Chapter Sixteen: Shape Shifter
Chapter Song: Kill of the Night by Gin Wigmore
"Hey, I liked that song." I pouted as Lydia clicked off the radio.
"Good, you can listen to it later. We're here, genius." Lydia chuckled as she snatched her purse from the back seat of the car. My brows furrowed as I looked around, noticing we had finally arrived at school. Shaking myself out of my daydream, I quickly squeezed myself out of the cramped, red Beetle.
"Sometime before the end of the day, Hayley." Lydia announced, staring off into the schools courtyard where Allison stood waving. Lydia quickly trotted off in her high heels, eager to see her friend.
"Lydia." I groaned, grabbing my backpack from the passenger seat and rushing off after her. I knew for a fact Allison hadn't talked to Lydia in person since before she disappeared. The police had been so far down Lydia's throat, she barely had time to talk to me. Our only real conversation had taken place on the way to school, with Lydia being quite cryptic about the details of her disappearance.
"Are you sure it's not too early for you to be back?" Allison asked, continuing their conversation as I caught up to the two girls.
"Psh, no." Lydia casually remarked. "It's like it never even happened. Don't remember a thing." She casually shrugged.
"Wait, really?" Allison asked, eyeing me with concern. It had been the same expression plastered upon my face when Lydia had told me the same thing in the car. The red head had no recollection of the past two days, her only memory beginning when she showed up to the crime scene where she was found. She hadn't remembered escaping the hospital, being in the woods, or even the hours leading up to her disappearance. While the fact she hadn't remembered a thing was confusing, it was more concerning than anything.
"They called it a fugue state, basically in a way of saying 'we have no idea why you were running through the woods naked for two days'. But, personally, I don't care." Lydia shrugged once more. I bit the inside of my cheek, knowing that Lydia wanted to put this all past her. "I lost nine pounds." Lydia flaunted, showing off her skinnier than usual body. Allison laughed at her friends optimism.
"That's one way to look at it." I suggested.
"Are you ready for this?" She asked, placing a hand on Lydia's forearm. Lydia, as calm as ever, flashed a smile.
"Please, it's not like my aunts a serial killer." Lydia retorted, walking into the school. Allison's jaw dropped in astonishment. I looked over to the brunette, who stared at me in shock, questioning if Lydia had really just mentioned that.
"Let it go." I patted Allison on the back, trying to relief Lydia's snide comment. "Let it go." Allison let out a breath and the two of us continued in. We stopped short beside Lydia, who we found had stopped straight in her tracks. The hallway of the school became dead silent as hundreds of eyes landed on the red head. Eyes darted between her and others, everyone waiting for someone to react first. Lydia stared out at the crowd, her doe eyes large with fear.
"Maye it's the nine pounds." Allison whispered into Lydia's ear. Lydia quickly pursed her lips and adjusted her stature. Her lips curled up into a confident smirk as she flipped her hair and strutted off down the hallway without a care.
☾☾☾
"Hey, hey, hey!" Stiles voice rang in my ears as I sashayed down the lacrosse field. While I dug through my backpack in search of my headphones, before I realized it I found my hyperactive best friend tackling me to the ground.
"Oof." We tumbled down in unison.
"Dude!" I exclaimed, throwing my hands up in exasperation. Stiles stumbled up, wiping a hand down his face.
"Sorry." He jutted a hand out to help me up.
"You're cut off! No more adderall today!" I stated, lifting myself off the turf.
"We need your help. Please tell me you're staying for practice." Stiles pleaded as I reached down and grabbed my backpack from beside my feet.
"Yeah I am...why is Scott goalie?" I noticed, my eyes focusing in on my brother standing in the goal while I was brushing dirt off of my jeans. "He hates goalie."
"Yes, yes, Scott hates goalie! We've established that! There's another one!" Stiles exclaimed.
"Another goalie? Okay, so why is Scott in—"
"No! Not another goalie! Another werewolf—there's another werewolf."
"What?" I gasped. "Are you sure?"
"Positive. Scott smelled him in the locker room. We're trying to find out who it is."
"How?"
"I have a plan, just trust me! Keep an eye out for anything wolfy."
"How-"
"Stilinski! This isn't social practice it's lacrosse practice! Let's go!" Finstock bellowed from across the field.
