laughed.
"Yeah, but I wasn't me. I was Juliette."
"Is Kelly Juliette's son?"
Fire welled up at the thought. "Of course not, but what if it doesn't, you know... Work... When we're us?"
Rosalee quirked an eyebrow. "Did Nick ever tell you how he got his powers back?"
"I never really asked. How about you tell me over a cup of coffee."
-/-/-/-/-/-/-
Rosalee piloted the tiny Fiat down the brick-lined alley behind the spice shop and rolled to a stop beside Juliette's Subaru and three white pickup trucks. "So.. Are you going to tell me what you did with the Venenum salatarius?"
Adalind groaned, but Rosalee cut her off. "I need to know what you did. The modern ingredients you substituted. The recipe is ancient. Well before The Crusades."
"Before they really understood analytical chemistry."
"It's not witchcraft..."
Her own smile bloomed. "Just chemistry. You really want to know?"
Broken shelves and bottles littered the floor. Two windows were shattered. Half the wood paneling in the back was crushed, leaving the rest ripped full of claw marks and splattered with blood. A huge chunk was smashed out of the wooden support column. The place looked like a bomb went off, but Arnold Rosarot and a crew of six Eisbeibers were making solid progress.
Tears rolled down Rosalee's nose as one of the men binned a shovelful of glass columns and beaker shards. Adalind laid a hand on her friend's shoulder as she cradled a smashed retort and wiped across her face. "They were my father's..."
"I'm so sorry."
"Sometimes... It's just hard being the one whose shop gets destroyed."
Adalind rubbed her friend's back. She had never seen despair fill Rosalee's eyes like this. She made a mental note. Sorting out this mess was easily going to take the better part of a month. Arnold's crew would have the structure up by the end of the week, but drywall, painting, and restocking would take a couple more weeks. "I'll help and we'll get your business back up as fast as we can. For now, put the word out that you're only taking phone and online orders."
Rosalee nodded, but the phone was already ringing. Adalind found a sheet of posterboard and made up a quick sign to hang in the front window. She made a mental note to find a sign company for an update. Even though the place kept an antiquated look, the world was moving forward and it seemed like Wesen apothecaries were disappearing because they were stuck seventy years in the past.
She was headed to the grocery store now. He's going to be really hungry. Rosalee's admonition made perfect sense. All that tissue regrowth would leave Nick ravenous, never mind Trudel's bottomless pit. Her mind drifted as she wandered the aisles. Why had Nick sent Rosalee on a mission to give her and Kelly, "a fresh start?" Why had Rosalee kept telling her that she and Nick really needed to talk? It was hard to believe that Nick actually agreed to sleep with Juliette after transforming into her, Hexenbiest and all.
Still, thinking about laying her soul bare made her nauseous. Their fragile truce survived because they didn't talk about it, didn't discuss the fact that they were enemies, two different species predisposed toward murdering each other, and completely incompatible. What they were doing worked specifically because ignorance is bliss. They just kept hand-waving it all away.
No, her single greatest fear WAS talking about it. She had no desire to soberly agree that what they were doing was impossible and foolish.
Then again, Bludbaden used to eat Fuchsbau... Adalind's poking around indicated that Monroe had partaken back in his wilder days... And Rosalee still had a book of Bludbaden specific poisons squirreled away on the shelf.
She was staring at the bone-in ribeye steaks behind the meat counter when Nick's words echoed from the night Trubel showed up. "I'm so sorry. I thought I got us away from all this."
Does Nick think I'm some delicate flower which will be sullied by the Wesen world, or that I'm afraid of it? The thought was so incredibly outlandish that it made no sense to her at all. She had never been afraid of the Wesen world... Ok, well, maybe once, the night she had lost her powers. It had always been the other way around. Even when she had no powers, they gave her a wide berth. Even the Mellifer Queen, the one who had threatened her life in a bid to commit suicide by cop, had been trembling the entire time. The woman had been scared out of her wits clutching Adalind Schade. While it was a new experience, she actually liked forming relationships with Wesen, but they weren't exactly beating a path to her door.
Yeah, that makes no sense, but these steaks do look really good. She picked three and grabbed a bag of potatoes along with a pile of breakfast and lunch fixings and more vitamins.
-/-/-/-/-/-
Eggs and sausage were frying. A pot of oatmeal slowly bubbled under its glass lid when the toaster popped up. A grunt echoed out of the living room.
Nick didn't so much wake up as launch straight out of the couch, but he stopped and stared.
She looked up from the sink. "How are you feeling?"
