Once Matt was passed off to the paramedics and assessed in another room of Beacon Hills Hospital, Allison and I went to recharge by the coffee machine. We texted our parents to inform them of our location, but I assumed they already knew as much thanks to the security cameras that had recorded the library disaster and expensive school damage.
As coffee gurgled into my paper cup, Dad walked up behind us and left me feeling especially grateful it wasn't Gerard.
"Girls," he acknowledged us briefly. "You did the right thing bringing Matt here, but we should head out. The doctors can handle it now."
I snapped a lid onto my cup and slid it through a cardboard sleeve. Having already downed her serving, Allison tossed her garbage into the nearest bin and began shuffling in the direction of the elevators.
The three of us stepped inside the empty lift and remained silent until the metal doors slid closed. However, instead of pressing the button that would bring us down to the parking level as planned, I watched Dad press a higher number firmly.
"However, before we go," Dad informed us, removing his finger and staring at the illuminated floor level. "I have something else to show you."
I had wondered if we were going to be lucky enough to escape any lecturing or lessons for the evening, but our father's actions and the hard look on his face suggested otherwise. First to step from the elevator, Dad led the way down the hall as Allison and I hesitantly followed while attached at the hip. I attempted to ignore the stale stench of death that was present on the particular hospital floor or the severe absence of visitors.
Stealthily, Dad produced a small laminated card from his jacket sleeve and pressed it against a keypad situated on a large metal door frame which made me wonder where he had snagged an access key to the morgue in the first place. After a small click was heard, he proceeded to push the door open and usher us inside.
My eyes fell on two figures laying on sterilized surfaces, covered in sand-coloured tarps. Grimacing, I set my gaze to my shoes.
"This one: Sean," Dad read from the small cardstock label hanging from one of the bodies. "Sean was killed by this thing Gerard says is a kind of shape-shifter. It hasn't been around for centuries."
"The thing you shot outside the club the other night," Allison spoke.
Dad studied her carefully and glanced at me, but I kept avoiding eye contact by choosing to stare at random objects around the room that weren't the bodies of dead people.
"South American legend we know of calls it the kanima," he continued. Walking around the tables, he pointed at the second figure. "This one: Jessica. While her husband was murdered outside of their mobile home parked somewhere in the preserve, she was later smothered to death after giving birth-"
Allison darted her attention towards me at the confirmation of a death in the forest involving a live-in trailer, making that yet another attack I had somehow predicted. Dad kept staring at the both of us and I took a gulp of coffee, wiping my other palm nervously against my jeans.
"The police think it was done by someone else. We think it's the person who's controlling this other shapeshifter. That means two killers. One human. One not."
He paused as if waiting for us to speak up, but Allison remained quiet and I kept drinking until every drop was drained from my cup.
"You know, the question I had after Gerard first told me about our family was 'Why us?'" Dad sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. "In response, he quoted me Winston Churchill. 'The price of greatness is responsibility'. Personally, I think it's more about knowledge."
With each of his next words, he rounded the tables and stepped closer towards us.
"What we know, the truth, and what we know about the world. That makes us responsible for a young couple, their newborn daughter, or anyone who doesn't have the power to defend themselves. Are you starting to get it?"
"I get that this isn't a lecture, it's an interrogation," Allison quipped.
"That depends on what you know."
I looked up from the floor. "We only know as much as you've told us."
"Gerard showed me the library. Cameras didn't catch everything, but do you two really think a little high school fight can explain that amount of damage?" Dad's voice grew stronger. "We know you're trying to protect your friends, but people are dying. A child was orphaned. What you know makes you responsible. It makes you responsible for this-"
With a swift motion, our father reached for the edge of one of the tarps and ripped it off of the body it was covering. After one millisecond of seeing pale, gray-tinted skin, I clenched my jaw and turned away.
"What do you expect us to tell you?" Allison muttered.
"Anything you know. Anything that can lead us to answering the one question that might mean everything: Who controls the kanima?"
"We don't know," I snapped. "Wouldn't all of this be over if we did?"
"All we know is who the kanima is," Allison mumbled and I stared at her with wide eyes. I remembered our discussion in the forest when Jackson escaped of how we all needed to tell our parents or any adults who could help. And I understood that we were dealing with a homicidal pairing that couldn't exactly be stopped by a couple of teenagers, but the paranoid part of my mind still wanted to keep everything from Gerard. If we told our father, things would no doubt come around to him. Unfortunately, Allison was already stuttering out a name. "It's Jackson Whittemore."
