Chapter Eight
The silence surrounding Nick wove ominously around the trees, causing his ears to strain for the slightest disturbance. He couldn't hear a sound, and his eyes noticed no movement among the foliage, but some inherent sixth sense insisted that there was someone there, watching him.
Tracking him.
Nick twisted suddenly, hoping to catch someone sneaking up on him from behind. Seeing nothing there, his muscles relaxed slightly.
A heavy force slammed into him from the right, sending him flying to the side. Nick hit the ground awkwardly on his left arm, his breath whooshing out of his lungs, but he managed to roll with the impact and rise into a crouch.
His assailant was ready for him, immediately striking him in the side of the head. Nick fell back to the ground, his ears ringing.
"You're going to have to do better than that," Matthew said, standing over Nick and frowning down at him unsympathetically. "You never even saw me coming."
"Yeah," Nick wheezed, rolling over and pulling himself up on his hands and knees. "I caught that."
He lifted his head only to notice that Matthew had vanished, leaving him on his own once more. Huffing, Nick dragged himself to his feet.
Nick had chosen the same section of woods where he and Monroe usually practiced. Aside from being secluded enough so as to avoid awkward encounters with the occasional hiker, it had the added benefit of giving Nick the home field advantage.
Not that there had been any advantage apparent. Matthew had wandered off just after they had arrived and had had no difficulties in proceeding to wipe the floor with Nick.
Nick winced as he rotated his left arm. Determining that nothing felt broken, and that the injury wasn't anything that an ice pack couldn't handle, Nick settled back into a slight crouch, trying once more to find Matthew.
The snap of a twig off to his left had his head turning in that direction. His first thought was to investigate the source, but an older instinct, just beginning to awaken within him, drove him sharply backward.
Matthew flew past him, right where Nick had just been standing. He spun effortlessly around, swinging a fist. Nick threw up his arm to block, not realizing until the fist connected that it was his sore arm. Grunting, Nick ruthlessly shoved the burst of pain down and lifted his leg, kicking Matthew in the stomach.
Matthew flew back, landing on the ground already rolling back to his feet. He gave Nick an almost manic grin and darted back under the cover of darkness.
Nick gave chase, wanting to go on the offense. He managed to keep Matthew in sight, darting around trees and jumping over fallen logs. It wasn't long before the darkness swallowed them both.
Nick finally slowed, chest heaving as he looked around for where Matthew might have gone. Realizing that he was feeling a little exposed, Nick darted to one side, pressing his back against the nearest tree.
The silence around him seemed to shift, as if making room for the two hunting Grimms. Nick felt himself turning more towards his instincts, letting them guide him around the danger.
He ducked suddenly, dropping into a crouch just as a long, heavy branch connected with the tree where his head had been. The loud crack! reverberated around the forest, drowning out the racing of Nick's heart thudding in his ears. He somersaulted forward to put some distance between him and Matthew.
Matthew swung the branch again, managing to connect with Nick's legs and sweeping them out from under him. Nick rolled to one side, narrowly avoiding the branch crashing onto the ground.
"Hey!" Nick shouted. "Easy!"
Matthew lifted the branch, bringing it down once more. Nick rolled to the other side and scrambled to his feet.
"Easy?" Matthew echoed derisively. "You think a HundjČger will take it easy? Or a Mauvais Dentes? You think they won't take any slip, any weakness, and use it to kill you?"
He expertly spun the branch like a bo staff, driving the end into Nick's stomach and propelling him back against a tree. Nick barely had time to suck in a breath when Matthew lifted the branch and pressed it against Nick's throat, cutting off his air.
"The wesen are not our friends," Matthew hissed, leaning in close to Nick. "Wesen are animals. They will take every opportunity to kill you. You have to be ready to kill them first."
Nick smacked at the hands pressing the branch against his throat. Spots were beginning to appear before his eyes as he struggled for air.
"Faster. Stronger. Better." Matthew leaned in more, the branch pressing harder. Nick choked, shoving weakly at Matthew. "Show no mercy."
