A/N: Just a quick "thank you" to those who have reviewed and followed this story! It's a lot of fun to write, and your encouragement in this endeavor is greatly appreciated.

Onward, ho!


Nick examined the crime scene with a close eye, taking in every detail. Maybe it was a Grimm thing, but the carnage didn't make him want to hurl as much as it would have done a couple of years ago. That thought actually did disturb him a little.

The victim's head eyelessly surveyed the area from the top of the stairs, while the other body parts were strewn almost carelessly around the steps. Right hand there, left hand, arms, legs, torso...

Hm.

He frowned in thought as he went down and crossed the narrow street for a view of the whole crime scene.

The viciousness of the kill definitely screamed "Blutbad", as did the scraps of red fabric that still clung to the remains of the torso. There was certainly blood everywhere, and shredded internal organs not so internal anymore.

So what was nagging at him about this picture?

A prickling sensation raised the hairs on his neck. Casually, Nick glanced around, trying to locate the source of the feeling; he'd learned to trust his instincts more than ever since his aunt died. He was being watched, he was sure of it.

Behind him was a construction site, fenced off and inaccessible. To the left, a busy intersection and a post office, part of the World Trade Center complex, if he wasn't mistaken. Looking right, the long street was currently closed off by the cops to secure the crime scene. Numerous bystanders stared across the barricade, shocked and horrified by the sight but too intrigued to look away. Reporters and other media people stood talking in front of the cameras. Cops, crime scene technicians, and other law enforcement personnel were swarming the area. In short, it was impossible to tell who was watching.

Grimacing in frustration, he made sure no one was particularly close before he pulled out his cell phone and dialed a familiar number. The line picked up after only a few rings.

"Hey, Nick, how's the Big Apple? Listen, I know you're there for work and everything, but you gotta check out Sutton Clocks, it's so cool-"

"Monroe!" It was possible for the talkative Blutbad to go on all day. Admittedly, this was better than the alternative, which was spread out all across the church steps.

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry. Oh, wait," sighed Monroe in long-suffering fashion. "Oh, no, don't tell me. Please."

Nick winced slightly; he felt a bit guilty about involving Monroe in yet another police investigation, especially one not even in the same state. "Please, just hear me out."

There was a long pause. "Fine. What is it?"

"Well, it looks to me like a Blutbad attack. The victim was pretty much shredded, plus he was wearing red. There've been three previous attacks as well..." the Grimm explained concisely, trailing off a bit at the end.

"Nick, listen to me. You know how dangerous Blutbaden are, especially when hunting humans. As soon as you can, go and pick up some wolfsbane. It's also called monkshood. Hold on a sec, I think Rosalee's got the contact info for a Wesen herb shop over there. Lemme just check the book here..." Nick heard the rustling of pages over the line for several seconds as Monroe presumably flipped through an address book. "Yeah, I got it. I'll text you the number. Try not to freak out the proprietor too much," the Blutbad cautioned him emphatically.

Nick snorted derisively. "It's not intentional. You know how I might be able to track down the local Blutbaden?"

"I'm not exactly keeping in touch with the relatives, if that's what you mean. Wieder Blutbaden like me aren't really invited to all the family get-togethers. And because of, you know, our relationship, me helping you and all that, being friends with a Grimm-"

"Yeah, I get it. Thanks anyway."

"Oh, and I don't think I need to remind you to be careful, Nick. Try not to get killed over there,"advised Monroe, the sincerity more than a little fervent, if colored in sarcasm.

"Thanks," Nick replied dryly. "I'll try to remember that." He ended the call and returned the phone to his pocket. He'd have to wait until later to track down the wolfsbane; he didn't exactly have a good excuse to ditch the detectives he was supposed to be here observing. On the positive (or at least slightly less negative) side, the Blutbad would be sated for the next week, giving Nick time to track him down and do what needed to be done. As he pondered his next move, his phone buzzed, Monroe having sent him the address of the herb shop.

"Hey, you gonna do some actual observing over here, or you just gonna chat with your girlfriend all day?" asked Fusco acerbically, calling to him from across the narrow street. This, coming from the guy who had earlier fielded a call from his ex. If this was an sample of his normal manner, it was a wonder he ever made it to detective, let alone the homicide task force, Nick thought.

However, he had to put up with the guy for the next several days (when he wasn't going out hunting a Blutbad, at any rate), so Nick slapped on a cheerful smile. "What can I say, she misses me already," he replied with a careless shrug of his shoulders as he crossed the street to the other detective.

"So, hotshot, what's this crime scene tell you?" Fusco asked somewhat scornfully.

Probably more than it's telling you, Nick thought sarcastically. "Well, the victim was obviously dismembered, but it doesn't look like it was done by a knife or a saw. Looks more like an animal did it," he said with complete innocence before growing more thoughtful. "The head is a bit odd, though. It looks deliberately placed there, almost like it's mocking us."

Fusco's eyes narrowed as he glanced back up the steps at the empty eye sockets staring out over the scene. "It's creepy, if you ask me," he replied.

"What it is, is sick," Detective Carter said as she joined them. "Whoever's doing this needs to be stopped, and fast." A strange look passed between her and Fusco; Nick wasn't sure what to make of it.

"Did you guys determine how the previous victims were dismembered?" Nick asked curiously, wondering how close they'd come to discovering the truth.

Carter grimaced in disgust. "It looked like teeth, but we weren't able to recover any usable dental impressions. And DNA was a bust, too. You'd think that all the saliva we recovered would give us something, but every last bit of it was weirdly corrupted. Didn't even read as human. But there was no way an animal could have killed those people without anyone noticing it."

"Yeah, that is strange," Nick agreed in feigned surprise. This information tallied with his previous experience.

"This scene's different from the others, though," Fusco observed, much more to Carter than to Nick.

"How so?" Carter asked as her brows came together.

Fusco made a face, shifting his shoulders a bit uncomfortably. "All the other bodies, what was left of them, at any rate, they were found in isolated locations."

"Abandoned factory, alley-" his partner nodded.

"And suddenly this guy's on the steps of a church in full view of a busy street," offered Nick, earning him a glare from Fusco.

"Well, at least we'll probably have camera footage of him this time," Carter said grimly, her eyes shifting towards the traffic camera at the intersection.

Nick stared up at the unblinking eye, all too aware that almost every step he took in this city was being watched.

The only question was who was doing the watching.