Despite the nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach, I couldn't help but feel rather good about the day ahead. Derek wasn't there when I woke up this morning, but I also woke up with Dad placing a steaming cup of coffee on my bedside table. Derek must have slipped out when Dad got home, so I didn't let it bother me.
But if I had to be honest about my good mood this morning, I'd say it had something to do with Dad mentioning something about getting me my own set of wheels to get around - of course, something secondhand because it's not like a Sheriff's pay could afford a Porsche like someone's lawyer parents could... but I'm getting a car! Or a truck. Or anything. I wasn't picky. I've been scrolling through car dealership websites the entire way to school and a few of them caught my eye. Some of them a little... exhilarating for Dad's taste, but I'm willing to bet I could persuade him.
"Getting your own car?" Stiles scrunched his nose as the three of us made our way to the locker room, "What, the jeep's not good enough for you anymore?"
I rolled my eyes, "No, the jeep's great, lots of memories made in it an all. But need I remind you how many times I had to rely on Derek to drive me around because you had your own wheels and I didn't?"
"Like he minded?" Scott arched a brow.
"He doesn't, but having your own car is like having a pair of wings. It's a symbol of freedom and Independence."
My brother gave me a quizzical look, "You'd make a fine candidate for president someday." He sniffed awkwardly and shifted a glance between Scott and I, "So, uh, tonight's a full moon. How are we feeling about that?"
I clenched my jaw and tried thinking about anything but tonight. Before Stiles drove us to school, I've been spending the greatest part of the morning searching the garage for chains - I found some and already hid them in my room for in case. To say that I'm petrified was an understatement.
"Not like the last one." Scott replied with confidence, "I don't feel the same."
"Does that include the urge to maim and kill people like me?" Stiles wondered out loud.
"I swear I don't have the urge to maim and kill you," Scott promised as we entered the locker room.
I would've just left them at the entrance, but my mind's been so occupied about the full moon, that I hardly realized I've already ventured in too far.
"You know," Stiles pointed out, "you say that now but then the full moon goes up and out come the fangs and the claws and there's a lot of howling and screaming and running everywhere, okay? And it's very stressful on me and so yes, I'm still locking you up." He turned to me with an uncomfortable look, "And you, Riles? Should I... you know... I could..."
I acted like it didn't bother me, just to ease his worried thoughts, "Derek's going to help me. You just look after our boy here."
Scott shrugged, "Good to hear. But I do think I'm in more control now. Especially since things are good with Allison."
"Okay, I'm aware of how good things are with Allison," Stiles replied bluntly.
Scott grinned suggestively, "They're really good."
"I..." My brother choked, "Thank you, I know."
"I mean like, really good."
"All right, we get it!" I held up my hands for both of them to shut up, "Just make a sex tape and get it over with. Watching it will be less awkward that imagining it through the tone of voice you used in emphasizing 'really good'."
Scott didn't even seem offended by my remark and turned to my brother, "Yeah, all right. Did you get something better than handcuffs this time?"
My brother nodded, "Yeah, much better."
He opened his locker with confidence, only for a reel of chain to drop out. It slithered to the floor in unthinkable noise, causing every guy in the room to turn their heads towards us. I cast my eyes downward and pinched the bridge of my nose - idiots. Even Coach stalked up behind me and watched the chain unreeling over my shoulder while chewing gum and wearing a blank expression.
When the chain finally ran out, he looked up at the two idiots, "Part of me wants to ask. The other part says knowing will be more disturbing than anything I could ever imagine. So, I'm gonna walk away." He paused and fixed his eyes on me - a girl in the boys' locker room, only to shake his head rapidly, "Don't wanna know either. I'm walking away."
"That's good." Stiles called after the coach, "That's a wise choice, coach."
We all ducked down at once to pick up the chain on the floor, desperate to hide it back in the locker and just forget it ever happened. Seriously, it looked worse for me - the only girl in the boys' locker room, chains, two guys... see the pattern? And not to mention the pesky looks some of the guys gave me. One even had the nerve to let his gaze fall on my ass.
I was about to flip him off but stopped with my middle finger mid-air when a foreign scent hit my nose. Considering I was in a boys' locker room, all smells should be disgusting and foreign, but this stood out and was almost familiar with... the omega's from last night. Werewolf.
Scott sensed it too and met my eyes, puzzled.
"You okay?" Stiles asked when he noticed the silent stare-off we were having.
"There's another." Scott muttered, bemused, "In here, right now."
"Another what?"
My eyes searched the guys frantically, "Another werewolf."
I flinched when hearing the shrill noise of the bell all the way from the hall. Practice was about to start and I had Spanish. But I knew my mind would be anywhere but focusing on the class while a new werewolf was around. I was curious about who it might be but more worried that they might accidentally set the hunters on our tails.
So I followed Scott and Stiles out to the field towards the bleachers. I studied every guy we passed, stealing a whiff of them and even so much as nudged them to get some kind of wolfy reaction out of them. To be blunt, I think some guys thought I was probably leading them on. But those who attempted a move were flipped off or thoroughly ignored.
"Wait, how do you know there's another werewolf here?" Stiles muttered under his breath when we reached the bench, "And who is it?"
"It was kind of like a scent." Scott started, "But I couldn't tell who it was."
My eyes scanned the guys on the field, "I can't pinpoint any specific guy. You got to get him one-on-one, Scott."
Stiles perked up and I could literally see a light bulb flicker above his head, "Riley, you're a genius! I've got an idea."
Stiles scuttled off towards Coach and I didn't even bother to tune in on what they were discussing. I already knew it would either involve Scott getting hurt or embarrassing himself. I screwed my eyes shut and reopened them as if that would magically make me see glowing people again. Maybe if one person glowed a different colour than the other, I'd know which one's the werewolf. But no one was glowing and I only ended up seeing sploshes of purple and blue.
Stiles returned a bit out of breath, "I told Coach you're switching with Danny for the day."
Scott's brows knitted together, "But I hate playing goal."
