Chapter Twenty-Three

A hush had fallen over the crowd as everyone seemed to be having the same thoughts. Was it really over? Nick surveyed the area to make sure that the Coven wasn't stirring and when he felt confident that they were all fully unconscious, he immediately turned to sprint to where he knew Adalind was laying. Others followed suit, running towards their friends and loved-ones.

However, when Nick ran over the crest he found that Adalind wasn't there any longer. He spun around, peering around trees and bushes. His breath quickened and his heart began to beat harder in his chest as he began to panic. The glow from the nearby trees had dimmed significantly, but still illuminated the area enough that he should be able to see her.

Hank!

Nick ran to the last area that he knew Hank to have been only to find that he, too, was missing.

A meek voice spoke from behind him, "Mister Grimm, sir?"

Nick turned to the voice and saw a young woman who seemed to be afraid of him. She was using a nearby tree as a makeshift shield between them. She was heavily silhouetted but her face was illuminated by the glow.

Without needing any prompting, she pointed into the forest, "We set up a triage area. We've taken all the injured there.

Nick turned to run but quickly stopped, pivoting back to the girl. With urgency, he ordered, "Go and tell everyone else, please." Then, without delay, he turned and ran to find his wife.

Arriving at a clearing, Nick encountered a new kind of chaos. A mass casualty team worked tirelessly, shouts of commands filling the air: 'Support their neck and spine during movement!' 'Apply pressure to the puncture wound now! Control bleeding!' Amidst the emergency medical care, most wore headlamps, their beams darting in every direction.

Stretchers, blankets, and the forest floor served as makeshift beds for the injured, many writhing in agony, their cries echoing through the clearing. Nick winced at the sight of a woman with a grossly misshapen arm, tears streaming down her face as she tried to muffle her cries with her other hand. Her fingers were pressed tightly together over her mouth, muffling the sounds of her sobs, yet amplifying the heavy, labored gasps of her breaths.

Craning his neck to survey the scene, Nick's gaze fell upon Trubel before locating Hank or Adalind.

A man, unable to walk on his own, had his arm slung across her shoulder as she assisted him in making his way to a tent that had been set up. Nick had overheard Samantha, in previous Wesen Council meetings, discussing arrangements for medical care, but what he witnessed exceeded his expectations.

Putting aside the impressiveness of the work being done, he shouted to Trubel and she nearly dropped the man she was helping, her first instinct being to run to Nick. She began to profusely apologize to him as she got her bearings. She instead shouted back at Nick and pointed, "Adalind and Hank!"

Nick noticed heads turning towards him as his body became illuminated by several headlamps. Ignoring the curious gazes, he sprinted towards the direction Trubel had indicated. Trying to maintain his composure, Nick fought off the rising panic until his Grimm hearing caught the subtle sound of Adalind calling his name.

With other people also laying on the ground surrounding her, he had to be careful to not accidentally trip over them as he made his way to her. She was covered in a blanket. He didn't bother to check her condition or say anything as he knelt down next to her. Instead, with desperation, he grabbed her arm from beneath the blanket. Though she winced from the pain, she knew exactly what he was doing and welcomed it when he placed the hilt of his Staff into her hand.

Once that was complete, he allowed relief to wash over him. His eyes welled up with tears as his emotions overpowered him. He fell onto his knees and gripped his hand around hers on the Staff. The warmth from her hand against his affirmed that she was still alive and that Juliette hadn't pulled out a victory even as she was defeated. "You weren't supposed to be here." He admonished in a tone that was neither angry or unfriendly.

Weakened though she was, she attempted to argue. However, Nick cut her off, "We need to help these people."

He slid the Staff through her hand until only the very end was clutched in her grip. He intended to repeat the healing process he'd gone through after his previous battle with Juliette and her Coven, though on a larger scale.

A brief argument ensued between him and one of the doctors regarding the hazards of moving the injured. Nick wanted to help the worst among them but one at a time would take too long. Bringing them together would allow for expedience.