The worry etched into his face melted into relief. She was about to ask if he wanted her to go, but his color returned and he rubbed his eyes and the back of his head. "I feel like I got run over by a truck. What happened last night?"
"You got cut up pretty good at a bar in Washington."
He scrubbed his chest and arm. "I did?" His stomach growled. "Mmmh, my head feels like it's about to explode." He shuffled at the sheets strewn across the couch. His nose wrinkled. He smelled like a mixture of day-old blood, sweat, and violence. "Are you ok in there? I need a shower."
"Sure."
"Wow, that smells good."
Kelly crawled over and pulled up on his leg, patting with a happy chorus of, "Da da da da da."
Nick's smile bloomed. He lifted the boy into his chest and pressed a kiss onto his cheek while sneaking a sandwich made of a slice of toast, a piece of sausage, and a fried egg on the way to the bathroom.
Breakfast was a true spectacle to behold. Between Trubel and Nick, they polished off a dozen eggs, a pound of sausage, the pot of oatmeal, a loaf of bread, a whole stick of butter, a jar of strawberry jam, a gallon of milk, and two pots of coffee. Adalind watched, awestruck, as every scrap of food disappeared into the yawning abyss.
Nick and Trubel took care of the dishes, while Adalind refilled her baby bag. Soon, she and Nick wound their way out of the industrial park's concrete expanse on the way to Washington state. The bar was maybe half an hour past the turning basin on the east side of Vancouver. During the day, Roosters was a whitewashed concrete block dive stuffed into a pile of gravel halfway between civilization and the sticks.
Nick turned away and muttered, "Sometimes, I come out here to blow off steam."
"Being a cop isn't easy."
Nick let out a long sigh. "Nobody ever wants to get arrested. There's always somebody threatening to sue me, fight, or go after me."
She waited as he stared out into the early afternoon sun.
"And then, there are the ones who completely lose their minds because I'm a Grimm. They scream and carry on, make a big scene, and fight me. I know it's pretty weird."
She nodded. "Not really, I mean, I've gotten that my whole life. Rosalee and Monroe, Bud and his wife. You guys are great. Truthfully, Wesen usually give me a wide berth."
He chuckled. "You don't think they're curious about where we live?"
She shook her head. "I didn't exactly get visitors. This is the first time in my entire life I've even locked my doors."
Nick nodded. "What was it like growing up, you know, like you did?"
"I've known about Wesen for as long as I can remember. My mother did business with them. She had them woge, to show me. We had all sorts of Wesen children's books, and she told me Grimm stories. They stayed away from us, except for her business. The only friends I had in school were Kehrsite, because all the Wesen kids were terrified. She pulled me out of elementary school because several of the teachers and administrators were Wesen. She was convinced I wasn't getting a good education because they were too afraid to mark anything wrong. You really never knew about Wesen?"
Nick gave her a wink. "It wasn't just because you were really smart? Nobody ever told me anything until after I Grimmed. I actually learned that Wesen call themselves 'Wesen' from Monroe. The word Woge too. I didn't even know my eyes turn black."
"I wouldn't exactly call them black..."
He smiled. "You know, there's absolutely nothing about that in the books. It's like Grimms never asked how Wesen know about us. I really want Kelly to know."
"I don't think that's going to be a problem. Rosalee says he loves to play with her fur. Apparently, he can see Wesen just fine."
Nick's eyes lit a second before his stomach growled.
Rosalee's voice echoed through her mind. Just roommates? "You up for some wings? I'm really hungry."
Nick's face lit up.
Ten minutes later, the silver Land Cruiser led the gray Subaru into a small wing joint buried in a strip mall north of the Washington border. Nick scooped Kelly up and escorted Adalind into the scent of rich fried chicken bathed in a host of sweet, vinegary, and savory sauces. He ordered a dozen and a half buffalo wings, halfway between medium and mild, a basket of cheese curds, and a local IPA. His eyebrow perked when she winked and said, "I probably ought to be good and stick with hot wings, but their molten lava challenge wings look good. Will you help me finish them?"
His face blanched. "Not a chance, but go ahead if that's what you want."
"How about we just get two dozen of yours and I'll eat a few? I'll get a sample of the ghost pepper sauce and see what it's like."
"You want some fries?"
She winked, sure he'd eat them all. "Sure."
