The message from Renard arrived three days after Kelly's test.
"Intelligence meeting. Priority. My office, 8 PM."
The tone was unusual—urgent in a way his communications rarely were. Renard preferred careful neutrality, messages that could be interpreted multiple ways. This was almost desperate.
I didn't trust it.
"Viktor's been pressuring him." Adalind reviewed the intelligence reports we'd gathered. "Communications between Renard's private lines and Vienna have increased significantly. Something's changed."
"He's being pushed to choose."
"Or he's already chosen and this is the result."
The blood bond between us pulsed with her concern. Since her enhancement, the connection had grown stronger—I could sense her emotional state even when we were apart. Right now, she was worried.
"I'll take backup. Position Pack members around the meeting location."
"And if it's a trap?"
"Then we spring it on our terms instead of his."
Renard's office at Portland PD was supposed to be neutral ground—police territory, cameras everywhere, the kind of place where violence would have consequences. But the cameras could be disabled, the building cleared, the consequences managed.
I arrived at 7:45, Monroe and Angelina positioned in vehicles outside, Adalind monitoring through connections she'd established in the building's infrastructure. If things went wrong, backup was seconds away.
Renard waited behind his desk, his expression unreadable.
"Cross. Thank you for coming."
"You said it was urgent."
"It is." He stood, moving to close the office blinds. "Viktor has given me an ultimatum. Kill you or be exposed as a traitor to the Royals."
The honesty surprised me. "And you're telling me this because...?"
"Because I wanted you to understand why this is happening." His woge began surfacing—the Zauberbiest features emerging, power gathering in his hands. "I'm sorry. But survival requires sacrifice."
The door behind me burst open. Four Verrat operatives, armed, already firing.
[AMBUSH: CONFIRMED]
[THREAT LEVEL: HIGH]
[IRON FLESH: ABSORBING INITIAL IMPACTS]
[RENARD STATUS: HOSTILE]
The bullets hit my back—pain registering, damage minimal thanks to Iron Flesh. I dove behind Renard's desk, drawing my sword, buying seconds to assess.
Renard's telekinesis slammed into me before I could recover. The force threw me against the wall, pinning me there, his power significantly stronger than I'd expected.
"I genuinely regret this." His voice was calm despite the violence. "You've built something impressive. But Viktor has resources I can't oppose."
"You underestimate my resources."
The window shattered.
Angelina came through in full woge, chains already swinging. She hit two Verrat before they could adjust their aim, her violence precise and devastating.
Monroe entered through the door, engaging the remaining operatives. The Blutbad's fury was controlled, directed—the discipline of someone who'd learned to channel rage into effectiveness.
And Adalind's magic hit Renard from somewhere he hadn't expected.
The telekinesis holding me failed. I dropped to the floor, rolling, coming up with sword ready.
Renard had been thrown against his own wall, Adalind's enhanced power overwhelming his defenses. He struggled to rise, but she hit him again—shadow and force slamming into his Zauberbiest form.
"You used his blood." Her voice echoed through the blood bond. "For my enhancement. Now I can feel when he lies."
"I suspected. Adalind confirmed." I advanced on Renard while the Pack finished the Verrat operatives. "You should have been more careful about what you donated, Captain."
Renard's woge was flickering—power draining, damage accumulating. But he wasn't finished. His telekinesis surged one more time, throwing Angelina into Monroe, creating space for an escape attempt.
I caught him at the door.
The fight was brief. Renard was skilled—decades of experience, Royal training, Zauberbiest capabilities. But I was faster, stronger, more willing to commit fully to violence.
My sword opened cuts across his arms, his legs, his face. Iron Flesh absorbed his desperate counterattacks. Within two minutes, he lay bleeding on his own office floor.
"You're more useful alive, Captain." I pressed the blade against his throat. "And terrified."
"If you kill me—"
"I'm not going to kill you." I let the extraction begin.
The process was different with a living subject. Painful for him—I could see it in the way his body convulsed, the screams he tried to suppress. The Zauberbiest abilities resisted at first, fighting the forced transfer.
But extraction worked on the living as well as the dead. Just more slowly. More agonizingly.
[ABILITY EXTRACTION: IN PROGRESS]
[TARGET: CAPTAIN SEAN RENARD (ZAUBERBIEST)]
[ABILITY ACQUIRED: TELEKINESIS (LIMITED)]
[NOTE: EXTRACTION FROM LIVING SUBJECT - REDUCED POWER TRANSFER]
[SUBJECT STATUS: ALIVE - SEVERELY WEAKENED]
The telekinesis settled into my consciousness—a new capability, limited compared to what Renard had possessed, but functional. I could feel the potential, the way it might develop with practice.
Renard lay gasping, his woge completely suppressed, his power drained to nearly nothing.
"You work for me now." I removed the sword from his throat. "Not Viktor. Not the Royals. Me."
"Viktor will—"
"Viktor will receive a message explaining that his agent was turned. That his Portland operations have failed. That any further attacks will be met with escalating responses." I stood. "Your choice is simple, Captain. Serve me faithfully and live. Betray me again and I finish what I started tonight."
Kelly Burkhardt stepped through the shattered window.
She'd been watching—of course she had. The test three days ago hadn't satisfied her curiosity; she'd continued observing, evaluating, deciding.
"You could have killed him." Her voice was neutral. "Should have, maybe. He betrayed you. Tried to have you murdered."
"Dead, he's a martyr. Alive and controlled, he's a tool." I met her eyes. "I prefer tools."
"That's cold."
"That's survival."
Kelly studied Renard's broken form, then looked at the Verrat bodies scattered across the office. The Pack was already beginning cleanup—bodies to dispose of, evidence to manage, cameras to verify had been disabled.
"You're building something dangerous." Her voice held something new—not approval, but acknowledgment. "Something that could change everything about how Grimms and Wesen interact."
"That's the goal."
"I know." She moved toward the window, preparing to leave. "For what it's worth, I'm starting to hope you succeed."
She disappeared into the night.
Renard signed the papers three hours later—resource transfers, intelligence access, formal acknowledgment of his new position. The police captain who'd played every side against the middle now served one master.
Me.
[ALLY ACQUIRED: CAPTAIN SEAN RENARD]
[STATUS: SUBJUGATED (SURVIVAL-BASED LOYALTY)]
[RESOURCES GAINED: POLICE INTELLIGENCE, POLITICAL CONTACTS]
[ABILITIES GAINED: TELEKINESIS (LIMITED)]
Viktor's last reliable agent in Portland was gone. His military approaches had failed. His political attacks had been repelled. His assassins were dead.
The Royal prince was running out of options.
That thought was satisfying in a way I hadn't expected.
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