[ brett, my love, you've arrived. enjoy more baby liam and willow bonding, as well as jealous derek, and hot, arrogant brett talbot ]
☽︎
i can smell him all over you.
[ 4.05 ]
"So, the Walcotts were the first — at least, the first we know about. Four murders — Sean, his brother, and their parents. They were killed by a professional assassin called the Mute; weapon of choice, a military tomahawk. But then, the Mute was killed by Peter Hale after he tried to blow up Derek with a claymore mine. Next was Demarco. He delivered a keg to the party at Lydia's lake house and got decapitated outside his car."
As Stiles summarized everything for his father in his office, Willow sat on the couch and listened along with Scott. Yet another murder had happened, and this was done by a different assassin than the so-called Mute.
"And then, last night, twenty-three-year-old Carrie Hudson," Stiles finished. They found her body at the school. She probably ran there thinking she'd be safe.
Scott slid a sheet of paper with the list of names and numbers over to Noah. "It's a Deadpool. A hit-list of supernatural creatures. This is only part of it. The rest still has to be decoded."
"Who found this list?" Noah asked, reading all the familiar names.
"Lydia," Stiles answered.
Noah sighed tiredly. "How?"
"She wrote it," he replied. Then he rethought his answer. "Actually, she transcribed it... without realizing it."
"Banshee?"
"Banshee."
"Beautiful," Noah muttered. "All right, what are these numbers next to the names?"
Willow's stomach sank at the question but she still remained silent.
"We're getting to that. First, you need to know that the code was broken with a cipher key," Stiles said.
"Wait. You mean, like, a - like a keyword?" he asked, not quite understanding.
"It's actually a name—"
"Allison," Scott said softly. He didn't really show it, but Willow knew how much pain the name brought him. Whoever wrote this list had a sick mind to choose her as the key.
"Her name broke a third of the list," Stiles continued.
"And now we think there's two other cipher keys," Scott added.
"Which will give us the rest of the names," Noah assumed. "Okay, so, how do we get the cipher keys?"
"Same way we got the code," Stiles said.
"Lydia," Willow said softly. "She's been at the lake house all weekend, trying to find the other two keywords. She's driving herself crazy over it."
Malia quite literally had to force the banshee to take breaks to eat and sleep. While Kira and Malia stayed upstairs in the soundproofed room with Lydia, Willow spent the weekend downstairs and cleaning up after the party. Liam, not knowing what would happen to him on the full moon, had texted his friend Mason to tell him about the party. That led to pretty much every freshman at Beacon Hills High coming to the lake house.
"You didn't know about Demarco or Carrie?" Noah asked Scott. They hadn't been aware of the other werewolves in Beacon Hills. "And what about these other two names on the list? Kayleen Bettcher and Elias Town? They're werewolves, too?"
"I don't know," Scott admitted. "But Deaton said that the Nemeton would draw supernatural creatures here."
"Here being Beacon Hills, or Beacon County? The population of Beacon Hills is just under thirty-thousand," Noah told them.
"And dropping," Stiles couldn't help but chime in grimly.
"But, if we're talking Beacon County, then you're looking at close to five hundred thousand," Noah said, grimacing at the mere thought. He sighed once more as he sat at his desk. "Look, how many Werewolves, Banshees, Kitsunes, and whatever the hell else is out there are we talking about? And what if the next cipher key uncovers not twelve names, but one hundred?"
"We don't think there will be that many," Stiles told him. "There's a limit."
"Because of the numbers. We think that, once we decode the names, the numbers will add up to one-hundred-seventeen," Scott added.
"One-hundred-and-seventeen what?" Noah asked them.
"Million," Willow stated, getting up from the couch to look at the paper on the desk.
Stiles grabbed a pen and began writing K and M by the different numbers, indicating how many zeroes would follow. Each member of the pack was in the millions. And Scott and Willow sat at the top, both worth twenty-five million each. They alone were forty percent of Peter's fortune.
Someone really wanted the True Alpha and mind-controlling Incantator dead.
"One-hundred-and-seventeen million dollars, Dad," Stiles went on. "Stolen from the Hale vault and is being used by someone to finance all these murders."
"Someone who wants every supernatural in Beacon Hills dead," Scott concluded.
"So, the coded list goes out, and someone, these professional assassins get that list—"
"And a cipher key," Stiles interrupted his father.
"And then they go after the names on the list — they being killers with no mouths, tomahawks, thermo-cut wires that can take your head off?" Noah asked, making sure he understood all the details.
There were lots of evidence photos on the desk, which Stiles began flipping through. He stopped on the ones of Carrie. She was covered in stab wounds with an odd, geometric shape around each one imprinted in the skin.
"Let me see, Carrie was also stabbed. What's this mark?" Stiles asked, not recognizing it. If they knew what kind of weapon it was, they'd have a better chance at finding the new assassin.