Letting out a heavy sigh, Dad went to recover the body he had exposed and I noticed his expression had failed to change or react.
"You don't seem surprised." I pointed out, trying to maintain my composure.
He shook his head. "Your mother, Gerard, and I have been on this case for a while. We've already had our suspicions."
"Then can we go?" I asked, pressing further away from the dead victims and heading for the door. The thought of them lying there had become agonizing. "Since we don't have any more information, aren't we done here?"
"We are far from done," Dad stated. "I appreciate this information, but just because you don't know anything else yet does not mean I will not need to know in the future. We are all on the same team here. The moment you find anything, you report back to the family."
"We get it. We're responsible for all of this," my sister motioned at the bodies. "And we're also responsible for passing our last midterm exam tomorrow, which requires more than four hours of sleep. Are we dismissed?"
Dad furrowed his eyebrows at her brazen remark before stomping over to the door and opening the latch. "Go. I'll meet you in the car."
Allison huffed and headed for the elevators, leaving me to rush after her.
No matter how many breaths of the night air I gulped in on our drive home as the evening inched into early morning, I couldn't escape the stench of air from the morgue which served as a reminder for all of the deaths we couldn't prevent and all of the murders bound to blindside us in the near future.
The next day, I was wandering into lunch hour when I caught Stiles sitting at one of the outdoor tables in the courtyard. I had finally finished all of my exams for the term and hardly knew what to do with myself. There was a nagging feeling in my gut that suggested it hadn't gone too well, but at least it was over and as the rest of the student body partied for a week, all I had left to worry about were kanima matters.
Checking over my shoulders, I confirmed that there weren't many cameras situated outside - not yet anyway - before choosing my direction and dropping my stuff next to the boy who was studying something.
"What are you reading? Aren't all of your exams over?"
At the sound of my voice, Stiles' head snapped up to look at me while he simultaneously shut the manila folder lying on the table.
"Yeah, I was just trying to figure some stuff out."
I pointed towards the large red word stamped in ink on the edge of the file, along with the Beacon Hills Sheriff's Department logo situated next to it, and quirked an eyebrow. "Classified?"
Stiles' cheeks beet red as he shrugged. "I may or may not have taken some files from my dad's office to read over. But I am the Sheriff's son and he had already told me information about the kanima case anyway so I'm sure it's fine."
"What'd he tell you?"
"Turns out there's a pattern among the victims," the boy explained, dragging the folder open again and laying out a few reports. "All except Mr. Lahey were killed at the age of twenty four."
"Couldn't that just be a coincidence?" I asked.
"Well, my dad always says one's an incident, two's a coincidence, three's a pattern. The mechanic, the husband, and the wife were all twenty four. Not to mention Isaac's older brother named Camden who died in combat, but would've been twenty four if he were alive today."
"Okay, so what does this mean?"
"I sort of put together that it could mean they were all in the same class," Stiles tilted his head at another book stacked with his regular binders at the edge of the table. The spine labeled it as a yearbook from several years ago. "Turns out they all went to Beacon Hills. Class of 2006."
My eyebrows shot up. "Could they have been friends?"
"That, and they were all in Harris' chemistry class together."
"Harris?" I asked in disbelief. Suddenly, a shiver went down my spine as I considered how the information about the teacher I despised correlated to what we were looking for. "Wait, do you think he has anything to do with the murders? Could he really be the one controlling Jackson?"
Stiles mirrored my anxious expression. "Well, we've got a list of names for the 2006 Chemistry class and if another attack happens on another one of his old students, I guess we'll know for sure."
"So we just sit and wait for another death?" I shifted uncomfortably.
"Hopefully not," Stiles sighed. "We learned that Jackson's going to be at the rave in the Warehouse District tonight. And if Jackson's there, the master probably won't be far behind."
Nodding, I rested my elbows on the table. "My dad showed Allison and I the two victims from the forest last night. One was murdered outside of his trailer while his wife was suffocated to death after having her baby."
"His trailer?" Stiles specified, looking at me hesitantly.
"Yeah," I mumbled and stared at my hands. "My dad also made it clear that there are two killers we're after. Jackson who killed the husband, and his master who killed the wife."
