Disclaimer: Of the things I own, the show Teen Wolf is not among them. Not that I wouldn't thoroughly enjoy owning Derek Hale. It really is unfortunate that slavery is illegal.
"Being a demigod sucked. That was one fact that had been established, verified, confirmed, and double checked. Being a demigod daughter of Artemis meant that most of the world wanted you dead because you weren't supposed to be born in the first place. Being a demigod daughter of Artemis who shouldn't have been born in the first place who's "normal" parent was a Shadowhunter who was now very dead br /gave you the automatic birth right to the words FML.
Kyla Drawright was the proud possessor of those rights. Her life thus far had been a succession of wars, running, fighting, and just generally trying to continue her existence. This way of living had made Kyla very careful of the saying "it can't get any worse." Things could pretty much always get worse.
Kyla was contemplating weather this made her an optimist or a pessimist when her life took another bizzar turn. Weather that turn was for better or worse really depended on weather you were an optimist or a pessimist. Irony was another factor that made up a really stunning percentage of her life.
Walking home alone after dark in Beacon Hills was probably a bad idea. In the single month that Kyla had lived in the town, there had been more animal attacks and unexplainable deaths than she could count on her fingers. If there was one thing her mixed heritage had given her, it was the ability to deal with wild animals.
That said, the rather large manticore hurtling out of an alley and towards her head was rather surprising.
Kyla ducked a spike launched from the manticore's tail and rolled across the pavement. She was debating the best way to finish this fight quickly. One of the spikes had grazed her forearm and she could feel the burning poison spreading up towards her shoulder. If she didn't hurry this fight to a resolution, her arm would end up being almost completely unusable until she could treat it. Besides, Kyla wasn't sure what this situation would look like to a mundane, but odds were it wouldn't be easy to explain.
Another spike raced past inches from her ear and Kyla muttered a curse. The manticore (otherwise known as the high school physics teacher Mr. Thorne) had a particular beef with her. Kyla and her mother had both shot arrows into the beast at one point or another. Kyla didn't feel the slightest bit of guilt because he a). Had been trying to kill her at the time and b.) proceeded to kidnap her close friend Annabeth.
"Sighting her opening, Kyla dashed forwards and plunged one of her hunting daggers in to Thorne's throat. With a horrible screech, the creature dissolved in to a pile of dust. The deadly weapons she held collapsed at a press of jewels under the hilt from bronze knives the lengths of her forearms to delicate silver charm bracelets.
As soon as her hands were free, Kyla plunged her hand into her gym bag and took a swig of godly nectar from the emergency thermos she kept. She breathed a sigh of relief as the godly drink began to push the poison from her system. She would have used an iratze, but idly enough her system seemed to be able to distinguish between injuries caused by demons and those caused by Grecian monsters. Injuries had to be treated according to what had caused them. Normally her own system could heal her within minutes, but that night there was no moon, which meant that all of her abilities were much slower than normal./p
"Kyla did her best to kick a glop of manticore slime of her shoe and brushed the monster dust off of her clothes. She held a small pinch of the powder gingerly between her fingers before watching it float away in the dim shine of a street lamp. The lights were on even lower power than normal on account of the recent black out. That was another strange occurrence on top of the animal attacks.
She sighed, and mentally resigned herself to the fact that she was going t have to look in to whatever was causing this stuff. It would have been nice if this "vacation" in Beacon Hills had really been the vacation that her mother had said it would be. After a titan war, a giant war, the battle of Allicante, and the battle of the demon realms, a fashion intervention planned by Magnus and Isabelle, and a very competitive wheat field, an actual vacation would have been really nice.
"Thus perished Mr. Thorne," she muttered. "Sociopathic manticore/ high school physics teacher. Which if you really think about it is basically the same thing. He will not be missed, because as I already said he was a sociopathic manticore/ high school physics teacher. I hope to gods he's not leaving behind any little manticores because Angel know one is enough of a bitch to del with. May he rot in Tartarus for an amount of time equivalent to me never having to deal with him again. Vile goo to vile goo, and monstery dust to monstery dust." She waited for a moment before concluding, "I really need some friends."
She froze as the sound of laughing voices broke through the night. A group of young people around her age or slightly older in neon make up and clothing. They actually wouldn't have looked that far out of place at Pandemonium.
As Kyla drew closer, she could hear the thumping base of dance 's best guess was that someone was utilizing the power outage to throw a party. From all the neon, she would say it was probably a black light party.
Looking down, Kyla gave her appearance a quick once over. She was wearing the black spandex shorts she'd worn to her gymnastics practice, a white tank top that would glow just fine under a black light, and a pair of black Nikes with lime green socks, and her leather shadowhunter gear jacket. Isabelle was forever trying to get her to wear high heels, but Kyla maintained that wearing spikes on the bottoms of your feet was nothing short of masochistic. She could live with being short.
Moving with the quick efficiency of someone who had spent a collective total of nearly a decade living with Isabelle Lightwood, not to mention nearly twelve years of gymnastics, Kyla arranged her auburn hair so that it fell in curtains around her face. Jamming her hand in to her gym bag she made quick use of an eyeliner pencil. She shook her bracelets free of her coat sleeves and extracted her necklace from the top of her tank top. They said accessories made the out fit.
She eyed the door to the industrial loft warily. She stepped inside with a sigh. Fuck it. The worst possible words to justify a decision were 'fuck it'. Bad things happened when you made decisions based on the words 'fuck it'. Jace Herondale was solid proof of that.
A/N: So? What did you guys think? I know that this is a huge combo thing, but I didn't know how to mark this as being a cross of three different things. I hope you guys liked this! I can totally stop if you think it sucked.
!*******VERY IMPORTANT* VERRY IMPORTANT********!
This story will end up being Derek/OC in the end. Let's face it, the guy needs a non-sociopathic girlfriend. I'm starting from the episode Illuminated in season three. BUT if you guys wanted something different I had an idea of where I could start this story with Kyla and a young Derek in the 2nd episode of season 4.
If you guys would like it to start there instead I'll delete this and start again from episode 2 of season 4.