Chapter Fifteen

Rosalee couldn't shake the disquieting feeling that settled over her whenever her eyes landed on Malcolm. Despite his short stature, barely reaching five feet tall, he carried himself with a distinct air of confidence and poise. His impeccably groomed appearance, from his neatly parted hair to his tailored suit, added to the impression of a man in control. While she respected his abilities as a Zauberbiest, she couldn't help but feel a sense of unease around him. His presence in the spice shop felt like a necessary intrusion, a reminder of the potential dangers that lurked outside. She observed his every action with curiosity and wariness.

Their conversations were typically short, his voice carrying a subtle edge that spoke of his years of experience as a mercenary. Despite his lack of visible weapons, she knew that Malcolm's power as a Zauberbiest far surpassed any physical arsenal he might carry. The knowledge of his skills only added to her discomfort. The juxtaposition of his diminutive stature and his potent magical abilities created a disconcerting aura. Perhaps if she hadn't been made aware that he was a mercenary, she wouldn't be having these thoughts.

As she attended to her duties in the spice shop, assisting customers and providing her expertise, she couldn't shake the feeling of being under Malcolm's gaze. She yearned for the days when the shop exuded a simpler atmosphere, free from the need for heightened security. With a sigh, she refocused her attention, determined to offer her customers warmth and expertise. But behind her smile and helpful demeanor, a seed of discomfort remained.

Rosalee's eyes caught a curious customer exploring the spice shop. With a hunch that they might be Kehrseite, she approached with a warm smile. It wasn't uncommon for Kehrseite to enter the store, although it wasn't a daily occurrence. Occasionally, one would get curious and wander in. To be doubly certain, she Woged to see if there was any reaction. When there was none, she changed her approach, skillfully steering the customer away from products that likely wouldn't be suitable for a Kehrseite.

During their exchange, Rosalee's gaze briefly met Malcolm's, and she noticed a faint glimmer of unpleasant delight in his eyes as he observed her artful dance of making recommendations. As the customer expressed appreciation and made their final selections, Rosalee bid them farewell, relieved that Malcolm hadn't distracted her from noticing their Kehrseite nature.

Silence fell on the store as no more customers were about. Rosalee began to clean up, rearranging jars that had been shuffled around throughout the day. Malcolm cleared his throat, attempting to bring her attention to him. She glanced at him and in his Ukrainian accent, he asked, "Have you been told about last night's events?"

She nodded, "A bit, yeah."

He glanced out the door's window, both as a security precaution and to ensure they wouldn't be interrupted anytime soon, then he continued, "When I came to Portland, I took it at face value that a Grimm launched a new Wesen Council here with no ulterior motives. There are Hexenbiests stealing power, so that was the greater concern. I wasn't...conscious for all of last night's events. But from what I had seen and heard about it afterwards, he has an incredibly powerful magical item. Do you have any idea how he came upon it?"

Rosalee stopped moving items around and turned to face Malcolm. She crossed her arms as though the room had suddenly grown cold and said, "Two points. One, it's really none of your business. Two, even if it were your business and I did explain to you where he got it, you wouldn't believe a word of it anyway. I was there, kind of...and even I barely understand what happened."

Malcolm nodded slowly, wanting to argue the point further. Knowing so little about something so powerful made him uncomfortable, though he'd never admit it in so many words, the discomfort was apparent in his face. He asked, "This Grimm, he's your friend?"

Rosalee took a step forward, "No." She uncrossed her arms and Woged. Soft fur sprouted on her face, accompanied by a set of sharp canine teeth that peeked out from behind her lips. Her ears took on a distinct fox-like shape, while her eyes acquired a striking resemblance to those of a fox, glowing with orange intensity. Her nose darkened to a black hue. She stared him down, not bothering to mask her hostility. Her next words were laced with a growl that came deep from within her chest, audible even from across the room, "He's family."

