Free Grimm: The Killing Time by Tim Waggoner

anything.”
    “Sorry, man,” Monroe said. “If I ever heard anything about this legend, I forgot it.”
    Juliette turned to Nick. “While you guys go see if you can track down the Wechselbalg, I can go to the trailer and research the legend.”
    “Hank and I already tried that,” Nick said.
    “But you didn’t know the shapeshifter’s name,” Juliette pointed out. “Now we do. That might make a difference.”
    He smiled. “It might. But—”
    “Some of the books are written in German. I know. If any of those mention Wechselbalgen, I’ll bring them back here for Monroe to translate.”
    “And if we get lucky, we may have the shapeshifter captured before then,” Hank said.
    “We don’t need luck,” Monroe said. He tapped the side of his nose. “Not when we have this baby on our side.”
    “I’ve got a couple more deliveries to make,” Bud said. “I’ll ask if anyone knows anything about Wechselbalgen and if they can remember anything about the legend.” He drew the back of his hand across his forehead. “Is it hot in here, or is it just me?”
    Rosalee frowned. “Now that you mention it, it
is
a little warm.”
    “I hadn’t noticed, but yeah, you’re right,” Monroe said. “Maybe the heat’s turned up too high.”
    Nick exchanged looks with Juliette and Hank. He felt fine, and from their expressions, so did they. He shrugged. Maybe it was a Wesen thing.
    “Well, I’ll let you good people get on with your work,” Bud said. “Hope you like the cake, Rosalee. And keep the basket. We’ve got a ton of them. Nick, I’ll call you if I learn anything about the Wechselbalg legend. Good look and take care.”
    He headed for the door, wiping his forehead one more time as he went. He turned to give a final wave before stepping back out into the night.
    Monroe clapped his hands together and rubbed them. “Let’s get to work. That scent trail isn’t getting any fresher while we stand here gabbing. Besides, it’ll be nice to get out into the cool air.”
    “Yeah,” Rosalee said. “Maybe I’ll open up a window while I work.”
    Monroe gave her a quick kiss and then came out from behind the counter. Nick wasn’t sure, but he thought his friend’s face looked a little flushed. Rosalee’s too, for that matter. And hadn’t Bud looked a bit red as he departed? Maybe.
    “You feeling all right?” Nick asked Monroe.
    Monroe frowned. “Who me? Never better. Why?”
    “It’s nothing.” Nick turned to Juliette and gave her a kiss.
    “Be careful,” she cautioned.
    He smiled. “Always.”
    “Hank?” she said.
    “I’ll watch out for him.” He smiled, amused.
    “Me too,” Monroe added.
    “I’m relieved to know I’m in good hands,” Nick said. “Let’s go.”
    Juliette left with them, and as they went through the doorway, Rosalee said, “I’ll call if I find out anything, Nick.”
    He turned to wave goodbye and saw Rosalee looking down at the open book and pulling her sweater collar away from her throat as it were stifling her.

CHAPTER FIVE
    The Wechselbalg—who increasingly thought of itself as Nick Burkhardt—was walking down the sidewalk when a sound came to his ears. His senses were much sharper than he was used to, especially his hearing, and over the sounds of vehicles passing by on the street, he detected a hissing noise that sounded like escaping air. His instincts told him it was out of place, so he turned in its direction—an alley he’d just passed—and walked back toward it.
    In the alley, a couple of teenagers—one male, one female—held cans of spray paint and were hard at work defacing a brick wall. They’d evidently been at it a while, for several empty cans lay on the ground around their feet. Light from the street filtered into the alley, providing enough illumination for the Wechselbalg to make out the graffiti artists’ features. They looked to be in their mid-teens, fifteen, maybe sixteen. The male had shoulder-length hair and wore a leather jacket and