A Legacy's Duty
Summary:
"With every action there is a positive and negative reaction."
The Darach's use of the Nemeton for Blood Magic causes the scales to tip; and Beacon Hills soon finds itself at the center of it all. When it all becomes too much, Deaton gets in touch with an old contact for help.
A person who is not as normal as they appear.
Chapter Three
To Be Damned
Location: Beacon Hills, California
An invisible wave flings the haggard blonde across the clearing, her back slamming against a tree with unforgiving force. She doesn't hesitate as she uses the pressure holding her against the tree trunk to pull her legs up, boot-clad feet pressing flat against the wood. Pushing against the force, she launches herself away from the tree as a shard of pure ice pierces through the bark of the tree. Ducking under the extended arm of the Mage, she barely blinks as her silver blade buries into the man's throat. As her foot plants onto the ground slightly behind his shock-frozen body, she spins again, ripping the blade from his body, her second hand bringing the hilt of her blade between his shoulder blades. As the man crumbles to the ground, a series of piercing howls echo through the Preserve, and it's enough of a distraction for her to move onto the next Mage.
One of the wolves breaks through the brush just as the side of her blade slices along the tendon at the back of a Mage's ankle, bringing the Mage to his knee. Shifting her weight to the ball of her left foot, she whirls around as she simultaneously brings her opposing foot up with the momentum; the top of her foot connecting with the back of the man's neck. She grunts as the Mage lashes out blindly, shards of ice slicing along her extended leg and in return she drives her left blade straight through the side of his neck.
"AJ! Look out!"
Hearing Stiles' warning call out through the clearing, she doesn't hesitate in dropping to her stomach, her body tumbling to the side as she avoids another attack, her right arm cocking back before she lets the second blade fly from her grip. Hearing Ariaya's voice shriek in pain, the blonde smirks as she catches sight of her pinned to a tree trunk.
"Mage's are Elemental Manipulators!" she belts out, even as Ariaya hisses as the handle of AJ's blade burns her hand as she tries to remove it herself.
With Ariaya pinned to a tree, AJ is able to focus on the five remaining Mages. It's obvious the Pack is having trouble; the Argents unfamiliar with this type of fighting, but AJ moves around the distracted Mages. Her blade rip into their bodies as they are so focused on the wolves, her mind never paying attention to the shock and disgust written on a lot of expressions. Seeing movement from the corner of her eye, she reacts and skids to a stop in front of the exposed Stilinski-kid, a shard of ice plunging into her shoulder.
Dropping to her knee, she lets out a groan, her tongue tracing over a cut on the inside of her cheek. Spitting out the blood, she wipes at her mouth with the back of her sword-hand, gaze lifting to the white-haired woman dropping the AJ's sword to the ground at her feet; her hand covered in red burn welts. She takes a step toward the young woman standing over Stiles protectively.
"You have to be really fucking stupid to bring yourself here," AJ spits out, gritting her teeth as she yanks the ice shard from her shoulder.
Ariaya cackles from her place, "I was surprised when I hit your wards. I still have yet to figure out why you still fight for humanity."
"Because I can," AJ shoots back, glaring at the woman.
"Why? Last I checked, Humanity hasn't done you a lick of good. Come on, AJ. All that power and you don't even know how to use it, or don't desire to? Imagine what you can do with it," Ariaya coos, her voice scratching against the blonde's nerves. "You and I aren't all that different. We do what we need to survive. We gather strength in power."
AJ snickers, struggling as she pushes herself to her feet, "You have a point," Several gasps sound from the Pack, "but there is one particular thing that sets us apart." Seeing the orange-eyed woman raise her eyebrow, AJ smirks, "I have friends."
Ariaya's eyebrows crinkle with confusion before she is flung through the air by an invisible force, her back once again planted firmly against a tree trunk. As Ariaya opens her mouth to talk a snap of someone's fingers pierces the air and the white-haired woman finds her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Heaving a sigh of relief, AJ glances off to her left as an ebony-haired woman steps out of the shadows, red-on-black eyes surveying the bodies on the ground before settling upon AJ.
"Sorry I'm late," the woman greets AJ with a wicked smile, "I picked up Ariaya's trail just a few hours ago. When I heard she was headed in this direction, I figured I'd follow."
