i. CITY OF BONES
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CARTER NEVER THOUGHT she would find herself in the middle of a sketchy-town in Mexico — she also never thought she would have the chance to say that she was standing between a Banshee and her five-hundred and ninety-three year old doppelgänger. They were cautiously walking further into the town, children and deranged chickens running around them as the sun cast a hot shadow upon them like a thick wool blanket.
The four of them were all a little on-edge, knowing that the Calaveras — a well known family of hunters in Mexico and some parts of South America, who were all ruthless and merciless — and that they didn't allow werewolves to walk around freely without losing their head. And that was why they needed to come up with a carefully thought out plan to face them when they found out that they had taken her brother. Carter had been gone with Raeven when Derek was taken, but only when she and Raeven returned to Beacon Hills after three months away did she find out that her brother was missing.
She hadn't exactly been pleased that none of them had taken the time to call or text her to at least notify her that Derek had been abducted. But, she also understood why they hadn't, knowing that she did not respond to any of their calls or text messages the entire time she had been gone. And with all that has happened to her, she needed to take a step back, take a deep breath, and actually think about all that has happened to her in the past few months. There wasn't much that she could remember though, all of it was whirled into a blur that only cleared out every couple of seconds — giving her a brief look at the memories. The car ride to Washington, the Temple, the ritual, the sound of her scream; each and every small piece was scattered around in her head.
But, what Carter Hale did know, was that she was a ticking time bomb.
It hadn't taken long for her to reach the conclusion that whoever, or whatever, the thing was inside the ancient temple Raeven had taken her to, wanted to unlock the dormant werewolf abilities that her Pheanix side had suppressed. A part of her, whatever small or large part that might be, didn't know how to feel about becoming more of a werewolf. It might have been better, she supposed, that part of her mind becoming stronger than the Pheanix — being able to have more control over the fiery beast. Or maybe she would become more of monster than she already was, having even less control over her actions, horrifically hurting the surrounding victims. The conflict in her mind had been enough to keep her awake at night.
And being around all of her friends again; it was hard for her to believe that in the past several months, she had changed so much.
Standing beside Lydia again, laughing with her over the simplest of things, she realized that she had morphed into someone completely different while she was gone. Being around Raeven or "Rae" as she was known back then, had made her realize that there was still so much more that she needed to discover about herself — more that needed to be dug up from the depths of her subconscious. And sitting in the same room as Scott opened her eyes to what truly happened the night that Allison died: that she had drug herself away from the pain before she could even mourn her best friend, she ran away from the numbness and right into the arms of the monster she had struggled with for so long, and she fled Beacon Hills before she could actually feel remorse for not trying harder to save the huntress.
And yet, when she had looked away from Scott the day she had returned, she saw the boy that she was slowly falling in love with. She saw Stiles, the only light that had been able to break through the dark that is her life and the only thing that had brought her away from the edge. She saw a boy that had been cursed with the fate to love a Pheanix with a dark past and an even darker heart.
"Caterina."
Carter moved her eyes from her fumbling fingers, blinking a few times before running her shaky hands over her face, looking to her left to see that Raeven was staring intently at her, a concerned expression on her face. She smiled at her full name, knowing that she only allowed Raeven to call her that because of how much she reminded the girl of her mother.
Pulling her lips into a tight line, Carter nodded at Raeven. "Yeah, Rae?"
The undead girl looked weary, an expression Carter had never seen on her face, almost seeming afraid to say what was right on the tip of her tongue. "Are you ever going to tell me what happened to you four years ago?" she asked, her voice was low and she kept looking out of the corner of her eye to make sure that Stiles and Lydia didn't hear.
Carter was defeated, her face falling completely as she let out a deep sigh — Raeven had been pestering her about that night ever since Carter had made a slight reference to it. She frowned deeply, trying not to think back to the memories she had shut out long ago. Rarely ever did she recall back to the night when everything changed between herself and her brother, mostly for the very reason of how gruesome it had been. She didn't like remembering the blood and the flames and the screams — the agony.
