Grimm: The Killing Time by Tim Waggoner Read Free Book Online Page B

the higher ones with almost ridiculous ease. The creature had worn many faces during the course of its long life, and it had possessed many bodies. But it had never experienced such strength and energy before. It was almost intoxicating, and it—no,
he
—couldn’t help laughing with exuberance as he ran.
    Normally after a transformation, the Wechselbalg’s mind was a jumble of information as the new memories he had acquired from his latest host settled. But his current confusion was far worse than usual. A riot of sights, sounds, thoughts, and emotions swirled inside the creature’s brain, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t make sense of the deluge. He wasn’t even sure why he was running, only that it was really important that he do so. Eventually he found himself jogging down a sidewalk, and he slowed to a walk. He didn’t feel tired in the slightest, and he wasn’t breathing hard either. Extraordinary!
    He maintained a brisk pace as he walked, and was soon out of the residential area and entering a business district. Nothing fancy, just gas stations, fast-food restaurants, and convenience stores. The street was busier here—more pedestrians and vehicles—and the Wechselbalg felt more relaxed. Camouflage was the creature’s primary defense, and his kind always felt more comfortable when lost in a crowd.
    He wasn’t sure how long he continued walking, but eventually his mind began to clear and he was able to start making sense of the newfound data crammed into his skull. The first thing he realized was that something had gone wrong this time. The information he possessed was fragmentary and incomplete. Was something wrong with the man he’d duplicated? Was he ill, or worse, insane? But as the Wechselbalg continued sifting through the imperfect memories, he realized what had happened. The man he’d copied—a police detective, as it turned out—was a Grimm. The realization came as such a shock that he stopped walking. People gave him strange looks as they moved around him, but he paid them no attention.
    A Grimm… He knew about them, of course. What Wesen didn’t? But he’d never see one before, let alone interacted with one. And he’d done much more than that, hadn’t he? He’d
joined
with one, taken on his shape and copied his memories. Some of them, at any rate.
    Although he hadn’t witnessed it, he assumed the Grimm had undergone the
Auflösen
, the dissolving process, just as all his other victims had. But the Wechselbalg’s new memories told him the Grimm hadn’t worked alone. He had friends, allies, some of them quite powerful. He experienced a surge of fear accompanied by a powerful urge to shed this form and don another so the Grimm’s companions wouldn’t recognize him. Without thinking, he flexed his hands and black spines began to emerge. He would grab hold of the next person who came within reach—man, woman, young, old, it didn’t matter—and he would assume their identity right here in the open, regardless of who might see.
    A tall, redheaded woman wearing a tight, long-sleeved black dress came toward him, and he started to raise his hands. But then he hesitated. The bodies he took these days didn’t last long at all, but so far this one was showing no signs of wear. It was strong, far stronger than any he’d ever had before. Did he really want to give it up so soon?
    The redheaded woman passed by, giving him a glance and a smile as she did. He watched her go, his finger spines retracting.
    The Grimm’s allies didn’t matter, he decided, for the simple reason that
he
was the Grimm now. He could fool them into thinking he was their friend. After all, he’d had many years of experience at pretending to be something he wasn’t. All he had to do was get to know who the Grimm was and become him. Simple as that.
    A memory came to him then, the sound of a woman’s voice, so strong and clear it was almost as if she were present and speaking right next to him.
    You have to