Mia leaned her head back against the tree trunk, resting an arm on her knee as her other leg dangled from the edge of the tree limb. She took a drag of her cigarette as she stared at the mid-day sunlight bathing Portland. As a girl, she'd thought that her mother was pretending to be a Dragon whenever she smoked.
That was before she knew what she and her mother really were.
"Mia?" Thomas called from below. She looked down at him, noting the hands stuffed in his jean pockets and the somber expression. "It's time."
Mia sighed. No matter how much she wished it were not so, today was real. She couldn't believe it had already been a year; it only seemed like yesterday that she'd gotten the news. Mia could remember seeing her mother's face, how still it was, and the sorrow the others wore openly on theirs. Mia took another drag of her cigarette, then pinched the tip of the butt between her fingers, putting it out. She then leaped down to the ground, landing with the grace of a master dancer.
She shivered, adjusting her yellow scarf. Her black leather jacket kept her warm enough, but the chill she felt was likely a reaction to the anniversary.
Thomas walked with her to the gravesite. Everyone else was gathered there: Hilary, Sam, Mike, Charles, everyone who had worked at the paper mill. Mia's family had run it for generations, and the kind of loyalty that earned from the former workers could never be bought. They all smiled as they parted for her, and she smiled in return. Mia was grateful for their presence and support.
She might not have been able to function without them.
The gravestone was just as she remembered: smooth and glistening on the front, the year-old stone still quite strong. The name Melissa Wincroft was written across the top. Below that was written Beloved entrepreneur and mother. May her memory inspire others.
Mia felt the tears come sooner than she'd thought. She wiped them away with the back of her hand. After all, mother would want her to be strong.
She turned to face the small crowd. "Thank you all for coming. My mother, she was…well, she was important to all of us, wasn't she?"
Everyone nodded.
"I never expected to take her place so soon. She prepared me my whole life, but I realized this past year that I secretly hoped I never would. I never wanted her to leave. She was…my whole world: my teacher, my protector, and my guide. But I wasn't the only one. After all, she was all those things to all of us. We lost our leader, our queen." Charles handed her a bouquet of yellow flowers. Mia took them and, turning to face the grave, knelt before her mother's remains. She placed the flowers against it, letting the tears run down her face.
Hilary knelt beside her, dabbing her cheeks with a napkin.
"I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you when it mattered, mom. I'm sorry you died." Mia reached into her back pocket and took out the crumpled newspaper article she'd read each day for the past year. She unfolded it, revealing the familiar title: 'Former Business Owner Shot by Portland Detective'. The picture showed two men, and the one on the left's face had been circled with a black sharpie. Mia's eyes scanned the article's contents, focusing on the name of the detective.
Nicholas Burkhardt.
"I'm going to make this right, mom," Mia said, looking back at the grave. "I'm going to kill the Grimm that shot you. He's going to regret crossing us."
Overtaken by the emotion of the occasion, Mia Woged. She developed glimmering blue compound eyes, and two long antennae sprouted from her forehead. The others Woged, as well, the men sprouting articulated mandibles in addition to compound eyes. Mia looked up at the cloud of bees that she'd inadvertently summoned hovering above them.
The Grimm would come to know the sting of the swarm before long.
Hank was taking everything surprisingly well. Nick had finally told him about the existence of Wesen while they were dealing with the gang of Coyotl. For weeks, his partner had agonized under the idea that he'd been going crazy, seeing things that weren't there and shooting at shadows. Now, he seemed more at peace, knowing that there was more to the world and that he hadn't imagined any of it. There was still a lot to catch him up on, but he was handling the information better than expected.
Nick snorted at the thought. Before his Aunt Marie had come to visit, he'd known absolutely nothing about Wesen or about being a Grimm. Monroe, and his family's ancestral books in the trailer, were his main source of information on Wesen. There were still things that he didn't fully understand.
Such as Jacob Carter and Louise Sauvageon.
The fight between them and him and his mother vividly played in his mind; the married couple were two of the fiercest Wesen he'd fought thus far, but the most unusual part of their relationship was that they were two wildly different species, something that Nick hadn't seen so far.
Wanting some answers, he drove to the Spice Shop.
It was still the same: shelves and shelves filled with ingredients ranging from the mundane to the exceedingly strange. Any number of them had differing effects on humans and Wesen, and he'd seen enough potions and concoctions prepared here to know that any number of combinations could produce whatever he or his friends needed for a case.
Monroe was behind the counter, glasses on, looking over the books. Rosalee was in the side room, sweeping up broken glass from the window she'd jumped through. The Fuchsbau had escaped while under the influence of the 'Yellow Plague' that only affected Wesen, and Nick had had to knock her unconscious to bring her back for treatment.
"Hey, Nick," Monroe greeted, looking past the rims of his glasses.
"Hey," he said. Looking over at Rosalee, he asked "How are you feeling?"
