Beacon ⌲ Stiles Stilinski [1] EDITING

thirty four

"Well she didn't take that as an exception with Boyd and Erica," I replied. Noticing Scott was still not able to meet my gaze, my shoulders fell. If we were going to have any luck in locating the lost boy we would need both werewolves at full attention. "Look, Stiles going missing has nothing to do with Allison. The important thing right now is to find him."

"And find out what the hell made Jackson stab himself."

"You mean who made Jackson stab himself," Scott corrected.

"Yes, just find Stiles. Please."

"We will," Isaac insisted before heading off in the direction of the school to catch a scent from Stiles' locker. With Scott right behind him, he paused only for a moment to turn his head over his shoulder and squint at me. "And you should find your grandfather."

My heartbeat pounded in my chest.

"Why?"

"Because he tried to slice me in half in the locker room at the end of the third quarter," the boy explained nonchalantly, before walking quickly out of sight with his mind set on tracking our missing person.

The gears in my mind clicked together.

I thought of where Gerard had disappeared to in the middle of the game, and why he was no longer standing menacingly on the sidelines. If he had managed to escape undetected, he could have easily taken someone with him.

Maybe I shouldn't have stuck around until the end of the game, or even until now. Maybe I should've been watching him the whole time instead of the players on the field.

Running to my car, I sped away from the school parking lot as fast as I could and drove back home with my pulse obnoxiously ringing in my ears.

When I opened our large front doors, I didn't bother announcing my arrival. Instead, I immediately stomped up the stairs and craned my neck into every room until I found all three of my family members tucked away in Allison's barren bedroom.

Gerard had his hand outstretched to rest on Allison's shoulder, who was peeling off her archery gloves. Dad stood miserably in the doorway.

"Eleanor," Gerard acknowledged my presence.

Pushing past my father, I headed straight towards the conniving, geriatric bastard who was a poor excuse for a grandfather. He should've always stayed the unimportant address sending us annual birthday cheques in the mail.

Shoving his arm to knock it off of my sister, I sneered directly in his face. "Where is he?"

"Ellie!" Allison's voice sounded offended by my actions against the man she had suddenly chosen as her role model, but I ignored her. Her choice to follow along with his plans had been offending enough already, so I didn't worry if the feeling was mutual.

"Where is he?" I repeated louder.

Gerard was staring back at me, amused.

"Who are you looking for, sweetheart?" he challenged.

"You know who I'm looking for," I seethed through my teeth. "Stiles. Stilinski."

He pretended to think for a moment. "Oh yes, is that the odd one? I heard he played a strong game tonight."

"WHERE IS HE?" I shouted, advancing towards my grandfather, only to be cut off by a strong hand grabbing my upper arm and pulling me backwards harshly. My father's hands were built like shackles.

"Eleanor, don't -" Dad scolded me as if that would have any affect on the situation, but Gerard stopped him.

"No, don't stop her," his eyes were wild. "She finally has a fire lit inside of her! Where was this the past few days while you've been rejecting your role as a leader in this family and hiding away from your responsibilities underneath the protection of your duvet and personal affections? This life does not stop for anyone, my dear. As much as I admire it, I suggest you save this passion for later and try to get some sleep if you can. I have a feeling the next twenty four hours are going to be eventful."