Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf.

Over My Dead Body

Week Three – Famine

I heard the third living creature say, "Come!" I looked, and there before me was a black horse! Its rider was holding a pair of scales in his hand. Then I heard what sounded like a voice among the four living creatures, saying, "Two pounds of wheat for a day's wages, and six pounds of barley for a day's wages, and do not damage the oil and the wine."

Revelation 6: 5-6

Allison shifted restlessly, her gaze never straying too far from the double doors of the surgical room of the animal clinic. She quickly glanced at the time on her phone before shoving it back in the pocket of her jacket. It was half an hour after midnight. Over the last two weeks, she realized that each of the Horsemen had only hung around for seven days, wreaked havoc on the town and then left by midnight the following Sunday. So Famine was either coming or was already in Beacon Hills.

And those two weeks had taught her something else – someone else in the pack was next.

She nervously fingered the trigger of her crossbow and, after glancing at the closed doors again, made her way toward the others. Stiles was sitting on the metal surgical table with Deaton tending to the many self-inflicted wounds that littered his arms. They had long since stopped bleeding, but that didn't make them any less gruesome to look at. Lydia stood beside him, one hand resting on the back of his neck and another fisted in the material of his shirt. She could hear her alternate between asking him if he was okay and scolding him for almost making her lose him again.

Allison stopped once she stood beside Scott where he sat. He glanced up at her with a grin as he continued to tell Deaton everything that had happened in the last week. Without pausing, he pulled her down to sit in his lap and continued to tell Deaton what it was like under War's control, describing how he had kidnapped Stiles and aimlessly dragged him all over town. She offered him a shy smile before curling an arm around his neck and leaning against him.

"Yeah," Stiles suddenly interjected. "We ended up at the old Hale house three times. War basically made him bring me all over town for no reason."

Lydia pressed a kiss to his cheek before resting her head on his shoulder as Deaton finished stitching the last cut. "No, there was a reason. She probably knew that Peter and I were looking for you."

"All finished," Deaton declared, snapping his gloves off and throwing them away. He methodically cleaned up and scrubbed his hands before focusing back on the teenagers again. Allison watched as he scanned each of their faces before speaking. "Have any of you wondered what it is exactly that the Horsemen want? They're said to bring about the Apocalypse to the entire world. But, yet, they've specifically targeted Beacon Hills."

Allison frowned and realized that he was right. The strange sickness that Conquest had spread only affected residents of the town and the same thing for the chaos War had caused.

It didn't make any sense.

"Peter said something to me last night, about the reason why he was helping us," Lydia started. She bit her lip and frowned. "He said that this—all of this—was probably a sign for something worse coming."

And almost as if on cue, the double doors burst open and a man stepped into the room, his arms spread out from his sides and a wide attractive grin on his face. Allison leaped to her feet and aimed her crossbow at the man as she slowly moved to shield the others. The man's dark eyes followed her every movement and his grin shifted into a smirk.

"Oh, that's cute," he said, stepping closer to them. Humor danced in the man's bright green eyes as he held Allison's gaze. "You can put the weapon away, girl. I mean no harm."

Allison held her crossbow tight and made no move to lower it as she tore her eyes away from the man's intense gaze. She didn't like what she saw there. It was like he could see into her very soul and read her every secret and desire. She took two measured steps back until she stood beside Scott.

The man smiled almost predatorily, showing off his bright white teeth. He was barefoot, wearing only a pair of black jeans slung low on his hips and no shirt to show off his lightly toned chest and muscled arms. The dark outline of a pair of scales was tattooed on his hip in black ink, peeking out at them from above the waist of his jeans. His dark hair haphazardly stuck up in different directions as if he had lazily dragged his long fingers through the strands. He oozed sex and desire from every pore of his perfectly tanned skin.

Allison's instincts told her not to trust him.

He shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Scott struggled to his feet and warily eyed the man. "Who are you?" he asked.