"Much better now," she replied with a smile. "I'm just glad I didn't do any more damage to the shop. I was…pretty out of it there."
Nick smirked. "Yes, you were."
"So, what do you need?" Monroe asked. "Is it pustule or lesion-related? Because we just got a fresh delivery of some ground—"
"No, thank you," Nick said, holding up a hand to stop the Blutbad from finishing that sentence. "I actually had some questions I was hoping the two of you could answer."
Rosalee set her broom aside and joined them by the counter. Crossing her arms, she said "Sure. What is it you want to know?"
"How often do Wesen of different species marry?"
Monroe and Rosalee shared a glance. The latter replied "It's…not really that common. Most Wesen stick to their traditions, some of them centuries or even millennia old. Marrying outside your breed is considered taboo for most. It's backward and stifling, if you ask me, but it's how things have been done."
"Now a marriage between a Wesen and a Kehrseite-Schlich-Kennen?" Monroe asked. "That's been known to happen on occasion. But two different kinds of Wesen? In that situation, both parties are seen to be 'betraying' their own kind."
Nick nodded. "So, technically, you two would be seen the same way?"
"I guess. But I like to think we live in enlightened times."
"Why do you ask?" Rosalee asked.
"Well, I was thinking about a case from a few weeks back. Do you remember when I told you about those four brothers who were killed?"
"The Schakals? Can't say I shed a tear over them," Monroe said.
"Yeah, them. Anyway, I found the person responsible, a Mauvais Dentes. My mother and I went to confront her and her husband, but when we started fighting, the husband turned out to be something different."
"Do you know what he was?" Monroe asked, taking off his glasses.
"I'm not sure, exactly. He looked a lot like a Löwen, except he had a big scorpion tail. That was what surprised me the most; they were two different species, and so far, I haven't seen that in Wesen couples. Apart from you guys, obviously."
"Hm," Rosalee said. "A Mauvais Dentes and whatever you're describing…Do you remember their names?"
"Jacob Carter and Louise Sauvageon."
Monroe and Rosalee's mouths fell open, and their eyes widened as if seeing a ghost.
"What?" Nick asked, confused.
Monroe turned to look at Rosalee and said "You don't think…?"
"No, it can't be them! Although…"
"There's an 'although'?"
The Fuchsbau shrugged. "It's possible it is them. I mean, all the stories say they only live in any given place for a short time before they move on."
"Okay, could someone tell me what's going on?" Nick asked.
Monroe opened his mouth, hesitated, then said "You know what? It's probably nothing. Forget we said anything; it's probably not even the people we're thinking about, so we shouldn't give you the wrong idea about what I assume to be a perfectly nice couple…one of whom is, without a doubt, one of the most vicious predators in the Wesen world."
Nick blinked a few times, then looked at Rosalee, who gave him a smile. "If you say so. Thanks for the help; I'll see you around." He left the Spice Shop with more questions than answers, but figured they weren't all that important right now.
Just as he stepped out onto the sidewalk, a woman shoved past him. Nick frowned, but she kept walking. He turned to resume walking back to his car, but paused as he felt something in his hand. It was a crumpled piece of yellow paper. When he unfurled it, there was a single word in black marker:
MURDERER.
Nick looked back at the woman, and as if she sensed it, she turned her head to look at him. Her lips were curled in a sneer, and her piercing blue eyes seemed to bore into his skull.
Nick started walking after her. Obviously, she had some sort of issue with him, and he wanted to know what that was. Given his profession, she probably had a relative or a friend that he'd killed. She had a head-start, so he had to hurry to catch up. When he seemed to get close, the front door of the bar just down the street from the Spice Shop opened. At least a dozen people poured out, laughing and chatting away. Nick gently shoved his way through, but the group was too thick.
By the time he got through, the woman was gone. Nick looked around the intersection, but there was nothing. He frowned, looking back at the note. Every instinct he had told him trouble was on the horizon.
Many years ago…
"No, really, she did!" Eric said, laughing. The prince reclined in his plush, crimson chair, one of several such pieces of furniture in the room. Jacob stood behind him, hands clasped as he remained silent. He gazed around the room, marveling at the grandeur of it all. Though Eric was in Paris to study, he lived in an estate his family owned in the city.
Owning far too many properties abroad was a distinct problem for the Royals.
"You can't be serious," one of the other teenagers said. He was taller than Eric, and while he was thin he was more muscular. His features were rough, compared to the crown prince, but still regal and dignified. Despite that, Jacob sensed an air of danger from him, as well as a touch of aggressive arrogance.
"Oh Kenneth, I'm always serious," Eric said sardonically. "So there we were: I offered to buy her a vacation to Greece for a year, and she slaps me! In the middle of the study hall, no less! Can you believe that?"
