|| To The Surface
In the late morning hours the following day, it was strange to report than no more deaths had occurred on the path to Beacon Hills. No calls to the Sheriff's station about missing people, nor any bodies rolled into the morgue. Silence.
Had Jacy's plan to hide in the frozen tundra of Canada worked?
A plan of which no one had been informed of.
And although Jordan had been called to a secret hideout of the Argent family where they could meet and plot in peace, he and his grandmother were the only ones other than the ghosts that knew where Jacy had gone.
To everyone else, she had just disappeared.
She was good at that.
To Parrish's surprise, it seemed that the Argents hadn't called on him to talk about his sister, but instead about himself. With Sheriff Stilinski's blessing, he had taken the day off of work at the station and was spending his morning in a poorly lit room that smell faintly of lavender and another flower he couldn't quite pinpoint.
With all of the teens secured at school, Parrish and the two Argents had the space to themselves.
Jordan's entire life had been put on display, Chris and Gerard leafing through his every bit of his existence to get to the bottom of it all.
"My clairvoyance was triggered in high school," Jordan explained "I died in a car crash and was brought back. After that, I went into the military. I worked with I.E.D.s in Afghanistan, where there were more ghosts than people on a good day."
Gerard sighed from one of the many work benches, his arm folded across his chest. "And you came to Beacon Hills before your sister, correct?"
Jordan nodded lightly. "About a month before. Jace and Mom ended up coming for another reason after I got here."
"And what was yours?"
The deputy paused, his eyes narrowing. "What?"
"Why did you come here?" Gerard asked. "Why did you move to Beacon Hills?"
He shrugged gently. "The station was hiring. I wanted a change of pace. Less snow. A lot of the guys I worked with overseas always talked California up."
Gerard shook his head. "You were drawn here from the same thing that you set the first bodies on. It was Allison and her friends that triggered the Nemeton, which returned to it's state as literal beacon. It drew supernatural creatures from all over, whether they knew it or not. You took a job at a police station that has one of the worst death rates for cops, but there was a part of your brain that blocked that fact out so you could come here. That part of you wanted to be here."
"But that was still because of my clairvoyance," Jordan countered, squinting as he tried to process the information. "I was clairvoyant until what, the end of the deadpool? I...I forgot everything about ghosts for a while."
"Tell us more about that," Chris requested, his voice much kinder than his father's. "Allison was the one who found you, right? While she was still a spirit?"
Jordan nodded hesitantly. "That's what she said. I don't remember that night at all. She said that she found me somewhere outside. My memory of the supernatural was wiped after that. Jacy and everyone else had to fill me in over time to trigger it all back. After my clairvoyance was removed, all I could feel was a warmth. I had no idea what I was, but I was fireproof. During the deadpool, one of the coworkers tried to burn me alive but it did nothing to me."
Gerard sighed as he retrieved an old family book, flipping to a drawing of a large dog-looking creature in a forest.
Jordan's face scrunched at the image. "What's that supposed to be?" he asked. "Werewolf?"
"No," the prior villain replied. "It's called a Hellhound."
The deputy's heart thudded in his chest, eyes trailing from the Argents before looking into a small mirror. He studied his own face before returning to the image and of a hellish looking dog, an unsettled feeling coating his stomach.
"What else do you remember from that night that Allison found you?" Chris asked.
Jordan shook his head, drawing a full blank. "Allison told me that I said, 'I rise from the ashes' in Latin before passing out."
Gerard retrieved a small blowtorch from one of many cabinets littered with both conventional and unconventional weapons before slowly he rounded the counters towards Jordan. "You hid the bodies of the Chimeras."
Argent crossed behind the deputy as Gerard came from the front. "You've got a resistance to fire."
The memory of Deputy Haigh burning Jordan alive surged in his mind.
Gerard lit the blowtorch, approaching the eldest Parrish child. "We were wondering just how flame retardant are you, Deputy?"
Jordan was jerked back as Argent secured his arms behind himself. "What the hell are you doing?" he snapped.
Gerard grabbed Jordan's jaw, gripping tight to keep the cop from struggling as he brought the blowtorch up to his face.
As the burning blue flame neared Jordan's skin, his eyes began to sear a fiery orange. He let out a roar, fangs protruding as he ripped free from both Argents' grasps.
And when he caught an image of himself in the mirror, his heart dropped.
He had seen the eyes once before off the reflection of the elevator that he had touched Jacy in, but that was the first time he had witnessed what he truly was.
"Hellhound," Jordan softly said, the shift falling away. He looked to Gerard, his pulse still ticking down from great heights. "And what if you were wrong? Would you have burned my eye out?"
"Yeah," Gerard flatly replied, ceasing the flame from the blowtorch.
Jordan turned back to Chris. "This guy's your father?"
Argent sighed. "Wasn't my choice."
"I guess I know the feeling," Jordan murmured, shaking off his nerves as he stepped away for a moment. "Our father is a homicidal maniac as well."
Gerard's lips pursed. "That's a little harsh, don't you think?"
"You really are a piece of work, aren't you?" Parrish bit back.
As Gerard shrugged in response, Jordan's phone began to buzz violently in his back pocket.