"We're not sure yet. We're still waiting on the M.E.'s report," Noah said. Then he shook his head. "There's one other thing I don't get. How did this new assassin know that Demarco was going to be at the lake house?"
Scott chuckled nervously. "Everyone knows he delivers kegs to teenagers for a little extra cash."
"Um, something tells me the sheriff didn't know," Willow mumbled, seeing the disapproving look on Noah's face.
He decided to not comment about the underage drinking. "So, whoever ordered the keg killed Demarco."
"Yeah, it was someone at the party," Stiles said.
"A student," Scott specified.
Not just a student though, Willow knew. Because it wasn't an actual, authorized Lydia Martin party, only a certain type of student was in attendance.
"It was a freshman."
☽︎
"Are you gonna get ready for the scrimmage at the loft or your place?" Derek asked on the drive to school. Willow was in his passenger seat, making notes in her planner.
"I didn't bring my cheer shoes or my bow, so probably at home," Willow replied. "Are you actually coming to the game? You don't like lacrosse."
"I also don't like sitting home alone while there's professional assassins out there that want you dead," he said, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. "There's strength and safety in numbers — more so now than ever."
"I know there is," she said. They all had to be on the lookout for danger now. They couldn't afford to lose anyone else. "Still, I hope you don't get too bored in the stands."
"Oh, I'm sure between watching you do all your stunts and watching Stiles miss every shot, I'll be plenty entertained," he teased, pulling into the parking lot.
"That's mean," Willow said, shooting him a pouty look. "Stiles isn't that bad. He even made first line this year!"
"I'll believe it when I see it," Derek told her. Then they got out of the car, both walking toward the school. "Scott said they'd be in the locker room?"
"Yeah," she said, checking the time on her phone. "Their morning workout is just finishing up, so Liam will be in the locker room soon. By the way, have I mentioned that I hate this plan?"
"So, so many times," he said, chuckling.
Willow was less than thrilled about the plan for Derek to meet the new beta and also see how much control he had over his anger. Though Derek was the resident expert in managing anger.
Scott met the two and gave Derek the practice stick he'd be using while also swiping Liam's actual stick. Then Willow and Scott hid around the corner. It wasn't long before Liam came into the locker room. He noticed the lack of his equipment right away.
"What the hell?" he muttered to himself. "Where's my stick?"
The echo of a lacrosse stick running along the metal lockers sounded throughout the room, telling Liam where Derek was in the room. Willow had to suppress an eye-roll — Derek acting like a stalker hadn't exactly worked out well the first time around with Scott. When Liam was close enough, Derek stepped out from behind the lockers and lazily lifted the lacrosse stick.
"Is this yours?" Derek asked, a smirk on his lips. Then he quickly snapped the stick in half and tossed it to Liam's feet.
And Liam was not happy. He was shaking with anger, a low growl sounding. He glared up at Derek with yellow eyes before rushing at him. Derek acted swiftly, grabbing Liam by the throat and holding him against a locker as he struggled.
"Liam," Scott said calmly, coming out from their hiding spot.
His eyes returned to normal as the yellow glow faded, and Liam took several deep breaths to try and calm down.
"You're right," Derek said, clearly amused. "He is angry."
Liam glared down at Derek, and Willow stepped forward. "Let him down, please."
Derek did as she asked, Liam's feet hitting the ground once more. Scott then held out his actual lacrosse stick, which was in perfect condition. "This one's yours."
Liam took it while continuing to eye Derek warily. Derek only raised his chin tauntingly, knowing that Liam wasn't actually going to do anything about it.
"I'm sorry about them," Willow told Liam softly.
"I hate your boyfriend," Liam grumbled, making the correct assumption that he was the so-called jacked boyfriend.
She couldn't help but grin. Her smile helped Liam calm down a bit more. "Most do."
Then the warning bell rang, signaling that first period was about to begin.
"Get to class, Liam," Scott told the boy. As Liam trudged off, Scott looked back at Derek and noticed the slight upturn of his lips. "What are you smiling about?"
His smile widened at the question. "You're gonna be good at this."
Scott looked at him in disbelief. "Are you kidding? I am totally unprepared! Remember how you said you could teach me a few things? I think right now, I could use a full-on training manual," he mumbled.
"I'll tell you one thing," Derek said, "that anger he's got? It'll make him strong."
"And dangerous," Scott added, dishearteningly.
"Very," he said, that smile still present.
Scott sighed heavily, not nearly amused by it all as Derek. He took a seat on a bench and frowned at the ground. "I was supposed to take a page out of Willow's book. This was supposed to be the semester I could focus on school again. But Kate's back, and I've got a beta, and there's a Deadpool."
"If all of our names are on that list, then that's what we should be focused on," Derek said, taking a seat next to him. "Do you think Lydia can get that second key?"
