The following evening, Adalind stood outside Monroe and Rosalee's Spice and Tea shop. She had been inside with Nick briefly but wanted a moment alone. The autumn air held a subtle, restless energy, as if it couldn't quite decide whether to embrace the last traces of warmth or surrender fully to the encroaching cold.
She glanced a few times at the door. Nick hadn't said anything more to her about reversing the power theft. He'd fought that battle and seemingly lost. But when Elizabeth had explained to her that she was still a Hexenbiest, albeit one without any power, the argument Adalind had been making against the power theft reversal collapsed.
Lying in bed with Nick the previous night, she told him that she'd changed her mind. Reversing the power theft was the right thing to do and it made sense to her now. However, once she'd entered the shop and saw Elizabeth stirring the cauldron with the ingredients needed to conduct the power reversal, with both Megan and Manon standing nearby, it had all become too real to her. So, she lied and said she wanted some fresh air before she stepped outside. Nick had nodded his understanding, though Adalind could see in his eyes that he recognized her dishonesty.
It wasn't like her to be indecisive. One could argue it was to her detriment that she'd make a decision and follow through with it no matter what. She wondered to herself if that was part of the self-destructive nature of being a Hexenbiest that she'd mentioned to Nick. She shrugged her shoulders as an alternative explanation surfaced in her mind. Perhaps it was simply the way her mother had raised her. It was difficult to tell sometimes where the Hexenbiest ended and the influence of her upbringing began. What she knew for certain was that she was in love with Nick and wanted to do whatever it took to keep their marriage together. Upbringing or Hexenbiest influence be damned.
Having sat in on the Wesen Council meeting and heard the testimony of those who'd fought Juliette and Collette, Adalind began putting things together in her mind that made her realize how selfish she was being. As much faith as she had in Nick that he is more than capable of taking care of himself, it was still possible that a group of Hexenbiests could get lucky and take Nick away from her forever. If that were to happen and she'd done nothing to prevent it, she'd hate herself. Nick may not blame her for what's going on with Juliette, but that doesn't negate the part that she played. To sit on the sidelines while everyone else does all the work isn't who she wants to be. Protecting herself is important. Protecting her son, Kelly, and her daughter, Diana, was monumentally important. To allow Hexenbiests to steal power from any Hexenbiest, let alone her own, isn't the kind of person she wants her kids to see.
Until now, she'd been comfortable with dozens of others fighting this fight, including her own husband, while trying to stay out of it. Even after she'd been attacked, she just wanted to be left alone rather than confront her past. If Juliette wouldn't accept a simple apology, well then-
The door to the spice shop opened, breaking Adalind out of her reverie. In a blink, she'd lost her train of thought. Elizabeth stepped outside and closed the door behind her. The air must have been colder than she'd been expecting as she pulled a shawl tightly across her shoulders. She stepped towards Adalind and said, "We're pretty much ready now." It sounded more like a question than a statement.
Adalind nodded her head without looking at Elizabeth but made no indication that she was going to be moving from her spot anytime soon.
Elizabeth glanced back at the door she had just come out of and saw through the glass that no one appeared to be within earshot. Turning back to Adalind, she asked, "Adalind, may I ask you something?" After a moment, she received no response, so she continued. "Have you ever tried using your powers on Nick since you two got married?"
Adalind's response was so quick it surprised Elizabeth. "What? No, of course not. Why would I?"
"Oh, that's too bad," Elizabeth remarked, her voice tinged with a touch of disappointment.
Adalind turned her head to look at Elizabeth, her eyes wide with indignation. "Excuse me?"
Elizabeth quickly reassured her, realizing her choice of words might have been misleading. "No, no, I didn't mean it that way. I simply meant it would have been interesting to see if he was immune to your powers as well. What with Nick seemingly being immune to Manon, Juliette, and Collette. I have a hypothesis that it might be related to a previous immunity to your powers."