"I thought that would be obvious," he sighed, dragging a hand through his dark locks again and inadvertently flexing his muscles. "I'm Famine."

At his declaration the tension in the room grew palpable. Allison stood shoulder to shoulder with Scott, her finger tight on the trigger ready to fire as he transformed beside her, eyes smoldering bright alpha red. Behind them Stiles slid off the operating tabled and grabbed Lydia tight in his arms as they clumsily stumbled back further into the room until their backs hit the wall while Deaton seemingly pulled out his metal single stick from out of thin air.

Famine rolled his eyes at them and raised a single dark brow. "Really?"

"How did you get passed the barrier?" Deaton questioned calmly, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

A smirk pulled at the corner of Famine's mouth at his words. "It's a talent," he said, green gaze settled on Allison. He took an experimental step toward her and Scott was there with a roar, shielding her with his body.

"I see," he murmured softly, nodding to himself before looking at Scott. "If I was going to hurt any of you, I'd have done it already, wolf." Famine's gaze shifted to rest on Allison again and he directed his words to her. "I'll be seeing you soon," he promised ominously.

Famine smirked at them before turning and leaving just as suddenly as he had appeared.

OOOOOO

An hour later, after she had dropped Scott at home, Allison slipped through the front door of the apartment and quietly made her way to her room. She quickly showered, scrubbing at the dirt and grime that covered her skin before dressing and sliding into bed.

Allison leaned to turn the lamp off, but movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention and she reacted. Her hand tightly curled around the ring dagger hidden beneath her pillows and she twisted before throwing it across the room in the direction of her unwanted visitor.

He casually plucked the dagger from the air before it could pierce his flesh. "Aren't you just full of surprises," he chuckled, dropping the blade onto the desk beside him with a clatter.

"What do you want?" she spat, keen hunter's eyes tracking his every movement.

Famine strode closer to her, a seductive glint in his eyes. Allison stilled as he sat on the edge of the mattress, her eyes wide as she stared at him. Her heart hammered in her chest as she fought the instinct to either flee or attack. Neither one would do her any good right now.

He leaned in closer to her, one arm pressing into the comforter beside her waist and effectively trapping her where she was. A grin pulled at the corner of his lips as he watched her. "Are you afraid of me, Allison?" he whispered, resting his hand lightly against her neck to feel her pulse thrumming fast beneath the flesh. Famine's breath was cool against her face and smelled faintly sweet and instinctively, against her will, she leaned in closer to him. "Your heart's beating a bit fast," he continued softly, hand traveling up to cup her jaw. "It's okay to be afraid. Most people tend to fear their desires…"

Allison leaned in until she was close enough to press her lips against his in a kiss. Famine watched her, thumb lightly stroking her cheek. Every instinct in her body told her no, but it was like an unknown force had taken over. She leaned in but just before her lips pressed against his, Famine spoke.

"Sleep."

And she fell into a deep slumber under his command.

Famine's arms shot out to wrap around the girl's suddenly limp body before she slid from the mattress and hit her head on the side table. Delicately, he brushed the hair off her forehead as his seductive charms waned. Dark green eyes studied the vulnerability that came with sleep on her young face and a soft smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.

He had missed this.

Missed interacting with them.

Too bad it had to be like this though.

Famine pressed a kiss to her forehead before tucking the girl into bed and turning off the lamp.

"I hope all of your desires are fulfilled, Miss Argent," he murmured softly before disappearing through the window and into the night.

OOOOOO

On the drive to school Monday morning, Allison thought back to the day before. She had woken late, later than she usually allowed herself to sleep, but always wanted to, and had breakfast with her dad like they used to before her mom had died. And then they talked. Just talked. About all of the supernatural happenings of the last few months, about school, her friends, about every little subject and detail or errant thought that passed through her head that she thought was worth mentioning to him. And then they had spent the rest of the day together watching TV shows and movies.

It was almost like before.

Before all of this werewolf and hunter business.

Before the supernatural became her new normal.

