Chapter 27 : The Hexenbiest's Lesson
Adalind's apartment felt different at night. The harsh afternoon light that usually filled the space gave way to softer shadows, the city's glow filtering through floor-to-ceiling windows. She'd lit candles—not for atmosphere, she assured me, but for a specific purpose.
"Hexenbiest magic isn't learned like human skills." She arranged the candles in a precise pattern on her coffee table. "It's inherited, felt, channeled. You either have the capacity or you don't."
"I'm not trying to become a Hexenbiest." I sat across from her, watching her preparations. "I'm trying to understand how your magic works. Whether it can interact with what I already have."
"Why?"
The question deserved honesty.
"Because I have four extracted abilities, combat training that's barely adequate, and seven days until two legendary Reapers arrive to kill me. I need every edge I can get."
Adalind paused in her arrangements. The candlelight caught her features, softening the sharp edges that usually defined her expression.
"Most Grimms only want to know one thing about Hexenbiest magic: how to defend against it. You're the first who's asked to learn it."
"I'm not most Grimms."
"No." Something shifted in her tone. "You're not."
She finished with the candles and sat back.
"Hexenbiest power comes from emotion. Fear, anger, desire, grief—raw feelings channeled through genetic inheritance. The stronger the emotion, the stronger the magic." She gestured at the candle arrangement. "This is a focusing exercise. It teaches young Hexenbiests to direct their emotional energy into specific effects."
[HEXENBIEST MAGIC THEORY: CATALOGUING]
[POWER SOURCE: EMOTIONAL CHANNELING]
[GENETIC REQUIREMENT: HEXENBIEST BLOODLINE]
[NOTE: INCOMPATIBLE WITH GRIMM PHYSIOLOGY (THEORETICAL)]
The System's assessment was discouraging, but not definitive.
"Show me."
Adalind focused on the central candle. Her expression didn't change, but something in the air shifted—a pressure, like before a thunderstorm. The candle's flame flickered, bent, then extinguished without any visible cause.
"Telekinesis." She relit the candle with a match. "One of the simpler expressions. It requires emotional focus but minimal complexity."
"What emotion?"
"For this? Irritation." Her smile held self-awareness. "There's plenty of that available when dealing with stubborn Grimms."
I reached for the candle myself, trying to feel whatever she'd channeled. Nothing happened. The flame burned steadily, unaffected by my attention.
"Your abilities work differently." Adalind watched me with professional interest. "The pheromones, the senses, the durability—they're biological, not magical. They don't require emotional channeling because they're part of your body now."
"Can the two systems interact?"
"That's what we're testing." She moved to sit beside me—closer than necessary, but the proximity felt natural. "Activate your pheromone ability."
The Ziegevolk pheromones were the most controllable of my extracted abilities. I triggered them with a thought, feeling the subtle chemical release, the shift in how people perceived me.
[ZIEGEVOLK PHEROMONES: ACTIVE]
[EFFECTIVENESS: STANDARD (40-60% TARGET COMPLIANCE)]
[DURATION: INDEFINITE WHILE CONCENTRATED]
"Now." Adalind's voice dropped. "Instead of just releasing them, try channeling emotion through the release. Not controlling the pheromones—augmenting them."
I focused on the pheromone effect, then tried to layer feeling beneath it. Not the mechanical activation I'd practiced, but something rawer. The desire for cooperation. The need for connection.
Something shifted.
The pheromones strengthened—not dramatically, but noticeably. The effect carried emotional undertones it had lacked before, a warmth that went beyond simple chemical manipulation.
[HYBRID POTENTIAL DETECTED]
[PHEROMONE ENHANCEMENT: +15% EFFECTIVENESS]
[EMOTIONAL RESONANCE: CONFIRMED]
[NOTE: INSUFFICIENT DATA FOR FULL SYNTHESIS METHODOLOGY]
"That's interesting." Adalind's professional tone had warmed slightly. She was close enough that I could see her pulse quickening at her throat. "You're not casting magic, but you're using emotional channeling to enhance biological abilities. That shouldn't be possible."
"Why not?"
"Because Grimms and Hexenbiests don't combine. We're opposite ends of the Wesen power spectrum." She was studying me now with genuine curiosity. "Your extracted abilities must have changed something fundamental about your physiology. Created pathways that normal Grimms don't have."
I let the pheromones fade, breaking the enhanced effect. The room felt smaller suddenly—more intimate, more dangerous.
"Can you teach me more?"
"I can try." Adalind gathered her notes—she'd been documenting everything, as methodical as any researcher. "But understand: we're in uncharted territory. There's no guide for what you're becoming."
"What am I becoming?"
The question hung between us. She didn't answer immediately, instead organizing papers with excessive attention.
"Something new." Finally, she met my eyes. "Something that terrifies me and fascinates me in equal measure."
"Is that a compliment or a warning?"
"Both."
We worked until dawn, testing variations, documenting results. The hybrid potential was real but limited—emotional channeling could enhance extracted abilities by small percentages, but the improvement required sustained concentration that would be impossible in combat.
Still, it was a starting point. A glimpse of possibilities the System was already calculating.
[RESEARCH: HYBRID SYNTHESIS]
[STATUS: INITIALIZED]
[ESTIMATED TIME TO COMBAT-APPLICABLE RESULTS: UNKNOWN]
[NOTE: CONTINUED EXPERIMENTATION RECOMMENDED]
The morning light filtered through Adalind's windows, catching dust motes in golden beams. At some point during the night, she'd made coffee; at some point, we'd moved from sitting across from each other to side by side on her couch. Neither of us mentioned it.
"Seven days," she said quietly.
"Seven days."
"Der Scharfrichter once killed a Grimm who'd been hunting for thirty years. Experience doesn't guarantee survival against him."
"I know."
"So what's your plan?"
I looked at the notes scattered across her coffee table. The candles, burned down to stubs. The dawn light making everything feel both more real and more fragile.
"The same as always. Build advantages. Position allies. Prepare traps." I met her eyes. "And hope it's enough."
"That's not very reassuring."
"It's honest."
Adalind was quiet for a moment. Then she reached out and took my hand—a simple gesture, but unexpected enough to make me freeze.
"If you survive this," she said, "we should have a conversation about what happens next."
"If?"
"When." Her grip tightened briefly before releasing. "When you survive this."
I left her apartment as Portland woke around me. Seven days until the Reapers arrived. Seven days to prepare for the two most dangerous monster hunters in the world.
But for the first time since the deadline was set, the countdown felt less like a death sentence and more like a deadline.
I worked well with deadlines.
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