AJ nods, wincing as the injuries pull from her movements as she straightens her posture, "Take her into custody and detain her for questioning. I'll take care of the SnB's."
The dark-haired woman moves to stand by the bound-and-gagged Ariaya and gives AJ a mocking salute before the two disappear in a flurry of shadows. AJ pays no mind as she turns to the wolves, her eyes blank as she takes in the shocked expressions.
"Christopher," she calls out stiffly, her eyes dropping to her injured shoulder, fingers teasing the wound gingerly. "Are you able to procure a large container of salt and a container of gasoline?"
"W-what for?" Isaac huffs out, looking between the injured woman and Derek specifically.
AJ stares at them blankly and doesn't bother answering as she turns on heel, stalking toward the nearest dead Mage. They watch as she drags each body to the center of the clearing, never asking for help even at the hopeless silence that falls over the group. An air of sorrow surrounds them as she lays them on their back, taking the time to cross their arms over their chest. She pats the pockets of her jacket before removing a handful of golden dollar coins. Without prompting, she kneels next to each of the bodies and places a single golden coin at the center of their foreheads.
"Terra, ignis, aqua caelum,
Unde ad vos venisse dicuntur.
Revertere in loco,
Facultates a dea.
Pone animam tuam in reliquis,
Lorem ipsum dolor sit pax."
Chris returns to the clearing and places the items at the woman's side. She nods curtly before dusting a thin layer of salt over each body, mixing it with sprinkles of gasoline. Locating her stash of matches, she lights one before tossing it on the bodies, barely reacting the the instant flare up for flames as the turns on heel.
"W-why would you do that?" Scott asks, his hand coming to his face to block the stench of burning flesh.
AJ combs her fingers through her hair as she stops just before the group, her body turning to face the funeral pyre, "It is standard procedure to Salt and Burn bodies, in order to lay their spirits to rest and keep their corpses from being used. Mages, especially, have a belief that their souls are to be purified and blessed in order to receive judgment from their Goddess. Their magic was tainted by the witch, Ariaya. This," she waves a hand toward the burning corpses, "is how they would have wanted to be laid to rest."
Chris shifts his weight, grabbing her attention, "I can have my men act as clean up. You kids get out of here."
Snorting at the thought of being considered a kid, AJ nods and turns to head off. Hearing someone call out for her to wait, she pauses mid-step, only to have Stiles appear in front of her. Seeing his wide-eyed expression, so insistent, she cocks an eyebrow. His gaze drops briefly before rising to meet her own again and she takes it as a signal to look down. Seeing her second silver blade carefully clasped in his hand, she can't help the small twitch of her lips as her nimble fingers trail along the sleek surface.
"Thank you. That's the second time you've saved my life."
Meeting his gaze, she bows her head in a respectful manner, "I need no thanks, Stiles. I thought I told you that already."
Without waiting for anyone else to say something, the young blonde disappears in the shadows of the woods. AJ didn't really have time to hang around.
She has a witch to deal with.
Hidden in the shadows of the warehouse, Derek Hale remains silent as he watches the blonde Huntress as she gingerly slips out of her t-shirt, taking the time to check over the injuries along her arms and torso. Even as the witch from earlier, Ariaya, remains seated at the very center of the open room, AJ spares the witch no attention as she burns the tip of a threaded needle. Without flinching, the woman begins to stitch up her injured shoulder, Derek wondering about the almost-serene expression on her face.
A side door opens and the dark-haired woman from earlier enters. Resisting the urge to announce his position, Derek pulls in tightly on his instincts as he catches the familiar scent of sulfur in the air. This is why he is here. This is why he followed the Huntress. A Hunter that considers a demon to be a friend. The demon drops a bag onto the table AJ stands in front of. AJ grants the demon a curt nod as she opens the bag, pulling out a t-shirt that she instantly slips over her head. All of Derek's instincts tense and readies for action as the Huntress begins to remove several different knives, medical forceps, salt, a lighter, and a simple black Sharpie marker. A sickening sensation churns in Derek's stomach as he takes in the way AJ delicately caresses each shiny instrument with soft fingertips.