And she had missed it. Missed it so much that she didn't know that she had been craving it.

Allison pulled into the school parking lot and turned off the engine before grabbing her bag and getting out of her car. She quickly made her way to the main entrance and navigated the halls and students standing in clusters.

Once she got to her locker, she noticed Scott, Lydia, Stiles, and Isaac were standing there waiting for her. "Hey," she greeted, quickly unlocking her locker and switching out her books.

Scott wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, firmly pressing the length of her body against the hard planes of his. A soft, breathy sigh slipped through her lips at the contact and she leaned back against him. "Hi," he whispered against her ear, his warm breath tickling the sensitive skin there.

A smile pulled at her mouth and Allison let her bag drop to her feet before turning in his arms, throwing her own around his neck. She lifted up on the toes of her boots and pressed a kiss to his mouth. It was only supposed to be a quick peck but it turned into a full on make out session right there in the hallway. His tongue peeked out and lightly traced the seam of her mouth, asking for entrance, and Allison gladly gave it to him. They clawed desperately at each other's clothes, uncaring of where they were or who was watching them. White-hot want coursed through her veins and set fire to her blood and she desperately wanted to do unspeakable things with and to him.

He dragged his mouth from hers with a strangled gasp only to start pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to the skin of her exposed throat. She threw her head back at the feeling of his mouth on her and she never wanted it to end. Eyes half lidded, Allison stared over his head and stiffened in his arms at what she saw.

Lydia merely raised a perfectly sculpted brow at her from where she stood tucked into Stiles' side with Isaac standing beside them, both boys staring with perturbed and slightly uncomfortable expressions on their faces.

An unladylike squeak made its way passed Allison's lips and she started to insistently tap at Scott's shoulder. "Scott. Scott, stop." When he didn't she roughly pushed him away until they stood a foot apart from each other.

Chests heaving as they panted and struggled to breathe, Scott and Allison started at each other in confusion and bewilderment, the last of their lust washed away as they came back to their senses. "What the hell was that?" Scott breathed, his hands hesitantly twitching against hers before he snatched them away.

Allison grabbed them in hers and held tight, gently squeezing in reassurance. "I don't know," she murmured softly, "but I liked it." She offered him a shy smile. His dark eyes quickly swept over her face, searching. She didn't know what it was that he was looking for but she could tell that he had found it in the curve of his mouth and the way the tension in his shoulders slipped away.

Scott pulled her in close again, slipping his arms around her waist, his warm hands splaying across the expanse of her back. He pressed a chaste kiss her forehead and lingered there for a moment before pulling away completely only to take her hand in his. They turned to the others with awkward smiles. Scott shifted his backpack on his shoulder and gave Stiles, Lydia, and Isaac a slight nod. "We'll see you guys later," he said before gently steering Allison away down the hall before one of them said something to embarrass them.

They slowly made their way down the halls hand in hand until they stood outside the door of Allison's first class. Allison pressed a kiss to the corner of Scott's mouth and offered him a small smile that he was quick to return. "I'll see you later," she said, running her free hand up his chest and under his jacket until she found his heart. The pleasant heat of his body seeped into her skin and she felt her own flush at the thought of another, much closer and intimate, way she could have the warmth of his skin on hers.

The sudden darkening of his eyes told her he was having the same thoughts and Allison purposefully stepped away from him, a teasing smile on her face. "Later," she said.

"Later," he echoed, voice dropping an octave and filling with all sorts of promise in just that one word.

OOOOOO

Later turned into much, much later, after Allison had spent her afternoon with Lydia getting ready for the date that she had spontaneously asked Scott to go on with her at lunch and after they had flirted their way through dinner. They had retreated to his empty house afterwards and stumbled up the stairs and into his bedroom, dropping onto the mattress in a messy tangle of limbs and searching lips on skin.

Scott trailed a hot line of kisses down the exposed skin of her throat, drawing out a loud moan from between her parted lips. She ran her fingers through the thick strands of his hair, nails gently scratching at his scalp and making him groan against her flesh, the vibrations sending a pleasurable shiver down her spine to her center.