"She's working on it," Willow said, leaning her head against the locker. "Malia is helping her — which, admittedly, might end with her clawing Lydia's throat out because she's so impatient."
"Yeah, we didn't really think that pairing through," Scott sheepishly admitted.
"That's okay. You don't think most things through," she shot back teasingly.
Scott let out a playful scoff. "Yes, I do."
Squaring her shoulders and standing taller, Willow lowered her voice to try and sound like a boy. "The bite is a gift, Liam. We're brothers now. That's why I kidnapped you and handcuffed Willow to my radiator heater."
"Oh, shut up, Will," Scott said, laughing.
"You handcuffed her to a radiator heater?"
"Shit, uh, she's fine now!"
☽︎
After Willow effectively stopped Derek from breaking Scott's wrist — because, in Derek's words, 'you hurt her wrist so I'll hurt yours' — the school day had to go on. After tracking down Liam and apologizing for the incident in the locker room, Willow made her way to economics class. She sat in her seat, copying down all the notes about supply and demand with a green glitter pen while Coach lectured.
"Economic disparity exists in all forms. Well, take sports, for example. Some teams have better training facilities, some have better equipment — unlike Beacon Hills, that can barely afford the duct tape to keep our equipment together," he complained, waving around a worn-down lacrosse stick.
Coach came to a stop at Stiles' desk, who wasn't paying attention and instead flipping through the images of Carrie's wounds. "You know, Stilinski, if I could grade you on how profoundly you disturb me, you'd be an A-plus student."
"Thanks, Coach," Stiles said, forcing a smile.
"Put those pictures away!" Coach snapped. He moved to walk away, but Stiles quickly snatched the lacrosse stick, an idea coming to him. "Stilinski! The hell is wrong with you?"
Willow watched as Coach tried to yank the stick back, but Stiles wasn't letting go. He pulled off the rubber cap on the end, comparing the geometric shape to the marks on Carrie's body. Finally, Coach pulled hard enough to get the stick back.
"Don't answer that," Coach muttered. With one last glare at Stiles, Coach walked to the front of the room and kept lecturing.
Instead of paying attention, Willow leaned back to listen to Scott and Stiles, who began whispering back and forth.
"It's a lacrosse player," Stiles stated, knowing that the marks matched up.
"The killer's on the team," Scott realized.
And tonight, there was a game with two werewolves and a kitsune on the field.
☽︎
As soon as class was over, Scott, Stiles, Kira, and Willow crowded into Coach's office where all the spare equipment was kept. They pulled the end cap off each lacrosse stick, searching for a hidden dagger.
"This is pointless," Scott said as they continued to pile stick after stick on the desk. "Most of the team plays with their own gear."
"Maybe instead of trying to find a lacrosse stick with a hidden dagger in it, we should be trying to get the game canceled?" Kira suggested.
"The game's the best way to catch him red-handed," Scott argued in a soft tone.
"But what if he's red-handed 'cause his hands are covered in the blood of the person that he just stabbed to death? Which, by the way, could be either of you guys," Stiles pointed out, as if they needed reminding.
"Or Liam," Willow added with a frown.
"She's right," Scott said. "We don't have the whole list, and he could be on it."
"We don't know anything about that list — how it's made, how it's updated. I mean, who's been out taking a supernatural census, anyway?" Stiles asked.
"How do they even know about me?" Kira asked. She hadn't even been in Beacon Hills for that long.
"They know about everyone," Scott muttered. They could only assume that the next list would have Malia, Peter, Liam, and Kira's mother on it. Maybe even Deaton.
"I think Kira's right," Stiles said, sighing heavily. "I think we should stop the game."
"I'm not afraid," Scott said firmly.
"Neither am I," Kira told him. But being afraid had nothing to do with canceling the game.
"Well, I'm terrified, and I'm not even on the list!" Stiles exclaimed.
"I live in a constant state of fear for myself and all of you," Willow admitted under her breath.
"Guys, these are professional killers — it's their profession. One of them's got a thermo-cut wire that cuts heads off!" Stiles snapped. "Who knows what else they have?"
"I'd really rather not think about it," Willow mumbled.
☽︎
Liam had almost gone the whole day without any werewolf flare-ups — the keyword being almost. It was when the charter bus full of Devenford Prep boys arrived near the end of the school day.
Willow spotted Liam stomping out of the school, Mason following right behind him, trying to slow him down. She quickly shoved her books inside her locker and rushed after him as well, hoping that things didn't take a violent and glowing-eyed turn.
"Liam, wait!" Mason shouted as they saw boys filing out of the bus. "No, no, no, no, no. Liam!"
"Brett!" Liam called. The boy he addressed was significantly taller than him, with a handsome face and soft, curly hair. He wore an arrogant expression as he spotted Liam.
"Ahh, here we go," Mason muttered under his breath. He and Willow shared a nervous look.
"I just wanted to say—" Willow held her breath, hoping that Liam wasn't going to blow up. "—have a good game."