"Now, Ariaya, you are hereby being prosecuted for your breech of contract with ARC Consultants; the incidents in question resulting in the deaths of at least twelve ARC agents, four Roamers, and no less than five Innocents. You are also being prosecuted for crimes against authority, with the intent on conspiracy with an unknown Black-Listed agent. How do you plead for your crimes?" AJ's voice leaves no room for emotion, causing Derek to shiver as the blonde nonchalantly circles around the bound woman.
"I owe you nothing. We used to be something of worth. Now we pander to humanity. It's sickening."
"We are willing to make you an offer of mercy if you are willing to give us the name of the Black-Listed agent currently targeting this territory," AJ states without inflection.
The witch scoffs, "Like I believe you will grant mercy. How many years ago was it that I was elbows deep in the guts of Lorien Malcolm?"
AJ's eyes narrow, "Hm. I see. Regan," Derek tilts his head at the familiar name, "Tell me what is her given punishment, in regards to her affiliation with this faction of mutinous monsters."
Her dark-haired companion grins, "Eighty Earth Years on the Rack due to her attempt against the Crown. Forty Earth Years on the Rack granted for every soul seeking retribution for her grievous actions."
He watches as AJ motions to her friend and with a wave of a hand, Ariaya is pulled to her feet; arms and legs spread eagle. Picking up the Sharpie, AJ approaches the witch with measured steps, moving to stand before one of the extended arms. Gently gripping the witch by her hand, her eyes never look away from the expanse of skin on display as her teeth pulls the cap off the marker.
"Did you know that skinning a human being is much more tedious than doing so on an animal?" AJ asks, her tone a mixture of matter-of-fact and innocence as she begins making dash marks along the arm. "See, for humans, the skin happens to be the largest organ, covering every millimeter of the body. Now, one must be careful and know precisely where to cut; otherwise the blade will sever those tiny blood vessels that rest just under the top layer of skin."
AJ makes two noticeable marks at the top of the witch's forearm, just underneath the bend of her elbow, "See, the real art of performing this act on humans, is knowing that it is a very slow process, and it must be done in pieces. You can't move too fast, or you'll catch flesh; and that's not the point of this lesson. No. You have to know exactly how deep, and as I'm showing with these dash marks, making the smallest incisions along the way allows air to breath underneath the layer of skin. After all that," AJ pulls away from the various dash marks, grinning up at the woman with far too many teeth displayed, "it is literally nothing to pull the skin from flesh. Do you want to know what is done to keep the exposed flesh from growing a new layer of skin?" AJ points to the container of salt, "Spreading a layer of salt along the exposed flesh...well...that part is particularly painful, but necessary in order to preserve the body as is."
Derek swallows back the bile in his throat as AJ steps away from the witch, before she moves to the table. Capping the marker, she sets it down before picking up a long, thin-bladed knife; the razor-edged blade smooth and without any ridges. She holds it up to the light, inspecting it as she carefully drags the flat of her finger across the flat of the blade.
"You do know that what I am about to attempt on you is only the first torture style demons favor in the Pit. One month on Earth is equal to ten years in Hell. There are twelve months in an Earth Year. Eighty Earth Years paid by blood, tears and flesh, and that's just for your crimes against the Crown," AJ states, her voice soft as she turns slowly to face the witch.
"Wait!" Ariaya shrieks as AJ takes a step toward her, "I don't know who the faction leader is, but my Master is Braxius. He commanded me to summon a group of Mages and scout the area. Th-The absolute power that radiates from this town is intoxicating. If it wasn't for your wards, I would have felt it before I hit the town's boundaries."
AJ hums, taking another step forward, "You really think I believe that's all you know?"
Ariaya struggles to move, "The faction leader uses enforcers to do his dirty work, to assess the situation and track down whatever ingredients are needed for the spell work. No one but his inner circle knows who-"
Derek flinches as AJ buries the blade in the witch's throat, her blue-flecked green eyes cold, "I am granting you a mercy you don't deserve. May your soul be devoured by the hands of Hell."
AJ pulls away as the body crumbles to the ground at her feet and after a brief glance at it, the blonde turns on heel and approaches the table once more. Regan watches her from the corner of her eye as AJ places the blood-coated knife on the table; fingers trembling and head bowed with what looks like defeat.
