"This is incredible!" I said to Stiles over the loud boom of the music.
He nodded, his eyes scanning around the loft. If Derek ever found out about what's going on here right now he would flip. As much as I want him to come back, I really hope he doesn't pick tonight to make his return.
"Hey, isn't that Eric?" Stiles asked me, pointing out a body in the crowd.
I narrowed my eyes to where he was pointing, and sure enough there was my brother with his hands all over some girl in a lime green bandeau and a pink wig. His bare chest was painted with the neon colors, although some of it was rubbing off from how close he was dancing.
"Unbelievable," I said, shaking my head at my brother. I really didn't think that this was his kind of party, but he does deserve to let a little bit loose. Although, once I saw his mouth attach to her neck I knew it was time to move on. I grabbed Stiles' hand and drug him away. "Let's go get painted,"
I led him over towards the table in the corner where the supply of paint was. There were two artists doing the painting, but I wanted to do Stiles myself. I grabbed a brush and a tray full of all different colors before tugging at the hem of Stiles' shirt.
"Off," I ordered.
He yanked it back down. "No way, not in front of this many people,"
I cocked my hip and gave him a look. When he still didn't budge I set down the brush and tray and unzipped the hoodie I was wearing, tossing it off to the side. Underneath it I was wearing a slim white spaghetti strapped crop top that revealed my stomach, shoulders, and chest. It was glowing a blueish-purple from the UV lights.
"Your turn," I told him. The sound of my voice made him snap his mouth closed.
"You've seen me shirtless before,"
"And I wanna see it again," I begged, beginning to roll his shirt up from the bottom, revealing the line of hair on his stomach that led underneath the band of his jeans. "Come on, this is our night. Who cares what anyone else thinks?"
He let out a sigh and I smiled, knowing I had won him over. I pulled his shirt off over his head, tossing it on top of my hoodie. I ran my fingers along his bare skin, leaning in close so that our noses were nearly touching. I could feel his breath against my cheek, and just as he was about to kiss me, I dipped away and grabbed the brush and paint.
"You're evil," he said as I painted a long stroke of green across his chest.
"I'll make up for it later," I said into his ear.
His eyebrows shot up as I painted a swirl of orange next to the green. I've never been much of an artist, but with Stiles as my canvas, who knows what kind of masterpiece I'll create, not that he isn't one already. I then painted a tribal pattern on his face, not wanting to cover up too much of his chest.
Once I was finished, Stiles took the tray and brush and began working on me. It was oddly intimate, the way he was doing it. He was dotting my collarbone with paint, his eyes casually flickering up to meet mine every now and then. His movements were slow, and I found myself staring at his long eyelashes as he focused on painting my body.
I felt breathless when he moved his brush up to my face, drawing a curved line across the bridge of my nose. I watched his eyes as he then painted three more dots above my left eyebrow, the whites of them glowing from the black light. We both just stared at each other for a moment after he lowered his brush.
"How does it look?" I asked him, my heart pounding in my chest.
"Beautiful," he said. "I mean you - you look beautiful,"
I giggled and grabbed his hand, leading him out onto the dance floor. "Come on,"
I wrapped my hands around his neck, his coiling their way around my waist. Maybe my paint job isn't as good as what the artists could have done, but it was mine and it was on Stiles. And that was enough to make it look damn good.
We moved to the heavy beat of the music, both of us tremendously uncoordinated. But that didn't matter because even though we were surrounded by people, it was just the two of us. No one else in this room mattered except for him.
I pulled his lips to mine from the grip around his neck. He tasted sweet, like butterscotch almost, the way he always tastes. His tongue slid against my bottom lip and I let him in without a second thought. He's gotten way too good with his tongue for me to even mess around with teasing him. I think he knows it, too.
Our bodies grinded together with the music, his leg moving in between my thighs. I pulled my lips away from his and turned around, pressing my back into his chest and my butt into his groin. I grabbed his hands and placed them low on my hips, still swinging to the beat.