"Scott found out about that," the boy nodded glumly. "He thinks the kanima wasn't able to kill the woman back in the woods like her husband because she was pregnant and it was too similar to Jackson's own situation or it broke some of the kanima rules since the baby wasn't a murderer. Either way, the one controlling him had to finish the job because the kanima didn't follow through. So we think that the next time he's set to kill someone, the master will hang around too just to make sure it gets done."
"So this could all happen at the rave?"
"Possibly," he shrugged. "Some party."
"Are you going?"
"Well we all should go. Seems like everyone's going to be there. Jackson, his master, probably Derek, Isaac, Erica, Boyd, Allison and Matt, Scott-"
"My dad, Gerard, their henchman, or even my mom might show up," I continued the list for him, figuring that if there was going to be a showdown the Argent family would definitely make an appearance.
Stiles' eyes widened. "Do they know about everything?"
"Allison and I only managed to tell them that it's Jackson. Although, they probably know more than they're letting on. My dad didn't even seem that surprised when we told him who the kanima was," I explained. "But I don't think they know who's controlling him either. Dad was desperate for information and the only reason he got anything out of us was because he kept repeating the fact that 'With great power comes great responsibility'."
"Isn't that from Spider-man?"
"Yeah, I guess it wasn't exactly that, since he said it was from the words of Winston Churchill. But it was along those lines," I chuckled. "Wait, why did you say Allison and Matt together?"
"Oh, well they're going as dates apparently. Something to throw your mom off of Scott's scent. You didn't know?"
I shook my head in embarrassment about how little I seemed to know about my own sister. "No. I mean, Allison and I haven't gotten much of a chance to talk about that kind of thing recently, but no. I wonder why Matt of all people? He kind of creeps me out."
As I recalled the numerous odd encounters with the boy with the camera and the way he stared, Stiles slammed his hand on the table.
"Yes! Thank you!" he exclaimed. "I hate that guy."
Laughing at his sudden enthusiasm, I watched Stiles dig for something in his bag before producing a small piece of paper.
"Your ticket," he offered with a grin. "You can be my date."
I simply stared at him and he began sputtering.
"Date, like, partner. I mean detective partner. You've already seen the classified files. We'll have investigative jobs to do too, so it's not like we'll have to dance together or anything. B-But I mean, if that happened, we could-"
Snatching the ticket from his hands to shut him up, I smirked. "It's a date."
"Cool," Stiles smiled back and nodded sharply, a comfortable moment of silence falling on the two of us. After a few heartbeats, Stiles began shuffling his papers together and restocking his backpack. "I don't know if you can get away from your family, but Scott and I are going to visit his boss after school to go over our game plan. You should come to, unless you have to follow the Argent game plan."
"I'm probably supposed to follow my family's plan, but that might involve killing Jackson and I want to be on the team that plans on saving him, even if he is a pretentious asshole. I'll come. I'll have to work out the role of double agent with my sister, but I'll come."
I stood up to leave, a giddy light-headed feeling filling my brain as I thought about being Stiles' detective partner.
"Hold on," I paused and turned back to face him. "Why Scott's boss? Isn't he just a veterinarian?"
"Oh, no. Apparently he's much, much more."
After negotiating plans with my sister and my excuse for possibly being late to our family's strategic meeting later that evening, I hitched a ride with Stiles and headed in the direction of the Beacon Hills Animal Clinic.
Having met us there, Scott unlocked the employee entrance for us and we made our way into one of the back offices where Deaton, the man in charge, was already waiting with racks of canisters and supplies. Where my family's meetings included weapons laid out on the walls and tables, the vet's meeting had bottles of prescriptions and unnamed powders.
"Come in, we have a lot to get through," Deaton ushered us forward. When his eyes fell on me, he straightened up. "Nice to meet you, Miss Argent. I've heard much about you-"
I squirmed uncomfortably and he noticed my uneasy expression, quickly justifying himself.
"-I have ears in some places. Not as much as your family does, I'm sure, but I manage to keep up to date in what goes on in this town. All I've heard are good things, don't worry."
Taking a breath, he reached for the first items on the counter. I watched as he held up a small vial of medication along with what looked like a handheld needle device.
"Ketamine?" Scott asked.
"It's the same stuff we use on the dogs just a higher dosage. If you can get close enough to Jackson, it should slow him down enough to buy you some time," Deaton nodded. Leaning forward, he placed the needle and ketamine in front of Scott. Next, he selected a bigger container of black dust and held it up. "We've learned that what affects the kanima will also affect its master. So, you will use this to create a barrier. This part is for you two, Stiles and Eleanor."
