Chapter 18
-/-/-/-/-/-
The supermarket doors slid open, unleashing a screeching tidal wave of emotions and thoughts, but they clattered off the iron wall of Adalind's mental shields. The roiling din stayed out of her brain. It was like riding a bike. She had no choice but to get back on. A gallon of milk was sufficient excuse. She didn't really need to shop today, it was more the principle. Her defenses were snapping into place instantly so long as she kept braving the gauntlets.
Her kind often pursued solitary lifestyles. Adalind wasn't exactly a social butterfly, but unlike her mother, Frau Pesch, and so many others, she enjoyed having people around. The constant crush was something she had grown to hate in the castle. Between the hordes of servants, security, and staff on top of endless business meetings, formal dinners and events, and the useless hangers-on, you were never alone. Luckily Nick enjoyed family dinners and snuggling on the couch. The quiet was broken by Wednesday night get togethers with Monroe and Rosalee. If she needed a big noisy crowd, there was always Phoebe and the Eisbeibers.
She was rummaging her purse when her fingers came back up with a bottle of gas drops. It rolled in her hand. Kelly had not had a single colic attack since her powers returned... Scratch that, since she started nursing him in her Hexenbiest form. Not only that, he was sleeping through the whole night. Of all the surprises, that was one the best.
Her curious little cat sat high in the shopping cart's child seat with fingers outstretched, grasping towards all the wondrous things. His mind was alive and aware and she was so incredibly proud of his progress, and it was driving her crazy. She bubbled with excitement and ached to tell Nick what happened. Their son's development was shooting ahead, but she dared not say a word. Her stomach knotted and her brain shut completely off every time she tried.
Never mind that Nick was completely shot when he finally stumbled in after the endless double shifts. He would shuffle in long after dark stinking of burnt coffee and Wesen sweat, make a bee line straight into the shower, say hi to Kelly, and collapse in the bed beside her. He barely even mumbled out, "How was your day," before wrapping his arms around her, pulling her onto his chest, and knocking straight off to sleep.
Luckily a reprieve came a few days later.
Metallic pinging bounced off the shiny concrete surfaces and hammered straight into her skull. Her jaws were sore from grinding and her back ached from rocking Kelly through the incessant pounding echoing through their living room. The door was way down in the tunnel, what? A quarter mile away? How in the hell did Nick make so much noise? She groaned. Was this what long term relationships were really like? Long bouts of separation interrupted by massive doses of annoyance?
Her teeth ground. It's the third stupid night of this!
A text flashed across her phone from Rosalee. How's the door?
What? I can't hear you over the hammering ! Let's say I expected a different sort of banging.
;p ;p
She trudged up the stairs and leaned against the parapet while her tired little cat twisted in her arms. Adalind dialed Rosalee. "Hey, I need a secret favor from you and Monroe."
-/-/-/-/-/-
Monroe's rant beat him back up the ladder. "Come on! Everybody knows you don't hammer on doors! A little penetrating oil, a little turpentine. Maybe a torch and some beeswax, but NOT a hammer!"
Adalind met him at the top of the ladder with a cold bottle of hefeweizen. "How bad is it?"
He pinched the bridge of his nose and gritted his teeth. "He left big burrs on all the shafts. Those doors have grease fittings for a reason! I'm going to need my files and slip stones. Promise me you'll throw his hammer in the river!"
"We'll go sing Kum-ba-ya while you chuck it off the bluffs after he gets it open. Remember, it has to be a little stuck so he thinks he fixed it."
"Was he even turning it the right way? Righty-tighty, lefty-loosey?"
She laughed with Rosalee as he ambled through the kitchen, grousing the whole way down the elevator to the beetle for his other tool bag.
Soon, he was climbing back over the wall and down the ladder. Half an hour later, a blast of stale air blew into the living room. A bit later he was back. "All set. The door will open with a little persuasion. Just promise me no more hammers."
She fluttered her eyelashes and pursed her lips. "This is Nick we're talking about."
"We're all counting on you here. Can't you just witch him into thinking he already opened it?"
Rosalee scowled. "Monroe!"
Monroe gave her the sort of sidelong look that said he was joking, but not really. He soaped his hands and scrubbed greasy brown into the sink and then wiped down his tools. "It would have taken me twenty minutes instead of two and a half hours. At least have Nick call me if he can't figure it out."
She wasn't ready for more rants about her boyfriend's lack of fixing skills. "So, how was Germany?"
His long, slow breath drifted out. "Depressing. I haven't been to Uncle Felix's shop in years. The cops trampled everything those bastards didn't ransack." He told of antiquities smashed, ancient texts torn, and one bronze age Egyptian papyrus left with a police officer's boot print on it. On Adalind's legal advice, they had inventoried as much as they could, boxed it all up, and stuck it into climate controlled storage while his lawyer settled the estate. The sale of the shop and his house would cover all of his remaining expenses and leave a little for them, but it truly wasn't much consolation. He had brought back a couple more ancient Wesen texts but nobody else in the family was really into old books, so they were sending the rest to another antiquarian book seller in Vienna.