"Of course we can," the third teenager said. Compared to the other two, he was rather plain and unassuming. For some reason, Jacob found that aspect to be the most intimidating. "You've always had a weakness for a pretty face, Eric. One day it's going to get you into trouble."
Eric merely gave him a smirk as he took a sip of his mineral water. "You're only saying that because the girls never pay any attention to you, Viktor. Don't bother denying it; we all know it's true."
Viktor sighed, and Kenneth said "Alright, let's say this did happen. What did you do next?"
"I had Jacob throw her out onto the street, of course," Eric replied.
Jacob felt two pairs of eyes on him.
"Him?" Viktor asked, pointing at Jacob. "He hardly looks like the type to carry your books."
"Oh, I have him do that, too. Go on, Jacob. Show my cousins what you can do."
Jacob, as he did a thousand times in the last five months, thought of giving a snide remark, or simply denying Eric's order. But he knew that was impossible. Eric was the crown prince of the Kronenberg family; his word was law, and any defiance was punishable by death. Given his circumstances, Jacob almost wanted to embrace that fate, but he desperately wanted to live so as to talk with Louise again.
He'd thought about her more and more ever since they first met. She was the bright spot that lit the darkness, especially when his father beat him or subjected him to fight after fight. Or in times such as this, when Eric forced indignity after indignity on him.
So, he obeyed.
Jacob dipped his head, Woging into his true form. Kenneth leaned forward, a predatory gleam in his eyes, while Viktor seemed content to watch with a neutral expression.
Eric chuckled, taking another sip. "See? With him at my side, I don't have to worry about anything. It's exceedingly rare to have a Manticore in such a role, but it is a beautiful thing, is it not?"
Kenneth stood and walked over to Jacob, his arrogant smirk concealing whatever fear he might have held. "I think I could take him."
Jacob seriously doubted that.
"I'd be very interested to see that," Viktor said.
Eric clapped his hands. "That settles it, then! We'll cap off the evening with a little show."
Before Jacob had the chance to say anything, Kenneth punched him in the face. For a Kehrseite, the blow was surprisingly powerful, but not nearly as powerful as a Hundjäger's or his father's. A year of training told Jacob to strike back, to punch the arrogant prince across the room, pin him to the floor, and jab his stinger into his chest. But as much as he might want that, he could never do it.
Kenneth was a member of the Royal Family. While belonging to a branch and not the main line, he was still a prince. To strike him, even in a fight that he started, would mean certain death.
So, Jacob held back.
He only offered the barest defense against Kenneth's attacks, and it was handily broken. The punches came, one after the other, and though individually they hardly affected him, all together they began to add up. Every part of Jacob's body pulsed with pain as a new blow landed, and he was bleeding from a trio of cuts on his face.
Eventually, Kenneth backed him against a wall, hammering both fists into his face before tripping him. Jacob fell to the floor, too sore to do anything except stay down.
"Not so tough," Kenneth said, laughing as he stepped back.
Eric clapped, also laughing. "Well done, cousin. Well done! That was quite a showing. Come on, Jacob, get up. You're still on duty until we return to Vienna." The crown prince tossed a napkin onto his face, then sat back down. Jacob, Woging back into human form, groaned as he stood up.
Present Day…
Jacob ran a hand over his hair, ensuring that there were no rogue strands. It wouldn't do to appear slovenly, not on such an important task as this. He'd already spent more than he should have on a nice suit. Before now all that was required of him was data entry and training sessions, but tonight would be his first real test.
"Nervous?" Jim asked from the driver's seat, a smirk on his face.
"Just making sure I give the right impression."
"Well, a good impression is important," Jim agreed, "but your job's mostly about function. At the end of the day, it's what you can do that matters rather than how you look."
"I wanted to thank you for putting my name forward. You've put a lot of confidence in me."
"Hey, you're the most well-trained employee I have. You're strong and you're smart, even for one of us. Our clients expect the best, and that's what we provide. A word of warning, though; Mr. Nidaria's a Löwen, and he can be a bit…temperamental."
As they spoke, the woman on the radio said "…should be expecting an update sometime tomorrow. And in other news, the search continues for Daniella Sutton, the daughter of Councilman Julius Sutton. The Councilman's daughter was abducted from their home late on Saturday. As of yet, Portland Police have not located young Daniella. The Councilman has offered a $50,000 reward for any information leading to her safe return."
Jim shut the radio off, leaving him and Jacob to think in silence the rest of the way.
They eventually pulled up to the client's driveway. 'Mansion' was the only possible descriptor for the residence, which was decorated with glimmering, Greek-style, columns, while a majestic fountain, carved in the likeness of a pair of lions, dominated the circular driveway. Jacob saw the hints of a pristine garden in the back. Two company cars were already parked off to the side, and when Jacob and Jim entered the mansion, they saw the company employees installing various alarm panels and security cameras around the expansive foyer.
