do anything I don’t want to...”
“Rosie, honey,” Monroe said, taking her hand. “They have a policy about people who don’t want to play along. They make an example of them.”
“Well... stay here with me, watch my back, then, Monroe.”
“Hey—I’ll camp outside the door if I have to.”
“That won’t be necessary. I might just find a spot for you with me...”
Nick’s phone buzzed.
“Your pants are ringing again,” Rosalee said. “You ought to get that looked at, Nick.”
He laughed and fished the phone out of his pocket.
“Burkhardt.”
“Nick...” Hank’s voice said. “That Drang-zorn of yours?”
“Yeah?” Nick felt a sinking sensation.
“He’s dead. Looks kinda like a heart attack but... he had some marks on his back.”
“Two marks, about fang distance apart?”
“You guessed it.”
“Shit. Königschlange.”
“Don’t speak German to me, man. Just—get over here.”
* * *
“I seem to be spending a lot of time in morgues lately,” Renard remarked.
Renard, Hank and Nick were standing around the body of the Drang-zorn. The morgue was cold, and smelt medical. The odor of the place, a mix of chemicals and decay, always made Nick’s stomach twist.
He was bent over the body, a ruler in his hand, measuring the distance between the puckered bite marks on Doug Zelinski’s back.
“Just right for a Königschlange,” he said after a moment, shaking his head. He stepped back, and stared at the dead body lying face down on the steel table. “Juliette says she likes pretty much all animals. Königschlange— even she’d find that one a challenge.”
“Are they animals?” Hank asked. “They’re people, who can shift to...” He glanced at the door to make sure it was closed, and no one was listening. “...to become more... animal.”
“Yes and no,” Renard said. “But then ordinary human beings are animals—they’re primates. Related to apes. Human beings are animals and something higher than animals all at once.”
Nick set the ruler down on the steel table.
“Lot of people turn into beasts without having to be Wesen. Serial killers. The worst kind of drug dealers—all the basest of animals.”
“True,” Hank admitted, frowning at the body. After a moment he asked, “The transformational thing Wesen do, the woge thing... Is it magic? Or evolution?”
“I don’t know,” Renard said. “Maybe it’s mutational, but... no one’s done any real thorough biological study of Wesen that I know of.” He looked at Nick, his eyes going flinty. “Not even Grimm. They mostly research how to kill them.”
Nick noticed that Renard never spoke of Wesen as “we” or “us,” though he was part Wesen himself. But maybe that was only because he happened to be talking to a Grimm. Renard was stuck with Nick, for now—but it seemed he could never fully trust him. Well , Nick figured, that feeling is pretty mutual .
“How did the Königschlange get into the cell?” he asked. “Who booked him in? We gave an order that nobody but Zelinski was supposed to be in that cell.”
Renard rubbed his chin. “Technically, it was Brian Murphy. But Murphy says he can’t remember who gave him the paperwork to book the Königschlange into the cell...”
“He can’t remember?” Hank said, in disbelief. “Murphy’s not that flaky.”
“Hexenbiest, maybe, controlling him while the assassin was booked in,” Nick said. “Possibly using Seele Dichtungsmittel —so Murphy just goes with it.”
“Hexenbiest?” Renard looked coldly at him for a moment, then he conceded. “Maybe. Murphy booked Colney out, too—but he doesn’t remember that either. And Colney’s nowhere to be found now.”
“Colney’s the cobra guy?” Hank asked.
Nick nodded. “That’s what he called himself when they booked him in.” He felt bad about Zelinski’s death. He’d thought the Drang-zorn would be safe in custody until something else had been worked out.
Don’t
“Rosie, honey,” Monroe said, taking her hand. “They have a policy about people who don’t want to play along. They make an example of them.”
“Well... stay here with me, watch my back, then, Monroe.”
“Hey—I’ll camp outside the door if I have to.”
“That won’t be necessary. I might just find a spot for you with me...”
Nick’s phone buzzed.
“Your pants are ringing again,” Rosalee said. “You ought to get that looked at, Nick.”
He laughed and fished the phone out of his pocket.
“Burkhardt.”
“Nick...” Hank’s voice said. “That Drang-zorn of yours?”
“Yeah?” Nick felt a sinking sensation.
“He’s dead. Looks kinda like a heart attack but... he had some marks on his back.”
“Two marks, about fang distance apart?”
“You guessed it.”
“Shit. Königschlange.”
“Don’t speak German to me, man. Just—get over here.”
* * *
“I seem to be spending a lot of time in morgues lately,” Renard remarked.
Renard, Hank and Nick were standing around the body of the Drang-zorn. The morgue was cold, and smelt medical. The odor of the place, a mix of chemicals and decay, always made Nick’s stomach twist.
He was bent over the body, a ruler in his hand, measuring the distance between the puckered bite marks on Doug Zelinski’s back.
“Just right for a Königschlange,” he said after a moment, shaking his head. He stepped back, and stared at the dead body lying face down on the steel table. “Juliette says she likes pretty much all animals. Königschlange— even she’d find that one a challenge.”
“Are they animals?” Hank asked. “They’re people, who can shift to...” He glanced at the door to make sure it was closed, and no one was listening. “...to become more... animal.”
“Yes and no,” Renard said. “But then ordinary human beings are animals—they’re primates. Related to apes. Human beings are animals and something higher than animals all at once.”
Nick set the ruler down on the steel table.
“Lot of people turn into beasts without having to be Wesen. Serial killers. The worst kind of drug dealers—all the basest of animals.”
“True,” Hank admitted, frowning at the body. After a moment he asked, “The transformational thing Wesen do, the woge thing... Is it magic? Or evolution?”
“I don’t know,” Renard said. “Maybe it’s mutational, but... no one’s done any real thorough biological study of Wesen that I know of.” He looked at Nick, his eyes going flinty. “Not even Grimm. They mostly research how to kill them.”
Nick noticed that Renard never spoke of Wesen as “we” or “us,” though he was part Wesen himself. But maybe that was only because he happened to be talking to a Grimm. Renard was stuck with Nick, for now—but it seemed he could never fully trust him. Well , Nick figured, that feeling is pretty mutual .
“How did the Königschlange get into the cell?” he asked. “Who booked him in? We gave an order that nobody but Zelinski was supposed to be in that cell.”
Renard rubbed his chin. “Technically, it was Brian Murphy. But Murphy says he can’t remember who gave him the paperwork to book the Königschlange into the cell...”
“He can’t remember?” Hank said, in disbelief. “Murphy’s not that flaky.”
“Hexenbiest, maybe, controlling him while the assassin was booked in,” Nick said. “Possibly using Seele Dichtungsmittel —so Murphy just goes with it.”
“Hexenbiest?” Renard looked coldly at him for a moment, then he conceded. “Maybe. Murphy booked Colney out, too—but he doesn’t remember that either. And Colney’s nowhere to be found now.”
“Colney’s the cobra guy?” Hank asked.
Nick nodded. “That’s what he called himself when they booked him in.” He felt bad about Zelinski’s death. He’d thought the Drang-zorn would be safe in custody until something else had been worked out.
Don’t
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