Malcolm did his best to return to a facial expression that expressed neutrality. He raised his hands palms out as a sign he meant no harm and took a step back, not out of fear of Rosalee but out of a fear that things could escalate. In a mildly apologetic tone, he said, "I mean no disrespect. I'm just trying to understand the dynamics. You believe he's a good man, and undoubtedly, he is trying to help Hexenbiests, when in the past no other Grimm I'm aware of has offered up that kind of assistance. But that Staff, or whatever it is, it's more powerful than anything any single person should be in possession of. Especially..."

He stopped himself from saying the words that could possibly upset her, but it was too late. She finished the sentence for him, "For a Grimm?"

"You trust him, and I assure you, that's good enough for me. I'm sure you're aware of the adage that power corrupts. Today, tomorrow, next week, next year, could all be fine. But the power he wields is incredible. He was shot last night. I saw the aftermath—the bloodstains on his shirt, the pool of blood on the ground—and by the time I'd woken, he was walking around as though nothing had happened."

Rosalee was still Woged, but even if she hadn't been, she would have again at hearing that Nick had been shot. She steadied herself and then remembered something that Trubel had told her over breakfast, so casually it had barely registered—that Nick had healed pretty much everyone with the Staff. Accusatorily, she said, "He healed you with it."

With a slight edge in his voice, Malcolm replied, "I'm aware of that. Though my concerns are not about what has happened recently but what can happen in the future. And not necessarily with the Grimm, but if someone else should obtain the Staff..."

Rosalee relaxed her body to remove her Woged appearance and began cleaning up again. She walked behind the counter to grab a broom and began sweeping the floor. In the silence, Malcolm's thoughts turned to whether she had completely disregarded his concerns when at last she said, "You were probably raised like I was. Told stories from your parents about Grimms? How dangerous they are? How they've killed families, children and all?"

He nodded, "Of course."

She stopped cleaning, placed the broom against a nearby wall, and turned to look him in the eye, "A few months ago, we had a Grimm in Portland who was like that. We aren't even sure how many people he killed while he was here. One was a fourteen-year-old child." She paused and in an exasperated whisper she repeated, "Fourteen."

Rosalee took in a deep breath, closed her eyes, and exhaled through her mouth. When she opened them again, she couldn't help but feel a surge of frustration as she observed Malcolm's expressionless face. The absence of emotion painted across his features was a deliberate choice, a calculated indifference that was intended to avoid tension but was backfiring and only heightening her unease. The neutral facade offered no comfort, no connection, but rather resulted as a subtle provocation. Her voice shook as she spoke, "It was Nick who put a stop to that monster. If it weren't for that Staff, Nick wouldn't have been able to walk, let alone stand up to a Grimm."

She took another deep breath, her voice rising further as she stepped closer to him. He reflexively stepped backward but quickly ran out of room, "Nick would step between a pissed-off Gelumcaedus and my kids armed with nothing but determination and dental floss if he had to."

She raised a finger to point at him as it occurred to her, "He'd protect you too, for that matter."

Rosalee was trying to keep calm, but she didn't like where Malcolm seemed to be heading with his concerns. She knew he likely meant well, but she felt he either needed to be convinced that the Staff was exactly who it should be with or that it wasn't his decision to make.

She finished as she added, "Yeah, the Staff is powerful, but there are very few people I trust in the world to have something like that, and he's one of them."

"Well," Malcolm cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the tension he had caused between them, "so long as he's trustworthy, I suppose." The statement hung in the air more like a question, but it seemed to calm Rosalee down. She marched back to her broom and began sweeping again as though nothing had transpired.

Malcolm returned his attention to the people coming and going from the store and didn't say much more for the rest of the day.

 ***

As the sun began to set, Nick left Samantha's home after dropping off his son, Kelly. Rosalee had volunteered to babysit, looking after Kelly and her own children while Nick, Adalind, and Samantha attended a Wesen Council meeting. Monroe, on the other hand, had a special task – he was assigned to pick up Elizabeth at the airport and bring her to the gathering. After spending copious amounts of time with her on her last trip to Portland, scouring through Hexenbiest tomes attempting to find a cure for Nick and Adalind's accidental power theft, Monroe felt it best he be the familiar face to provide her transport.