"Just do it!" Stiles stammered as he ran off towards the awaiting players, leaving me to find a seat on the bleachers. I settled into my seat as Coach blew the whistle to commence practice. My eyes glanced over each of the players, wondering which one of them was hiding something. Another werewolf? Was it possible that there was more out there than just Scott and Derek now?
"What the hell, man?" Matt Daheler yelled as Scott tackled him, deeply inhaling their scent as he took them to the ground. Scott awkwardly giggled, shooting a wary smile at the teen. At first I thought Scott's tackle of Matt had been accidental, but as he continued to do it with each player, I realized this was his genius plan. Scott was sniffing out the other wolf.
Loud bangs echoed across the field as Scott's body continuously slammed into a different player every other minute. And each time he did so, Finstock would reprimand him. The situation grew incredibly awkward when Scott straddled Danny, deeply taking in his scent. Danny widely smirked to my brother as the field grew silent.
"It's Armani. My cologne, right?"
"Jesus Christ, you idiot." I groaned, running a hand over my face as I listened to Danny's conversation with Scott.
"Coach," Jackson warily called. I took my head out of my hands to find the jocks eyes narrowed on Scott. "My shoulders hurting. I'm gonna sit this one out." He called, wandering over back to the bleachers.
"Take a picture, McCall. It lasts longer." Jackson spat, noticing my suspicious gaze on him.
"Shoulder hurting that bad, Jackson?" I cocked my head. How and when did he turn into a wolf?
"Or maybe I just don't want to get mauled by your lunatic of a brother." He barked, eyeing the next player about to face Scott.
Isaac Lahey stood on the field preparing himself with haggard breath. His knuckles turned a ghostly white as they wrapped tightly around the base of his lacrosse stick. Finstock tossed a ball at the curly haired teen, and he immediately shared forward. Scott did the same and the two quickly found their bodies colliding. I cringed as the loud echo of their bodies crashing together boomed. The two boys fell to the turf on hands and knees, their chests heaving for air. My browns formed a tight line as I began wondering how poor, delicate Isaac Lahey wasn't writhing in pain like the lacrosse players Scott had assaulted prior. Isaac was much smaller with much less muscle, he should have been broken on the ground.
Finstock's shrill whistle echoed across the field, ripping me out of my thoughts. A grim feeling blanketed over me when I looked over to him, only to find Sheriff Stilinski and two other deputies entering the field. They had determined looks across their features as they walked with purpose. Hushed whispers spread through the field as Stiles' father pulled Finstock aside. Soon after, the two deputies went onto the field and pulled Isaac out of practice. My eyes widened and I quickly scrambled off the bleachers and rushed over to Scott and Stiles.
'What's going on?"I asked, my eyes darting from my brother to the young curly haired teen across the field.
"It's him. He's the other one." A pang rang in my chest as Scott alerted to us Isaac was indeed the other wolf. How did a wallflower like Isaac Lahey get pulled into the supernatural world? My best bet, of course, was Derek. I just couldn't help but wonder why Derek would bite him. Scott's attention was focused in on the conversation taking place between the officers and his lacrosse mate.
"What are they saying?" I wondered.
"His fathers dead. They think he was murdered." Scott admitted.
"Murdered?" I repeated.
"Are they saying he's a suspect?" Stiles eagerly piped up. There was a pause as Scott listened in once again.
"I'm not sure, why?"
"Because they can lock him in a holding cell for twenty four hours." Stiles informed.
"Like over night?" Scott exclaimed.
"Like tonight as in the full moon?" I fearfully realize.
"How good are these holding cells at holding people?" Scott swallowed.
"People? Good. Werewolves...probably not that good."
"Remember when I said I don't have the urge to maim and kill?" Scott reminded.
"Yeah." Stiles nodded, looking at me for help of where the conversation was heading. I reluctantly nodded.
"Well, he does."
"This is turning from problematic to full on global crisis very quickly." I gulped, watching a timid and fearful Isaac being escorted away with deputies at his side.
☾☾☾
"I can't figure out why Derek chose Isaac." Scott sighed beside me. Stiles agreed in a huff. I sat between the two boys, watching Mr. Harris write down notes on the board as class commenced.
"Yeah, tell me about it." I muttered, sneaking my phone under the desk and shooting my umpteenth text to Derek to call me. "They can't hold him unless they have solid evidence, right?" I asked.
"Or a witness..." Stiles realized, whipping around in his seat and looking over to Danny. "Danny, where's Jackson?"