Just as Nick felt consciousness begin to slip away, Matthew suddenly released him and stepped back. Nick collapsed at his feet, choking and gasping as air rushed back into his lungs. His limbs felt like wet noodles; if Matthew decided to finish him off, there was nothing Nick would be able to do to stop him.
The branch suddenly dropped to the ground beside Nick. Hands appeared on his shoulders, and Nick instinctively jerked away, rolling onto his back.
Matthew was kneeling beside him, his hands raised in surrender. "It's okay," he said. "We're done. I'm just helping you up."
Slowly, as if approaching a cornered animal, Matthew reached out and gently grasped Nick by the arms. At his tug, Nick managed to climb to his feet. He winced at the aches and pains that made themselves known but gritted his teeth and forced himself to steady.
"You did a lot better than I expected," Matthew told him. "For someone so late to the game, your instincts are pretty good."
"Not good enough," Nick muttered as they began to head back to where they had parked their cars.
"I've been training for close to thirty years," Matthew pointed out. "You weren't going to beat me."
Nick was using most of his focus on putting one foot in front of the other, but he couldn't help the spark of anger at Matthew.
"In any case, I have a good idea where to start with your training," Matthew continued. "Same time tomorrow night?"
They reached their cars. Nick was grateful that they had taken separate vehicles; he needed time to lick his wounds in private and give some serious thought to what the hell had just happened.
"As long as the case doesn't heat up," Nick answered. He flinched at the pain in his throat.
Matthew nodded, grimacing in commiseration. "You're going to want to ice that before it swells too much more," he advised.
Nick nodded, not wanting to speak more than absolutely necessary.
Matthew slapped Nick on the back, then climbed in his car and pulled away. Nick wrenched his own door open, getting in and practically melting against the seat.
He hurt. His throat hurt inside and out, his left arm and shoulder throbbed, and his legs ached. Though initially excited at the opportunity to train with another Grimm, the only thing Nick felt he had learned was that Matthew was absolutely ruthless.
His phone rang, startling him. Nick bit his lip but couldn't quite contain the whimper at the sharp spike of pain. Digging out his phone, he didn't bother to look at the screen as he answered. "Yeah?"
"Got an answer to your earlier question," came Monroe's voice. "You at home?"
"I will be in about fifteen minutes," Nick replied, turning his engine over. "Make yourself at home."
It was closer to thirty minutes by the time Nick pulled into his driveway. Each bump on the dirt road, each pothole on the road, every single turn of the wheel sent pain radiating through Nick. It was all he could do to drag himself out of his car and up his walking path to his door.
"About time!" greeted Nick as soon as he opened the door.
Nick closed the door and shuffled into the kitchen, not bothering to reply.
"What, no witty comeback?" came Monroe's voice, floating over from the direction of his living room.
Nick made a beeline directly for his refrigerator, opening the freezer door and perusing its contents. Selecting an old bag of peas that had to be more ice than vegetable at this point, Nick closed the freezer door.
Monroe was standing on the other side.
Nick started violently, bag of peas slipping out of his grip and landing on the floor. He immediately groaned, sagging against his counter.
"Dude." Monroe crouched down and grabbed the bag of peas, then rose and held it out to Nick. "What the hell happened to you?"
Nick took the bag, then paused to figure out which part of him needed the icy relief the most.
Monroe rolled his eyes, grabbing the bag of peas back and gently pressing them to Nick's throat. Nick grunted, then practically sagged at the relief.
"I thought I told you to call someone before running into danger," Monroe admonished. Gently taking Nick's right arm, he began to lead the Grimm into the living room.
Nick sank wearily into his armchair and looked up at the Blutbad. "In my defense, I didn't know at the time it was dangerous."
"Given that your measure for danger is on some ridiculous hero scale, I believe you." Monroe sat on the edge of the couch, his eyes running over Nick. "Anything seriously injured?"
Nick moved the bag of peas from his throat to his left shoulder, wincing. "I don't think so. Just bruises and strains."
Monroe didn't look entirely convinced, but he accepted Nick's words at face value nonetheless. "This wasn't another one of your good samaritan Grimm favors, was it?"