Willow couldn't help but smile proudly as Liam extended a hand for Brett to shake. But the taller boy laughed in Liam's face, the others behind him joining in.
"That's cute, Liam. Is that what they told you to say in anger management? Apologize, and everything's fine?" Brett asked, scoffing. "You demolished Coach's car."
"I paid for it," Liam muttered, clearly trying to keep his head.
"Yeah, you're going to pay for it," Brett said threateningly. "We're gonna break you in half out there, and it's gonna be all your fault."
Liam dug his claws into his hands so hard that blood began to drip on the concrete. Scott, Stiles, and Willow all spotted it and went to Liam's aid.
"Oh, shit," Scott had cursed before pulling Liam back. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Let's go!"
Stiles and Willow made sure to shield Liam, hoping no one would see the blood on his fists.
"Hey, what's up, prep students?" Stiles asked, looking up at Brett. "Welcome to our little public high school! How you doing?"
He stuck out his hand for Brett to shake, but the boy only gave him an unimpressed look.
"That's a firm handshake you got there," Stiles replied, making Willow giggle. "Uh, we're very excited for the scrimmage tonight, uh, but let's keep it clean, all right? No rough stuff out there. All right, see you on the field! Go!"
Before Willow could even process it, Stiles was spinning around and running off with Scott and Liam. Willow was left with Mason and the Devenford Prep boys, managing to smile politely at them.
"Well, like Liam and Stiles said, welcome," Willow said, her hands fiddling with the hem of her black and blue plaid sweater vest.
Brett smirked down at her, eyes shamelessly running up and down her form. "If you're the welcoming committee, I've got no complaints. Brett Talbot."
Oh, so he'd stick out his hand for a handshake for her.
"Willow Worthington," she introduced while shaking his hand.
She let out a surprised squeak when he used his grip to pull her a little closer. Though he was much leaner than Derek, he was the same height — perhaps even a bit taller, meaning Willow had to crane her head to look at him.
"Nice to meet you, Willow," he said, his smirk growing. "Say, after we kick your dinky little school's ass, why don't the two of us sneak off to the visitors' locker room for a little one-on-one game of our own?"
"I have a boyfriend," Willow stated, biting her lip.
That didn't deter Brett, who leaned closer. "Bring him."
From behind Willow, Mason choked on his spit at the proposition. And Willow's own cheeks heated up from the insinuation. She wanted to flee with her head down, never having had someone suggest something so bold.
"I don't think he'd approve. He can be a bit territorial," Willow replied as best she could.
"Most wolves are," Brett said, keeping his voice so low that only Willow could hear. She looked up at him in alarm, realizing he knew about werewolves. He leaned in close to whisper in her ear. "I can smell him all over you."
Scratch that — Brett was a werewolf.
And if he was a werewolf, that meant he could probably smell Liam, who obviously didn't know how to mask his scent. So why was he so rude, knowing how difficult it would be for Liam to control his shift?
By the time Willow got away from Brett and the Devenford Prep boys, Scott and Stiles had almost completely stopped Liam from shifting. They did so by turning on a shower and holding him under the cold water as he roared and thrashed in their arms.
"Okay! Okay!" Liam shouted when his fangs and claws finally disappeared. Once Stiles and Scott let him go, he sank to the ground, tugging on his wet hair.
"That car you smashed... I thought you said that was your teacher's?" Scott asked him, referring to what Brett said.
"He was also my coach," Liam admitted shamefully. "He benched me for the entire season."
"What did you do?" Scott asked. He needed to know exactly how severe this was.
"I got a couple of red cards," he mumbled.
"Just a couple?" Stiles asked doubtfully.
Willow crawled over to Liam, not caring that her skirt got wet — she'd change as soon as she got home anyway. She held Liam's hand comfortingly, and he squeezed it while leaning on her shoulder.
"Liam, you've got to be honest with us," Willow told him. "We only want to help you, so what else happened?"
"Nothing," he said, sighing. "I got kicked out of school. They sent me to a psychologist for an evaluation."
"What did they call it?" Scott asked.
"Intermittent explosive disorder."
Stiles looked at the boy with wide eyes. "I.E.D.? You're literally an I.E.D.? That's great. That's great!" he said, scoffing in annoyance at Scott. "You gave powers to a walking time bomb! Willow, you're letting a bomb rest his head on your shoulder!"
Scott and Willow ignored Stiles, only paying attention to Liam. "Did they give you anything for it?" Scott asked.
"Risperdal. It's an antipsychotic," he explained.
"Oh, this just gets better," Stiles muttered under his breath.
"But I don't take it—"
Stiles quickly interjected. "Obviously!"
"I can't play lacrosse on it, it makes me too tired," Liam explained.
"It doesn't matter anymore," Willow told him. "Your body would burn off the medication too quickly. It wouldn't have a lasting effect. So, don't worry about it."