"Bout time you got here!" one of them called from atop a step ladder. He finished wiring a camera, then climbed down and walked over. "We're just about done here, but this guy's been yelling at us for the last hour and a half, and right now I just want a drink. Or ten."
Jim snorted. "Jacob, this is Ron Hurd, one of our Senior Sales Associates."
Jacob shook Ron's hand, and the latter said "I saw you training with Polonsky yesterday. I gotta say, you seem tough as a rhino."
"Thank you. I've worked hard to become so," Jacob replied.
"Finally!" someone boomed from above. The three men looked up to see a man dressed in a sweater and black pants descending the grand staircase. His face was contorted in an expression of extreme annoyance, and he seemed to growl as he approached. "I was beginning to think that you people would never fulfill your promises."
Jim put on an affable smile. "There's nothing to worry about, sir. You paid for the best, and you're getting the best. We've finished installing the alarm system, so your home is now secure. We'll post guards inside and outside your residence, and my associate here will be at your side 24/7."
The man looked Jacob over. He snorted, then said "If you want to earn your pay, you will ensure that no harm comes to me. If not, then I promise that all of you will pay."
While Ron quietly extricated himself from the conversation, Jacob maintained an outward calm. "There's nothing to worry about, Mr. Nidaria. As long as I am here, you will be safe."
"That'd better be!" he barked. His emotional state caused him to Woge, revealing his lion-like visage. It retracted a few moments later.
Nidaria turned and walked back up the stairs. Jim looked at Jacob and said "Look, this'll only be for a few weeks. The guy's got some sort of big deal that's closing soon, and he wants to feel protected until that's done. Just tough it out, and you'll make a big fat paycheck. How's that sound?"
Jacob nodded. "Alright."
Of all the hardships in his life, being hunted by nearly every Wesen alive and all the dangers of being on the run with Louise, guarding Don Nidaria was one of the most difficult. The Löwen was a domineering, prickly bombast with no regard for others besides what they did for him. Most of the time he seemed to go out of his way to point out all the mistakes his security detail were making. And since it was his job to be joined at the hip with the man, Jacob was forced to hear all of it.
"I can't believe this," Nidaria muttered as he got dressed. Jacob stood just beside the door, hands crossed as he watched the man putting on his suit. "I've been wanting to make this deal for months. I can't afford you lot to be mucking it all up for me now." It was dark outside, with only the faintest hints of light streaming in from street lights and the moon.
Taking a deep breath before he spoke, Jacob said "That's exactly why you hired us, Mr. Nidaria: to ensure that your deal will proceed unhindered."
"Well right now, all you are is a waste of money."
You're doing this for the money, Jacob thought. You're doing this for the money.
Jacob's ear-piece crackled, and he touched a finger to it as one of the guards on the mansion grounds said "This is Jensen. I thought I heard something."
"What was it?" Jacob asked.
"I don't know. I'll check it out."
"Alright. Keep me apprised."
Nidaria paused as he wrapped his tie around his collar. "What's wrong? There's something wrong, isn't there? Damn it all, I knew this would happen!"
"Please remain calm, sir," Jacob told him. "I'm sure it's nothing." A few minutes later, he tapped his ear-piece and said "Jensen, come in. What did you find?"
Silence.
"Jensen, come in."
More silence.
"Everyone check in. Has anyone seen Jensen?"
He received a chorus of 'negatives' from most of the guards. "This is Michaels, I haven't seen Jensen. I was just…What was that?"
"What's going on?" Jacob asked, his pulse quickening as his instincts told him danger was creeping towards him.
"Almost sounded like glass breaking. Wait, what is that? Who are—"
Jacob winced as his ear-piece shrieked with the high pitch of audio feedback, and he pulled it out. Something was definitely afoot, and he needed to deal with it before the problem escalated any further. "What's wrong?" Nidaria asked. "Someone's come to kill me, haven't they? I knew this would happen! You have to protect me! That's your job, to keep me safe!"
"Mr. Nidaria, stay here. Lock all your windows and hide in your closet."
"I'm not doing a damn thing until you get me out of here!"
"Staying here is the safest option."
"Get me out of here!" Nidaria shouted, Woging. The Löwen growled, baring his fangs.
Huffing in annoyance, Jacob Woged also, taking several steps towards his client. His mane was far larger than the Löwen's, and his tail gave him a larger profile. Nidaria's threatening posture faltered, and he looked nervously at Jacob's scorpion tail. "Lock your windows, stay in your closet," he said, his voice barely above a growl.
Both men Woged back, and Nidaria locked the large double-window that led out onto the balcony before retreating into his closet.
With that taken care of, Jacob stepped outside the master bedroom, locking the door behind him. He turned to the man standing guard and said "Stay here. Protect the client at all costs. Do you understand?"
The blonde man nodded, moving directly in front of the door as he drew his pistol.