Nick leaned back in his chair, his head tipped back slightly. "Not exactly." He swallowed thickly; God his throat hurt. "I, uh, probably should start at the beginning."
Monroe nodded. "That's generally the recommended option."
Nick turned his head slightly to look at Monroe. "I've been working on this case- the one I asked for your help on? Yesterday a couple of US Marshals showed up, claiming they've been tracking the same guy. Turns out one of the Marshals is my brother."
Monroe jerked in shock, his jaw dropping. "What?"
Nick nodded.
"How . . . are you . . ." Monroe shook his head. "You never mentioned a brother." His tone suddenly gentled. "Did he . . . was he in the car with your parents?"
"No," Nick answered. "Apparently, my parents sent him to live with Mom's parents for some reason. Well, according to him, it was for training."
"Training?" Monroe echoed. "Training for what?"
"Training to be a Grimm," Nick stated.
Monroe dragged a hand down his face. Standing, he began pacing the length of the living room. Nick understood his friend's shock, still dealing with his own, and he waited patiently for Monroe to work through it.
"Your parents sent your brother for Grimm training and never bothered to mention it to you?" Monroe asked.
"That's what he tells me," Nick confirmed.
"Did your aunt know?" Monroe continued.
"Apparently."
Monroe paused before Nick, folding his arms. "Why would they tell him about being a Grimm and train him, but keep you in the dark?"
Nick had asked that question himself several times. "I'd like to know that myself."
"How can you be sure he even is your brother?" Monroe pressed. "Do you remember him?"
"No," Nick admitted. "I didn't even know I had a brother. Mom and Dad and Marie were the only family I ever met. I never even met my grandparents."
"So how do you know he's telling you the truth?" Monroe asked.
"Aside from him also being a Grimm?" Nick asked wryly. "He knows things about my parents, and about Marie. And . . . honestly, he looks a lot like how I remember my dad."
Monroe sank back onto the couch. "Dude," he breathed. "What the hell did you do to have such bad karma?"
Nick frowned. "What do you mean?"
"In the last couple of days, you've told me that your boss, the Prince of Portland, ordered the death of your aunt at your aunt's request," Monroe stated. "Then, after trying to transfer, your long lost brother shows up, working on the same case as you." He shook his head at Nick. "Seriously, it might be worth at least burning some sage around here or something."
Nick couldn't help the grin. "'Burning some sage'?" he echoed, amused.
"It couldn't hurt," Monroe pointed out. He gestured at Nick's battered form. "So how does 'I have a brother I never knew about' equate to 'I'm beat all to hell'?"
Just as quickly as it had arrived, Nick's amusement fled. "He found out that I'm new to the whole Grimm thing and offered to help train me. Tonight was our first session."
Monroe blinked. He blinked again.
"'Training session'?" he repeated.
Nick could practically see the storm building in Monroe and tried to head it off before it could gain traction. "Monroe-."
Monroe jumped to his feet. "'Training session'?"
Nick moved to stand, but the sharp protest of his muscles had him falling back against his chair. "Monroe-."
"You look like you just got chewed up and spit out the back of a trash compactor!' Monroe cried, waving his hands about. "What the hell were you being trained for? How to be bait?"
"It's not that bad," Nick insisted, shoving back the pain and rising to his feet.
"You're not standing where I am," Monroe growled. "Sit back down before you hurt yourself."
Nick wanted to protest, but the thought of relaxing on a soft surface was too tempting to pass up. Wearily, he sank back down.
Monroe sighed, slightly mollified by Nick's acquiescence. "Seriously though, Nick. You didn't look this bad after the Reapers, and you're a half step up from your fight with the Siegbarste. And you're telling me that your brother did this to you? Was he trying to kill you?"
Nick winced. "It looks bad, I know. But who am I to say his training methods are wrong? I have no frame of reference to compare, and he's been living this life for years."
Monroe sat back down. "He might have the experience, but that doesn't mean he's right. Have you even thought about how you're going to handle going to work tomorrow?"
Nick waved a dismissive hand. "I'll be fine."
Monroe was unimpressed. "Right."
