A/N:
I don't own Teen Wolf. Shock Horror.
"Scott?" I called, a little wary as I waited by my house, staring through the trees. Boyd and the girl that had been locked up in the bank vault had been roaming free for about an hour now, and Scott, Jackson and Derek had traced them to the preserve. That's when Scott had called me and asked for a favour. Of course, I would be much happier doing him this favour had it not involved waiting around in the dark while two rabid werewolves prowled around the place.
I heard a crack to my left, and swung around with a gasp just in time to see Scott coming out of the shadows with his hands high in the air.
"It's just me," he said loudly, stepping slowly onto the concrete of our drive. "Don't panic."
"What's the matter?" I asked him, tipping my head. "I'm not really sure that there's a lot I can do to help."
"Well, when I found Boyd, it turns out he had found someone else," Scott murmured, looking behind him to wave someone forward. Two young kids, neither of them any older than thirteen, stepped out from between the trees and rushed over to Scott, hiding behind him. "I lost Boyd, but…"
"But you saved them," I finished for him, a small smile on my face. "How about I take you guys home?" I suggested, smiling comfortingly at the older girl. She looked up to Scott, who nodded encouragingly.
"This is Amber," he said, tipping his head to me. "You'll be safe with her, I promise." The girl nodded, and slowly made her way over to me, her hand tight in the younger boy's. "I just figured, you were the closest…"
"You don't need to explain it, Scott," I smiled, nodding. "I like being able to help." He smiled at me, and with a final nod at the kids, turned to leave. "Wait, hang on," I stopped him, a thought popping into my head. "How am I supposed to explain this whole…" I gestured to Scott, and the kids, and the air around me, and shrugged. Scott's mouth fell open in thought, and then blew out a breath.
"I have no idea," he decided, which was not at all helpful. "Good luck figuring that one out!" And then he was gone, leaving me to glare after him.
"What an asshole," I muttered, spinning around to the kids with a smile. "Okay," I started, clapping my hands together. "First things first; what exactly did you guys see tonight?"
"Scott McCall, you will rue the day you left me alone with two kids to explain the wonders of the supernatural world without scarring them for life," I murmured to myself as I drove home after leaving the two kids outside their house. I tried to tell them as little as possible without leaving them with serious issues that they'd try to figure out in a therapist's office in years to come; they left the car thinking I was crazy.
I was shaking my head at imagining all the glorious ways I would make Scott pay for this when my phone started ringing, and I pressed the button on my steering wheel to answer it.
"Hello," I greeted, and the first thing I heard was crying.
"Amber?" Lydia's voice trembled, and I swallowed.
"Lyds," I said, trying to remain calm. "I'm here. What is it? Where are you?"
"At the public pool," she said, and I pulled over onto the side of the road enough to make a wide U-turn and go back the way I'd just come. "I don't even know how I got here, but there's a dead body, and, I don't… oh my God."
"I'm on my way, Lyds," I promised, feeling just a little sick. "I'm almost there, okay?"
"Okay," she cried, her voice tiny. "I've already called the police, and I tried to call Jackson, but he didn't answer-"
"He's out with Derek and Scott," I explained, cursing the terrible timing. "Listen, I'm two seconds away, okay? I want you to hang up and call Stiles."
"I don't want to hang up."
"I'm right there, Lyds," I said, glancing at the sign on the side of the road for the public pool. "I'm right there, but you need to call Stiles. He'll know what to do."
"Okay," she agreed after a few seconds of silence. "Just… please don't be long. I'm really freaking out right now."
"I won't, Lyds, I promise. I'll see you in a second, okay?"
"Okay," she said again, and I heard her sniff just as she hung up the phone. There was a dead body at the pool. They'd killed someone. Boyd and that girl had killed someone, and now Jackson, Scott and Derek were out there chasing them, tracking them down and trying to stop them. They were going to get themselves killed.
I pulled into the pool parking lot a minute later, seeing Lydia's car sitting alone near the entrance to the outside pool. I parked next to it and jumped straight out, just as Lydia was hanging up the phone.
"Stiles is on his way," she greeted me, walking up to meet me half way.
"Where is it?" I asked her. Tonight was not the time for pleasantries. She pointed up to the high lifeguard chair, where I could see the silhouette of a head, lolling around. I took a deep breath and slowly took a few steps, avoiding the blood pooled on the floor, to take a good look at the body. I didn't recognise the guy, but he looked young, pretty healthy. That is, aside from the pints of blood spilling from his neck and staining his chest, and the cold, dead look in his eyes. "Holy shit."
"Yeah," Lydia agreed, refusing to step any closer. "My thoughts exactly."
"He was like this when you got here?" Something didn't seem right. When Lydia called and told me she'd found a dead body, this wasn't what I pictured. Sure, it was a dead body. But something didn't fit.
Lydia nodded. "I didn't touch him," she responded, and a stream of light behind her caught my attention. Stiles was here.