"That sounds like a lot of pressure. Could we maybe get a less pressure filled task?"
The vet ignored Stiles' complaints and continued to explain. "It's from the Mountain Ash tree, which is believed by many cultures to protect against the supernatural. This office is lined with ash wood, making it difficult for someone like Scott to cause me any trouble."
I shifted my weight nervously. "So we just spread this around the building and Jackson or the person controlling him can't cross it?"
Deaton nodded. "They'll be trapped."
"Doesn't sound too hard," Scott offered encouragingly.
"Well that's not all there is to it," the vet countered. "Think of it like gunpowder. It's just powder until a spark ignites it. You two need to be that spark."
"If you mean light ourselves on fire, I don't think I'm up for that," Stiles muttered from beside me.
"Let me try a different analogy. I used to golf. I learned that the best golfers never swing before first imagining where they want the ball to go. They see it in their mind and their mind takes over. Stiles, with your force of will and, Eleanor, your powerful mind, it can be pretty extraordinary what you two can accomplish."
"I don't think I got a single 'A' on any of my work this semester," I bit my lip. "I'm not exactly sure how powerful my mind really is."
"A mind is more than just factual knowledge or what you're taught in a classroom, Miss Argent."
Confused, I squinted at the vet's words while Stiles also tried to come to terms with our task from beside me.
"Force of will," he echoed.
"A lot of what I do relies on bonds and beliefs. In order for this to work, you two must believe it together."
Deaton looked between us hopefully and I inhaled.
"Okay," I reached for the container of ash. "We can do it."
The vet smiled. "Good, but you are going to need a lot more than that."
Turning around to dig through one of his lower shelves, he emerged with a full garbage bag tied with a knot. It slouched on the counter as Deaton shoved it towards us.
"There we go. That should do it."
By the time I had jogged home from where Stiles had dropped me off a couple blocks from my house, I caused an interruption in the team meeting as the sounds of my shoes against the stairs down to the basement brought on a wave of silence between Gerard, Mom, Dad, and around ten other men in leather jackets with rifles strapped to their backs.
Avoiding Gerard's glare, I tried to shrink myself as much as possible while I took a seat next to Allison on one of the bottom steps.
"Punctuality is important in this business," my grandfather grumbled at me before popping numerous pills into his mouth and swallowing them dry.
Ignoring Gerard, I heard Dad clear his throat before crossing his arms in front of him and addressing the whole room.
"Alright, the party's in a warehouse just inside the industrial sector. The girls have learned that Jackson Whittemore will be there seeking his next target out of the crowd. Since we still have little clue as to just how strong he is, we need to be extremely cautious. When the twins have Jackson's location and have determined him to be at the optimal point where we can take him down, either Allison or Eleanor will signal me. -"
I glanced over at my sister and she nodded subtly, encouraging me to play along.
"- 'Optimal' meaning as far away from the crowd as possible. There will be no collateral damage tonight."
He looked at everyone sternly before turning to face Allison and I. Motioning up the stairs, he dismissed us. "Go ahead."
Without hesitating, I stood up and moved quickly out of the basement which had successfully transformed into some kind of lair instead of the place where we stored our collection of moving boxes that never seemed to get unpacked.
"Stiles told me you're going with Matt," I spoke.
Grabbing her bag, she turned to face me. "Yeah, I'm not sure why but I somehow agreed to go with him before we got detention. I think I was too focused on finding Jackson that it didn't even register. Anyway, it works out as a way to convince Mom that Scott and I aren't seeing each other. Apparently she's more on to us than we thought."
"Right," I nodded. "Just... you aren't weirded out by him at all?"
"Matt?"
"Yes. I don't know, I just get an odd vibe from him with the way he stares and is always taking pictures of everyone."
"Isn't he part of the yearbook committee?" my sister suggested.
"I guess so."
"I promise I'll be safe," she smiled at me. "Besides, I should be telling you to be careful. Ellie, I don't know how much Gerard believed when I told them about your reason for being late."
"I know, I'm sorry to put you in that position, but we have a plan. If it all works out, we'll save Jackson."
"I hope so," Allison whispered. We were cut off with the sound of a car pulling up in our driveway. "Look, that's probably Matt. Don't do anything too dangerous. Especially without any weapons on you since the bouncer would probably take them. If I follow Dad's orders and lookout inside the rave for Jackson, you can do whatever you need with Stiles or Scott. Text me if anything goes wrong or how the plan works."