Nick decided that a change in subject was in order. "You said you found something at the garage?"
Monroe saw right through his tactic, but he allowed the shift in conversation. "Yeah, you were spot on. The garage is run entirely by Eisbibers; a different pack from the one you know, apparently. Your victim was one, too."
Nick nodded almost to himself. "So the killer is targeting wesen. No wonder nobody could find a connection among the victims."
"Nick." Monroe shifted nervously in his seat. "You didn't mention to me how that guy died."
Nick frowned. "Does that matter?"
"Not usually, no," Monroe admitted. "But one of Woods' buddies happened to mention it."
Nick could tell that Monroe was genuinely disturbed by whatever Woods' friend had told him. He felt anxiety begin to curl in his gut.
"You should have mentioned you were working on a case dealing with the Huntsman," Monroe stated.
It was Nick's turn to be confused. "The who?"
The play of emotions across Monroe's face would have been amusing if not for the seriousness of the conversation. He started with shock and disbelief, shifted into exasperation, then settled into resignation.
"The Huntsman?" Monroe said again, as if hearing the name a second time would magically cause the information behind it to appear in Nick's brain.
"You said that," Nick told him, "Who is that?"
Monroe threw his hands up. "Only the most prolific killer in modern history?"
Nick frowned. "I've never heard of him."
"The Huntsman exclusively targets wesen," Monroe explained. "No one knows how he chooses his victims, just that if you cross his path, you could be next. Man, woman, child, predator, prey . . . none of it matters. If you're wesen, you're dead."
"Who is this guy?" Nick asked.
"Nobody knows," Monroe answered. "Anyone who might identify him always winds up dead. The only thing for sure that anybody knows is his calling card. His victims left sitting with their severed heads in their laps."
"Where did he come from?" Nick asked, eager for the first real lead on what had been rapidly becoming a stalled case. "How long has this 'Huntsman' been killing wesen?"
Monroe shrugged and shook his head. "Years? Maybe? I mean, I heard stories when I was a kid, and my grandfather said he was around when he was a kid."
"That can't be right," Nick replied.
Monroe held up his hands. "Just telling you want I know, man."
"If the Huntsman's been around that long, surely someone knows something about who he is," Nick insisted.
"Well, there's rumors, of course, but it's more myth and legend than fact," Monroe admitted.
"It's more than I had ten minutes ago." Nick shifted in his seat, grunting lightly. "Besides, don't myths and legends start with the truth?"
"This kind of truth I could do without," Monroe stated. "Fine. The story my granddad told me starts a hundred or so years ago. The Royal Family- I don't know which one- wanted to rebuild a massive wesen army to try and conquer the surrounding lands. The wesen refused to obey; army conscription went out with the Crusades. No one wanted to bring that back."
"Sounds fair," Nick said.
"The Royal Family disagreed with you," Monroe replied. "After some major offense by a group of wesen- and I mean whatever they did caused an unbelievable embarrassment and insult to the Family- the Family found a man who they hired to go out and kill everyone in the group."
"Did he do it?" Nick asked.
Monroe nodded gravely. "Not only did he track down every member of the group, he hunted down and killed all their friends and family. It was one of the worst massacres in wesen history."
"If this happened so long ago, and they killed everyone involved, why would the Huntsman keep killing?" Nick asked.
"I don't know, man," Monroe said. "No one does, really, but something like this? Killing that many men, women, and children? That has to change you. Right?" Monroe shook his head. "Maybe he snapped, doing so many evil things. Maybe he got a taste for murder. No one knows why, but the Huntsman is every bit as terrifying as a Grimm."
Nick raised an eyebrow.
"As a Grimm from our stories," Monroe amended. "You know what I mean." His eyes widened. "Oh my God, the Huntsman's in Portland! Does the Prince know? Did you tell him yet?"
"Monroe, I learned about it barely thirty seconds ago," Nick said. "When would I have told him?"
"People need to know!" Monroe insisted. "They're all sitting ducks right now!"
"I will make sure to speak to him first thing tomorrow morning," Nick promised.
"No!" Monroe's vehemence startled Nick. "You have to tell him now!"
