Destiny [D.H.]

04

Derek's eyes flashed blue again. "I'm trying to tell you, I can't!"

"Derek, get up!"

"Help me put him in your car."

The three of us got Derek in the Jeep and he clumsily reached for my hand.

I took his hand as he said, "I need you to find out what kind of bullet they used."

"How the hell am I supposed to do that?" Scott asked.

Derek noticed Allison's car behind the Jeep. "'Cause she's an Argent. She's with them."

"Why should I help you?"

"Because you need me."

"Fine. I'll try. Hey, get him out of here."

Stiles glared at his friend. "I hate you so much for this."

Derek groaned in pain and squeezed my hand tighter as Stiles drove off.

After a little while, Stiles turned to Derek. "Hey. Try not to bleed out on my seats, okay? We're almost there."

"Almost where?" Derek asked.

"Your house."

I shook my head. "I don't think that's the best idea."

Derek nodded. "What? No, you can't take me there."

Stiles' brow furrowed. "I can't take you to your own house?"

"Not when I can't protect myself."

"All right. What happens if Scott doesn't find your magic little bullet? Hmm? Are you dead?"

"Not yet. I have a last resort."

Stiles stopped the Jeep. "What do you mean? What last resort?" Derek lifted his sleeve. "Oh, my God. What is that? Oh, is that contagious? You know what, you should probably just get out."

I glanced at Derek who was sweating profusely as I held my left arm. "Stiles, now might be a good time to start the car."

He glanced at me. "Why are you in pain?"

"Just drive!"

"Start the car. Now," Derek demanded.

Stiles narrowed his eyes. "I don't think you should be barking orders with the way you look, okay? In fact, I think if I wanted to, I could probably drag your little werewolf ass out into the middle of the road and leave you for dead."

"Start the car, or I'm gonna rip your throat out--with my teeth."

Stiles started the car and I attempted to call Scott to inform him of Derek's condition, but, mid-ring, my phone decided to die. "Stiles, call Scott. My phone died."

Stiles dialed Scott's number and asked, "What am I supposed to do with him?"

"Take him somewhere, anywhere."

"And, by the way, he's starting to smell. Ella's hurting."

"Like--like what? Why?"

"Like death. Mate thing."

I was slightly surprised Stiles knew that, as I was pretty sure I hadn't told him. I figured he'd found it in his research and assumed so... An obviously right assumption.

"Okay, take him to the Animal Clinic."

"What about your boss?"

"He's gone by now. There's a spare key in the box by the dumpster."