He suddenly pulled away and a low whimper of disappointment sounded in the back of her throat at the loss of contact. A crooked smile pulled at his mouth and he reached down and pulled her sweater up and off her, leaving Allison in her lacy bra. She sat up and pushed his jacket from his shoulders before ultimately tossing it over onto the growing pile of clothes.

His large warm hands pressed against her skin possessively as they sunk back into the mattress as their lips met again in a mixture of nipping teeth and plunging tongues. A sigh passed her lips as his mouth traveled down her chest, her breasts, and her stomach, leaving behind a blazing trail of fire as he worshipped her body. Greedy fingers clutched at any part of him they could touch as he set her body ablaze before finally finding purchase in the soft fabric of his t-shirt.

She groaned, frustrated, as he pulled away again. "Scott." He just grinned down at her and whipped off his shirt before gathering her in his arms again and dragging her up until their chests were firmly pressed together.

"Yes, Allison?" he murmured, eyes hooded with lust as he watched her.

Allison said nothing, but instead cupped his face with both hands and kissed him again, pouring all of her pent up emotions out in the single action. Everything that she was unable to put into words over the last few weeks was said in that one kiss. All of her love. All of her pain. And all of the hurt that she had felt from all of the things that had happened to them over the last few weeks. Scott returned her kiss with equal fervor, arms banding around her back possessively.

Gradually, their touches and caresses became unhurried and less frenzied but still remained urgent. Their clothes were slipped off piece by piece and the pile on the floor slowly grew in size until there was nothing left between them.

Allison sat astride him, hands pressed to his firm chest. Scott stared up at her with lust and desire in his eyes that was sure to be reflected back in her own. His hands gently skimmed down her shoulders to her breasts and down her abdomen, provoking breathy sighs of pleasure from between her lips, before settling on her hips. He suddenly sat up and kissed her, roughly tugging at her bottom lip with his teeth and making her moan.

"I love you," he murmured against her mouth. She repeated the words back to him, practically moaning them into his ear as he slowly began to enter her.

His fingers flexed on her hips once and then they began to move, setting a slow punishing pace. The sound of their moans and gasps began to fill the room as their movements became more and more frenzied until they were both pushed over the edge and waves of pleasure washed over them.

As they came down from their high, their kisses became softer, less frantic, but their desire for the other didn't wane.

OOOOOO

The rest of the week passed by in a blur until it was suddenly Friday again. Allison idly wondered where all the time had gone as she crossed the nearly empty parking lot to her car. She didn't really mind though since she and her friends had spent almost every night doing something that normal people their age did. One night they had gone bowling, and another they'd had a movie night at Lydia's house. Last night she had spent more time with her father, something she had been craving more and more ever since Jennifer Blake had kidnapped him, and they'd spent the evening together bonding much like they had during their time in France over the summer. And then of course there was the date she and Scott had gone on.

A warm blush colored Allison's cheeks as she thought back on it and desire filled her as her mind filled with images from that night. Thoughts filled with all the wicked things she and Scott had spent the entire night doing, Allison almost missed seeing the sleek black Charger with the tinted windows parked beside her own car. She stopped in her tracks and stared.

She knew that car. She'd seen it almost every time she'd turned, but never here. Never at school.

The cool shiver of fear ran down her spine and Allison resisted the urge to step back as the door opened and the unmistakable tall figure unfolded himself from his car. Famine stood proudly before her, dressed in a black three-piece suit that hugged him in all the right places, shirt open at the throat exposing a hint of his muscular chest, and his dark hair slicked back from his face. A teasing smile spread across his attractive face as he watched her and Allison scowled at the Horseman.

He stepped forward and invaded her space, immediately gathering her in his arms like she was an old friend and Allison stiffened. She struggled in his strong grip, pushing uselessly at his chest. He merely chuckled at her before releasing her and casually leaning back against the door of her car, crossing his legs at the ankle.

