ix. THE PERFECT STORM
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AFTER ALMOST RIPPING Violet's throat out, Carter received a text from Lydia saying that she cracked another third of the list. It had been Aiden's name that time. Lydia sent the brunette a screenshot of the deadpool, allowing her to see all the names on the list. This third of the deadpool had Carter's head turning into a mess. Brett Talbot wasn't her first priority, but Jordan was. Deputy Jordan Parrish was not only on the deadpool, but he was worth five million dollars—compared to most, that was a lot. It paled in comparison to Carter's fifty million, but it was still enough to motivate the wrong people.
Her earlier theory about Jordan being some sort of supernatural creature had just been proven. But, from what she could tell, Parrish was completely oblivious to the supernatural world. He didn't come off as shady, like Peter. In fact, he appeared to be a genuinely kind and charming young man that wanted nothing more than to help others. But he knew more than he was letting on, you couldn't work and live in Beacon Hills without figuring out that something was wrong with this town.
The brunette had exited the locker room before the cops showed up; needing the air to try and gather her bearings enough to go back inside and face the deadly situation she placed herself in only moments ago. When Stiles stumbled into the locker room he found Scott on the floor, cradling a sobbing Carter in his arms and she kept mumbling: "I don't know what's wrong with me" and "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to." It appeared as though she had a mental break down, until he noticed the blood covering her entire left hand.
But, she managed to pull herself together enough to fight her way back into the school. She was instantly met with various lacrosse players milling around in a panic, dealing with the aftermath of that night's events. She knew that Stiles was safe; the boy taking the liberty of driving Brett to the animal clinic to seek help from Deaton. She was completely lost and confused as she finally entered the high school—her main priority was to find Scott, despite how awkward it was going to be.
As she continued down the hallway, a familiar Beta was pushing through a crowd of players to get to her side. His bright blue eyes were wide, rushing toward the girl. Her sadness and guilt instantly disappeared and was replaced by concern as the boy approached her. She cupped his face in her hands, tilting it from side-to-side to make sure he wasn't injured.
"Hey, are you all right?" Liam questioned, reaching out and taking her bloodied hand into his own—examining her hand and arm. Also noticing the blood stain on her shirt, surrounding a large hole that had been created when Violet stabbed her. "Why are you covered in blood?"
"It's not mine," She breathed out. "It's Violet's blood. I stopped her from attacking Brett, which resulted in her stabbing me right before I tried to kill her. Now, on to more important matters, Lydia managed to crack the next part of the deadpool—you and Logan still aren't on it. But Brett was."
She raised herself onto her toes to try and find Scott over the sea of people. She knew that there was no point in trying to hone in on his scent or voice—there were too many voices buzzing around her and the entire hallway stunk of sweat and dirt. She had no idea where he could be, and she wanted to find him quickly. Needing him to know about Jordan. The enigma that was Jordan Parrish was quickly driving her insane. It wasn't the fact that he was supernatural—that much she had assumed before she found out—it was that she doesn't know what he is. She would've been able to tell if he were a werewolf...but there were so many other possibilities.
And as much as she wanted to find Scott, she wanted to turn around and go back to the station and talk to Parrish more. She wanted to be the one who insinuated the idea of the existence of supernatural creatures and physically see his reaction. Just a slight facial reaction would give her the answer she needed. Carter refused to let the strong bond between her and Parrish be wasted on the fact that he was a supernatural and knew about it the entire time—and did nothing to help them. She refused to let it happen.
Liam immediately noticed that her eyes were scanning the crowd. He knew that she was looking for Scott. For only being around them for such a short time, he picked up on their dynamics pretty quickly. But he still had a hard time distinguishing the relationship between Scott, Carter, and Stiles. It was obvious that Scott and Carter were more than friends—or, were more than friends at one point in time—sometime recently had they cut their relationship short. But he also knew that Stiles and Carter were a thing without a doubt—seeing that the two seemed to gravitate toward one another.
There was definitely a love-triangle that needed to be sorted out before things got messy. It was as if Carter was hesitant on picking between Scott and Stiles—afraid that if she picked one she would lose the other. Or worse, she would break the bond that had been created between Scott and Stiles long before she came back to Beacon Hills. And she just couldn't bring herself to do that.
Carter wasn't Carter without Stiles; but she also wasn't herself without Scott.
She needed both of them to keep herself on track. She hadn't been lying when she told Scott that he and Stiles were her humanity. If it had been anyone else that walked into the locker room when she had her claws in Violet's neck, they wouldn't have been able to stop her from killing the assassin. And if that would've happened, they would've lost the Carter Hale they knew forever. There was no going back.
"Scott's down the hall talking with his dad," Carter looked back to Liam, the Beta nodded down the hall. "Here," he shrugged off his jacket before handing it to her, "I don't think you want to explain to Scott's dad that you were stabbed and how it magically healed."