"Yeah, and as far as rules go, the goalie's supposed to stay inside the goal." I added sceptically, "How's Scott going to get anyone one-on-one?"
"Remember when I said I had an idea?" Stiles grinned and grinned like an idiot, "This is the idea."
Scott frowned before nodded, "Oh!"
I drew my lips in a thin line, counting backwards. And in three... two... one...
"What's the idea?"
And cue clueless Scott McCall. I sighed despondently and rested my head on my hands as Stiles only stared at Scott in disbelief, "I seriously don't understand how you survive without me sometimes."
"Really?" I arched a brow at him, "If it wasn't for me, neither of you would've survived this long anyway. Think about that the next time you think about doing something without me."
Stiles shrugged after putting some thought in it, "Agreed. If it wasn't for your cooking I would've starved ages ago."
I gaped at him and was about to respond with some witty remark, but Coach's voice called out from the field, "Let's go! Line it up! Faster! Make daddy proud."
Scott and Stiles ran onto the field and left me on the bleachers to my unspoken remark. I leaned back and crossed my arms, both excited and half-scared to see what Scott's going to do to find the other werewolf. He still had no idea what Stiles' idea was. This ought to be good.
The players all fell in a straight line a few feet from the goal, where Scott was waiting with his net in his hands. Coach blew the whistle and the first player ran forward to score a goal. But at the same time, Scott abandoned his position as goalie and dashed straight ahead. I flinched when he tackled the opposite player into the ground, already knowing that had to hurt like hell. He hovered over the player and seemed to sniff him, before jumping to his feet again. All I could do was gape at our friend while shaking my head. Great idea, Stiles. Well done.
"McCall!" Coach yelled from next to me, "Usually the goalie stays somewhere within the vicinity of the actual goal!"
"Yes, Coach." Scott rushed back to the goal and awaited the next whistle.
It went off and the second player ran out to try his luck against Scott. However, the latter only repeated his previous run and tackled the poor player's legs right from underneath him. He crouched in a superhero position and sniffed the guy again. My head fell into my hands. Why am I even still watching this?
"McCall! The position's goalkeeper. Not goal abandoner!" Coach yelled again.
It didn't get any better since then. The next player took an even worse hit and literally flew through the air, landing on his stomach and having the wind knocked out of him. I caught Danny sending Jackson a worried glance. I would've been worried too if my ribcage and spleen were at stake in 'The Fellowship Of Sniffing Out A Werewolf'.
"Female Stilinski!" I jumped when Coach's voice rang in my ears, "What the hell is up with your friend?"
"I, uh..." I swallowed and looked from Coach to Scott, "He's failing two classes, he's a little socially awkward and if you look close enough, his jaw line's kind of uneven."
Coach looked from me to Scott, "That's interesting..."
The next guy who suffered Scott's stunt was Danny. And right after he was rammed into the ground, Jackson came complaining at Coach that his shoulder was hurting, and Coach benched him for the rest of practice. Wimp.
"McCall!" Coach yelled, "If you come out of that goal one more time, you'll be doing suicide runs until you die! It will be the first-ever suicide run that will actually end in a suicide!"
Then, out of the blue, my vision changed and the glowing returned. My heartbeat accelerated while I blinked rapidly. Great, just brilliant, now it actually works. But I didn't waste any time to scan the people on the bleachers and the field, just in case the glowing would disappear before I could make good use of it - whatever it meant anyway. Everyone had about the same glow about them; shades of orange, yellow and even green. But one guy stood out from the rest.
Isaac Lahey.
The only person that glowed a muddy shade of blue.
And he was next in line to score a goal.
The whistle blew and before I could give Scott any sign or warning, he collided with Isaac and the two of them were as good as airborne. However, instead of crashing into the grass like the other players did, Isaac landed in the same superhero position as Scott, and the two of them were engaged in a stare-off. Scott figured it out.
My glowing vision disappeared when another whistle blew. First, I expected Coach to actually send Scott on his suicide run, but three uniformed figures in the distance caught my eye. Dad and two other officers met Coach halfway on the field. They talked for about three seconds before Coach beckoned Isaac to them.
Scott and Stiles joined me on the bleachers and we watched the officers, Coach and Isaac discussing stuff on the side of the field. Stiles nudged us, "What are they saying?"
"His father's dead." Scott muttered, "They think he was murdered."
My heart dropped and instantly I felt sorry for Isaac. I never knew him, he has always been on the lacrosse team though, but we didn't have any classes together. Basically he was only another face in the crowd of students I sometimes saw around. But I could say that we had one thing in common; we both lost a parent, and as far as I knew, he only had his dad left.
"Are they saying he's a suspect?" Stiles asked again.
"Yeah, but I don't know why."
I frowned after tuning in on their distant voices, "Because they can lock him in a holding cell for 24 hours."
Scott's head jerked to me, "Overnight?"
"If you mean during the full moon," I swallowed gravely, "then yes. Overnight."
We worriedly stared at Isaac from across the field. He seemed very much in control, but in a few hours, he'll start feeling the effect of the full moon. Scott stressed, "How good are these holding cells at holding people?"
"People, good." Stiles replied blankly, "Werewolves, probably not that good."
"Remember when I said I don't have the urge to maim and kill?" Scott muttered, "I think he does."
Silently we watched as Dad and the officers led the teenager away. My thoughts were buzzing and the biggest question of them all was how could Isaac be a werewolf? He had to be newly turned, otherwise, he would've been on the run at the previous full moons, probably already hunted down by the Argents. But if he was new, then who... my muscles tensed.
Derek.
That bastard.
Mr Harris was writing on the board in Chemistry class, and I desperately tried focusing all my attention on the lesson. But it turned out that it wasn't as easy as it usually was. To say I'm pissed was an understatement. If Derek only knew how close I was to slipping school to find him and kill him, he'll already be emigrating to Mexico if he knew what's good for him - maybe even change his name and get a fake identity.