"Principals office talking to your dad."
"What? Why?" Stiles exclaimed. I quickly swatted my hand at Stiles, silently motioning for him to be quiet before Harris heard.
"He lives across the street from Isaac." Danny informed, going back to taking notes in his book. Stiles turned back around and began whispering to Scott.
"Danny, did Jackson ever say anything about Isaac?" I wondered. Danny rose a brow.
"All Jackson talks about is himself." Danny smugly smiled.
"Touché, my friend."
"Turn to page 73 please." Harris announced.
"You've never seen anything weird any time you've gone over his house?" Danny pursed his lips and shook his head.
"Sorry, Hale. Are you even friends with Isaac?" Before I could answer Danny's inquiry, the chemistry class erupted in a quiet fit of laughter.
"Who the hell did that?" Harris bellowed. I turned around in my seat to find Scott and Stiles both pointing at me.
"Huh?" My eyes grew large, alert and confused for what Harris was blaming me for.
"Principals office." Harris pointed at me. My jaw dropped and I crossed my arms over my chest. "All three of you." Harris ordered. I looked to Scott, my eyes narrow and judging.
"Sorry, part of the plan." He whispered as I sneered at him. Plan? What plan?
☾☾☾
"I hate you both so much." I muttered as I sunk lower into my seat, crossing my arms tightly over my chest. I had managed to go a fair amount of time without getting in some sort of trouble at school, and now that had been tainted.
"Shhh!" Stiles ordered, swatting a hand at me. The two of them were listening in on Jackson's conversation with Stiles' father and it seemed like it was going in every direction but Isaac's favor. Jackson informed the Sheriff Isaac's dad had been beating the crap out of him. With Jackson's new revelation, the story turned from Isaac being an innocent and quiet teenager to a cold blooded murderer. Whether it was self-defense or intentional, it looked as if Isaac had finally gotten back at his dad and they'd keep him in a cell overnight.
The door to the principals office swung open, Jackson and Sheriff Stilinski emerging. Stiles scrambled in his seat, quickly shielding his face with a magazine in hopes his father wouldn't see him. The Sheriff lifted a brow, staring at his son just as Scott and I did. The father opened his mouth in preparation to question Stiles, but decided otherwise and closed it.
"Scott. Hayley." Sherriff greeted with a nod of his head before he took off down the hallway.
"Boys." An unfamiliar voice called from beside us. I looked up to find an unrecognizable man who wasn't Principal Thomas looking at the three of us with a smirk across his lips. The man was older—in his seventies—and dressed in a suit. "And miss. Come on in." I looked over to the two boys at my side in utter confusion, only to find them looking at me in utter fear.
☾☾☾
My hands were clammy and clawed nervously at the sides of my jeans. I bit the inside of my lip feverishly, wondering why the man in front of me made me—and more importantly Scott and Stiles—so nervous. The elder man that sat before me irked me in a way I couldn't explain. Whoever he was, he wasn't good news. He sent an uncomfortable feeling through my stomach every time he looked my day. Every time I looked over at Scott to try to get an inkling of who the man was and why Scott was so nervous, my brother shook his head and avoided my gaze.
My eyes darted around the walls of the office. Principal Thomas' diplomas had been removed from the frames. The picture of his daughter he had kept on his desk had disappeared as well. Upon then almost-bare cedar desk sat three of our files.
"Scott McCall." The man announced, flipping through my brothers file. "Academically not the most accomplished but I see you've become quite the star athlete. Also the brother of...Hayley McCall." The principal's voice rose, closing Scott's file and opening mine.
"Above average student, somewhat good attendance" he flipped the page, "Oh wow, what a file." He commented, seeing a stack of notes from over the years from Ms. Morrell. I cleared my throat, my eyes falling to the floor. He decided to switch files. "Stiles Stilinski...perfect grades, but little to no extracurricular activities. Maybe you should try lacrosse." The man suggested.
"Well, actually, I'm—"
"Wait hold on." The man interrupted. "McCall. You're the Scott who was dating my granddaughter." Wait, granddaughter? This was Allison's grandfather?
"We were dating, but not any more! Not dating! Not seeing each other or doing anything...with each other." Scott stuttered as he defended.
"Relax Scott, you look like you're about to crack a cyanide brick with your teeth." The grandfather chuckled at the uneasiness of my brother.
"Wait, you're Allison's grandfather?" I wondered.
