Midnight Scarlet » Stilinski

Sixteen

            It’s all an act. It’s designed for Scott to think she’s not the bad guy. For me to think she’s not the bad guy.

            And then it comes. She whispers into my ear, “Aubrey, I did not appreciate that little stunt you did, and it won’t happen again. You have a role to fulfill. We all do, sweetheart.” The way she says the word sweetheart sounds like a dagger twisting in me.

            Pulling back, she says with a smile, “Who is this that you’ve brought with you, Aubrey?”

            “My name’s Scott,” he says, offering his hand as well as a smile. I want to hit him, tell him to break eye contact with her, to stop being charming. “I just want to make sure Aubrey’s safe while she’s here.”

            Roxanne laughs, but it sounds fake to my ears only. “Why would Bree not be safe here? This is her home.”

            Hogwarts is more of a home to me and you know it. I cringe when she calls me by my nickname― that’s reserved for friends and family only, and she’s neither.

            Before the way Scott continues to smile at the head alpha makes me sick, I blurt out, “Roxanne, I need you to call a pack meeting.”

            Her head whips towards me. “Why do you need one?”

            “Because,” I start, taking a deep breath. “That hunter you sent after me. Well, she’s dead.”

                                               • • •

When I finish telling the story of the past few days― leaving out much of the truth, including everyone I’ve met, my visit to the hospital, and my inevitable death― everyone is silent, their mouths gaping open in shock. There must be at least thirty of us packed into this small, dim room. Jake stands near me and Scott is even closer; I haven’t seen Ben anywhere. Roxanne seems to be the only one to keep her cool, but she doesn’t say anything.

            “I want to know who killed her,” a voice pipes in from the back― it’s another hunter, a girl with dreadlocks. “Maybe another werewolf?”

            I shake my head. “No, but it was a shape shifter. She was all cut up and sliced open.” Even visualizing it makes me want to be sick. “There’s only one thing that could do that― the wounds were too deep for normal claws or even a regular rabid animal.” My voices rises a little, bordering on hysteria. “There’s this creature running around that looks like a lizard― a gigantic lizard with venom that paralyzes you.”

            A collective laughter reaches my ears― they don’t believe me. For supernatural beings that live in the night, they should put more faith in the embodiment of the moon. “Yeah, right. It sounds like you’re just telling tales to get attention.”

            Someone else chimes in. “And meanwhile, Liz is dead. So why don’t we stop listening to your stories about the lizard-man and actually go find the sick-o that murdered her.”

            “No, I’m telling the truth!” I yell. “I’ve seen it!”

            The hunter with the dreads scoffs, “You’ve seen it? Really? Maybe you killed Liz and you’re just making up ridiculous excuses.”

            I roll my eyes. “Please. If I was guilty, why would I show up here with news that she’s dead? Just so I can say I killed her?”