When he'd arrived with her at the restaurant owned by the Fuchsbau, Monroe found the place alive with activity. His Blutbad sense of smell was nearly overwhelmed with the aroma of delicious dishes that filled the air. The clinking of cutlery against plates and glasses provided a musical background.

The long wooden tables were filled with Wesen of various kinds, engaged in lively discussions and laughter. The servers hurriedly weaved through the crowd, balancing trays of food and drinks, ensuring everyone was well taken care of. He thought to himself for a moment and then shrugged, somewhat impressed.

As Elizabeth stepped in the door behind him, she paused, momentarily overwhelmed by the liveliness of the gathering. Uncertain of where to go, she looked to Monroe for guidance. Sensing her hesitation, he leaned down and spoke softly over her shoulder, "I think they're ordering food as a way of saying thank you for letting us use the place for our meetings."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes for the briefest moment and replied, "Fine." She then walked off to find a table for herself. When she found Adalind sitting at a table with her husband, Nick, she didn't bother to ask permission. She simply sat down at the same table and nodded her head to them in greeting.

Nick noted to himself that, if it was even possible, Elizabeth appeared even younger than the last time he saw her. The mother of his Captain at the precinct, Sean Renard, who had commented that, "she'd had some work done' as an off-handed way to explain why she looked so youthful and nowhere near old enough to be his mother.

After a few minutes of obligatory pleasantries and ordering herself a meal, Elizabeth glanced around the room and saw that more people were still filing into the restaurant. Some of which she was near certain were Hexenbiests. Others she wasn't so sure of.

Using somewhat of a euphemism, she looked at Nick and asked, "You still have the recipe I provided the last time I was here?" She was referring to a list of ingredients she supplied to reverse the accidental power theft Nick and Adalind had suffered from a few months ago.

Nick nodded, and between bites, he said, "Megan and Manon are going to do the reversal tomorrow."

This surprised her, "Oh? Adalind isn't going to do it, too?" She glanced over at her, hoping to see some sort of confirmation in her eyes. Along with that confirmation, Elizabeth could see the smallest spark of shame in Adalind's face.

Being a Hexenbiest and having studied magics and mysticism from around the world, she had considered herself somewhat of an expert. However, the history of power theft was not well-documented, in part due to its illegality in the Wesen world, but also due to the nature of theft. One wouldn't want it to be known who and how a theft of power was done. That can lead to retribution. She was a bit concerned with the prospect of performing a power theft reversal but leaving out one of the victims and how that could possibly have long-term effects she couldn't foresee. Perhaps there would be none at all.

She sat thinking on it for several seconds until she looked at Adalind, "May I ask why?"

Adalind seemed to have been prepared for the question, "I just don't want to be a Hexenbiest anymore."

Elizabeth tilted her head to the side in confusion, "I'm sorry? I thought you understood."

Adalind shook her head, "Understood what?"

Elizabeth weighed her thoughts again before responding. Deciding that she could very well be wrong, she probed further, "I've never had my abilities taken from me. From what I understand though, this is what, your third time?"

Adalind nodded. She quickly laid out the history, pointing first at Nick, "First, from the blood of a Grimm." She gave him a mock dirty glance, "I later suppressed them of my own accord, but that was just temporary. And now this time Juliette, Manon, and their group have some sort of device that took my powers."

Elizabeth nodded, "So, can you tell me, of the three times this has happened to you, does this time feel any different? I remember Diana telling me when her power was stolen from her that everything around her felt hollow. Is that how you feel now? Did everything feel hollow the other times too?"

Adalind scrunched up her face in thought for a moment and then said, "I definitely don't remember that feeling the first time. I don't think so, anyway. The second time is harder to describe. It felt more like an itch I couldn't scratch. And yeah, now, everything does feel hollow. Probably not the best word to describe it, but Diana picked it." Adalind dismissed the notion that it was of any concern, "What's the difference?"