The doctors were skeptical about the Staff's healing capabilities. As tensions heightened, it seemed as though a fight was about to break out when Heather ran between Nick and a particularly aggressive paramedic. She Woged, revealing her Hexenbiest nature. The paramedic Woged as well. Nick recognized him as a Bauerschwein, a pig like Wesen. Heather had no authority in the situation, however, she issued orders to follow the instructions of the Grimm.

The last thing he needed was for a fight to break out, so he turned and walked back to Adalind. He wasn't sure if the Staff healed people if he wasn't holding it and wanted to be with her regardless. Behind him he heard more arguing and some shouting but the Bauerschwein relented and began the process of moving people with the aid of others.

When Trubel exited the medical tent, she rushed over to Nick as he was walking. Skipping over pleasantries, she spoke softly to bring him up to speed, "We've counted roughly four dozen wounded and fourteen dead so far. When you get a chance, Wu and a handful of others were hit by something electrical pretty hard. He's back to his regular self right now. They have him sedated."

As Nick knelt down next to Adalind and picked up the Staff in his hand, he asked Trubel, "You're okay?"

Trubel shrugged, "I never made it to the fight. I've been dealing with the casualties."

Nick wasn't ashamed to admit, "I'm actually relieved at that." Adalind lay next to him, apparently having fallen asleep, her breath soft and steady through slightly parted lips. He placed a hand against her forehead. She was cold and he said as much.

"She lost a lot of blood. Does that Staff thing help with that?"

Nick shrugged, "I hope so."

The paramedic who'd argued with him and a man Nick didn't recognize came carrying what Nick assumed was a Hexenbiest on a stretcher. They laid her down as close to Adalind as they could and Nick extended the Staff so that it made contact with the injured woman.

For the rest of the night, Nick repeated this process over and over until all who could be healed were.


Oh my god. I'm in charge?

Bud Wurstner was, in fact, in charge. As the highest-ranking Wesen Council member present, Wesen began looking to him for instruction once the fighting was over. The first thing he did was ask to borrow someone's phone. He wanted his wife to know he was alive and well.

Internally, he was panicking but also grateful that Elizabeth had just arrived. Though Bud hadn't been made aware of the battle plans, he was fully aware of what it took to reverse the power thefts. Elizabeth approached him about where she should set up the tents.

Reversing power thefts requires sitting in an enclosed space with both the victims and the thieves until the contents of a cauldron boil out. Given the large number of victims and thieves, though, it was going to take multiple tents. Bud looked around at the forest floor and couldn't see any reason not to just put the tents wherever. But then a thought occurred to him, "It would be a tight fit, but why can't we just put everyone in the cellar and boil the cauldrons down there? No tents needed."

Elizabeth spent a few minutes inspecting the space in the cellar, and in the end, she agreed with Bud's assessment. It would be tight, but no more or less tight than the tents she'd have to set up, and this way they could put all four thieves in the same room. She hoped it would make the theft reversal that much more effective.

Robin, Gail, Juliette, and Collette were all still unconscious. No one had bothered to remove any of the crossbow bolts sticking out of them; however, they had made the extra effort of bandaging their open wounds to prevent them from bleeding out before the reversal procedure was completed.

Elizabeth had instructed Wesen to carry the Coven members into the cellar. Bud stood behind her, nodding his head quickly and gesturing with his hands, pointing in the general direction of the cellar so that it seemed he was still part of the decision-making process, though he would continue to defer to Elizabeth for the rest of the night.
Elizabeth set up multiple burners with multiple cauldrons. Each was filled with the recipe she'd acquired several months prior from contacts she had in Vietnam. Several vehicles pulled into the area filled with the victims of the power thefts. Elizabeth distributed a handful of bolts filled with tranquilizer to those she felt might be strong enough to use them if by chance a Coven member woke before the reversal was completed.

Bud questioned, "Shouldn't we just dope them up more now?"