"Why yes." He sat back in his seat. "Gerard Argent." He nodded his head. "I wasn't aware you were the Hayley my granddaughter is quite good friends with."
"We're close." I shifted in my seat uncomfortably, realizing why Scott was so scared. He was a hunter.
"Pleasure to meet Allisons friends." Gerard commented.
"Thanks." We all mumbled.
"Now listen guys, yes I am the principal! But, I really don't want you to think of me as the enemy."
"Is that so?" Stiles laughed at the irony in Gerard's choice of words. I lifted my foot and kicked him.
"However, with this being my first day I do need to support my teachers, so unfortunately someone is going to have to take the fall and stay behind for detention." Gerard sighed. Scott and I both looked to each other before staring over at Stiles.
"Aw, really?" He muttered and heavily sighed. Gerard quietly chuckled. The hard phone on his desk began ringing.
"Yes?" Gerard answered. The other line was quiet, but just loud enough that I could make out what the woman was saying.
"Sir? Security just wanted me to inform you that the police are escorting Mr. Isaac Lahey down to the station now."
"Very well, thank you." He hung up. Gerard wrapped his hands together and leaned back in his chair once more. "You two can go back to class. Mr. Stilinski, go to the front office to get a detention slip. Have a nice day." He bowed his head and let us exit the office. Scott and I casually left the office and waited until the door closed until we looked at each other—both hearing the conversation on the phone— and took off running. We sprinted through the empty hallways to the front of the school and busted out the front doors just in time to see a police car was pulling off with Isaac unwillingly sitting in the back. The curly hair teen looked to us in distress, his doe eyes pleading for help.
"What do we do?" I asked. We both turned around, thoughts of heading back into the school crossed our minds until a car whizzed up beside the sidewalk. The windows of Derek's sleek, black Camaro were rolled down as he stopped the car beside the sidewalk.
"Get in." Derek demanded, a pair of black aviators perched on the bridge of his nose.
"You did that!" My brother pointed towards where the police car once parked, "this is your fault!"
"I know that." Derek meekly admitted.
"I sure as hell hope you know that!" I yelled, approaching the sports car with fury pulsating through my veins. "You had to involve Isaac in this mess too?" Scott held me back but I quickly shook him off, swallowing my anger so I didn't kick a dent into Derek's car.
"Both of you get in the car and help me."
"No, I've got a better idea. How about we call a lawyer? Because a lawyer would actually have a chance of getting him out before the moon goes up!" Scott thought.
"Not when they do a real search of the house." Derek added. My face turned grim, as did Scotts. We looked at each other and then back to Derek. I quickly composed myself and calmed my breathing.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Whatever Jackson said to the cops...what's in the house is worse."
"His dad was beating him up, how much worse could you get?" I spat.
"A lot worse." Derek stated. Scott and I exchanged concerned glances. How much worse could it get from a father beating his own son? Derek, already knowing what our answer would be, reached over and swung open the passenger door. Scott slid into the back of the car and I took residence in the passenger seat, biting on the inside of my cheek while Derek peeled out of the parking lot.
"We're never going to be able to get into his place." I eventually brought up.
"How do you know?" Scott wondered. My eyes shot to the rearview mirror and I glared at my brother. He knew how I knew.
"It was a murder. They're going to be searching the house at least till shift end tonight."
"Then we wait till it gets dark and they leave and we sneak in." Scott suggested.
"None of this would have happened if you didn't give him the bite." I muttered under my breath.
"He accepted it." Derek simply replied. I puckered my lips in anger and slapped Derek's bicep.
"He's a sixteen year old boy, he doesn't know the meaning of no!" I barked. "We wouldn't be in this mess if you didn't bite him."
"He didn't kill his father." Derek defended.
"And how do you know that for sure? Do you believe your innocent beta?" I sarcastically pouted.
"Because his heart beat was steady. He wasn't lying." Derek fought back. I rolled my eyes.
"Okay, so let's say Isaac's telling the truth. Who killed his dad then?" I wondered. Unfortunately, I didn't even think Derek could answer that.
☾☾☾
"What are they saying?" I asked Scott as the three of us watched several policemen flock into their cars and away from the Lahey household. We'd been impatiently waiting for going on three hours, hoping the crime scene would wrap up.