Elizabeth assumed that Adalind would have made the connection on her own. She did what she could to choose her tone carefully as to not insult Adalind's intelligence, but also couldn't hide that she felt that the answer was obvious, "You are still a Hexenbiest."

Adalind was about to take a bite of her meal, she stopped and nearly dropped her fork onto her plate. Attempting to hide her discomfort about what could be true but that she didn't want to believe, with great effort to remain calm she said, "What?"

"The first time, Nick," Elizabeth turned to him briefly, "No offense, Nick," she then turned back to Adalind, "killed the part of you that was a Hexenbiest. It was dead. After you performed the Contaminatio Ritualis to restore your powers, well, it's theorized that the steps taken to do that don't so much restore your powers, so much as kind of grant you a new Hexenbiest. To say it that way is an oversimplification and it can't be verified, regardless. When you voluntarily suppressed your powers, you didn't kill that part of you. You simply cut it off. Disconnected the wiring, so to speak. This time though? You're still a fully-fledged Hexenbiest... You're just more like a battery with very little to no charge."

As Elizabeth was delivering the news, Nick could see Adalind's knuckles whiten as she clenched her fork tighter and tighter in her hand. He reached out and took her fist in his hand, and though it took her a moment, she eventually looked at him. Her eyes were already welling up with tears. Even though he had made certain claims in the past and he had meant them, he put as much compassion and certainty in his voice as he could as he said, "It's fine. I'm sorry that you're not getting what you wanted. But I promise you that I will be there for you."

He reflected for a moment and then said, "The frog and the scorpion are deeply and madly in love with each other. They'll find a way to make things work."

A tear ran down Adalind's cheek as she smiled at Nick bringing up the analogy she had used earlier that morning. She had never believed him when he told her he was content with her being or not being a Hexenbiest. She felt it was simply white lies he was willing to tell her and possibly even tell himself. He'd taken her in, helped her to raise a child she'd tricked him into having with her, told her that he loved her, proposed to and eventually married her and for some reason, she had held onto the belief that even after all of that, him accepting her as a Hexenbiest was a bridge too far. Through her skepticism, she looked to him, and all she could bring herself to say was, "Really?"

Elizabeth had watched their interaction puzzled as she inferred that Nick had just referred to Adalind as a scorpion, but she chose not to say anything.

Nick, still holding Adalind's fist in his hand, used his fingers to relax her grip. He removed the fork and placed it on the table and then gently held her hand in his as he reiterated, "I love you. Hexenbiest or not."

Adalind excused herself to the restroom so she could clean herself up. While waiting for the Wesen Council meeting to begin, Nick explained to Elizabeth about how he appeared to be immune to the raw power of the Hexenbiests, Juliette, Manon, and Collette, but for some reason not Nikki, and asked if she had any idea why that would be.

Before Elizabeth could reply, a noticeable hush fell over the room, drawing everyone's attention to the entrance. Nick's acute Grimm hearing picked up a few people whispering to each other, "That's her," and, "That's the thief."

Manon had arrived.

She wore a simple, knee-length navy blue dress with a subtle floral pattern, complemented by a light gray cardigan. Her attire aimed to be inconspicuous, but the new bandage on her face still drew attention. Her hair, once dyed turquoise, had been changed to a simple dark brown, pulled back into a loose bun. Accompanied by Alexander and Samantha, she tried her best to ignore the stares and whispers, though Nick sensed her self-consciousness. For a moment, he considered inviting her to join their table, but Samantha motioned for Manon to head to the private room in the back, with Alexander close behind. Nick wasn't sure if Alexander was there to protect her, prevent her from running away, or both.

Samantha stood, observing them until the door closed, and then took a visible deep breath, wiping her forehead with her hand. The restaurant's chatter gradually resumed its previous volume. Samantha scanned the room for familiar faces, acknowledging a few people with waves. When her eyes met Nick's, relief washed over her face as she smiled and approached their table.

