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Authors: Tim Waggoner

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BOOK: Grimm: The Killing Time
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Rosalee stepped closer to him and reached out to take hold of his hands in an attempt to calm him—and to keep him from further damaging the counter. Monroe’s head snapped to the side to face her. His eyes blazed with anger and his lips curled back to display his fangs. Juliette was so startled that she took several steps away from the counter without realizing she’d done so. Rosalee, however, showed no sign of fear. She kept one hand on Monroe’s, but with the other she reached up and scratched behind his left ear. If Juliette hadn’t been so frightened by Monroe’s outburst, she might have found the scene amusing. But as it was, she was just glad that Rosalee’s soothing gesture seemed to do the trick.

Monroe’s brow smoothed and his lips relaxed and once more covered his teeth. His gaze still held a hint of menace, but it was subdued, distant. In her veterinary practice, Juliette had a great deal of experience calming scared and aggressive animals, but she doubted she’d be able to work up the courage to calm an enraged Blutbad. But then Rosalee had a huge advantage: she was, after all, Monroe’s mate.

When she pulled her hand away from Monroe’s ear, he gently took hold of it and kissed her palm.

“Thanks,” he said.

Rosalee smiled as Monroe continued to hold her hand.

“I take it my special tea isn’t doing its job,” she said.

He sighed deeply. “The sad thing is, it
is
working. Without it, I’d be even worse.” He turned to look at Juliette, his eyes filled with shame. “I’m so sorry, Juliette. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I know,” she said. Mentally, she added,
And that scares me even more.
How much worse would it be if he completely lost control? And if he did, how far would he go before Rosalee could stop him—if she could? She’d assured Nick that she’d be fine with Monroe and Rosalee, and at the time, she’d believed it. But now she was beginning to wish she’d made a different choice.

She was debating whether it would be safer for her to leave—and maybe easier for Monroe if she wasn’t around to irritate him unnecessarily—when the door to the shop opened.

Everyone froze. Juliette felt so stupid. With Monroe and Rosalee woged, they should’ve locked the door to make certain no one came in and saw them. But with everything that had been going on tonight, they’d all forgotten. When Juliette saw who entered, she felt an equal mixture of relief and surprise.

Sean Renard stepped into the shop and immediately turned and locked the door behind him. That was Renard, she thought. Intelligent and secretive.

Renard was a Zauberbiest—the male equivalent of a Hexenbiest—and his ravaged face spoke of his heritage. He might be half-Wesen technically, but he looked all Wesen now. Juliette’s stomach flipped when she saw Renard’s Zauberbiest features. It was like seeing the Phantom of the Opera without his mask. It didn’t help that when Renard had used an elixir to wake her from a coma induced by Adalind Schade, they’d become physically and emotionally bonded somehow. It had taken some time for that condition to run its course, but no matter how strong the attraction had become, Renard had fought to keep from taking advantage of her. She deeply appreciated that and respected him for it. But she still wasn’t comfortable around him, and she doubted she’d ever be, at least not entirely.

Before he said anything, he stopped and sniffed the air. Then he looked over at the shattered glass and powdery-liquid mess on the floor, next to the book Monroe had thrown. His upper lip curled in distaste, and while Juliette could smell nothing from where she stood, she knew Renard—although farther away from the mess—could smell it far more intensely. And from his reaction, he didn’t appreciate the odor. From what she understood, Hexenbiester and Zauberbiester were incredibly sensitive to chemical substances. This ability allowed them to create potions and elixirs that could dramatically alter a person’s biochemistry. They were also sensitive to various forms of energy, which allowed them to influence magnetic and electrical fields to achieve feats that seemed almost supernatural. Of course, these abilities were honed with training and practice, and while Juliette had no idea if Renard had ever received such training, she wasn’t about to ask him any time soon. But given his sensitivity—especially now that he was affected by the
Ewig Woge
—being in the spice shop surrounded by hundreds of different substances and their smells must have been almost intolerable for him.

Renard shook his head as if to clear it, and looked at Monroe and Rosalee.

“I’m relieved to see I’m not the only one having trouble changing back,” he said.

Before Juliette or Rosalee could speak, Monroe began growling deep in his throat, gaze locked on Renard, teeth bared. Renard locked eyes with him, and while he didn’t make a sound, he lowered his arms to his sides, hands open, and he widened his stance. Juliette realized he was preparing to fight.