"They're wondering whether to go to The Brew or Beacon Ale for drinks." Scott raised a brow and continued to listen. "They're wrapping up for the night. They're back tomorrow morning." Scott informed while we watched the fleet of cop cars disappear down the street.
"Let's get this over with." I muttered, swinging the car door open and stepping out into the cold air. The three of us walked to the Lahey house in silence. The questions of what was in the home ate away at Scott and I. Even though Derek already knew what was awaiting us, it didn't make me feel any more at ease. We slipped under the police tape and reluctantly entered the home. The front door squeaked open, causing a shiver to run down my back. Derek immediately began leading us towards the back of the house.
My eyes darted around adjusting to the darkness as we passed the kitchen. The home looked like it was frozen in time. There was broken glass sparkling on the floor. A plate of food and a glass of water sat on one side of the table untouched. The table's chairs were pulled out and toppled over.
"How do you know Isaac didn't kill his dad?" Scott asked.
"I told you, it's because I trust my senses. And it's a combination of them, not just your sense of smell." Derek slyly shot. I held back my laugher, realizing Derek was at the lacrosse practice today. There was a pregnant pause while Scott stopped in his tracks.
"You saw the lacrosse thing today." Scott apprehended. He pursed his lips.
"Yeah." Derek nodded his head.
"Did it look that bad?" Scott wondered. Derek placed a hand on Scott's shoulder.
"Yeah." He nodded. Scott looked to me, awaiting a defense.
"It was Armani, right?" I sarcastically asked, my brother's cheeks turning crimson. He avoided our gaze. We finally reached the basement, my gaze glued on the brass doorknob.
"Want to learn how to follow your senses? Start now." Derek ordered, opening the door for us. Scott and I looked to each other in fear of what was down there. I nodded my head forward, urging Scott to go first. My brother swallowed a lump in his throat and bravely stepped forward into the darkness. Scott turned his head, making sure I'd follow in pursuit. Reluctantly, I stepped in and began walking down stairs. Derek's quiet footsteps trailed behind me.
"What's down here?" I quietly asked.
"Motive." Derek simply answered. I rolled my eyes, sighing.
"Descriptive." I shook my head. We finally reached the base of the stairs. My eyes began wandering around before my feet started moving for me.
"What am I looking for?" Scott wondered.
"Follow your senses." Derek's vagueness was getting on my nerves. There were dusty boxes scattered around—some labeled Christmas decorations, some labeled with Isaac's name, and—what confused me the most—one with another name on it. Camden. If Isaac had a brother, where was he during all this mess? There was an old, wooden table on the other side of the room. Tools were scattered across its top. There were broken mirrors, paint cans, an ice chest, and large plastic containers stacked up mostly everywhere else.
"What happened down here?" Scott asked, also looking around the space. I wandered over to one of the few boxes that wasn't taped down. I grabbed my phone out of my back pocket and flipped the flashlight on, opening the flaps to the box and shining the beam on it.
"The kind of thing that leaves an impression." Derek answered. I quietly gasped, stumbling back when I saw a pair of two beady, black eyes staring at me from inside the box. A deer head rested on a plaque within the cardboard box.
"That's definitely going to leave an impression." I shook my head, closing up the box once more and slipping my phone back into my pocket. I turned around, watching Scott's gaze go from the wall to the freezer chest. I cocked my head, following my brother over to the chest. There were markings all along the top of the chest and an open lock bolted over the opening. Beside us, a flashlight flickered on and blinded our eyes. I squinted, looking past the light and at Derek.
"Open it." He urged Scott. Scott took the lock off the chest and the two of us slowly opened the top. Derek shined the flashlight in, allowing us to take in what exactly what was in the freezer. Derek's gaze flickered from Scott back to me. My lips parted as a shaky breath escaped my lungs as I took in the scene before me. Bloody scratch marks were engraved into the walls of the freezer. The freezers' ceiling had bloody marks dug even deeper into the metal. I noticed the four small holes drilled into the top among the abrasions. They were air holes. All the breath left my lungs as I stared at the freezer in sheer horror. I knew evil existed in the world; I was far from being naïve to it. But, for someone's father to be the bearer of all evils to them—that was something I couldn't wrap my head around. I could only imagine Isaac trying to claw his way out of this torture chamber —his nail beds bloody and damaged. My stomach churned. I hadn't known Isaac well, but this explained a lot. He'd come in with bruises and scratches, always wearing long sleeves...
"Oh my God." I whispered.
