Read Online Grimm: The Killing Time by Tim Waggoner - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Tim Waggoner
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said. “The fresher the trail, the better, right?’
Before Monroe could respond the door opened, and Bud Wurstner entered. He was carrying a basket, the contents of which were covered by a red-and-white checkered cloth. Bud was a short, stout, middle-aged man with thinning gray hair, a mustache and a short beard. He gave off so much nervous energy that at times he almost seemed to vibrate. Nick feared that part of the reason for Bud’s nervousness—maybe even the majority of it—was that Bud still hadn’t adjusted to being in the presence of a Grimm. Nick tried to make him feel comfortable whenever they were together, but Bud’s anxiety ended up putting Nick on edge, which in turn only made Bud more anxious. Juliette said that Bud just needed more time to get to know Nick, but he wasn’t sure that any amount of time could help Bud relax around him.
“I saw the lights were on, so I thought I’d stop and see if you were here. And you are. Well, you
all
are, but I was coming to see Rosalee specifically. Not that it isn’t great to see all of you, and I apologize if I’m interrupting anything. I’m interrupting
something
, but I hope whatever it is isn’t too important. Not to say that it’s
un
important, because you wouldn’t be here this time of night if it wasn’t important on some level, right? Which is why I’m glad I drove by on my way to drop this off at Monroe and Rosalee’s house. Because if I hadn’t, you two wouldn’t have been there because you’re here.”
As usual, Bud’s words came tumbling out of his mouth in a nervous rush, and no one could get a word in until he paused for breath. And he could say a lot on a single breath of air. Nick wondered if that was because he was an Eisbiber. Didn’t beavers have to be good at holding their breath when they were working underwater?
Bud bustled over to the counter, Nick, Juliette, and Hank moving aside to make room for him. He deposited the basket on the counter next to the book.
“My wife’s been baking thank-you gifts for people all day, and I’ve been delivering them all night. She made a spice cake for you, Rosalee, to thank you for the toothache remedy you made for our daughter.” He turned to the others. “Believe me, when an Eisbiber gets a toothache, it’s a
big
deal.”
“That’s so sweet,” Rosalee said. “Thank her for me, Bud, okay?”
“Sure thing.” He glanced down at the open book. “Grimm trouble? Not to say that Grimms
are
trouble, you understand, but that you might have trouble to deal with. But then, that’s what Grimms do, right? Not that it’s my place to tell you what a Grimm’s job is, Nick. You’d know better than anyone, right?”
Nick jumped in before Bud could go any further.
“We think we may have a Wechselbalg in town. Do you know anything about them?”
Bud frowned as he thought. “Wechselbalg? That’s some kind of shapeshifter, isn’t it? I mean, technically all Wesen are shapechangers. But this one changes shapes the same way most people change clothes. I’ve never met one—that I know of. Unless one introduces him or herself as a Wechselbalg, how would you know? One of my cousins said she heard there was one in the town where she lived as a kid, but that might’ve just been a rumor.” He paused. “Now that I think of it, isn’t there a legend of some kind involving a Wechselbalg? I think I remember hearing one once, but I can’t remember the details.” He gave Nick an apologetic look. “Wesen have a lot of legends. It’s hard to remember them all.”
“It’s the whole oral history thing,” Monroe said. “With some exceptions—” he tapped the volume open on the counter “—we don’t write a lot of stuff down. Easier to stay hidden that way.”
“How about you two?” Nick said to Monroe and Rosalee. “You ever hear of this legend?’
“I haven’t,” Rosalee said. “But I can keep looking through my brother’s books and see what turns up, if
Before Monroe could respond the door opened, and Bud Wurstner entered. He was carrying a basket, the contents of which were covered by a red-and-white checkered cloth. Bud was a short, stout, middle-aged man with thinning gray hair, a mustache and a short beard. He gave off so much nervous energy that at times he almost seemed to vibrate. Nick feared that part of the reason for Bud’s nervousness—maybe even the majority of it—was that Bud still hadn’t adjusted to being in the presence of a Grimm. Nick tried to make him feel comfortable whenever they were together, but Bud’s anxiety ended up putting Nick on edge, which in turn only made Bud more anxious. Juliette said that Bud just needed more time to get to know Nick, but he wasn’t sure that any amount of time could help Bud relax around him.
“I saw the lights were on, so I thought I’d stop and see if you were here. And you are. Well, you
all
are, but I was coming to see Rosalee specifically. Not that it isn’t great to see all of you, and I apologize if I’m interrupting anything. I’m interrupting
something
, but I hope whatever it is isn’t too important. Not to say that it’s
un
important, because you wouldn’t be here this time of night if it wasn’t important on some level, right? Which is why I’m glad I drove by on my way to drop this off at Monroe and Rosalee’s house. Because if I hadn’t, you two wouldn’t have been there because you’re here.”
As usual, Bud’s words came tumbling out of his mouth in a nervous rush, and no one could get a word in until he paused for breath. And he could say a lot on a single breath of air. Nick wondered if that was because he was an Eisbiber. Didn’t beavers have to be good at holding their breath when they were working underwater?
Bud bustled over to the counter, Nick, Juliette, and Hank moving aside to make room for him. He deposited the basket on the counter next to the book.
“My wife’s been baking thank-you gifts for people all day, and I’ve been delivering them all night. She made a spice cake for you, Rosalee, to thank you for the toothache remedy you made for our daughter.” He turned to the others. “Believe me, when an Eisbiber gets a toothache, it’s a
big
deal.”
“That’s so sweet,” Rosalee said. “Thank her for me, Bud, okay?”
“Sure thing.” He glanced down at the open book. “Grimm trouble? Not to say that Grimms
are
trouble, you understand, but that you might have trouble to deal with. But then, that’s what Grimms do, right? Not that it’s my place to tell you what a Grimm’s job is, Nick. You’d know better than anyone, right?”
Nick jumped in before Bud could go any further.
“We think we may have a Wechselbalg in town. Do you know anything about them?”
Bud frowned as he thought. “Wechselbalg? That’s some kind of shapeshifter, isn’t it? I mean, technically all Wesen are shapechangers. But this one changes shapes the same way most people change clothes. I’ve never met one—that I know of. Unless one introduces him or herself as a Wechselbalg, how would you know? One of my cousins said she heard there was one in the town where she lived as a kid, but that might’ve just been a rumor.” He paused. “Now that I think of it, isn’t there a legend of some kind involving a Wechselbalg? I think I remember hearing one once, but I can’t remember the details.” He gave Nick an apologetic look. “Wesen have a lot of legends. It’s hard to remember them all.”
“It’s the whole oral history thing,” Monroe said. “With some exceptions—” he tapped the volume open on the counter “—we don’t write a lot of stuff down. Easier to stay hidden that way.”
“How about you two?” Nick said to Monroe and Rosalee. “You ever hear of this legend?’
“I haven’t,” Rosalee said. “But I can keep looking through my brother’s books and see what turns up, if
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