Grimm: The Killing Time (18 page)

The
Ewig Woge
was worse than they’d thought. If it could cause a normally peaceful being like a Seelengut to savagely attack someone, how much more would it do to predatory Wesen? If affected Wesen couldn’t control themselves, predators or not, how safe would the Hafen be? The Wesen might well have been safer if they’d remained in their own homes behind locked doors, isolated from one another. Even now dozens, maybe hundreds of Wesen were heading out of town to Forest Park to what they thought was a safe refuge. But instead they could be heading to a killing field.

My God
, he thought.
We’ve made a terrible mistake.

Hank had moved near Donald and was crouched down, checking the Klaustreich’s injuries. He kept several feet back to better avoid a claw strike should the Wesen lash out in pain or anger. Donald moaned, and he was bleeding from his now swollen and misshapen nose, but he sat up and waved Hank away, as if to say he didn’t need any help. His claws had retracted—at least for now—which Nick took as a hopeful sign.

Nick was trying to decide how best to handle the situation before it deteriorated any further, when Allison looked at him with dawning recognition.

“You’re the Grimm!” she said, voice quavering.

“He is?” Donald jumped to his feet in a fluid motion, only to let out a particularly colorful curse word when he tried to put weight on his injured knee. He narrowed his eyes and extended his claws once more. “You killed those two Skalengeck kids in the alley.”

Nick wondered how Donald had heard about the teens’ deaths. Maybe their families—distraught and angry—had found the graffiti and spread the word.
The wonders of modern technology
, he thought. Information—too often, incorrect information—spread even faster these days than something like the
Ewig Woge
.

“No, that wasn’t me,” he said. “In fact, my partner and I were called out to investigate their murders.”

“That’s right,” Hank said.

“Bullshit,” Donald said, then spat a glob of blood onto the sidewalk. “You stay the hell away from me!”

He turned and started hobbling away as fast as he could on his bad knee, throwing glances over his shoulder to make sure Nick wasn’t following him.

Allison stomped hard on Nick’s foot then, and he released his grip on her out of reflex. She ran in the same direction as Donald, now more afraid of Nick than the Klaustreich that had tormented her.

Hank walked over to join Nick.

“That looked like it hurt.”

Nick flexed his toes within his shoe and grimaced. “It did. I don’t think anything’s broken, though.”

For several moments the two men watched the Wesen retreat down the sidewalk. Eventually, Donald turned a corner, but Allison kept going straight.

“At least we don’t have to worry about those two getting into another fight,” Hank said.

“Not with each other, anyway,” Nick said, then he sighed. “The longer this night goes on, the worse things get.”

Hank nodded. “It’s only a matter of time before the situation gets seriously out of hand—if it hasn’t already.”

“I think we should check in with the Captain and see what he thinks.”

Nick took his phone from his pocket, but before he could call Renard, he saw that he’d received a text. It must’ve come while they’ve been dealing with Allison and Donald, or else he would’ve heard the alert tone. He checked the message and saw it was from Juliette. It was brief, and as he read the words, he felt an icy hand close around his heart.

“What?” Hank said. “Is something wrong?”

Nick didn’t answer. He ran toward the Charger, and Hank followed.

Juliette’s first impulse was to jump off the couch and run for the front door, but she didn’t give in to it. She knew that there was no way she could outrun the Wechselbalg, especially if he possessed Nick’s speed and reflexes. So while she was far from calm inside, she did her best to keep her emotions from showing on her face.

The Wechselbalg walked toward her, a coldness in his eyes like nothing she’d ever seen in Nick—
her
Nick—before.

“I know what it’s like,” she said.

The Wechselbalg stopped and regarded her, curiosity now joining the coldness in his gaze.

Juliette hurried on. “I don’t know how many of Nick’s memories you were able to duplicate, but it’s obvious that you didn’t get all of them. I saw the way you were walking around the room, looking at things, touching them, as if you almost remembered them but didn’t quite.”

The Wechselbalg continued to look at her in silence. He didn’t start advancing toward her again, though, and she was encouraged enough to keep talking.

