Grimm: The Killing Time (3 page)

Nick removed his hands from the Jagerbaren’s chests and started walking toward the door without another glance at them. Nick knew he was taking a gamble by turning his back on the cousins. Without him standing between them, one or both might decide this was an opportunity to catch the other off guard. Or they might decide to attack him inside the bar, hoping to gain an advantage by surprise. But Nick had something going for him that the Jagerbaren didn’t. He had a partner. He knew Hank would watch the Jagerbaren for any sign that they intended to renege on their agreement. And even though Nick knew the last thing Hank would do was draw his Glock in here—not with so many bystanders—the cousins didn’t know that. And while Jagerbaren might be tough, they weren’t bulletproof.

Nick also had a personal reason for wanting to take the fight outside. Not long ago, he’d encountered a Wesen who called himself Baron Samedhi, after the legendary voodoo priest. Samedhi had been a Cracher-Mortel, a puffer-fish-like creature that could spit a type of venom that put its victims into a deathlike state. But the venom had a different effect on Nick due to his Grimm physiology, and he’d become an enraged, near-mindless madman, wandering through the city at random and committing acts of violence. His memories of that time were hazy at best, but he knew that he’d gone into a bar and, predictably enough, a fight had broken out. One of the patrons there that night had pulled a knife on him, and Nick—unable to exert any sort of self-control—had hit the man with all his strength. The strength of a Grimm. The man had died, and even though Nick knew that it was a terrible accident, the incident still weighed heavily on him. If he had to fight tonight, he wasn’t going to do it inside a bar. No way.

Nick pushed open the bar door and stepped out into the night. The cool air came as a relief after the stuffiness inside. He looked up, hoping to see stars, but the cloud cover was heavy. Typical for this time of year. He smiled. All in all, not a bad night to fight a couple of monsters.

He continued into the parking lot. He heard the door open again, and he glanced over his shoulder to see Josef and Thorsten following. Hank came after them, followed by Beverly and then Sylvia. No one else came outside, and Nick was glad. The last thing he wanted was an audience who didn’t understand what was really going on. He could see the headline in tomorrow’s
Tribune:
PORTLAND POLICE OFFICER IN BAR BRAWL! Captain Renard would just
love
that.

Nick picked a spot where there was enough empty space to give him room to maneuver, and sufficient illumination from a nearby streetlight to see clearly. In a fight, every little advantage mattered. He turned around, and as if that was signal, the two cousins started running toward him, hands curled into fists, features contorted into masks of rage.

At least they’re working together
, Nick thought.

They woged as they came, and although it might have been his imagination, he thought they appeared even more bestial than before. He’d once seen a female Jagerbar transform all the way into a bear, and he had no idea if she was a special case or if all Jagerbaren could do that. He hoped for the former. Fighting a pair of enraged alcohol-fueled Jagerbaren was bad enough. He’d rather not have to deal with a couple of full-grown, pissed-off bears.

His senses, normally heightened, sharpened even further, and a deep calm settled over him. At the same time he felt a surge of energy rush through him, as if somewhere inside him a switch had been thrown. Rather than clashing, these two sensations complemented one another in a strange way he didn’t fully understand. All he knew was that it was moments like these, just before battle, that he felt truly himself.

Hank ran behind the Jagerbaren, drawing his Glock in case things got out of hand. Beverly jogged behind him, looking scared as hell. Sylvia walked at a measured pace, as if she were in no hurry.
Too cool for school
, Nick thought.

Nick watched the Jagerbaren approach and tried to get a quick read on them. Would one reach him before the other? Would they attack in unison or take turns? They spread apart as they drew near, and Nick knew they intended to strike at the same time. He doubted they’d planned it that way. At this point they were acting on instinct rather than thought. He’d have to use that to his advantage.

Jagerbaren were fast, but not agile, and as the first one reached him—Thorsten, as it turned out—Nick grabbed hold of the man’s wrist with both hands, spun him around, and let go. Off-balance, Thorsten stumbled several stops and then fell, hitting the asphalt hard. Nick didn’t wait to see if he got up. He turned to meet Josef’s charge. When the Jagerbar was within several feet of Nick, he leaped toward him with a deep bellow, clawed hands outstretched and ready to rend flesh.