Adalind thought for a moment and just as Elizabeth felt she was coming to the same conclusion, Adalind said, "I don't get it."
Elizabeth did her best to hide her disappointment at having to explain further. "I've been speaking with Manon, getting more background. She said she'd used that Power Siphon with your hair. Her, Juliette, Collette, and Robin. But not Gail or Nikki. Nick seemed to be immune to Juliette, Manon, and Collette, but not Nikki. So..."
Adalind finished the thought, "So you think that he got the immunity from the power theft of me? But why would he be immune to me?"
"Of that, I've been unsure. I guess we have to remember that what you and your husband have done, so far as we know, is unprecedented. He took your powers, you took his, you both restored your powers, and then you married each other. And remember the results of that wedding?"
Elizabeth was referring to the accidental power theft that their wedding had somehow triggered, which had started them on the path they were on now.
"What muddies the waters even further was Juliette. You had used the Verfluchte Zwillingsschwester to impersonate her, slept with Nick, then she impersonated you and slept with Nick. You've created this bizarre convoluted love triangle. I think it's why Juliette was in a coma for two months."
Adalind's eyebrow went up, "Is that where she's been? No one told me that. But how does one thing lead to another?"
Elizabeth bobbed her head, "I think that may be my fault? This method we're using to reverse the power theft. It's not like hitting an 'undo' button. It's messy. I think we undid more than we intended to while also not fully undoing what we wanted. I think it did something to the connection the three of you have and, in the process, freed Juliette of the Eve personality... somehow."
Adalind held up a finger, something new had occurred to her that she had forgotten about, "When they attacked me, Juliette tried using her powers on me, and it didn't work. But when we tried using our powers against each other simultaneously, it had a strange result. The loft had become blanketed with a heavy silence. No one could hear anything under a shout. I'd never seen anything like it."
Elizabeth shook her head, "That makes me worry that we're muddying the waters too much. If you three continue intertwining each into other's lives, there could be long-term ramifications that I can't predict. Based on what you've described..." She hesitated. She was searching for a good analogy to use, but nothing seemed truly appropriate. "I guess we could say that you're both like magnets, charged with the same polarity, and the energy wants to repel one another? That's not really accurate, but I can't think of anything else right now." She gestured at the door, "Are you ready?"
Adalind shook her head but replied, "Yes. I guess so. I've been out here trying to talk myself into it. You're certain I'm still a Hexenbiest?"
Elizabeth shrugged. "As certain as we can be given the circumstances. But does it really matter? It seems to me that the biggest objector should be Nick, given that he's a Grimm and all. I don't know what goes on behind closed doors with you two, but he seems to be fine with it."
Adalind took a deep breath, exhaled, and said, "You're right, he is. Let's get this over with." She marched past Elizabeth and let herself into the spice shop. Walking into the back storage room area, she grabbed Nick by his shirt, hopped up on her tiptoes, and kissed him. The sudden affection caught him off guard, and for a couple of seconds, he didn't move. Then nature took over, and he returned the kiss.
The others in the room stood awkwardly. Monroe rocked back and forth on his feet, swinging his arms at his side, doing his best to avoid making the situation even more offputting.
When Adalind released her grip, Nick smiled, raised his eyebrows, and asked, "What was that for?"
She wrapped her arms around his waist and said, "I think I was spending too much time feeling sorry for myself and not nearly enough time appreciating what I have and what's worth fighting for. I'm ready to do this."
Elizabeth had once again prepared the concoction that would reverse a power theft. Monroe had set up the tent in the basement of the Spice Shop without needing to be asked. Just as before, Adalind entered the tent and settled onto the floor. Megan and Manon followed suit.
Elizabeth joined them inside, carefully placing a gas burner on the floor between them. After stepping out, Monroe entered and positioned the cauldron on a stand directly above the flame. Once he exited the tent, Elizabeth instructed, "Once I zip up this tent, you need to turn that burner all the way up. It's going to get pretty warm in there." She handed Adalind a canister and added, "That's in case the burner runs out of fuel."