I honestly thought that after the Jackson-talk, he'd tell me when he's planning on turning random people into werewolves. However, I guess the part that pissed me off the most was the fact that he seemed to be picking random teenagers here at Beacon High. Out of a whole freaking town, he's targeting teenagers! Couldn't he see how the bite messed up Scott's life? The Argents aren't going to be cutting middle-aged men in half, but teenagers that didn't know what they were getting into.
I was so frustrated with my idiot mate and not telling me stuff, that I was too late to stop myself from snapping my pencil in clean half. Great. Now it's Derek's fault that I don't have a pencil as well.
"You okay?"
I turned around and caught Danny studying me in concern. My mouth corners twitched up in a weak smile, "Just... struggling to figure out this Chemistry. I'm fine."
He held a pencil towards me with a sweet smile, "Here, it's a spare. You can keep it."
Gosh, why are the sweetest guys always gay? "Thanks, Danny. You're great."
He humbly shrugged and turned back to his work, only to pause before adding, "I know you can't stand Jackson, but if you ever need someone to do lab work with, just give me a call."
Lucky is the man that will someday end up with Danny Mahealani.
I turned back to my book and continued copying the notes off the board, this time focusing on not breaking Danny's pencil instead of my idiot mate. Somewhere behind me, I heard Scott wondering out loud why Derek would choose Isaac. Stiles replied with something Peter told him about the bite killing you if your body rejected it, and maybe teenagers had a better chance of surviving. I scoffed. Derek would have a freaking great chance of surviving if he would start telling me about his plans regarding creating his pack.
"Doesn't being a teenager mean your dad can't hold him?" Scott whispered to Stiles, referring to Isaac in jail.
"Well, not unless they have solid evidence. Or a witness. Wait..." Stiles' voice trailed off and then piped up again, "Riley?" I turned in my chair and gave him an annoyed look. "Where's Jackson?"
"In hell, hopefully," I replied snidely but smiled sweetly.
Danny snorted at my back before answering their question, "In the principal's office talking to your dad."
That actually caught my attention, as well as Scott and Stiles', "What? Why?"
"Maybe because he lives across the street from Isaac."
Scott's eyes grew twice their size, "Witness."
"We gotta get to the principal's office," Stiles whispered in determination.
"Keep whispering that loud, and I'm sure you'll be on your way in a jiffy." I muttered and pretended to write something down from the board. My eyes briefly stole a glance at Mr Harris, who was still writing down stuff, oblivious to his two least favourite students planning on slipping his class.
"You're coming with us." Stiles told me urgently, "Derek's your mate. If anyone should be more involved in this, it's you. He's kinda your responsibility."
I groaned inwardly. Stupid, idiot mate! "Fine. Just cause your own diversion, don't drag me down with your bad life decisions. I'll get out on my own."
While I was brainstorming on all the different ways of slipping class without being sent to the principal's office, Stiles had already put his plan into action...
"Everyone please turn to page 73..." Mr Harris paused mid-sentence when a crumpled ball of paper hit the back of his head. He whipped his head around and searched the class with icy eyes, "Who in the hell did that?"
I bit back a snort when Scott and Stiles pointed at each other with the most stunned looks on their faces. The result wasn't hard to guess. They were enveloped, stamped, and couriered to the principal in less than ten seconds. That was my cue to join them.
I gritted on my teeth and dragged my thumb over the edge of the page in the book. Immediately it started bleeding thanks to the rather deep paper cut. Before it could heal, I smeared the blood underneath my nose and wiped my thumb clean on the inside of my sleeve.
"Mr Harris?" I squeaked out, "May I be excused? I get these terrible nosebleeds these days..."
Mr Harris turned around once again, but froze when seeing the blood on my face. For good measure, I pinched my nose as if it was actually gushing blood. "Oh, yes. Of course. You may go."
I scurried to my feet in fake desperation to stop the bleeding and hurried out of class. Scott and Stiles were waiting at the lockers behind the next turn, and we shuffled to the principal's office undetected.
The door was closed and Dad's muffled voice came from inside the office. Scott and Stiles huddled together on the bench outside the door while I leaned against the wall, wiping the blood off my face with a tissue. Honestly, what I wouldn't do for those two idiots. The two of them pressed their ears against the glass of the window to overhear the conversation inside, while I just tuned in through my enhanced hearing.
"Listen to me," Dad said to Jackson, "you're telling me that you knew Isaac's father was hitting him?"
I nearly choked on air when hearing that. Isaac's dad hit him? And now he's dead? That would make him one of the top suspects for his father's murder - and he's a freaking werewolf.
" Hitting him?" Came Jackson's voice. He sounded awfully bored. "He was kicking the crap out of him."
I gasped in a daze - I still couldn't believe it. The more I heard, the more I felt sorry for Isaac.
"Did you ever say anything to anyone? A teacher, parents, anyone?" Dad asked. He sounded just as shocked by the disturbing information.
"Nope." Jackson said in a matter-of-fact voice, "It's no my problem."
What an asshole!
"No, no, of course not." Dad muttered, "You know, it's funny that the kids getting beaten up are always the ones who least deserve it."
"Yeah. Wait, what?"
"I think we're done here." Before one of us could realize that Dad's done interrogating Jackson, the door of the principal's office swung open and he marched out. Stiles jumped and fumbled with a magazine to cover his face, while Scott and I could only look Dad awkwardly in the eye. He sighed down at my brother before nodding our way, "Hi, Scott, Riley."
"Hi, Dad." I smiled innocently and waved at him as he passed us, "Bye, Dad."
Stiles peeked over the magazine to make sure Dad's gone before lowering it. I thought about returning to class and finish my work. This was Scott and Stiles' problem and I'd rather not fall behind on Chemistry because I had a fake bleeding nose.
But when I turned to leave, the door of the office opened again and a chilling voice made the blood in my veins run cold, "Boys, come on in."
Scott and Stiles' expressions matched mine when we all looked up to see Gerard standing in the doorway, wearing a shit-eating grin on his wrinkly face. What the actual hell was he doing here? Where's Principal Thomas?
