I hate running. Hate it with everything in me. Stiles and I had to run to the hospital because my lovely father threw away the keys to the jeep. You would think a werewolf would love running, but not me. Not when I'm bloody injured.
The both of us rushed out of the elevator and straight away I noticed Mr. Stilinski glaring at Stiles.
"You know what?" Mr. Stilinski asked, stepping in our way. "It's good that we're in a hospital because I'm gonna kill you," he whispered shouted at Stiles.
Stiles nervously looked at me and then to his dad. "I'm sorry. I lost my keys to my jeep. We had to run all the way here."
"Stiles, I don't care!" his dad shouted, obviously beyond pissed.
I looked over his shoulder to see Lydia in a hospital bed with tubes and machines connected to her while her mom sat beside the bed with a worried look on her face. Lydia was hurt because I couldn't protect her in time from my own father. This was my fault.
"Is she gonna be okay?" I asked Mr. Stilinski.
He looked back at Lydia and then to us with a sigh. "They don't know, partially because they don't know what happened. She lost a lot of blood, but there's something else going on with her."
"W-What do you mean?" I stammered, feeling guilt consume me.
"The doctors say it's like she's having an allergic reaction," he explained to us. "Her body keeps going into shock. Did either of you see anything? I mean, do you have any idea who or what attacked her?"
Stiles swallowed hard, his heartbeat speeding up. "No, we have no idea."
"What about Scott?"
"What do you mean?" I questioned. "What about him?"
"Did he see anything?"
I furrowed my brows. "What do you—Is he not here?"
"What are you talking about? I've been calling him on his cell phone. I've gotten no response," Mr. Stilinski said frustratedly.
I looked behind him to see Jackson staring at us, obviously overhearing the conversation.
I don't know, he mouthed, shrugging his shoulders.
"Yeah, you're not gonna get one," Stiles said, looking down at his hands and then back to his dad.
A few minutes later, Mr. Stilinski was walking down a hallway filled with nurses and doctors with us. "Kids, listen, just go wait with your friends, all right?"
"Dad, just tell us. You know it has something to do with Derek," Stiles said tiredly.
"What?" his dad asked, looking around. "I thought you and Scott said you barely knew him."
Stiles gave me a defeated look. "We might not know him as well as Riah, but me and Scott might know him a little better than what we said."
Mr. Stilinski raised his brows before grabbing the back of Stiles' neck, pulling him away as I quickly followed. "You do realize that I'm elected to this job, right?"
"And if I help you figure this out, you'll be re-elected. Am I right?" Stiles asked. "Dad, come on."
"There might be a few things I could help with," I suggested as we stopped. "Family history and all that."
Mr. Stilinski looked like he was debating as he glanced between us. "You know what? That girl in there has got nothing to do with a six-year-old arson case."
"Hold on," I quickly said, shaking my head. "When did you decide it was definitely arson?"
He sent me an apologetic look, probably realizing that I had no idea. "When we got a key witness. And, no, I'm not tell you who it is, Stiles, but yeah, we know it's arson."
"So someone really did murder my family," I mumbled to myself as we started walking again.
"It was probably organized by a young woman."
"What young woman?" Stiles asked.
"If I knew that, she'd be in jail," Mr. Stilinski stated with annoyance.
"Was she young then, or is she young now?" I questioned.
"She's probably in her late 20s," he said, pulling out his ringing phone. "I got to grab this call."
"You don't know her name?" Stiles threw his hands up.
"No, I don't—What is this? Twenty-one questions? All we know is that she had a very distinctive...uh what do you call it? A pendant."
"What the hell's a pendant?" Stiles yelled and I rolled my eyes. I literally have a few on his chest of drawers.
"Stiles, do you go to school?" his dad yelled, and I cringed. "A pendant! It's necklace! Riah has them all over the house for God's sake. Now, can I answer the phone?"
Stiles nodded and his dad walked off, but before Stiles could say anything, I grabbed the front of his shirt. "Allison's necklace, Stiles. That's the pendent."
His eyes widened and he grabbed my hand, pulling us down the hall. "It's Kate Argent. She burned your house down."
"Damn, let's just drop that news on me like that and have a thank you party while we're at it," I sarcastically muttered.
"Sarcasm? Right now?" He looked over his shoulder at me.
"It's a coping mechanism!" I exclaimed, walking past Jackson who, for some reason, followed us.
"Hey, where are you going?" he called out behind us.
"To find Scott," I said over my shoulder briefly.
"But you don't have a car," he stated the obvious.
Stiles looked over at him with an annoyed expression. "We're aware of that. Thank you."