Monroe was so earnest that Nick found himself pulling out his phone before his brain had engaged. At Monroe's insistent nod, Nick unlocked his phone and searched through his contacts. Pulling up Renard's number, he initiated the call.
Renard picked up by the second ring. With one more glance at Monroe's worried expression, Nick spoke.
"Sir, I'm sorry for calling so late," he said. "We have a problem."
A heavy silence saturated the air in Nick's living room. The news of a notorious serial killer that had stalked wesen for decades had been received better than Nick expected, all things considered.
Nick was sitting in his easy chair, bullied there by Monroe who had almost unconsciously slipped into his mother hen mode. It had felt awkward reporting to his captain from a seated position, but between Monroe's fussing and Renard's warning look Nick stayed put.
Frank Rabe had arrived with Renard, the two having been together discussing other matters when Nick had called. The realization that not only was the Huntsman in Portland but had been close to his son had caused the color to drain from his face. He was seated on the couch, one hand over his mouth in horror.
Renard had moved to the window and was staring out into the darkness. His expression was unreadable, even to Nick's sharp eyes. He hadn't said a word since Nick had shared the news.
Monroe was standing beside Nick's chair, head swiveling between Frank, Nick, and Renard. He had been somewhat on edge to be in the presence of Portland's Prince, but to his credit he hadn't flinched from Renard's assessing look.
Frank dropped his hand and straightened his spine, drawing Nick's and Monroe's attention. "We need to call the council to full assembly," he stated. "Tonight."
Renard continued to stare out the window, deep in thought.
"What will that do?" Nick asked.
"It's the fastest way to warn the community," Frank answered. "We can also mobilize our wesen first responders as an extra set of eyes for the more vulnerable members of our community."
Monroe was nodding along with the explanation, approval in his eyes. "Maybe you could establish safe havens around the city or something," he suggested. "Places people can go in case they think someone might be following them or something."
Frank looked at Monroe in surprise. "That's a good idea," he said.
Monroe shrugged off the compliment, but Nick noticed him standing a little taller.
"The question remains," Renard suddenly stated, turning from the window. The other three turned their attention to him. "Who sent him?"
Nick frowned in confusion. "What makes you think somebody sent him? How do you know he's not just acting on his own?"
"The evidence," Renard stated. He moved away from the window, standing near Frank. "I took the liberty of looking over the evidence that the Marshals added to your evidence wall in the conference room. Those murders were committed sporadically in various cities and with no discernible pattern. The murders in Portland were committed consistently within a protectorate. My protectorate."
"You think someone's trying to undermine your authority here?" Monroe asked.
"Who would do that?" Nick added.
Frank cut his gaze sharply to Renard, but Renard didn't react to the question.
"There are . . . several potential suspects," the police captain admitted. "I'd rather not speculate at this time."
"Whoever it is must really be feeling threatened if they sent the Huntsman here," Monroe commented.
Nick's mind was whirring, putting the disparate clues together and forming his own conclusions. He looked at Renard. "Someone else wants to claim Portland?" he asked. "Another Royal?"
Frank and Monroe looked at him with varying degrees of surprise at the conclusion. A genuine smile grew on Renard's lips.
"It's more likely that they would rather . . . remove me and disband my council, but it does seem that way," he said.
"How did you come to that conclusion?" Frank asked.
Nick gestured at Monroe. "Monroe said it was the Royals who originally hired the Huntsman," he explained. "If that's the case, it stands to reason that they are the most likely ones with the means and ability to do so again." He turned back to Renard. "What I don't understand is, what do they care what you're doing here in Portland? Unless you're building some kind of army and plan to declare war on them, what's the harm?"
Monroe had his usual long-suffering look on his face when Nick revealed the depths of his ignorance regarding wesen life. Frank's expression showed a man carefully selecting his words. Renard's amusement still showed on his face, but Nick could see it was more fond than it was disdainful.
"It's . . . a little more complicated than that," Frank told him.
Nick fought back an eye roll, but only just. "It usually is," he replied. "But since we're short on time, could someone give me the abridged version?"
