Voices - Liam Dunbar

Chapter 1 - Aging Backwards

"The part of the lunar phase when the moon is least visible in the sky," Lydia said, looking worried.

"But do you know it's meaning?"

Lydia sighed. "Some people say it's a time of reflection. Or grief."

"Grief and loss, mija," she turned around. "I wonder why, when you and your friends have suffered so much loss, you would risk it again for someone like Derek Hale."

"Cause we don't like to lose," Stiles said.

Suddenly Severo's radio went off. Some people spoke Spanish but when he asked about the north end, there was no answer.

Then Adela heard Scott's voice. "Stiles. Take ten off the table."

Stiles leaned over, grabbing one wad of cash.

"Maybe you should just take the deal," Lydia suggested.

The woman gave a small laugh as Severo exited the room. She leaned closer to the three. "While I am keen to follow the warnings of a banshee, I'm going to have to decline." Then she grinned, smugly.

That can't be good, Adela thought.

"Alright, come on, just give us Derek. You don't want them anyway. Haven't you noticed what a downer he is? No sense of humor, poor conversationalist. Just come on, take the money."

Adela started thinking. If the Calaveras had Derek, they should have caved by know and taken the money.

"You don't know where he is, do you? If you did, you would have taken the deal already," Adela stated.

Instead of taking Stiles' advice, the woman grabbed the walky-talky. "Severo? Show them how the Calaveras negotiate."

•*•*•*•

Flashback:

"Okay so how long has it been?" Stiles asked.

Scott, Stiles, Lydia, and Adela were all at the animal clinic.

"Weeks," Scott replied. "He hasn't gotten back to any of my texts."

"Derek ever return your texts?" Stiles said.

Scott sighed. "Once. Defiantly once. But this time it felt different. So I went to the loft, the alarm was on. Everything looked okay. But then I found these." Scott slid over a mettle canister full of gold bullets with skulls engraved on them.

Stiles reached down to examine one. "So I sent a picture of it to Deaton. He said it's the mark of a family of hunters based out of Mexico. Tha Calaveras."

"Why would they want Derek?" Adela asked, pushing a loose strand of dark hair out of her face.

"You don't think they killed him, do you?" Stiles said, looking at Scott.

"I... I don't know," he said, then Scott looked at Lydia. "That's why you're here."

She sighed, pulling the canister towards her. She picked it up, sinking her hand into it, feeling the bullets. She took out a hand full, rolling them around in her hand, then dropped them on the metal table.

"What, is he dead?" Stiles asked when Lydia looked away.

"No," she stated. "But I'm not sure he's alive either."

"What does that mean?" Scott asked her.

"I don't know." She paused, then continued. "There's something not right I just... I don't know."