I swept my hair to one side, feeling Stiles' mouth immediately dive onto the open spot on my neck. My eyes nearly rolled into the back of my head at the pleasure that tingled my skin. He sucked on the sweet spot we found over the summer and I didn't even care that my mouth was hanging open. I didn't have the capacity to keep it shut at this point.
Stiles spun me back around, pulling my body into his and kissing me feverishly. I ran my hands down his bare shoulders, feeling the muscles in his back flexing underneath my touch. He was making me lose control.
When I brought my hands back down to slide across his chest, his fingers found the bracelet he had given me. He smiled at me as he held the silver heart that was engraved with our initials. It felt almost like a piece of him.
"Thank you," I said over the boom of the music.
"What?"
"Thank you," I repeated, louder this time so he could hear me.
We were still dancing to the beat, bouncing back and forth like idiots. "You already thanked me for the bracelet,"
"Maybe I'm thanking you for more than that,"
He gave me a confused look, but he ought to know what I'm talking about. I have countless things to thank him for, things like being there for me even when I couldn't remember my own name, or when I went on a psychotic rampage. He never gave up on me, and no matter what he's going through now, I'm not going to give up on him either.
I wrapped my hands around the back of his neck and pulled his lips back into mine. We've all seen and been through some terrible things, but kissing Stiles...that's the one thing that's right. It will always be right.
"Should've known I'd see you two here," said a too-familiar voice over the music.
Stiles and I both pulled away and froze, not quite knowing what to do. I turned my head to see Eric standing before us with a smirk on his face and his arms folded across his bare chest. There were neon pink lipstick stains dotted along his jaw and neck.
"I'm - uh...gonna go get us some drinks," said Stiles awkwardly.
"Good idea," said Eric. Stiles gave an uncomfortable laugh before walking away.
"Seriously?" I said, cocking an eyebrow at my brother. "You're one to talk with all those lip stains on your neck,"
He gave me a sarcastic smile. "Someone had to intervene before things got too out of hand,"
"Someone always does," I muttered under my breath. Luckily Eric couldn't hear me with even his werewolf ears over the music. "Why are you even here anyways?"
"Security," he said, shifting on his feet and straightening his back. I rolled my eyes. "That and I haven't been to a good party in a while, especially with girls like these,"
"You're disgusting," I said, turning and beginning to walk away.
"You're just lucky those hickeys heal fast!" He shouted at me.
I flipped him my middle finger as I continued making my way through the crowd. I plopped down on the spiral staircase away from the mass amounts of people. There were a few couples scattered around, but they were too preoccupied at the moment to notice me.
The last time I sat on these steps was with Cora, the first time I'd seen her since thinking she died in the fire. It didn't hit me until now how much I really miss her. Allison and Lydia are great friends, but they just don't get me the way Cora does. She's known me for too long. I just want to talk to her again, know that she's okay, that she's happy.
I was pulled from my thoughts at the sight of Stiles coming over to me with two beers in his hand. He sat down and handed me one. It's been forever since I've had a drink. There's just no time to do stupid teenage stuff like this.
"Your brother's not gonna kill me, is he?" Stiles asked.
"No, no," I said, giving a light laugh. "He's just being protective. He likes you, don't worry,"
It's true, too. Eric told me how he thinks Stiles is good for me. He wasn't all that fond of him when we first were getting together, but he's come around to see how happy Stiles makes me, and that makes him happy.
"You're not scared of him are you?" I asked teasingly as Stiles pulled out his key ring to use his bottle opener.
"What? Pfft, no," he said. "It's just he has razor sharp teeth and...claws,"
I chuckled and shook my head at him. He grabbed my beer and popped the cap with his bottle opener. As he did so, something on his key ring caught my eye. At first I thought it must be a trick of the light, but then Stiles moved to open his beer and the color was still there.
"Your key," I said, pointing it out. "It has phosphors on it,"
"What?" He grabbed the key I was talking about and held it up. It was glowing a light green and looked almost like a fingerprint. He eyed it suspiciously. "Wait, what are phosphors?"
"It's like any substance that is luminescent," I explained, thankful I actually learned something from paying attention in Chemistry. "It's in your teeth, fingernails, laundry detergent,"
The expression on Stiles' face was making me nervous.