Gerard arched a brow and the boys scurried to their feet to obey orders. But then he caught me staring like a deer in headlights, and tilted his head in interest, "It seems to me I'm lost. I've been informed that I'll be confronting two boys Who might you be?"
"She's, uh..." Stiles froze and then blurted out, "My emotional support sister. Yeah, that's who she is."
I gaped like a guppy between my brother and the man I fear before I managed to stutter out, "I... I was just leaving."
Gerard pursed his lips in what seemed like pleasantry, "Nonsense! Why don't you come in as well? You might not be in trouble like these two are, but it's an excellent opportunity for me to meet some of the students. Come in, make yourself comfortable."
I felt like a rabbit following a wolf into its lair - ironically. Even though the interior of the office hasn't changed, it was like Gerard brought a negative energy with him. The one or two times I was sent to Principal Thomas with a note or message, I always felt welcome within these walls. But now... they might as well grow spikes and spit flames at me.
Gerard plopped down on the chair behind the desk and picked up a file, turning to the first page, "Scott McCall. Academically not the most accomplished, but I see you have become quite the star athlete." Scott smiled weakly and I shifted uneasily on my chair. The old man picked up a second file and glanced at my brother, "Mr Stilinski. Oh, perfect grades but little to no extracurriculars. Maybe you should try lacrosse."
Stiles grinned in flattery and shrugged, "Oh, actually I'm already -"
"And you?" Gerard cut him off by looking at me, "You two are related, yes?"
I swallowed and stole a glimpse at Stiles, "Yeah, we're twins. I'm... Riley." I didn't want to give him my name, but he would've discovered it on his own anyway when he checks my file.
"And what can you tell me about your grades, Riley? I don't have your file with me now."
"Well," I tried playing it casual, like any normal straight-A teenager would when they're asked about their grades, "same as my brother, I guess. Also no extracurriculars." Then I added, "But I'm planning on joining the track team actually."
Gerard nodded while his eyes burned into me, "Oh, a bit of a runner, are you? I personally think running is an excellent form of exercise. You never know when it might come in handy."
Obviously, when I'm running from you, I wanted to add but kept my mouth shut.
Then he seemed to take an interest in Scott again, "Hold on. McCall. You're the Scott that was dating my granddaughter."
Scott tensed up, "We were dating but not anymore. Not dating, not seeing any of each other or doing anything with each other - At all." I groaned inwardly at his stammering. We're so going to die. At school. In this awful office.
"Relax, Scott." Gerard rubbed his chin a bit amused, "You look like you're about to crack a cyanide pill with your teeth."
"Just a hard breakup." Scott squeaked.
"Oh, that's too bad. You seem like a pretty nice kid to me." He leaned back in his chair and looked between the two boys. I was relieved that I wasn't a subject of interest anymore. "Now listen, guys. Yes, I am the principal, but I really don't want you to think of me as the enemy."
'Is that so?' I muttered under my breath. Damn, the hairs on my arms and neck were standing upright. Everything about this old man screamed for me to run the other way.
"However," He continued, "this being my first day, I do need to support my teachers. So, unfortunately, someone is going to have to take the fall and stay behind for detention." He tilted his head towards me, "You, however, Riley, are free to go. I do believe Mr Harris mentioned you before. You're by far his favourite student."
"Thank you." My voice came out hoarse, "I try."
"And thank you for your hard work. You may return to class."
I didn't let him tell me twice. I was on my feet in a flash and made a bolt for the door. Once I've left the wolf's lair, I swore the hallway was the most beautiful sight I've ever seen.
It wasn't long until Scott nearly fell out of the principal's office and raced past me down the hall. So Stiles decided to take the fall for detention. Ever the good friend. But I also realized that Scott was rushing after something, and in a beat, I followed after him. My brother would be alright.
Scott threw the doors of the school entrance open and was just in time to see a police car drive away with Isaac in the backseat. He stared at us through the window with an unreadable expression. However, the longer I looked at him, the more I pitied him. An abusive father who's now dead, no mother, no siblings so far I knew, and now he was a suspect to his own father's murder. Again I had this gut feeling that he was innocent - exactly like the feeling I got when we thought Derek killed his sister.
"So, any ideas?" I asked Scott, who was still staring at the car driving off.
He sighed and shook his head, "None so far. You?"
"Does killing Derek count?"
As if saying his name summoned him, a black Camaro screeched to a halt where the police car was parked seconds ago. Speak of the devil - whose mate's pissed at him. The window rolled down and he looked at us through gleaming dark shades, "Get in."
Just looking at him made me want to rip those shades off his face and shove them down his throat, "How about no?"
His brows furrowed, "What do you mean?"
"I mean no. You want me to say it in Spanish? Noh." I crossed my arms in ire, "You bit Isaac. This is your fault."
I saw his jaw clenching as he grew impatient, "I know that. Just get in the car and help me."
"No, I've got a better idea." Scott descended the steps and approached the car, "I'm gonna call a lawyer. Because a lawyer might actually have a chance at getting him out before the moon goes up."
"Not when they do a real search of the house."
Although I wasn't even in the mood to speak to him, that piqued my interest, as well as Scott's, "What do you mean?"
"Whatever Jackson said to the cops," He paused and looked between Scott and I, "what's in the house is worse. A lot worse."
Derek leaned over and opened the passenger door, indicating that we should get in. Scott seemed to think about it for a second before giving in. But instead of getting into the passenger side, he slipped into the backseat, probably assuming that I wanted to sit next to Derek. But I remained at the top of the stairs, arms still crossed, jaw still clenched, still murdering Derek in my thoughts.
"Riley, we don't have much time." Derek stressed impatiently from behind the wheel, "Can we talk about whatever's bothering you later?"
"I don't know, Derek, can we?" I tapped my chin in thought, "Later, as in, during the full moon? When you promised you'll be with me, keeping me from shifting and losing control. But now you have Isaac to worry about as well. I just don't see this working out."
He sighed, "Look, I'm sorry, okay? This isn't exactly going as I planned, but there's still time to fix things. But I need you both to help me. Please?"