Having been through this ordeal before and knowing what to expect this time, Adalind had brought a towel for perspiration and a pillow to rest her head on.
Elizabeth closed the tent's zipper, and she and Monroe returned upstairs to the Spice shop, leaving Adalind, Megan, and Manon in an awkward silence.
Avoiding eye contact, Megan positioned herself cross-legged on the floor, her arms crossed tightly. Manon, in contrast, adopted a partial recline, using an elbow as support.
Minutes ticked by, shrouded in silence, the only sound being the gas ignited by the burner, until Manon's voice pierced the stillness. Her French accent carried a sense of lightness and hopefulness, a marked departure from her demeanor at the Wesen Council meeting. "So, married to a Grimm, huh? What's that like?" Her attempt at small talk was accompanied by a forced smile.
Adalind's gaze met Manon's, an incredulous eyebrow raised. "You're seriously asking me about my personal life right now?"
Manon let out a nervous chuckle, the tension tangibly thickening. "I know, it's an odd time for chitchat. But, you know, we're stuck here."
Adalind rolled her eyes, her annoyance apparent. "Right, because discussing my love life will definitely expedite our power restoration."
Megan interjected, her voice tinged with an underlying edge. "Let's stay focused on the task at hand."
Manon cleared her throat, feeling the awkwardness. "Okay, maybe not the best start. By the way, I'm Manon."
Adalind nodded, her gaze locked on Manon. "I know." She shot a pointed look, using air quotes, "Power thief."
Manon squirmed, the weight and shame of the accusation apparent, "Yeah, that's me."
Megan's hostility was understated but unmistakable. "Claiming what's not yours seems to be your expertise."
Adalind didn't feel inclined to defend Manon, but her animosity towards Megan compelled her to speak up. "And you have a knack for poaching clients. We all have our pastimes."
Manon's nerves were fraying, her words stuttering. "Look, I'm here to fix it. I never really wanted to do it in the first place."
Adalind's skepticism was evident in her face as she rolled her eyes again, "Oh, I really doubt that. Nick told me the real reason you're doing this. I think if the power theft hadn't scarred you the way it had, you'd still be with Juliette's Coven."
Megan managed a questioning look, her hostility momentarily overshadowed by curiosity, "Wait, what happened?"
Adalind hesitated for a moment, then relayed the information Nick had shared with her, "The forced Woge that power theft leads to? Look at the bandage. Even now, with just us three, she won't take it off because she's that embarrassed about what happened to her face."
Megan's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and for a moment, the shock replaced the tension. Repeating the same accusation that Nick had made to Manon when she revealed she wanted to switch sides, Megan said, "Seriously? Vanity led to all this?"
Manon shifted uncomfortably, clearly embarrassed by the revelation of her reasoning, "I... yeah, it's stupid, I know."
Adalind's smirk was almost involuntary, "Well, that's one way to learn a lesson, I guess."
Manon paused, her voice wavering, "I'm sorry though, for whatever it's worth."
Adalind's response was measured, tinged with hesitation, "Yeah, well, apologies don't exactly mend broken bones."
Megan's tone remained composed, her words sharp, "Or stolen powers."
Adalind's guard didn't completely drop, but her tone softened a fraction, "Fine, let's just focus on not killing each other."
Manon managed a nervous chuckle, trying to alleviate the tension, "That's... a low bar to start with."
Adalind's smirk was almost involuntary, "Welcome to the Hexenbiest tent of reconciliation."
Megan's acknowledgment was terse, her resentment obvious, "Let's just get this over with."
As the sun dipped below the Seattle skyline, casting an orange and pink glow across the city, Rachel Anderson turned the corner onto her quiet suburban street. Her worn-out sneakers crunched against the pavement, her steps slowing as she approached her house, a cozy two-story residence with a well-tended garden.