"You know we can't save them all, Lis," Derek's ear twitches at the name. "Sometimes, they are just too corrupted to be helped."
Removing a packet of wipes from the bag, AJ is silent as she begins cleaning the blood off her hands, "I know."
"Why so glum, chum? You know it had to be done."
AJ drops the blood-stained wipe on the table before she begins cleaning off the used knife, "I didn't want to show her mercy. I wanted to make her suffer. For everyone she hurt, for Lorien Malcolm and others like her. I wanted it to be slow, and painful, and I wanted her to feel everything they felt at her hands. We gave that bitch sanctuary, and she slaughtered innocent people!"
Derek swallows thickly at the pure desperation in the blonde's voice. He recognized this type of desperation, pain and anger. He recognizes the guilt and self-hatred. Placing the knife back on the table, AJ places her palms flat on the table and heaves a heavy sigh.
"This is bigger than just this town, even bigger than us. This isn't like any scheme I've heard of," AJ murmurs, the fingers of one hand combing through her hair tiredly.
Regan nods, "Well, we can rule out the possibility of biblical aspirations. I'm sure we would have noticed some kind of warning before now if that was this dick's end game. So...this is probably a power play."
"Ariaya mentioned a spell and ingredients. Do you think you can put some feelers out?"
Regan offers the Huntress a small smile, "I can do that. But tomorrow. Tonight, you and I are going to go, knock back some drinks and try to forget about our worries for just one night."
AJ turns to her friend and even from his hidden place, Derek could see the small, relieved smile, "I'd like that."
Regan pushes AJ toward the side door, "Go on. I'll clean up this mess."
Nodding to her friend, AJ pats the woman on the shoulder before slipping out the door. Derek pulls away from the window and slips into the cover of night.
Never once seeing the red-on-black eyes turn toward the window, the edges of Regan's lips twitching in amusing.
Location: New Orleans, Louisiana
The ringing of a cell phone is barely audible over the smooth jazz band on stage. Turning his gaze from the stage, the lone gentleman at the bar pulls the phone from his pocket and answers the call without looking.
"Yeah? Oh, hey. Yeah, I managed to gather the intel you need. Of course, it was hella easy, mon ami," the man switches to the local slang with a sarcastic air, "Of course I expect my usual payment, upfront when I bring-" He pauses, eyes lighting up with excitement, "Really? Oh, I can't wait. I'm sure I can go through my sources and get you the rest of that stuff. I better be getting double my payment for this shit."
Hanging up, the young man drops a few bills on the table, draining the contents of his glass before he saunters out of the jazz club. Opening up a new text message, the young man grins widely as he types out the message.
I should make it to BH within two weeks.
Good. Get your shit done and get here, as soon as possible. I need someone of your skills to keep a close eye on this troublesome Pack.
Location: Beacon Hills, California
With Regan gone on her personal quest, AJ finds herself sitting in Beacon Hills Memorial Park alone. Her eyes observing the children playing on the various equipment and parents nearby keeping an eye out while simultaneously conversing with each other, she allows her this moment to relax. This is what she is avoiding. Not avoiding as in running in the other direction, but avoiding in order to preserve. Rubbing gently at her aching shoulder, she struggles over the various issues at hand. She would do anything to keep these innocent civilians safe and secure.
She does wonder, about how life would be if she hadn't been born into her life style. If she had been born and ordinary, civilian. She'd have life long friends, who weren't friends with her simply due to circumstance, honor codes, contracts or blood-bonds. She'd live in a regular, two-story house with loving parents instead of being virtually alone. She knows her dad loves her, and would do anything for her, but much like herself, her dad carries his own commitments to the cause. She wouldn't fall into endless nightmares filled with very little hope. She wouldn't have memories that haunt her while she's awake during the day. She wouldn't suffer from the wretched PTSD she's been diagnosed with, her triggers being the most unlikely triggers ever.
Lance always said normality is overrated, but is it really?
"You should be more aware of your surroundings," the sudden words cause her to snap out of her thoughts, gaze quickly focusing on the werewolf standing behind her park bench.
Clicking her tongue against the back of her teeth dismissively, she shrugs, "Regan said she caught the scent of wet dog last night in the warehouse. I should have figured out of all of them, you'd be the cautious one."
