Author's note: And now we get into season 4. Again, events are shifted around. And I'm in the middle of school and other stuff, so my posts won't be that frequent.
This was thanks to my amazing beta reader.
Stiles first heard the news from a news alert. That his father did not tell him about the three homicides that day was irritating, to say the least. He and his friends were the go to people for investigating the weird and strange. Almost a whole family being slaughtered by an assassin counted as weird and strange. Especially when the assassin had no mouth. And Scott, Kira and Allison all said to let the adults handle it because class was about to start. Stiles had never heard anything more irresponsible in his life, going to class when a murderer was on the loose.
So instead of investigating, Stiles, along with Scott and Isaac, headed to tryouts for lacrosse. Despite the assassin, Stiles was happy that he probably was going to play more this season. His ankle was barely even sprained according to the doctor, and after a week he could run no problem. And even without werewolf powers, he had gotten stronger in the past year. He could certainly run faster. Maybe Allison had noticed, because yesterday she invited him and Lydia to a training session that weekend. Stiles had agreed to go without hesitation. He could handle it.
"Yes, McCall, you're on the team." Coach flipped through the packet of names and dates.
"Am I still captain?" Scott clasped his hands in front of him. The other boys were already stretching on the field, a couple were throwing balls at the goalie. It was tryouts for the new season. Several dozen students were in the stands watching including Lydia, Allison, Malia and Kira.
Coach looked up from his papers. "All positions are open." He walked out to the field. Scott knew he could be captain again. He wasn't worried. He was a werewolf, after all.
Stiles and Isaac were arguing about some webseries they both happened to watch. In the last few days Scott was relieved that they weren't sniping at each other anymore. Matthew had claimed his little team building exercise helped, to which Stiles had replied that he was lucky he wasn't suing Heaven for damages. Isaac also seemed happier since Scott's mom signed the paperwork making Isaac her foster kid. Nothing had changed as far as their arrangement went. But Scott could hear Isaac in the next room, and he knew Isaac had slept better in the last week than he had since he came into their home.
Unfortunately, his love life was not going as well. Over the weekend, Kira had broken off whatever they had, saying she had too much to worry about at the moment to start a relationship. Allison broke up with Isaac, too. At least the two of them weren't going to fight over her and throw each other into walls again.
So, he went out onto the field feeling optimistic. His pack was getting along. There were no supernatural threats trying to kill everyone. Malia was becoming acquainted with the rest of the pack. Lydia had taken her shopping for clothes, which Mr. Tate was extremely grateful for. Things were looking up, he thought.
Then Scott saw the goalie.
Two boys were throwing ball after ball at him. It was to the point that even Scott would have had some difficulty keeping up. But there was no thwack of the ball hitting the net, no frustrated groan as it dove just short of the lacrosse stick. No, the boy caught every. Freaking. Ball. Scott stood there stunned as the boy took off his helmet. His name was Liam; he was a freshman whose stepfather was a doctor at the hospital. The screech of Coach's whistle shook him out of his thoughts. Scott joined Stiles and Isaac as they got in line to run laps. As he stretched his arms behind his back he felt his eyes burn with the desire to change, a primal instinct to maintain dominance. He was an Alpha. He wasn't about to be replaced by some upstart.
Demons discovering the internet was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because Wyatt could monitor demon activity while lying on his bed. A curse because most demons' message boards were disturbed, despicable and grammatical nightmares. Usually only demons born of his generation were on the dark net. Young demons were not powerful, and if the discussion boards were anything to go by, not very good at spelling.
Wyatt wanted to look through these sites to see of anyone had found out where he was. So far, no demon had clue. A fair number believed he had either turned or had taken a trip in time. The Charmed Ones were on a warpath. Many demons wished that wherever Wyatt was, he would return home soon before his mother and aunts vanquished half the Underworld. Wyatt's stomach turned queasy at the thought of what his family must be feeling. For the umpteenth time, he wished there was some way he could tell his family he was okay. But Lilith had forbidden it.
Wyatt was about to log off and start his homework when something caught his eye. Beacon Hills Deadpool. Quickly he looked over the post that consisted long list of names and dollar amounts next to them. His eyes stopped at Scott McCall-$20,000,000.
It was a list of chaotic magic creatures. A hit list.
None of the demons on the message board wanted to risk coming to a place where their powers couldn't work just for a chance to make some cash. Beacon Hills was a place even demons feared. But that wouldn't stop human bounty hunters. A couple of names had already been crossed off.