"This is why he said yes to you!" Scott realized.
"Everyone wants power." Derek replied. Scott looked to me and I just shook my head in reply, unable to form words.
"If we help you, you have to stop. You can't just go around turning people into werewolves."
"I can if they're willing." Derek gloated. If I hadn't been so stunned, I'd shot him down for being so cocky.
"Did you tell Isaac about the Argents? About being hunted?" Scott wondered.
"Yes, and he still asked." Derek nodded.
"Then he's an idiot!" Scott exclaimed.
"And you're the idiot dating Argent's daughter." Derek spat back. Scott became quiet, looking to Derek in shock he knew the secret.
"Yeah, I know about your little secret. And if I know, how long do you think it'll take them to find out?" Derek asked rhetorically. "I'm sure your sister knows. Why don't you see how long it took Hayley to find out?" Scott looked over to me, disappointment crossing his soft features when he realized I wasn't shocked at Derek's revelation.
"You know?" He asked.
"It was pretty obvious." I meekly admitted. "Allison didn't have to say anything." Scott looked back at Derek.
"You saw what happened to an Omega. With me, you learn how to use all your senses. With me, you learn control." Derek grabbed Scott's hand from the freezer and lifted it up. "Even on a full moon." Scott's claws came protruding out of his fingers. Scott looked to them in fear, as did I, before he snatched his hand away from Derek.
"If I'm with you, I lose her!" Scott defended. Derek's hard eyes relaxed, showing a bit of sympathy for a moment.
"You're going to lose her anyway." Derek closed the freezer top. "You know that." The alpha began to walk away before Scott stopped him.
"I'm not part of your pack," Scott made clear, "but I want him out. He's my responsibility too."
"Why? Because he's one of us?" Derek questioned.
"Because he's innocent." Scott growled back, his eyes glowing gold. I clenched my jaw, praying Scott wouldn't turn right on the spot. Derek looked to my brother, silently giving him a signal to calm down. I looked from Scott to Derek before marching off towards the stairs.
"Where are you going?" Scott asked. I looked back to him, seeing pain of the full moon across his features. The moon was starting to affect him.
"I have a plan. But it requires you to stay here." I announced.
☾☾☾
"Are you sure Allison saw hunters?" I questioned optimistically from the back seat of Stiles' Jeep. We were parked outside the police station, impatiently waiting for the perfect time to go in. Stiles drummed his hands nervously against the steering while while Derek, claiming the passenger seat, watched every move of the officer inside.
"She said they were dressed in cop uniforms leaving her house. Sounds like they've got some type of motive at the station." Stiles replied.
"And she's stalling?" I asked. Stiles nodded.
"I don't want to know where she's going to shove that bow and arrow. Guy doesn't stand a chance." Stiles mused, making eye contact with me through the rearview mirror.
"Let's hope not." I muttered. My eyes landed on the woman managing the front desk walking into the break room and pouring herself a mug of coffee.
"Okay, they keys to every cell are in a password protected lock box in my dad's office. The problem is getting past the front desk."
"I'll distract her." Derek simply said, reaching to unbuckle his seatbelt. I choked on a laugh
"Whoa, whoa, whoa—you? You're not going in there." Stiles reached forward and grabbed Derek's shoulder. Derek's vision flicked from Stiles' face, to the hand on his leather jacket, and back again. "I'm taking my hand off." Stiles voiced, snatching his hand off the Alpha.
"I was exonerated." Derek reminded.
"You're still a person of interest, Derek." I reminded.
"An innocent person." Derek reminded.
"An In--You? Yeah, right?" Stiles barked a hefty laugh. Derek's brows rose, not amused with Stiles. "Okay, fine. What's your plan?" Derek looked to Stiles, wondering if he was serious.
"To distract her." He reiterated, the tone in his voice stating the obvious.
"Huh? How? By punching her in the face?" Stiles thought. Amused, a wide smile lit up Derek's face before it dropped.
"By talking to her." He elaborated.
"Okay, give me a sample. What are you going to open with?" Stiles wondered. Derek turned away from Stiles. With a sigh, he turned back to stare at the teen and a silent blanketed over the two. Stiles' jaw dropped.
"Dead silence. That should work beautifully. Any other ideas?" Another silence passed over the car as Derek began thinking.
"Thinking about punching you in the face." My lips curled up into a sly smile as Stiles' jaw dropped open once more.