Liam nodded in understanding while Scott sighed, trying to figure out how to keep Liam from hurting anyone. "Okay. I think you should bail out of the game. Tell Coach your leg is still hurting."
"No!" he exclaimed, standing quickly. Willow followed suit. "No. I can do this — especially if you're there."
"But Liam, this isn't just about the game. We think whoever killed Demarco may have been on our team," Scott said.
"Who's Demarco?" he asked, not recalling the name. To be fair, they had dumped a lot of information on him over the weekend.
"The one who brought the beer to the party. The guy who was beheaded, remember?" Stiles reminded him.
"We think the person who ordered the keg killed Demarco," Scott added.
They all watched as some kind of realization washed over Liam. Clearly, he knew something that they didn't.
"Liam?" Stiles questioned. "What, you know something?"
"I don't know who ordered the keg," Liam said, shaking his head. "But I know who paid for it."
☽︎
Scribbles was curled up around Derek's ankles as he sat on the edge of the bed in Willow's bedroom, focused on his phone while she got ready for the scrimmage in the bathroom. He was messaging Chris Argent, who wanted to meet with him during the game, but every now and then would reach down to scratch behind the cat's ear. Chris wanted Derek to take him in the vault and go over everything that Kate had done since she returned. Hopefully, there'd be clues on how to track her down.
If they could track her, they could catch her. If they could catch her, then Derek might be able to find out why his eyes changed color and his sense of smell was that of a human now.
He wasn't particularly comfortable about leaving during the game, even if only for a few minutes. But at least they now knew who at the school was killing people. Willow would just steer clear of Garrett — they all would until they knew how to stop him.
"I'll see you at the game, Willow," Derek heard Noah call from the hallway.
"Bye, Papa S," Willow replied, putting a smile on Noah's face as he rushed out of the house. Finished with getting dressed and ready, Willow grabbed her makeup bag and clothes from school and headed back to her room to put them away. Scribbles instantly left Derek's side and wandered over to the girl, brushing up against her legs affectionately.
Derek's eyes were instantly drawn from his phone as soon as she stepped into the room. In his defense, he never got to appreciate how good Willow looked in her cheerleading uniform, what with Peter on a murdering spree, then them breaking up, and then him unable to go to the last few games in public because Gerard would've cut him in half in front of the entire crowd.
But now he was free to let his eyes wander from the perfect ponytail to the snug red uniform. Willow wore a long-sleeved, white turtle neck under the top to fight against the cold weather, but that wasn't what he was focusing on.
Derek loved skirts. It drove him crazy, seeing Willow wear them each day. And the cheerleading skirt was much shorter than her average ones with panels that parted each time she shifted her hips, showing off even more soft skin that felt like velvet to kiss—
"Der, did you hear me?" Willow asked, her voice interrupting his less-than-innocent thoughts. He blinked a few times before looking her in the eyes. She looked amused, having caught his wandering gaze.
"Hmm?" Derek hummed, giving her an innocent look.
Willow grinned and walked over to him. He instantly pulled her closer to have her stand in between his parted legs, looking up at her.
"I said that I am ready to go to the school whenever you are," she said, giggling. "But I see you're a bit distracted."
Derek's fingers brushed the ends of her skirt. "Your fault for being so damn distracting."
"If literally everyone else can control themselves when we walk around in these uniforms — especially on away game days where we wear them to class — then you can too," she said teasingly.
At the thought of others actually looking at Willow in the same way, thinking the same inappropriate thoughts about her in that skirt, Derek let out a low, jealous growl. Suddenly, he didn't like the uniform as much.
"Are you ready to go?" Willow asked, letting her fingers brush the dark chest hair that was just under his V-neck shirt.
"In a minute," Derek said lowly.
Before Willow could even blink, Derek stood and turned them both, tossing her onto the bed. An excited gasp left her lips as she looked up at Derek, surprised by his mood change.
"D - Derek, we don't exactly have time for anything—"
"You'll get there on time," he assured her. Then Derek knelt on the ground and grabbed Willow's ankles, pulling her to the edge of the bed in one swift move.
As Derek's head snuck under the edge of her skirt, Willow let out a whimper, feeling his lips latch onto the skin of her thigh. He bit her before beginning to suck on it harshly, determined to leave a mark. Willow knew she'd be embarrassed by the fact that people would be able to see it come game time, but in the moment, she couldn't find it in herself to care.
Besides, that was the whole point as Derek continued his assault on her thighs. He wanted everyone to see the red scratches left behind by his scruff, the hickey he was making sure would peek from behind the fabric. Everyone was going to know that the head cheerleader belonged to him.
☽︎
As promised, Derek did get Willow to the game on time. There was a permanent blush on her cheeks, feeling the sensitive gift that Derek left behind each time her thighs brushed. He left to go meet Chris with a smug look on his face, making sure to kiss her cheek sweetly as if he'd done nothing wrong before going.
