Grimm: The Killing Time (25 page)

Monroe continually scented the air as they traveled, his inhalations and exhalations indistinguishable from the gentle night breeze. It was important they move as silently as possible, in order to avoid alerting any of the Hafen’s outer guards. As Monroe and Rosalee had explained it, Portland’s Hafen was located in a clearing created and maintained by Wildermanner, the nature-loving Wesen responsible for the stories of Bigfoot and other legends of bestial wild men. Once people began arriving at the Hafen, volunteers would guard the clearing’s inner perimeter, while other Wesen would patrol the woods surrounding the Hafen. This set-up was standard procedure, and although in this case the Wesen sought refuge because of the
Ewig Woge
rather than as protection from human hunters—
or Grimms
, Nick thought—they still maintained guard. Nick was glad they were cautious. As difficult as their wariness was making it for him and Monroe to approach the Hafen, it would hopefully do the same for the Wechselbalg.

Monroe held up a hand. Nick froze and listened. He heard Monroe breathing, along with the muffled sound of the Blutbad’s heart. It pounded faster than when Monroe was in human form, but Nick had been around a woged Monroe enough to know that was normal. He heard the wind gently rustling leaves, but that was the extent of the night sounds. He heard no animals moving, no birds chirping. It was possible their presence had frightened the forest creatures into silence, but it was equally possible that someone else had scared them, too. Someone Nick would rather avoid meeting.

The two men listened for several moments, and just when Nick had decided it was a false alarm, a shadowy figure moved between a pair of trees less than a dozen yards ahead of them. It happened so fast that at first Nick wasn’t sure he’d seen anything. But then Monroe leaned his mouth close to Nick’s ear and breathed a single word.

“Lowen.”

Nick tensed, and his senses sharpened even further as he strained to detect the lion-like Wesen. Lowen had an especially keen sense of smell, almost equal to that of Blutbaden, and if the wind had been blowing in a different direction, the Lowen would’ve scented them by now. Nick wasn’t worried about a single Lowen. Well, not much. He and Monroe could handle the lion-man. The problem was the amount of noise they’d make in the process. They’d alert any nearby patrolling Wesen to their presence, and they’d swiftly converge on them. Nick wanted to avoid hurting anyone if at all possible. These Wesen were simply trying to keep themselves safe while they suffered from the
Ewig Woge
. But the condition had likely heightened the Lowen’s bestial nature and made him or her highly aggressive. If the Lowen detected them, it would attack first and pause to ask questions only after they were dead. Nick was here to stop the Wechselbalg from killing. He didn’t want to add to the night’s already high body count.

Several moments passed without any sight of the Lowen, and Monroe turned to Nick and gave him a thumbs up to indicate they were in the clear.

That’s when Nick heard the twig snap behind them.

“Let me do the talking,” Rosalee said.

“No problem,’ Juliette replied.

The two women walked side by side down the path, Hank and Renard following behind. Neither man said anything, and although Juliette couldn’t see them, she attributed their silence to wariness. Both were no doubt scanning the woods on either side of the path, alert for the least sign of trouble.

Renard had driven them to Forest Park, and he’d parked his vehicle at the end of a long line of cars, pickups, SUV’s, and motorcycles. The other vehicles were covered by foliage and tree branches, placed so expertly that Juliette wouldn’t have been able to detect them if she’d hadn’t been so close. As they’d disembarked, a fully woged Wildermann emerged from between a pair of trees as if materializing out of thin air. He emitted a not altogether unpleasant odor of fresh green leaves and rich soil. Juliette wondered if he smelled like this because of how much time he spent in the woods, or if his scent was natural protective camouflage. He carried an armful of branches and leaves and immediately began concealing Renard’s vehicle. The Wildermann said nothing, but he gave Juliette and Hank a scowl before setting to work.

All of them carried various supplies. Rosalee and Juliette carried cloth bags filled with jars containing a special endorphin-enhancing paste that Rosalee had made. Juliette wasn’t sure what was in it, but she understood much of it was comprised of ingredients that were especially effective for elevating endorphin levels in Wesen. Hank wore a backpack and Renard carried a large plastic cooler, both containing supplies Rosalee needed to make a cure for the
Ewig Woge
. Concealed within a hidden pocket inside Hank’s backpack were Hank and Renard’s guns. Rosalee had said that weapons were forbidden in the Hafen, and there was no way any of them would be permitted to enter if even one of their party was armed.