Jacob walked down the hallway, making a left by the Rembrandt. Seeing another guard walking along, he said "Head to the foyer through the kitchens. I'll meet you there from the top of the staircase. Michaels was in that area before he cut out."
"Shouldn't the alarms be going off if someone broke in?"
"We'll deal with that later," Jacob said. "Go, now." The man nodded, hurrying down one of the side hallways. Jacob continued his original course, which would take him to the foyer. It wasn't long before he heard a pair of gunshots, and ran the rest of the way. When he burst through the last set of doors, he found everything bathed in darkness. The nearest camera was off, evidenced by the absence of a green light. Whoever was breaking in had somehow disabled the security system.
A grunt drew Jacob's attention, and when he found its source, his heart nearly stopped. Trevor, the guard he'd told to come through the kitchens, was hanging over a dozen feet in the air in the middle of the room.
A creature was holding him there.
It was dressed in a simple black jacket and pants, but those were the only human thing about it. The creature held Trevor by the chest with extremely long, sharp talons on its feet. Its legs were bent backwards, and all visible parts of its body were covered by pure white feathers. Instead of arms, it had two large wings which flapped in order to keep it aloft, while its head was larger than a human's. Its head snapped backwards to look at Jacob, allowing him to see its majestic, glowing golden eyes. Instead of a mouth, it possessed a long, thick yellow beak which was hooked on the end.
Whatever Wesen this could be, it was clearly dangerous. It gave a shrill, piercing cry, then released its grip on Trevor. He plummeted down to the floor, and Jacob heard the distinct snap of a broken neck.
He looked back at the winged Wesen, a snarl on his face as he Woged. Jacob roared as he leaped through the air at the creature as it swooped down towards him. They collided mid-air, and both Wesen tore into each other with tooth and claw. Jacob felt himself falling as his weight brought his opponent down to the floor, negating its flight advantage. It was certainly quick, but not nearly as strong as he was. In fact, he rather easily rolled it onto its back.
Jacob, growling, lunged with his tail, aiming for its head. The other Wesen avoided the attack as his stinger imbedded itself in the floor, then jerked its head forward as it bit into his shoulder with its beak.
His shoulder exploded with the sensation of a thousand carving knives as the beak tore through his clothes and skin, leaving a bloody gash as he roared in pain. Jacob then found himself swept onto his back while he was distracted. He belatedly noticed that the Wesen wasn't attacking, and saw a flash of feathers down the hall. Gritting his fangs, Jacob got to his feet and charged after the intruder.
Whatever it was, it was fast. Jacob ran all the way across the southwest wing of the mansion, and he never caught up with it. Running outside into the garden, he looked this way and that, but the Wesen was nowhere to be found. It must have flown off into the night.
On his way back, he found the corpses of the other guards, their faces and chests slashed.
Jacob had a problem; this Wesen was dangerous, and presented a profound threat, but he couldn't risk investigating the matter too much without raising suspicion, and the less evidence tied to him, the better. He had to find a way to end the threat without being implicated.
What if he could get someone else to do it for him? And who better to kill a dangerous Wesen than a Grimm?
With a plan formulating in his mind, Jacob Woged into human form, his left arm hanging useless as his savaged shoulder bled onto his suit. Pushing past the excruciating pain, he took a rubber glove from the kitchen and used it to grab a large knife. Finding one of the dead guards, he dragged the corpse into a camera dead-zone. Even if the system was still off-line, he didn't want to take any chances.
With the knife in hand, he cut open the dead man's suit before carving a name into his chest. Once that was complete, he hid the knife behind the freezer and took the corpse's cell phone out.
"911, what's your emergency?"
Nick sighed as he cycled through the street camera footage. He'd selected all the cameras covering the street around the Spice Shop, looking for any visual of the woman who shoved past him yesterday. He looked down at the note she'd slipped into his hand. All it said was MURDERER. That implied he'd killed someone important to her, but as of right now he had no idea who that might have been.
No matter how hard he tried, Nick just couldn't find an ideal look at her face. She seemed to know how to avoid the cameras, and whenever he might have gotten a good look at her, there was a crowd for her to disappear into.
Nick leaned back in his chair, exhaling as he was prepared to admit defeat.
"Hey Nick," Hank said as he approached. "Just got a call from Wu. He needs us at a crime scene, and he says you really need to be there."
Thankful for the distraction, Nick said "Alright, let's go."
They arrived at the address Wu gave Hank over the phone a little over an hour later. It was a rather impressive mansion, but the ostentation of it all was dulled somewhat by the numerous squad cars and yellow crime scene tape. When Nick and Hank got out of their car, Wu came over to meet them. "Gentlemen," he greeted in his usual monotone voice.
"What's so urgent about this one, Wu?" Nick asked.