She knew that eventually she would have to tell them, but before she could even take in a breath to speak, Stiles' voice sounded.
Stiles sighed, rubbing his hands together. "This doesn't seem so bad."
"It's not the town, it's the plan." Carter replied, crossing her arms over her chest, feeling the basking sun shine down upon her bare arms. A sense of relief coursing through her at Stiles' brilliant timing, knowing that she still wasn't ready to talk about it.
Carter and Lydia had both been extremely pessimistic and verbal about how they didn't think their plan was going to work out. The two girls both knew that their plans always sounded good on paper, but when they actually tried to act them out, it always backfired. Raeven kept making snide comments about how the brunette and the strawberry-blonde didn't trust Stiles' plan-making skills; he did have better success rates than Scott's, but Stiles' last plan was for him to allow the Nogitsune to possess him so it wouldn't harm Carter.
And they all knew how that turned out.
"What's wrong with the plan?" Stiles asked, becoming slightly defensive as he turned to look toward the girl.
"Stiles," Carter called out flatly, finally glancing up to meet his eyes. The same chocolate brown mixed with golden caramel eyes that had completely changed her perception on anything and everything in her life. Ideale Altro. "This could be the stupidest plan we've ever come up with. You're aware of that, right?"
Raeven smirked, cocking her head to the side upon hearing her doppelgänger's remark. "I mean, I've only know y'all for a few days, aside from Carter, and from what I've gathered — this cannot be the best that you have ever come up with."
Stiles shot a glare toward Raeven, "Hey, come on guys, have a little faith."
"We are going to die," Lydia announced, taking the first step toward the "club" where the Calavera's were located. Scott, Malia and Kira were all inside as well, scoping out the place while they awaited the arrival of their other counterparts.
"Okay, are you saying that as a Banshee or are you just being pessimistic?" Stiles questioned, swiping his hand over his face before fumbling with the zipper on his jacket nervously.
The idea of one of them having a supernatural feeling about their plan hadn't occurred to Carter until Stiles' had said it out loud. She wasn't feeling anything; no surges of scorching heat, no skull splitting headache — nothing, but that didn't mean Lydia wasn't. "I think she's saying it as a person who doesn't want to die," Carter pointed out, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly.
Raeven clapped her hands together in an attempt to settle the tension. "Okay, would you just mind restricting any talk of death to actual Banshee or Pheanix predictions? Because, I don't know about you guys, but I don't feel like dying — again."
Lydia smiled, giving the undead doppelgänger one of the most sarcastic grins she had ever seen. "This plan is stupid and we're going to die."
Carter snorted.
"Oh, thank you," Stiles retorted, shooting her just as much sarcasm as she had given them.
Raeven sighed, "Next time, I'm going with the broody-Alpha."
By the time it had taken the four of them to reach the building, the sun was beginning to set — casting its golden-orange hue on all of the buildings in the small run-down village and it was making Carter uncomfortable. So unnerved to the point where she was reaching out to grab Stiles' wrist, not planning on letting go until they had entered the building. Her grip on his wrist tightened when she suddenly winced back in pain, a blinding pressure welling at the base of her skull.
A small security camera had been placed up in the corner above the door leading into the club. The lens whirring as it turned to the side, zooming in on the small group of teenagers. And Lydia, being the smartest person in the group, sparked up a conversation in spanish with the two men guarding the door. One of the burly men shook his head, denying them entry to their "fiesta". Plan B had fallen into commencing: Stiles reached into his back pocket and pulled out a card with a skull on it, holding it up to the camera.
The automatic lock on the door clicked, Carter's eyes widened before she nodded up at Stiles. As the door creaked opened, Stiles readjusted the brunette's hold on him and grabbed her hand, intertwining their fingers.Lydia swallowed thickly before she took the first step inside while Raeven shot a wink at the guards as she followed behind the Banshee. Carter fell into step with them, pulling Stiles along with her, and as soon as they were all inside, the door slammed shut. All of their heads whipped around to see if the guards had followed them in, but they hadn't.