"It's also in the paint," I continued. "It reacts to the UV light and that's why it glows,"
"Okay, how do you know all of this and why do I have phosphors on my key?"
"Well, some of us actually did our Chemistry homework," I said. "And I don't know, you haven't been handling any chemicals recently, have you?"
"No, I don't think - "
He cut himself off, and I could tell he was thinking about something. He always makes this face when he's thinking. I just want to know what before I go insane. "Stiles?"
"I have to go," he said, standing up.
"What? Stiles - "
"Emma, just stay here, okay?" He said, holding me by the shoulders. "I have to go,"
He spun around and began jogging away. I called after him again, pushing through the crowd to follow him. This isn't like him. He wouldn't just run off without giving me an explanation. We tell each other everything, no matter what. We always have.
By the time I had gotten through the mosh pit in the middle of the dance floor, I had lost him. That didn't mean I wasn't still going to try and figure out where the hell he's going and why. Something must be happening, and I need to know, especially if it has to do with Stiles.
I ran out of the loft, practically leaping down the stairs to get to the bottom floor. I made my way out onto the street, looking from side to side for any sign of him, but there was none. I couldn't even catch a scent.
I let out a defeated sigh and rubbed my hands up my arms as the air turned cold. My breath created a fog in the air. It shouldn't be this cold, not in California at this time of the year. An eerie feeling crept up my spine, a feeling that something was here with me. That I wasn't alone.
A clicking sounded from behind me, and I snapped my head around to see a tall, dark, and masked figure walking towards me. I stumbled backwards, trying to get away, but another one was heading in my direction. I backed up against the wall of the building, three of them now surrounding me.
Everything around me was so dark. The only source of light was the glowing green eyes of the figures. They looked almost like...fireflies. The closer they got to me the more my body began to shake. I felt a cold sweat running down my forehead. I wanted to yell, scream, anything, but the air felt like it had been sucked straight out of my lungs.
The figure in the middle took a step closer to me, bringing it's hand up and gripping the side of my head. I felt a small burn behind my ear, but before I could even think about what just happened, they were gone.
I collapsed to the ground, shaking and drained of energy. My body felt like it was going into shock. Everything was going blurry. I was gasping for air and even though I was freezing, my body was drenched in sweat.
"Emma! Emma!" I heard a voice in the background.
I tried to focus my vision to see who it was, but everything was still foggy. Keeping my eyes open was too much work. A hand cupped the side of my face, another trying to hold my body down to keep from shaking.
"Stay with me, come on," the voice said, taking me into their arms. "Oh you are gonna kill me for this,"
I let out a wail of pain as I felt my left wrist snap in two. My body stopped shaking as I held my broken wrist in my good hand. I sat up against the wall and blinked a few times, my vision finally clearing enough to see who the voice belonged to and who was holding me.
"I had to trigger the healing process," said Derek. His arms were wrapped tightly around me, giving me the warmth that I lacked.
There were so many things I wanted to ask him, like where he's been all this time and why he's back now, but my body was still trying to heal itself. I took in small breaths of air as Derek continued to hold and relax me. I was beginning to warm up, but my wrist wasn't healing as quickly.
"Wh-what where those...th - those things?" I stuttered out, my teeth chattering.
"I don't know," he said, his voice raw. "But they attacked me too,"
My bone was slowly beginning to mend itself. "Wh - Why? What do they...what do they want?"
He shook his head. "I don't know, but we need to get you up to the loft,"
He pulled me to my feet, slinging my good arm around his shoulders so I wouldn't collapse. My whole body still felt numb, almost like one giant noddle. He began walking us back into the building. I had to speak between breaths, as walking was a lot of work at the moment.
"You're...not...gonna be...happy," I panted out once we got into the elevator.
"What? Why?"
The music became louder the closer the elevator took us to Derek's floor. He heard it, his ears perking up and his eyes going wide. "There's...a party,"
The elevator doors slid open and Derek hobbled me over towards the main door, sliding that one open as well. Behind it revealed the plethora of half drunk and colorfully painted teens dancing the night away to the heavy music of the Bloody Beetroots.