"I know Nick was disappointed that he couldn't go. I'm sure you could have used the help." She would have gone to help bridge the legal gap, and sneak in a bit of Grimm exploring. But... Truthfully, they simply couldn't afford to drop another three grand per person. That, and Nick was trying to save his vacation time. "Did you find anything interesting?"
His eyes glittered as he launched into the tale of the two of them falling through the top of a hill into the catacombs below. Heaps of bones and mummified remains lurked around every turn. They even found a mural of skulls forming a glowing G, but a Wesen search party put them on the run. "It was roped off this time, but I managed to sneak back in. Check this out!" He furtively dug several plain gold rings set with rounded ruby and sapphire cabochons. They were dull from age, but the sunlight revealed stars shimmering within in the old gems.
She focused her powers and waved over them. Three blue-gray sapphires didn't react, but a dull ruby the size of her pinkey glimmered red with ancient magic. It was cloudy and had several cracks, but the fire glowed every time she checked it. She pushed that one across the wooden kitchen table from the rest. "Don't wear this one until we can get it tested. I don't know whether the magic is good or bad, but it still has some on it. Many families put good luck charms into rings, but they sometimes warded them to do nasty things if they were stolen."
Monroe's face paled. Rosalee winced her eyes at him. "See! I told you she would know."
He slid that one back across to her. "If you want this one... From what I can tell, it's likely from the second or third century BC. I'm pretty sure the inscription is Persian, but I don't know what it says."
She didn't either. Monroe had a serious hang up with anything to do with witchcraft, which was ironic, because he was completely serious every time he agitated her to witch Nick crosseyed about something or another. She accepted it anyway. It was an interesting curiosity, and likely worth some money to the right buyer. "Thanks. Hey, I found a broken clock at a thrift store last week. Do you want to look at it?"
Rosalee winced her eyes at Adalind and mouthed, Another broken clock? Monroe shot straight to attention. She dug a shoebox out of the top of the closet and pushed it across the table. His fingers gingerly explored the old parts. "It's a mixture of things, not one single clock, but wow! This is the organ from an eighteen thirty-two bahnhausle style and these are the counterweights off a jagdstuck that's a little older." He slid a loupe out of his pocket and inspected a tiny gear. "This is amazing. I've been hunting an original Einhoeffer regulator for two years now. Where did you come up with this?"
He was busy sorting and arranging tiny parts, screws, gears, birds, and figurines into piles on her kitchen table when she revealed she had paid seventy-five cents for the whole tupperware bowl full. He was ogling a tiny shaft. "It's really a shame, you know. They just throw stuff like this out, but it's not being made anymore. You really hit the jackpot on this." He turned to Rosalee. "Remember Josiah Nelson's Oberndorffer? It needs this exact shaft." He shifted a teeny dutch girl clad in a blue dress in his fingers. "And Violet Wentzlof's Chalet needs this figurine. She's the one from Michigan who let her grandkids play with a clock made in eighteen seventy-two. They just don't get the colors right. Don't get me started on the new organic pigments."
Rosalee was shaking her head. She must have seen the mischief in Adalind's eyes, but it was just too much fun to resist. "Come on, what's wrong with quinopthalone yellow?"
"Oh, besides the fact that it color shifts to greenish brown if it sees any heat what-so-ever, and starts fading after ten or fifteen years, nothing, I guess."
"But you won't end up with kidney necrosis."
He scowled. "The existential health risk of two-tenths of a milligram of Cadmium oxide. Nobody is pulling the figurines out of clocks and eating them. I mean look at her bow tie. It's one hundred sixty years old and still perfect lemon yellow."
Rosalee's eyes rolled, but he continued, "But it's OK when they repackage mexican oregano as Greek oregano and it sends a maushertz to the hospital."
Just last week, they had to double dose Evelyn Smithers with benadryl after that exact mix-up at the grocery store. Luckily, her daughter-in-law found her in time. Rosalee nodded, but didn't add anything.
Adalind fake pouted. She did enjoy chemistry nerd talk a bit too much. She continued, "You're welcome to take those if you think you can find a use for them."
He was still chattering about various clock parts when they headed back to the house. Rosalee mouthed, Enabler.
Meatballs were simmering in rich spaghetti sauce when she investigated the old ring. The ruby was cloudy and full of inclusions, but it was big and blood red with a star that followed the light as she twisted it. What sort of charms would they have put on a ring made that long ago?
Her mind drifted. Nick needed a few nights of home cooked meals after a month of take out burgers in the passenger seat of a cop car, but she was in the mood for wings, beer, and cheap wine.
After dinner, Nick headed down into the tunnel with his hammer while she rinsed the soap suds off the last of the dishes. What was her first purchase going to be once she finally landed a job? A dishwasher, a rocking chair, or a changing table for Kelly?
Nick hadn't been seriously injured in almost a month. That was probably some sort of record. She needed to get going on the blood expander. Mostly, she needed some place out of the way with an electric outlet where the temperature controlled fermentation could bubble away.
And money.
