Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen

Nick stepped into the dimly lit room, the acrid scent of stale cigarette smoke lingering in the air. The crime scene unfolded before him like a grim tableau, a testament to the darkness that lurked beneath the veneer of Portland.

The victim, a middle-aged man named Samuel Lawson, lay sprawled on the cold linoleum floor of his modest apartment. The flickering light of a lone bulb cast eerie shadows across the scene. Nick surveyed the room with a practiced eye, his senses attuned to the macabre details that awaited discovery. However, his mind was elsewhere. He still hadn't heard anything from Bud or Juliette or anyone about anything. That didn't change that a murder victim required and deserved one hundred percent of his attention. Thankfully he had Hank with him. Hank had been picking up his slack without complaint at work. The lack of complaints didn't make Nick feel less guilty about it, but he was thankful that Hank understood.

Samuel's lifeless eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, the color drained from his pallid face. A single gunshot wound marred his forehead, the mark of a violent end. The room, though small, bore the chaotic aftermath of a struggle—a tipped-over chair, shattered glass, and a faint smudge of blood on the worn carpet.

Beside the victim, a shattered picture frame lay on the floor. A faded photograph depicted Samuel with a happy family. Nick couldn't help but feel the weight of the lives disrupted by this senseless act of violence.

Hank was crouched down next to the body examining the bullet wound, "Are we sure this was caused by a bullet? Looks a little odd."

Nick, who was only half listening, shrugged, "I guess we'll have to let the M.E. decide."

Hank stood up, looked over at Nick and, noticing he wasn't fully listening, asked, "Still no word about Bud, I take it?"

Nick turned around and saw a few police officers standing in the nearby doorway. He couldn't speak as plainly as he'd like. He looked back at Hank and simply shook his head. The look of concern on his face told Hank that Nick was hurting.

Hank leaned in close to Nick and spoke as softly as he could, "Bud is my friend too. You are going to keep me in the loop on this right?"

Nick had relied on Hank's help more times than he could count. The battles they'd fought together were all dangerous and Hank was always willing to put his life on the line for the right cause. But, in this case, Nick hadn't even considered bringing Hank along. It had never crossed his mind. Hank, fully Kehrseite, or as Wesen would say, Kehrseite-Schlich-Kennen because Hank knew about the Wesen world unlike most other non-Wesen. He wouldn't stand a chance against Hexenbiests as powerful as Juliette and those in her Coven.

Nick shook his head but rather than argue said, "We shouldn't talk about that here and now."

Before Hank could respond, Nick's phone buzzed in his pocket. Duty called, pulling him away from the scene of the crime and potentially a very uncomfortable conversation with Hank. After a look at the fallen victim, Nick glanced at his phone. BLOCKED CALL appeared on the caller ID. Could be a telemarketer or something, but as a Detective for the Portland PD, he had no choice but to answer. "Burkhardt."

"Hello, Grimm."

A woman's voice he didn't recognize immediately, "Who's this?"

"Oh, I think you know. I've been told you're not dumb."

It was then that he recognized her voice, though he'd not heard her say much in their only encounter. The odd accent that nobody could seem to place stood out to him. "Collette?"

"I think it's time to bring this to an end. I've lost my patience."

Nick, again, looked down at the body on the floor. The room was too small for a private conversation. He did his best by walking to a corner, facing the wall and keeping his voice low, "I wasn't expecting the call to be from you."

"Does it matter?"

"No, I suppose not. I suppose I could guess, but I'll ask anyway. What's it going to take to get Bud back safe and sound?"

In a dismissive tone that made it sound like she could have been deciding on what she was ordering for dinner, she said, "Well, you know I want the Staff. But, Juliette, she'll be very upset if I don't at least suggest that you bring that wife of yours."

"Juliette doesn't know you're doing this?" Nick did his best to keep any surprise or incredulity out of his voice.

Collette's voice turned pleasantly sarcastic as she replied, "Oh, Grimm. I'm sure you care so much about how Juliette and I get along, but for now, let's keep this between us, you and me."