The Sergeant opened his notebook as he led them towards the mansion. "911 call came in last night at 10:49pm. There were no voices, only gunshots. First responders found something of a bloodbath when they got here."
The three men entered the mansion, where the CSIs and uniforms were combing over the expansive interior. "Whoa," Hank said, and Nick could only nod when he saw the corpses strewn across the foyer.
"Yeah," Wu said. "We count seven dead, plus another vic who's being taken to hospital. Two guys are still alive, but they were on opposite sides of the property. By the time they got here, it was too late."
Nick crouched beside the nearest body, noting the suit and the ear-piece. "Looks like private security."
"You would be correct. The house is owned by a Don Nidaria, and he hired McCabe Security to provide protection because he's gotten several threats recently. It would seem his concern was warranted."
"Lots of cameras and alarm systems," Hank noted, pointing them out. "They catch anything?"
"Unfortunately, no. According to McCabe Security, everything they installed was somehow shut off last night, so there's no footage of the attack."
Nick stared at the corpse in front of him. The dead man's chest appeared to have been slashed by something sharp, and his neck was broken. "This guy looks like he was thrown from the top of the stairs, but the position of the body suggests he was dropped straight down."
"Can't really think of anything that could lift a full-grown man into the air and drop him," Hank said.
"Is this why you called us out here?" Nick asked Wu.
"Not exactly. That particular reason would be over here." Nick and Hank followed him down one of the side hallways. There were a few blood trails, which could have come from the attacker or one of the security guards. They soon came to the corpse of a guard lying, slumped, against a wall, his face slashed by the same thing as the others. However, what caught Nick's attention was the fact that his suit jacket and shirt were ripped open, and carved into his chest was one word.
Burkhardt.
"You don't see that everyday," Hank said.
"Any idea who might have it in for you, Nick?" Wu asked.
Nick shook his head, though the first thing that came to mind was the woman who'd left him the note. She seemed to blame him personally for something, and carving his name in a victim's chest was an excellent way to get his attention as part of some kind of vendetta. "Where's the homeowner?"
"He's upstairs in the master bedroom with his wife."
"Let's go talk to them. We should also check out the guard they took to the hospital; he might have seen who the attacker was."
Don Nidaria didn't have anything useful to give them. He'd been hiding in his closet through the attack, and he had no reason for why someone would break in and murder his protection detail. He was quite confrontational, demanding that they catch the person responsible while simultaneously blaming the entire police department for what had happened. All the while, his wife barely said two words, cowering beside her husband.
Nick and Hank, glad to be done with the man, then drove to the hospital where the injured security guard was being treated. After asking the nurses where his room was, they found him laying in his bed, a bandage wrapped around his chest and shoulder.
Nick paused as he entered the room, recognizing the man's face. "Jacob Carter."
"Detective Burkhardt," he greeted.
Hank shifted his gaze between them. "You know this guy? 'Cause he seems kind of familiar."
"Remember that case involving the McAllister brothers?" Nick asked. When Hank nodded, he said "This guy's wife killed Jonathan, and she killed the other three the next night. They're the ones my mom and I fought when we were investigating that other Mauvais Dentes."
Jacob's pupils dilated, likely from concern. Looking at Hank, he said "Am I to understand that…?"
"My partner knows about the world we both live in."
"Really?" Jacob asked, his expression changing into one of mild respect. "So, you understand that there is more to this world than meets the eye?"
"I know what I need to," Hank replied. "Now why don't you tell us about what happened at the Nidaria mansion?"
Jacob pushed himself up in his bed, wincing and grunting from his injury. "What I have to say must be off the record."
"So it's Wesen related?" Nick asked.
"Yes."
"Do you have any idea which kind?"
Jacob shook his head. "Last night, Mr. Nidaria was preparing to leave for an upcoming business deal. Everything seemed normal, but one of the guards patrolling the grounds reported hearing something. I lost contact with him, and another guard thought he heard glass breaking. That's when our alarms and radios shorted out. I told Mr. Nidaria to hide in his closet and went out to investigate. By the time I got to the foyer, most of the guards were dead, and that's when I saw the intruder."
"What did it look like?" Hank asked.
"Avian. Big, covered in white feathers. It had wings for arms, and large talons on its feet as well as a beak. It dropped Trevor, one of the guards, from almost twenty feet up. The fall killed him instantly."
"That's consistent with the position of the body," Nick told Hank, who nodded. Looking back at Jacob, he asked "Had you ever seen anything like it before?"
"I've seen Steinadlers, Seltenvogels, Uhranuti…but none of them had wings. This was something else entirely. It also had these…eyes that shone like pure gold. When I looked into them, it felt as if I couldn't look away, like I was entranced. I can't quite explain it."
Nick and Hank shared a quiet glance. They'd have to make a trip to the trailer.
"Jacob!"