Both Rosalee and Renard had a small amount of endorphin-enhancing paste smeared beneath their noses, and while the treatment helped keep the worst emotional effects of the
Ewig Woge
at bay, it could only do so much. Renard carried the heavily laden cooler with ease in his Wesen form, but his brow was wrinkled in a constant frown, and he ground his teeth as they walked, both signs that he was struggling to keep a rein on his aggressive feelings. Rosalee seemed to fare better, but her nose kept twitching, and her breathing was even more rapid than usual for her while she was in full Fuchsbau mode. Juliette feared that both Rosalee and Renard—and presumably Monroe as well—were getting close to reaching their breaking points, when their control would snap and their Wesen halves would assume full control. If everyone in the Hafen was in similar condition, they had little time remaining to act. As bad as it would be if the Wechselbalg started killing Wesen in the Hafen, it would be nothing compared to the wholesale slaughter if the Wesen turned on one another.

The tree canopy grew thicker the farther they walked, until it blocked the night sky. Juliette could see almost nothing as they continued walking through the forest, and she assumed the same was true for Hank. Rosalee—and maybe Renard—had better night vision in Wesen form, and she trusted them to spot any potential danger. Still, it was nerve-wracking walking through darkness, knowing they were approaching a group of woged Wesen on the verge of being overwhelmed by their savage sides.

They walked for a quarter mile or so before the path narrowed to a trail; they continued down it, walking single file now. After a time, Juliette became aware of the smell of campfire smoke, and she saw what she thought were hints of orange-yellow light between the trees.

She was startled when a shadowy figure detached itself from the surrounding darkness and stepped onto the trail ahead of them. As first she feared it was the Wechselbalg, but then she smelled green leaves and turned earth, and she knew the being that confronted them was another Wildermann. There was an additional scent—a lighter, almost fruity one—and Juliette wondered if this was a female Wildermann. A Wilderfrau?

The Wildermann stood silently and waited. Rosalee stepped forward, bowed her head, then whispered a phrase in German. The Wildermann’s reply came in English, his—or her—voice deep and gravelly.

“Who are they?”

The Wildermann didn’t say the word
humans
, but Juliette knew that’s what was meant.

“They are Kehrseite-Schlich-Kennen,” Rosalee said. “They’ve come to help me cure the woge sickness.”

The Wildermann blinked in surprise. “Can you really do that, Rosalee?”

Juliette was only a little surprised that Rosalee and the Wildermann knew each other. Even near-hermits like Wildermann had medical needs.

“I hope so, Lee.”

The Wildermann nodded, then pointed at Rosalee’s bag, and she held it out for inspection. The Wildermann took a quick look, and then did the same for the others. The Wildermann gave Renard a scowling look before inspecting the cooler. Juliette didn’t know if that was because the Wildermann knew Renard was a member of the Royal Family or because he was a Zauberbiest. There were several tense moments as the Wildermann examined the contents of Hank’s backpack, but the guard spent no more time checking it out than the others, and Juliette did her best not to look relieved.

The Wildermann stepped aside, took hold of a low-hanging branch of what appeared to be an ordinary tree, and pulled. The tree—along with the underbrush that surrounded it—slid easily across the ground, revealing a narrow opening. Firelight spilled through, illuminating the Wildermann’s features. He—or she—was tall, broad-shouldered, well-muscled, and just as shaggy as the one they’d encountered when they’d parked. But the Wildermann moved with a certain grace that strengthened Juliette’s suspicions that it was female. In the firelight, Juliette could see that the tree the Wildermann had pulled to the side wasn’t full length. It had been cut off at ten feet and mounted on a flat wood-and-metal framework. Juliette assumed the tree had been hollowed out as well to make it easier to move. But then again, it might not be hollow. Wildermanner were
very
strong, after all.

The four of them stepped through the opening and into a clearing. Juliette glanced back over her shoulder to watch the Wildermann replace the camouflage. Once it was in place, she couldn’t tell it apart from the trees on either side of it.