Following her out of the house, I promised. "I will."
After watching her wave at me and drive off in Matt's car, I took a seat behind my own steering wheel and tailed them. However, when Matt turned to park in the front with the majority of other party-goers, I rolled around to the back of the building and stopped beside a familiar blue jeep.
Hopping out of my car, I walked over to greet the boy fumbling with the garbage bag in his trunk.
"Hi."
"Hey," he replied back, but his tone was flat and he wouldn't look me in the eye.
Silently, I helped him secure the top of the bag in order to rip a draining hole in one of the bottom corners. However, the atmosphere was unusual and I couldn't help but worry at Stiles' expression and posture.
"Is everything alright?" I asked lightly.
"Yeah. Fine."
My jaw tightened at his dismissive tone and waited a few moments before trying again, unable to escape the feeling that something wasn't right. His whole attitude had changed since the last time I had seen him.
"Stiles, are you okay? I can tell something's bothering you."
He didn't answer.
"Look, I get it if you don't want to talk about it," I mumbled, knowing all too well what that felt like. "Maybe it's none of my business but since you are always there to listen to me, I thought I could return the favour."
After a few heartbeats, I thought I would only get silence as a reply again until he finally spoke up; his voice broken.
"My dad was fired today."
I looked at him incredulously. "What?"
"They fired him because of me."
"Not because of you," I whispered, reaching for his arm.
"Yes, El, because of me!" He snapped and grabbed the garbage bag before slamming his trunk shut. "I've been too busy messing around trying to actually help someone for once instead of being dumb, useless Stiles like always that I ended up hurting one of the people I love most without even noticing until it was too late."
After letting out his burst of emotion, he fell quiet again as his chest heaved up and down in recovery. He glanced down at my hand on his arm before tilting his head to the pavement and shutting his eyes.
I breathed, moving closer to him and shifting my hand on his arm to link with my other hand at the nape of his neck. Under my embrace, he stiffened for a second before letting out a sigh and letting his hands fall around my waist.
"I'm sorry," I mumbled.
He spoke back against the side of my hair and I could feel the vibrations of his words against his chest. "You shouldn't be sorry. You didn't do anything."
"Neither did you," I breathed. "You were just trying to help and eventually, when we get all of this sorted out, your dad will realize that. You guys are gonna be okay."
We stood linked together for another handful of seconds that seemed to stretch longer than usual.
"And please never call yourself any of those things ever again," I added. "You're nowhere near useless or dumb, alright? Not to me."
"Eleanor?"
"Yeah?"
"Your hair smells like coconuts," he observed and I could feel him smiling.
Letting out a loud laugh, I leaned back from our hug to look him in the eyes. "Anything else?"
His eyes scanned mine, and for a moment it felt like he was about to say something else until he stepped back and shook his head. "No, it's nothing. We need to get to spreading this mountain ash before a homicidal rich kid escapes under our watch."
"Right," I nodded and watched Stiles reach for the bag, ripping free the corner and holding his hand over the opening.
"Ready to believe?" he asked.
"Lead the way."
After taking a deep breath, Stiles let his hand fall and allowed a steady stream of mountain ash to fall onto the pavement.
"Here," he shifted his grip so that I could hold the top knot of the bag and he was free to support the bottom of the bag and guide the ash in our desired direction. "We've gotta do this together. Whatever Deaton said, your powerful mind-"
"And your force of will," I nodded.
By the rate we began moving, it wasn't long until we had trekked all the way around the building; having left a thin trail of dark powder behind us. After all of our work, I desperately hoped we had sparked it.
Rounding our last corner, we moved closer to our cars, but panic began to rise in my chest when I could feel the contents of the bag grow lighter and lighter with each step.
"Um, Eleanor?" Stiles croaked and I glanced down at him. We had stopped in our tracks with the final amounts of ash resting in the boy's palm - a measly handful with plenty of yards to go. We didn't have enough.
I cursed under my breath and began to shake out the bag as much as I could with hopes that we could squeeze more out of it, but it was empty.
"No, no, no, no," I groaned. "No! We're so close. How could we get this far and not finish it?"
"I know! What are we supposed to do? This'll only last another few feet."
Suddenly, a series of loud bangs echoed from somewhere uncomfortably close between the collection of warehouses.
"Okay, what the hell was that?" Stiles gulped, running his ash-free hand over his head anxiously
"My family's here," I muttered.
