Dean was driving fast, even by Nick's standards. He glanced over at him, but Dean's focus was completely on the road ahead of them.

"Sam will be okay, we'll find him," Nick tried to reassure him but Dean gave no response. He looked down at Dean's phone and saw the blinking dot of Sam's phone's GPS signal slowly growing closer. He then turned his attention to his own phone and saw the growing number of missed calls from Hank. But, his partner would have to wait a little longer before he could reply. Nick knew Hank was capable of handling himself. Only a little further down the road, Dean suddenly took a sharp turn down a narrow side road. Within a few minutes, they pulled up in front of an abadoned looking building. Dean cut the engine and the two of them climbed out the car.

"Looks like this is the place," Dean said, glancing down at his phone to see they were almost on top of Sam by this point.

"So, are we just gonna walk in the front door?" Nick raised an eyebrow questioningly, but Dean just shrugged.

"Pretty much, yeah," Dean replied, opening the trunk and handing a gun over to Nick.

"I've got to say, for what you Winchester's lack in prepareation, you sure make up for in style," Nick huffed out a laugh and even Dean cracked a smile at his comment. The two of them walked up to the main door of the house. Surprisingly, the door opened with nothing more than a gentle push. Dean and Nick glanced at each other for a moment before stepping inside. But what they saw once they entered, caused them both to faulter. While the exterior of the house was worn and crumbling, the interior was immaculate- soft carpets, ornate wallpaper, bright chandaliers.

"What the hell?" Dean mumbled to himself, walking further into the building. Nick followed close behind, trying to stay focused on their task. As they reached the end of the hall, Dean paused before signaling for Nick to take the right corridor and he would take the left. They nodded briefly to each other, then turned and walked their separate ways. For a while, silence echoed around them both. Then, Nick paused for a moment as he heard a growl from the shadows.

"Grimm!" a Hundjäger leapt towards him. Instantly, Nick turned around and fired at his leg. The Hundjäger fell to his knees and Nick stood over him.

"Where's the Winchester?" he asked, glaring down at him.

"You mean the demon? I'm surprised anyone even bothered coming for him," the Hundjäger scoffed and Nick frowned, lowering his gun slightly. But, before he could question the Hundjäger further, another two appeared from behind him. They knocked him to the ground and his gun skidded across the floor, hitting the wall on the other side. Nick kicked at the Hundjäger by his feet as he tried to push away the one on top of him. They struggled for a moment until three gun shots rang out and all three bodies fell limp. Nick shoved them off him and looked over to see Dean running over to him.

"You okay?" Dean asked, handing Nick his gun.

"Yeah, we're good," Nick brushed himself off, "but if they didn't know we were here already, they sure as hell know now,"

"Dean?" a voice called out from behind a door and both hunter and Grimm instantly turned towards it.

"Sammy?" Dean called out, running up to the door. To his surprise, it wasn't locked. As he opened the door, he saw his brother tied to a chair in the middle of the room. But, other than him, the room was empty.

"What happened?" Nick asked as Dean went over and untied Sam's bounds.

"Honestly, I'm not sure. I think they wanted to recruit me to their cause or something. But what that cause was, I couldn't tell you," Sam stood up once Dean had freed him.

"I think I might be able to help with that part," Nick offered, earning him confused looks from both Winchester brothers.

"Care to share with the group?" Dean raised an eyebrow.

"I think they're part of a organisation called the Verrat," Nick explained.

"You mentioned them earlier, when we were at the morge," Sam remembered and Nick nodded.

"Something else too; I think they still think you're a demon," Nick said, looking towards Dean.

"Yeah, one of the guys who kidnapped me said something about that. They thought I was you and talked about the Mark of Cain," Sam also glanced towards Dean, who began frowning.

"But what would they want with me, demon or otherwise?" Dean asked and all Nick could offer was a shrug.

"That's what we need to figure out. Whatever it is they're planning, it's gotta be big," Nick mused.

"Well, there's no point hanging around here. Whoever those guys were, they'll be long gone by now," Sam pointed out and Dean and Nick had to agree.

"Let's head back to the bunker. We'll figure out a plan from there," Nick suggested. So, the three of them made their way out of the labyrith of corridors back outside. They all climbed back into the Impala and drove off, hoping to actually make it back to the bunker this time.

This was the fourth time Hank had called Nick, and the fourth time he had reached his voicemail. He sighed as he hung up the phone and put it back down on his desk.

"Nick still not picking up?" Wu asked, walking over to him.

"Yeah," Hank waved his hand causally, trying not to seem too worried. Apparently, it didn't work.

"Where is he, anyway?" Wu asked, sitting down in the chair opposite Hank's desk. Hank knew he'd need to tell Wu what was going on at some point, but he knew now was not the time; not with almost everyone in the precint within listening distance of them. But, before he could offer Wu any kind of reply, an office called their names from across the room. They glanced at each other quickly before heading over to the woman who had called them. She was sat in front of a computer desk, frowing at something.

"What is it?" Hank asked once they were close enough.

"Either of you know what this is? Looks like a tattoo of some kind, I think," the officer mused. She pointed at an image of the hand of the victim they had seen that morning. Both Hank and Wu instantly knew what the marking was, and what it meant. Now, Hank was really starting to wish Nick would just answer his phone. Or Trubel was still around. Or anyone at all, really. This was starting to get way above their pay grade.

The mark on the victim's hand was the symbol of the Verrat.