“I know what it’s like to grope for memories that seem just out of reach. Something happened to me a while back, and I fell into a coma. When I came out of it, I couldn’t remember anything about Nick. Not a single detail about our relationship or about him as a person. I felt like something was missing, but I didn’t know what. Nick and our friends told me what had happened, and while I believed them, I still couldn’t remember Nick. It was so bizarre to meet a stranger who everyone believes is your fiancé. Everyone but you, that is.”

She paused to gauge the Wechselbalg’s reaction to her words. The shapeshifter’s face displayed no sign of emotion, but his gaze showed continued curiosity mixed with wariness. And was there a little hope present as well? Maybe.

Juliette went on.

“My memories of Nick returned eventually, but I still remember what it was like to
not
remember him, if that makes sense. Sometimes it almost feels like I’m two different people, and I’m not sure who the real me is. It must be so much worse for you.”

She paused again to give the Wechselbalg a chance to reply. Several moments passed in silence, and she began to think he would never speak. But then softly, hesitantly, he started talking.

“I am always two people, although I try very hard to talk, act, and think like the person whose body I wear. The memories I… acquire from others are never complete, but usually they are sufficient for my needs. But not this time. Nick Burkhardt’s memories are incomplete and hazy. Whenever I try to grab hold of them, they squirm out of my fingers, like tiny fish that swim rapidly away. It’s most frustrating.”

“I imagine it is,” Juliette said.

“I am trying to do a good job of being Nick Burkhardt, but without greater access to his memories, it is difficult.” The Wechselbalg brightened. “But you can help me! You are Nick’s fiancée. You know him better than anyone. You can remember
for
me!”

He took a step closer, and Juliette had to fight to keep from flinching. She didn’t want to show fear. She wanted to keep the Wechselbalg relaxed and talking until Nick got there. She forced herself to smile.

“I’ll be happy to tell you anything you want to know.”

The Wechselbalg smiled back at her, but then he frowned.

“Something doesn’t feel right about this.”

Juliette cursed inwardly. The Wechselbalg might be mentally confused, but he still had Nick’s instincts and intuition. He could sense her deception, even if he wasn’t aware of exactly what he sensed.

“I
am
scared a little,” she said. “It’s not every day that you meet a Wesen who looks like your fiancé.”

A look of concern came over the Wechselbalg’s face.

“Please don’t worry, Juliette. I wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt you. Now that Nick is gone, I
am
Nick.” He tried to give her what she assumed was meant to be a reassuring smile, but it seemed artificial and devoid of any real emotion, like a mannequin.

He doesn’t know that Nick’s alive
, she thought. And why would he? Up to this point in the Wechselbalg’s life, none of the people it duplicated had survived the process. This was good. The Wechselbalg had no reason to suspect Nick was on his way—she
hoped
he was on his way—and therefore he had no reason to flee.

“I’ll try not to be afraid,” she said, and managed another smile.

“Good.”

The Wechselbalg walked over to the couch and sat next to her. There were only a couple inches between them, and her proximity to the creature made her skin crawl. Her senses told her this was Nick. He looked and sounded like Nick. But her mind knew that he was a killer who stole the form and memories of his victims. And he would’ve killed Nick if he could have. He thought he had. And now here he was, sitting next to her as if were the most normal thing in the world. She hoped he wouldn’t try to touch her. She didn’t think she’d be able to stand that.

“I’ve never had anyone to talk to about these things,” the Wechselbalg said. “And I never thought I’d find anyone who understood what it’s like.” He gave her a tentative, shy smile.

“I promise I’ll do my best to understand everything,” she said.

“Wechselbalgen live lonely lives, and we live much longer than ordinary humans or Wesen. Because of this, we reproduce rarely. I have no memory of my parents or of any siblings. We rarely encounter others of our kind. I don’t think there are many of us.”

“How do you recognize each other?”

“We automatically woge in one another’s presence if we are close enough. The last time I saw another of my kind was…” The Wechselbalg trailed off as he thought. “In Krakow. Sometime in the early 1800s, I think. I can’t recall the exact date.”