Frank glanced at Renard, who nodded.
"In a nutshell, the Prince is not exactly . . . popular with most of the Royal Families, including his own," Frank told Nick. "For a number of reasons. But the one that is likely the reason the rest are so uneasy is that he has begun to drum up quite a lot of following and support among the wesen and the Resistance."
"Resistance?" Nick asked.
"A group working towards the ultimate goal of deposing the Royals once and for all," Renard explained succinctly.
"But . . . wouldn't that include you?" Nick asked.
"I'm in a sort of gray area," Renard hedged. "But I've worked hard to establish Portland as a secure canton for wesen, which in turn has drawn more wesen here. We're not a threat to the Families yet, but they've definitely begun to take notice. Particularly with the arrival of a new Grimm who chooses not to kill wesen indiscriminately."
"And they decided to start with the most terrifying serial killer in wesen history?" Monroe blurted out, incredulous.
Renard looked over at him. "Not . . . exactly."
"What?" Nick asked. "What does that mean?"
Renard's gaze turned back to the young Grimm. "I received a few phone calls warning me to deal with the Grimm in my territory. Reapers were sent to Portland to force the issue."
"I never knew that," Nick stated quietly.
Something in Renard's determined green eyes softened at the admission. "I handled it. You didn't need to deal with that while still figuring out your inheritance."
A war was being waged within Nick. One part of him raged against being kept in the dark yet again, but another piece felt relieved at not having to handle yet another problem while he was still working through what it meant to be a Grimm.
"Your aunt had been wise to ensure that you settled here," Frank added gently.
Nick's eyes zeroed in on Frank. "What do you mean by that?"
"We're wandering from the topic," Renard cut in. He glanced at Frank. "Call the council. We convene in one hour. Get Adalind up as well; I want her and her sisters to run a quick search around town for unusual activity, then I want her to report to me after we're done with the council."
Frank nodded and stood, phone already out and dialing. Nick watched him stride to the front door and outside, then turned his attention back to Renard.
Renard was giving him a scrutinizing look. "Is there anything else I need to know? Particularly in regards to why you look as though someone tried to remove your head?"
Nick didn't have to look at Monroe to know the exact look that had appeared on the Blutbad's face. "It's the result of an unrelated incident, sir."
Renard held his gaze, his expression revealing nothing, though Nick sensed with every fiber of his being that his captain didn't believe him.
"Am I correct in assuming that you still plan to report in for work tomorrow morning?" Renard finally asked.
Nick gave him a cheeky grin. "Of course," he replied, his tone overly bright. "What wouldn't I?"
Exasperation flickered in Renard's eyes, and he shifted his gaze to Monroe. "Look after him."
Nick's grin dropped into a scowl. "Hey!"
He expected Monroe to join him in protest and was stunned when his friend merely nodded. "Sire."
Renard nodded back, gave Nick a stern look that the Grimm was fairly certain was undeserved, then left to join Frank. Nick turned his glower towards Monroe.
"I don't need a babysitter," he complained.
Monroe rolled his eyes. "No. Actually, you need a team of them, and your boss clearly agrees."
Nick folded his arms and slouched back against his seat.
Monroe gently nudged his shoulder. "Come on," he said. "Let's get you cleaned up. I bet some painkillers and more ice sounds really good right about now."
Nick really didn't want to admit it, but he couldn't help agreeing with Monroe. With the Blutbad's help, he managed to rise to his feet.
"And then maybe we can figure out a reasonable training regimen that won't leave you as useless as roadkill," Monroe continued.
The bickering was warm and familiar, and Nick fell into it like an old habit, willingly allowing it to distract him from his aches and pains as he was helped up the stairs.
Morning came far too early.
Nick was tempted to just throw his covers over his head and call in sick, but he knew there was no way he was going to be able to sit aside while a killer hunted down people he had sworn to protect.
As he dragged himself out of bed to prepare for the day, he told himself that at least his aches had eased into a more familiar soreness. His throat was still raw, and speaking still caused him pain, but Nick figured he could manage.