A sensual smile played at his mouth, involuntarily drawing her eye, and Allison forced her gaze to his. "So, tell me, Miss Argent, have you been enjoying your week?" he asked.

Allison eyed him suspiciously, immediately on guard. She slowly slid her hand into her bag and curled her fingers around the ring of her dagger. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about all the time you got to spend with your friends, your boyfriend, your father," Famine said, like it was supposed to be obvious. "No dead bodies surfacing. No running around at night chasing a murderer. No supernatural disturbances." He ticked each off on a finger and raised a brow at her. "Sound familiar?"

His words sunk in like a hard pit at the bottom of her stomach and Allison made to step back.

"Stop," he called out, his honeyed voice like a soothing caress against her skin, a soft breeze that ruffled her hair.

The huntress finds herself rooted to the spot, unable to move at his command.

Famine pushed away from her car to stand in front of her again. He reached out to lay a hand on her shoulder and Allison flinched away. He grimaced, artfully ruffling his hair as he did so, and the effect only made him more attractive. "I'm not going to hurt you, Miss Argent. I promise."

A sigh slipped from his lips as he settled his intense gaze on her, a serious look in his eyes. "Haven't you stopped to think about everything that's happened over the past few days, Allison?" he questioned. "In all the days that I've been here, have I hurt anybody or done anything that could be remotely comparable to my dear brother and sister?"

At his words, Allison thought back and could honestly say that she hadn't heard or seen a single thing that would cause alarm, other than the sudden rise in the number of students skipping class or the increase in parties that had been happening. The fact that nothing remotely supernatural had happened was far more concerning than a dead body showing up or the insidious anger that had swept town last week. She tightened her grip around her ring dagger and settled her sharp hunter's eyes on the Horseman.

"If you haven't done anything like Conquest or War did, then what have you been doing?" She smiled a thin, sarcastic smile. "Other than following me of course?"

Famine casually tucked his hands into the pockets of his slacks and tipped his head in acknowledgement, a smirk lifting the corners of his mouth. "I've been keeping a close eye on you and your friends—and of course, spreading my influence to you mortals."

"Your…influence?"

He nodded. "Yes. Why did you think all of your most cherished desires were being fulfilled, Allison?" he asked, green eyes alight with humor. "You were the first I touched after all."

Allison shook her head in denial. No. He had to be lying. That couldn't be true. It was a dream. Just a dream, a figment of her imagination spurred by the encounter at the vet clinic and nothing more…

Famine tipped his head to the side as he watched her, smirk widening infinitesimally across his face. "Did you think that night was just a dream, Allison?" he whispered, his voice a teasing caress. "It wasn't. I was very much in your room, my dear."

"Why?" she breathed, heart thundering in her chest.

"Because you're my target, Miss Argent."

Allison stared at him wide eyed and confused. None of this made any sense. If she was Famine's target like Stiles was Conquest's and Scott War's, then why hadn't he hurt her?

"You're confused," he said, interrupting her thoughts. "That's quite understandable. Allow me to explain. You mortals believe us Horsemen to be bringers of the apocalypse, yes? Well, that's both true and false. My siblings and I are simply entities meant to ensure balance in the world. We each have two sides. On one hand, Conquest can bring incurable sickness and disease, much like you've seen, while on the other he can also end it all so that there is none. War—well, you've seen the chaos that she can cause with just the flick of her wrist. But that's not all she can give to this world. She could spread a peace like you'd never seen." A small smile lifted the corners of Famine's mouth while a dreamlike look glazed his green eyes. "She did it once and it really was quite beautiful…"

Famine seemed to shake himself from his thoughts and he settled his dark gaze on Allison again. "I can make all your desires come to fruition. I can make it so that the very thing that you crave or desire becomes your downfall and the downfall of others until they simply eat you alive and make you into the very monsters that you fear. Or I can make it so that you're satisfied in the best of ways." Famine leered at her with a salacious grin on his face before it was washed away by humor.

