The Mellifer Queen arrived at the Spice Shop unannounced—the first time she'd personally visited our headquarters since establishing the intelligence alliance.
That alone told me the news was bad.
Melissa Wincroft wore her human face perfectly, but the agitation beneath was visible to anyone who knew what to look for. Her movements were too quick, her attention too scattered, her compound eyes flickering at the edges of her woge.
"We need to talk." She closed the door behind her, waving away Rosalee's offer of tea. "Privately."
I led her to the planning room, dismissing Monroe with a gesture. Whatever she had to say, I wanted to process it before sharing with the Pack.
"European contacts have confirmed something." Melissa settled into a chair, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. "Viktor hasn't just requested Verrat reinforcements. He's deployed a specialist."
"What kind of specialist?"
"Mauvais Dentes." The name dropped like a physical weight. "Specifically, one called Kimura. Japanese-Austrian hybrid. Active for at least three centuries."
[THREAT ALERT: MAUVAIS DENTES (SABRE-TOOTH WESEN)]
[INDIVIDUAL: KIMURA]
[CLASSIFICATION: S-RANK (ASSASSIN)]
[KNOWN KILLS: 200+ CONFIRMED]
[CAPABILITY: EXTREME COMBAT, ENHANCED REGENERATION]
[WARNING: DIRECT ENGAGEMENT NOT RECOMMENDED]
I accessed the Bestiary entry, letting the System's analysis overlay my own understanding. The information was disturbing.
Mauvais Dentes were apex predators—sabre-toothed Wesen designed by evolution for one purpose: killing. Their enhanced speed and strength exceeded even Blutbaden. Their regeneration allowed them to heal from wounds that would kill anything else.
And Kimura had been killing for three hundred years. Professional, patient, unstoppable.
"Viktor's escalating." I kept my voice level despite the cold settling in my stomach. "Reapers failed. Verrat failed. Now he's sending something designed to wipe out entire families."
"Not something. Someone." Melissa's compound eyes met mine. "Kimura doesn't work like other assassins. He enjoys the hunt. Plays with his prey. Leaves witnesses alive to spread fear."
"When does he arrive?"
"He may already be here. Our scouts lost contact with his travel pattern two days ago."
The cold intensified. Two days. Kimura could be anywhere in Portland, watching, waiting, planning.
"Thank you for the warning." I stood, already calculating. "I need to convene the Pack. Full emergency protocols."
"Cross." Melissa rose, something vulnerable beneath her usual composure. "My workers... if he targets the network..."
"He won't." I didn't know if that was true. "Kimura's coming for me. For the Key. Your people are intelligence assets, not primary targets."
"That's not reassuring."
"It's the best I have." I moved toward the door. "Stay in contact. If anything changes, if your scouts see anything—"
"You'll know immediately." She gathered herself, professionalism reasserting. "My workers are already on high alert. We'll find him before he finds you."
She left through the back entrance, disappearing into Portland's afternoon with the practiced invisibility of her species.
I called the emergency council.
They gathered within an hour—Monroe and Rosalee from the shop's front room, Angelina from her patrol route, Ariel from the safehouse where Maya was hidden, Scalpel from his clinic. The Mellifer representative arrived last, still shaking from her Queen's warning.
"We have a problem." I didn't soften the news. "Viktor has deployed a Mauvais Dentes assassin. Professional, experienced, lethal. He's either in Portland already or arriving soon."
The reactions varied. Monroe went pale, his Blutbad instincts recognizing a superior predator. Angelina's woge flickered—aggression warring with wariness. Ariel's hands ignited briefly, her Dämonfeuer fire responding to stress.
"Mauvais Dentes." Monroe's voice was hollow. "I've heard stories about Kimura specifically. He's killed Grimms before—real ones, experienced ones. He enjoys it."
"How many?" Rosalee's question was pragmatic.
"The Bestiary confirms over two hundred kills. At least twelve of those were Grimms." I pulled up the entry on the planning room's display. "His regeneration is the primary problem. Even lethal wounds heal within minutes. We can hurt him; we can't stop him through conventional means."
"Then what do we do?" Scalpel's voice trembled. "If conventional means don't work—"
"We find unconventional means." I moved to the room's map, marking locations. "First priority: full lockdown. No one travels alone. Vulnerable members—Maya, Rosalee, Sarah—stay in protected locations with rotating guards."
"I can take care of myself." Rosalee's protest was immediate.
"I know. But I can't take care of everything if I'm worried about you." I met her eyes. "This isn't about capability. It's about concentration of forces."
She nodded reluctantly.
"Second priority: intelligence." I turned to the Mellifer representative. "Every scout, every worker, every contact—I need eyes on every inch of Portland. Kimura's arrival will leave traces. We find those traces."
"Already in motion." Sarah's compound eyes glittered. "The Queen has deployed maximum surveillance."
"Third priority: finding a weakness." I looked around the room. "The Bestiary mentions Mauvais Dentes have been killed before—rarely, with difficulty, but it's possible. We need to know how."
"Hexenbiests." Adalind's voice came from the doorway. She'd arrived without announcement, her expression grim. "My mother's generation fought a Mauvais Dentes in Vienna. Some of them survived."
[INTELLIGENCE ASSET: CATHERINE SCHADE'S CONTACTS]
[HISTORICAL DATA: HEXENBIEST VS MAUVAIS DENTES]
[POTENTIAL VALUE: HIGH]
"Can you reach them?"
"I can try." Adalind moved into the room, taking her usual position near the strategic displays. "Catherine's network was extensive before she died. Some of those connections are still active."
"Do it. Whatever it takes, whatever it costs." I assigned the remaining tasks—patrol schedules, communication protocols, contingency plans for scenarios I hoped we'd never face.
The meeting lasted three hours. By the end, we had a framework for survival. Not a guarantee—nothing guaranteed survival against a centuries-old predator—but a framework.
That night, no one slept alone.
Ariel guarded the safehouse where Maya and two other refugees had been secured. Monroe stayed at the Spice Shop with Rosalee, his Blutbad senses on high alert. Angelina prowled the perimeter, chains ready, her predator instincts scanning for a predator more dangerous than herself.
I lay awake in my apartment, staring at the ceiling, feeling the weight of responsibility pressing down like physical force.
[SURVIVAL PROBABILITY: 23%]
[FACTORS: KIMURA'S CAPABILITY, PACK'S LIMITATIONS, INSUFFICIENT DATA ON WEAKNESSES]
[RECOMMENDATION: SEEK ADDITIONAL RESOURCES]
Twenty-three percent. Lower than the Reaper confrontation. Lower than Viktor's Siegbarste.
But I'd beaten worse odds before. Maybe.
The Key sat in its hidden compartment across the room—small, ornate, worth dying for. Viktor wanted it badly enough to send an assassin who'd killed two hundred people.
I wasn't willing to give it up. Wasn't willing to surrender everything I'd built for a piece of metal.
But I also wasn't willing to let my Pack die for stubbornness.
There had to be another option. There had to be.
I just needed to find it.
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