Rachel was an editor at a local publishing company, known for her keen eye for detail and her passion for literature. She had spent the day immersed in manuscripts and deadlines, looking forward to a quiet evening with a good book and a cup of tea.
Her anticipation turned to bewilderment as she neared the front porch. The door, once secure and welcoming, lay on the floor several feet into her home. The wood was splintered, the entrance a chaotic scene of destruction. Her heart raced, and adrenaline surged through her as she took in the damage.
"What? Who could have done this?" she muttered under her breath, her mind raced with scenarios of violence and danger. She hesitated for a moment, scanning the surroundings, half-expecting someone to still be present. But the street was deserted, bathed in the fading sunlight.
With cautious steps, Rachel entered her home. The living room lay in disarray, the door's path of destruction evident in the debris scattered across the floor, picture frames hung askew on the walls. Yet, despite the forceful intrusion, nothing seemed to be missing. The electronics, the valuable heirlooms—everything was as it should be, except for the chaos left in the wake of the door's impact.
Her pulse gradually steadied, but her puzzlement only deepened. She ventured further into the house, her ears attuned to every creak and rustle. The kitchen, the hallway, her study—all untouched. It was as if the force that had shattered her door had done so without any intention to steal or vandalize.
With every careful step, Rachel continued her exploration. She felt like an intruder in her own home, the sense of violation lingering in the air. Yet, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was off, that there was more to this incident than met the eye.
Finally, she reached her bedroom. The door stood ajar, inviting her in. As she pushed it open, her gaze swept the room, instinctively searching for any signs of disturbance. But all was as it was supposed to be. Or so she thought.
What she didn't know was that something had been stolen—a bit of hair from the brush on her nightstand.
Alexis Jensen, a software engineer working in the city, had spent a long day troubleshooting code and crunching numbers at her office in Portland. Parking her vehicle in front of her home, blasting music as loud as her speakers would allow, she noticed nothing amiss. However, as she approached her home in the quiet suburb of Tacoma, she noticed that something was off. Her front gate was slightly ajar; she initially shrugged it off. Could have been the mail carrier after all. When she began her ascent up the path, however, the sight that greeted her was jaw-dropping. She reached into her bag and pulled out her phone, ready to dial 911 if needed.
The door had been blasted off its hinges, the wood splintered and scattered across the entryway. She ran her hand up and down the doorjamb and felt a chill run down her spine as she estimated the force that must have been used. Her mind raced, thinking of all the possibilities. Was it a home invasion? A robbery?
Despite her racing thoughts, Alexis took a deep breath and stepped inside, her phone still tightly gripped in her hand. No footsteps, no signs of anyone still being there.
Carefully, she moved through her house, every creak of the floorboards making her tense. She checked every room, every corner, trying to find any trace of an intruder. Her tactical mindset kicked in, and she felt a mix of fear and determination. She was a problem solver by nature, and she wasn't about to let someone violate her space.
After a thorough search, Alexis realized that she was alone. There was no one else in the house. Confusion mingled with her fear. What had happened here? Why would someone go through the trouble of breaking in but not take anything? It didn't make sense.
As the adrenaline began to ebb away, Alexis carefully sat down on her sofa amidst the chaos. She glanced around, her mind still racing with questions.
With a sigh, Alexis pulled out her phone and dialed 911 to report the break-in. As she waited for the authorities to arrive, her thoughts circled back to the strange turn her evening had taken. There was more to this than met the eye, and she was determined to get to the bottom of it.
Hours after the sun had set, the street lights in the neighborhood cast long shadows across the suburban neighborhood, Rebecca pulled into her driveway. A sense of unease prickled at the back of her neck. She had always felt safe in this quiet cul-de-sac, but tonight something was off. The feeling intensified as she approached her front door. It was slightly ajar, the latch broken, and the wood around the frame splintered.