The first thing that Carter had noticed was the extremely detailed door at the end of the hallway. The flat surface of it seemed to rise off into three dimensional spikes — but they weren't sharpened to the point where they could seriously hurt someone. The second thing was the pulsing on music coming from the other side of the door, the bass hitting hard enough to make Carter's knees hurt, taking a deep breath, she pushed it open to reveal a raging party. Neon lights were shooting out every which way, all of the people in the room had their bodies pressed against one another. Majority of the males were shirtless with jeans hanging low on their hips while the females adorned themselves with the least amount of clothing they could get away with.
Raeven grabbed Carter's unoccupied hand, nodding her head in the direction of the bar before she began to maneuver her way through the crowd. Carter let the brunette lead the way, knowing that she wouldn't waste anytime getting them away from the mass of people because Raeven was one of the most impatient and impulsive person she had ever met. And the closer they got to the bar, the more and more Carter found herself wanting to drag Stiles out into the crowd and dance, finding the music selection very appealing — wanting to actually live the life of a normal teenager for a change. But, she knew that they needed to stay focused if they wanted to find her brother alive.
Once they arrived at the bar, the bartender slid four shots of Mexican Tequila in their direction. Raeven huffed down at the liquor in distaste, never being able to grasp the concept of anyone ever wanting to drink themselves into an oblivion. Stiles looked between Carter and Lydia anxiously before he began to fumble around in his pocket to retrieve his wallet, fully prepared to pay for the drinks. Well, that was until a firm hand onto Carter's shoulder, the girl's heightened animalistic instincts causing her to immediately stiffen.
"No—on the house," a large middle-aged man with a thick spanish accent said, the four of them awkwardly craning their necks in order to get a good look at the man. "Most American teenagers don't cross the border to refuse a drink."
Lydia's lips fell into a tight line, her hand moving into the depths of her bag. "We didn't come to drink," she announced, lifting her hand above the shot glass before dropping a gold bullet casing into the liquor—one of the many casings they had found in Derek's loft.
And from his silence, they knew that he was about to take them exactly where they wanted to go.
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"Severo hates this music. Me? I've always loved the music of youth. This kind, especially—it has a savage energy." Araya explained, quietly shredding a piece of cloth with a small blade.
Carter's nostrils flared in sudden anger, not appreciating the woman's shenanigans when her brother's life was at stake. And after everything that had happened with the Oni and the Nogitsune: all of them trying to cope with the loss of Allison and Aiden; Isaac and Chris leaving Beacon Hills—Carter was desperate to make sure that one thing would come out in their favor, and that would be to save Derek.
The Were-Pheanix gritted her teeth. "We're here for my brother: Derek Hale."
"Is that so?" Araya inquired, lifting her eyes from the cloth she was prying at to meet Carter's eyes. The brunette could all but feel Stiles squirming uncomfortably in the seat to her left while Lydia and Raeven remained as straight-faced as Carter.
Raeven leaned forward, placing her forearms on her knees. "We know you have him, so there really isn't a point to all of this side-tracking that you're doing here by trying to intimidate us."
"And we've heard that you can be bought," Lydia added, raising her eyebrows and straightening her shoulders.
And that was when Stiles pulled out the thick stacks of cash out of his jacket, slamming them on the wooden tabletop. After his palm grazed the last stack he laid down did he lean back in his chair, "It's fifty-thousand for Derek."
"Now," Araya breathed out, setting the cloth and the knife down on the table, "where does a teenage boy get money life this?" She questioned, the corner of her lips tugged upward into a knowing smirk—she knew exactly where that money came from. "Japanese mafia?" She inquired, as if on cue, the surrounding men all cocked their guns in unison. She smirked at this, leaning forward on her desk, "Not smart to come alone."