"Lydia!" I heard him call a second later, slamming his door shut behind him as he rounded the Jeep hurriedly. "Lydia? Are you okay?"
"I'm okay," she said as Stiles reached her. "That, over there…" she trailed off, wincing, but not turning. "Not okay."
I looked over to Stiles, reluctantly asking the question I hadn't really wanted to think about. "Erica?" Stiles glanced away, and that was enough answer for me. He shook his head anyway, his face sad.
"Yeah, alright," Stiles barrelled on as I sighed. Despite what Isaac had said in this trance, I'd honestly thought we'd had some hope of finding Erica alive. I guess I should have known better by now. "I'm gonna call my dad."
"I already called 911," Lydia informed him, and he gaped.
"You called the police before you called me?"
"I'm supposed to call you first when I find a dead body?" Lydia asked.
"Yes!"
"Amber, what are you doing over there?" Lydia called suddenly, still not turning. "I can assure you that… body is not that interesting."
"I beg to differ," I muttered, narrowing my eyes at the body. Carefully, as Stiles pulled out his phone, I stepped over the thick pool of blood on the floor to get a closer look.
"What is it with you and dead things?" Lydia asked me.
"Something doesn't seem right." I narrowed my eyes, trying to pinpoint what it was that was bugging me so.
"Scott, hey," I heard Stiles say into the phone. "Bad news. Lydia found a dead body. Looks like Boyd and that girl already got to someone." There was silence for a minute, before Stiles responded to whatever Scott said. "Yep. Throat ripped out, blood everywhere. It's like the fricking Shining over here. If two little twin girls come out of the woods and start asking me to play with them forever and ever, I'm not gonna be surprised… Make sure it was them? Scott, who else is going around ripping throats out?"
That's when it hit me.
"Scott wants us to make sure it was them," Stiles huffed, hanging up the phone.
"I don't think it was," I replied, taking a step back.
"You don't…" Stiles scoffed, flung his arms out. "Explain."
"This don't scream starved lions to me, Stiles," I whispered, tipping my head. "It's not savage, or bloodthirsty. It's almost… clean." Stiles narrowed his eyes at me, stepping over the blood to stand beside me.
"His throat hasn't been ripped out," Stiles murmured as he got a closer, better look. "It was cut."
"I need another favour," Scott said from Stiles' phone as I held it in my palm. I huffed.
"The last one was tough enough, thanks," I muttered. Lydia, Stiles and I were stood in the parking lot, between Lydia's car and my own, watching the police tape off the pool.
"This one is probably going to be worse," Scott admitted. He had my attention, at least.
"What do you need?"
"Scott tells me you're a witch," a familiar voice said, and I frowned.
"Mr Argent?"
"Yes," he said, and I looked up at Stiles and Lydia to see them wearing the same confusion I felt on their faces. "You have a grimoire, correct?"
"Uh," I said intelligently, surprised. "Yes."
"Do you have it with you?"
I handed the phone over to Stiles, and once he took it I opened my car door and climbed onto the seat. Reaching behind into the back seat, I grabbed the book and heaved it over. After climbing back out, I dropped it onto the roof of my car. "Yes," I said, loud enough for the speaker to pick it up.
"I need you to find something called a boundary spell in it," Mr Argent ordered, and I flicked through, looking for anything related. "And then I need you to get everything you need to do the spell and get to the high school."
"I…" I turned to gape at Lydia and Stiles, shrugging. "Now?"
"Yes, now, Amber," he said sharply. "If we don't do it soon, they're going to kill someone else."
"Actually-" Stiles began, but Mr Argent growled.
"We're not doing this right now," he said. "Just meet us at the school as soon as you can." There was a beep, and the call was over. I blew out a breath.
"Okay," I muttered, my eyes wide.
"Can you do it?" Stiles asked me. Lydia nodded for me.
"She can do it," she said, nodding once. "What do you need?"
I turned back to the book, sliding it into my arms and turning back to them as I flipped through the relevant pages. "Another witch," I read, flicking the page and huffing. "Or a comet… Something powerful to bind it to," I murmured, looking up to the full moon still high in the sky above us. Lydia and Stiles looked up, following my gaze.
"You're gonna use the moon?" Stiles asked me, sounding doubtful.
I nodded. "Witches who practice traditional magic can use natural, powerful occurrences to strengthen their magic," I explained, flicking to a spell that should work. "If I can link a boundary spell to the full moon, not only will it keep them inside the school, but it'll be temporary. As soon as the full moon goes down, so does the spell."
"Wait, wait, wait," Stiles said, holding up his hands. "If?" I shrugged.
"I ain't done a spell like this yet," I admitted reluctantly.
"Then what the hell have you been doing all summer?!"
"The easy stuff; reviving flowers, starting fires. The elemental stuff comes easy to witches, but everything else…" I trailed off, shrugging. "Magic has its price."
"What kind of price?" Lydia asked quietly, lowering her eyebrows.