The clearing appeared to be almost perfectly circular, and the trees that ringed its circumference were in their prime—thick, tall, and stately. The spaces between them were filled with dense underbrush, including wicked-looking thorn bushes. In the center of the clearing was a large stone slab, carved so that its top and sides were flat and smooth. It looked like some kind of platform or dais to Juliette, and according to Rosalee, it was a place for a speaker to stand and address the Hafen. Small campfires dotted the clearing, and groups of woged Wesen stood around them, watching the flames silently or talking in hushed voices. Juliette was surprised that the Wesen would take the risk of alerting potential enemies to their presence by lighting fires. But then she realized that these Wesen had come here not to hide from a threat, but rather as a kind of quarantine, to have a place to conceal from the outer world the effects of the
Ewig Woge
. A serious situation to be sure, but—as far as they knew—not an immediately dangerous one. So why not have a few fires for warmth, light, and whatever psychological comfort they might bring?

A number of tents had been erected, and sleeping bags were spread out on the ground. No one was lying down, though, and Juliette would bet that most of the tents were empty, too. Everyone would be much too anxious to remain confined in small spaces. She had never seen so many woged Wesen before, and though she tried not to stare, she couldn’t help herself. She recognized some types. Blutbaden, of course, along with Fuchsbau and Eisbiber. Others she’d only heard about, such as Bauerschwein, Mauzhertzen, Seelenguter, Skalengecken, and Jagerbaren. But there were many others that she didn’t recognize, some of which bore only a passing human resemblance. Seeing them all together like this was like something out of a nightmare, and although Juliette reminded herself that these were intelligent beings much like she or Hank, she couldn’t help feeling afraid.

There were just as many children as adults, if not more. Most of the young Wesen stood in small cliques or sat cross-legged on the ground, playing games on their phones or tablets. Seeing them alleviated some of her fear. No matter the species, kids were kids. Some of the younger children were still in human form. Wesen developed the ability to woge in youth, but it hit some earlier than others. Obviously, those children who hadn’t started to change yet had been unaffected by the
Ewig Woge
.

The atmosphere in the makeshift camp was already thick with tension, and Juliette and the others only made it worse with their entrance. Heads turned as they walked into the Hafen, brows furrowed, eyes glared, lips curled back from teeth, and the air filled with growls, hisses, and snarls.

It’s because of Hank and me
, she thought, and she wondered if it would’ve been better if the two of them had remained behind.

A Bauerschwein stepped forward and blocked their way. He was short and stout, but while he had a bit of a pot belly, he looked like he was made of more muscle than fat. His brow was thick and pronounced, he was bald, and he possessed a porcine snout and ears. His lower teeth jutted out almost like tusks. He wore a dark blue uniform with stitching on the right breast that identified him as an employee of First-Rate Security. Juliette glanced to see if he carried a gun, but all he had was a flashlight holstered to his belt. That was a relief.

The Bauerschwein gave Juliette and Hank a dark look before addressing Rosalee.

“What are these two doing here?”

“
These two
have names,” Hank said.

The Bauerschwein snorted, but didn’t look away from Rosalee. Before she could answer his question, though, he sniffed the air, and his scowl—which Juliette believed was likely a permanent part of his expression—deepened.

“You smell of Blutbad.” His tone made it sound like an accusation.

Pigs had a tremendous sense of smell, Juliette knew, and it seemed Bauerschwein were no different. Bauerschwein also had a longstanding antipathy to Blutbaden. Not a good combination.

Rosalee’s lips drew back from her teeth.

“You smell like a lot of things, but I’m too polite to mention it.”

It wasn’t like Rosalee to snap like that—not that Juliette blamed her.

A second Wesen stepped forward to join the Bauerschwein. The woman wore a faded jean jacket over a white T-shirt, tight jeans, and worn boots. Juliette didn’t recognize the type of Wesen she was. Some sort of feline variety, and from the tawny fur on her face and hands, Juliette guessed she was related to the cougar. She had a long mass of curly brown hair that spilled over her shoulders. But instead of making her seem more human, the hair only accentuated her animal appearance.