They'll all be dead in a week, one guy wrote.
Who the hell is the Benefactor?
Better them than us.
Wyatt slipped on his jacket. He placed a knife in his boot in case of an attack. He never had used knives or other weapons against mortals before. But this was a unique situation. Beyond a whitelighter's duty to his charges, or a witch's duty to innocents, Wyatt had to protect Scott. If he died, not only would his destiny not be fulfilled, Wyatt's future would be lost.
"Terrible. Horrified. Pathetic. Unbelievably pathetic." Coach looked over the array of exhausted runners. "Is that everyone?"
Stiles bent over the finish line, halfway between a stroke and a nervous breakdown.
"Yeah, that's everyone."
Isaac and Scott each grabbed an arm and hoisted him up. They watched the other boys lie on the field, unable to move. And they watched Liam, doing pushups.
"What is he, is he a werecheetah? Is that even a thing?" Stiles glared at Liam with what little energy he had. So much for being in better shape.
"Maybe he's just that good," Scott said.
"Maybe we should kill him," Isaac said.
Stiles made a gagging sound. "I'm going to puke, take me somewhere."
Isaac and Scott dragged Stiles off to the bathroom.
Lilith said that he couldn't talk to his family or friends. She never mentioned demons.
A bar for demons was located in San Francisco. The place looked like any other dimly lit pub. People at around tables with drinks and fries. A TV near the bar had a baseball game on. The only difference was that when a fight broke out, people threw fireballs instead of knives.
Wyatt had cast a glamour spell and a cloaking spell to hide himself from demons and his family. His orbs now matched his black t-shirt. His face was changed to appear older and less noticeable. A beer in hand, he made his way to the corner of the main room. A group of four men, only a few years older than him, sat there. He took a seat in the empty table next to them. His shaking hands spilled a few drops of beer.
For a few minutes, all he heard them talk about was a female demon three of the guys had slept with. The conversation was not so different from what he'd probably find in another bar. Then one guy bragged about an innocent they murdered. Wyatt had to stop himself from throwing an energy ball at his head. Finally, someone mentioned the deadpool.
"I'd go, but powers don't work in that place. Plus, the reward is money, not powers." The tallest of them downed his third shot. "What's the point?"
"I heard from Ramon that the person behind it was a banshee," a black-robed man said.
"Where'd Ramon hear that," the third man asked.
"From an oracle yesterday."
The tallest one nodded. "Banshees piss me off. They scream too much."
"Just like the girl I was with last night," the fourth one said. They changed the topic back to sex.
A banshee, Wyatt thought. What other banshee was in Beacon Hills besides Lydia?
That evening, Isaac lounged in a chair in the hospital waiting room and reflected on why they couldn't catch a break.
"What is up with you," Stiles asked Scott during practice.
"I don't know, I'm having a really off day."
"Off day? You were dying out there. It caused me actual physical pain to watch you." He pointed to Isaac. "Not that you were doing any better."
Isaac shrugged. Scott had thought he should try out with no wolf powers, even though that was how he made team captain in the first place. Isaac went along with it so he wouldn't upset Scott. Coach had told him earlier that he was on the team either way. With no captain position to defend, he didn't have to care.
Later, towards the end of the practice, Liam showed up Scott and Stiles, pushing past both of them. Isaac was on the other side of the field at the time, but with his heighted senses he heard everything.
"Do over," Malia yelled out from the stands.
"No Malia, don't help," Stiles mumbled. Isaac covered his mouth to muffle his snickering. This could only end in something funny.
"This is practice sweetheart," Coach yelled back. "There are no do overs."
"Ten bucks on Scott and Stiles."
"I'll take that action." Coach blew the whistle. They resumed their previous positions. Isaac didn't even bother trying to hide his amusement.
Once again, Scott and Stiles charged at Liam. Once again, they were knocked to the side. Liam sprinted down the field, pumping his arms up in victory. He didn't notice Isaac's lacrosse stick thrust out in front of him until it was too late.
"Ow! My leg!"
How someone could twist their ankle by tripping over a lacrosse stick, Isaac would never know. If Liam was that pathetic, Isaac thought, he shouldn't even be trying out. Especially since the three of them were pretty sure that Liam had been kicked out of his fancy prep school. It was all Liam's fault, really.