I huffed and dragged my feet over to the car. But instead of getting into the passenger seat, I slammed the door close and joined Scott in the backseat. Derek gave me an incredulous look which I returned with one that screamed 'we're not done talking about this'. Then he emitted a long breath before hitting the gas and speeding off.
It was already dark when we arrived at Isaac's house. Actually, we arrived hours ago but had to wait until nightfall before we could break in to avoid people seeing us and calling the cops. Despite having enhanced senses, night vision to be precise, Scott had a flashlight in his hand and beamed it around the walls of the house. It seemed like a normal residence to me; normal kitchen, normal furniture, normal wallpaper, normal everything. The only thing out of the ordinary was the fact that Isaac lived across from Jackson - damn asshole.
I clenched my hands into fists, only to release them after a few seconds and flexing my fingers. My throat was raw and dry from all the nervous swallowing, and my teeth ached from the gritting. The moon was less than an hour away from showing, and then...
"Hey." A warm hand gently wrapped around my arm and made me stop. Derek's eyes met mine in concern, "You're nervous."
"Oh, I'm glad you noticed." My voice was sharper than usual, "Maybe I wouldn't be if I was maybe at home. With my mate. Who promised that he'd be keeping an eye on me during my first full moon."
"Technically, I am keeping an eye on you."
"That's not what I meant, Derek!" I whisper-shouted at him.
Derek pursed his lips before looking up at Scott, who's been awkwardly standing by and listening to an argument unravel, "We'll be right back. Stay here and don't move."
Scott only nodded and Derek led me to another room of the house by the arm. It was the living room. More normal furniture, normal sized TV, normal wallpaper. Isaac Lahey was just another normal teenager to me yesterday. But now I knew that he used this normality as a cover to hide what was really going on behind closed doors.
Derek crossed his arms as he looked at me, "Alright, what's really bothering you? Is it the full moon?"
"Yes... and no." I raked my fingers through my hair before staring at him in slight betrayal, "I thought you agreed on telling me when you planned on turning people. I found out about Isaac after I sensed another werewolf at school. Do you have any idea how pissed I am at you?"
"Look, I already gave him the bite before I agreed to your deal."
"You could've still told me!" I exclaimed, "And I thought you were choosing people off the street - not high school kids with their whole lives ahead of them. Did you even tell him about the hunters? Does Isaac know that he's probably being hunted down this very moment?"
"I told him about the hunters and he still agreed."
"What?"
He inhaled slowly, "I gave him a choice and he agreed. What, you think I would just bite a person without their consent?"
Well, Jackson asked for it and I guess Isaac wanted a bit of power due to his abusive father. It made sense... but it didn't make it okay. "And what about the full moon tonight? Isaac can't control it. He's either going to kill someone or get himself killed by hunters."
"Which is why we need to do this if we're going to help him." Derek pointed out. He took a step towards me and cupped my face, "I'm sorry for not telling you. And if you still want me to chain you up or something, I'll do it. But first, we need to help Isaac."
I was conflicted. A part of what he said, made sense. The other part though... I still wanted to punch him. But what he said about helping Isaac first, was the part I agreed with. If Isaac gets hurt or hurts someone else, it would be my fault just as much as Derek's if I refused to help him. It was the right thing to do.
"What do we need to do?" I gave in.
Derek breathed in relief and pressed a kiss on my head. He intertwined our fingers and led the way back to Scott. The latter was still standing right where he was told to, flashing the light around the house in complete and utter interest. I couldn't help but snort. He obviously heard the whole conversation and was desperately trying to seem like he didn't.
Scott straightened up when we passed him, "So, uh, if Isaac didn't kill his father, who did?"
"I don't know yet." Derek muttered as we stalked through a narrow, dark hallway.
"Then how do you know he's telling the truth?"
"Because I trust my senses." He arched a brow, "And it's a combination of them. Not just your... sense of smell."
Scott paused and his shoulder tensed up, "You saw the lacrosse thing today."
Derek nodded, "Yeah."
"Did it look that bad?"
I nodded that time, "Yeah."
That was one thing that I could agree on with Derek. What happened today on the field was worse than watching the fake acting on WWE. Scott's expression was completely offended, but I didn't care much. If he accepted Derek's training off all those weeks ago, maybe he'd be able to sniff out werewolves without ramming them to the ground. Me, on the other hand, had no idea what I was doing. Seemed like my 'supernatural abilities' only worked when they saw it fit.
We stopped in front of a door and Derek cautiously pushed it open. A narrow set of stairs led down to a basement. The only light provided, was the dim beam of a streetlamp that came through a small window near the ceiling. I felt a shiver creep down my spine at the negative feeling I got from the place. How could this have anything to do with helping Isaac?
"You wanna learn?" Derek's voice sounded behind Scott and me as he gestured down the stairs.
Scott swallowed, "What's down there?"
"Motive."
I tilted my head to see how far the basement stretched, not liking it in the least, "What are we supposed to be looking for?"
His warm hand rested on my shoulder, "Tonight we figure out what you are. And we're doing that by triggering all your senses, see to what limit they stretch. Whatever is down there, you'll find it. Just follow your senses."
Scott and I exchanged brief glances, both realizing that we didn't have a choice to go down there if we wanted to find out the truth about Isaac. He stepped aside and allowed me to descend the stairs first - I had no idea if it was because he was scared or a gentleman, but whatever.
The steps creaked as I stepped on them, the sound making my skin crawl. The deeper we descended into the basement, the more it felt like a torture chamber if I had to give it a specific description. It reminded me of the bunker under the Hale House where Kate kept us.
The floor was scattered with clutter and junk, and random objects lined the walls. In one corner stood a dusty chair with a creepy doll sitting on it. Damn Stiles for forcing me to watch The Seed of Chucky when we were younger... But the rest of the room seemed to be a mess, however, and I had no idea how my senses were supposed to find something in here.
"What happened down here?" Scott muttered as he ran his hands over random objects.