She smiled at him, nodding in thanks before tugging the jacket over her shoulders before zipping it up, covering the blood on her shirt. Liam grabbed her hand as he began to make his way through the crowd once again, pulling Carter through by her hand to make sure she didn't get caught in the current of people. It was obvious that she had taken a strong liking to Liam, and he with her, wanting nothing more than to protect each other. She was like his big sister—and Carter had alway wanted a little brother.
When they had finally made their way through the crowd, Carter peaked her head around a corner to see Scott in a deep conversation with his father. Knowing that Agent McCall was working hard to rebuild his relationship with Scott, she knew better than to interrupt. Which was why she and Liam remained where they were.
The chatter around them suddenly fell to complete silence as a certain girl was being led out of the locker room where the three attempted murders took place. Deputy Jordan Parrish was the one leading her out, a hand locked on her forearm. It took all of Carter's might not to run over to him and demand to know what he is. As they walked past Carter and Liam, Violet's smug grin fell and fear quickly took its place. It was evident that Violet was afraid of the brunette—knowing very well that she literally had her life in her hand.
Liam leaned forward to whisper in Carter's ear when he noticed the claw marks embedded in the side of Violet's neck. "Did you do that?"
Carter gulped and nodded, watching as Violet's brown eyes wavered from away from Carter and toward Parrish, her irises falling upon his name tag.
"Jordan Parrish?"
"Deputy Parrish," Jordan corrected gruffly, not letting his confusion as to how she knew his name seep through his facade.
And as soon as Violet was escorted out of the building, Carter grabbed Liam's hand once more and began pulling him toward Scott, Agent McCall, and Sheriff Stilinski who had been approaching both of the McCalls. When Carter made her way over, Scott's eyes widened before rushing to her side. When he made his way to her, she instantly wrapped her arms around his neck. Agent McCall watched in admiration as his son pulled the brunette girl into his arms, he had never seen so much emotion being displayed through such a simple gesture.
Reluctantly, Scott pulled away, "Are you okay? I thought you took off again."
The sadness in his voice caused another wave of guilt to surge through her chest. She was still paying the price for the way she left things when she skipped town with Raeven. The letters to Stiles, Scott, and Derek were shitty ways to say goodbye, but she wasn't able to bring herself to do it in person. And she left Scott wallowing in all of his unresolved feelings for her and his grief for Allison.
She smiled sadly up at him, placing a hand gently on the side of his neck, cupping his jaw. "I know when I left with Raeven I left things between us unsettled, and for that, I'm sorry. But, Scott, you can't take your anger toward me out on Stiles. He did nothing wrong. You didn't either, and neither did I. It's my cursed Pheanixs genes that pulled our relationship apart. I just want you to know that I'm never leaving again. And I—" she paused, feeling a thick ball swell up in her throat. She needed to tell him while she still had the courage or she never would. Even though she was in a relationship with Stiles, she needed him to know. "Scott, I—"
"Sheriff, what is that? Is that the weapon?"
Upon hearing those words, the two broke apart. Carter kicked at the ground while Agent McCall's eyes fell upon the evidence bag in Stilinski's hand. "Yeah, it's a uh, thermo-cut wire." McCall continued to eye the thermo-cut wire, quickly turned around before calling out: "Parrish, hold up!" Confused, yet interested, Stilinski followed after the FBI Agent as they went to go speak with Violet once more.
Glancing toward Liam, Scott asked: "Where's Kira?"
"She took off," Liam announced. "Stiles told her about Lydia cracking the second part of the deadpool."
"Her mom's on it," Carter breathed out. "And so was Kate Argent and Jordan Parrish. I didn't even know Parrish was anything other than human—well, I didn't know for sure, I had my suspicions."
"Everyone's on it," Liam corrected.
Scott shook his head. "Not everyone. Not you and Logan."
"Not yet. There's still another third, right?"
"Thermo-cut wire's a very unusual weapon, Violet." Carter cocked her head to the side, listening to what Agent McCall was saying to Violet down the hall. "Now, we've got a file at the Bureau on something similar. Used in over a dozen murders."
Violet's pulse jumped, but didn't show any sign of guilt. "I don't know what you're talking about. I just go to school here."
"Maybe we should call your parents then—oh, no. That's right. You don't have any parents." Agent McCall's words seemed to anger the petite brunette, narrowing her eyes at the man. "That's why they call you The Orphans." As Jordan began to pull Violet away from the Agent, McCall leaned over and whispered to Stilinski: "We need to find her boyfriend, Garrett."
Stilinski nodded, moving toward Coach Finstock. "Coach, I'm gonna need both their locker numbers. And someone find me a set of bolt cutters."