"And what about Death?" Allison asked when he said nothing else.

His expression sobered and he settled her with a somber look. "She can bring down worse than anything the other three of us combined could come up with, making it look like child's play…or she can breathe life into the world." Famine glanced around them, almost as if to make sure they were alone even though she was pretty sure they were, before focusing his intense gaze on her again. "You should know that I was sent here to kill you, Allison, and make you take all of your friends down with you while I was at it."

Allison finally pulled the ring dagger from her bag and pressed the sharp point to his exposed Adam's apple. She glared up at Famine, daring him to give her a reason, any reason, to attack. "Then why haven't you?" she growled lowly.

Famine pressed forward, uncaring of the blade at his throat, his dark gaze suddenly flat with no emotion for the first time since she had encountered the Horseman. Before she could react, he had disarmed her, the dagger held firmly in one hand, while the other twisted her arm around her back. He dragged her forward until their chests were pressed tightly together. "Because I'm not a mindless drone," he snarled viciously. "My dear sister means harm to your banshee, hunter, and no one should suffer as she has envisioned in her dark machinations."

He shoved her away and Allison stumbled back with a gasp. Famine tossed something at her and she scrambled to catch the item. "If you care for your banshee, Miss Argent, I suggest putting that around her neck and ensuring that she does not remove it."

Allison gaped at him before looking down at the object in her hands. A large blood red jewel pendant set into tarnished silver at the end of an elegant silver chain winked at her, the strange symbols engraved on the silver around the precious stone emitting a faint glow.

"What is this?" she asked, looking up. But Famine was gone and in his place was her ring dagger.

OOOOOO

Derek fingered the pendant underneath the light of the lamp. "I've never seen anything like this before," he said finally, turning back to face the others standing in his loft.

Allison shared a worried glance with Scott. They had just come back from the clinic and heard the same thing from Deaton after she had told the others about her encounter with Famine. Deaton had very little to say about the necklace other than to tell them that it was very powerful. Internet searches predictably led to dead ends so they turned to Derek for help.

"And you said Famine gave this to you, Allison?" Derek asked, still examining the pendant.

She nodded once from where she stood beside Scott next to the couch, Lydia and Stiles sitting next to them with Isaac hovering behind, nervously fingering the scarf around his neck. "Yeah. All he told me was to put it around Lydia's neck and then he was gone. He didn't explain why." Derek nodded thoughtfully, but said nothing.

They lapsed back into silence, each one of them lost in their own thoughts and worries. A part of Allison distrusted Famine despite his words to her earlier, but another, less rational, part wanted to heed his words and put the necklace around Lydia's neck if it meant that her best friend would stay safe from whatever Death had planned for her. That less rational side would sometimes try and take over, but Allison would remind herself that Famine was a Horseman with the ability to kill everyone and he was probably lying to her. Attempting to scare her and her friends into putting that thing around Lydia's neck just to make her even more vulnerable than she already was.

The sudden appearance of Peter at the bottom of the stairs broke her from her thoughts. "What's this I hear about Famine?"

Allison tracked his movement across the loft with keen hunter's eyes, hand moving to rest on the hilt of her hunting knife where it was strapped to the small of her back, as he went to stand beside his nephew. While Lydia might have developed somewhat of a cautious, shaky trust of him for helping her track Stiles after Scott had kidnapped him, Allison wasn't going to be taking any chances when it came to Derek's power-hungry, psychotic uncle.

Peter took the necklace from Derek. "I've seen something like this before a long time ago. It's a protection amulet," he declared after a beat. "A very ancient, very powerful one." He pointed first at the jewel and then at the strange symbols engraved into the silver. "This ruby seems to be the source of its power and the engravings act as amplifiers, sort of as a little extra oomf."

He glanced over at the teenagers clustered together, a curious eyebrow raised in their direction. "Who gave this to you?" he asked.