"It's nothing, most of the time," I explained. "But, you heard Deaton yesterday," I said to Stiles, gesturing to him weakly.
"Magic takes its toll," Stiles said, nodding. "So, if you do too much magic…
"Or magic too powerful, it can be bad for me, yeah," I finished. "Which is why I've never done anything like this before. It's not something my uncle Drew wanted me to take lightly."
"So tonight…" Lydia looked between me and Stiles, her eyes wide. "This spell, the one we're counting on to save lives, is going to be your first attempt at serious magic?"
I fought to find words that might give Lydia any source of comfort. I failed. "Yes," I answered honestly, wincing a little. She swallowed, and nodded.
"Then don't screw it up."
I pulled up outside the school, armed with my grimoire, steely determination and nothing else. And as soon as I stepped out of the car, I instantly started regretting ever agreeing to this.
"Amber," Allison's voice greeted, and I turned to the sound to see her emerging from between two buses, the shadows keeping her completely hidden from sight. With the hair, the boots, the bow and quiver, she fit the part of skilled huntress perfectly.
I grinned. "The badass look suits you."
She smiled, ducking her head for a second, before she tipped her head back. "C'mon," she murmured, taking a quick scope of the parking lot before heading towards the open doors leading into the school. I followed, and Allison led the way through the darkness to other side of the school. "They'll be here any minute," she said, throwing me a glance over her shoulder as she marched. "They're going to lead them into the school through the way we just came. You just have to make sure they can't get back out."
"I can start the spell now," I explained, stepping quickly to keep up with Allison. "Once the spell is up, werewolves will still be able to get in, even if they can't get out."
"How long will it last?" Allison asked.
"Until the sun rises," I said, pursing my lips. "If I do it right."
"Then do it right," Allison responded, and I could see the small smile on her face. "Scott told me about my mom."
I stumbled.
"It's okay," she said quickly, spinning to walk backwards and smile at me softly. "He said he asked you not to say anything; that you wanted to. And I guess I get why he did it."
"You had already gone through so much…"
"I know," she said, nodding. She faced forward again, slowing slightly. "I'm not mad at you; I'm not mad at either of you. But I'm stronger than that. I can handle it. I could have handled it."
"I know you could have handled it, Ally," I said, pursing my lips. "But we didn't want you to have to handle it." She nodded.
"He also said that you… you felt it," she said quietly. Almost guiltily. "That you felt everything she did to him." I didn't respond for a minute, but finally managed to nod. We were quiet for a while, neither of us knowing what to say after something like that. Allison finally managed to find some words. "Do you need anything?" she asked, moving the subject swiftly along. I shook my head, stepping up to walk beside her.
"No, it's just me," I said. "That is, unless it goes terribly wrong and I end up the target of very rabid, and very unbound werewolves. Every ounce of my magic needs to be focused on this, so I'll need you to come to my rescue."
"I'll be here," she promised, smiling encouragingly at me. "You just focus on getting the spell done right; I've got your back."
I smiled at my friend, the one who'd come so far from that terrifying night we'd shared, chased around this very school by the creatures we now helped to protect, to save. I felt overwhelmingly proud.
That's when we heard the howl.
We both spun around, looking off to the trees, where the sound had come from. Then Allison turned to me, her face grave. "Hurry."
I did just that, rushing forward with her until we reached the large double doors on the other side of the building and slamming them open. Once we reached the stone steps just outside, once I felt the moonlight wash over me, I stopped, allowing Allison to rush past me to find a good defensive position or whatever it is that hunters do when they run off, and I spun back around, facing the large doorway.
Focus, I told myself, closing my eyes and sucking in a deep breath.
As I released it, slow and study, and I felt something wash over me. It was calming, and freeing, and empowering all at once. I kept my eyes shut, channelling all of my energy, all of the light of the moon, onto envisioning this barrier. If they got out… It didn't bear thinking about.
"Invoco lunam, ligare hoc locus, custodi autem lupus intra," I muttered, my eyes flickering under my eyeslids. Focus. "Invoco lunam, ligare hoc locus, custodi autem lupus intra. Invoco lunam, ligare hoc locus, custodi autem lupus int-"
I heard another howl, and I stammered to a stop, opening my eyes. The hallway was still clear.
For now.
"Invoco lunam, ligare hoc locus, custodi autem lupus intra. Invoco lunam, ligare hoc locus, custodi autem lupus intra. Invoco lunam, ligare hoc locus, custodi autem lupus intra. Invoco lunam, ligare hoc locus, custodi autem lupus intra."
I stumbled again when I saw something dart around the corner, headed towards me, until Derek slowed to a stop.
"Invoco lunam, ligare hoc locus, custodi autem lupus intra," I continued. He nodded at me, staying at that corner as I continued chanting, watching the entry that I couldn't see. "Invoco lunam, ligare hoc locus, custodi autem lupus intra. Invoco lunam, ligare hoc locus, custodi autem lupus intra."