People were still arriving and both teams were out on the field, waiting for the game to start. Willow parted from the other cheerleaders and joined Kira and Scott on the bench, going over the last-minute details of the plan. Well, there wasn't really a plan, but still.
"Shouldn't we do something now?" Kira asked. Garrett was just on the other end of the bench, acting like he wasn't an assassin.
"I mean, we can't," Scott said, sighing. "We're still not really sure if it's really him. And, if we're wrong, the real assassin gets away." Then he noticed the concerned look on Kira's face. "Nervous?"
"About someone trying to kill us? Or about playing my first game?" she had to ask.
"Both?"
A group of large Devenford Prep boys walked past, each twice the size of Kira. "Definitely both," she muttered.
"You'll do fine," Willow told her.
Then they heard Stiles, who was on the phone with his father as he came over to them. Noah had yet to arrive.
"Hey, Dad, you're supposed to be here. Where the hell are you?" A moment later, Noah hung up, and Stiles sighed, sitting on the bench with them. "This is gonna be a nightmare. These giants are gonna kick out asses."
"Don't say that," Willow told him, shaking her head. "You three and Liam are going to win this thing. It may just be a scrimmage, but the bragging rights alone will be worth it."
"You really think we can win when one of our teammates is trying to kill us?" Kira asked doubtfully.
"I think it's surprising all that this pack can accomplish," she said, getting off the bench. "I'm gonna go make sure Liam isn't too nervous. But I'll be there cheering for you all on the sidelines."
"Thanks, Will. Even though it's literally your job to cheer for us," Stiles told her.
Willow rolled her eyes playfully before kissing Scott, Kira, and Stiles on the cheek. She also passed Danny and kissed his cheek before he even realized she was there, much to his amusement. She then made her way over to Liam, who was standing and talking with Mason.
The boys were discussing Brett, who was near the benches meant for the visiting team. He had forgone changing in the locker room and instead opted to change into his pads in front of everyone.
"I don't care if he's a foot taller than me," Liam muttered. "I think I can take him."
"Yeah," Mason said, his voice sounding far off.
Both Liam and Willow looked at him and realized he was hardly paying attention. His eyes were fixed on Brett's toned torso, which was soon covered with a tight green athletic shirt. Not even Willow could blame him, silently admitting that Brett was quite a sight.
"What do you think you're doing?" Liam asked his best friend accusingly.
"What? Me?" Mason asked, somewhat snapping out of his fog. "Agreeing with you! I'm being agreeable."
Liam narrowed his eyes as Mason kept glancing at Brett, who was putting his pads on. "You think he's hot, don't you?"
"No! No. Not at all! No way!" he instantly denied. But then his eyes stayed glued to Brett, who was sadly fully dressed now. "Maybe... Yeah, maybe a little..."
"He wants to destroy me," Liam reminded him.
"I think you could definitely take him—" Mason said, "—and then give him to me."
Liam's annoyance faded and he laughed at his friend's shameless behavior. Willow giggled as well, deciding that she quite liked Mason.
"No, just go out there and kick their smug prep-school asses," Mason told Liam, finally finished with thinking about Brett.
"All right," Liam said, nodding. "I've got this."
"You totally do," Willow reassured him. "Don't worry about Brett or anyone else." She couldn't exactly say Garrett's name with Mason right there. "Just go out there and be quite literally the most amazing lacrosse player I've ever seen."
"Thanks, Willow," he told her, smiling.
Since Liam, unlike the other werewolves and coyotes in her life, was a little shorter, Willow didn't have to stand on her toes or even jump to kiss his cheek, and she appreciated the ease of access. Then she also whirled around and gave Mason a cheek kiss too.
"But I'm not playing," Mason said, smiling. He wasn't really going to complain though — everyone at Beacon Hills wanted a cheek kiss from Willow Worthington, which was a sign of friendship.
"You and Liam are my new favorites — don't tell Malia. She'll get jealous," Willow claimed. "I've got to go get ready, but I'll see you both after the game."
It wasn't long before the referees were calling for both teams to take the field. From her spot with the cheerleaders, Willow could hear Scott trying one last time to get Coach to bench Liam for the game.
"McCall! I said, get your ass out on the field!" Coach shouted, blowing his whistle.
"But Coach, his leg's still healing," Scott said, nodding to Liam. "I don't think he should play."
"He says he's fine!"
"As Captain, I'm suggesting Liam sit out the game."
Coach only laughed hysterically in his face. "And, as President of the United States, I'm vetoing that suggestion."
"What if he gets hurt?" Scott asked him, quite worried for Liam's safety.
"Hey, Liam!" Brett suddenly called. "Think fast!"
He lobbed a lacrosse ball directly at Liam, who caught it with his bare hand with his new supernatural reflexes. Coach looked at him with wide, impressed eyes. "Oh, he plays."