"Famine," Allison replied curtly.

Peter nodded thoughtfully, humming noncommittally. He crossed the loft until he stood over Lydia and then proceeded to drop the necklace over her head until the amulet hung around her neck. "Don't take it off," he told her before carelessly dropping into the empty armchair and grabbing the book resting on the coffee table.

Everyone stared at him blankly in confusion and suspicion when he said nothing more and a full minute passed before he finally looked up. Peter rolled his eyes at them and dramatically snapped his book closed. "What?" he snapped.

Lydia narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm not wearing this," she said, making to remove the amulet. "It might look like a protection amulet, but that doesn't mean that's what it is. For all we know, it could be really used to track whoever is wearing it."

Stiles frowned from beside her, eyes trained on the necklace in question. He reached out and stilled her hands, stopping her from taking it off. "But, Lydia, what if it is a protection amulet?" he countered, amber eyes beseeching her to stop and reconsider. "What if Famine is actually trying to help us? After all, he hasn't done anything to hurt Allison or anyone else in town when he's had every opportunity to do so in the first place."

"Listen to your boyfriend, Lydia," Peter told her, tossing his book back onto the table. "When a Horseman gives you a gift, you say thank you and be grateful that he's kind to you. I warned you that Death would be coming for you, Lydia, and this just proves it."

The color rose in Lydia's face as she glared at Peter. "And what if you're wrong? What if Famine isn't helping us, but really Death?"

"I'm not," he said, the arrogance and self-righteousness clear in his tone. Peter reclined back in his seat. "Why don't we just settle this like civilized people?"

Stiles snorted. "Civilized? You're the last person anyone would call civilized, Mr. I-tried-to-kill-everyone-in-this-room!" he exclaimed. A thin smile crept across Peter's face, but he didn't bother trying to deny it.

Peter shifted his attention onto Allison and looked at her expectantly. "Let's settle this once and for all and simply ask Famine," he said.

"You say that like I've got his number saved in my phone," she retorted bitingly, glaring at him.

He gives her a sardonic look, a condescending smirk creeping across his face that made her want to carve it off with her ring dagger. Her fingers twitched at her sides and Scott's gentle but firm grip around her wrist stay her hand and she calmed some. "No, but you've got something better, Allison," he told her.

She shifted her weight onto one side and raised a skeptical brow at him. "And what would that be?"

"You said it yourself—you have a connection with the Horseman that you can't explain," he said, "And I'm sure Scott and Stiles can agree when it came to War and Conquest. Am I right, boys?"

They nodded begrudgingly. "I could always tell if Conquest was around," Stiles said, hand tightening around Lydia's as he stared unseeingly at the coffee table. He seemed to shake himself from whatever he was thinking about and turned to look up at Allison. "And if I was feeling particularly paranoid, a single thought was enough to summon him." Stiles' eyes slipped closed and a shiver ran down his spine and Lydia was quick to comfort him.

Allison blanched at his words. She was loathed to admit it, but Peter was right. She did have a connection with Famine and if she was being honest with herself, in the back of her mind, on an unconscious level, she always knew when he was around. Sometimes he was close enough to touch and other times all she had to do was look over her shoulder to see him. And worse, if her thoughts strayed from whatever pleasing desire Famine was helping make happen to worry about when he would strike, he would suddenly appear before disappearing just as quickly as he had come and she would forget it had all happened.

She didn't know how she suddenly knew it was true, but deep in the pit of her stomach she knew it was. And Famine probably had a hand in helping her both forget and remember.

Slowly, she raised her gaze to meet Peter's and for a split-second she thought she saw sympathy in his blue eyes. "Just focus on him, Allison, and he'll come," he said.

With Scott's hand wrapped tight around her own in support, Allison heaved a deep sigh as she let her eyes slip closed and focused on picturing Famine. She saw his tall, lean body and long dark hair with the ever-present arrogant smirk on his face. She thought of the way he just seemed to scream sex and seduction and of how those same seductive charms made him immensely dangerous.