Derek stilled, his gaze drawn upwards, and, of course, that couldn't mean anything good.
"They're going over," I heard him mutter, and his wide eyes finally dropped to mine. "They're on the roof. Don't stop."
I nodded, freaking out. I sucked in another breath, blowing it out slowly, trying to calm myself. "Invoco lunam, ligare hoc locus, custodi autem lupus intra. Invoco lunam, ligare hoc locus, custodi autem lupus intra." I heard growling not far from me, but I didn't stop, not this time. If I stopped now, I might not get the spell done in time. "Invoco lunam, ligare hoc locus, custodi autem lupus intra. Invoco lunam, ligare hoc locus, custodi autem lupus intra." Squeaking sounded from somewhere beside me, like tyres on tarmac, but I didn't turn. I needed to focus. "Invoco lunam, ligare hoc locus, custodi autem lupus intra."
"Amber," I heard Stiles' voice say. I held up a finger, telling him to wait, concentrating on the words, on the tingling in my skin. He stayed quiet, stopping somewhere below where I stood on the steps just as Scott and Jackson sprinted down the hallway adjacent to the one I was staring down.
"Invoco lunam, ligare hoc locus, custodi autem lupus intra. Invoco lunam, ligare hoc locus, cus-" They hadn't just been sprinting. They were being chased. Boyd ran past me, and for a second I thought I was okay, blowing out a heavy breath when he ran out of view, but then he reappeared, slower. More focused. Focused on me. He growled. "Stiles, run," I muttered, not daring to look away from Boyd as he stood at the other end of the hall, staring at me with those bright golden eyes. I don't know whether or not he heard me. "Invoco lunam, ligare hoc locus, custodi autem lupus intra," I continued, blowing out a breath. He growled again.
"Amber, what are you doing?" Stiles hissed, his voice telling me he hadn't moved at all, despite my warning. I waved him off, telling him to run, to get the hell out of here. I didn't know if the spell was working. I didn't want him anywhere near the school when I found out.
"Invoco lunam, ligare hoc locus, custodi autem lupus intra."
"Amber, forget the spell," Stiles cut in. Boyd took a determined step toward me. Then another.
"Invoco lunam, ligare hoc locus-"
"Amber, don't be a freaking martyr, run!"
"-custodi autem lupus intra." Boyd was running now, sprinting full-throttle at the door, at me, and it took everything I had in me to close my eyes and not choke on my own words. "Invoco lunam, ligare hoc locus, custodi autem lupus intra. Invoco lunam, ligare hoc locus, custodi autem lupus intra. Invoco lunam, ligare-"
I winced as something crashed into me and I fell to the floor, but it took me a few seconds before I realised I hadn't landed on the concrete of the steps or the parking lot, but on something softer. And I wasn't being torn to shreds right now, despite still being able to hear very angry growling. I peeked an eye open, and yep, no blood. My limbs were all still intact, and there was Boyd, scratching and pounding at an invisible wall, seemingly locked inside the building.
"I did it," I murmured, the relief and excitement settling somewhere in my chest and making it strangely hard to breathe. "It actually worked."
"Yeah, that's great, well done," Stiles muttered, just a hint of sarcasm in his voice. I looked over my shoulder and saw him lying beside me, wincing. Had he just… had he just shoved me out of the way of Boyd? "But the next time I tell you to stop trying to save the day and run away from the rabid werewolf, do my fragile bones a favour and do it."
"So what happens now?" Allison asked me, jumping down from the roof of a bus. "Scott, Derek and Isaac are all locked in there with them."
"They're going to try and herd them into the boiler room," I answered, thinking back to the phone call I'd gotten from Scott, filling me in on the rest of the plan after I'd left the pool. "That way, Boyd and the other girl are kept away from anyone human, and the guys can still stay safe."
"That other girl," Stiles cut in, folding his arms over his chest. "Derek's sister, by the way."
"I thought his whole family died in the fire?" I asked, my head spinning from Stiles, to Allison, and back again.
"Most of them did," Stiles said, shrugging. "She must have gotten out. And then gotten captured by a pack of alpha werewolves and turned into a killing machine."
"You can't let them out?" Allison asked me, frowning.
I shook my head. "I bound the spell to the full moon; once that goes down, they're all free to leave, but no werewolf is stepping foot outside the building until then."
Allison nodded, looking around the parking lot. "I need to go," she said out of nowhere, sighing. "My dad doesn't know I'm here, and I don't want him finding out." I frowned, but nodded.
"Okay," I responded, giving Stiles a look. "He won't hear it from us." She smiled at us both, before ducking away and disappearing. I turned to Stiles, breathing out a heavy sigh. "Well, tonight's been fun," I muttered. He huffed out a laugh, tipping his head in agreement. "Oh, hey," I said, a thought coming to mind. "Did you manage to stop by Heather's?" I flinched a little when his face fell, and he avoided my eye. "What?"