And they talked. She barely remembered anything about moving to Portland when her mother ditched her father. As she got older, her mother more or less disappeared for weeks, even months at a time. Then she ended up in Iowa with her grandparents. Nick told her about moving several times each year, like clockwork. Never staying in one place for more than eight or nine months. Most summers, they drove all over the US, Canada, and Mexico, camping. He sort of hunched and whispered, "She worked as a librarian, but I think she supported us by collecting bounties."
"Well, that would give her cover for collecting ancient books."
Nick's eyes glittered. "It makes total sense when you say that."
"So, how do you track people down with your cases?
"Most of the time, they're either standing there at the scene, or at their house waiting."
"I mean on the harder cases."
Nick shrugged. "You know that show, Criminal Minds?"
She nodded.
"It's kind of like that. We put together a profile, along with the evidence. Once we've got a pretty good idea of what we're looking for, then you have to dive into somebody's brain. Be them. Think like they think. Walk in their shoes. Do what they would do."
She nodded as she chewed on his words, letting them roll around. It was almost the polar opposite of the way she dealt with problems. Her strategy was generally to get inside somebody's head and make them do what she wanted...
He continued. "But it's also a lot of luck and just plain old grind. Do something enough and you'll leave evidence. Leave evidence and we'll find it. Hang around and you'll get caught. Most people don't have the resources to disappear. I had to bring you and Kelly home to a wrecked house because that's all I had."
She nodded as she dipped a wing into the hot sauce. "And it's not exactly like I had anywhere else to go."
Nick's eyes were watering, and red blotches were blooming on his face. "How do you eat that stuff?"
"It's really good. Sweet and savory with just the right hit of tangy and smoky. You should try some."
"I would die. Like right here."
"Oh, come on. I bet Kelly likes it."
Nick's eyes bugged out as she dabbed a bit on Kelly's lips. He licked it off with a smile and clapped. He pursed his lips and pulled at momma for more. She spooned a dollop onto his plate and his hands went straight into it, wiping more across his cheeks, nose, and eyes than he got into his mouth. He laughed and clapped while most of the kitchen staff gawked, white faced. Nick gaped. "You've got to be kidding me. Kelly, you're selling your dad out on the whole napalm thing?"
Kelly giggled and clapped before smearing another handful of sauce across his face and mouth while Nick coughed and his nose watered. "How do you eat that stuff? It is burning my eyes all the way over here."
She batted her eyes playfully and teased, "You big baby," while dipping another wing into the bowl of Napalm, as Nick called it.
Nick's eyes glittered as he laughed through the tears and coughing.
-/-/-/-/-/-
Arnold's crew had made significant progress inside the old spice shop. The smashed wood paneling lay heaped out back in a blue dumpster. The walls were open, stripped to their bare studs. The broken tables, chairs, and cot were banished as well, revealing a room that was three times as large as it looked before.
Rosalee's spirits brightened with the promise of jettisoning snarled webs of extension cords, power strips, and two prong outlets for updated electrical wiring. She was also looking forward to improving the workbenches and plumbing to add actual sinks with drains instead of the old basins that emptied into buckets.
Adalind was expecting a long night at the spice shop when Rosalee got a call from Nick. Something important was happening at the precinct, and they needed Monroe and Rosalee there. Nick apologized that he would probably be missing dinner, which meant no steaks and another quiet night with Trubel. A twinge rumbled through her stomach, and she checked the ingredient list for the healing potion. They were out of dried grapefruit and orange peel. May as well pick up something else for dinner, and some citrus, a fresh jar of baby formula, vitamins, Pedialyte, and nasal spray.
On a whim, she asked Rosalee about recipes for blood expanders and received a groan in reply. "I've got a couple old recipes that use egg whites, but I don't really trust them. I wish I could get the pharmaceutical stuff, but it's just too hard if you're not a hospital."
She nodded and made a mental note to research blood expanders. Her chuckle received a quirked eyebrow from Rosalee. She answered, "You won't believe this, but I wrote about Allene Jeanes for my reports about female role models."
Rosalee wore a blank look.
Adalind laughed. "You might be a nerd if you won a sophomore year high school science fair for fermenting batches of Dextrans in your grandparent's Iowa farm basement. It was a blood expander she pioneered. It's pretty easy to make with the right equipment, but it takes a couple weeks."
"How in the world did you end up a lawyer?"
"My mother. She threw a fit every time I mentioned working at a pharmaceutical company."
"We probably ought to get started on that sooner than later. Hey, you got some mail."