Nick started to sidestep to avoid the Jagerbar’s claws, but as fast as his reflexes were, they weren’t quite quick enough this time. The claws on Josef’s right hand clipped his shoulder. The blow would’ve knocked down a normal man and probably broken his shoulder, too. But Nick managed to stay on his feet, and although he could feel sharp pain where the claws had scratched him, he was otherwise uninjured.

Josef landed on all fours, spun around, and straightened into a standing position. He bellowed a challenge, the sound as much human as it was animal, and came at Nick again. Nick felt a tingling on the back of his neck, and he jumped to the side just as Thorsten made a leap at him from behind. The cousins slammed into each other with a sound like two sides of beef colliding. They staggered backward, stunned, but neither went down.

Of course it couldn’t be that easy.

He took advantage of the cousins’ momentary confusion and hit Josef with a hard right cross, then advanced on Thorsten and hit him with a left. He didn’t pull either punch, for the Wesen were far tougher than ordinary humans and could withstand a great deal more punishment. The impact of the first punch knocked Josef onto his behind, but Thorsten managed to stay on his feet.

Got to work on that left
, Nick thought.

Thorsten bellowed and charged, all anger and no finesse. Nick easily avoided the man’s attack and caught him on the back of the neck with a savage chop. Thorsten grunted in pain and fell face-first to the ground. Just then Nick’s instincts screamed at him to turn around, but before he could do so, Josef wrapped his powerful arms around Nick’s chest and squeezed.

Bear hug
, Nick thought, and he might’ve smiled if his ribs hadn’t been on the verge of being snapped like toothpicks. Josef had grabbed him from behind, and his arms were pinned to his sides. To make matters worse, Josef leaned back and lifted Nick off the ground, depriving him of the leverage he’d need to fight back.

“Need some help?” Hank called out, sounding more than a little worried.

Nick shook his head once, and although he could barely breathe, he managed to choke out, “Thanks, but I got this.”

He dipped his chin to his chest and then threw his head backward with as much force as he could muster. The back of his head slammed into Josef’s face, and Nick felt as much as heard the Wesen’s nose break. Josef moaned in pain, but while his hold on Nick slackened, he maintained his grip. Nick had to slam his head into Josef’s face twice more before he finally released him and slumped to the asphalt semiconscious, his features shifting to human once more.

Nick’s ears were ringing and gray nibbled at the corner of his vision, but he wasn’t concerned. He knew he’d recover soon. Right now he had more important things to worry about. Like Thorsten.

Nick spun around to face the other Jagerbar, but the man—who like his brother had reassumed his human aspect—was standing still and looking straight past Nick. Nick turned to look in the same direction, and he saw Sylvia walking away. She pulled keys from her purse, thumbed the remote, and the locks on a Lexus clicked open. She got in, turned on the engine, flicked on the headlights, backed out of her space, hit the gas, and roared onto the street without so much as a backward glance.

Hank joined Nick.

“I think it’s safe to say that lady wasn’t impressed by either of her would-be suitors,” he said.

“Yeah.” Nick looked at Thorsten once more. He expected the man to take out his frustration and disappointment on the Grimm who’d embarrassed him in front of Sylvia. But the man seemed subdued, all the fight drained out of him. He walked over to his cousin, who’d risen to one knee but didn’t look ready to stand up yet. Thorsten held out his hand, and after a moment Josef took it and allowed his cousin to help him to his feet. His nose was swollen and crooked, and blood had spilled over his mouth and chin, and onto his shirt. Thorsten’s face looked equally as bad, scraped and bruised from where he’d struck the asphalt.

The two regarded each other for several seconds.

“Buy you a drink?” Josef said.

Thorsten shrugged. “I guess. After you get yourself cleaned up, that is.”

Josef nodded and the two men started walking back toward the bar, their bruises, cuts, and scrapes already in the process of healing.

“Hey,” Nick called.

The cousins stopped and turned to look at him.

“Stick to club soda this time, okay?”

The men nodded and resumed walking back to Blind Bill’s.

Beverly had hung back during the fight, but now she joined Nick and Hank.