“Monroe, what are you—” Rosalee reached out to touch him as she spoke, but Monroe batted her hand aside. With a single graceful move, he leaped onto the countertop and crouched there, leaning forward slightly, growling louder.

Rosalee looked to Juliette with an expression of alarm. As far as Juliette knew, Monroe and Renard had nothing against each other. They were hardly friends—little more than acquaintances, really—but they were far from enemies.

It’s the Ewig Woge
, she realized. It had strengthened Monroe’s territorial instincts, and he now saw Renard as an intruder who must be challenged. As for Renard… Juliette knew very little about Zauberbiester, other than that they were reputed to be scheming and calculating, as well as stronger and faster than humans. But even if Renard didn’t possess deep-rooted animal instincts prompting his actions while in Wesen form, it seemed obvious that he had no intention of backing down from Monroe’s challenge.

Monroe’s muscles began to coil, and Juliette knew he was seconds away from springing toward Renard. Not knowing what else to do, she ran forward and put herself between them. An instant later, Rosalee rushed out from behind the counter and joined her. The women stood back-to-back, arms outstretched and hands held palms up.

“You don’t want to do this,” Juliette said, trying to keep her tone as neutral as possible to avoid setting off either man. “You’re both being affected by exposure to the Wechselbalg’s hormone. Not only is it keeping you woged, it’s making you hyper-aggressive.”

“You both need to calm down before someone gets hurt,” Rosalee added. “And before my shop gets wrecked even more than it already is.”

Rosalee practically growled her words, and Juliette knew that she was fighting her own aggressive feelings. It appeared her “soothing tea” couldn’t stand up to a concentrated assault of enhanced woge hormone combined with adrenaline.

Neither Monroe nor Renard appeared to have heard the two women. They continued glaring at each other. Monroe continued growling, even louder now, and Renard made a continuous sound, eerie and disturbing, a cross between a wordless deep tone and a serpent’s hiss.

“It’s like we’re not even here,” Juliette said.

“Then maybe we need to work a little harder to get their attention,” Rosalee said. She smiled at Juliette, revealing teeth that were less prominent than Monroe’s, but just as sharp.

Juliette found her friend’s smile disquieting, but she returned it, and then the two women started walking. Rosalee toward Monroe and Juliette toward Renard. Renard didn’t look at Juliette as she approached, nor did he react in any way when she stopped within a few inches of him. She raised her hand and then slapped his face as hard as she could. She heard her slap echoed, and she knew that Rosalee had done the same thing to Monroe. Her hand hurt like hell, but she ignored the sting and kept her gaze focused on Renard’s eyes. If her slap had caused him any pain, he didn’t show it. But he did look at her, his upper lip curled in a snarl, and he raised his hand as if to return the strike.

Juliette showed no fear as she said, “Do it and I guarantee you’ll regret it. In all kinds of ways.”

Renard continued glaring at her, his hand trembling, and for an instant she thought he would strike her. But then he sighed and lowered his hand. When she was confident the moment of danger had passed, she glanced toward Rosalee and Monroe. He was sitting on the counter now, legs dangling over the side, hugging Rosalee, no longer growling.

The door opened then and Nick and Hank entered. The two men stopped when they saw the tableau before them.

“Uh… Did we miss something?” Nick asked.

Juliette smiled.

CHAPTER EIGHT

“So you’ve made
no
progress on finding a treatment?” Renard asked, his usually controlled voice tinged with impatience.

Monroe scowled. “Pardon us for not having everything figured out in a couple hours,” he said, his voice close to a growl.

Monroe and Renard had remained relatively calm since Nick and Hank’s arrival, but the two men had hair-trigger tempers right now. Nick knew it was due to the
Ewig Woge
, but that didn’t make it any less irritating.

Everyone had taken up different positions in the spice shop, as if claiming their territory. Monroe and Rosalee remained behind the counter, Renard stood a dozen feet away, and Nick, Juliette, and Hank stood between them, acting as a buffer. At least, Nick hoped they were. The last thing Rosalee needed was for Monroe and Renard to start fighting. There had already been enough damage to her shop tonight as it was. More importantly, Nick feared the two men wouldn’t have any restraint thanks to the
Ewig Woge
, and both of them could be seriously hurt if they fought. Nick had no idea who would win in a battle between Monroe and Renard, but he didn’t want to find out. He wondered how many similar scenes were playing out in Portland tonight. Family and friends affected by the
Ewig Woge
who were struggling to keep from attacking one another. Struggling, and maybe failing. And while he and the others stood around the shop bickering, the
Ewig Woge
continued to spread.

