Nature and Nurture: Finding the Perfect Blend

Chapter 22: The Ending

Brine had settled somewhat from his outburst, dismissing Beard Guy who'd poked his head into the tent to check if everything was okay.

"What about your men? Who are they?" Stiles asked.

Brine gave an uncaring hand wave. "Others who have lost loved ones to the fae."

Stiles' eyebrows rose, not believing it was as simple as that. "The boy didn't know who I am."

Brine smirked. "He doesn't. He lost his dad to something. I just said it was your kind."

"What killed him?"

"No idea. Enough talking, the day's at an end. Time to die."

"No," Stiles disagreed, and stood up.

That stopped Brine. "No? I don't think you fully grasp the situation you're in, Stiles. I have your dad and the depute. I will kill them if you fight this."

"You'll kill them anyway, so no." This was the tricky part of Stiles' plan, he had to push in just the right way.

"Then we're at a stalemate. Unless I kill them, then you," Brine said.

"You kill them, I'll fight you. And you'll die." Stiles had never been more certain of anything in his life.

Brine thinned his lips. "Hmmm, alright. A bargain then. A binding pact?" His smile was nasty.

Stiles ignored the shock that Brine yet again knew something about the fae. He shouldn't keep being surprised Brine had so much information. "A binding pact," he agreed.

"I agree neither I, nor the people who work for me, will grievously harm or kill the sheriff or depute of Beacon Hills, whom at this moment are being held hostage in our camp, if the fae, Stiles Stilinski, does not fight his death by my hands," Brine intoned, eyes still glittering.

Stiles paused, weighing Brine's words. "You'll also let them go free," he added.

Brine twisted up the corner of his mouth. "The sheriff and depute will be released as soon as you have fulfilled your part."

Stiles wanted his dad out of the camp before anything went down, but he couldn't see Brine allowing that, considering how paranoid he was. He nodded. "I agree to not fight my death at the hands of Gavin Brine, if he complies with his agreement in regards to the Sheriff and depute of Beacon Hills. He should note, however, that my death will not void the binding pact, failure to comply on his part will result in negative repercussions." Stiles waited for Brine to agree. The man had paused as Stiles spoke, and Stiles smirked, knowing Brine had thought killing him meant he didn't have to worry about honoring his vow. But the magic would not let go so easily.

Brine scowled but then his face cleared. "No matter. When I have the power of the Nemeton, your father will never find me."

"Do you agree to the pact?" Stiles pushed, wanting to hurry things up. Just like Deaton, Brine didn't ask for stipulations as to what the punishment would be if he broke the pact. He also didn't ask anything more of Stiles than just not fighting him, when he could have very easily. Stiles wasn't going to educate on this fact. He held up his little finger. "It's a thing," he said, in explanation to Brine's unimpressed look.

Brine sneered but nodded his head. "I agree to the pact." He hooked his finger in with Stiles'.

They both gasped as the binding magic rushed around them and settled. Stiles would never get used to it. He released Brine's finger as soon as he could and stepped back, brushing his hands down his thighs to get rid of the tingling magic. There was a new little spark in him, the connection to Brine that would advise if the pact was broken. Having it was a necessary evil, but one that made Stiles want to throw up.