While everyone else went to find a pair of bolt cutters, the three teenagers took matters into their own hands. Without alerting any of the deputies, they managed to slip back into the locker room. Upon entering, they had to step over a small puddle of blood that had dripped off the knife Violet used to stab Carter—the smear of crimson on the wall adjacent to the showers also caught their attention. Where Carter had almost killed the assassin.
The brunette shook her head, following behind Scott toward Garrett's locker while Liam took watch at the entrance, making sure that no deputies would walk in while they were ransacking the wanted boy's locker. Carter watched as Scott wrapped his hand around the lock, breaking it open with one quick yank. She looked up, locking eyes with Liam to check and see if anyone other than the three of them had heard the commotion. Glancing back to the locker, there wasn't anything out of the ordinary inside other than a large red and black duffel bag resting at the bottom.
"I think someone's coming," Liam announced as Scott crouched down, grabbing the zipper. "Hurry."
Carter nudged Scott's side with her knee, and with that, Scott open the duffel bag. Their eyes widened when they saw bundles of wadded up cash stacks inside. It was all the money Garrett and Violet had received from the Benefactor for killing Demarco and Carrie. From what she could see, there at least had to be hundreds upon thousands of dollars inside.
As the voices outside the locker room grew closer, Liam questioned: "Did you find anything?"
Upon noticing the conflicted look on Scott's face, Carter answered for him. "No, nothing."
Lying had become so easy for her, finding herself doing it a lot more than ever.
And she knew that they were going to catch up to her eventually.
○ ○ ○
Carter groaned under her breath as she walked into the Sheriff's station beside Stiles and Raeven the next day. An alarming pain shot down her spine, causing her back to arch slightly at the discomfort—but pushed the revelation aside when her eyes landed on Jordan Parrish. The trio was interested in talking to Meredith once again after realizing that she did indeed help them crack the second third on the deadpool. And they also wanted to talk to Jordan.
She wanted to clear the air with him before the situation drove her crazy.
Jordan began to lead them to Sheriff Stilinski's office, "Your dad should be back within the hour. You want to wait in his office?"
Carter sighed, "Actually, Jordan, we're not here to see the Sheriff. We're here because we wanted to talk to you."
Jordan's eyebrows furrowed at that, confused as to why the three of them came all the way to the Sheriff's station to talk to him.
"Privately."
The man nodded warily, leading them into Stilinski's office. And as he did so, Carter was pulling the printed out copy of the deadpool from within her bag, anxiously handing it over to him. She had folded it in half perfectly—just so he could see every name and price on the list aside from his own. His name was just below the crease made in the paper, the last name on the list. He would be able to have an idea of what he was seeing and what was going on before the couple had to tell him that he was in fact on a supernatural hit list and was worth five million dollars dead.
As his vibrant green eyes scanned over the names and the numbers, realization seemed to cross his features. It wasn't difficult to infer that the numbers besides the names were actually prices. They were there for a reason, and for someone with his intelligence, it wasn't difficult to deduct what he was really looking at.
"This is a hit list?" Jordan asked, needing to hear the clarification out loud before he let himself believe that the people on the list were actually being hunted and killed all for profit.
Stiles glanced toward Carter and Raeven, getting nods in confirmation before he spoke: "We call it a deadpool. Recognize any of the names?"
"Yeah," Parrish admitted, nodding his head. "The Sheriff had me run a bunch of these through the system last night. But we couldn't find any of them."
"Show him the other thing," Stiles said, gesturing for Carter to show him the last name on the list.
The deputy glanced toward Carter in confusion as she took a small step forward. She grabbed the top of the list between her fingers, plucking it out of his hands before flipping it over and handing it back to him. "I think you missed a name, Jordan."
His jaw fell slack, green eyes growing wide when he noticed that his name and a number were typed on the list in big black bold letters. The brunette slowly took a step back as his entire body seemed to tighten at the revelation. She had no idea what his reaction was going to be—it wasn't an everyday occurrence finding out that your name in on a hit list. Carter understood the feeling. When she first saw her name on the deadpool—she wasn't surprised—but she was scared.
Jordan shot up from leaning against the desk, moving away from them slightly as he straightened out the paper, not being able to pull his eyes off his name. "Okay. That's kind of terrifying."
Carter couldn't bring herself to nod at his words, but she did fumble with her fingers. If being on the deadpool wasn't terrifying enough, try being worth fifty million dollars. It made her the biggest target. Her name on the list didn't surprise her, but the price did. She thought Scott's would be worth so much more than her—what was so special about being a Pheanix? Especially one whose blood was tainted when she was bitten by a werewolf? She understood that Pheanixs were extremely rare and powerful creatures, she just couldn't wrap her head around the fact that her "abilities" were worth so much more if she were dead.
"What's the number?"
Awkwardly and in slight discomfort, Raeven spoke: "That's how much you're worth."
He whipped around, facing the couple. "I'm worth five dollars?"