"You, uh…" he cleared his throat, pursing his lips. "You don't need to worry about that. We found her."
I hesitated. "Why doesn't that seem as good as it sounds?"
"She's dead," he said bluntly, and fuck. "Melissa called me, said she wanted to show me something weird on that body Lydia found at the pool. Turns out, it wasn't the first body to turn up with the same injuries."
"Stiles, I'm so sorry," I started, but he shook his head, wincing.
"I don't think it was Boyd and Cora that killed that guy," Stiles continued. I got the feeling it helped, concentrating on something other than Heather. "You were right; it wasn't vicious enough to be a rabid werewolf. And Melissa found two other fatal wounds on the bodies." Bodies. Plural. "There was the original cut on the throat, which we saw. But there was also blunt force trauma to the head, and bruising around the neck."
"Bruising?" I repeated. "Like, strangulation?"
"Yeah, except thinner, like someone had used rope or something." Stiles shook his head, running a hand over his hair.
"Why would someone need to kill them three times?"
"That's the thing," Stiles said, his hand dropping down to rub at his face for a second. "Have you ever heard of something called the threefold death?" I frowned, laughing.
"Sure, but that stuff is, like, prehistoric," I answered, shaking my head. "And it's not like that's a common death, it's a sacrifice thing."
"Exactly."
"Are you…" I scoffed, gaping. "Are you saying Heather, and that guy at the pool… they were human sacrifices?" He nodded. "Stiles…"
"They were both virgins," Stiles cut me off. "Heather told me as much the night of her party, and the guy was wearing a purity ring."
"One's an incident," I argued, raising an eyebrow. "Two's a coincidence."
"Three's a pattern," Stiles finished, nodding. "And a third virgin went missing tonight."
"Hey, Jackson," I greeted that Friday morning, smiling at him in the hallway. "I got you a present." I held out the pendant, a small crystal hanging from a long silver chain. He grimaced.
"I'm good, thanks," he muttered, turning back to his locker.
"Could you please put it on for me?" I tried again, bringing out the puppy eyes. It took him a few seconds, but he eventually huffed and held out his hand. I waited until the crystal lay flat against his chest, then took a look up and down the quiet hallway, before reaching nodding my head subtly at Allison. She nodded back, and made her way over to us.
"Hey, guys," she greeted, a bright smile on her face. "How's your morning been so far, Jackson?"
He frowned, raising an eyebrow at her. "Fine," he muttered, turning back to his locker as he shoved in his textbooks. "The same as usua- Argh, what the fuck?!"
Jackson looked down at the knife impaling his hand to his locker wall with wide eyes and a wide mouth, breathing heavily.
"What the fuck is your problem?" he hissed at Allison as she yanked it back out with a frustrated huff.
"Relax," I said, dropping back against the line of lockers and folding my arms over my chest. "You'll heal."
"Physically, sure," Jackson agreed, rubbing at the blood on his hand as the wound started to close up. "But if you keep sticking me with pointy things, I'm gonna start developing some serious trust issues."
"Yeah, well, you'll be fine," I muttered bitterly. "I, on the other hand, am going to be a human sacrifice."
Jackson closed his locker with a sigh, turning to wrap an arm around my shoulders. "Amber, we're not gonna let anything happen to you," he promised.
"You say that now," I smiled, looking up at him.
"Say what now?" Scott asked, and I turned to see he and Stiles stop in front of us, looking grim.
"She's worried about the sacrifices," Allison filled in, looking only slightly awkward around her ex-boyfriend. It's funny, even in the face of death and destruction, our lives still revolve around the most human things.
"We're all worried about the sacrifices," Scott said, tipping his head. I snorted, and Allison smiled at me as she ducked her head.
"You have a lot less to be worried about than her," Allison said quietly, barely supressing her grin. "Trust me."
"What that's supposed to mean?" Stiles said, frowning at me.
"It means I'm going to die," I answered brightly, smiling at the pair. "Horribly, brutally, probably painfully."
"But whoever's doing this is only going after virgins," Stiles murmured, his eyes narrowed in thought.
"Yes, Stiles," I agreed, nodding sarcastically. "I was there the other night, when we had this conversation the first time."
"So if you know that, why would…" Scott trailed off, pointing a finger at me as his eyes widened. "There's no way in hell you're a virgin."
I pursed my lips. "Why do I feel like I should be insulted by that?"
"How are you a virgin?" Stiles asked me, his face suspicious and confused to Scott's amused surprise.
"Again," I said, looking at Allison as she tried not to laugh. "Insulted."
"No, we don't mean it like that," Scott tried, laughing awkwardly. "I just wasn't expecting… that. I mean, we've heard a lot of things about you. Like, a lot."
"You can't believe everything you hear on the grapevine, Scotty," I muttered, huffing and dropping my head back to stare at the ceiling. "I'm going to die."
"You're not gonna die," Jackson groaned again.
"You don't know that."