"What makes you think we came alone?" Stiles pondered, his voice low and serious; the sound sending an unfamiliar surge of emotions mixed with raging hormones through Carter and it caused her to shudder.
But, as if suddenly snapped out of her stupa, her and Raeven glanced toward Araya with their real eyes. Carter's orbs glowed with a raging fire as they broke through the darkness in the room, the color showcasing just how powerful she was. Raeven's irises shined a bright seafoam green, the color instantly alerting everyone in the room—no one knowing just what kind of creature she was. And despite the two creatures in the room, they weren't alone. They had Scott; a True Alpha—Malia; a Werecoyote—Kira; a thunder Kitsune.
"You brought wolves into my home?" Araya shouted, certain disgust in her voice as she shot up from her chair, the wooden legs screeched across the floor. "And you," she pointed a finger toward Raeven, "what are you?"
"Oh, honey, I've been around a long time, you're going to have to do a better job at trying to scare me into telling you." Raeven chided, a smug grin on her face as she leaned back in her chair.
"Diable," Araya muttered in realization. "Demi-Demon."
"The one and only—literally."
Araya took in a deep breath, beginning to pace around the area behind her desk. "My friends," she sighed, clasping her hands behind her back, "I don't think you're aware of your poor timing. Do you know what the dark moon is?"
"The part of the lunar phase when the moon is least visible in the sky," Lydia explained, her voice quiet as she stared blankly at the desk.
Araya turned her back to the teenagers, gazing out the window into the orange sky. "But do you know its meaning?"
Carter huffed in irritation, "Some people say it's a time of reflection—or grief."
"Grief and loss, mija," Araya added quickly, turning away from the window to face the group, wrapping her hands around the edges of her large chair. "I wonder why, when you and your friends have suffered so much loss, you would risk it again for someone like Derek Hale."
Stiles clenched his jaw. "Because we don't like to lose."
A hand-held radio on the desk began to relay the voice of one of her men: "Front door clear — south clear."
Severo pressed the button on the side of the radio, holding it up to his mouth before speaking into it: "North?"
But instead of hearing the familiar voice of one their associates, they heard the voice of Scott McCall: "Stiles, take ten off the table." Carter smirked, knowing that Scott had been able to take out the guard stationed at the North entrance.
Stiles reached out and grabbed one of the stacks and pulled it off the table before sliding it back into his jacket. Lydia let her eyes roam over the remaining four-thousand dollars before she glanced up at Araya. "Maybe you should just take the deal."
"While I'm keen to follow the warning of a Banshee, I'm going to have to decline." Araya retorted, smirking as she leaned against her desk. Her dark eyes slowly travelled over to Carter, "And I hope you didn't lose the ability to feel whether or not your friends are in trouble while you were in Washington—you're going to need it."
Carter leaned forward, "Oh, don't worry, I didn't. I can feel everything—well, my friends might not be in danger, but, your men are."
Stiles stiffened in his seat. "All right, come on, just give us Derek. You don't want him anyway. Haven't you noticed what a downer he is? No sense of humor, poor conversationalist. Just come on, take the money."
Araya shook her head, snatching the radio off her desk. "Severo? Show them how the Calaveras negotiate."
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"Hey, guys, he's awake."
All of them, including Malia, Kira, and an unconscious Scott, had been shoved into what seemed to be a large bathroom. It was dirty — actually, it was extremely filthy. Black mold was lining the cracks in the tiles on the walls and on some spots on the floor. And the once pearly white sinks were now yellow with layers upon layers of water residue and grime. But Lydia was nowhere to be seen and Carter was on edge, knowing that there were so many things that the Calaveras could be doing with her or to her and she wanted to know where her friend was.
And, as it turned out, everything they knew or thought they knew about Derek's whereabouts were wrong, meaning that they weren't just brought back to where they started, they had to completely start over because since the beginning they thought that the Calaveras had been the ones that took him.