"The kind of thing that leaves an impression." Derek's voice came from somewhere behind us, "Sensed anything yet, Riley?"
I shrugged and eyed the creepy doll warily, "They didn't have a maid?"
"Come on, focus. Use your senses."
"I am!" I threw my hands in the air, "I'm seeing a creepy doll and feeling a need to go home and chain myself up. This isn't as easy for me as it is for you and Scott. I have no idea what I'm doing."
Derek advanced towards me and rested his hands on my arms to keep me in one place. His green orbs were grey in the darkness of the room and I could only see them gleaming in the dim light, "Close your eyes."
"Why?"
"Just do it." I sighed and allowed my eyes to fall close. Derek's hands rotated me to face the other way. My breath hitched when his voice vibrated against my ear, "Now focus. Try using all your senses at once, but rely on those that are the strongest." His hands glided down my arms, "You should feel a pull - like a magnet. That's how you'll know what to look for. Now take a deep breath and... focus."
His hands withdrew from me and I felt his presence behind me disappear. This was stupid. But it wasn't like I had any better ideas. I inhaled deeply, held my breath for a second or two, before slowly exhaling and imagined my 'senses' to 'open up'. At first, nothing happened. I was just standing there in the middle of a creepy basement with a creepy doll with my eyes closed. That was violating every horror movie rule ever made: basement + doll + darkness + closed eyes = dwindling chances of survival for the naive, little virgin.
I'm great at math.
I sighed and dropped my hands at my sides in exaggeration, "This is pointless! All I'm sensing is I'm hungry and want to go -" I paused mid-sentence and frowned, eyes still closed.
I felt something.
I tilted my head to the right and the feeling disappeared. I reversed to the left and it was back. It was exactly like Derek described it would feel - a magnetic pull. Slight, but it was there.
I took a hesitant step forward while keeping my eyes closed. My hands held onto objects on the side to avoid bumping into things. But then something entirely new happened that made me extract my hands in a flash and jump back.
"Riley?" Scott eyed me, confused.
"Did you hear that?" I stammered and stared at the object the closest to me - a broken mirror.
"Heard what?" Derek asked as he followed my eyes to the mirror. It was broken and missing an entire piece in the middle.
I swallowed, "The whispers..."
My hands tucked the hair behind my ears before I sank to my knees. Cautiously, I extended an arm and touched the mirror once again...
"Nonononononononononono..."
"IsaacIsaacIsaacIsaacIsaacIsaac..."
"I'msorryI'msorry..."
"Please..."
"Nononono!"
I withdrew my hand with wide eyes, "It... when I... you didn't hear it?" The two of them only stared at me with brows knitted together. Scott even touched the mirror himself, scrunching his face when he didn't hear the voices.
I shook their baffled looks when something on the concrete floor caught my eye. In the dim light, a faint set of scratch marks were visible. I reached out and ran my fingers over it. The marks weren't deep, merely thin white lines made by a normal person's nails. However, I barely traced them again when my vision was clouded with a scene of a man dragging a boy by his feet...
I gasped and yanked my hand back, clutching it to my chest.
"What?" Derek's voice sounded close behind me, "Did you sense something?"
I nodded speechlessly and swallowed. My hand brushed over the marks again and the vision returned. This time, I could make out the people's faces; Isaac and his dad. The latter dragged Isaac across the floor while Isaac thrashed and kicked in his father's grip. He clawed at the floor and left the particular marks behind that I was looking at.
I jerked my head up in the direction of which Isaac was being dragged to. The only thing that caught my eye was a large box-like freezer.
Slowly I approached it, too afraid to even touch it. Somehow the freezer felt... off.
"Open it." Derek told me and held the flashlight up above the freezer.
I drew a shaky breath before unhooking the lock and lifting the lid. Scott's breath came out in low huffs in his throat and he wore a similar expression like I did. The inside of the freezer was decorated with more scratch marks on the bottom, on the sides, and even on the roof of the lid. A bloodstain here and there as well.
I almost dropped the lid when another vision flashed in front of me - one of Isaac's father hauling him into the freezer before closing and locking it... "This is why he said yes to you."
Derek stared at me intently and confirmed, "Everyone wants power."
Scott clenched his jaw as if he was having an internal debate with himself. He glowered at Derek, "If we help you, then you have to stop. You can't just go around turning people into werewolves."
"Technically, he can." I pointed out dully but sided with my friend anyway, "But I agree with Scott on this one, Derek. I know you need a pack to become stronger, but you can do better than teenagers with their whole lives ahead of them."
"And did you tell him about the Argents?" Scott stressed on, "About being hunted."
Derek nodded, "Yes, and he still asked."
"Then he's an idiot."
"And you're the idiot dating the Argent's daughter." Scott paused and stared at Derek like a deer in headlights, "Yeah. I know your little secret. And if I know, how long do you think it's gonna take for them to find out?" He grabbed Scott's shoulder urgently, "You saw what happens to an omega. With me, you learn how to use all of your senses. With me, you learn control." Derek raised Scott's hand in the air, revealing that his claws were already growing under the influence of the full moon, and then glanced at me too, "Even on a full moon."
Scott yanked his hand out of his grip and gritted on his teeth, "If I'm with you, I lose her."
"You're gonna lose her anyway." He gave Scott the cold, hard truth, "You know that."
I caught Scott clenching his hands into fists to hide his claws. My throat swelled in anticipation and my eyes darted to my own fingers - they were still normal, filed short, still the muddy marshmallow pink I painted them. How long before they'll start growing and expanding into razor sharp claws? How long until my eyes start glowing and a set of fangs poke at my lips? The tension was eating me alive and I could hardly focus on the Isaac-task at hand.
"I'm not part of your pack." Scott told Derek before we could leave, "But I want him out. He's my responsibility too."
I swallowed while nodding, "And mine."
"Why? Because he's one of us?" Derek inquired when he paused at the bottom of the stairs.