Showered and dressed, Nick was just descending the stairs when he heard someone knock solidly on his front door. Frowning at who might be visiting him this early in the morning, Nick moved to his door and opened it.
Matthew stood on his doorstep, holding two cups from a nearby coffee shop. He held one cup out towards Nick.
"Good morning," he greeted. "I wanted to see how you were feeling this morning."
Nick unconsciously took the cup and stepped aside as Matthew moved into the house.
Matthew turned to face him, a sort of sheepish smile on his face. "I remember the start of my training, and how hard it was. I, er . . . I hope I didn't let my enthusiasm take away your desire to train with me. If you're still interested, I'd like to try again.
Nick fiddled with the coffee cup in his hand. "I'd still like to learn what you have to teach me," he finally said. "But maybe after a couple days, when I can actually give you a challenge."
Matthew grinned at him, then gestured at Nick's coffee with his own. "I didn't poison it, you know."
Nick smirked and took a sip. "Thanks."
As far as apologies went, it wasn't the best, but Nick accepted it for what it was. He was about to ask if there had been any new developments in the case when his phone began ringing. Expecting the caller to be Hank, or even Monroe, Nick's eyebrows flew up when he saw Bud's name on the screen. He answered it, nerves beginning to claw in his gut. "Bud? Everything okay?"
"Nick! Oh my God!" Bud's panicked voice was loud enough to reach even Matthew's ears, who straightened in concern.
"Bud!" Nick said sharply, knowing his tone would jar the overexcitable Eisbiber into actual conversation. "What's wrong?"
"Oh my God, Nick!" Bud cried. "They're back, but there's more of them and they won't leave! They're trashing the whole place! My cousin's trapped in the office with her friends! You have to help her!"
"On our way." Nick ended the call and looked at Matthew. "Feel like scaring off some teenage troublemakers?"
Matthew grinned in anticipation. "Lead the way."
Adrenaline flooded Nick's body as he grabbed his keys and ran out the door, his brother close behind. The aches and pains from the night before had been given a reprieve, allowing Nick to focus his full attention on the upcoming battle.
His car screeched to a halt near the garage where Bud's cousin worked. Matthew pulled up behind him as Nick climbed out, eyes following the sound of breaking glass and splintering wood.
"I'm surprised no one's called the cops yet," Matthew commented, moving to stand beside Nick.
Cries and shouts drifted on the air towards them. Nick's eyes glinted dangerously.
"They're probably on their way by now," he told Matthew. "How about we get a head start?"
The two Grimms trotted to the garage, slowing as they approached the doors and cautiously peering inside. Matthew cut past the door nearest them and leaned around the wall separating the first and second car stalls.
"I've got four near the lobby," Nick said lowly, watching as four young men threw tools and tires aside, laughing raucously.
"Five over here," Matthew added. "And two more banging on the office door."
Nick pulled out his gun and held it low. "On three?"
Matthew mirrored the move and nodded. "One."
"Two." Nick straightened. "Three!"
Swinging around, Nick and Matthew stepped into the garage in unison, weapons aimed at the vandals.
"Police!" Nick bellowed. "Stop right there and put your hands behind your head!"
The vandals turned towards the newcomers, pausing their actions in surprise. Several exchanged looks as if checking to see what their friends were doing.
One man took a threatening step forward, but Matthew shifted his gun in the man's direction.
"Don't even think about it," he growled.
The man's features twisted and rippled into those of a Skalengeck. As though caught in a riptide, the rest of the vandals' true forms were laid bare before the Grimms' eyes. Nick counted six Skalengecks in the group along with three Lausenschlanges and two Blutbaden.
One of the Lausenschlanges in front of Nick hissed in surprise. "Grimm!"
"Two of them," a Skalengeck added, eyeing Matthew up.
"He never said anything about two Grimms," the Lausenschlange stated.
"Who cares?" growled a Blutbad, eyes glowing red. "Let's kill them both."
Nick cocked the hammer of his gun. "Get down on your knees," he ordered.
The Blutbad snarled, starting to shift into a full woge. He took a step towards Nick but froze when a bullet punched the floor mere centimeters from his foot. The Blutbad stumbled back, head swinging towards Matthew.