Nick raised his eyebrows in complete disbelief. She's either lying or far more foolish than he could have ever counted on. He thought for a moment. The silence lasted long enough that Collette had to check that Nick was still on the line. He quickly decided that the last thing he should do is underestimate Collette and her Coven. For now he'd assume that Collette is lying.

"Yeah, I'm here." He felt he'd regret it, but he asked anyway, though his tone made it sound more a statement than a question, "What are your demands?"

 ***

Bud had lost track of day and night not long after being confined to the dim cellar. They'd given him nothing to do. He'd sit in the shadows, dozing off and on as he was capable. The Coven would disrupt his sleep occasionally by bringing him tasteless food or simply walking too loudly on the creaky floorboards above his makeshift bed.

Suddenly, he was jolted awake by a cacophony of shouts that reverberated through the rough-hewn walls. Disoriented, he nearly fell off the bed as his instincts forced him to react to the sudden burst of noise. As he gathered his bearings, he attempted to play back in his mind the words that had roused him, but there was no need. The shouting continued, overlapping and intertwining, and after a moment, he was able to discern the source of the commotion.

"Why would you go behind my back like that!?" Bud nodded to himself; that was Juliette.

"I was tired of waiting. We can't stay in Portland forever! Having all this newfound power and staying cooped up in a small, musty cottage in the middle of nowhere is a complete and total waste!" Bud narrowed his eyes, suspecting the voice to be Collette's. Maybe?

For a moment, the chaotic chorus of voices made it challenging to make out the details. Three or maybe even four voices were all shouting over themselves, and through the floorboards, it was just muffled, chaotic noise, until one voice overcame the noise, "I keep trying to tell you not to underestimate him, and you keep not taking me seriously. That's why I came up with this plan. It was all about making him desperate! But then you go and just hand him everything!" Bud was starting to follow the dialogue. Juliette was upset that someone, Collette maybe, had potentially ruined her plan for...

"That Grimm has one thing I want and one thing you want. And poor Gail. You know she wants revenge for her sister's death, and your plan..." Collette's voice was dripping with venom as she said the word 'plan' with a lot of emphasis and sarcasm, "is taking far too long for both of us."

Bud scoffed to himself. Revenge for a death that she'd caused herself? Before he could give it more thought, he heard Juliette counter, "You know he has at least a dozen Hexenbiest allies, and you think he'll really come alone?" The tone was both accusatory and seemed to question Collette's intelligence.

The air crackled with tension, and there was a sudden sound of shattering glass followed by several stomps on the floor. More shouting erupted, a chaotic symphony of voices Bud struggled to understand.

Then, one of the women shouted something that brought a small smirk to Bud's mouth. He wasn't sure which one of them said it, "Let him bring fifty Hexenbiests!"

He sat back on the bed, enveloped in the dimness, and thought to himself, 'Fifty. Huh, you'll wish it was fifty.'

 ***

Adalind sighed as she looked at the scattered toys on the living room floor. The joyful giggles of her toddler son, Kelly, echoed through the Seidels' house. She loved those moments, the innocence of a child's laughter, the simplicity of playing with toys. Yet, a heavy weight lingered in her heart, knowing that beyond the walls of that home, a storm was brewing.

Nick walked into the room, his expression serious. Adalind could sense the gravity of his mood, and she instinctively looked toward Kelly, making sure he was happily occupied with his toys.

"Adalind, it's time." Nick said, his voice low and serious.

She nodded with hesitation. A mix of emotions swirling within her. Fear for Bud, concern for Nick, and the heavy guilt that accompanied the knowledge that her powers were a fraction of what they used to be. The power reversal she'd sat through with Megan and Manon had worked, but only partially. "I'm sorry I can't help. Especially since I feel like this is nearly completely my fault."