"Once we figure out a protection spell that actually works, we will," Allison supplied, sounding doubtful. I lowered my head to raise an eyebrow at her.
"Jackson's going to be a walking pincushion before that happens." I huffed again, turning back to Jackson
"Oh, God," he muttered, just as I began chanting under my breath.
"Spiritus meus, hoc ens ab iniuria tueri, custodire ab hoc ente vulnere, nisi ex hoc apparet quod neque mors." Jackson winced as I spoke, preparing himself for the pain, and after a nod from me, Allison shoved the knife into his thigh.
"Ah, Jesus," he groaned, falling to his knees. I watched as he pulled the knife out and handed it back to a disappointed Allison with a pout.
"I'm going to die."
"Okay, boys and girls," Coach called as the class limbered up, preparing for the run. "It's the off season for lacrosse, which means I can focus all of my love and attention on you beauties! And to all of my lazy-ass lacrosse players and track runners, there's a cross country meet coming up. Don't disappoint me." I grinned at Danny, having missed Coach's exuberant nature over the summer, and he leant forward, challenging me with a cheeky smile. "Now run along on my mark. Last one back had to wash my car for a month." Coach blew his whistle, and I shot off, Danny just barely behind me, but it was only a second later when someone shoved past me, hard, and a sense of anger and power swept down my spine.
Werewolves.
I slowed as I looked up to who had knocked into me, watching as the back of two identical heads ran further and further away.
"Move," someone shouted at me from behind, and I stepped to the left just as Isaac shot past me, just as fast. I looked up to Danny, my eyes wide.
"This is something Jackson related, isn't it?" he asked me, and I nodded. He looked behind him, then nodded. "Do you need to go?"
I opened my mouth to uhh, but then Scott sprinted past me, heading the same way Isaac had gone, Jackson growling as he followed quickly. "Nope," I answered with a smile, before darting off from Danny again. "They've got it. I ain't getting involved in a wolf fight."
"Probably the best idea," Danny grinned, pushing past me an inch for a split second. We rounded a corner as I giggled, and I shoved him out of the way to make room for myself. He shoved me back, off the track completely and onto the mound surrounding the track. I turned to giggle at him, and that's when the stars aligned, creating the most ridiculously unlucky and unfortunate moment to have ever befallen anyone in the history of mankind – even for me.
I literally ran into a dead body.
I didn't know this at first. I thought I'd ran into a tree or something, until, after I'd sprung back and hit the floor with a thud, I realised that trees aren't squishy. Or wet. When I looked up, I saw it; the pale, blood-soaked, lifeless body of a familiar young guy, tied to the trunk of a tree with something around his neck. Kyle. It was Kyle, one of the seniors that used to tease Brett about me. Danny would tell me afterwards that my first reaction was to freeze, go deathly white, crawl backwards away from his body, and then scream so piercingly that he had to cover his ears, but I don't remember any of that. I remember the flash I'd gotten when I made contact. The flash of cold, of terror. I remember a man begging some unseen being for his life before his cries were cut off completely when the leather around his neck tightened, cutting off his breathing. I remember thinking was this how they found Heather? Barely hanging from the side of a tree, alone and cold? Were her last moments like these? Did she die sobbing, begging for her life, choking on her own tears?
And then Danny was there, crouching down in front of me with wide eyes and shaking hands.
"How bad is it?" I asked him, gesturing to myself. My hands were clear of blood, but it was my face and torso that had… "Never mind," I said, changing my mind. "I don't want to know."
Danny tipped his head, agreeing. "That's probably for the best."
"What the hell happened here?" Coach asked, rounding the corner, Stiles a step behind him. "What's with all the blood? Are you-" As soon as Coach hit the straight stretch and the dead body came into view, he froze, his mouth dropping open. Stiles' reaction was definitely more one of someone who was used to this kind of shit. His shoulders slumped, out of frustration or disappointment, maybe a little sadness, and then he was jogging over, and crouching down as Danny explained the situation to a distressed Coach.
"I didn't see him," I muttered, swallowing hard. Stiles nodded, grimacing in sympathy. "I wasn't looking where I was going, and then I hit something, and I fell backwards, and it was him, it was Kyle. And I…" I whined, wincing. "I can feel the blood drying on me."
"Come here," he murmured, shuffling forward just enough to pull his jacket sleeve over his hand and wipe away the blood on my face.
"Are you… Aren't I technically evidence?" Stiles scoffed.
"It's not my first time tampering with evidence, now, is it?" he laughed, leaning back again to unzip his jacket and rest it over my shoulder. I smiled a thank you, and he sunk down onto the grass next to me, hiding the body from my sight. We watched Coach shouting down the phone for a minute, telling the police that they needed to hurry the hell up, that he was worried I'd throw up and damage the crime scene. Stiles sucked in a breath. "I don't… I don't really want to ask you this, but… when you hit him, you saw something, didn't you?" I blinked, ordering the tears back in vain, and squaring my shoulders before I nodded.
