Stand Still // [tw/spn/sh/twl]

Chapter 15

UNDERGROUND TRADE MARKET, CALIFORNIA, SUNDAY, 5:14 A.M.
 
"This is the sketchiest place on planet earth," Lydia said as Deaton parked his car on the side of the road. In front of them was the entrance of an alleyway. Spray paint and various designs covered the brick walls and upon the steel door in the pathway was a bunch of chains and a old fashioned lock.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" Stiles asked as he stepped out off the car, the others following closely behind him. "It seems like we'll get mugged any second."

"I know what I'm doing," Deaton assured. "Don't you trust me?"

"You did indirectly threaten me earlier," Peter began, sarcasm evident in his voice, "so I'm gonna go with no."

"To be honest, out of everyone here, I value your opinion the least," Deaton stated bluntly, "and the fact that three of those people are vampires I've known for only a few hours should tell you something about yourself."

Peter rolled his eyes as Deaton stepped up to the door before pushing himself up on his toes and pressing his finger to the top of the doorframe. When he pulled his hand back, a small silver key laid on his palm.

"Not a very efficient hiding place, but I guess it makes it easier for us," Scott said, and Stiles nudged him with a small smile, causing Scott to grin in return.

"Let's go," Deaton said after having unlocked the door. He pulled it open and stepped aside, waiting for everyone else to head inside first before doing so himself, closing the door behind him.

The seven of them walked down a dimly lit and long hallway before arriving at a steel door, which Stiles could hear several muffled voices behind, and, as soon as Deaton pulled open the door, it's as if those faint voices were suddenly screaming at him in the face. They became clearer, and Stiles poked his head into the room and did a quick scan before stepping inside himself.

The room, one of many, he assumed, had rows and rows of tables littered with thousands of supernatural related items including weapons, documents, potions, and much more. Traders and sellers were behind their respective tables as costumers busily scurried around, close to all of them with bundles of cash in their hands.

"We should split up, but stay in duos," Deaton stated. He dispersed Peter's money equally for the group before they shifted into pairs; Deaton and Peter; Rosalie and Bella; Lydia and Scott; Stiles and Alice.

"Keep your eyes out for the Ivorett," Deaton began, "but, if you see anything else that may be of use or could fall into the wrong hands, buy it. I want us here no longer than an hour, and do not cause any trouble."

"That last part's for you," Stiles stated while looking at Peter, who shot the boy a small glare. The group dispersed, heading off in their pairs, and that's when Stiles' anxiety spiked.

There was a clear range of people here. You were either a seller, who all seemed to be more of your average day to day people like Deaton, or you were a buyer, who all seemed sketchy. Most were dressed as if it hide their faces and/or they were visibly impaired whether that involved some kind of innovation to help themselves get by or physical scars or wounds. Some of the buyers and sellers were clearly supernatural. Alice was clearly a vampire to onlookers. Stiles was an outlier. He was clearly human, but he knew no one could sense his powers.

"Keep your eyes on the prize," Alice stated quietly as the two of them walked along, scanning the valuables they passed. "These people take offense to lookers. Don't maintain eye contact or they'll use it as an excuse to start a fight."

"That's easy for you to say," Stiles claimed. "They're not gluing their eyes to you." Alice shrugged in response.

Stiles averted his attention to the rows of tables as he passed them. Most of what was on display were weapons. There were a few books here and there, but a majority of the items were lethal, meant for killing.