Carter grinned despite herself, "That is almost comical—but, I think you should try five million. You're worth five million dollars."
Jordan stared at the girl, "I only make forty thousand a year." He then glanced back down toward the large bold number five printed right next to his name. "Maybe I should kill myself."
Carter's throat and heart clenched at that, "Please, don't. I'd rather not experience another death for a long time."
"I don't get it," Jordan murmured, meeting her dark eyes. "Why am I on here?" He then looked toward Raeven before bringing his attention back to Carter. "And since when do you have a twin?"
"She's not my twin."
"I'm her doppelgänger."
"It's a very long and confusing story for another time," Carter interjected. "And to answer your first question: it can wait for another day. Right now, there's still another third of the list we've got to crack."
Stiles stepped forward, "And to do that, we need the third cipher key. But we need help getting it."
"From who?"
Carter pursed her lips, the name feeling awkward on her tongue after what happened last night. "Meredith."
Jordan's eyes widened, "The girl from Eichen?" He questioned, making his way toward the door, opening it in order to signal their cue to exit. "The last time you saw her, you almost gave her a nervous breakdown."
Carter whirled around to face him, raising a brow. "Uh—almost."
Somehow, by some miracle, that was able to convince Jordan enough. Carter did in face, almost give Meredith Walker a nervous breakdown—almost being the key word—which meant they were still able to talk to her and get her to help them. Besides, being one of the names on the deadpool, the deputy realized that it may have been in his best benefit to help them. But he also noticed that the three of them seemed to know a lot more about the hit list than any normal person would be comfortable with.
And as usual, the teenagers always seemed to know more about Beacon Hills than everyone else.
Which was why the four of them found themselves entering Eichen House. That being Stiles and Carter's second time going into the God forsaken building. It was a place that the downright insane were sent to, locked in each cell were people who were expressing the destruction that was normally suppressed in most people. It was a place that could bring out the worst qualities in a person, giving any visitors a full display of what their future held. And it was now a place that Stiles and Carter feared—only returning to the institution because it was absolutely necessary.
Carter's body visibly trembled as they walked behind an orderly down the hallway toward Meredith's room, the sound of jangling keys echoed harshly around the silent hallway. And just as the orderly was sticking the key into the doorknob, they were glancing down the hallway when they heard a door creak. There stood Brunksi, absorbed in all his arrogance. The human and Pheanix couple couldn't stand that man—he had been the one that locked Stiles in solitary confinement; giving him a sedative that allowed the Nogitsune to come out.
"Oh, no, not this guy," Stiles muttered.
Carter rolled her eyes, "I hate him."
Brunski roughly pushed his way in between Carter and Stiles, sending the brunette right into Jordan's chest. A low and rumbling growl got caught in the back of her throat feeling Jordan's hands wrap around her biceps as he helped her regain her balance. She gave him a faint smile, nodding in thanks as Brunski opened his mouth.
"What the hell are we running here?" Brusnki demanded, snatching the keys out of the other orderly's hands. "A bed and breakfast? You do not just open the door for anyone with a badge."
Raeven scoffed from the other side of Parrish, "What a douchebag."
Jordan slightly smirked at the Carter look-alike, but as quickly as it came, it disappeared when Brunski turned to face him. "We need to Meredith Walker. It involves a murder investigation."
"Well, you can talk to her all you want," Brunski snapped, casting a dark look toward the three around Parrish "But these three, especially those two, they're out of here." The burly man referring to Stiles and Carter, knowing that they had caused a lot of trouble when they resided in the facility.
Jordan stepped forward, not liking the way the man was talking about the teenagers beside him. "They're crucial witnesses in an ongoing investigation. I wouldn't have brought them here if it wasn't absolutely...crucial."
With that, Carter visibly winced. She would definitely need to help him with his lying—he was going to need to perfect it, and fast. They were dealing with werewolf, Kitsunes, Banshees, and doppelgängers all day, everyday—so, that had to finesse their moral compasses, allowing themselves to lie even to the people they cared about the most.
Taking a challenging step toward Jordan, Brunski retorted: "Okay, Deputy. How about you come back with a court order, then I'll listen." He backed away from the deputy, leaving Jordan with a rather dark look on his face before he closed the proximity between himself and Stiles. "As for you, Mister Stilinski, how about you come back with payment in full. That's right. Daddy may be the Sheriff, but he's late on the bills. I guess those government jobs aren't as reliable as they used to be, huh?"
Carter opened her mouth to speak, but was rendered silent when Jordan spoke first. "But they do help when you need a favor." Four sets of eyes fell upon him, Brunski turning away from the boy to face the man. "Like, how a month ago Canaan P.D. helped you get home after blowing a point-one on a breathalyzer."
A wide and proud smile found its way onto Carter's lips, faking a surprised gasp. "Ah, I'm shocked."
