An Uneasy Accord

Chapter 13 - Confrontation

A/N: I don't own anyone but my OC's….though I wished I owned the rest…*sighs*

The next morning found the hunter on an intense run. Her feet pounded furiously against the damp pavement, perhaps hoping to cleanse the body of last night's ills. The iPod streamed the sweet sounds of Judas Priest as that modern teeny bopper crap grated on her nerves, especially that whiny kid Justin Bieber. God how he ever got a recording contract was beyond her realm of comprehension!

The sun was peeking over the trees as Brooklyn reached the corner at the edge of downtown and chased away the lingering traces of fog. Her body flourished as beads of sweat trickled down her face and chest, quickly coating her skin in a fine sheen. The tape remained plastered to the back of her neck, protecting the fresh wounds left behind from the previous night. Brooklyn remained unsure about Derek at this point, especially after his display of violence towards her. She was still rattled to say least as the image of his feral eyes burned in the back of her mind. It was the cold hatred that scared her the most, the deep reaching rage that briefly but prominently dominated his beautiful depths. Yet she also felt sympathy for Derek somewhere between the tears and sobs of anguish.

If he wants my help so damn bad then he can come to me!

As the hunter rounded the corner, her carefree thoughts came to a dead halt along with her feet. The squad car had pulled up with Sheriff Stalinsky escorting Derek, who was cuffed. What the Hell was going on!

Brooklyn watched in horror as the spiky haired werewolf was led up the steps towards the station. Her heart dropped at the sight and could only watch from a distance. People walked around and by her, ignoring the red haired woman standing in the middle of the sidewalk. Some rudely brushed by while a few went around without uttering a word.

Derek turned his head as a breeze carried her scent his way. He watched as Brooklyn subconsciously put a hand to the back of her neck and let it stay there for a moment. His sharp sight caught the stunned expression frozen upon her features before the door swung open blocking his eyes from hers. A horn blaring in the distance knocked Brooklyn from her trance and the hunter sprinted back to the hotel.

She hurried and showered then threw on the last clean pair of jeans and shirt she had in her bag then raced towards the jail.

Derek was stretched out on the lumpy cot, staring up towards the ceiling. His hands were folded behind his head as silence was his only companion. He listened to the flurry of activity outside the door; some related to his incarceration while others conducted the daily routines and business of operating the county jail. The deafening silence was interrupted by the sound of the door opening up alerting Derek to the presence of another. He didn't look up as it was probably another deputy or some other lackey doing the menial work for the sheriff. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath but held his breath at the familiar scent.

"Brooklyn," he sat up to see the hunter standing before the bars. Her hands were lightly wrapped around them as she contemplated his situation. Her wound from Argent's arrow was almost completely healed as the scent of dried blood and skin radiated from her side. But the marks he left behind were fresh and deep.

"I don't know why I'm here," she sighed, "Considering what you did."

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "My anger got the best of me."

"Is this how you thank people for trying to help you? I didn't do anything that any average person couldn't do. What you did….." Sadness echoed in her voice.

She stopped and looked at her hands then lifted one towards the gauze and tape on her neck.

"What you did…." She started to say.