She needed money to do it. Money they didn't have. The tunnel would be perfect once Bud ran some wiring. Research into trauma kits reminded her that while he kept a basic police issue pack in his truck he didn't exactly get into normal situations like the other detectives. Holtby barely qualified to carry a gun and Bauer had a nasty habit of forgetting his at the house. Of course, that was why Renard sent Nick to rescue her from the Mellifer queen all those years ago...
From what she had seen over the last six months, they needed clotting agents which could handle severe wounds. Home synthesis of that was a lot less promising. There was stuff like powdered animal horn, potato starch, alum, sodium silicate, and various fine clays, but you had to buy the commercial products to avoid gelling all the blood in your boyfriend's body or resign him to hours of torture debriding contaminated wounds.
Her mind returned to the bible verses. She had found the spot and carefully read the whole chapter. She was chewing the admonitions over and over. Finding the lost soul. The child who had lost his way returning home. Her chest tightened. What were the Royals doing with Diana? Was her daughter in the gilded prison or chained to a stone floor? Certainly they were weaponizing her. Training her to see people as pawns or meat. The suffering were to be exploited and abused. The angels in heaven rejoiced when one sinner turned from her wickedness. Shame burned in her chest. Like she was one to talk. How many Wesen had she condemned to death in her games against Nick and Sean? That's all it was to her then. Games. How could she ever save her daughter from becoming a soulless tool?
A screeching, metallic creak shook her out of her thoughts. The banging stopped, but her phone was ringing. She was about to congratulate Monroe, but it was Sean. She groaned. He must be trying to get Nick. But he wasn't.
A chill ran through her. Adalind knew exactly what was coming. "Is this about Diana?"
"I don't want to do this on the phone."
Her stomach knotted when he requested an urgent meeting but wouldn't reveal any more. Truthfully, she wanted nothing to do with him. His audiences always came with strings, and a price, but you don't turn down a bona-fide Royal. Her mind flashed past a hundred worries. She had been keeping up her end of the bargain. She had been doing her part to tie The Grimm down to Portland and remain content working under The Prince for the meager Government Service Grade police officer's salary that barely kept their son in diapers. Bastard ex-boyfriend or not.. You don't turn down an audience with the prince. Cafe LaRue. Tomorrow.
She slid the phone back into her purse as Nick came out of the tunnel. Joy and curiosity radiated off his sweaty body. He wasn't a big guy but Adalind still licked her lips as he peeled off his rust stained shirt. He ducked into the shower and came out scented with her shampoo.
She was ready for some couch fun when he pulled her into the crook of his shoulder. The tension released as his body softened under hers. He pushed a kiss into the top of her head. A sad frown creased his face. "I feel like I'm missing out on so much. Kelly just started crawling and now he's pulling up. He really liked your sauce."
Her soul ached to tell him the truth but it was just too much when his heart was burning with guilt for being gone. She rubbed a gentle hand over his arm and sent the tiniest wisps of comforting magic into him. His shoulders dropped and a yawn leaked out. He pressed another kiss against her head and pulled her into his chest. A heavy breath slowly exhaled while Nick's body cooled.
She let out a quiet groan. That hadn't gone quite to plan.
-/-/-/-/-/-
Rosalee had some serious phobias around Hexenbiests. Her thoughts drifted back to Freddy. She had cherished the fear in his eyes just like her mother had made a point of abusing his father, and him, and Rosalee. A little calming magic here and there had gone a long way. Adalind made a point never to woge or work magic in front of her friend. Rosalee didn't have a problem with her, per-se, and she was going to keep it that way.
The typical hour or two helping with internet orders had blossomed with her appointment as semi-official Hexenbiest. It only took a teeny bit of witching and Rosalee was back to her regular confident and competent self. At first Adalind worried that her kind would scare away the normal customers, but the opposite proved true. Word got around that witches were doing regular business with The Spice Shop, and it brought in even more Wesen.
The last round of customers had just finished up when Rosalee hit her up about Nick again. Of course, she still hadn't told him. She tried. She really did. Every single day she saw him, but she her stomach knotted and the words wouldn't come out. Life was a whirlwind right now, and she wanted to spend the short hours they did have together on things other than her own murder and him kicking them out.
Rosalee's next question was the fertility procedure, which Adalind had made progress on. In fact, she had a meeting with Evangeline the very next day... With that, she headed off to meet Sean. It was yet another thing she needed to tell Nick about. The last thing she needed was rumors wrecking the best and longest relationship she had ever had.
And then Sean ordered her to remain silent. For the sake of their daughter. At first, she had been furious for the demand of secrecy, until Sean's revelation that Meisner had Diana. She had brought him into her home. Trusted him. Doctored his agent, and this was her reward? Was Nick in on some sort of sick game?
Her anger flared an instant before her law library parking pass flew off the mirror, ricocheted off the headliner, and flopped into Kelly's car seat. He giggled and stuffed the plastic placard into his mouth. She had to control herself.
She piloted the car into a shopping center parking lot and slid Bud's grandmother's dog eared bible out of her purse. Her fingers hissed as the pages flipped past. Leaving the ninety-nine to find the lost one. Heat waves shimmered while she paced back and forth over the cracked asphalt. Tears puffed off her cheeks as she stared into the sky. "Please. Help me find her."