"You have got to be kidding me," he stated.
"Emma!" I looked up to see Eric rushing towards me. He took me from Derek's grip and into his own. He seemed to have forgotten that we haven't seen Derek in over a month without any contact. "What happened?"
"Th-they attacked us too," I muttered.
Eric was about to question when a look of realization crossed his face. "The masked figures?"
"Yeah, how'd you know?" Derek asked him.
"Because they attacked Isaac and I last night,"
I gripped onto my brother's shirt, cradling my still healing wrist into my chest. I wished that Stiles were here, but he ran off. He left without even an explanation and he left me to be cornered by some kind of demonic figures. I shouldn't be mad at him, because I know it's not his fault, but part of me is. I'm just too used to him being there when I need him. He's always there.
"Wait here," ordered Derek.
Eric and I watched as he marched through the crowd, approaching the DJ table where the Bloody Beetroots was playing the music. We glanced at each other, unable to hear what he was saying over the pounding music. Although, hardly a moment later, the entire loft went silent when Derek flipped the DJ table. I knew he wouldn't be happy about this.
"GET OUT!" He shouted.
Eric pulled me over to the side as everyone went running out of the loft. I was beginning to feel better, but my wrist still hurt and everything felt kind of numb. The place cleared out quickly and I saw Isaac and Allison supporting one of the twins. It must have happened to him too.
When the floor cleared, I saw one of the masked figures that had attacked me standing in the middle, two more behind it.. They made the clicking nose I heard before, a dark smoke emitting off of them. I curled myself closer to Eric as I watched them approach another one of the twins.
"Um, guys," he said, and now that he spoke I realized it was Aiden. "They're all looking at me. Why are they all looking at me?"
The figures took another step closer towards Aiden.
"Guys?" He called out.
Scott and Derek both reacted, lunging at the figures and throwing punches. These things didn't fight like werewolves. They were almost like...ninjas. They kicked and flipped, smoothly dodging all of Derek and Scott's attacks. Eric moved to go help them, but I clung to his shirt and gave him a look telling him to stay put.
Derek roared and jumped at one of them, taking it's head between his hands and snapping it's neck. It only took a moment for the figure to heal and throw Derek into one of the wooden support beams that had been painted in neon.
Scott tried again, swinging his arms and dodging around their kicks. But it didn't take much before he was slammed into the back wall. The figured crept closer to Aiden again, and Isaac stepped out, exposing his claws. The figure turned around to face him, pulling a sword out of it's stomach. It swung it around with so much skill and expertise, it made me wonder what the hell these things really are and what they're doing here.
Isaac backed away after seeing the masked figure demonstrate its sword skills. The figure then turned back around and approached Aiden, while the other two held him by the arms. "Somebody do something," said Allison, but no one did. There was nothing we could do.
The figure held its hand around the side of Aiden's face, the same way it had done with me. I heard a tisk as something burned behind his ear. The figure then stepped back, letting Aiden fall to the ground.
Scott got to his feet, standing in front of Kira. His eyes were glowing red and his fangs barred. He growled at the figures as they crept towards him. I could see the shock on Kira's face, and the anger on Scott's. He wouldn't have wanted her to find out like this, I know he wouldn't.
As Scott's chest heaved with growls, light filled the loft from the windows. The sun was rising. When the light hit them, the figures all disappeared into thin puffs of black smoke. I felt myself relax, now that they were gone.
"What the hell were those things?" Scott asked as Ethan jogged over to tend to his brother.
Everyone glanced around at each other, none of us really having a sure answer. These things, whatever they are, they're here for a reason. I'm going to take it upon myself to figure out what that reason is.
"Your dad's twenty-four hours are up," said Isaac, looking at Allison.
There's so much more to this than we know, and I just wish Stiles was here to help me figure it all out.
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Thanks so much for reading!
I hope you enjoyed my take on the black light rave ;)
Thanks again and don't forget to comment, vote, and follow!
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox
-Alyssa