“Thank you
so
much for coming, both of you! You’re real lifesavers!”

Nick smiled. “You’re welcome, but all we did was break up a bar fight.”

“Between two guys with fangs and claws,” Hank pointed out.

“There is that,” Nick agreed.

“Well. I really appreciate it,” Beverly said. “And you won’t have to worry about those two. Not for the rest of the night, anyway. They’ll stick around and have a couple sodas to save as much face as they can, then they’ll go home and lick their wounds. Metaphorically speaking.” She grinned, thanked them again, and started back toward the bar. Halfway across the parking lot, she stopped and turned back around to face them. “You know something? You’re not what I expected from a Grimm.”

She gave them a last wave and continued toward the bar.

“Yeah,” Nick said. “I get that a lot
.”

* * *

Hank pulled the Dodge Charger out of Blind Bill’s parking lot, Nick riding shotgun. Even though it was cool out, Hank lowered the driver’s side window a couple of inches.

“Do I offend?” Nick asked jokingly.

“Are you kidding? You barely broke a sweat with those two. I just like the smell of fall, you know? How’s your shoulder?”

“Fine. The scratches weren’t deep. I’ll need to get the rip sewn, though.”

Luckily for Beverly, Nick and Hank had been working the late shift. There had been a robbery at a liquor store the night before, and the clerk behind the counter had tried to stop it and got himself killed for his attempt at heroism. Nick and Hank had been canvassing the neighborhood, showing around a photo of the robber that had been captured by the store’s security camera. They’d been at it an hour or so without any luck when Beverly called, and they’d rushed to Blind Bill’s.

The liquor-store robbery had taken place on the other side of town, and Hank headed back in that direction. They had a couple more hours of showing photos and asking questions ahead of them until their shift was over.

“Ready to go back to pounding the pavement?” Hank said.

“That’s where real police work gets done, right?” Nick said.

“That’s what they told us at the academy, anyway.” Hank paused before going on. “Tell me something, do you ever get bored with regular police work?”

Nick glanced over at his partner. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Well, one minute you’re walking the street, asking people ‘Have you seen this man?’ and the next you’re fighting a pair of drunk bear-creatures mano-a-mano-a-mano. Waving blurry photos around in front of people seems pretty dull compared to that.”

“I don’t know. I guess I haven’t really thought about it. In a way, it’s all the same thing to me, you know?”

“To serve and protect,” Hank said.

Nick smiled. “Something like that. When it first started happening—all the Grimm stuff, I mean—I would’ve loved for all of it to have gone away so I could have my normal life back. Most of all, I hated lying to you and Juliette about it.”

Nick still felt guilty whenever he thought about how long he’d concealed the truth from both his partner and fiancée: that the world was filled with creatures called Wesen who appeared human but could change into bestial forms when they wished. These creatures were responsible for many of humanity’s myths and legends, and a special breed of humans called Grimms hunted them—Nick was descended from this ancient line of monster killers. He’d told himself that he was hiding his identity as a Grimm to protect them, and while that was true, a small part of the reason was so he could hold onto a remnant of his normal life. Hank and Juliette had been like refuges from the craziness, even though they’d both got caught up in it eventually, despite his best efforts. But they knew the whole truth now, and they’d understood why he’d lied to them and, more importantly, they’d forgiven him. He was glad. He didn’t think he could do this without their love and support.

His ancestors—the Grimms of old—had been known and feared as merciless slayers of Wesen. They were supposed to hunt only “bad” Wesen, but from the accounts Nick had read in his Aunt Marie’s books, some of his ancestors had a pretty loose interpretation of the word “bad.” He sometimes wondered if those Grimms had been that way because they lacked the kind of support he was lucky enough to have. Not just from Juliette and Hank, but from Monroe and Rosalee, too, and he supposed even from Captain Renard—although he wasn’t completely sure about him—and even Wesen like Bud Wurstner. Without all of them in his life, would he become a hard-hearted killing machine like the Grimms of legend? He thought of the man he’d killed while in the grip of the Cracher-Mortel venom.
Maybe
, he thought. He just hoped he’d never have to find out.

With effort, he turned his mind away from this dark train of thought.