She was dressed in a charcoal gray pantsuit with a crisp white blouse, projecting an air of authority and professionalism. Despite the formal attire, she retained a touch of practicality, opting for comfortable sneakers instead of the usual formal shoes. Her dark hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail, emphasizing her sharp features. As Nick stood to greet her, she hugged him tightly, seemingly burdened by the stress of being the Chairperson of the Wesen Council.

Elizabeth had known for a long time that Nick wasn't like the Grimms she'd heard about. She'd witnessed his friendships with Wesen, but seeing yet another Wesen embrace him so openly and publicly was still unexpected.

After Samantha released her hold, she gestured at the table and asked, "May I?"

Nick pulled out an unused chair, responding as though the question was unwarranted, "Of course."

Samantha sat down, and it was apparent to Nick that she was feeling stressed. He knew what was bothering her, so he asked, "Wanna talk about it?"

She glanced over at Elizabeth, unsure if she was comfortable discussing personal matters in front of her. Leaning in towards Nick, she replied softly, "Just struggling with the new job responsibilities."

Nick leaned forward, matching her volume, "You know, if you're unhappy, I won't think any less of you if you decide to resign."

He was still speaking when she began shaking her head, "No, this is too important. Trubel said some things to me that made me reevaluate. I started thinking about what the situation would be like right now if you hadn't started the Wesen Council here in Portland." She gestured at the crowd, "There are some Hexenbiests here because of the power theft victim, Megan, but we also recruited other Wesen because we have a Council. If not for the Council, this could be a lot worse."

"If not for me, none of this would be necessary," Adalind's voice interrupted from behind Samantha. She turned her head just as Adalind sat down in her chair. Samantha had heard some of the backstory regarding the animosity between Adalind and Juliette, and while she was curious, she felt it wasn't her place to inquire further.

Nick seemed ready for Adalind's claim as he immediately replied, "We are too far removed from the stuff you've done for you to blame yourself for the decisions that Juliette is making. She's doing this to be vindictive."

Though reluctant to interfere, Samantha believed her role as the Wesen Council's chairperson lent weight to her opinion. "I agree with Nick," she said.

Internally, Adalind thought sarcastically to herself, 'There's a surprise.'

Samantha continued, "As angry as this Juliette woman may be at you for whatever stuff you've done, you aren't responsible for her actions. And I could argue that Black Claw is just as responsible by eliminating the original Wesen Council, leaving a vacuum that emboldened a group of Hexenbiests to give in to their lust for power. But the Coven made their decision. No one forced their hand."

Samantha's phone began chiming. She had set an alarm for herself as a reminder to get the Wesen Council meeting started. She excused herself to go find the rest of the Council members so they could be seated.

Nick looked at Adalind and raised his eyebrows at her, "I hope maybe hearing another opinion on this can assuage your guilt."

Elizabeth watched silently wondering to herself if Adalind was truly this hardheaded or if she would finally accept what was, in her mind, obvious.

Adalind leaned back in her seat and slumped down, "I think I'm getting there. I just want that part of my life to be over. All the stuff I did, all the mistakes I made. Sometimes I feel like it's going to keep coming back to haunt me until it can adequately punish me."

Nick nodded his understanding and sympathy, "I can see how you feel that way. Juliette isn't a past. She's a person making her own decisions. True, they're decisions based on the past, but... she needs to get over it."

Nick glanced past Adalind's shoulder, and his gaze invited her to look as well. Monroe approached their table, taking a seat where Samantha had been sitting. He shared a tale about Bud's jittery yet confident demeanor,

"It's so awesome that Bud is a member of the Council. I was talking to him just now and he's super nervous, but also really confident..." eliciting a puzzled grin as he wondered aloud, "Can you be both at the same time?" He shrugged, "Bud's found a way to do it I think."

Nick's attention shifted behind Adalind, Alexander emerged from the private room, signaling Nick that the meeting was about to start. Nick patted Adalind's leg, saying, "Let's go."