The three of them were in the hospital, waiting for news about Liam. Scott was over by the front desk. He hadn't spoken to him during the car ride there. Isaac couldn't tell if he was mad at him or disappointed. Stiles, who had left to go home twenty minutes ago, had not shut up.
"God Isaac, what are you, seven? Why don't stick out your tongue next time? At least then no one will trip over it."
From the back seat, Isaac had stuck his tongue out at the rearview mirror.
"For the love of God. . ." Stiles had shaken his head. Isaac had grinned.
It was only when Isaac entered the hospital that he remembered Melissa. She would find out about this. She'd probably kick him out. Isaac was more trouble than he was worth. He couldn't blame her. So, while Scott waited for news about Liam, Isaac thought about finding a blanket and sleeping in the woods. It was better than trying to find another place and get kicked out again.
"Hey." As if he could read his thoughts, Scott came over and sat down next to him. Isaac avoided his gaze.
"He's going to be out of practice for a couple of weeks, but it's nothing too serious."
"I'm sorry." He was, actually. He didn't mean to hurt Liam that badly. But he was mostly sorry for himself. At least Liam had a home to go to.
"Isaac." He felt Scott's hand on his shoulder and turned to look at him. "I know you didn't mean it, but next time you need to think things through. You can't just hurt whoever annoys you. Especially since you're a werewolf." Scott sounded disappointed, but not angry.
"I know." Isaac gently pulled his shoulder away.
"My mom will probably ground you."
"Ground me?"
"No TV, no going out unless someone's dying, you know." Scott shrugged. "Probably for a couple of weeks, at most. It was partially an accident."
"I'm not getting kicked out?' Isaac blurted out the words without thinking. Scott was taken back.
"My mom signed the paperwork, remember? You're her foster son. You're not going anywhere."
"Oh." Isaac jumped up before Scott could say something else. "I have to use the bathroom." No way was he crying in front of Scott and everyone in the lobby.
As he splashed water on his face, Isaac felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Matthew was calling. He didn't want an angel lecturing him on top of all of this. He shut his phone off.
Wyatt slapped down a thin stack of papers on the sheriff's desk. Sheriff Stilinski looked up from his coffee, a blank expression on his face.
"A deadpool?"
"Yup. A hit list of every supernatural creature in Beacon Hills. Around 50 of them."
The sheriff scanned the papers. "How much . . . what is Deputy Parrish's name doing here?"
Wyatt took a seat in a chair by the desk. "Beats me. I've already talked to Deaton. He called the people on the list he knows and told them to get out of town. As for the rest of them, I took care of it."
Wyatt kneeled over a cauldron. He ripped pieces of sage and rosemary and mandrake, then sprinkled them in the bowl. He dropped a lit match in next. Smoke drifted up from the cauldron.
"Power of the witches rise
Come to me across the skies
Protect the innocents written here
Let none with ill intent come near."
Wyatt put the pieces of paper in the bowl and watched them burn. His closet smelled of burned herbs.
"Why does Scott's name say 20 grand next to it? Wait, how may zeros is that?" The sheriff tilted the paper. "Is this a typo?"
Wyatt opened his mouth, then closed it again. "Um," he said quietly, "it's 20 million."
"WHAT?!" Sheriff Stilinski jumped out of his chair. "Who in God's name would put a 20 million dollar bounty ON A CHILD?!"
"Don't worry, I'm on it."
"We need to get these kids out of town. We need to find everyone on this list and hide them somewhere. Do the kids know about this?"
"I've been trying to reach them." No one had been answering their phones. But with the spell, they were probably safe for now. Besides, Wyatt thought it was more important to tell the sheriff first. If anyone knew how to deal with assassins in this town, it was probably the cops.
Then again, he mused, these were small town cops, not homicide detectives or federal agents.
On the other hand, when the small town in question was a place like Beacon Hills, the cops all might as well be homicide detectives.
"Well I got a text from Stiles saying they're at the hospital. Apparently, Isaac accidentally tripped a kid in lacrosse and they were going to go check on him."
Accidentally, Wyatt thought. Isaac was a werewolf. That was no accident. The only accident there was when a whitelighter would "accidentally" smack his charge.
Sheriff Stilinski scanned the list again as he threw on his jacket. He paused, then grabbed the paper.
"Wait a second. I know these ones." He pointed to a group of people sharing the last name Walcott. A family. "A mother, father and son were murdered yesterday. The younger son, Sean, is in the hospital right now."