"Hang on, it's my mom." Jordan held up a finger, turning over his back to the Argents. "Mom?"
"Sweetheart, oh my god," Olivia stressed, gasping for air at the sound of her son's voice. "Have you heard from your sister?"
Jordan's eyes closed. "Mom, I-"
"The police just called. Not our police."
"What do you mean?"
"The Canadian police, Jordan." Her voice was taught and panicked, fizzling high in her chest. "They found her car just across the border." Tears hummed in her throat. "It was wrapped around a tree."
Jordan's stomach plummeted, dozens of scenarios running through his mind. Guilt was his only friend, but fear ticked deeper in his chest. "Was...was she in the car?" He pressed a cool hand to his forehead, able to feel the Argents staring in his direction. "Is she..."
"They said she wasn't in the car. They said there was no sign of her," Olivia breathily replied, only for it to grow in anxiety. "What the hell was she doing up there? Her passport, keys and phone were all still in the car! Why would she be going to Canada?"
"Mom, calm down for a second." Although he tried to be soothing, it came off just as anxious as his mother as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "What city was her car found in?"
Shuffling sounded on the other side of the phone, distant beeps and clinks signaling she was still in the hospital. "Surrey, in British Columbia. It's just across the Washington border."
"I'm going to make a couple calls, all right? Just hang tight. I'll let Stilinski know."
"Could you let Chris know if you see him?" she asked, the draining of her soul coming through the receiver. "He hasn't answered me in a day or so. It makes me think he might know something."
Jordan glanced over his shoulder to Argent, assuring his mother that he would do so. "Yeah, I'll tell him. I love you, Mom. We'll figure it out. Just go home and I'll be there in a little bit."
He wanted to assure her that Jacy would likely call, but he knew that she wouldn't.
As he ended the conversation and slinked his phone back into his pocket, he turned around with a sigh. "I might have not mentioned a...crucial detail."
Still holding the blow torch leisurely, Gerard said, "Go on."
"I spoke to Jacy yesterday."
The relation between Gerard and Chris was clear as expressions of concern and anger crossed their faces in sync.
"Just before she drove her car to Canada," Jordan added with a wince.
If their heads could had lit on fire, they would have.
"And you didn't feel like sharing that information?" Gerard barked. "You spoke to the Beast in natural form!"
"Stop calling her that!" Jordan snapped.
Argent held up a hand poised between the two, letting out a sharp sigh. "Now's not the time. Parrish, what did your mom have to say?"
"The Canadian police found her car," Jordan bit the inside of his lip as he shook his head, "wrapped around a tree just across the border. Everything but Jacy was still in the car."
And while Chris' face twisted into fear, Gerard laughed.
"Have you not learned that she can't be stopped? Not by running away, not by fleeing to the corners of the earth," Gerard bitterly said through a cruel smile. "She may eat the entirety of British Columbia, but she can still smell home."
Jordan gritted his teeth, bearing down so hard that for a moment he thought he'd cracked a tooth. "She was trying to save us."
"And now more people will become her dinner." The aged hunter gave three slow claps. "What a smart girl. She'll be back soon enough, once her belly is full. Then the fun can begin."
Chris tried to pull the deputy's attention. "Jordan, we can-"
The deputy snapped up a finger, pointing at him. "Don't. I'm going to figure this out. I'm the one that let her go. I would have put her in cuff if I could touch her."
"What a nightmare family you are," Gerard sighed.
Jordan's eyes narrowed. "That's hilarious coming from you." He took a step up closer to Chris, jabbing his chest. "If my mother calls you or texts, you answer her. You don't ignore it, especially in times like these. She cares about you, so either speak to her or let her go because she doesn't deserve to be treated like she doesn't matter. Our dad was already enough of a jackass. She doesn't need to be disappointed by someone else."
Snatching his jacket from the counter, Jordan thundered out of the elusive Argent hideout with rage in his chest and pain in his heart.
He should have stopped her, but what could he have done? He can't touch her, and he's never been able to talk her out of anything in her life.
So, what good was he?
A call to Stilinski hummed against his ear, ring after ring failing to connect. He willed for his boss to answer, to offer any kind of help.
Could they be helped?
"Come on, Sheriff," Jordan grumbled as he emerged above ground and hauled ass into his patrol car. "Come on-"
"Stilinski."
"Sheriff, thank god. It's Parrish," he said, running a hand along his jaw as his stomach swirled. "Jacy...she left town. She tried to get away to stop herself, but...I need you to look something up. It might not be in the international records share, but look up Surry, British Columbia."
"Parrish, are you okay?" the sheriff questioned. "Why are you asking about Cana-"
"Please, just do it. Animal attacks, murders. Similar to the stuff that's been coming through the station." He breathed in, blood pounding in his ears as he tried to keep his voice steady. "From last night and early this morning."
Stilinski sighed, agreeing before swapping the call to speaker. The clicking of his keyboard came through, followed by a long pause.
"Sheriff?"
"There's...five cities reporting an increase in violent attacks," Stilinski said, his voice low. "Two in Canada, one in Washington and...two in Oregon." He sighed. "Is this her? What does it mean?"
