ground, fighting with the other Blutbad, both of them snarling and snapping. No way to shoot the guy without risking shooting Monroe, so Nick reversed his Glock and hammered at the Icy Touch Blutbad’s head with the butt. The Blutbad howled and tried to twist away.
Nick reached between them with his free hand to try to get a grip on the Icy Touch Wesen—and a mostly feral Monroe bit his hand.
“Ow! Dammit, Monroe!” Nick said, snatching his hand back.
The submachine gun, compressed between them, went off—and Nick looked on with horror as blood splashed, bits of bone flew... Then he saw with relief that it wasn’t Monroe who’d been shot. The bullets had smashed up under the Icy Touch Blutbad’s jaw, and out through the top of his head.
Another gunshot made him turn—he saw Hank struggling with the Hasslich, his arms pinioned in the creature’s talons, gun firing uselessly into the ceiling.
Nick swung his gun hard, cracking the Hasslich in the head with all his strength.
The troll roared, shook his head, stunned, and Hank jerked his gun hand free and fired four times, point blank, into the Hasslich’s chest.
Nick sighed, as the troll staggered backwards, and fell. Another possible interrogation subject gone to meet the devil.
“Fellas, don’t shoot me, don’t shoot me, I didn’t want to do any of this stuff!” whimpered the man lying face down by the bricks of powder. Nick looked at him, saw his Drang-zorn appearance showing in his distress.
“Take it easy, no one’s gonna hurt you if you don’t resist,” Nick said. “What’s your name?”
“Doug. I mean—Douglas Zelinski.”
“Your hand’s bleeding, Nick,” Hank said, holstering his gun.
Nick looked at his left hand. There were only a couple of fang marks on it but Monroe had broken the skin.
“Yeah, sorry about that, Nick,” Monroe said, getting to his feet. He was back in human form, brushing blood and brains from his shirt with evident distaste. “You stuck your hand too close to my mouth when I was in full Blutbad fighting mode... kind of a reflex... A little antiseptic and it’ll be fine. I’m gonna need some too. This scumbag’s blood is all over me... ugh.”
The Icy Touch Blutbad had shifted back to human form in death.
“You know that guy, Monroe?” Nick asked.
“Naw. Out of town Wesen, be my guess.”
Nick grimaced, rubbing his wrists. He nodded towards the body of the troll.
“Man that son of a bitch was strong . Nearly cracked my bones.”
“He would’ve, in another second or two,” Monroe said.
“Fast too. Rushed right past my gun. Thanks, Nick,” Hank said.
“Sure, Hank but—you have to kill him? I wanted to question him.”
“You kidding me? He was about to eat my face!”
Nick shrugged. “Probably tear out your throat instead.”
“Oh well, that’d be fine then.”
“You’re not going to kill me?” The Drang-zorn asked again.
“No,” Nick said. He knelt to cuff the man’s hands behind his back.
“They will, though, you know. They’ll get to me in jail,” the man said sadly.
“We’ll protect you,” Nick said, feeling a stab of guilt as he said it because he wasn’t sure he could guarantee the guy’s safety at all. “What’s the stuff in the bricks here? Heroin?”
“Nah, I don’t think so. But I don’t know what it is. They called it Seele Dicht something. I don’t know what that means. I don’t speak German.”
Monroe perked up at that.
“Seele Dichtungsmittel?”
“Yeah, I think that was it. How long I got to lay here on my stomach?”
Nick helped him to his feet.
“What’s this Seele stuff?” he asked.
“Did he say seal dicks?” Hank asked.
“No, I didn’t,” Monroe said, picking a chunk of brain matter off his shirt. “I said Seele Dichtungsmittel. Soul sealant. Legendary. Didn’t know if it was real... I don’t know that much about it. Rosalee’d know more.”
Nick took an evidence bag from his jacket pocket, got out a pen knife and cut