Matthew smirked darkly at him. "We're giving you the option of giving in with your limbs intact," he pointed out. "If you want us to handle you the Grimm way, well, we can do that instead. But I guarantee you won't like it."
Several of the wesen, the Blutbad included, looked tempted at trying their luck anyway. The Skalengeck closest to Matthew tried, darting forward toward Matthew.
Without lowering his gun even an inch, Matthew jammed his left elbow solidly in the Skalengeck's throat. The Skalengeck dropped to the ground, gasping and choking as he clutched at his throat. The other wesen traded uncertain looks with each other.
"Anyone else?" Matthew taunted.
Sirens filled the air, quickly growing louder. Realizing that they were rapidly running out of opportunities, the wesen began dropping to their knees, lacing their hands behind their heads.
Nick and Matthew kept their weapons trained on the wesen as a squad car pulled up, lights flashing. A second car arrived moments later, uniformed officers emerging and moving to handcuff the prisoners.
Nick holstered his gun and walked towards the office. He knocked on the door, tilting his head to listen for movement inside.
"Charity?" he called. "It's Nick. You can come out now."
The door slowly inched open, then swung wide. Nick suddenly found himself with his arms full of a relieved Eisbiber.
"Thank you!" the petite woman gushed, hugging Nick tightly. "I was so scared!"
"Charity!"
Bud's worried voice pulled Charity away from Nick. She turned to face her cousin as the stout man raced forward and wrapped her in a hug.
Matthew moved to stand beside Nick, eyes taking note of the tearful Eisbibers. "Interesting friends you have, Nick."
A commotion among the prisoners cut off any reply Nick was about to make. Nick and Matthew turned in time to see one of the Blutbaden snarling and snapping at one of the uniformed officers. It took Nick a full minute to recognize the officer as none other than Sergeant Arnold.
"Keep your mouth shut!" Arnold snapped at the Blutbad.
"Fucking pig!" the Blutbad spat. "If I'd known you were the one behind the challenge . . ."
"That's enough!" Arnold followed up the yell with a smack upside the Blutbad's head. He shoved the cuffed wesen at another officer. "Get him out of here!"
"Hang on!" Matthew jogged over to the Blutbad, halting the officer before he could put the wesen in the squad car. He turned the Blutbad to face him. "What did you say?"
The Blutbad snarled and spat at Matthew, who dodged just in time. Matthew crowded into the Blutbad's space, eyes drilling into the wesen's.
"Try that again and you'll lose your tongue," he threatened in a low tone.
Nick moved forward, placing one hand on Matthew's arm in warning.
Matthew ignored him. "What challenge?" he demanded.
"Go fuck yourself!" the Blutbad snapped.
Matthew's arm tensed under Nick's grip, and Nick firmly tugged him back. "Go ahead," he told the uniformed officer before leading his brother away.
Matthew shook off Nick's grip but grudgingly followed him back to their cars.
"Have you heard about a challenge?" he demanded.
"I heard about one a few days ago," Nick answered. "A friend of mine- his son heard about a challenge to take out the Grimm. Honestly, I forgot all about it. Nothing ever came of it anyway."
Matthew frowned at him. "You're serious."
Nick's eyebrows drew together. "What?"
Matthew stared at him, then shook his head. "Nick . . . what the hell do you call that brawl in the precinct on the day we met?"
Nick blinked at him, nonplussed.
"Unbelievable." Matthew rolled his eyes. "Walking around with a giant target painted on your back and you're oblivious as ever."
Nick folded his arms. "Do you honestly believe that challenge has made my life any different than usual?"
Matthew froze, then snorted. "Fair point." He glanced at his watch. "How about I pick us up some coffees on our way into the office?"
Nick raised an eyebrow. "More coffee? Something I should worry about?"
Matthew smirked. "Just my partner when he finds out I got involved in another bust without him. If I bring him coffee, he'll still be pissed, but it's more like annoyance than full-on outrage."
"Then by all means." Nick grinned. "I'll see you at the office.
Matthew tossed off a salute as he jogged to his car.