Brunski shot the brunette a dirty glare, but she couldn't care less. They now had leverage over him, meaning that the head orderly had to let them in and speak to Meredith without any interference. Jordan Parrish had done it. He had found their way in.
"All right," Brunski mused, realizing that he had been beat. "I'm not against a little quid-pro-quo." He patted Stiles' shoulder, a satisfied grin on Stiles' face. "Not at all." He then handed Stiles the set of keys, the boy clutching them with an even bright grin. "Not at all."
They were all beaming at Parrish as Brunski turned down the hallway, disappearing. Clasping a hand on Jordan's shoulder, Stiles pointed toward him. "You. You, I like you." Parrish smiled, leading the way into Meredith's room. "I'm gonna keep you."
The door labeled: 417 opened with a loud creak, revealing Meredith Walker. The girl was seated on one of the beds, her feet dangling off the side as her hands rested in her lap. The three teenagers moved further into the room, plopping down on the bed positioned directly across Meredith, and Carter was instantly brought back to the time her and Scott were in one of those rooms when they entered Stiles' mind—it was also the night she had broken up with Scott.
And right in the middle of their explanation—an explanation that involved Carter apologizing to the girl about last night and how her anger got the best of her—the Were-Pheanix suddenly reached out for Stiles. Her hand locked around his forearm like iron, gripping onto as she tried to keep herself from crying out in pain. Stiles was about to ask her what was wrong, but stopped himself when he noticed the blood beginning to stain her shirt.
This, of course, had sent Stiles into a panic. He was ready to pick Carter up in his arms and rush out of Eichen House. And just as he was about to do so, she stopped him. Giving him a look that meant getting the cipher key from Meredith was more important than whatever was going on back at home. Carter gave him a nod, silently telling him that "Scott" was fine and that he would be healed before they knew it.
"Meredith, what do you mean you can't tell us?" Raeven inquired, raising a brow in a questioning manner.
"We just need the third key," Stiles added, placing a firm hand on Carter's wound as he wrapped his arm around her waist. Jordan watched the teenagers interact from his position by the door, barely missing the blood on Carter's shirt. "You can give it to us in numbers, letters, hieroglyphs. Whatever you want."
Meredith shook her head. "I can't."
Carter leaned forward, gritting her teeth as a jolt of pain shoot up her side. "Then why did you give us the second key?"
"I wanted to help," Meredith revealed, causing Carter to raise a brow. She wanted to help last night, but now she doesn't? Did something happen to make her change her mind so suddenly? "That's what I want to do. I want to help."
"Great!" Raeven exclaimed in slight agitation. Jordan looked over at the girl, wondering how she could look exactly like Carter and be so different. He didn't know if it was from the connection between him and Carter or if it was something else, but even if Raeven didn't have those pink streaks in her hair—he would still be able to tell them apart with ease. "So help us now. Give us the third cipher key."
With a grimace, Meredith shook her head. "Things have changed. I—I can't."
"Why not?" Stiles pressed, trying his hardest to ignore the fact that his left hand was covered in Carter blood; feeling her muscles trembling beneath his palm as he continued to apply pressure to the wound. Every so often she would squeeze her eyes shut or grab onto his shirt tightly. And all he wanted to do was to be able to take her pain without giving it right back to her—but pain was what defined Carter—what shaped her to be who she was.
"Guys," Jordan called, causing all eyes to fall on him. "Go easy on her."
Carter looked down at the floor for a moment—ashamed before pulling her eyes back toward Meredith, the Banshee continuing to shake her head. "I'm sorry. I can't. He—He—He doesn't want me to."
There it was. The one little slip up they needed to wedge their way in.
Leaning closer, Carter asked: "He? Who's he?"
To her left, Raeven demanded: "Who doesn't want you to tell us the third cipher key?"
Meredith's eyes were wide and bloodshot with tears glistening in them. "The Benefactor."
Carter shot up onto her feet, ignoring the searing pain in her side as the large object is Scott's side was removed—the blood began to flow freely, staining the front of her shirt and the top of her jeans. But at that point, she hadn't cared. "What's his name?"
Meredith knew a lot more than they had originally expected. More than just the three cipher keys. She knew who the Benefactor was—the person who was running the entire operation. If they could pry the name out of Meredith, they could possibly put an end to the deadpool permanently. But only if Meredith was willing to give up that single piece of vital information. Only then would they be able to end this thing, once and for all.
"If you could just tell us his name."
Meredith shook her head.
Stiles watched Carter warily as she began to pace, blood beginning to drip onto the floor the more she walked. "Okay, you're shaking your head. What's that mean? Does that mean you don't know? Or you don't want to help us?"
"I—I can't..." Meredith stammered, Carter could hear her pounding heart as she shook her head back and forth. "I can't help anymore."
Carter rolled her eyes, nostrils flaring in anger. "How do you know about him?"