Nick was about to contradict her, but she cut him off, "I know I'm not responsible for Juliette's actions. But if not for me, none of this would be hap-"

"I know," Nick interrupted gently, his hand reaching out to touch hers. "I get it. Do you know how much I blamed myself for everything that's happened to Juliette?" He sighed deeply. "When I was first learning about the fact I was a Grimm, my Aunt Marie told me to break up with Juliette. I didn't. I felt I could somehow handle both parts of my life. Grimm and non-Grimm. I acted like somehow I could keep those parts of my life separate. It was foolish. There's plenty of blame to go around and Juliette paid the price."

He leaned forward and placed his forehead to Adalind's and said, "Maybe this was all destined to be or maybe it was just a lot of bad decisions that led us to this point. We all get to choose who we are every day. Juliette has chosen to be vindictive and neither of us are responsible for her decisions anymore."

Adalind knew he didn't put his face to hers to kiss, but she couldn't help herself. She pushed forward and kissed him. She had complete faith that he'd be coming home to her, but she couldn't deny the possibility this could be the last time she saw him.

"Well, I still feel like I should take responsibility and go with you."

Nick squeezed her hand, understanding the weight of her responsibilities. "Adalind, I get it. Kelly is our priority. Monroe and Rosalee will be with you. They're on their way over here now with the triplets."

Torn between the desire to protect her family and the reality of her limitations, Adalind nodded, "Yeah, okay."

A determined expression crossing her face. "Just promise me, Nick, promise me you'll be careful."

"I promise," he said, a solemn assurance in his eyes.

As Nick left the room to finalize the plans, Adalind took a moment to collect herself. Her role as a mother was as crucial as any, and in the midst of the supernatural chaos, she found comfort in the simple joy of her son's laughter, even as the shadows of danger loomed on the horizon.

 ***

Samantha couldn't use the same lies to occupy The Weaver's Loft again, and it would likely be weeks before the sale of the building to the Wesen Council would be finalized. So, she was forced to return once again to the back room of the restaurant the Council had been using for the past few weeks. This time she'd planned it so that only key people were in attendance. Each one assigned several people that they would have to contact and communicate key details and strategies. But their only role was communication. They had no say in decision-making. That was strictly at the hands of the actual Council members.

Using a laptop and a projector, she displayed a map of the region on a wall behind her. "According to Nick, the cottage is around here," she gestured at the map with her finger. "The good news is that this cottage is out in the middle of nowhere. So, secrecy and the chance for Kehrseite stumbling into the area aren't really concerns. Our main issue is that they have a perfect three hundred and sixty-degree view in all directions. So, I think we can agree that the element of surprise is nearly out of the question."

Alexander stood only a few feet off to the side of the display on the wall. He was keeping silent, doing his best to be a fly on the wall and only speak when spoken to. He'd noticed that Samantha had a rather abysmal view of formality and customary practices. He was used to the ways of the old Wesen Council and how they ran things, he had mistakenly thought that Samantha would want to somehow adapt their methodologies even if not their philosophies. The latter he more than understood. He often disagreed with the decisions of the Council and their tendency to use violence and deception as their first choice for most conflicts.

But their procedures. Their rules of order. The formality. It all kept the gears running smoothly. However, Samantha seemed to prefer collaborative decision-making with her being the final authority. A short vote was held to decide against voting on strategy. Conflict of this magnitude couldn't be held hostage by debate and voting. Since then, Samantha had taken charge and encouraged feedback from everyone in the room. Once she'd made a decision, however, she would order people to execute those decisions and then move onto the next subject. She's established lines of communication, first aid arrangements, and had even set up a training ground.

Alexander felt the training ground was a particularly interesting idea. Samantha had put in charge the only Hexenbiests that had already battled against Juliette's Coven. A bold idea, considering that a few of them were even younger than she was. But first-hand accounts, according to Samantha, were more valuable in a battle than age. Johanna was the best of both concepts, though. Experienced both with age and also having fought against Juliette and Collette. However, she was only fluent in her home language of German. Samantha chose to put her in charge but with Heather as both her translator and her second.