Consequently, we stood in a heavy silence and strained to hear the growls of wolves reverberate off of the metal and concrete structures.
"And apparently so is Derek."
"Call Scott," I instructed. "Maybe he could help or-"
Another loud bang, and an even louder roar.
"Okay, okay," Stiles nodded rapidly. "I'm calling him."
After fumbling with his cellphone, we waited impatiently to hear Scott's voice from the other end of the line. Unfortunately, the call didn't go through.
"Scott, pick up. Pick up now! Look, we've got maybe fifty feet more to go and we're all out of ash, okay?" Stiles spoke into his best friend's voicemail with urgency. "So you've gotta get your werewolf ass down here to help us because we don't know what to do. We're hearing gunfire and werewolves and all we have is a handful of magic fairy dust. And it's not enough, alright?"
With that, he hung up the phone and buried it back in his pocket.
"He's not coming, is he?"
Stiles fidgeted. "Not by the looks of it, no. Does your powerful mind have any ideas?"
"Well, okay, let's just think about what Deaton said. He said you have to picture it and believe it," I stated, turning towards our path ahead and trying to imagine the two ends meeting.
"Just believe it," Stiles echoed before linking his free hand with mine. "Just imagine and believe it. Together."
"Believe, Stiles," I whispered as we began to slowly move forward.
He gripped my hand tighter and shut his eyes beside me as little by little dust began to trickle down from his fist. My heart beat furiously against my rib cage as we walked, desperately hoping we could pull it off.
After a few moments, Stiles halted in his steps and his grip fell slack. "I'm all out of ash."
Out of the corner of my eye, I realized we had just passed our cars and there was no way we had made it all the way to connect the points.
Looking down, I expected to see the weak end of our path and the large gap of pavement ahead of us that would prevent our trap from working. I expected the whole plan to fall a part because we hadn't done it.
However, as my eyes took in the sight of a strong black line trailing past our feet, around the bend, and joining us from the other side, I was proven wrong.
"Oh my God," I breathed, pure relief and happiness filling my lungs. "Oh my GOD! Stiles, look!"
His attention snapped down to the ground and when he looked back up at me his mouth hung open in shock before a smile took over his features and I could pick up on a new light in his eyes.
"YES! WE DID IT!" he yelled triumphantly and pumped his fists in the air. "WE BELIEVED AND WE DID IT!"
Laughing, I watched as he leaped in the air with absolute glee and lunged towards me when his feet touched the ground. Wrapping his arms around my waist and attempting to spin me around, we clumsily stumbled together in a jumble of limbs.
"See?" I shoved his shoulder playfully, causing him to stagger backwards with a wide, beaming smile on his face. "You aren't useless."
"Thanks," he grinned and jumped back onto the hood of a nearby parked car. "We actually did-"
Suddenly, a loud alarm noise started to radiate from the vehicle, causing Stiles to leap off immediately as if it was on fire. I slapped my hand to my mouth before bursting into another fit of laughter.
"Come on, dummy, we've got a lizard to catch before you lure my parents and their loaded guns right to us."
"I thought you didn't think I was dumb?"
"Yeah, don't make me take it back," I teased, grabbing his hand and pulling him in the direction of the large, loading door entrance and into the building bursting at the seems with dancing people.
The music was throbbing so loudly that I could barely hear, thanking the fact that it made everyone oblivious to the battles going on outside. But it also made them oblivious to the dangers lurking ahead of them if Jackson was around, as they jumped around to the beats excitedly in neon tinted clothes. For a second, I glanced down at my own wardrobe of jeans, a tank top, and a cardigan, and became insecure that I stood out like a sore thumb. To the gaggle of girls passing by in short skirts and crop tops who were staring at me judgingly, I was clearly not rave material.
Stiles pulled at my hand.
"ERICA TEXTED THAT THEY'RE IN THE BACK STORAGE ROOM!"
"WHAT?!" I yelled, barely detecting any words from Stiles despite lip-reading attempts.
He moved closer, pressing his lips to my ear but failing to lower his noise level. "ERICA TEXTED THAT THEY'RE IN THE BACK STORAGE ROOM!"
I winced back, rubbing my ear. "OKAY, GEEZ. NO NEED TO SCREAM IN MY EAR!"
"WHAT?!"
Rolling my eyes, I gave up on trying to communicate until we were out of the mob and led the way to the back of the warehouse where most supply closets and storage rooms were located.
