The Mellifer scout's report arrived at dawn on day twenty-five.
"Female, late forties, silver-eyed. Moving through Portland with professional awareness." Sarah's compound eyes glittered with concern as she delivered the intelligence. "She matches historical profiles for the Burkhardt line."
"Kelly Burkhardt." I studied the surveillance photographs. "Nick's mother. Presumed dead for eighteen years."
"Apparently not." Sarah spread additional documents across the planning table. "She's been spotted at three locations in the past twelve hours: the airport, a weapons dealer on the east side, and the cemetery where Marie Burkhardt is buried."
[THREAT ASSESSMENT: KELLY BURKHARDT]
[STATUS: ACTIVE GRIMM (SENIOR)]
[EXPERIENCE: 30+ YEARS]
[METHODOLOGY: TRADITIONAL (KILL ALL WESEN)]
[CURRENT ACTIVITY: SURVEILLANCE/RECONNAISSANCE]
Kelly Burkhardt was a legend in Wesen circles—not the kind of legend I was becoming, but the older kind. The terrifying kind. She'd killed more Wesen than most Grimms managed in a lifetime, operating across continents, leaving no witnesses and fewer survivors.
Her supposed death had been celebrated in underground communities worldwide.
"What's she doing in Portland?" Monroe had joined the briefing, moving slowly but coherently. "Her son's here, obviously, but she's been hiding for almost two decades. Why surface now?"
"Two possibilities." I pulled up additional intelligence from the Mellifer network. "First: Nick's awakening. She might have contacts who reported his development, drawn her back to evaluate him."
"And second?"
"The Mauvais Dentes." I pointed to a timeline I'd constructed. "Kimura arrived in Portland two weeks ago. Kelly arrived three days after his death. That's too close to be coincidence."
"She was hunting him too." Monroe's voice held something like respect. "Makes sense. Kimura killed Grimms. Kelly's been operating underground. She might have been tracking him for years."
"And now she finds out someone else killed him first." I considered the implications. "A Grimm who works with Wesen. Who's built a Pack. Who represents everything she's fought against her entire career."
"She's going to want to meet you."
"Yes. The question is whether she approaches peacefully or violently."
I spent the next twenty-four hours observing Kelly Burkhardt, using every surveillance resource the Pack had developed.
She was good. Better than good—her awareness was absolute, her movements precise, her ability to detect observation almost supernatural. Twice she nearly spotted Mellifer scouts I'd positioned. Three times she swept for electronic surveillance with equipment I didn't recognize.
But I had advantages she didn't expect. The Blutbad senses let me track her from distances that should have been impossible. The Hundjäger instincts identified patterns in her movement that revealed destinations before she reached them.
On day twenty-six, I watched her visit Nick's home.
She waited until he left for work, then entered through a window I would have sworn was secured. Twenty minutes inside, touching nothing, taking nothing. Just observing.
When she emerged, her expression was complex—grief and pride and something that might have been regret.
"She's evaluating him." Adalind's voice came through my earpiece. She'd positioned herself three blocks away, maintaining secondary surveillance. "Deciding if he's worth revealing herself to."
"Or deciding if he's too compromised to trust."
"Same thing, from her perspective." Adalind paused. "Cross, she's dangerous. More dangerous than Kimura, in some ways. He was a predator—predictable, focused on the hunt. Kelly's been fighting a war for thirty years. She knows how to destroy organizations, not just individuals."
"I know."
"So what's your plan?"
I watched Kelly disappear into Portland's afternoon crowd, her silver eyes hidden behind sunglasses, her weapons concealed beneath a jacket that fit like armor.
"I'm going to approach her before she approaches me. Control the timing, control the narrative."
"That's insane."
"Probably." I smiled despite the danger. "But I'd rather meet her on ground I choose than wait for her to pick the battlefield."
The rest of the day went to preparation. I selected the meeting location—Marie Burkhardt's section of Portland's main cemetery. Neutral ground, symbolically significant, far enough from civilian populations that violence wouldn't cause collateral damage.
I chose weapons carefully. The sword that had killed Kimura. A crossbow with modified bolts. Backup knives in three locations. Nothing that would make her feel threatened, nothing that would make me feel defenseless.
And I prepared arguments. Explanations for what I'd built, reasons for why it worked, evidence that the old ways weren't the only ways. Kelly had spent her life following traditions that had existed for centuries. Convincing her to see alternatives wouldn't be easy.
But I had to try.
Because if Kelly Burkhardt decided the Pack was an abomination, she had the skills to destroy everything I'd built. Not through direct assault—I'd survived those—but through precision. Targeting key members. Exploiting vulnerabilities. Unraveling the network thread by thread.
I'd beaten Reapers. I'd beaten a Mauvais Dentes. I'd even survived Viktor's political machinations.
But Kelly was something different. A Grimm who'd been fighting since before I was born. A hunter who'd made killing Wesen her entire purpose.
If she couldn't be convinced, she might have to be stopped.
And I wasn't sure I could stop her.
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