Adalind looked over the envelope from the city attorney's office. She knew they were going to follow the typical bureaucratic path. Blame everybody else, circle the wagons, and double down on their bid to punish the business owners over the new asbestos regulations, but the nasty letter still left a snarl rippling across her face. This mess was going to get worse before it got better, but then again, that was her actual day job. "Rosalee, don't panic about these letters. I've dealt with this sort of thing before. Most likely, it's going to end up in a series of huge court cases. The city is going to try to sue you and slap on a ton of fines. Their plan is to intimidate small businesses who can't afford to defend themselves, one at a time, for five or seven years. We've got to get out in front of this. I've got the beginnings of the motions put together. I just wish I had the resources I had back at my old law firm."
Rosalee scrubbed her eyes and let her breath trickle out. "Do you really think it will go to court?"
Adalind drummed the letter. "They know they have no choice but to run an end-around. Basically, the idea is to smear you guys and then litigate you into bankruptcy. The old law requiring asbestos fire protection is still on the books. You have to pay for an application for the permit review and for an exception approval each time you use a substitute fire retardant material. They are also making a fortune on asbestos demolition permits as well as abatement licensing. They know every single job is full of it, because it's still required."
"Why are they going after us?"
"Money. Property taxes are down because of the recession. They're sniffing around for revenue sources. They know they won't win a special election to jack up a big property tax millage increase when everybody is out of work. You can barely give property away right now, so they're going after fines. We've called them out on it. They're in trouble and they know it."
-/-/-/-/-
Kelly quietly slept while Adalind paged through one of her thick law books. She had no doubt that she had a winning case. What she doubted was having the time and energy to personally deal with the tidal wave of paperwork and filings coming her way. The first thing the city attorneys would do is file court motions against two hundred business owners. They would spread these across as many judges and courtrooms as possible, and maximize case overlap to force you into trying to be in ten places at once. As much as she hated the idea of reaching out to them, Berman had the sort of gigantic resources she needed. Never mind that both Berman and old man Rautborts loved the prestige supreme court wins got them. Her last three big cases had flooded the firm with business.
She smiled at the clatter of the elevator's wooden gate. Nick was home. He would never ask her to warm up leftovers for him, but she liked doing it. She had never enjoyed eating alone and knew he felt the same way.
Her hand was on the bedroom door when yelling erupted in the kitchen. Nick was dressing down Trubel when the words, "Juliette is alive!" burst through the quiet.
What the hell? Her mind was roaring thousand miles an hour as she shot to her feet and slid the partition door open.
Her stomach knotted as she walked into the middle of the argument. Yes, that Juliette. The same one Nick had killed for. The one she had driven out of her mind with rage and hatred.
Why in the hell didn't you take the money and your son and get out when you had the chance? My mother would have already dressed him down, carrying on endlessly, and wouldn't have spoken a word to him until he came crawling back on his hands and knees. Most likely, she would have flown into a rage and charged headlong into Juliette.
She paused, forcing herself to slow down. Do the opposite. One of the most valuable guiding tenets of her life over the last ten years had been: Figure out what Mom would do, then do the opposite. Case in point, her mother decided to fight it out with a Grimm and ended up dead, whereas she had lived. Disaster had swallowed her headfirst every single time she failed to follow this maxim.
Worry twisting her stomach instantly flared into jealousy. It wasn't easy to give him the benefit of the doubt, but, Nick is already here with me, let's not jeopardize that... And... You get a lot more bees with honey than with vinegar...
She had never been bested by another woman, Hexenbiest or not, and today wasn't going to be the day.
To his credit, Nick seemed aware of the gravity of the current situation, as well as her likely reaction. He had already connected the dots that Juliette worked for the same group as Trubel. He was getting out in front of it.
Panic was brewing in Trubel's eyes as Nick drove straight into interrogation. She clearly wanted to tell him everything, but couldn't. Adalind dropped Meisner's name, and relief washed over Trubel's face. Nick's secret phone held the answers he sought.
Meisner confirmed it was her, but cryptically added that Juliette didn't exist anymore. The slightest hint of solace crept into Adalind. Maybe Juliette wasn't here to kill her, but it was still troubling that they used her to rescue Nick.
She knew how he was, his heart, and his loyalty. He had spent months mourning Juliette. Never mind their six years together. Her stomach clenched. Maybe admitting it meant she was weak, but she needed some reassurance. Police business beckoned. He was off again and put a frazzled Trubel on watch.
Kelly was calling. She hoisted him into her arms and walked around, rocking him in the dark.
Trubel was piled on the corner of her bed, face buried in her hands. She looked up, revealing puffy eyes and tear streaked cheeks, and sniffed out, "I hate all this secret agent shit."