Elizabeth wanted to answer Bud with specifics, and her face reflected visible frustration that she couldn't. "It's hard to know what will keep them unconscious and what will kill them. We need them alive to undo what they did. They already have enough tranqs in them now to kill a normal person. Look at them!" she gestured at the bolts jutting from their bodies.

Bud finished the thought for her, "So, what you're saying is, this is more art than science and we're kinda guessing?" When Elizabeth nodded in agreement, he added, "This is why I fix appliances for a living..." A moment passed before he suggested, "What about just tying them up?"

Elizabeth's eyebrows lifted as she thought it over, then replied, "I guess it couldn't hurt."

It was Bud who issued the orders this time around. Wesen worked together, and when they were done, the Coven members were left immobilized by all the rope and twine they had available.

Elizabeth finished by handing out a few cans of replacement fuel in case a burner ran out before the ritual ran its course. She warned the women to not talk among themselves because any unnecessary noise would risk waking a Coven member. One of the women chose this moment to bring up a problem, though she kept her voice low, "Ma'am, not all of us are here. Shouldn't we wait?"

Elizabeth shook her head, "No, unfortunately, the women who aren't here have to deal with this in a different way. You're getting off easy."

She then lit the burners and walked up the stairs. Bud trailed behind her and closed the hatch to the cellar behind him.


Bud was carrying a nondescript hat box through the forest. They had torn the cabin apart looking for the Siphon the Coven had been using to steal power. They found it in the Hat box and immediately gave it to Bud. He was still becoming accustomed to people seeing him as a figure of authority. He glanced around waiting for someone to object to him taking the box, but when none came he accepted it. All he could think was that he needed to get it to Nick.

As Bud hurried out of the cottage, the sun had fully risen over the horizon, its golden beams piercing through the dense canopy of trees. Dust motes, stirred by the commotion of combat and magical forces in the hours leading up to the morning dawn, danced in the sunlight, adding a surreal quality to the scene. Despite the tranquility of the forest bathed in sunlight, Bud's mind raced with the knowledge of the violence and death of the preceding hours as well as the urgency as he clutched the hat box tightly to his chest. He knew he needed to get it to Nick as quickly as possible, his every step echoing with nervous determination.

When he reached the triage area he had to pause when he recognized what he knew to be body bags lined in rows in the clearing. His eyes widened with shock, his breath caught in his throat. He wondered if he'd recognize any of the faces of the people in the body bags. A couple of mourners stood nearby, their subdued sniffles betraying recent tears shed in grief. He questioned to himself; Who would have to call their families? Who would have to explain their deaths? And how? Would it be him? Being a member of the Council, is it part of his responsibilities to make those calls? Visit those families? Would he screw it up?

"Mister Wurstner?"

Bud was shaken loose from his internal thoughts by Malcolm. Bud knew him to be a Zauberbiest though he'd never seen Malcolm Woge and didn't particularly want to.

While Malcolm didn't perform any official recognition, such as saluting, he did seem to be standing at attention while addressing a Council Member. He asked, "Is there something I can do for you, sir?"

Bud had to force himself to look away from the body bags, "Huh? Oh, I need to see Nick right away."

"Yes, sir! This way, sir."

Malcolm took the lead, guiding Bud through the clearing with a brisk stride. As they approached the medical tent, Bud felt a surge of trepidation creeping over him. He hesitated for a moment before tentatively stepping inside, unsure of what he might encounter.

To his surprise, he found Nick lying on a stretcher, fast asleep, with Adalind nestled in his arms. Bud's apprehension eased momentarily replaced by a new kind of concern when he observed the precarious position they were in. The stretcher far too small for both of them, leaving Nick teetering on the edge, his arm barely supporting Adalind's weight. They slept soundly, oblivious to the possibility of a fall.

Malcolm leaned towards Bud, his voice soft as not to disturb Nick and Adalind. "They were up all night, doing what they could to heal everyone. Unfortunately, two more passed before they could get to them. But now, only minor injuries remain."