He fell silent for a time after that, but since Juliette didn’t feel any tension from him, she sat quietly and waited to see if he would continue speaking. Eventually, he did.

“All Wesen blend in to survive, but my kind goes a step further. We
become
humans, both on the outside and on the inside. We’re so good at it that after a while we almost forget we’re Wechselbalgen. Until our bodies begin to return to our natural state. Then we find someone else to join with.”

Join?
Juliette thought.
You mean copy and kill.

“It takes years before that happens. Sometimes decades. At least, it used to. It happens faster for me now. Much faster. I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because I’m so old, eh?” He chuckled. “But
this
one—” He slapped his chest so hard that it made Juliette jump. “This body is strong. Sturdy. I think it will last a long time. I hope so, anyway.”

If she hadn’t known Nick was alive, she would’ve been sickened to hear the Wechselbalg talk about his duplicated body as casually as this. As it was, it still made her uncomfortable.

“I can think better in this body, too.” He frowned. “Not as clearly as I used to, but good. Better than in years. And I can do things I never could before.”

Without warning, he leaped off the couch, sprang into the air, came down to perform a graceful somersault, and then rose to his feet. He spun around to face her and raised his hands as if he were a gymnast who’d just finished a particularly difficult routine.

“Ta-dah!” he said, then grinned.

Juliette hesitated for a half second before applauding. She smiled as if delighted by the trick, but inside she was realizing that, at least on one level, the Wechselbalg was little more than a child. It made sense, since humans suffering from dementia often displayed regressive childlike behavior. But when the person who displayed these symptoms was Wesen—and a Wesen who’d duplicated a Grimm’s body—that situation couldn’t be more dangerous. There was no predicting what the creature might do, or how much further its mental state might deteriorate in the hours ahead. From what the Wechselbalg had said, he’d been burning through bodies rapidly over the last several years. Duplicating Nick’s Grimm physiology might make the Wechselbalg’s current body last longer than usual, but it wasn’t a real Grimm’s body, just a copy. And given how much the Wechselbalg had declined over the years, it probably wasn’t all that stable a copy. It was only a matter of time before the Wechselbalg began to have a meltdown—literally. The only question was how many people he would kill before then.

“What else can you do?” Juliette asked.

The Wechselbalg shrugged. “I’m not really sure. I haven’t had much of a chance to find out.”

Without warning, he dove to the floor, pressed his palms on the carpet, and straightened his legs into the air. He held this position seemingly without effort, and Juliette had the impression that he might be able to do so for hours. He then lifted his right arm and stretched it out to the side, supporting himself entirely with his left. Then he reversed the action, holding out his left arm while supporting himself with his right. She could see that holding himself up one-handed did take a bit of effort, but not much. He then put both hands down and allowed his legs to fall backward, and he assumed a standing position once more.

Juliette dutifully clapped. This time the Wechselbalg executed a self-mocking bow, the gesture so like something Nick would’ve done that it made her gasp.

She felt sorry for the Wechselbalg then. It was one thing to lose a large chunk of memory, as she had for a time, but what was it like to have no identity of your own? To always pretend to be something you weren’t? To never be able to share your most private thoughts and feelings without exposing yourself as a monster? The loneliness, the sense of isolation and dislocation, were beyond imagining.

The Wechselbalg returned to the couch and sat next to her once more.

“What do you want to do now?” he asked.

He’s like a kid on a playground who’s just made a new friend
, she thought.

She told herself not to be fooled, though. As a vet, she knew that even the sweetest-seeming animal could turn vicious in an instant, given the right circumstances. The Wechselbalg might not be an animal, but he was a proven killer, and she couldn’t afford to let her guard down even for a second.

“We could watch TV,” Juliette suggested. “Or maybe play a board game. Nick doesn’t like board games as much as I do, but he humors me.”

She knew she’d said the wrong thing even before she finished speaking. The Wechselbalg’s brow furrowed, and his lips pressed into a tight line.

“
I’m
Nick,” he said. His words were spoken softly, and were all the more threatening for it.