"You weren't supposed to tell us, were you?"
Trubel sniffed and scrubbed her eyes. "You probably hate me right now."
Adalind let her breath trickle out before she answered. A new feeling tickled her brain as the shock wore off. Pieces were falling into place, answering questions that had lingered, but a strange suspicion gnawed in the back of her mind.
Real life is never this neat and tidy. Why did Juliette leave a cushy new life with the Royals? It's hard to believe she just randomly decided to give up her place on the King's helicopter, the one that coincidentally never turned up again. How did she get back to Nick's place, thirty-five miles, without a car? Was she recruited too? Her faked death would have been the perfect exit strategy. Going after Nick would have made the perfect excuse with The Royals, especially after Prince Kenneth. They wouldn't ask any questions. And then Trubel just happens to show up exactly on time with tranquilizer darts properly calibrated for a Hexenbiest with her body weight, an entire recovery party, a team to deal with Nick, as well as a cleanup crew to white wash it. We're talking close coordination of at least three teams. Forty people and a Grimm. How would they specifically know where and when to find Juliette? That's not luck...
Trubel was pacing now. "How am I supposed to do this? It's easy when you don't care about anybody around you, but Nick is like the only actual family I have. You and Rosalee and Monroe are about the only other people who actually know me, outside HW."
"Did they recruit Juliette?"
Surprise filled Trubel's face. "Huh? I don't think so, but... Why would they have me dart her?"
Adalind let it pass, but Trubel continued. "Why in the hell would they bring her here? I'm here. The one who shot her. She was trying to kill Nick. It makes no sense."
Trubel was certainly distressed. Adalind had no trouble seeing that much, but she genuinely didn't seem to know about Juliette being here.
Meisner was running both Juliette and Trubel? Juliette had to be going along with it or they would just end up murdering each other. More likely Trubel would kill Juliette. That's just how things go with Grimms. Unless they recruited her. Veterinarian to secret agent spy warrior has to be a pretty steep learning curve. "How did the Wesen on your teams react to you?"
A long, slow sigh drifted out. "I never knew how different things were here. I was expecting them to, you know, reach out and get to know me, like you guys did, but nobody would even talk to me. Even now, there are only a few Wesen that will work with me. When we were planning to bring her in, none of them would touch her until she was completely unconscious. So, there I was, attacking my best friend's girlfriend the night they murdered his mother. It was horrible."
Adalind let her eyes drift closed. Nobody needed to remind her how different it was with Nick, Rosalee, and Monroe. How many Hexenbiests could say they had any of this? Trubel's bed let out a metallic groan as she sat down and rubbed the Grimm's back. "You did the right thing. Nick is frustrated, but he will understand. I know it's hard. So does Nick. We can't talk about our cases either."
"Then why does it feel like I betrayed him."
"Because it still sucks."
Trubel groaned. "What am I supposed to do?"
"I would let Meisner deal with Nick."
She fixed Trubel a snack and then went back to a gassy baby fighting one of his all-too frequent bouts with colic.
She was bouncing baby Grimm in the bedroom, bleary-eyed after the endless day, but her mind was buzzing, rolling around all this business, trying to make sense of it. The only possible angle that checked off all the boxes was that they recruited and trained Juliette, but nobody would work with her. Trubel had a prior relationship with her, and that would break the ice with the other Wesen agents. The Grimm would also provide a backstop if something got out of hand. But why bring them here? That was the question.
Tears welled up as her stomach knotted. Thoughts and emotions were reeling every which way. Things seemed to be going so well, and now this. The odds were about even that everything they had together was over. I'm keeping my son!
She was still pacing, with her baby drawn tightly into her chest, when the garage door's grinding announced Nick's return. He spent some time with Trubel, settling things back down.
The reading lamp on the end table threw a yellow glow into the dark bedroom. Nick let his words trickle out as he came in. "Still awake?"
Who was she kidding? She was keyed up with her mind buzzing five hundred miles an hour. She was trying as hard as she could to maintain her composure. But, I won't be played the fool.
Kelly's bag was packed and sat beside her own. Adalind and her son were dressed and ready. She could be out of the house in under five minutes. She laid Kelly into the bassinet and sat on the foot of the bed. "It's kinda hard to sleep after finding out that the woman who tried to kill me, and you, and help The Royals steal my daughter is alive and well."
Nick checked on the baby and then headed towards her. His glance flicked to the bags on the floor and back to her. "I'm not going to let her hurt you."