Carter's head snapped down in Scott's direction, the boy sucking in sharp gasps as he shot up into a sitting position. The boy taking notice of Stiles, Carter, Malia and Raeven all rushing over toward him and Kira. The Were-Pheanix leaning down in concern, "Scott, are you okay?"
And instead of answering the brunette, he shouted: "They don't have him—they don't have Derek!"
"We know," Kira assured, rubbing his arm softly as she and Stiles helped him to his feet. "But right now, they've got Lydia."
"Lydia?" Scott repeated in confusion. "What do they want with Lydia?"
"It's because she's a Banshee," Raeven announced, leaning against one of the support beams in the bathroom. "Most hunters really don't know anything about Banshees, just like Pheanixs, but I guess Araya enjoyed Lydia's smarts more than Carter's sass."
"We have to get out of here," Scott proclaimed, pushing himself away from Kira and Stiles, rushing toward the door. He began to try any way possible to get the door open, all of his friends watched as he tried various ways—but, all ending with the same result—nothing. Scott panted, out of breath from the wolfsbane.
Kira sighed, firmly placing her hands on her hips. "We already looked for a way out. I think a lot of people have." Scott's fingers ran along the length of scratch marks embedded in the tile from people who had tried to escape prior to them.
"I say when that door opens again, we take out whoever's standing in the way and run for it." Malia explained, casually leaning against a support beam next to Raeven, her hands clasped behind her back.
"What about Lydia?" Carter asked.
Malia blinked, "What about her?"
"We're not leaving without her."
Malia furrowed her brows at Scott, "Why not?"
Stiles moved toward Malia, "Because we don't leave without people, remember? We talked about this. Rules of the wild kingdom don't apply to friends." He said to her quietly, and there was something about the way Malia looked at him that had Carter taking a challenging step forward—feeling the need to prove herself.
"Is that what you would do as a coyote, leave her for dead?" Kira questioned, becoming more and more curious of Malia's ways.
"If she was weak and injured, yeah," Malia replied simply. "If hunting had been bad that season, I would eat her—then I'd leave."
"What?" Carter breathed out in exasperation, rubbing furiously at her temples. Her heightened werewolf side was kicking in, allowing her anger to control her mouth. "You—okay, you're not a coyote anymore, Malia. You get that, right? People don't eat people; and friends don't leave friends to die."
"Carter," Raeven called out, pushing herself away from the beam and making her way toward her doppelgänger, practically seeing the steam flying out of her ears and smelling the rage radiating off her body. When she approached the Pheanix, she could see that Carter's muscles were visibly trembling beneath her skin. "Carter, you need to calm down."
The trembling became feverish, watching as her fingernails elongated into claws, stretching out her jaw as it ached—revealing to everyone that her unusually long fangs had slipped through her gums. "I don't—I don't know what's happening...what's happening to me?" Carter gasped out, falling to her knees when a sudden pain sparked up in her skull. She hastily gripped the sides of her head, crying out in agony as her strengthened wolf tried to force her to continue shifting.
"Carter," Stiles' voice flittered into her ears, sounding muffled and unclear. "Come on, Carter, you can do this. Keep control—fight it, I know you can d—"
He had been cut off when the door slid open, several men storming in with taser-wands in their hands. Scott, being the over protective person he was, stepped toward them, challenging them. And before anyone could react, Severo zapped the wand to life, jabbing it into Scott's chest and he fell to the floor. Severo stepped over Scott's unconscious body, moving toward his real goal.
Stiles stood up from his crouched position next to Carter, "Don't you dare touch—"
A hard blow came to his jaw before Severo slapped the wand into Carter's back, sending a wave of electricity pulsing through her before she was surrounded by darkness.
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not edited.
sooo, here we are, the official first chapter of the third installment of the Silent Guardian Series - and im sooooooooo excited!
but, i also know that a lot of you are probably going to be confused as to what is going on with Carter and what happened to her while she and Raeven "Rae" we're gone - i just want you guys to be patient, it will all come with time.