The restaurant quieted as council members migrated to the back room. Adalind and Nick's passage through the room drew inquisitive glances and she began to empathize with Manon. Adalind subtly slowed her pace, giving Nick's hand a firm squeeze, silently conveying her need for his support.

Upon entering, Samantha directed them to their reserved seats. Monroe, however, was placed closer to the German-speaking Hexenbiests, ready to provide real-time translation assistance. Heather, on the other hand, occupied a seat further away, strategically positioned to offer German translation for those who required it. As everyone settled, Samantha stepped out, inviting others into the room. With the crowd's size, standing room was inevitable for some.

Having lost the lives of three Hexenbiests, the Council had put out word and Samantha had begrudgingly budgeted for more mercenaries. As people filed in, there was chatter among those in attendance. Some of it related to the events leading up to their meeting, some was just innocent conversation between friends. Samantha sat down in seat, lifted her bag onto the table and searched through until she found what she was looking for. She had purchased a gavel online. It felt heavy in her hand. She thought to herself for a moment how life had taken such a bizarre turn that she is now the head of what is supposed to be an international organization with a budget of millions of dollars and all she did to deserve her position was have her brother murdered by a Grimm and then have her life saved by a different Grimm.

Elizabeth seemed to be intentionally lingering behind at she was the last to enter the room.

Alexander sat down next to Samantha with Manon sitting to his right. Once it appeared that all parties were settled, Samantha banged the gavel on the table a couple of times. It was louder than she anticipated and it certainly got the attention of those in the room. Silence fell and it seemed like she could actually feel all eyes on her. Before she spoke, she thought to herself, 'I can do this.' She glanced over at Nick and saw him looking at her with a gentle smile.

After what felt like an eternal pause, she said, "Calling this meeting to order. I want to begin by first reading aloud the names of the lives we've lost in the pursuit of the Hexenbiest power thieves. From what I understand they fought bravely and did all they could. Their names are Isabella Müller, Sophia Schmidt and Lena Fischer. They didn't get into this fight because we asked them to. They did it because one of their own was a victim of the power theft and they took it upon themselves to join with us to try to bring the thieves to justice. I'd like to have a moment of silence to honor their sacrifice."

Surveying the room, Samantha witnessed some attendees shuffling, while others nodded in agreement with the idea. She lowered her head and silently counted backward from ten, lifting her gaze to see that most had joined her in bowing their heads.

"Thank you. Let's hope this is the last time we have to do this," Samantha continued. More nods of agreement bolstered her confidence.

"And now, we must address the most pressing matter. We have one of the power thieves among us, choosing to rectify her wrongs and aid in stopping those responsible." Samantha delved into a summary of the crucial points she and Nick had gleaned from Manon about the Coven and Juliette. She treaded carefully around Nick's past relationship with Juliette, disclosing only what was indispensable. Attendees cast occasional glances at Nick and Adalind. Nick noted the Woge of a few Wesen in the audience, cataloging their identities.

Elizabeth remained in the background, an observer.

Sasha Seidel patiently awaited Samantha's conclusion before signaling his intent to speak. Acknowledging him with a nod, Samantha encouraged her to share her thoughts, "Just so I'm clear. It sounds like this Coven likely would have been committing power thefts throughout Europe if not for the lie that Juliette had told them that Nick had a device that could do power thefts with little to no pain? I'm guessing that if Nick truly had a device that could do that, they'd have gone on a power-stealing spree? Taking power recklessly?"

The attention of the room turned to Manon, who wrestled with her discomfort, her fingers unconsciously adjusting the tape holding the bandage over her face.

"Collette did imply she had such intentions," she replied, her voice carrying a trace of hesitancy.

A mild surprise crossed Nick's features as he noted Bud raising his hand to contribute. Bud's question began with a sincere apology, "I'm sorry. I'm not trying to say anything out of turn or be disrespectful, but the members of the Coven just all agreed to steal power and become fully Woged all the time? How could you live like that?"