Jordan's eyes pinched shut. "It means she's coming back to Beacon Hills."
||
Get to the surface.
Get to the surface. Get to the surface.
Jacy sucked in a hard breath as the world burst into life around her, gasping deep as fading sunlight poured in.
Wind roared on all sides, speed under her despite stable feet.
She gasped as her hands gripped tight around a steering wheel of a vehicle flying down the highway bearing California road markers. "No! No, no," she strained through gritted teeth, slamming on the breaks as she veered off to the shoulder. "She can't bring me back."
Jacy's heart thrummed in her chest as the car skidded to a halt, horns blaring as others on the road raced past her. Her stomach rolled as low sun beamed in. How long have I been out? As she tried to reach for the gear shift, her hands struggled to release. She pried them off, an audible squelch meeting her.
Blood.
She let out a sound of distress, red-stained hands rigid as she turned them over. "No, no," she mumbled, eyes welling as she searched for anything that could relieve her of the mounting reality. Unhindered by a seatbelt that had never been clipped, she slid to the center section of the open cab vehicle. A truck, she thought. Not mine.
A tear fell over her cheek as she tried to rub the dried blood off on her pants, only to find more.
Jacy gasped as she pulled the hem of her shirt out, the once soft material spattered in dark red. She swore aloud, more tears making their way down as she grabbed a crumpled t-shirt from the passenger's seat and forced herself to change.
A rifle through the glove compartment offered her wet wipes to remove the blood, but it also gave her a name: Jason Marks.
The owner of the vehicle she was driving, and someone she likely killed.
Among others, she couldn't help but think as she tore open the wet wipes and started on her hands. Her gaze flickered between the sky and her hands, the pinks beginning to meld in her vision as tears skewed down her face.
The sun was setting.
And she knew that meant the Beast was coming.
Jacy scrubbed at her arms, the tears coming stronger as it struggled to leave her and the wipes mounted up beside her. The evidence. Think about the evidence. An agonizing breath left her lips as she plucked another wipe and began cleaning off the steering wheel.
She wiped down everything she might have touched, even on her frantic exit of the vehicle as she realized her phone hadn't made the trip with her.
Tall trees lined each side of the highway, wind bristling around her as she rounded the deep red pickup truck. There was no doubting she was in Northern California.
She could be in Beacon Hills by moonrise.
Jacy's jaw tightened as she watched the sun mock her, the pink hue blooming at the tree line. She held the wad of spent wet wipes and her bloody shirt tight in one arm and vaulted the road barrier, bolting into the forest in the opposite direction of home.
She wanted to call Isaac, but she knew that even if she could, there wouldn't be enough time. She wished she had gone to him instead of trying to flee.
Dead is better than this, she thought as leaves crunched under fast feet. Panic ran through her bones as she tried to form a plan, but all she could think of was the blood. Images of chaos and bloodshed rippled behind her eyes as she ducked between the trees, the horrific sounds of her deeds whispering to her like the spirits would.
"You're a tough one."
Jacy skidded to a stop, woods swarming her on all sides. Goosebumps creeped down her arms as she looked around, gripping the bundle of evidence tighter. "No, no I got rid of you."
"You thought so, but you only put me to sleep," the voice taunted.
The French accent made Jacy's blood curdle and her stomach drop, but her thoughts were only on the setting sun disappearing below the trees. She took off on her same path, desperation growing in her chest.
"Your love for your friends in honorable. It's a shame I'll have to kill them."
"Stop it!" Jacy shouted, her head beginning to ache as she pushed herself to run faster. "You-"
Jacy yelped as her legs pulled from underneath her, the teen tumbling forward in a protective somersault until she landed on her knees. Her head shot up, eyes wide as she looked for the invisible culprit. "I won't let you!" she shouted.
"Let me?" Annette asked, her voice like honey and so close to her Jacy's she was sure she was standing behind her. "You still think you have a say? Oh, Jacy."
Jacy pinched her eyes shut as the pounding behind her eyes grew, swarmed by Annette's presence. "This...I'm...I can't be..." Her chest seized as she tried to breathe, dry cheeks replenished by fresh tears. "I can't be the Beast."
"Don't worry. You won't be anything soon."
"You already lived your life, Annette!" she gritted through her teeth as she pushed herself up from the ground. Every step forward felt like she had on cement shoes, one foot after the other of splintering pain up her shins. "You already live in infamy as the Beast. I didn't want ask for any of this!" Tears slicked down her face, dotting onto the bundle of cloth still held tight in her hand. "I didn't want the fangs, I didn't want my clairvoyancy."
The growing night clung to Jacy like a second layer of skin as the sun slipped below the horizon and took her light with her.
Jacy's throat tightened as the weight on her feet forced her to stop. Anchor. Remember what Scott said about an anchor. She pinched her eyes shut, breathing hard as she tried to push it all away. "I just want my friends," she whispered.
"I want them too."
Jacy's arm slacked, the bloodstained items tumbling to the ground as her eyes opened to a brilliant sapphire blue. She rolled her head to the sides, cracking the tension she always carried. A soft smirk rose on her lips as she turned to face Beacon Hills.
And she ran.