"Someone must already be collecting the bounty," Wyatt said. He wasn't worried. All innocents should be protected for the time being. He followed the sheriff out of his office.
Lydia had done a lot of screaming in the past year. Banshees were called the wailing women in folklore. She didn't know about other banshees, but she lived up to her name. Whenever she felt a sense of cold, blank emptiness in the air, something in her just wanted to scream. And scream. Yet out of all the freaky stuff she had seen in the past year, nothing made her want to scream more than this.
An hour ago, she had wandered into the home of the Walcotts. She knew they had been murdered yesterday. She had never been drawn to places where the bodies had already been found. It was the newly dead and the about to die that called to her. Something had yet to be uncovered. Something dead. Deputy Parrish had come inside the house to investigate the crime scene. Parrish believed that she was psychic and had followed her as she had walked through the house.
There had been a panel. A panel with screaming faces. Only Lydia could see the faces. Only Lydia had known to press the panel open. Inside it was cold. Not only the cold of death, but the cold of a freezer. The two had come upon a meat locker.
Of human meat.
If that wasn't worth screaming over. Lydia didn't know what was.
Wyatt winced in pain as they left the sheriff's station. Sheriff Stilinski stopped as he saw Wyatt lean against the station wall.
"Are you okay?"
Aunt Paige told him that when he got his first charge, there would be a ringing in his ear. But his charge wasn't a mortal or a witch. Instead of ringing, he heard screaming. Loud, screeching screaming.
"What is it?'
"Lydia," he managed to get out before he orbed away.
Scott turned his phone on. Two missed phone calls and three texts flashed on the screen, all from Matthew.
Scott, where are you?
Answer your damn phone.
There's a hit list with your name on it.
It took a few seconds to absorb the information. In those few seconds, Scott heard his mother scream. Without thinking he raced down the hallway until he saw Sean Walcott covered in blood, trying to grab his mom's wrists. His teeth were bared and sharp. Scott roared. He body-slammed Sean to the ground and pinned him there, but Sean wrestled free and kicked him against the wall before taking off down the hall.
Scott sniffed the air. He glanced through an open door into what he assumed was Sean's room. A dead, half disemboweled deputy was sprawled in the floor.
Scott's mom grabbed a railing and pulled herself up. Her scrubs were covered in blood.
"I'm alright. I'm okay."
"Are you sure?"
"Go get that son of a bitch."
Scott listened for the sound of running footsteps and panting. He ran in the direction of Liam's room. Near his room, he stopped. Scott sniffed the air. There was blood. And fear.
"Liam."
Scott heard more panting, mixed in with snarls and growls. He ran to the stairs leading to the roof. The noises grew louder. Scott pushed the door open. Isaac lay on the ground, unconscious. Sean gripped Liam by the throat. Scott heard Liam's little whimpers of fear.
"Don't. You don't need to do this. Whatever it is, whatever you are, we can help you."
"No, you can't."
"Let me help you."
The offer wasn't a cynical attempt to subdue him. He'd seen people twisted by the cruelties of life to know that sometimes people turn into things they didn't choose. He smelled fear from Liam and from Sean.
"Wendigos don't need help," he said, his voice edged with desperation. "We need food!"
Liam screamed as Sean pierced his back with razor claws. He twisted his body away from Sean. They struggled. Scott darted towards them. Sean pushed Liam off the edge of the roof. Scott pushed Sean out of the way. Sean grabbed him by the torso as Scott reached out to Liam, who gripped the ledge of the roof with one hand. Scott tried to grab Liam's arm. But his own arms were held down by a psychotic wendigo, whatever a wendigo was.
"I can't hold on," Liam screamed.
Scott bared his fangs. In the back of his mind came the thought that he was going to bite someone like Peter bit him. But the most pressing thoughts in his head were stop Liam from falling, save Liam. Scott dug his teeth into Liam's arm, holding it in his mouth. Liam screamed in agony. A gunshot was fired. Sean stopped holding onto Scott.
Scott pulled Liam up to the roof. Sean lay dead at their feet. The man who shot Sean stood by the doorway. He held a finger to his lips or rather where his lips would have been if he had a mouth. The man headed down the stairs. Scott was too stunned to try to stop him or ask questions.
Isaac stirred. He opened his eyes. "What happened?"
Scott looked at Liam, who was bleeding and trembling in his arms.
"We have a problem."
"Hold him steady," Scott yelled as Isaac sat in hospital supply closet and struggled to keep Liam's arms at his side. The smell of Liam's fear reeked.