"I really want to tell you it was fast," I whispered, refusing to meet his eye. "That it was over in seconds, and he didn't know what was going on. That none of them did."
"But you'd be lying," he nodded.
"I'm so sorry, Stiles," I cried, a single sob breaking through before he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. "It was so horrible." I felt him nod, his chin on the top of my head as it lay against his shoulder, and I sniffled.
"Did you see anything?" Stiles asked me, sounding reluctant, but knowing he had to do it anyway. "Did you see who it was?"
"No," I admitted, huffing and sniffing again. "I felt something, though." Stiles pulled back just enough to frown at my apprehensive tone.
"What was it?"
"Power," I said to the sound of sirens in the distance. Stiles grimaced, dropped his head into his free hand. He looked how I felt. "And lots of it."
"Get these kids out of here!" the Sheriff ordered, waving all of the students away from the crime scene. Stiles was up and waiting for his dad, pointing him over to the body.
"Look, look at it," Stiles said. "It's the same as the others, you see?"
"Yeah, I see that," the Sheriff responded, running a hand through his hair. He turned to me, his face grim. "You're not looking your best, Amber."
I laughed. I couldn't help it. "I ain't feeling my best, Sheriff."
"Did you see anything?" he asked, crouching down so he was at eye level with me. I shook my head. I hadn't seen anything that he should be knowing about, anyway.
"I didn't even see the body until after the collision," I admitted, wincing. "Did I make your job a hundred times harder?"
He hummed, seeming to think about it. "Maybe only ninety times harder," he said, his soft smile a strong comfort to my nerves. "Do you want me to call your dad?"
"No, I'm okay," I promised, shaking my head. "I think I just need a shower. And a strong drink."
"I'm going to pretend you mean a coffee," he said, winking. Lord, he and Stiles were alike. He stood up, patted his son on the shoulder. "Stiles, do me a favour and make sure Amber gets back to the locker room alright." Stiles nodded, held out a hand to help me up as Coach started yelling at the students to stop staring. He led the way over to where Jackson, Scott and Isaac were muttering amongst themselves, away from the prying ears of the Beacon Hills Police Department.
"You see the way the twins looked at him?" Isaac asked us all, crossing his arms over his chest.
"You mean like they had no idea what happened?" Stiles scoffed, a hand steering me back down the hill, towards the hill.
"No," Isaac argued, shaking his head. Jackson swung his arm over my shoulder, squeezed me tight for a second. "No, they knew."
"The guy was strangled with a garrotte," Stiles answered back, huffing. "Am I the only one recognizing the lack of 'werewolfitude' in these murders?
"You think it's a coincidence they turn up, and then people start dying?" Isaac asked Stiles sarcastically. I rolled my eyes; I was not in the mood for this bickering right now.
"Well, no, but I still don't think it's them."
"Scott?" Isaac asked. "What about you?" Scott considered him answer, but Jackson and I just continued down the incline.
"You okay?" he asked me, squeezing me again for a second. I shook my head.
"No, not really," I answered honestly, my voice barely above a whisper. "People keep dying."
"This isn't your fault," Jackson argued, shaking his head.
"That don't matter." I brushed my bangs out of my face, hoping to all that was holy that Kyle's blood hadn't gotten in there somewhere. "I'm a Keeper of the Balance. I'm supposed to keep stuff like this from happening."
"You're still new at this," Jackson said, stopping and turning me to face him to drive his point home. "No one expects you to know what you're doing."
"I had all summer to figure out what I'm doing, Jackson," I groaned, rubbing my face with my hands. "And, instead, I spent the entire time lighting candles and helping flowers grow."
"Too much magic is bad for you."
"And human sacrifices are bad for everyone," I hissed, my hands on my head as I sucked in a deep breath. "People are dying – Heather is dead – and I don't have a clue what to do about it."
"It's not your responsibility to save everyone, Amber."
I shook my head, turning to head back to the locker rooms. "It's my responsibility to try."
"Kyle wasn't a virgin," Stiles gasped as he dropped down into the seat next to me. Jackson huffed, shoving his food tray away from him.
"And that's ruined my lunch."
"I'm gonna leave you guys to it," Danny said, standing up and taking his tray with him. He winked at me, a wink that Stiles did not catch, and left the table. Scott smiled brightly at him as he passed him and took Danny's seat, and I finally turned to Stiles.
"What?"
"Kyle," Stiles repeated, his eyes wide. "The dead guy. I spoke to his girlfriend, and she said he wasn't a virgin."
I stared at him for a second, my face blank. "Please tell me you didn't just ask a girl if her very recently dead boyfriend was a virgin."
"Well, now, I would," Stiles said, wincing. "But I think we're past the lying stage on our friendship."
"You're unbelievable," I muttered, shaking my head. "What does that have to do with his gruesome murder?"
"If he's not a virgin," Stiles said slowly, like he was speaking to a child. "Then why would he be used in a human sacrifice."