“This is a disaster,” Renard said. “The longer Wesen remain fully woged, the greater the chance we’ll be exposed. And if those of us with more… aggressive natures keep getting worse, before long the city will start experiencing a level of violence like it’s never seen before.”

“You make it sound like it’s some kind of Wesen apocalypse,” Hank said.

“In a very real sense it is,” Renard said. “According to Grimm lore, the
Ewig Woge
last hit in a time when travel wasn’t nearly as easy as it is today. People can cross the globe in a matter of hours now. It’s conceivable this condition could spread to every Wesen on the planet, and faster than we think.”

“Maybe that would be a good thing,” Juliette said. Everyone turned to look at her.

“I mean, Wesen have been keeping their existence a secret from humans… well, forever. The
Ewig Woge
could bring that to an end. Wesen wouldn’t have to hide anymore.”

“It’s a nice thought,” Rosalee said. “And there are a lot of modern Wesen who hope that one day we’ll be able to live openly among humans.”

“But that day’s not here yet,” Monroe said. “Especially if the
Ewig Woge
makes
some
of us a little hard to get along with.” He glanced at Renard.

Renard scowled at Monroe, but he didn’t take the bait.

“With all the problems there are in the world today, the last thing humanity needs is to learn that there’s been a race of shapeshifting beings living alongside them in secret,” Renard said. “We’d be hunted like never before. It’d be like the entire human race had become Grimms.”

“Okay, I get the point,” Hank said. “So what can we do to keep things from getting that bad?”

“Maybe it’s time to start thinking about using the Hafen,” Nick said.

Juliette gave him a puzzled look, and he quickly explained to her what a Hafen was.

“Dawn is still several hours off,” Monroe said. “It’s a perfect time for people to head for the forest. They won’t be seen. But a lot of people are going to call in sick to work and school tomorrow, enough to be noticed.”

“We can cover it up with a story about a bad flu strain hitting Portland,” Renard said. “It’s close enough to the truth.”

“None of that’s important now,” Nick said. “First we have to start spreading the word that people need to head for the Hafen.”

“That won’t be hard,” Monroe said. “Each of us has a call list. We call five people, they call five people, and within a couple of hours, Portland’s Wesen will be on the road to Forest Park.”

“All the Wesen who are on the lists,” Rosalee said.

“And who get the call,” Juliette added.

“I’ve got Wesen connections throughout Portland,” Renard said. “Uniformed officers, firefighters, paramedics, sanitation workers… They can remain in the city to keep an eye out for any Wesen suffering from
Ewig Woge
who don’t get the message to go to the Hafen.” He turned to Nick and Hank. “And you two can keep working on trying to track down the Wechselbalg.”

Nick nodded.

“You have to do whatever it takes to stop the Wechselbalg,” Rosalee said. “I know that. But try your best not to kill it. We may need some of its substance in order to make a cure for the
Ewig Woge
.”

“We’ll take him alive if we can,” Nick said. If it came down to killing the Wechselbalg to save an innocent life, he’d do it, no question. Otherwise, he’d try his damnedest to bring the shapeshifter in alive.

Rosalee nodded. “Okay. While you’re out chasing the Wechselbalg, Monroe and I will stay here and keep searching for some kind of treatment for the
Ewig Woge
.”


After
we call the people on our lists,” Monroe said. Rosalee smiled at him and nodded.

“I can stay and help you,” Juliette said, and then she yawned.

“You’ve been on your feet for almost twenty hours,” Nick said. “You should go home and get some sleep.”

“All of
you
are tired too,” she protested.

“Not really,” Rosalee said. “The
Ewig Woge
is acting like a stimulant on our systems. But if we do find a treatment for it, I may need some ingredients that I don’t have on hand. That means I’ll need someone who isn’t an
Ewig Woge
-affected Wesen to go pick them up for me. You should get some rest now, so you’ll be more alert later, when we’ll need you.”

BOOK: Grimm: The Killing Time
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