Hey guys! No, you're not dreaming, I'm really back after a few months of total silence. What can I say? University, internship, life. Okay fine, I've been kidnapped by aliens! But I'm back now! And I suddenly felt the need to continue this story.

(Attention spoiler ahead: do not read if you haven't seen season 2!)

Maybe it's because I saw season 2 of TW and I absolutely adored it! I mean, every episode was like an electric shock and not at all what I expected. Lots of Derek getting beaten up, but well, he looks good anyway so all forgiven. I did not forgive Stiles getting hit by Grandpa Argent though. Glad he vomited black goo in the end. Serves him right.

Anyway, my story still follows the season 1 plotline, can't change anything now that I've started this way. So I hope you'll still like it.

By the way, I'm looking for a beta-reader so if anyone is up for the task, please PM me :). And please forgive my bad grammar in the meantime!

Bit by bite

Chapter 3: Looking through the glass

The drive to Derek's home was mostly silent. After looking out the window for some time, Camille became quite sick of it. Usually, she enjoyed silent. But the combination of being in a tiny sport car with an alpha werewolf was a little overwhelming. She tried turning on the radio, but one look from Derek stilled her hand.

She didn't hesitate for long though and pushed the button, grinning from ear to ear. Music blasted in the car. It was the sound of Guns n' Roses, "Welcome to the jungle". Derek turned it off. She turned it back on.

Camille saw him sigh deeply, as if reigning in his frustration. But he didn't cut the music off.

She observed his profile thoughtfully. He was undeniably extremely good-looking, although not her type at all. She already had had her share of silent brooding guys and suffices to say, it didn't end well. Besides, she had already sworn to herself that dating was out of the question this year. It usually brought nothing but trouble, and she had enough on her own not to add oil to the fire with unsought boy issues.

Still, nobody said she couldn't enjoy the view.

"Do you need anything?" Derek asked, looking at her sideways.

"Nope," Camille said, smiling a little.

"Are you sure? Because you're looking at me quite intensely."

"So?"

"So nothing. Just wondering."

"Well, keep on doing that."

Camille saw his jaw tense a little. She was being quite frustrating, she knew. But she couldn't help herself. Teasing him was fun. And she had the slight advantage that he needed her help and not the other way around.

They were in the woods now, on a small uneven road. The night was dark as ink, the moon hidden by clouds. They came up to a big mansion; two cars were parked in front of it.

"We're here," said Derek.

"I figured,' Camille responded sarcastically.

He didn't bother commenting and went out of the car. She followed him into the house and into the living room. It looked newly repaint, with brand new furniture, but the ceiling showed traces of blackened wood, as if it had been severely burned.

Four people were in the room. A couple sat on a sofa, the woman burying her face into her hands, while the man patted her back, a black giant with his arms crossed leaning on a wall and… Jackson, sitting on a chair and staring daggers at her. Seriously, what was his problem?

"So this is your pack?" Camille asked.

"Yes," Derek answered, "For now. But I plan on extending it. You already know Jackson, I presume."

Camille smiled sweetly at Jackson who frowned. "Maybe you should reconsider your recruitment skills."

"This is Amy and Nelson, Kiara's parents." He pointed at the couple, completely ignoring her comment, then at the other guy. "And this is Killer."

"Excuse me?"

"Before you ask, yes, that's his real name."

Killer's smile was evil, pure evil, and his eyes glowed yellow. There was no messing around with this one. He really looked like a killer machine. How come he wasn't the alpha, she had no idea.

"Will you really help us find our daughter?" Amy asked, looking at her, tears still flowing.

"Nothing is certain, but I'll do my best," Camille said formally. She had a soft spot for crying mothers, so what?

"Are you sure she can do it?" Jackson asked doubtfully.

"I'm capable of kicking your ass, if that's what you mean," Camille answered back.

"No fighting. We running out of time." For once, she didn't correct Derek on politeness and giving orders. Mainly because he was right.

"Do you have a map and the personal item I asked for?"

"Amy?"

Amy got up and gave her a striped black and blue scarf. The woman was smaller than Camille, pretty for her age, even though the crying didn't do her justice. She looked like someone had torn open her guts and made her eat them back.

Camille knew the feeling. When she took the scarf, she squeezed Amy's hand a little.