"Because he's innocent." I blurted out, "I felt it. And because I'm your mate. I'm automatically involved in anything you do. If something happens to Isaac while I could've done something about it, it will be my fault as much as it's already yours." I stole a glance at the tiny window and caught the full moon shining menacingly in the sky. I pushed my fear aside and face the two guys with new determination, "So, what are we waiting for? We got a jail bail to organize."
I could be mistaken, but I caught a small glint of pride in Derek's eyes after my little speech. "Do you have a plan."
Did I have a plan? He was forgetting I'm a Stilinski - I always have a plan. Thought not always good ones... I nodded, "Yes. But It's probably going to get us in trouble."
Those were the best kind of plans.
"This is a very bad idea." Stiles drew out when we parked in front of the station.
That was the third time he said that since he picked us up from Isaac's house, and by now I was starting to believe him. This was indeed one of the worst ideas I've ever had. There were about three police cars parked outside the station, but I knew that sometimes it was just for show. The chance was fifty-fifty that the cops on duty were either out eating doughnuts or napping somewhere inside. The only problem was standing behind the front desk, sipping a mug of coffee.
"Okay, now the keys to every cell are in a password protected lock-box in my father's office. The problem is getting past the front desk." I explained and pointed at the deputy pacing around in the station.
"Don't even think about distracting her." Stiles muttered to me, "Everyone at the station knows us. We need to find another way in, through the back maybe. Or we could set off the alarm of one of the buildings on the street..."
"I'll distract her."
Both our heads jerked to Derek. He, however, didn't catch the looks of pure bewilderment we sent him and was already on his way of getting out of the jeep. Stiles grabbed onto his jacket and pulled him back, "Whoa, whoa, whoa - you? You're not going in there." Derek clenched his jaw and glared at my brother's hand on his shoulder. Stiles quickly removed it, like he would bite any second, "I'm taking my hand off."
"I was exonerated." Derek stated a-matter-of-factly.
"Yes, you were." I agreed before pointing out, "But you're still a person of interest. The body in the woods, the attack at the school - ring a bell?"
He arched his brows at me, "It doesn't change the fact that I'm innocent."
I shrugged, accepting his point. Hey, it wasn't like we had any better ideas. Having Derek distracting the deputy was way better than setting off the alarm of a building and attracting the entire station to the scene. And not to mention the trouble we'll get into when Dad finds out it was his kids - again.
Stiles sighed in annoyance, "Okay, fine. What's your plan?"
Derek looked at him like he grew a third eye, "To distract her."
"Uh-huh. How?" My brother pushed, "By punching her in the face? Riley has a better chance at seducing her!"
"Not this again." I muttered and remembered his plan for me to seduce Derek when we got him arrested that day, "We've been over this; I'm as seductive as a potato!"
I flinched back when Derek suddenly spun around to face me. He had this look in his eyes that told me he'd beg the differ. My brows furrowed as I shook my head at him, confirming that I had no idea how to flirt, seduce, or whatever went hand-in-hand with that. I'd probably end up complementing him on his fur or something if he asked me to talk dirty to him.
Stiles pursed his lips, "Okay, all right. Give me a sample. What are you gonna open with?" Derek turned in his seat and gave my brother a silent look. We waited in anticipation for him to share his brilliant opening line, but nothing followed. Stiles nodded, "Dead silence. That should work beautifully. Any other ideas?"
I threw my head back in despair at how hopeless they were, "How about I just go hijack a doughnut truck and drive down the street? Just..." I looked at my brother, "You, shut up. And you," I looked at Derek, "go in there and say the first thing that pops into your one-track mind. Leave the rest to me."
They opened their mouths to protest, but I wasn't having any of it. I nearly kicked Derek out of the jeep and made him march up to the station, while dragging Stiles out by his shirt. We waited in the lobby for Derek to start his distraction. He turned to me and hauled up his shoulders, silently asking what the hell to do. I threw my hands up, signalling him that I didn't know and that he should figure it out.
I left him to think of something and whispered to Stiles, "Once she's distracted, try subtly making your way to the holding cells. I'll get the keys."
"Why did you emphasize the word 'subtle' so much?" Stiles scrunched his nose, "I can be subtle!"
"Stiles, you're as subtle as Bambi on ice." I sighed and inched closer to the door, "Just try not to get caught."
We fell silent when Derek finally strolled towards the front desk. He lazily drummed his fingers over the surface and tried acting as nonchalant as possible - big, buff, leather-clothed guy with spiked up hair and a handsome stubble acting nonchalant? More like silently daring someone to strike up a conversation and give him their number.
"Good evening. How can I help..." When the deputy looked up from her coffee, she froze like a deer in headlights, "... you?"
Derek's face lit up in a charming smile and I swore I saw her knees wobble through the desk, "Hi. Uh, I had a question..." He breathed a laugh and glanced down that the floor before meeting her eyes again, "Um, sorry I'm a little - a little thrown. I wasn't really expecting someone –"
"Like me?" She blushed and flashed him a toothy smile.
"Oh, I was gonna say 'so incredibly beautiful' but, yeah, I guess that'd be the same thing."
I gritted on my teeth while I watched the exchange of charming smiles, little chuckles, and she even had the nerve to bite her bottom lip while looking up at him through her lashes. That was what came into his head? Distract her through flirting? My nails dug into my palms as I tried reminding myself that it was fake. Derek didn't flirt, not with me, not with anyone. He just wasn't a flirty guy.
"You know," He chuckled and beamed at the deputy, "I completely forgot what I came here for anyway. But why don't you give me your number? I'd like to, you know, call you. For emergencies or... something."
Oh no, he didn't.
I swallowed. My hands shook. I was breathing dangerously slow.
He used our little line. That's what I said when we exchanged numbers at the beginning. That was like Peter Parker Spider-Man-kissing Gwen Stacy instead of MJ!
The deputy bit her lip once again and eagerly nodded. While she was hunched over the desk with her eyes cast downward, Derek peered over his shoulder at me. He signaled me to go while she was more than distracted. I shook the need to flip him off and soundlessly padded past the desk and into Dad's office. Could relationships get any more complicated? Or was it just werewolf relationships that had all these ups and downs?