It was evident that Meredith knew who the Benefactor was and was refusing to tell them—obvious in how her entire body seemed to be shaking and how she just dodged the questions thrown at her. Her muscles were trembling feverishly beneath her skin as she continued to shake her head, repeatedly saying that she couldn't help.
Jordan stepped forward, realizing that they were pushing Meredith too far. "Guys, I think we better stop."
The brunette ignored Jordan, taking a threatening step toward Meredith, sneering as she felt the fire in her chest rise to her face—fueling her anger. "Meredith, a shit-ton of people are going to die—including me and my friends—if you don't tell us who he is! Am I speaking French, or do you just simply not care?"
"I don't...I don't know."
"Meredith, what's his name?" Carter roared, her voice rising as Meredith began to feel more and more threatened by her. But the brunette didn't care. She was desperate to get the answer. She wasn't worried about saving herself, but saving her friends.
"I don't know," Meredith mumbled, swaying back and forth violently. "I don't know. Please...no."
"Meredith," Jordan called out gently. "It's okay. You're gonna be all right."
Carter had taken a few steps back, her eyes wide as she watched the Banshee thrash around on the bed she was sitting on. She was blubbering like a maniac—continuously rambling on about how she didn't know. But the thing that got under Carter's skin the most, was the fact that she did know. He had told her not to help them, she had to have seen him or heard his voice as some point.
"I don't...I don't...I don't know—" Her hands were flying out every which way.
"Meredith," Parrish soothed, trying to calm her down, but it was already too late. They had already pushed her too far, and there was now coming back.
"I said, I don't KNOW!"
The frequency and ferocity of Meredith's cry smacked Carter in the chest like a semi. She clamped her hands over her ears, feeling a warm liquid ooze out of her ears as she let out a chorus of screams of her own. Her abilities amplified the intensity, turning the volume up to a whole other level. She went stumbling back and Stiles' shot up just in time for the girl to fall into his chest, watching as a look of unadulterated pain crossed the brunette's face.
Carter continued to scream—wailing until the ringing in her head caused by Meredith had faded. Her hands were still clamped over her ears, beginning to let out muffled whimpers as she slowly pulled her hands away to reveal a steady stream of blood going out of her ears. Raeven was up on her feet as well, standing beside Carter as Stiles cast dirty glares in Meredith's direction.
And despite all of the pain she experienced while sitting in that little room, they still had yet to retrieve the two answers they desired.
○ ○ ○
"Okay, well, we know one thing. Both of the first two keys, Allison and Aiden, they're both names of the dead. Right?"
The three of them found themselves in Stiles' room after having a very unpleased Jordan Parrish drive that back to the Sheriff's station. They had pushed Meredith to the brink that time—finally sending her off the rails. But, for some strange reason, Carter didn't feel guilt. Not in the slightest. She truly believed that her actions were justified—she had a reason to act the way she did. There was a deadpool being sent out with her and her friends' names on it.
And with the price on her head being the largest, she was terrified and willing to do anything to stop it.
Carter was stationed in front of Lydia's laptop at Stiles' desk with Raeven perked on the bed as Stiles steadily began to pace. They were trying to figure out the last cipher key on their own, seeing as though Meredith hadn't been willing to help.
Carter sighed, rubbing the spot just below her eyebrow in frustration. "But we've already tried every other dead person's name we could think of."
"Which was a lot, by the way," Raeven announced. "If you hadn't noticed."
"Yeah, I noticed," Stiles replied, but soon took notice of the distraught expression plastered on Carter's face causing him to stop his pacing. "Car, are you okay?"
She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, unsure of what to say. "The only other Banshee Lydia had ever met—the only person that could have at least helped her understand her abilities—and I think I just drove her over the edge."
"Carter, it wasn't your fault," Stiles reminded, his heart breaking at the sadness in her voice. He knew that she understood more than anyone how hard it was to understand and figure out the abilities of a creature no one really knew much about. She felt for Lydia and that's the only reason she felt regret. Not for what they did to Meredith, but for Lydia. "Raeven and I were there, too. And Lydia's probably not the only...hold on."
Carter looked away from the laptop to glance toward Stiles, shooting him a questioning look. It seemed as though a sort of realization had hit him—realizing something that they should've noticed before—something that could help them figure out the third cipher key.
"Banshees predict death, all right? So what if the third key is someone who isn't dead..."
"But will be." Raeven breathed out, shooting up from her spot on Stiles' bed and making her way over toward Carter.
The two crowded around Carter, eyes plastered on the box next to the demand that read: KEY WORD. The brunette shook her head, looking up at the two of them. "But I'm not a Banshee, that's Lydia's territory. Not mine."
Raeven bent down so that she was eye level with her doppelgänger. "Pheanixs are like Banshees, Carter. They just have a more narrowed spectrum. Where Banshees can hear up to an entire city's death rate, Pheanixs can only focus on the people they're connected to. And this deadpool seems to be built around the dynamics of your pack, so it has to be someone you're close to."