When we arrived at a large industrial door isolated in it's own corridor, I assumed we had found the right place. I twisted the handle and opened it to step inside, causing Erica and Isaac to jump and pounce forward in surprise defense.
"Whoa," I threw my hands up in surrender, slamming into Stiles chest as I took a step back from the on-edge werewolves. "It's just us."
Erica relaxed her shoulders and pulled us inside. "Sorry, there isn't exactly a peephole on that door."
I nodded towards Isaac cordially and waited for Stiles to shut the door as we all stared hesitantly at Jackson who slumped in a simple fold out chair at the edge of the room. He looked knocked out from the ketamine, but I wasn't entirely sure he was safe.
I noticed the absence of one particular teen wolf in the room. "Where's Scott?"
"He said he had to go find Derek and stop your family from ruining the plan," Isaac muttered. "We had to drug this asshole ourselves."
"Is he okay?" Stiles asked, motioning to the unpredictable kanima.
Isaac shrugged. "Let's find out."
The three of us watched on as he made his way slowly to the boy in the chair. Taking a breath, Isaac extended his claws and went to slash at Jackson in a fast, swift motion.
Suddenly, without moving his head or shoulders, the kanima's arm snapped up quickly and intercepted Isaac's hand; twisting it dramatically until I could here something snapping in the werewolves arm.
Moaning in pain, Isaac managed to break free from the hold and scamper back to join us against the wall, supporting his hand and wincing.
"Okay, no one does anything like that again!" Stiles exclaimed, waving a finger around at all of us.
"I thought the ketamine was supposed to put him out," Isaac whined, struggling with his injury.
"Well apparently this is all we're gonna get. So let's just hope that whoever's controlling him decided to show up tonight."
"I'm here," a voice distorted from Jackson's body echoed throughout the small space, causing us all to jump back in fear and glare at the boy in the chair who had abruptly rolled his head up to stare back at us with glowing eyes. "I'm right here with you."
"Jackson," Stiles stepped forward slowly. "Is that you?"
"Us. We're all here."
Stiles turned back to us with a look of confusion on his face that mirrored all of ours. The way Jackson was speaking as if he was possessed, made everything that more uncomfortable and frightening. "Are you the one killing people?"
"We're the ones killing murderers," Jackson seethed. "Everyone we've killed deserved it."
"So all of your victims so far have been murderers?" I asked, sensing Isaac fidget beside me at the thought of his father.
"All. Each. Every one."
"Well who did they murder?"
"ME!" Jackson barked, rocking in his chair slightly.
"What does that mean?" Erica whispered.
"They murdered me!"
"How could the person who's controlling him be dead?" I panicked. "Is there some paranormal element to this that we don't know about?"
Suddenly, Jackson cracked his neck sideways and the irises of his eyes transformed into narrow slits. I took in a deep breath of air as I watched Jackson's hand creep up from lying lazily at his side to the top of his thighs - sharp claws fully extended.
"Okay, ketamine," Stiles smacked Isaac's arm urgently. "The man needs more ketamine. Come on!"
The boy dug the small container I remembered from Deaton's office out of his pocket and held it up to the three of us before glancing nervously at Jackson. "We don't have anymore."
"You used the whole bottle?" Stiles asked incredulously.
Suddenly, I felt Erica tap my shoulder and I followed her gaze from the bickering boys back to the kanima who was now rising to his feet dangerously quickly. Mimicking Erica's actions, I hit Stiles' back to grab his attention. This snapped both him and Isaac back into reality as the four of us watched Jackson rise to his full height and - with a scale texture creeping its way up the boy's neck - hiss violently at us and display his full set of fangs.
Very aware of the close proximity we had to the monster locked inside the small storage room, I came to my senses. "Um, okay, out. Everybody out!"
The four of us burst into action as we leaped for the door, pushing each other and filing hurriedly out of the room. "Go, go, go, GO!"
As we slammed our bodies against the closed door behind us, I prayed that the way our weights were sandwiched in the door frame was enough to keep Jackson in.
"We have to find something to move in front of the door!" Stiles shouted just as a loud crash was heard from inside the storage room.
Before we knew it, Jackson was smashing through the layers of wall next to where we were huddled and sprinting in a blur out into the warehouse with a mission on his mind. Wood beams splintered and dust settled as we all looked on in shock.
"Oh God!" Erica cried, clamping a hand to her mouth.
"Go find Derek," I insisted and tried to subdue the panic in my chest. "I have to go find my sister. Hurry!"