Manon listened attentively, knowing this inquiry would arise sooner or later. She understood Bud's bewilderment, yet still grappled with finding a satisfactory response. The image Collette had painted was one of medical wrappings and specialized attire allowing them to navigate daily life. Traveling across borders presented challenges, though Collette was seemingly unfazed, touting the art of smuggling as a solution. Ultimately, Collette's vision entailed leveraging their unparalleled power to assert dominance within the Wesen community. The grand design was to bend others to their will using their newfound might.

Collette's blueprint for their path was a combination of manipulation and delusions of grandeur. She knew that Collette had envisioned a future where their powers would open doors to prosperity and dominance within the Wesen community. As the minutes ticked by, Manon offered a response as best she could, explaining the essence of the Coven's grand plans.

The depth of Collette's strategy emerged as Manon elaborated on the Coven's aspirations. The desire to harness their amplified powers and bend the Wesen community to their will lay at the core of Collette's grand design. She envisioned herself and her coven members as the architects of a new era, leveraging their overwhelming abilities to shape and control the world around them. The Coven intended to use their powers as a currency, trading intimidation for influence, and manipulation for wealth.

Collette had meticulously plotted an array of tactics to transform their powers into a source of unparalleled prosperity. These strategies encompassed blackmailing the powerful, establishing lucrative partnerships, exploiting vulnerabilities, and even crafting an entire criminal empire fueled by their supernatural capabilities. Their vision was audacious, their methods unscrupulous, and their goal clear – to rise above as a ruling force in the Wesen world, fueled by the potent powers they had embraced, "I remember one night she'd had a little too much wine and she actually mentioned acquiring acolytes. You know, people to do common day to day things for us."

As Manon's words settled, a collective realization of the Coven's naked ambition swept across the room. The room hummed with murmurs as attendees digested the extent of the power play that had been in the works, and the implications of the path Collette had set them on.

Willomina, the only Hexenbeist that Nick was aware of on the Wesen Council, spoke softly in shock, "That... that would start a war."

Isaac Seidel didn't bother to hide the disdain in his voice as he said, "Not to mention the near certain exposure of Wesen everywhere."

Nick was trying his best to not intervene in Wesen Council affairs, but Isaac was right. Collette and Juliette's appearance would shock the vast majority of Kehrseite with unpredictable long-term ramifications. However, he had a different point he wanted to make. He lifted his hand from the table seeking a turn to speak, and Samantha acknowledged him with a nod, "I just want to point out that we had the two of them heavily outnumbered and we kinda fought them to a draw."

Alexander countered, "I thought there were three of them?"

Nick shook his head, "The third one was only there for a short time. If anything, she caused the distraction we needed at the right time. Otherwise, we may have lost more."

As Monroe and Heather translated what Nick was saying to the German-speaking Hexenbiests that had been present in the battle, a few were nodding their heads in agreement.

A Hexenbiest whose name Nick didn't know spoke in German, and Heather translated for her, "They were more powerful than I would have ever thought possible. If not for the Grimm," Heather interrupted and a few things were said back and forth between them in German.

"Nenne ihn nicht 'Der Grimm.' Sei respektvoll. Nenne ihn bei seinem Namen."

"Ich habe seinen Namen vergessen."

"Er hat dein Leben und meines gerettet. Du solltest seinen Namen für immer in Erinnerung behalten. Nick Burkhardt."

When it seemed they'd settled things, Heather continued translating for the Hexenbiest, "My apologies, if not for Mr. Burkhardt, I would likely be dead."

Silence held the room for a moment until Samantha spoke, "Would any members of the council have any objection to licensing out more assistance?" That was the euphemism she had begun using for enlisting mercenaries.

There were no objections, so Samantha explained to everyone in attendance that while Alexander had some connections, it may be necessary for everyone to do their part and attempt to recruit others to their cause. It was her belief that the Coven wasn't done stealing power, and she wasn't wrong.

 ***

As the car pulled up in front of Samantha's house, Monroe couldn't help but feel a mixture of curiosity and confusion. He exchanged puzzled glances with Samantha sitting next to him in the backseat. For the moment, she played dumb, acting as if she didn't understand what was wrong.