Carter nodded, knowing that everything Raeven had said was correct. She clamped her eyes shut, trying to focus on the feeling of death—a feeling she had locked away ever since Allison died. But she was willing to up on the box of death if it meant it would unlock the last part of the deadpool. She was searching for a name. A name of someone she was close to, who was nearing their death.
Slowly, she placed the tips of her fingers along the keys, allowing them to finally tap a letter. The first letter was: D, but she continued. She was allowing the feeling of the person control her actions—it was the same feeling she got when that person got hurt—it was a telling feature that would let her know who had gotten injured. The next letter was an E, she continued to type, the joyous feeling swelling through her veins until she had typed out five letters.
DEREK
A strangled whine let her lips as she stared down at the name, anxiously hitting the ENTER key, the three of them watching as the code faded away into the third set of the deadpool. Four names had Carter's heart stopping and clenching in her chest.
MALIA HALE: 4
LIAM DUNBAR: 3
LOGAN DUNBAR: 30
MEREDITH WALKER: 1
Liam and Logan were both on the deadpool. She didn't know how to feel—her emotions were jumbled. She had just predicted her own brother's death, now Liam and Logan, only just being bitten and turned, were on the deadpool. She had the sudden urge to scream mixing with the need to throw up. She wanted to grab the laptop and throw it out the window. What frightened her even more was the fact that Logan had the second highest price on the deadpool, twenty million dollars smaller than hers. She never wanted this for Logan, just as Scott nevered wanted it for Liam—all they wanted to do was save their lives.
Not destroy them.
"Call Parrish—we need to call Parrish."
After unlocking the last part of the list, Carter was seated on the floor of Scott's bedroom wearing only a tank-top and shorts—the sudden on set of emotions at Stiles' house had brought forth the burning heat waves. She was seated between Stiles and Scott, in the middle was Garrett's duffle bag. All of the money they had gotten from the deadpool was just sitting there, staring them in the face.
It was also after they had called Parrish, Carter telling the man that Meredith was on the hit list and that she needed to be protected. But he only replied saying that "she was gone" meaning that they had truly pushed Meredith to her edge. The Banshee finally snapping and taking her own life. The news of her suicide hung around Carter like a thick blanket, knowing that it was all her fault. Stiles and Raeven had tried to take some of the blame off her, but in the end, she had been the one that pushed her too far.
"You counted it yet?" Stiles asked, looking up from the money to meet Scott's eyes.
The True Alpha shook his head, "No."
"We should probably count it."
The three of them shared a look before they simultaneously shoved their hands into the stacks of money, beginning to sort it all out after they poured it onto the floor. The pile of money in front of them wasn't even close to being a million dollars, the severity of their situation hitting Carter and Scott—finally realizing how much they were worth.
Whoever the Benefactor was, they really wanted them dead.
The brunette gaze at the money, her brows knitting together when she spotted something that wasn't crisp and green among the stack. It was a clear cassette tape. The girl leaned forward, plucking it out of the stack and flipped it over to look at the front. Scribbled on it were the words: PLAY ME.
After finally finding a cassette player, they popped the tape in. They knew that it must've been important to the deadpool—if it hadn't been, then it wouldn't have been mixed in with the money in the first place.
"After entering the IP address, you will be connected through a Darknet portal to an untraceable bank. Once logged in, enter your account number to receive wire transfers. The IP address will deactivate with each transfer. You will be assigned a new IP address if you choose to continue down the list. Remember, visual confirmation is always required for payment."
Once the cassette finished, Stiles pressed the stop button before glancing between Carter and Scott. "Either of you ever make a wire transfer?"
Scott shrugged, "Never had enough money."
"I never deal with banks," Carter admitted. "When I was on the run a few years after the fire, I just picked up money from the vaults we have throughout the country. I used cash, because almost anything other than that is traceable."
"So, what you're saying is, that you didn't understand a word of that either?"
"Pretty much, yeah."
"I don't understand any of this," Scott voiced, gesturing toward the money in front of them. "Why would someone use all this money just to kill us?"
"Someone who wants you, Logan, and Carter dead." Stiles murmured. "Badly."
Scott sighed and shook his head, unable to fathom the idea of what was really happening. It was evidence of pure insanity; not being able to wrap his head around why someone is so determined to kill off all of the supernatural creatures in Beacon Hills. Nobody deserves to have a price hanging over their head. Not even Carter.
After pondering over his thoughts, Scott began to pile the stacks back into the duffel bag, Stiles' eyes widening. "Whoa, whoa, what are you doing?"
"It's late," Scott said simply, stuffing the money back inside the bag. "We've got the PSATs in the morning."
Carter face-palmed before burying her head in her hands. "Ugh, you just had to remind me."