"Maybe whoever's doing this ain't after just virgins," I suggested, shrugging and poking at my salad. The food here barely looked edible on a good day. Today was not a good day.
"That's exactly what I was thinking," Stiles cheered. "So, I'm thinking, three virgins, three everything, right? Three whatever-Kyle-is, and that-"
"Why're you smiling?" I asked him, shrugging a shoulder. "Kyle died, Stiles."
Stiles looked down for a second, nodding slowly. "I know that."
"Then why are you smiling?"
"Because if I can figure out a pattern, we can figure out who the hell is doing this, and we can stop them," Stiles said, leaning forward. "And we're that one step closer to figuring out a pattern."
"How many more people have to die before that happens?"
"Can you hear that?" Jackson muttered, and I huffed a breath to turn to him angrily.
"Hear what?"
"Allison," Scott breathed, darting up from the table a second later, Jackson following suit. I watched them both sprint out of the cafeteria and around the corner with my mouth open.
"Thanks for the info," I muttered, blowing out a breath. I avoided looking at Stiles for a while, hoping maybe he would go away and leave me in piece. No such luck.
"I get that you're having a bit of a shit day," he murmured gently, leaning forward and crossing his arms on the table. "But it's gonna get better. We have to hit rock bottom sooner or later, and things can only go up from there."
"And how far are we from rock bottom?"
"Personally, I like to think it came and went with Erica," Stiles said, shrugging. "At least, that's what I tell myself. It makes life seem a little less bleak."
I laughed, sniffing. "So what now?" I asked him, dropping against the back of my seat.
"Now we figure out a pattern," Stiles answered, pursing his lips. "So, he's not a virgin; what is he? What makes him appealing to someone wanting a sacrifice?"
I thought about it, tipping my head. "I don't really know a lot about him," I admitted, shrugging. "I know he has a dog, but that's about it, I think." I smirked. "Maybe whoever this is hates virgins and dog owners." Stiles laughed for a second, before his face fell and his eyes widened.
"I'll be right back," he blurted out, before jumping up from the table and disappearing.
"Sure," I muttered, stabbing a lettuce leaf with my fork. "I'll just sit here, completely alone, with terrifying images of a dead guy seared into my brain. Good times."
When the bell for last period English rang, I slammed my locker door shut and spun, heading towards Miss Blake's class. That was, until someone grabbed my upper arm and pulled me back, heading towards the main doors.
"Stiles," I greeted, yanking my arm back so he had to stop. "What are you doing?"
"We're going to see Deaton," he explained, pulling my arm again and resuming our march.
"No, we're not." I stopped, and Stiles groaned loudly. "We have English. Deaton can wait an hour."
"No, he can't," Stiles argued, huffing and swinging his arms out. "It's my dad's job to solve this kind of stuff, but he can't, because he doesn't have a freaking clue what's going on around here. So, the sooner we figure this out, the sooner we fix it." He raised an eyebrow challengingly, knowing I couldn't refuse any attempt to stop any more people dying. "So I'm going to speak to Deaton," he said, shrugging. "You can come with, or you can be a good little student and attend English, but I'm leaving right now, so make up your mind." He smiled again, turning on his heel and heading towards the big doors. It took me approximately half a second before I huffed and decided to follow. When I caught back up with him, he was grinning victoriously.
"Shut up, Stilinski," I muttered.
"It's just one class," he promised, shaking his head. "What's the worst that could happen?"
"In this town?" I scoffed. "Four people could be ritually sacrificed and left hanging around for innocent bystanders to run into during gym class."
"Good point."
"I'm just telling you everything you already know, aren't I?" Stiles asked Deaton after he'd beaten him to the Mistletoe punch line.
"Is there anything he doesn't know?" I muttered, and Stiles tipped his head in acknowledgement.
"I don't know who's doing this," Deaton admitted. Somehow, I wasn't surprised. Disappointed, yes. Frustrated, yes. Surprised… no. "But I do know the practice."
"So what?" Stiles asked, exasperated. "Whoever's doing this is a druid?"
"Do you know what the word druid means in Gaelic?"
"Wise oak," I answered, smiling proudly when Deaton nodded. Stiles rolled his eyes.
"The Celtic druids were close to nature," Deaton continued. "They believed they kept it in balance, much like the witches of today. They were… philosophers, and scholars. They were not serial killers."
"This one is," Stiles disagreed. I heard my ringtone sounding from my bag, reaching in to pull it out as Deaton raised an eyebrow at Stiles.
"Hey, Lyds," I said into the phone, brushing a hand through my hair. "What's going on?"
"Where are you?" she asked, her voice high. "Wait, never mind. Just get back to school; the music teacher didn't show up for class today."
"I don't… I don't get it," I responded, shrugging at Stiles' questioning look.
"I think… No, I know… He was taken."
I felt my eyes widen. "What do you mean, taken?"
"I mean taken, Am," she groaned, her breathing heavy. "He's going to be the next sacrifice."
A/N: