Chapter 20 : Adalind's Test
Adalind's apartment occupied the top floor of a converted warehouse in the Pearl District. Exposed brick, floor-to-ceiling windows, furniture that cost more than Daniel's annual salary. The kind of space that announced success while hiding the compromises required to achieve it.
She met me at the door with a manila envelope and a glass of wine already poured.
"I have something for you."
The photographs inside showed a shipping container—industrial, unmarked except for symbols I recognized from the Bestiary's Royal Family entries. Habsburg variation, the System supplied. Minor house, aggressive expansion.
"Arriving tonight at the Willamette docks. Two guards, minimal security, scheduled pickup at midnight." Adalind handed me the wine. "Viktor's resupply shipment. Weapons, gold, documents. Everything his Portland operation needs to function."
[INTELLIGENCE: ROYAL SHIPMENT]
[CONTENTS: WEAPONS / CURRENCY / DOCUMENTATION]
[OPPORTUNITY: RESOURCE ACQUISITION]
[RISK: ROYAL RETALIATION]
"Why are you giving me this?"
"Consider it an investment." She settled onto her couch, legs curled beneath her, watching me with calculation behind the casual pose. "Viktor's been testing you. The warehouse ambush. The Blutbad frame-up. He's treating you like a problem to be measured and eventually eliminated."
"And stealing his shipment changes that how?"
"It doesn't change his plans. It changes your position." She sipped her wine. "Right now, you're reactive. Defending, training, building alliances. This is a chance to be aggressive. To show Viktor that his operations in Portland have consequences."
I studied the photographs. The dock layout. The container's position. The guard rotation schedules she'd somehow acquired.
"You're testing me too."
"Obviously." Her smile held edges. "I want to know if you're worth the risk I'm taking. Working with a Grimm, defying Royal interests, positioning myself against people who could destroy me with a phone call. That requires a certain level of confidence in my investment."
"And intercepting a Royal shipment provides that confidence?"
"No." She set down her wine glass. "Fighting alongside me provides that confidence. I want to see how you work. How you handle pressure. Whether you'll protect your allies or sacrifice them when things go wrong."
It was a reasonable request, strategically speaking. Trust required demonstration. And Adalind had access to intelligence I couldn't get anywhere else.
"What time do we leave?"
Her smile widened. "I'll drive."
The Willamette docks spread along Portland's waterfront like the skeleton of an industry that had moved on. Container yards. Loading cranes. The infrastructure of global trade, mostly automated now, with security concentrated at entry points rather than individual shipments.
Adalind parked three blocks away. We walked through shadows cast by stacked containers, the river's smell mixing with diesel fuel and rusted metal.
"Two guards visible." I let the enhanced senses scan the approach. "Both human. Armed. There's a third presence near the container—Wesen, I think. Can't get a clear read."
"Hundjäger." Adalind's voice was quiet, businesslike. "Viktor uses them for security details. Hound Wesen. Excellent trackers, moderate combat capability."
[SPECIES: HUNDJÄGER (HOUND WESEN)]
[THREAT LEVEL: C-RANK]
[ABILITIES: ENHANCED TRACKING, PACK TACTICS, LOYALTY CONDITIONING]
"Can you handle him?"
"I can handle all three." Her woge surfaced partially—the corpse-like features emerging beneath her beauty, power coiling around her fingers like visible electricity. "But I'd rather not waste the energy. You take the Hundjäger. I'll deal with the humans."
"How?"
She smiled. "Persuasively."
We split at the container yard's edge. I circled wide, using stacked shipments as cover, moving toward the Hundjäger's position. Adalind walked directly toward the human guards, her heels clicking against concrete with complete confidence.
"Evening, gentlemen." Her voice carried clearly across the yard. "I'm afraid there's been a change of plans."
The guards turned toward her. Whatever they saw—a beautiful woman, a potential threat, something else entirely—it held their attention long enough for power to gather around her hands.
The Hundjäger noticed me first.
He was good. His woge was already complete when he moved to intercept—elongated snout, pointed ears, the muscular build of a hunting dog. He didn't waste time with posturing.
"Grimm."
"Hundjäger."
We met between shipping containers. His first strike was fast, practiced—the efficient violence of someone trained for exactly this kind of work. I blocked with my sword, feeling the impact jar through my arms.
He was stronger than me. Faster than me. Better trained.
But I'd been sparring with Angelina for a week, and she was worse.
His second strike came for my throat. I ducked, let the momentum carry him past, and opened a cut across his ribs as he passed. Not deep—he was already twisting, already compensating—but first blood.
"You fight like a Blutbad." He circled, reassessing. "Who taught you?"
"A friend."
"Then your friend should have taught you better."
He came again. Three strikes in rapid succession—throat, gut, hamstring. I blocked the first, dodged the second, took a slash across my thigh from the third.
[INJURY: MINOR LACERATION (LEG)]
[COMBAT EFFICIENCY: DEGRADING]
The pain was a distraction I couldn't afford. I pushed through it, looking for the opening I knew would come.
There. His shoulder dipped before his final strike—the same tell Monroe had taught me to watch for. I stepped inside his guard, drove my elbow into his face, and buried my sword in his chest before he could recover.
[KILL REGISTERED: HUNDJÄGER]
[XP GAINED: +50]
[ABILITY EXTRACTION: AVAILABLE - ACCEPT? Y/N]
I accepted. The extraction was smoother now—familiar, almost comfortable. The Hundjäger's essence flowed into me, carrying new capabilities.
[ABILITY ACQUIRED: HUNDJÄGER TRACKING (PASSIVE)]
[EFFECT: ENHANCED PURSUIT INSTINCT, SCENT MEMORY RETENTION]
[COOLDOWN: N/A (PERMANENT)]
Across the yard, Adalind had finished with the guards. They lay unconscious—not dead, I noted with interest. She'd used magic to knock them out rather than kill them.
"Merciful tonight?"
"Bodies attract attention." She was already opening the shipping container. "Besides, they're humans. Pawns. The people who actually matter are in Vienna."
Inside the container, we found exactly what she'd promised. Weapon crates—modern firearms, modified for Wesen hunting. Gold coins in velvet-lined cases. And a lockbox containing documents stamped with Royal seals.
[INVENTORY ACQUIRED: WEAPONS (VARIOUS)]
[INVENTORY ACQUIRED: GOLD CURRENCY (SIGNIFICANT)]
[INVENTORY ACQUIRED: ROYAL DOCUMENTATION]
I opened the lockbox. The documents were in German, but the System provided translation. Operational directives. Personnel assignments. And repeated references to something called "the Burkhardt Key."
"They're looking for it too." Adalind read over my shoulder. "The Key. Everyone wants it. The Royals have been searching for generations."
"What does it open?"
"Nobody knows. Not anymore. But it's important enough to kill for." She closed the lockbox. "We should take everything we can carry and leave before someone notices the guards aren't checking in."
We loaded weapons and documents into her car, leaving the gold coins—too heavy, too conspicuous. The drive back to her apartment was quiet, both of us processing the night's events.
"You fight well," Adalind said finally. "Better than I expected."
"I've been training."
"It shows." She parked in her building's garage. "Come up. We should discuss what we found."
Her apartment was warmer this time, or maybe I was just noticing it more. She poured wine while I spread the documents across her coffee table.
"These mention Viktor's timeline. He's planning something for next month—after my Reaper deadline, coincidentally."
"He's waiting to see if they kill you." Adalind handed me a glass. "Why waste resources eliminating a Grimm when the Reapers will do it for free?"
"Efficient."
"Viktor's many things. Stupid isn't one of them."
We read through documents, sharing observations, building a picture of Viktor's Portland operations. It was almost normal—two professionals working late on a complicated project. Except the project was survival, and the professionals were a Grimm and a Hexenbiest.
"Why did you really approach me?" Adalind set down her glass, her gaze direct. "At the hospital. You could have ignored me. Could have attacked me. Why negotiation?"
I considered lying. Decided against it.
"Because you're useful, yes. But also because everyone else sees you as a weapon to aim. Renard uses you. The Royals use you. I saw someone who hasn't had a choice in years." I met her eyes. "I'm offering choices."
Something shifted in her expression. Vulnerability, quickly masked.
"You're either genuine or the best manipulator I've ever met."
"Why not both?"
She laughed—genuine amusement, the first I'd heard from her. "That's my line."
"I know. It's a good line."
The moment stretched. Something unspoken passed between us—not quite trust, but the foundation for it. The recognition that maybe, despite everything, we could actually help each other survive.
"It's late." Adalind stood. "You should go. We both have Reapers to prepare for."
I gathered the documents, noting which ones were most immediately useful. At the door, I paused.
"Tonight was good. The operation. Working together."
"Yes." Her smile was smaller now, more real. "It was."
Walking home through Portland's predawn streets, I felt something I hadn't expected. Not just satisfaction at a successful mission. Something warmer. More dangerous.
[RELATIONSHIP UPDATE: ADALIND SCHADE (+35)]
[WARNING: EMOTIONAL ATTACHMENT - POTENTIAL VULNERABILITY]
The System's caution was probably wise. Emotional attachments in my position were liabilities, exploitable weaknesses that could be used against me.
I ignored the warning anyway.
Some vulnerabilities were worth the risk.
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