They both turned to see Louise, Jacob's wife, hurrying towards the room. Nick tensed, remembering how vicious she was in the fight between him, his mom, and her and her husband. When she saw him, Louise's eyes Woged silver, and she sneered.
"You," she said, her voice dripping with scorn. "If I find out that you had anything to do with this, I'll—"
"Calme-toi, mon coeur," Jacob said.
Louise's eyes returned to normal, and she pushed past Nick and Hank to stand by Jacob's bedside. She leaned down and kissed him. "I am so glad you're alive, Jacob. I don't know what I would do if you had—"
"I'm alright, Louise. I have no intention of leaving you alone."
Nick looked at Hank and jerked his head back, to which his partner nodded. "That's everything for now. If you think of anything else, give me a call." With that, he left his card and walked out, Hank in tow.
"That woman did not seem to like you."
As they stepped into an elevator, Nick replied "Yeah, well, we both know she's guilty of triple homicide, and she's a Mauvais Dentes, one of the most vicious killers in the Wesen world. But since I can't prove anything, I have to let her be."
"You ever try doing the Grimm thing, as opposed to the cop thing?" Hank asked.
"I tried that with my mom while she was still here. We barely reached a stalemate when it was the two of us against them. Those two are tough, and right now I don't want to think about what would happen if I had to take them on by myself. Besides, if they stay out of trouble, I'll look the other way."
"Meanwhile, we've got a session in the trailer to get to."
"Oh Jacob, thank God you're alright," Louise said, burying her head in his chest. "When I heard about what happened, I thought for a moment that…I mean, I don't know what I would do if you had—"
She felt Jacob's good arm wrap around her, squeezing her tight. "It's alright, my love. I would never let anything take me from you. That's a promise."
Louise looked in the direction of the elevators. "Why was the Grimm here?"
"He and his partner are investigating the attack. I made sure that he would be the one to respond."
Furrowing her brow, Louise straightened and asked "Quelle? Pourquoi ferais-tu ca?"
"I cannot afford to hunt this Wesen on my own; it would raise too many questions. This way, the Grimm can take care of it for us, and perhaps he will see this as a gesture of good faith."
Louise thought it over, playing out the scenario in her mind. It was certainly clever, ensuring a threat was eliminated while she and Jacob were out of the spotlight. Pushing down her simmering anger, she took a breath and said "Alright. I'll admit, it is a good plan." Staring into his eyes, she added "But never do this to me again, Jacob. I cannot bear to think that you might have been killed."
His smile warmed her heart, despite her irritation. "How could I ever refuse you?"
She leaned down and gave him a kiss. "Rest, my love. I need you to return to full health."
"And what will you do? If you wait here you will start to pace, and before long half the ward will be your next meal."
Louise chuckled. "I think I will go home. I was in the middle of gardening when the hospital called me."
"Gardening? Really?"
"Don't laugh!" she said, poking him in his good shoulder. "I wanted to learn. A good home has a garden in the backyard and in the front yard, so that is what I will do. First, I need to learn how to keep a plant alive for more than a day. It's much harder than one would think."
"Well keep at it, mon coeur. I expect to see the beginnings of a beautiful garden by the time I am released."
With a final kiss, Louise left Jacob to recover. After descending via the elevator to the first floor, she stepped out into the morning sun. Just as she started walking to her car, she spotted the Grimm and his partner driving away. She felt the familiar heat of her anger, and in that moment, she could imagine nothing but tearing the Grimm's throat out with her teeth. However, she knew that murdering a police detective would bring unwanted attention.
That did not mean she would let him go without knowing his movements. This attack had brought his attention back to Jacob, and Louise couldn't rest easy while such a dangerous threat was out there.
Pushing all thoughts of gardening from her mind, she hurried to her car and began to follow him.
After calling Monroe to join them, they entered Aunt Marie's trailer and dove into the Grimm books. They represented generations of knowledge, everything Nick's ancestors ever recorded about Wesen from all over the world. It was his birthright, his inheritance, and the trailer had become like a second home to him since the first time he stepped in it.
"How about this?" Hank asked, holding up a picture from the book he was reading. "A Scharfblicke?"
Nick shook his head. "No, we're looking for something with wings. And talons on its feet."
"You know, that actually narrows it down," Monroe said. "You see, while there's a lot of avian Wesen, most don't have wings. Their bloodlines have been diluted for millennia. If what we're looking for has wings AND talons, then we're talking something old-school; this Wesen would be something pureblood, something ancient."
Nick continued flipping through pages, and just as he came to an entry on something called a Quijada Vil, he thought he spotted something. Flipping the page back, he said "I think I got it!" Hank and Monroe came to stand behind him as he said "A Nobilis Dominus, which roughly translates to 'Noble Lord'. The drawing matches the description we got."
"Damn, that's impressive," Hank said.