Willow's eyes fell on Brett. "You totally did that on purpose," she mumbled under her breath.
Given that he was a werewolf, Brett easily heard the statement clearly meant for him. Brett smirked at her from across the field before slipping on his helmet and getting in position. Willow sighed tiredly, hoping that Brett's vendetta didn't end with Liam killing someone on the field.
It probably would've been best to let Scott and the others know about Brett being a wolf, but she had honestly forgotten about it until that moment. She had been too preoccupied with learning that Garrett was an assassin.
As the game began, it was made very clear that Devenford Prep had it out for Liam specifically. In the process of scoring the first goal, Liam got tackled twice. The game hadn't even been going on for five minutes before a fight nearly broke out.
Thankfully, Scott and Stiles managed to hold Liam off, keeping him from tearing into Brett in front of everyone.
The only player that wasn't worried about controlling his anger or possibly being stabbed by Garrett was Stiles, who just focused on playing lacrosse. He wasn't too terrible but mainly used his ability to talk and distract to get the ball from the other team.
At one point, Stiles had the ball and was running toward the goal. But then he spotted Kira, who was unguarded, and threw it to her.
"Run, Kira!" Willow shouted, jumping up and down excitedly for her friend.
"Pass it, Kira! Pass the ball!" Coach yelled as Kira zipped across the field.
But she didn't. Instead, Kira maneuvered away from everyone in her way and ran straight to the goal before making the shot, scoring the first point for Beacon Hills. Everyone in the stands got up to cheer for her. Willow and the other cheerleaders started a chant that spelled out the girl's name, excited that the first girl player they'd ever had scored a point.
The only one who wasn't pleased was Coach, who blew his whistle and called her over. "Yukimura! Get over here! Take a seat. You're benched for the rest of the game."
"What? Why?" Kira asked in disbelief.
"You didn't pass!" he snapped, clearly upset.
"I had an open shot," she stated.
"The play was for you to pass! This is a scrimmage, it's about teamwork, Yukimura," he explained, sighing. "So, you're benched."
Kira sighed heavily and dragged herself to the bench. Not only was she upset about not being able to play, but that was one less person on the field to watch Garrett.
There was a short timeout, and the cheerleaders took the time to do some of their more elaborate cheers. Even when lifted in the air on one leg and then tossed incredibly high, Willow still tried to keep an eye on everyone and Garrett. For all they knew, he could make his move while they were all huddled up and going over plays.
They didn't have to wait much longer for Garrett to attack. A few minutes into the next quarter, there was a painful-looking collision between Garrett, Liam, and Brett. Willow let out a gasp but had to stay on the sidelines as the players, coaches, and referees surrounded them. Garrett was the only one to get up right away, completely unscathed.
Liam was the next to get up. Scott and Stiles pulled him to the side, checking him for injuries. But other than a broken wrist which quickly healed, Liam was uninjured. Garrett never touched him with his knife dipped in wolfsbane.
But it was Brett who stayed down, repeatedly screaming in pain. He was horribly injured, so much so that paramedics had to carry him off the field and into the locker room.
Dread washed over Willow as she watched them take him away. What were the odds that Brett was the target instead of Scott or Kira or Liam?
Without even taking the time to get Scott, Willow rushed to the locker room so that she could check on Brett. If Garrett used a lethal amount of wolfsbane, then they'd need to get him to Deaton quickly so that he could burn it out. Willow's healing kiss would only heal the wound from the knife, simply sealing the toxic poison inside.
Willow's intuition was right. In the locker room, Brett was weakly crawling across the floor, trying to get away from the young girl that attacked him, as well as the paramedics.
"What did you do to me?" Brett groaned out, looking up at Violet, the girlfriend of Garrett.
"You were cut with a poisoned blade. It was laced with wolfsbane," she explained. "It won't kill you, but this will."
She held up the thermo-cut wire which she had been disguising as a simple necklace. The wire burned red hot, ready to be wrapped around Brett's neck.
"Why?" he asked weakly, trying to crawl away. "Why are you doing this?"
"Because you're worth a lot of money, Brett."
Then Violet turned Brett over, pressing down on his back forcefully so that he couldn't get away. She wrapped the wire around his throat tightly, cutting off his air supply as it burned into his skin. But then Violet heard something that made her stop.
She heard twenty-five million dollars coming her way.
☽︎
Back at the lacrosse field, during the time out while Devenford Prep sorted out who would go in for Brett, Liam walked over to Scott and Kira.
"I talked to Coach. I'm out for the rest of the game," Liam stated. He just didn't want another close call with Garrett. "What are you gonna do?"
"I don't know," Scott said, letting out a frustrated sigh. "Something's still not right. We're missing something."
"Guys!" Stiles exclaimed, rushing over with his phone in his hand. "Lydia just broke another third of the list."