Before Bud could respond, Trubel's approach announced by the crunch of gravel underfoot. She peered into the tent, glancing at Nick before turning her attention to Bud. A quick exchange of glances between Trubel and Bud followed before Trubel broke the silence with a no-nonsense call. "Hey, Nick! Bud needs to talk to you!" Then she walked off before witnessing the result of her unrequested assistance.

Nick and Adalind stirred at the sound, but miraculously managed to stay put on the stretcher. Adalind, supported by Nick, swung her legs off the edge tentatively, her movements betraying her exhaustion. A wide yawn stretched her arms skyward, threatening to unbalance her before she steadied herself. After she regained her composure she reached out for Nick's hand to assist him in rising from the stretcher.

He attempted to stifle a yawn, speaking through it, he said, "What do you need, Bud?"

Bud, as apologetic as ever, "I'm so sorry to bother you, Nick. We, uh, we found... or rather someone else found and then gave this to me." He stopped speaking and glanced at Malcolm that was standing at attention next to him.

Bud, made uncomfortable by Malcolm's overt respect to his perceived authority of Bud had an altogether different reason to dismiss him, "Um, do you mind?"

Malcolm lifted his eyebrows, at first not understanding Bud's unstated request for privacy. When the realization hit him he exclaimed, "Oh, beg pardon." He lingered for just a moment more, unsure if perhaps he should say something more. With uncertainty in his eyes he turned and left.

Bud glanced behind him and around the tent flaps. Deciding there was no one else about within ear shot, he pulled the lid off of the hat box and in a loud whisper, said, "The Siphon!" Angling the box so that Nick and Adalind could peer inside he added, "I assumed I should give it to you? I didn't feel safe just letting it sit around."

Nick nodded his assurance at Bud, but it was Adalind who stepped forward. Her curiosity getting the better of her. She wanted to see what the Siphon was. The description she'd overheard didn't do it justice. The curved and angular spindles looked so artificial and yet also seemed to her eyes to be natural formations. She reached into the box and lifted it out. Turning it one way and another. She spoke out loud but to no one in particular, "It's amazing that people figured out how to make things like this." She let out a half-hearted chuckle as she added, "I guess they don't make 'em like they used to, huh?"

She dropped it unceremoniously back into the box. She had no interest in the device other than the naked curiosity of how anyone could figure out how to create it or anything like it.

Nick stepped forward and peered into the open box. He asked, "What do you think would happen if I tried to use thing?"

Adalind narrowed her eyes at him in disbelief and admonishment, "We're not going to find out. So, you can get that idea out of your head. We need to bury this thing or sink it to the bottom of the ocean or something."

Bud had kept quiet during their exchange, but after a moment's pause he said, "I figured you'd want to use it to take away Juliette's power."

Adalind looked at the spindles on the device. She slowly reached forward with her hand, extending one finger until she pressed it against the point of a spindle. She thought back to when she performed the Contaminatio Ritualis to get her powers back the first time she lost them. She'd had to do some disgusting things. But that was back when she wanted the powers and was desperate to get them back. Now, she wasn't sure what she wanted. She had wanted so badly to be rid of them because she felt it better for her marriage and her family. However, Nick was slowly convincing her that she could be happily married and still be a full-fledged Hexenbiest. Taking away Juliette's powers did seem a kind of poetic justice given their history. But, if the Wesen Council adhered to Wesen law, Juliette and her Coven would likely be put to death. Which made it all a moot point.

The only lingering question remaining was, did she want the power back and what would she be willing to do to get it? Driving a spindle through her palm certainly didn't appeal to her. She was afraid to ask, but did so anyway, "Nick, what do you think?"

Nick was silent for a long moment. He was likely mulling over the same things about Juliette that Adalind had been considering. "Well..." he fell silent again for a very long and pregnant pause then began again, "Well, I keep going back to you being married to me. That we have a child together, me a Grimm, you a Hexenbiest, and that I'd like to hope we'll never need you to protect him... I'd feel better knowing that you could if you ever had to. I'd want you be the most powerful Hexenbiest the world has ever seen if it helps keep Kelly safe. But I know how you feel about it. I'd rather you make the decision on your own and for yourself."