"This first entry is in Latin. Here's one for Greek, Spanish, German…here's a translation of the German. Listen to this: 'October 3rd, 1775. Having marched for three weeks with British forces, we made our camp. We were in pursuit of General Washington and his troops, who were believed to reside three leagues down river. I took this opportunity to scout ahead with my fellow Hessians, as I had traveled to the Colonies in order to observe what species of Wesen the New World had to offer.
'Sure enough, we found the rebels encamped within the forest, but I was shocked at what we discovered. Earlier this year, General Washington's agents had abducted Lord William Gladstone and his family. They were being held captive in the camp, but it was then that I saw that Lord William was a Nobilis Dominus, along with the rest of his family'."
Nick passed the book over to Monroe, who traced his finger over the lines until he found the proper place. "Here we go: 'The Nobilis Dominus belong to an ancient and pure bloodline, originating from the days of ancient Rome. They are possessed of great charisma and valour, and as such, many have become generals or members of the nobility. Indeed, I later learned that many of history's greatest figures, such as Caesar, Alfred the Great, and Charlemagne were Nobilis Dominus. It is also believed that the Nobilis Dominus brings great fortune and victory on the battlefield. In Roman times, it was common for Nobilis Dominus young to be…bronzed and held high as the standards of the Imperial legions.'"
"They did that to children?" Hank asked, a disgusted look on his face.
Monroe nodded, then continued. "'It would seem this belief was held by General Washington and his men, who I observed torturing Lord Gladstone and his family into Woging before plucking out their feathers and sewing them into the cloaks of the officers. As the rebels were dispatching the Wesen for me, I ordered my fellow Hessians to return to the British camp. The following day we met in battle with the rebels, who soundly defeated us. We were forced to retreat.' Kind of gives credence to the whole 'using Nobilis Dominus as trophies' belief, doesn't it?"
"It seems the Founding Fathers had a little edge in the Revolution," Nick said, leaning back in his chair.
"Here, there's more," Monroe said, passing the book to Hank.
"'Nobilis Dominus are fearsome opponents in battle, for their wings give them superb flying ability. Their beaks are sharp enough to rend flesh, and the talons on their feet can cleave down to the bone. As such, their preferred method of killing is to grip a victim by their collarbone and drop them from a great height.'"
"So what would a Nobilis Dominus be doing breaking into Don Nidaria's mansion?" Nick asked. "Seems a little out of their MO to resort to petty theft."
"Plus, the whole break-in seemed a little too perfect," Hank added. "The alarms and security cameras all go out at exactly the same time our perp enters the mansion? The 911 call came in at 10:49, and according to the security company's servers, their alarms and cameras all shut off at 10:43."
Nick scratched his armrest. "You're thinking he had help?"
"If the Nobilis Dominus have been generals and lords all through history, then it makes sense if this one has, you know, underlings working for it," Monroe said. "But you said it had to stop before it did…whatever it came to do."
Nick nodded. "Yeah, it ran away after fighting with Jacob Carter. It probably wasn't counting on anyone like him being there at the time. Having fought him once, I can understand."
"If the Nobilis Dominus broke into the Nidaria mansion once, then it'll probably try again."
"Maybe we should check into Mr. Nidaria, see if he's done anything to paint a target on his back," Nick said as they all walked out of the trailer.
John Wintermeier was nervous, and when he was nervous, he would sweat profusely.
Sitting at his computer desk in his apartment, he took out his handkerchief and dabbed at his forehead, his fingers shaking ever so slightly. John's nervousness was powerful enough to cause him to Woge. He rolled his head back, growing dull golden fur over his body as his nose turned black and sprouted whiskers while he grew buckteeth.
It never took much to make Eisbibers Woge.
Just as he started to calm down, his phone started ringing. The sound took him by surprise, and he yelped, knocking it off his desk. After fumbling with it for a few seconds, he answered "Y-yes, hello? How can I help you?"
"Don't be so nervous, John," the heavily garbled voice on the other end said.
John nodded in recognition, though his heartbeat still accelerated. "Of course, sir, I was just, uh, uh…running on the treadmill. Wait, I don't have a treadmill. Never mind! I was—"
"There was a complication, John. We had to leave prematurely."
The Eisbiber gasped. "B-b-but how? I promise, sir, I took care of the cameras and alarms just like I promised! Please don't blame me, sir, please!"
"I don't blame you, John. You did as you were asked. Unfortunately, I wasn't expecting one of Nidaria's guards to be a Manticore."
John yelped, bolting out of his chair. "A Manticore?!"
"Yes. We'll have to try again. I want you to hack into Nidaria's system; get me his itinerary and all the information on the deal. There isn't much time."
"Of course, sir, of course! D-don't worry, I'll take care of it."
"I know you will, John. And thank you. I won't forget your loyalty." With that, he hung up, leaving John alone with his thoughts. This was all getting so out of hand.
Cast List
Mia Wincroft: Megan Boone