Rebecca's heart raced, panic welling up within her. She reached for her phone to call the police, but then something caught her eye—a figure moving inside her home. Without thinking, she shoved her phone back into her purse and pushed the door open.
The living room was in disarray. Furniture was overturned, personal belongings strewn about, and the air was thick with tension. In the midst of the chaos stood a woman, her face grotesquely twisted into a dried-up corpse-like visage. It was the unmistakable Woge of a Hexenbiest.
Rebecca's breath caught in her throat as her own power surged through her, the telltale signs of her transformation, a Hexenbiest Woge of her own emerged.
"Who the hell are you?" Rebecca's voice growled, a mix of rage and terror.
The Hexenbiest's grin was eerie against her withered face. In an accent Rebecca didn't recognize, the woman replied, "Oh, you don't know me, darling."
With a furious snarl, Rebecca unleashed a blast of energy, aiming to knock the intruder off balance. But the Hexenbiest was quick, sidestepping the attack and countering with a surge of her own power.
The shockwave hit Rebecca hard, sending her crashing into a bookshelf. Books and debris rained down around her, and pain shot through her body. She struggled to her feet, her vision blurred as she fought to stay conscious.
The Hexenbiest advanced, her steps confident as she moved closer. "You're a fighter, I'll give you that."
Rebecca's fingers brushed against a piece of broken glass. With a desperate lunge, she thrust it towards her attacker. The makeshift weapon caught the Hexenbiest off guard, slicing across her arm. A hiss of pain escaped her twisted lips.
Infuriated, the Hexenbiest retaliated with a surge of energy, slamming Rebecca against the wall and she collapsed onto the ground. The impact left her dazed and disoriented. Blood trickled from a gash on her forehead, mixing with the sweat on her face.
With a cruel smile, the Hexenbiest approached again. "You're lucky, I need you alive."
The Hexenbiest reached up and grabbed the top of a nearby bookshelf. With a swift motion, her strength evident even in her twisted state, with a guttural growl, she yanked it forward with an alarming force.
The bookshelf teetered for a brief moment before crashing down with a deafening cacophony. The heavy thud of wood meeting carpet echoed through the room, followed by the metallic clatter of books and ornaments tumbling. The bookshelf's weight bore down on Rebecca's lower body, pinning her legs beneath its bulk.
A surge of pain radiated from Rebecca's hips as the impact sent a shockwave of agony through her. The initial impact left her breathless, her lungs struggling to refill with air. Fragments of glass rained down from various bobbles and trinkets, stinging her exposed skin. Rebecca's arms instinctively shot up to shield her face, the back of her hand colliding with the corner of a fallen frame. A jolt of pain shot through her knuckles, adding to the throbbing in her legs.
Desperation fueled her attempts to move, but the bookshelf was immovable, a cruel weight that trapped her. Every wriggle, every push against the wooden barricade only intensified the torment. She could feel the pressure of the shelves against her body, the edges digging into her skin like a vice. As the fight left her body, her Woge dissipated.
The room fell silent except for the sound of her labored breathing.
After a few moments, Rebecca heard the crunch of glass and other debris under the Hexenbiest's shoes. She was holding a kitchen knife in her hand. She knelt down next to Rebecca, causing her to flinch. But rather than hurt her with the knife, she pinched off a bit of her hair in the fingers of her free hand and used the knife to cut through it. Rebecca's hair was only a couple of inches long. The Hexenbiest had torn the home apart trying to simply find a strand of hair, but there was none obvious to be found. She was forced to take it directly from the source.
As sirens wailed in the distance, the Hexenbiest rose to her feet. Rebecca made a weak attempt at defiance, "This isn't over," she spat, a mixture of anger and pain in her voice. Rebecca's voice was hoarse as she glared at the intruder. "You won't get away with this."
The Hexenbiest snorted out a derisive laugh, "We'll see." She then turned and walked out the front door.