"Here, I'll drive," he offered, grabbing Stiles' shoulder only for it to get shoved away.
We stopped, facing him. "Look, just because you feel guilty all of a sudden doesn't make it okay, all right?" Stiles snapped, squeezing my hand tighter. "Half of this is still your fault."
"Look, I have a car. You don't," Jackson countered. "Do you want my help or not?"
Stiles sighed. "All right. Did you bring the Porsche?"
"Yeah," Jackson said, holding up the keys.
"Good," Stiles said, snatching them out of his hand. "Riah's driving."
I took the keys from Stiles, turning to walk again only to stop at Mr. Argent blocking our way out with two men behind him.
"Boys and Neriah," he said with a cruel smile and Stiles pushed me behind him. "I was wondering if you could tell me where Scott McCall is."
Just by the looks of the other men staring at only me, I knew that they all knew which family I came from and what I was. This could end horribly...
"Scott McCall?" Stiles asked, pondering for a moment. "Um, I haven't seen him since the dance. Riah?" He tightened his grip on my hand.
"I've been with Stiles the whole night," I said with a shrug and looked to Jackson. "What about you, Jackson?"
"Uh...I-I," Jackson stuttered and I started yelling at him in my head. This is exactly why he would be a shit werewolf.
"Oh, for the love of God," Stiles sighed.
Stiles was yanked out of my grip as Mr. Argent and his men grabbed us, throwing us into a dark room full of medical supplies. I turned around, sizing up the two men as Mr. Argent locked the door. There was a high possibility that they have those wolfbane bullets, and I didn't really wanna find out.
"Let's try this again," Allison's dad said lowly. "Where is Scott McCall?"
"Wouldn't you like to know," I spat, snapping my head toward one of the men who took a step closer to me.
"We don't know where he is," Stiles said, staring down Mr. Argent.
"I'm done with the lying," he snapped at us and one of the men grabbed Jackson, taking my attention away from the other that took my distraction and punched me in the stomach.
"Don't touch her!" Stiles yelled, rushing for me as I groaned, doubling over but Mr. Argent grabbed him.
"You can't hit a girl!" Jackson shouted and for once, I felt grateful he opened his mouth.
Hands grabbed my arms, making me stand and I squeezed my eyes shut, taking in deep breaths before opening them to see the three men staring at me.
Mr. Argent grabbed Stiles' collar and threw him up against the wall. "Let me ask you a question, Stiles. Have you ever seen a rabid dog?"
"No." stiles shook his head. "I can put it on my to-do list if you just let me go."
Mr. Argent did let him go but didn't step back. "Well, I have, and the only thing I've ever been able to compare it to is seeing a friend of mine turn on a full moon. Do you want to know what happened?"
"Not really," Stiles answered. "No offense to your storytelling skills."
"He tried to kill me, and I was forced to put a bullet in his head." He harshly tapped Stiles' forehead. "The whole while that he lay there dying, he was still trying to claw his way toward me, still trying to kill me, like it was the most important thing he could do with his last breath. Can you imagine that?"
"No," Stiles said, shaking his head. "And it sounds like you need to be a little bit more selective—"
Stiles got cut off by Mr. Argent hitting the wall beside his head. "Did Scott and Neriah try to kill you on the full moon? Did you have to lock them up?"
"Riah's not a werewolf!" Stiles snapped, raising his voice as Jackson turned his head toward me with a confused look but I stared at Stiles, beyond grateful. "She lives with me every day! I've been with her multiple times during a full moon, and nothing has happened!"
Mr. Argent slowly looked back at me with an unreadable expression. "He's telling the truth," I straight up lied, staring at him. "I didn't get the curse like Derek and his sister. My mother was human and thank god for that because I don't want this shit!"
He continued to stare at me, studying my every breath and blink until he turned back to Stiles. "But you had to lock up Scott, didn't you?" he asked, and Stiles stayed quiet as I processed the fact that our lie was believable for once. "Didn't you?" he shouted that time.
"Yeah, I did," Stiles said, breathing heavily. "I had to handcuff him to a radiator. Why? Would you prefer I locked him in the basement and burned the whole house down around him?"
Mr. Argent took a step back with a dry chuckle. "I hate to dispel a popular rumor, Stiles, but we never did that."
"Oh, right," I laughed, taking his attention. "Derek said you guys have a code. I guess no one ever breaks it."
"Never."
"What if someone does?" I asked, tilting my head.
He looked over at me. "Someone like who?"