"Don't worry. I'm really good at this," she tried to reassure her, which was not something she usually did.

Amy nodded. Hope was written all over her face. No pressure at all…

Her husband gave her the map next. Camille opened it on the ground. It was a map of California. She hoped it'd be enough.

"Turn off the lights and lit up some candles if you have some," Camille demanded.

"Is this a witch thing?" Jackson asked.

"No. It's a "me" thing, it helps me concentrate. Just do as you're told, okay?"

He got up and shouted angrily: "You can't give me orders!"

"Do as she says, Jackson," Derek growled. Needless to say he did.

Once everything was set up, she sat down cross-legged. She wrapped the scarf around her wrist and let her crystal necklace hang over the map.

"Now everyone just shut up and let me do my thing."

Silence met her. She closed her eyes and began focusing. Channeling the feeling of the scarf, the memory of the little girl that was printed into the fabric, she waited for the crystal to react and point a location.

She waited a long time. An hour later, she re-opened her eyes. Sweat was running down her forehead. Her wrists were killing her.

"I'm sorry, I can't find her," Camille finally proclaimed.

"What do you mean you can't find her?" Nelson exclaimed.

Everyone was looking at her with a myriad of emotions: agony, anger, worry and disappointment. Amy was the worst. She looked like she would crumble on the floor anytime soon.

"What I mean is that either she's dead, or there's something blocking my searching spell."

Amy fell on the ground. Her husband immediately came to support her. Both looked at her with reproachful eyes.

"Can't you do something to at least find out which one?" That was Derek.

He was the only one not looking at her like the failure that she was. He seemed to understand her harsh words. Better to prepare for the worse than be disappointed.

"No. I'm sorry but there's nothing else I can do."

Actually, there was. But she wouldn't, couldn't do it no matter the circumstances. That was too dangerous. And it would bring back all the demons that she had fought so hard to keep at bay. The very reason behind her moving to the United States.

"I guess it can't be helped. Thank you for your time. I'll drive you back home." There was no place for argument in Derek's voice.

Camille would have liked to do something, anything to save that little girl that she didn't even know. That little girl who was so much like she once had been. Scared, alone, in danger. Or worse, dead. She closed her eyes for a moment, thinking really hard.

"Actually, I may know of a way to know for sure," she finally whispered.

She didn't like that, but if there was no other way…

"Tell me," Derek said.

"There's someone, someone I don't know personally. She was a friend of my grandmother and I think she lives in Los Angeles. She's a powerful witch. She may know something."

"It's only a few hours' drive."

"I have to warn you though. My gran and her, they didn't part on good terms. I'm not sure if she'd be willing to help at all."

"It's worth a shot."

"Well, I guess it's settled then. But not tonight. I promised my uncle I'd behave, so I can't go on road trips in the middle of the night without giving him any warning. Pick me up after school tomorrow? I'll just tell him I'm meeting a friend in LA."

"He will accept that?"

"We'll see, but I don't think he will cause too much trouble."

"Fine."

"Thank you," Amy interrupted, "Thank you for doing that. I know it's a long shot, and you don't know us. You don't have any obligations towards us. So thank you."

"I'm not doing it for you, I'm doing it for Kiara."

"Thank you anyway."

Camille nodded. What kind of a mess was she getting into?

Later, when she was back in her room and looking at the mirror, the brunette regretted her decision. Her skin was deathly pale and she had bags under her eyes. She looked at her hands. The tattoos were a series of symbols, intricately drawn together. They covered her wrists like bracelets. These binders were here for a reason. Without them, she was naked, vulnerable.

Camille looked into her reflection. The dark hair, the blue eyes. She looked so much like him. It was eerie. Well, he was her twin brother after all...

Well, that's it. Hope you enjoyed it. I actually had another version for this chapter, but I didn't like it.

Another thing, about the werewolf's eyes thing. My theory is that blue is for werewolves who were born as such, yellow for those who were bitten and red for the alphas. Even though we all saw Jackson's eyes turn blue in the season finale, I'll stick to my theory thank you very much!

Thanks again for all the reviews! About the one who said that my character is a Mary Sue, well everybody is entitled to his/her own opinion. But food for thought, aren't nearly all characters in supernatural movies/TV shows/books Mary Sues? And if you criticize something, at least have some arguments to back it up.

See you guys soon (maybe :p)!