"Please, I don't wanna die, someone save me." Isaac covered Liam's mouth. Muffled squeals and groans were all Liam could say.
Isaac hissed. Scott assumed Liam bit him.
"Shut up Liam," Isaac said. "No can hear you scream anyway."
"Isaac, not helping."
"Then you hold him down!"
Scott dug through a box until he found the duct tape. He ripped off several large pieces. Isaac pinned Liam's arms to the floor as Scott taped them to his side. Then he taped his mouth shut. The legs came last. By the time Scott was done, Liam looked like the cliché kidnap victim. Technically, they were kidnapping him.
Isaac peeked through the door to make sure the coast was clear. Scott hoisted Liam over his shoulder. The two werewolves made a beeline for the back door of the hospital, where patients were unloaded from ambulances. It was abandoned now. Ambulances were being sent to other hospitals as the police investigated the murder of a teenage cannibal on the roof.
Isaac checked his phone. "Allison said she'd be here in two minutes. Kira's with her."
"Okay."
Liam made a noise that sounded like a protest. Scott looked over his shoulder, but couldn't see Liam's face.
"It's okay, Liam. We're not going to hurt you," he said softly.
"Don't worry," Isaac said. "The human sacrifices were in September."
Liam whined loudly.
"Isaac." Scott wanted to kick him. First, he tripped a freshman and twisted his ankle, and then this.
"Well, it is true."
A car horn beeped. Scott heard Allison and Kira talking. He ran outside and quickly threw Liam in the back seat.
"What's going-Scott McCall, did you just kidnap a child?!" Allison gripped the steering wheel.
"Oh my God!" Kira turned her head from Scott to Allison back to Scott again. "Oh my God."
"I'll explain at my house. Just drive!" Scott yelled.
Within seconds the car sped away, taking all five of them from the hospital, and the police.
Wyatt held back Lydia's hair as she puked into a toilet in the sheriff station's bathroom. He couldn't blame her. He was a witch destined to fight demons all his life, and he felt bile in the back of his throat when he saw the "meat locker."
Deputy Parrish was talking with the sheriff in the next room. They were discussing the deadpool. Deputy Parrish was on the list, for five million. He also didn't seem to know why he was on there. There were witches who discovered their powers in their 20's. Wyatt supposed other supernatural creatures worked the same way.
Lydia sobbed into the toilet. Wyatt carefully pulled her into a hug.
"We're all going to die."
"No, we're not. I'm your angel and I'm not going to let that happen."
Poor girl, he thought. She had been through so much. He wished he could heal her pain, heal everyone's pain. But she was strong, too. She had survived through so much.
The sheriff knocked on the door. "You okay in there?"
"Yeah," Wyatt answered.
"Can I come in?"
Lydia wiped her face and flushed the toilet. Wyatt opened the door. The sheriff gave a tired sigh.
"Something happened at the hospital. Sean was killed."
Wyatt nodded. His spell was only supposed to protect innocents.
"We need to round up all these people and hide them somewhere," the sheriff said.
"We could use the loft," Lydia said.
"Loft?' Wyatt helped her stand up.
"Derek's loft. The one where you met Scott. Derek won't care since he's in South America. And there's a security system already in place."
"I'll start tracking people. You two go home, get some rest." The sheriff held up a hand to Wyatt's protests. "I got this."
Scott sat on his bed, his head in his hands. Stiles and Isaac sat on either side of him. In the bathroom, Liam lay in the bathtub, still wrapped up in duct tape.
"So, you bit him," Stiles said, not really a question.
"Yeah."
"And you kidnapped him."
"Yeah."
"And you brought him here."
"Allison said we couldn't bring him to her house," Isaac said. "And Kira was freaking out too much to help. They told us to call them if he gets loose or something."
"This doesn't end with us burying pieces of his body in the desert, does it?" From the bathroom, they heard Liam struggling. Isaac snickered.
"See, this is why I come up with the plans. Your plans suck," Stiles said to Scott.
"Like your plans are any better," Isaac. Stiles reached over and playfully shoved his arm.
"Will you two help me or not?"
"I already helped bring him here," Isaac said. "I'll get arrested either way."
"Okay, fine. Let's just get him out of the tub," Stiles said.
Scott dragged out Liam from the bathroom. Isaac taped his arms and legs to the arms and legs of a desk chair.