Alexander had gone with her to view one of the training sessions and couldn't deny the results. The Hexenbiests had far more to practice than the others in attendance. Stangebär, Klaustreichs, Fuilcré, and other Wesen who were there to support their friends and, in some cases, spouses, as well as those who were simply hired by the Wesen Council to assist, were all there to practice what they could. It was a sight to behold.

Now, he was watching Samantha try to work out how to get all of these would-be-warriors to a single location. Several people had put forth different suggestions, but none held any merit. The fact of the matter is, Samantha and her Council had recruited so many people, it was impossible to move them without leaving a footprint.

Alexander decided it was time for him to cooperate in Samantha's approach to running an organization. He cleared his throat both because he genuinely needed to do so, but he also wanted to gather the attention of the room, "If I may?"

Samantha rapped her knuckles on the wall to get others to stop talking. She looked at him, "Alexander."

He nodded, "From what I gather, the problem is that you can't fathom a way to transport all of our people to one location at one time. The terrain is a factor. The area is surrounded by trees and I think, if I understand that map correctly, there's a creek or a stream not far from the cottage. So, our enemy not only has a full view of the area, but they have an environment that insulates them from a direct assault as well. I would suggest that rather than try to find some unimaginable way to get everyone there as one massive assault team... we do the opposite."

 ***

Samantha stepped into her home and swung her front door shut with all of her might. The door slammed into its frame, shaking the wall, sending vibrations through her home that caused trinkets and picture frames to shift and shake where they sat.

She raised her hands, tensing and curling her fingers, closed her eyes, and let out an angry SCREAM.

She placed her hand on her forehead in relief as the stress she was feeling began to lift from her shoulders. As she opened her eyes, she saw a pair of feet sprinting down her front stairs. She immediately put her hands out, both as an apology and to let Trubel know that she needn't panic. "No, no, Trubel. I'm sorry. I didn't know you were here."

Trubel's speed and reflexes, nearly always primed for battle, were not so primed for immediate stops when there was no battle to be had. In an attempt to halt, her bare feet slid down the stairs, stubbed her toes, and caught her heel on the edge of a step, eventually colliding with Samantha, who managed to catch her, preventing both of them from falling.

Samantha felt terrible for alarming Trubel in that way but also couldn't help but be impressed that Trubel quickly ran to aid her when she felt there was, well, trouble at hand.

She let out a small laugh as she moved her arms to hold Trubel in a way that felt more natural and, hopefully, more affectionate. "I am so sorry, Trubel. I honestly didn't know you were here. I was just really mad, and I had to let out some steam. I can't do that out in public around all my new 'employees.'

Trubel's face scrunched up as she forced Samantha to relinquish her hold. Reaching down to rub her tender toes and the heel of her foot, she asked, "Was the meeting that bad?"

Samantha's eyes widened as she blew out a sigh. "Everything was fine up until the end! We were talking, strategizing, coordinating, and doing everything we can to minimize loss of life and make sure we have transportation set up. But then the topic came up of where I'm going to be. Or rather, I asked out loud, foolishly, where it was I could set up near the site, and Alexander actually told me that was never going to happen. At first, I didn't understand what he meant. But then he said, in no uncertain terms, that I wasn't going to be anywhere near the Hexenbiests."

Trubel hobbled over the couch, sat down, and began rubbing at her feet again. Samantha followed and sat down on a chair across from her. She winced a bit as a form of apology and added the words to match, "Sorry about startling you the way I did."

Trubel shrugged, "It'll be fine. I've had much worse. So, I assume you told him that you're the boss?"

"I did!" She shook her head in disbelief. "He told me that didn't matter. He said something about how his responsibility is to keep me safe and to keep the new Wesen Council whole or something like that. I can't recall his exact words because I was shouting back that it's not his decision, it's mine."

"I assume by your 'Honey, I'm home' scream that your argument didn't go over well?"