"You're not angry about being followed?" Derek asks, his hands shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket.
Snorting at the idea, she shakes her head, "You guys just learned that there are people trying to turn your town into a Devil's Gate and you think I'd be upset about you being cautious around strangers?"
"Allison has mentioned on more than on occasion-"
"That I'm not trustworthy, nor do I trust any of you not to screw shit up. Look, I get it, I do, and I'm not angry. More annoyed, but not angry."
A silence falls over the two, only to be broken by the sound of movement as Derek walks around the side of the bench to sit next to her. She isn't lying, of course. She does understand why she is being followed. She would do the same if their positions were reversed. She just doesn't like the thought of someone witnessing her in her darkest moments.
"I get it, you know," he states, cutting through the silence, "The desire to see that witch suffer. You trusted her and she...betrayed you, at the cost of innocent lives." AJ tilts her head, eyes sliding over to him, "Kate Argent, Chris' sister, seduced me when I was a teenager and used the information to burn the majority of my family alive. She didn't suffer when she died a year ago, but I wish she would have."
AJ nods slowly, "I assume you told them about the torture scenario?"
Wincing, Derek hesitates before dipping his head, "Yes. Most of them are...disturbed at the idea. We...don't agree with such methods. Stiles has been arguing that you aren't that kind of person. Allison says we don't know anything about you and you could very well be that type of person."
Giggling, AJ allows her head to fall back, gaze turns toward the sky, "She's not wrong. Torture isn't exactly something I prefer to do, but aside from Regan and her followers, I'm the only person sanctioned and capable of doing it."
"Sanctioned?"
"I told you, ARC Consultants is mostly underground and invisible to the world around us. You really think I'd allow any of our people to just...torture people? We only allow that duty to people capable of doing it and can be trusted to keep to our Code. The majority of Hunters under contract with us wouldn't know torture if it bit them in the ass, and we like to keep it that way," AJ pauses, glancing at him from the corner of her eyes, "I don't want my people to have that kind of Sin on their hands. If any of us are going to be damned, I'll gladly take the fall. There are some things people shouldn't have to witness."
"You consider yourself damned?" Derek asks, his tone low, but curious.
"Of course I'm damned. I was damned from the moment I started breathing," she snarks, earning a raised eyebrow in response, and a wry grin tugs at her lips as she shrugs her uninjured shoulder, "It's an inside joke with the family."
"Ever consider seeking redemption?"
Cackling with amusement, AJ shakes her head, "Oh hell no. I don't believe in all that, 'you can commit Sin, but asking only for forgiveness will save your soul' bullshit. I haven't done all this shit just to wipe my hands of it when it becomes to difficult. If I'm to be damned for taking on difficult tasks so other people don't have to, then I'll let myself be damned."
"You know..." Derek's lips twitch, his own cynical expression evident on his features, "I don't think many people would agree with that."
"Yeah?" Seeing his nod, she snort, "Well, those people can go fuck themselves."
A huff of surprised amusement slips past his lips.
AJ grins despite herself. Maybe there is something special about this town after all.
Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who read the update! I'm really getting into this story and I promise there IS a plot. EVERYTHING mentioned so far in the story as a way of tying together and will be explained as the story progresses.
Reviewers!
ZizFox: Well, I don't know about 'best', but I'm pleased you enjoy it so much. Thanks again! I look forward to your thoughts on this one.
LLPottle: Your name cuts out due to the (period marks) so I am unable to have your exact name down, but HEY, thanks a bunch! I'm glad you find it interesting. I promise, the next few chapters, while dealing with things going on behind the scene, will focus on AJ and the Pack getting to know each other.
Kaiottic-Rawr: Aww...that was super sweet to think my story is good enough for a personal recommendation, and thank you for that.
If there is ANYTHING you guys want to see; certain characters interact, or type of bonding moments, let me know. I promise, there won't ALWAYS be tension between Allison and AJ (because Allison is awesome!). I don't dislike her character, but from her perspective, unknown Hunters are dangerous (she couldn't even trust her own family). So, please, let me know what you would like to see, what you like and I promise, Regan's character will show up again (she was far too serious in this chapter for my taste, but it was necessary) and cause chaotic harmony in the group (yes...she has that personality trait).
Hope you enjoyed!