Adalind let out a sigh. Why did he have to mention Kelly?


Every part of her body ached. Why did everything hurt so much?

Juliette attempted to move her arms, only to be met with a searing pain shooting through her muscles. Her mouth tasted metallic, tinged with a static sensation. Why couldn't she move? With a groan, she reluctantly opened her eyes. She found herself sitting on the floor, tightly bound at her wrists and legs, rendering her incapable of standing. The room enveloped her in darkness, the only illumination filtering in through the cracks of the hatch leading to the first floor.

An attempt to survey her surroundings was quickly halted by a fresh wave of pain coursing through her back and neck. She squirmed slightly, discovering that she was not only bound but tethered to another person. Though she couldn't discern their identity, she assumed it was another member of the Coven. In front of her, all she could see was the shadowy outline of the wall.

Above, the creaking of the ceiling boards signaled the presence of unknown individuals moving around the room. Their voices reached her ears, though their words remained unintelligible. She guessed her companion was unconscious, prompting her to lurch forward in a bid to either loosen her restraints or rouse them. The pain was excruciating, causing her to hang her head and breathe heavily through her nose. She waited, hoping for any sign of awakening from her counterpart.

Frustration bubbled within her. How would she escape this predicament?

With limited mobility, she attempted to extend her reach mentally, searching for anything that might aid her. When her efforts yielded nothing, she dismissed it as a result of her splitting headache. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes, stretched her fingers as far as possible, and concentrated.

Her eyes snapped open. The room feels hollow! "No!" Ignoring the pain, she thrashed against her bindings.

Gail, roused by the commotion, shouted, "Stop!"

Relieved at the prospect of assistance, Juliette ceased her movements and cut to the chase. "Test your powers. Do you still have them?"

Before Gail could respond, Collette's voice emerged from the shadows, "What? No!" She shuffled in her bonds, attempting to free herself.

Juliette was jerked violently as Gail struggled against her restraints. "Hey! You just told me to stop! We won't get anywhere this way. Do any of you have your powers?"

Robin's voice, soft and laden with sadness, barely registered, "No. I can't feel anything."

The room fell silent for a moment. Gail broke the silence with criticism, "Why did we even go after that Staff? We ended up using the Siphon anyway. What was the point of all this?"

Collette bristled at the challenge. "How dare you!? We would've had the Staff ages ago if Juliette had explained how it worked properly!"

Gail retorted, "What more did you need to know? Kill the Grimm and take it! But no, we had to complicate everything!"

Collette shot back, "We tried! I tried! How was I supposed to know he'd be immune to our powers? We still don't even know how!"

Robin's sarcasm laced her words, "Powers? What powers?"

Before the argument could escalate further, the hatch above them swung open, flooding the room with light. Squinting against the sudden brightness, they looked upon each other in their unadorned state. No more Woge.

Samantha came down the stairs. They heard her before they saw her face, "Hello." Once her eyes dropped below the ceiling she said, "I'm glad I'm able to formally introduce myself. My name is Samantha Gray. I'm the Chairperson of the Wesen Council."

Collette scoffed at the notion.

Samantha rolled her eyes, "Let me guess. You don't recognize our authority? Wesen law means nothing to you? Or perhaps you're problem is that I'm just a simple Scharfblicke" her voice dripped of sarcasm as she added, "and not a battle hardened Hexenbiest like you?"

Samantha called up the stairs, "Come on down!"

Nick trotted down the stairs followed by a group of men. Juliette guessed they were the Wesen who'd stabbed them all with the crossbow bolts.\

Nick looked Juliette in the eye, "We're taking all of you to a location where you'll be put on trial. I even argued on your behalf that you should be provided a defense attorney," he paused as his choice of words didn't seem quite right. He added, "so to speak."

He gestured at the men he came with, "These men will be carrying you. Whether you're conscious for that is entirely up to you. We have more tranquilizer bolts."