"He and his 'security team' won't be allowing any members of the Council anywhere near the chaos that's about to ensue. A few other Council members made a fuss. Especially the one Hexenbiest we have. She really wanted to be there, too. But Alexander said I can fire him, we can threaten him, we can try to sneak around him, but he'll do everything in his power to stop us."

She bobbed her head side to side as her face wore an expression of embarrassment as she said softly, "And it's possible a small scuffle broke out..."

Trubel didn't bother to hide her disbelief, though a smile alighted her face, "I'm sorry, what was that?"

Samantha crossed her arms at her chest in defiance, but as she spoke, her voice trailed off, "There was something of a teeny-tiny confrontation."

Trubel, trying not to laugh, "Teeny-tiny? Like an infinitesimal fight?"

Samantha was still mad at what had happened, but Trubel's mirth was catching. Trying not to laugh herself, she shouted, "It's not funny!"

Trubel snorted a bit in her attempt to hold back her laughter, "So, did you start it?"

"Stop laughing! I'm not sure who started it..."

Trubel pointed at her accusingly in shock and a small amount of awe, "You did start it!"

Samantha tripped over her words for a moment, starting and stopping different forms of denials and "I'm not sure's" until she finally confessed, "Okay, maybe it was me that started it... maybe! It all happened really fast."

"One of the Council members, a Schakal, I didn't even know he was a Schakal until today, I think he might have broken his hand."

Trubel was dumbfounded, her eyes widening more than she even thought possible as she stuttered through laughter, "W-w-what?"

Samantha uncrossed her arms and threw her hands up in an attempt to express how incredibly crazy the whole event was, "It was mainly the furniture!" At Trubel's obvious expression of skepticism, Samantha continued, "Once the scuffle broke out, everyone moved forward, and the chairs were in the way, and arms were getting tied up in other arms. At some point, Michael, that's the Schakal, tripped over a chair, his leg getting tied up in the legs of that chair and the legs of people in the security detail, and then they all kinda collapsed, knocking into more chairs."

Trubel put a hand over her mouth in an attempt to make it look like she was hiding shock, but really, she was trying not to laugh more than she already had been. She put on a straight face as best she could so she could ask, "But you're okay, right?"

Samantha waived a hand dismissively, "Yeah, I'm fine. I think it's my pride that took the most damage."

Trubel leaned back on the couch and lifted her foot up, flexing her toes. "I guess it's safe to assume that you lost the argument? You're staying home tonight?"

Samantha lifted her face to look at the ceiling as a grumble of frustration filled her throat for a moment before she confessed, "Yes! I may not like it, but I get what Alexander was saying. I just didn't think I'd be having that argument at all, you know? I figured, I'm in charge. The 'Chairperson.' Not that I'm some power hungry autocrat, but when the leader of a group wants to be near the action, you kind of assume they're gonna be near the action."

Trubel shook her head, "You're better off in a place where you can issue orders as needed. If it were the seventeen hundreds and you didn't have cell phones and laptops and tablets and whatever other tech, maybe it would make sense for you to be there, but even back then, leaders would often stay behind so they could keep an eye on the big picture."

"Whatever." Samantha rolled her eyes. She hadn't wanted Trubel to agree with Alexander but also wasn't surprised. "Will you be staying in with me?" she asked hopefully.

With emphasis that it wasn't up for debate, Trubel replied, "Nope!"

Samantha's jaw dropped as a sneer formed on her face, "What?"

Trubel replied as though it was incredibly obvious, "I have to support Nick."

The hair on Samantha's arms lifted as goosebumps ran over her body. Trubel's love and sincere devotion to her adopted father would never cease to impress her. Nonetheless there was an irrefutable truth that Samantha had to say out loud, "I don't want you to go. But... I won't fight you about it."

Trubel lifted her eyebrows and in mock fear countered, "Well, I'm glad I won't have to go toe-to-toe with you... and your hand shattering anger."

Samantha did her best to look stern, but she couldn't hide her smile completely as she admonished, "Not. Funny."