"No," Stiles responded, pointing toward the money. "I meant the money. Five hundred thousand dollars. You know how much money that is?"
"It's five hundred thousand..."
"It's half a million dollars, Scott," Stiles pointed out. "What are you going to do, just slide it under your mattress?"
Confused, Scott explained: "I have to talk to Derek. The money's his."
"No, it's Peter's." Carter corrected, knowing very well that none of the that was stolen from the vault to create the deadpool was hers or Derek's.
"What does that mean?" Scott questioned, furrowing his brows.
"It means that maybe we should proceed with caution."
"You don't think we should tell Derek?"
"I mean, it's still Peter's money. And I wouldn't trust Peter with one dollar, let alone, half million and he's my uncle." Carter announced, not even bothering to hide her distaste toward Peter. He may have been her mother's brother, but he would never be her family.
"No," Stiles immediately shook his head, shooting up off the ground and onto his feet. "No, of course we have to tell him. I'm just...I'm just saying, that money's Peter's, right?"
"Yes," Carter breathed, beginning to fan herself with her hand as another surge of heat coursed through her chest.
"Right?" Stiles repeated. "Peter. Homicidal killer? Remember? You want to give half a million dollars to him?"
"So we should give Derek his money back. But not Peter?"
"I didn't say that," Stiles defended, but Carter knew that it was what he was thinking. She knew that the money, rather than giving it back to Peter, could save him and Scott from the debt that was beginning to swallow their families.
"Babe, what are you saying?"
Stiles was silent, shifting uncomfortably as he looked down at Carter. He didn't know how to put the words together on what he wanted to say without it sounding deceitful. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by the sound of footsteps. The three of them looked at the door for a moment before Scott quickly shoved the duffel bag under his bed just as a soaking wet Malia appeared in the doorway.
"We found Satomi's pack," Malia announced as Scott and Carter scrambled to their feet. "Derek and I, but they're dead."
"All of them?"
Malia nodded, "All the ones we found."
Fear coursing through her veins, Carter asked: "Where's my brother?"
After Malia had explained that Derek was rushing an injured Braeden to the hospital—a gunshot wound to her abdomen—the Werecoyote left the McCall residence just as quickly as she came. With Stiles and Carter following out after her, the brunette needing a ride back to her apartment seeing as though she hadn't driven her car when they went to the station that morning.
The rain had gotten worse by the time Stiles' jeep pulled into the parking lot of Carter's apartment complex. The couple laughing heartily as they ran through the ran—Stiles slipping and falling into the mud when he stepped into the slippery grass. That caused Carter to laugh even hard as she jogged over to him, extending her hand out to him in order to help him back to his feet. When he wrapped his hand around hers, she expected him to pull himself up—she didn't expect him to use his weight against her. Which resulted in her falling down in the mud beside him.
She could feel the mud getting caked onto her exposed and hot skin. Gathering in the cleavage exposed by her tank-top, covering her arms and legs and splattering across her cheeks. Now it was Stiles' turn to laugh as she got covered in mud causing her to smack his chest before she rolled on top of him—straddling his hips with her legs as the ran continued to pour down on them.
She could hear the pounding of his heart, listening to it lurch and jump as she brought herself closer to him. Rolling her body against his, her chest now pressing against his. Stiles' golden eyes surveyed the beauty of her face, seeing the large grin on her lips when the lightning in the sky lit her face for a split second. She made him nervous—and he knew that she was aware of that—but, he gulped past it and quickly shot forward, pressing his lips against hers. His hands made their way to her back before gradually sliding down up they were cupping her butt.
Carter responded immediately and found herself smiling into it, her heart swelling as his lips moved along with hers. Everything about Stiles made her happy—she couldn't tell if it was because she was a Pheanix and he was her Ideale Altro, but the longer his lips moved against hers, she found herself caring less and less. He always had this ability to make her forget the bad things—just seeing him smile had her ignoring their problems for a sheer moment of happiness.
It was euphoric feeling.
And reluctantly, she broke the kiss, smiling down at him. Leaning into his hand when he moved it forward to push some of the wet hair out of her face. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Stiles nodded, not being able to take his eyes off her. "Do you want me to pick you up?"
"Yeah, that'd be nice."
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my poor bby Carter, she is constantly in pain and i am such a horrible person. and i know that Lydia was the one that visited Meredith and discovered that Derek was the last cipher key, but i just thought it was more symbolic to have Carter predict her own brother's death...make it more dramatic.
Logan Dunbar is finally on the deadpool and is worth a whopping thirty million. The Benefactor definitely knows what's up with him; knowing what kind of werewolf he is. but *pouts* there wasn't any Logan in this chapter, there just wasn't a place to put him.
BUT HOW ABOUT THAT STARTER KISS?!?!? THEYRE SO EFFIN CUTE!!!