"Your sister," I seethed. "She burned my family house down and killed everyone but me and my father in it! There were innocent people in there!" I felt my body changing and I focused on Stiles' rapid heartbeat, keeping me anchored. "My brother and mother were innocent! He was four!" I sucked in sharp breaths. "He was a child and your fucking sister killed him."
Mr. Argent straightened his back, staring at me, not saying a single word. Stiles looked like he'd been punched in the face as he stared at me in shock. I never told him or Scott that I had a sibling in that house fire. I never told anyone.
"Now let us the hell go," I fumed.
Turns out that Stiles was very fond of my rap sheet now. Well, at least I hope so because he asked me to break into the school, make two self-igniting Molotov cocktails, and use my driving skills to get us to the Hale house.
Jackson was currently in the back of his own Porsche, freaking the hell out about my driving. I made sure that he took a few sharp corners to the head. What? I couldn't help myself.
"Why did we let her drive again?" Jackson asked after hitting his head on the back window, again.
Stiles turned in his seat, looking at Jackson with a serious expression. "Because out of the three of us, she can get us to the Hale house without crashing."
"Can she though?" Jackson asked with clear sarcasm. "I'm currently growing three concussions back here!"
"Make it four," I muttered, pressing my foot down on the gas and making him hit the back of his head. "Stop complaining about my driving and shut up."
"This isn't exactly an all-terrain vehicle!" Jackson exclaimed when I took another corner on the dirt road.
"Yeah? Did you pay for it?" Stiles asked, facing forward again with the Molotov cocktails in each hand.
Jackson sighed. "No."
"Then shut up," Stiles and I said, and I changed gears, picking up speed.
I sped down the dirt road, knowing it like the back of my hand. I might have never gone back into my family home after the fire, but I still walked around it from time to time. Especially on full moons when I was younger and couldn't control my changing.
In the distance, the Hale house came into view of the headlights, and I pressed my hand on the horn when I saw my father in his Alpha form. I then slammed on the breaks, throwing my door open and getting out with Stiles who didn't think twice as he put all his strength into throwing one of the Molotov cocktails. I watched the beaker fly through the air, straight at my father...Who caught it. Of course, he caught it.
"Oh, damn," Stiles mumbled as Jackson climbed out of the Porsche behind me.
My eyes snagged on movement near us, and I saw Scott in his werewolf form pick something up.
"Allison!" he yelled and then threw a bow through the air to her.
She caught it, her hands working like reflects as she swiftly notched an arrow and shot it straight toward the breaker in my father's hand. Fire exploded, covering my father's arm as he roared, and I stepped back with Jackson.
"Stiles!" I yelled, holding my hands open and he quickly glanced at me before throwing me the other Molotov cocktail that I caught, turning toward my father before throwing it straight at him. It exploded, making me take a few more steps back as his body covered in flames.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, feeling my hands shake at my sides.
Even covered in fire, my father still tried to reach Allison who fell back on the ground. But Scott was there with a shout and kicked my father in the stomach. I covered my hand with my mouth, watching my father stumble away from us before dropping to his knees and the flames went out, leaving him covered in burns in his human form again.
He turned his attention to me, gagging and gasping with tears in his eyes. Part of me hated him for everything he did, but part of me still loved the father he was before he turned mad. And that's what made my legs move toward him as he fell on his back.
"I'm so sorry," I whispered, dropping to my knees at his side with tears filling my eyes. "We h-had to stop you. W-We had to." I reached for him, but there was no part of him that wasn't burnt. I couldn't touch him.
"Riah," Derek said from behind me and I looked over my shoulder with tears falling down my face. Derek slowly limped toward us, his eyes set on my father with a glare. "Move away."
I looked back at my gasping father and slowly pushed myself up on my feet before taking two steps back, allowing Derek to stand over him.
"Wait! You said the cure comes from the one who bit you!" Scott said, rushing toward us but stopping a distance away as Derek crouched over my father. "Derek. If you do this, I'm dead. Her father, her family...What am I supposed to do?"
"Derek, listen to him," I pleaded, not for my father, but for my best friend who didn't deserve any of this.
Derek closed his eyes, looking as if he was debating it, but then my father said between gasps, "You've already decided. I can smell it on you!"
I staggered back at step when Derek raised up a clawed hand. "Wait! No, no! Don't!" Scott shouted, but Derek sliced open my father's neck, spraying his blood on my legs.
Derek slowly rose with his head down and I gulped, walking backward toward Scott. When Derek turned and looked at us two, his eyes glowed red and I threw my arm out in front of Scott out of instinct.
In a tone that I'd never heard from Derek, he said, "I'm the Alpha now." And I knew we were screwed.
Beacon Hills would never be the same.