Unbuckling their seatbelts, they stepped out of the car, accompanied by Nick and Adalind, who also were feigning ignorance. Monroe's eyes widened as he took in the sight before him. Samantha's house had undergone a complete transformation. The front yard was a mesmerizing array of Halloween delights that captured the spirit of the holiday.

String lights adorned the eaves, casting a warm and inviting glow over the scene. Pumpkins were placed strategically on the porch steps, each bearing a unique carved design that illuminated their intricate features. Cobwebs decorated the bushes, their silken threads shimmering in the soft evening light. Eerie lanterns, fashioned to resemble flickering jack-o'-lanterns, lined the path to the front door, casting an otherworldly light that danced and swayed in the gentle breeze.

Monroe's gaze shifted from one corner of the yard to the next, taking in the elaborate scene that had been meticulously crafted. An oversized scarecrow stood near the gate, its straw-stuffed limbs and painted features giving it an almost lifelike appearance. Ghostly apparitions dangled from the branches of the trees, their ethereal forms twisting and turning in the wind.

"Um, Guys?" Monroe stammered, his gaze flitting between them, his voice a mixture of shock and awe. "What's going on here?"

Nick, Adalind, and Samantha exchanged knowing glances, each fighting to hold back smiles. Samantha gestured to the house with a nonchalant shrug. "Oh, you know, we just thought I'd have the place decorated a bit. Get into the Halloween spirit."

Monroe's confusion only deepened. "Decorate? But... How? When?"

Monroe's bewilderment began to give way to a growing sense of amazement. He began to walk up the front steps when Rosalee stepped out of the front door to greet him. She had a mischievous twinkle in her eye and a playful grin dancing on her lips. "Actually, Monroe, it was my idea."

Monroe turned to Rosalee, a mix of surprise and curiosity in his eyes. "Your idea? But... why?"

Rosalee's smile grew even wider. "Well, you've always made Halloween so special with your decorations, and I never want the drama in our lives to rob our kids of that joy. And with you at the Wesen Council meeting, I figured it was the perfect time to plan a surprise for you."

"But... how?" He gestured at the decorations, asking how she could have done so much in such a short time. Monroe's eyes swept across the decorated facade, taking in every detail. He could hardly believe the effort that had gone into creating this Halloween wonderland. A delighted laugh escaped him, and he shook his head in disbelief. "I can't believe you did this. It's... it's incredible!"

Nick stepped forward, clapping a hand on Monroe's shoulder. "Well, we couldn't let you miss out on one of your favorite holiday traditions just because of our situation. Consider it a team effort."

The front door opened again, and Hank, Janelle, Trubel, and Pamela stepped out onto the front porch to join them. A knowing look formed on Monroe's face, "Ah, now I get it. Still, guys," he swung his arms around, "this is a lot of work."

Trubel stepped forward with a playful grin. "We thought it was time to give the decorations you usually do a run for their money."

Hank joined in, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "And let's be honest, you won't find many other places that have such a realistic-looking graveyard in their front yard."

Monroe felt his throat tighten as he looked at Rosalee, "You did all this... for me?"

Rosalee playfully bumped her shoulder against his. "Of course! You love Halloween, and it's your way of spreading joy to your neighbors, and probably yourself a bit."

Monroe's eyes misted again as he looked around at the decorations, feeling a rush of gratitude for the people in his life. "Thank you, Rosalee. This... this means more than I can say."

Rosalee poked him in his side and said, "Say that you have costume ideas for the kids. And that you'll be the one handing out candy to the trick-or-treaters."

His eyes widened as he near shouted, "I'm thinking pirates! Or maybe puppies? Too on the nose with the puppies, you think?"

Rosalee grabbed his jacket and pulled him through the front door into Samantha's home. The group followed them inside. They all grabbed a drink and updated Rosalee, Trubel, Hank, Janelle, and Pamela on what the Wesen Council is planning for dealing with Juliette's Coven.