"Okay, as entertaining as this may be, we're wasting time." I reached around and unbuckled my seatbelt. Derek exited the car and pushed the passenger seat forward, allowing me to crawl out of the back seat. Stiles and I walked side by side behind Derek, watching him casually stroll through the double set doors of the police station. Stiles and I crouched and watched from the doors. Derek leaned up against the front desk.
"Good evening, how can I help...you." The female officers voice faltered at the first glimpse of Derek. She straightened her posture, sticking her chest forward.
"Hi." Derek smiled widely, his teeth glistening. My brows furrowed together as a light smile picked up my lips. I had realized that before this moment, I never saw Derek smile—really smile. Even though the smile was fake, he looked happy. It suited him.
"Hi." The woman replied quickly, her lips curling up into a smile. I shook myself out of the trance I had on Derek and his smile.
"Uh...I had a question." Derek paused, staring seductively at the female deputy. "Uh...sorry I'm a little thrown. I wasn't really expecting someone—" Derek ruffled his hair, his smile growing. I gritted my teeth together, feeling a pang of jealousy in the pit of my stomach.
"Like me?" The woman coyly finished.
"Well, I was going to say someone so incredibly beautiful, but yeah, I guess that would be the same thing." That sudden pang of jealousy morphed into a weird feeling of discomfort in my chest. I dug my fingernails sharply into the palm of my hand, playing off the feeling as frustration that we needed to get moving on this plan. Before I had the chance to continue and watch the love story of a conversation, Stiles grabbed my wrist and quietly led me past the officer flirting with Derek. My eyes narrowed, shooting the unaware deputy looks of detest. I quickly slipped away, in hopes Derek failed to notice my sneer and before the officer noticed my presence. Stiles and I entered his dads office, Stiles immediately making a beeline for the lock box. His fingers quickly pressed in the code and he ripped the door open. Stiles stared at the box for a split second before turning back to me with fearful eyes.
"What?" I whispered, trying to make out any of Derek's conversation with the officer.
"They're gone." Stiles revealed. The keys were gone? The only way they'd be gone already would be if...
"Oh God. They're already here." I realized. "Split up." I ordered Stiles as we rushed out of the room. I quietly ran down the long hallway, my hand wrapped into a fist in preparation to find the hunter.
"Hayl—" Stiles muffled scream caught my attention. I skidded to a stop, listening in on the suppressed cries for help. I began sprinting in the direction Stiles had run off to. Not too soon after, the shrill screams of the fire alarm echoed through the halls. I flinched as red lights began flashing, blinding my vision. The cry of a man caught my attention, causing me to run down an adjacent hallway and finally reaching the holding cells only to find myself the only person standing. Stiles was on one side of the room, cowering in a corner. The hunter laid unconscious on the ground in front of Issac's cell, which was wide open and empty. Isaac was gone. My eyes grew, looking over to my trembling friend in fear.
"Where's—" My words were cut short as a strong force tackled me to the ground. I screamed, my head knocking against the cold tile. My eyes opened to find Isaac hovering over me. His lips curled up to reveal his razor-sharp fangs as he snarled in my face. I deeply gasped as Isaac's hot breath prickling at my skin. Isaac's claws jabbed at me a few times as I swiped my own hands at him and tried to push him off of me.
"Isaac stop! It's me!" I screamed. "It's me!" Isaac roared, grabbing my arms and pinning them down. His claws grazed at my skin. Another roar escaped his lungs. Beside me, glass shattered and caught Isaac's attention. The Beta stood up over me, taking a defensive stance. I turned my head to find Derek standing in the room, his foot pressing against shards of glass syringe. I quickly sat up, pushing myself feverishly until my back hit the wall. Isaac, with hunger blazing in his eyes, looked back and forth between Derek and me. He quietly snarled and prepared himself to pounce. Before he got the chance, a ground shaking roar echoed through the room, sending shivers down my spine. Isaac scurried into the corner of the room beside the unconscious hunter and began cowering. I pressed my back up more against the wall, my body stiff and hesitant to make a move. My chest heaved while my fingers clawed at the ground, watching Isaac shift back into a human.
"How did you do that?" I spoke up, my voice laced in awe and fear. Derek turned around to meet my gaze.
"I'm the Alpha." He simply stated, his eyes grazing over me to make sure I came out unscathed. I swallowed hard, hesitant as he reached out a hand towards me to help me up from the ground.