When no response came he smirked and lifted his eyebrows at them, "No feedback? Nothing to say for yourselves?"

Robin asked a simple question, "How?"

Nick stared at her for a moment. He ignored her question, nodding his head once, "Okay guys, take them out."

Minutes later, they were loaded into the back of an empty bread truck. Not designed for prison transport nor comfort, borrowing a proper prisoner van from the Portland PD would be too risky though.

Other than a few grunts of pain and disgust, the Coven remained silent as they were situated. Nick expected more from them but chose not to make an issue of it.

He closed the doors to the back of the truck and slapped the side twice with his hand. The van pulled away. At last, he felt a sense of relief. It was over.

Samantha stepped up behind him and asked, "Feel better?"

Nick shook his head. "I'm glad it's over, but it's not really over for the families of people who died last night. They'll have to cope with a lot of loss."

Samantha joined Nick's side. As they watched the delivery truck drive down the road, she rested her head against his shoulder. "Hank okay?"

Nick placed his arm around her shoulder. "You're not worried about people here seeing you standing with me like this? All cozy with a Grimm?"

To prove the point, she wrapped her arms around his waist. "If after today they still have a problem with it, screw 'em."

Nick returned to Samantha's question. "And yeah, Hank's fine. Wu's fine. I was able to heal the hands of all the Hexenbiests who used the Siphon tonight. I wouldn't say Megan and Adalind are friends after piercing their hands together, but I have a feeling Megan is done poaching clients."

Samantha lifted her eyes at Nick. "Megan was poaching Adalind's clients?!"

Nick chuckled briefly. "It seems like such a silly problem after all this, but Adalind was furious."

Deadpan and only half joking, Samantha retorted, "Hexenbiest drama at its height."


Inside the cramped confines of the bread truck, tension hung thick in the air like a suffocating fog. Gail, Robin, and Collette were engaged in a heated argument, their voices sharp with frustration and anger.

"You're the reason we're in this mess, Collette! Your pathetic leadership led us straight into a trap!" Gail's accusations pierced the air like daggers, her words laced with venom.

Collette, though bound and restrained, bristled at the criticism. "Oh, and I suppose your brilliant strategy would've saved us all, Gail? Please, spare me your sanctimonious nonsense!"

As the argument reached a fever pitch, the sound of screeching tires and metal crunching filled the air. The bread truck shuddered violently as a large SUV slammed into its side with tremendous force, sending it careening off the road and into a chaotic spin.

The impact threw everyone inside the truck off balance, sending them crashing into each other and the walls of the vehicle. Shouts of panic and confusion filled the air as the truck rolled over, the world spinning in a dizzying blur of motion and noise.

Amidst the chaos, the doors of the bread truck were wrenched open with brute force, revealing two towering figures looming in the doorway. Hässlichs, their brutish features twisted into snarls of anticipation, surveyed the scene with predatory eyes.

One of the Hässlichs held up a photograph, displaying it to his companion with a grim nod of recognition. The image depicted Juliette, the target of their hunt, her face frozen in a defiant glare.

With a silent exchange of understanding, the Hässlichs moved with swift and purposeful intent.

"We're here for her," the first Hässlich growled, his voice low and menacing.

"Leave no witnesses," the second Hässlich snarled, his grip tightening on the handle of his weapon.

With a bone-chilling metallic click, the blade of the scythe locked into place, casting a menacing glint in the dim light of the truck. The air crackled with anticipation as the Hässlich prepared to carry out their grim orders. In a swift, decisive motion, the blade sliced through the air, claiming the heads of those unfortunate souls in the truck with ruthless precision. As the scythe's blade cleaved through flesh and bone, a spray of blood splattered across Juliette, staining her with the gruesome evidence of the massacre. Frozen in terror, she could only watch as the Hässlichs, their task completed, seized her and dragged her out of the truck, leaving behind a scene of carnage that Nick would later be called on to investigate as a detective for the Portland, PD.