Erica and Isaac nodded before running from our group. Stiles followed after them for a few steps but hesitated, whipping around to face me with a worried expression.
"El-"
"Hurry! Go with them, you have to find Derek. He can help us figure out what to do. If anything, the kanima and his master will still be inside because of the ash."
"But-"
"I'll be careful, Stiles," I urged. "Just go."
He looked at me once before nodding at the ground and turning on his feet to follow after the werewolves.
When I ran into the crowd of dancing party-goers, I dodged as many bodies as I could until my eyes landed on Allison's figure a few feet from me with Matt at her side. Crashing into her, I rested my hands on her shoulders.
"HAVE YOU SEEN JACKSON?" I shouted over the music and she shook her head. Her body was moving to the beat of the song but she wore a frown and her eyes were avoiding Matt. "WE HAD HIM FOR A MINUTE BUT HE-"
I flickered my gaze over to the boy who I barely recognized without his camera and tried to figure out how to word our situation without being completely obvious that we had a murderer on our hands.
"-HE DISAPPEARED."
"I JUST TEXTED DAD THAT I COULDN'T SEE HIM!"
"ARE THEY-"
I began to phrase another question to figure out my family's whereabouts but I froze when a sudden feeling like I had been punched in the gut took over my senses.
My adrenaline was out of control, and I barely had a second to react before I was envisioning a girl slightly older than us, distracted on her cell phone behind a curtain somewhere with the kanima creeping up to her in full attack mode.
I let out a blood curdling scream as I saw the disaster unfold.
Blinking, I was shoved to the floor of the dancing mob just as the DJ announced the last song of the night. Allison reached for my arms and pulled me up as I staggered and felt dizzy under her hold.
I heaved heavily and my eyes welled up as Matt stared at me like I was crazy.
"WHAT DID SHE TAKE?" I heard him ask my sister but she ignored him and started carrying me out of the crowd.
"We're too late," I cried into her ear.
There had been another kanima homicide, and as Dad would probably lecture later, we were held responsible because of every piece of information we kept to ourselves.
As if I didn't already feel sick enough, when the two of us - trailed by Matt - were able to make it outside and get some fresh air, Gerard turned the corner and made his way over with a blank expression on his face.
"It didn't work," Allison told him, still supporting me. "None of it worked."
"Oh I wouldn't say that. In fact, I'd say the prognosis isn't nearly as dire as it seems. Not nearly," Gerard placed a hand on my shoulder and I grimaced. I couldn't understand why he seemed so relaxed, not when I knew someone had just died. "Are you alright, Eleanor? I know these things are meant to be fun but sometimes substances can really affect the mind of a hunter. Remember what I told you about Argents needing to be sound of mind?"
I didn't answer, and tried not to listen in order to prevent myself from losing it and punching him in the nose.
"Come on then, let's get you two home."
Matt caught up from behind us. "Wait, Allison, I'm sorry about earlier. Let me drive you home and make it up to you."
"Young man, I think it'd be best if you left alone," Gerard growled. "I suggest you get going. People can become animals when the crowd lets out for the night and we're right in the middle of the exit. We wouldn't want anyone getting hurt."
Staring at our grandfather with a hint of confusion, the boy nodded briefly and turned to leave.
"Here, this way," Gerard sneered as he led us over to where one of our family's many parked black SUVs sat waiting for us.
Allison pulled me along and looked around the parking lot for more of the Argent team. "Where's Mom and Dad?"
"They'll meet us at home."
With my eyes glued to the ground as we crossed the pavement, I noticed the thick black line of mountain ash still lining the building. However, as we made our way over it, I noticed the large gap stretching multiple feet across that had been blown aside and cleared.
Our seal had been broken.
Stumbling into the backseat, my heart sank. And by the time the police had arrived at the warehouse and found the body, I was already asleep.
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a/n: so much drama and stellie moments this chapter i hope you enjoyed (and y'all know what was happenin with mama argent while all of this was going on.............if you don't recall dw bc we shall find out NEXT CHAPTER)
also, random fun fact for anyone who cares, it turns out that i was a student in Harris' 2006 chemistry class lol. when the sheriff is holding the list of names, one of them matches my first name. not my last name, but that appears later in the series when the character who's my surname twin joins the show in season 4!
please vote and comment what you thought of all this and I shall see you next time :)
thanks for reading!
p.s. i plan on finishing this book and moving on to the sequel in the next few weeks! how exciting!!