Unraveling » Stiles Stilinski

❦ Chapter Thirteen ❦

*Disclaimer; I do not own Teen Wolf, Jeff Davis does and yada yada yada.*

❦ Chapter Thirteen ❦

Opal

"I'm tired." I whined to Stiles as we sneaked around the back of a club. The both of us had our eyes peeled for Jackson as we tried to catch up with Scott. After finding out that Jackson was the bloody Kanima, we went on a little Kanima hunt to track the bastard down.  

"You could've just stayed home."  Stiles responded with a sigh. His fingers were clamped around my wrist tightly, pulling me with him at a faster pace until we were almost jogging.

I scoffed quietly. "And miss out on all the action? Ha, I don't think so. I want to see you and Scott do yo' thang."

"Holy hell, please do not do that accent ever again."

I pouted playfully. "That isn't very- Oh, look. There's Scotty." I said catching sight of Scott. His back was facing us as he peered around the corner, which I guessed was the entrance into the club. Stiles and I quietly walked up to Scott, who turned around the exact moment we were right behind him.

He jumped back in surprise. "Oh my g-"

"Whoa, boy." I put my hands up in surrender.

Stiles clapped on Scott's shoulder. "Sorry, sorry. Did you see where he went?"

Scott sighed in exasperation. "Nah, I lost him."

"What?" I hissed. "You didn't catch a scent?" I questioned, my eyebrows furrowing.

"I don't think he has one," he said looking at me. If he didn't have a scent, how the hell was Scott tracking him? I was so confused.

"Alright, any clue where he's going?" Stiles asked Scott.

"To kill someone," Scott answered and I groaned in impatience.

"Right, that explains the claws and the fangs and all of that. It makes perfect sense now." Stiles and I shot at him sarcastically with a glare. We turned to each other in surprise. We had just said the exact same thing. Two sentences. Seventeen words. I was sort of freaked.

Scott  shook his head, as if he was done with our shit. I couldn't help but be a bit moody. Just earlier I got my face and my rib cage punched in by a little teenage werewolf, which left a nasty bruise on my face. I didn't care too much about the one on my ribs, that could be concealed by whatever I wore. Yes, it hurt like a mother-trucking bitch, but my face however would prove to be a challenge.

"What? Scott - come on. I'm a hundred and fourty-seven pounds of pale skin fragile bones. Sarcasm is my only defense,"

I scoffed. "And I'm like a hundred and something pounds. Who bloody knows? Plus, I've also got one freaking ugly bruise on my face. I'm more fragile than this ass-"

"Just help me find it!" Scott cut me off.

Stiles threw his arms up in the air in a spastic manner. "Not it. Jackson."

"I know, I - I know."

"Guys, but does he know that? Did anybody else see him back at your house?" I asked directing the question to Scott.

His eyebrows furrowed deeply. "I, I don't think so. But he already passed Derek's test."

"Yeah, but that's just the thing. How did he past the test?" Stiles asked us curiously.

"We don't know." Scott and I said in unison.

He looked up into the dark sky. "Maybe it's like an either or thing."