Seconds then minutes passed as nothing happened. Allison frowned and opened her mouth to tell them this wasn't going to work, that she couldn't summon Famine like they thought, but then—

A loud ominous knock sounded on the door to the loft like heavy thunder, rattling the windows and making the lights flicker and sway over their heads, making Allison flashback to just last week. A shiver went down her spine at the memory and she clutched desperately at Scott's hand. He tightened his grip around hers in response and she knew that he was thinking about it too.

Everyone turned to look at Derek as a second knock sounded on the door and he grimaced before cautiously making his way across his loft. Slowly, he reached out and pulled the door open.

Instantly everything stilled and quieted and the only thing Allison could hear were her own uneven, ragged breaths.

"Thank you," a familiar voice said. "I was beginning to wonder when one of you would answer." Derek stepped aside and Famine strolled confidently into the loft, the smirk on his face predator-like and humor dancing in his eyes. He was still dressed in the same suit as earlier, except he'd lost the jacket and vest, leaving him in the white dress shirt with the cuffs rolled up to show off his strong forearms. Even more buttons had been undone letting everyone see his tan skin and muscled chest.

Famine settled his dark gaze on Allison. "I was wondering when you would call, Miss Argent," he said. His green eyes swept across their faces before focusing on Lydia and a pleased smile crept across his handsome face. "Good, you put the amulet around the banshee's neck. Now she'll have trouble locating her."

"Who?" Allison barked out sharply, shifting closer to Lydia along with the rest of the pack, her hand tight around her hunting knife again.

He didn't take his eyes from Lydia when he answered, his entire expression darkening. "Death."

The cold chill of fear seized Allison and she clumsily reached out to grasp her best friend's shoulder if only just to reassure herself that she was still there, still alive. The heat of Lydia's skin seeped into her hand and it did very little to help. All it did was make her think of when she had sat beside Stiles when he was in the hospital. She had held his hand while Lydia desperately begged and begged for him to wake up. He had been warm with the familiar heat of life, but he was already on the verge of death and was just hanging on by a thread as it literally flowed through his veins for them all to see.

She had snatched away her hand, unable to stay there while he literally slipped away from them before their very eyes.

But she wouldn't do that. No. Not to her best friend. Not to Lydia.

Not when she could actually do something to save her.

"Why?" Stiles asked, his voice hard like ice. Lydia clutched desperately at his arm beside him and he moved to wrap her tight in his embrace, all but pulling her into his lap. "What does Death want with Lydia?"

Famine sighed, moving to sit on the edge of the coffee table in front of them. His voice was a sad whisper. "Because she's able to warn the living and thwart Death." He leaned forward and reached out to lightly tap the amulet where it hung around Lydia's neck. "Whatever you do, don't take this off, little banshee," he told her softly, "Ancient power flows through this piece powerful enough to shield you from Death as long as you wear it. It will keep you safe, okay, little one?"

Lydia swallowed noisily and nodded stiffly. "Yes." A small smile tugged at the corners of the Horseman's mouth.

"Why are you helping us?" Scott suddenly demanded, wary of his intentions.

Famine slowly raised his dark eyes to meet Scott's. "Death means true harm to your banshee, wolfling, and I simply couldn't be a part of it. Especially when I don't agree with my sister's reasons." His gaze darkened, the green almost turning black. "Be grateful that I'm not a mindless drone."

After a moment Famine stood. He dragged a hand through his dark locks, artfully ruffling his hair again. The cool, soothing balm of calm rolled over Allison and she knew it was his doing. "I'll leave a full day ahead of schedule to let you settle in some. You'll have a long week ahead of you." He looked at each of them, the somber expression on his preternaturally handsome face out of place. "Be well."

Famine turned and made his way to the door. He was almost out the door when Allison stopped him.

"Thank you," she said.

He merely sent her a smirk over his shoulder before disappearing.

Just one more chapter and then a short epilogue left.