I didn't waste any time to enter the code into the lock-box behind Dad's desk. However, after opening the tiny door, I was baffled to discover that the keys to the holding cells were already gone. Dad never kept them with him, always left them here. But if they're not here, then where were they?
Then, out of nowhere, the stench of blood hit me like a bus. My heart dropped to my stomach when the first thought I had was that Isaac escaped and killed someone. I whiffed the air and hastily followed the scent down the hall towards the holding cells. However, upon rounding a corner, I found both the source and the owner of the blood.
A man was frozen in the dim light of the hallway, staring at me like I was the suspect to a murder. My eyes fell on his leg where half of an arrow stuck out before meeting his gaze again. But I noticed the little container in his hand, and just by glimpsing at it, I discovered that it felt off somehow. I knew every officer that worked under my dad, and I've never seen this man before. And while he was wounded and carried something that gave me this uneasy feeling, I was willing to bet that he was sent by the Argents to kill Isaac.
The man's eyes darkened before his arms shot out towards me. I was too late to dodge his limbs, and in a beat, the man had me pressed against him while holding my arms behind my back in a submission hold. I bit back my cries for help, thinking that it would both alert the irritating deputy and make Derek think I can't handle a simple one-on-one fight.
I was shoved into the room with the cells and slid across the floor. In a flash, I was on my feet and ready to fight the man if I had to. However, he wasn't focused on me anymore. I followed his wide-eyed gaze to one of the cells - its door was broken clean off its hinges and whoever was inside, was now gone.
"Shit..." I muttered when I realized that it used to be Isaac's cell.
But just when I expected it the least, a blood-chilling growl bounced off the walls of my left. I was just in time to dodge a fully shifted Isaac jumping from the shadows to attack the man. Isaac slammed him down a table, only to lift him up and throw him against the wall. I held my breath when the man raised his hand, now holding a syringe that contained a dark liquid. Before he could jab it at Isaac, the teenager grabbed his hand and twisted it to the side. A sickening crack echoed through the room and merged with the man's agonizing cries. For good measure, Isaac slammed his head against the wall, knocking him out cold.
But with the lack of a threat, that only meant that he would target me next. Isaac emitted a deep growl when he slowly turned to face me. I swallowed, knowing that I'd have to fight him off alone until Derek showed up. This was entirely different than sparring with Derek in the forest - this time I was actually fighting to survive.
Isaac stalked towards me with bared fangs. My thoughts drifted off to that omega in the woods, how scared he was of me. Could that work on all werewolves? I could only hope...
I held my ground and straightened up, pushing my shoulders back as I stared him down. Isaac stopped about two feet from me. Out of the blue, he drew a breath before letting a blood-congealing roar rip through him. I squinted my eyes and fought against flinching back. The roar lasted about ten seconds before it died down.
I blinked and wiped a few drops of saliva off my cheeks while pulling a disgusted face, "Really?" I opened my mouth to make a comment on getting him some werewolf Tic Tacs, but an invisible force suddenly pressed down my chest. It felt like something between a stubborn cough and a heartburn, and before I could stop it, it burst through me and I roared.
I roared.
Or howled.
Whatever werewolves did.
The walls and cells shook, the clutter on the table rattled, and the lights flickered in distress above us, and everything I saw was drowned in purple light. Isaac flinched back and curled up into a ball against the wall. His arms covered his head as he tried draining out the sound, while his whole form shook uncontrollably.
When it ended, I threw myself back and landed on the floor, panting like I ran a thousand miles. I was lightheaded, my hands and feet were pins and needles, and my senses were all alive. Isaac was glowing the same muddy blue like he did at school, his features were replaced with a heat signature, and I could feel the sound of his rapid breaths vibrating against my skin.
When I've gotten over the worst shock of what just occurred, I noticed how utterly scared he was. Instantly I felt bad. He grew up with an abusive father who locked him in a freezer, and here I was, adding to his fear.
I scurried to my feet and half-crawled, half-tip-toed over to him. When I extended a hand towards him, he pressed himself even deeper into the wall. I tried smiling, "It's okay, Isaac. I won't hurt you. I want to help you."
His teeth clattered when he turned his head to look at me, fully shifted back to human, "What... what are you?"
What are you? That's exactly what that omega asked me just before he tried getting away from me. Was I really that terrifying? Ironic that I could wonder that. I haven't exactly seen myself in the mirror while my eyes glowed their so-called purple.
"I'm like you." I finally replied, "Scared and confused. But I can help you if you'll allow me."
I tried smiling again and frowned when he flinched back again. After a moment of consideration, Isaac finally extended a shaky hand and hesitantly took mine. I pulled him to his feet and noticed the muddy blue glow change to orange. It was weird, frightening even, and I had no idea what it meant.
"You okay?" I asked sincerely and searched his face for any signs of more shifting.
Isaac swallowed as he stared at me with eyes as big as UFO's, "Your... your eyes..."
There wasn't time to wonder about it. The door swung open and a very troubled Stiles and a anxious Derek piled into the room. They paused in the doorway and their gazes shifted from the destroyed cell to the unconscious man to Isaac and then to me. And that's where they remained.
"You howled." Derek blurted out.
I hauled up my shoulder, "It just came out. I had no control over it."
"You controlled Isaac."
"Again," I repeated, "no control. No idea what I'm doing."
"Riley..." Stiles chocked, "I think you'd better look in the mirror."
I blinked and furrowed my brows at him. Then slowly, I padded over to Isaac's cell and stopped in front of the grimy mirror.
My breath hitched.
My heart dropped.
All color drained from my face.
Even through the grimy mirror, I couldn't mistake the reflection staring back at me. It wasn't the purple eyes that bewildered me. Not the way how they glowed and almost overwhelmed the light in the cell. In fact, my eyes weren't the things that frightened me.
It was the double set of fangs peeking from my lips and the strange markings at the sides of my neck, running all the way down to my hands.