"You heard Trubel, she's a weapon. What if she goes after Kelly? What if she's like the old Juliette and wants you back? I know you feel responsible, and that makes you vulnerable. That makes me and our son vulnerable..."
He settled in against her. His voice was calm but rock solid. "Juliette being back does not change the way I feel about Kelly or you."
She fought the urge to scoop up Kelly and hit the door. She cursed her weakness. What the hell had he done to make her crave his words. "You sure?"
His voice was resolute. "I'm sure."
Adalind's breath trickled out.
Nick's arm wrapped around her and pulled her head into his shoulder. His lips pressed into the top of her head. "Thank you for stitching me up last night, and for getting me squared away with the healing potion stuff. Monroe told me."
She nodded. Nick pulled her into his chest as he laid back. Her steeled nerves started to unravel. The giant roller coaster of pent up worry and adrenaline, bracing for rejection mixed with exhaustion and fatigue, was breaking loose. Silent tears dribbled down her nose while Nick massaged her hair. Soon, she was nestled into the crook of his shoulder with her arm wrapped around him.
It almost felt like they were an actual couple. Warmth drove off the shivers and goosebumps which had crept in unawares. Sleep flooded over her like a tidal wave, and the world disappeared.
Blaring alarms and the garage door's grinding ripped her eyes open and sent a knot straight into the pit of her stomach. Nick was up like a shot, gun in hand, sweeping for intruders on the way to the security monitors, with her close on his heels. The video feed revealed Trubel's motorcycle jetting out of the garage. She was gone, and Nick was pacing in the dappled moonlight.
Adalind rubbed her eyes. "Why would Trubel leave?"
Nick's hands rubbed through his hair. "She wouldn't..." He turned towards Kelly's bassinet with concern etched across his face.
She leaned against his back. "She's working for Meisner, right?"
Nick scrubbed his eyes and nodded. He was already dialing the secret squirrel phone. The call was short. As expected, Meisner wouldn't reveal anything about Trubel either way, but his voice betrayed doubt. He ended the call thanking Nick for the heads up.
Nick sat back down at the end of the bed. "I was too hard on her tonight."
"Probably, but I hope Juliette's handlers keep her on a leash."
Nick nodded. "I don't exactly have the best track record with spiteful Hexenbiests hunting revenge."
She turned towards Kelly's crib. "It didn't turn out all bad."
Nick's chuckle huffed out. "That's not what I meant."
He glanced over at the duffel bags and then let his fingers settle on her blue jeans clad leg. "Monroe said something happened last night, and now this. This is such a mess."
"Six years is a long time."
His elbows were on his knees when he pressed his face into his hands. "My aunt told me to cut it off right after I got my powers... Did you ever date Kehrsite?"
"More than I'd like to admit, but it never lasted long. Can you imagine taking a car salesman to meet my mother."
Nick's chuckle quickly drooped into a frown. "Yeah, well, at least you didn't spend three years lying to your girlfriend about almost every single aspect of your life. She never knew the sort of danger she was in because she didn't know Wesen existed."
Her stomach knotted. "It's not your fault. I should not have gone after her."
He groaned. "You weren't the first or even the last. You know the score. And how many Wesen are going to go after a Hexenbiest and our son."
She already knew the answer to that question. "Or his father, the Grimm."
He laid back down, pulling her into his chest. "My sleeping doesn't freak you out? The no pulse or breathing thing."
She let a little grin creep out and ran a finger over his chest. "Truthfully, I kinda like it. You don't snore, and there's no noisy breathing in my ear."
His smile bloomed. "She used to wake me up three or four times a night. I'd be completely worn out and there she was, yelling and shaking the hell out of me at two AM."
She quirked her eyebrow. "I thought it was just a Grimm thing."
He shook his head. "Prince Eric had a Cracher-Mortel zombify me. He was trying to kidnap me to get his own Grimm or something. Rosalee sorted out a cure, but there were some... Side effects. None of the Kehrsites or Wesen he infected had any lingering issues. I guess it's different with me."
Nick's forehead crinkled. "It really doesn't bother you?"
She traced a circle on the tee shirt. "Best thing ever. You know, I don't have trouble with nightmares when you're next to me."
Nick's eyes glittered as his hand slid over her shoulder. Her resolve crystallized when he pulled her into his chest, and said, "These last couple months, things are just better with you next to me."
A strange feeling swelled inside her. For the first time in her life, Adalind was home.
-/-/-/-/-/-
AN. I always wondered why Adalind bit Nick... Why not have a little fun with it?