"Am I on it?" Liam asked nervously.
"No," he said. "But someone else is."
But before Stiles could say the name, Derek came over, finished with speaking to Chris in the vault. His eyes scanned the crowd as he grabbed the back of the bench Scott was sitting on.
"Where's Willow?" Derek asked, unable to spot her.
"She's over with the other cheer—" Scott trailed off when he saw that she wasn't with the rest of the squad. A sophomore named Emma was leading the cheers, with the head cheerleader nowhere to be seen. "Where'd she go?"
Derek growled lowly at the alpha, angry that Willow managed to get out of his sight after Scott promised they'd all watch out for each other. "How did you let—"
A chilling scream cut Derek off, one only heard by those with supernatural ears. Even with Derek's senses fading, he could tell who it came from.
It came from Willow.
☽︎
"Brett?" Willow had called, her voice echoing through the empty hallway as she walked to the locker room. She was surprised when she didn't hear him or any of the paramedics respond. "Brett, I think that Garrett kid might — oh, God."
She spotted the bodies of the two paramedics as soon as she stepped into the locker room. Hopefully, they were just unconscious and not dead. But if they were like that, that meant Brett was likely injured as well.
It also meant someone else did this because Garrett was still on the field.
Willow was cautious as she moved further into the locker room, listening for anyone and looking around all the corners. When she reached the sink area, she spotted Brett's body sprawled on the ground, face down.
"Brett," Willow whispered, rushing to his side to check on him. She turned his head and saw his eyes were still open, but he was clearly out of it. "Brett, what happened?"
Brett struggled to breathe correctly and get his words out. "R - Run."
"What — ahh!"
Someone came up behind Willow and wrapped a metal wire around her throat. She managed the catch her fingers in between it, keeping it from fully cutting off her air supply. But when the wire began to heat up and burn her skin, she let out an ear-piercing scream, unable to stand the pain.
"Ah - S — Stop!" It had been so long since Willow used her abilities that it took a moment to work. The garrote around her neck loosened enough for her to turn and set her glowing pink eyes on the young girl that was always with Garrett.
The sides of Willow's neck and her fingers were bleeding and burned, but she paid them no mind. Violet was staring at her with wide, confused eyes. Clearly, the girl didn't know why Willow was on the list.
"How did you — What are you?" Violet asked, backing away.
"You're killing us for money but don't even know what we are?" Willow asked. She cringed, the pain in her throat pulsing as she spoke.
"We thought you were a werewolf. Like them. They made it so obvious," Violet told her.
So the list never specified what each person was. It was up to the assassins to do the investigating and figure out the best way to kill their target. And clearly, Violet and Garret hadn't done enough for Willow. Because if Violet had only gotten some valerian root in her system, Willow would already be dead.
"Tell me who the Benefactor is," Willow ordered, eyes glowing once more.
"We don't know," she replied in a monotonous tone. "We'd never heard of him before getting the lists."
Willow looked away with a frown. They didn't know who the Benefactor was? Some random person made this Deadpool and handpicked assassins without ever actually meeting them.
"I may not know what you are," Violet said, narrowing her eyes as the Charmspeak lifted once more. "But I know what you're worth."
Before Willow could even face her again, Violet used a lacrosse stick to hit Willow in the head, knocking her to the ground. She crawled on top of her, forcefully pushing on her jaw so that she couldn't open her mouth to speak. It almost broke under the pressure.
Willow struggled under her and tried to get Violet off, but she had no luck. The thermo-cut wire was once again wrapped around her throat, but before Violet could activate the heat, she was harshly thrown off of Willow.
Following the sound of Willow's scream, the others finally found them. Derek had Violet pinned to the wall by her throat as Scott checked on Willow and Brett, the latter of whom was now unconscious. Violet couldn't even yell before Derek hit her head against the brick wall once, knocking her out and letting her body drop.
Then Derek was by Willow's side. He gently turned her head to inspect the burns on her neck, though he stopped when she winced. He carefully held her wrists, looking at the marks on her fingers as well.
"I shouldn't have left you alone," Derek whispered, guilt washing over him as he saw the terrified tears that covered her cheeks.
"It'll heal in a few days," she said, managing a small smile. She didn't want him to feel bad. After all, she was the one to blindly run off.
Derek looked at her wounds with a concentrated expression. It took a long time — longer than it should've for a werewolf — but eventually, faint black lines traveled from her to him, crawling up his wrists as he took some of her pain.
Willow sighed at the relief. She hadn't wanted to voice how much pain she was really in — though her tears told them enough. Then she leaned against Derek's chest, who held her tightly as they remained on the ground.
A second later, Stiles rushed into the locker room, having been slower than the werewolves. He looked at all the unconscious people with wide eyes.
"I think you better call your dad," Scott told him.
Willow's eyes fell on the unconscious werewolf in a green jersey. "And we have to get him to Deaton."