"Okay Liam," Stiles said, "here's how we're going to do this. We're going to take the tape off. You start screaming, we put the tape back on. You talk quietly, the tape stays off. Understand?"
Liam nodded quickly. Stiles jerked his head in Liam's direction. The werewolves frowned, and Stiles ripped Liam's tape off. Liam's face twitched, but he didn't say anything.
"Okay Liam, you've seen a lot of confusing and things tonight. And unfortunately, more confusing things are going to happen because of the confusing things that have already happened. Do you understand?" Stiles paused for breath.
"Not really," Liam answered, glaring up at Stiles.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Isaac eyed Stiles with confusion.
"Okay, Isaac, you want to explain?" Stiles made a sweeping gesture in Liam's direction. "Be my guest."
"Okay." Isaac crossed his arms over his chest. "Liam, you're a werewolf now."
"WHAT?!" Liam thrashed in his chair, almost knocking the thing over.
Stiles hastily covered a squirming Liam's mouth with tape. Scott stared at Isaac, open mouthed.
"What?" Isaac shrugged. "Why beat around the bush?"
"Isaac, we don't want to scare him," Scott said.
"What do you want to do, lie?"
"Also, he might not be a werewolf," Stiles said. "There's a chance he could die."
Liam's eyes bulged out as he rocked his chair back and forth, so much so that Scott had to grab the back of the chair to steady it.
"He's not going to die. He would have done it by now," Isaac said. "Derek told me that once." He grabbed the back of the chair too. "Listen, Liam, Scott and I are werewolves. Stiles is human. He used to be demonically possessed, but he's not now. There's also a werecoyote, a kitsune, which is kind of like a werefox but not really, a banshee and another human, who comes from a family of werewolf hunters."
"Alright," Stiles said as Scott crouched down in front of Liam, "Isaac, that's enough explaining."
"Listen, Liam." Scott tried to make his voice soft and reassuring. "You're not going to die. And you're not alone in this. We're going to look after you." He remembered what Derek told him after he saved him from hunters on his first full moon.
"We're brothers now."
Liam looked at him like he was insane. Stiles snorted.
"Really, Scott?"
"I mean it's technically true," Isaac said. "We're of the same pack. So, we're all brothers."
Stiles rolled his eyes. "Oh my God," he muttered.
Isaac was right. Scott and Stiles had been best friends for years (and their parents were not so secretly dating). Isaac was now officially his foster brother. To Scott's amusement, Stiles and Isaac had begun to bicker like siblings. And Scott felt a sense of protectiveness with Liam. Even newly bitten, there was a connection between them.
Scott noticed Liam's eyes were getting a bit red. He heard a muffled sniffle.
"Oh my God, is he crying?" Stiles asked.
Scott hated himself. He hated that he had gotten Liam into all of this. He hated that Liam was crying. He should have done better, done something different.
Scott and Isaac ripped the tape off of Liam. He wiped the tears from his eyes.
"Liam, are you okay?" Scott asked.
Stiles nodded. "Yeah, Liam, we're sorry-"
Liam smashed the chair against Scott's back. He stumbled forward.
"Liam, what the Hell!?" Stiles turned around and Liam punched him in the eye. Isaac tried to grab Liam, but he kicked him right in the groin. Isaac screamed. Liam darted out the door. Scott ran into the hallway and saw him staring down at his now perfectly healed ankle.
Isaac and Stiles came into the hallway, wincing in pain. Stiles clutched his eye. "Get him!" He, Scott and Isaac charged at Liam as they screamed, and he screamed. All four of them tumbled down the stairs and landed in a heap of limbs near the doorway.
Then Matthew teleported in. Of course, Scott thought. When he was struggling to be an alpha, that's when Mr. Perfect Angel showed up.
"What the fuck are you guys doing?"
"Grab him!" Stiles pointed at Liam, who had been momentarily stunned to see an angel appear. Liam darted to the door, only for Matthew to teleport to the front of the door. He grabbed Liam by the shoulders.
"Hey, hey it's alright. No one's going to hurt you. Slow down," he told Liam softly. Scott noticed Liam's muscles relax and wished he could have stopped him as easily. Scott, Isaac and Stiles got up from the floor and watched as Matthew somehow managed to calm Liam down.
"What's going on?"
"Scott bit him," Isaac said.
"What?" Matthew looked surprised, but not shocked. Scott doubted anything could rattle this guy.
"Who are you?' Liam kept staring at him. At least he wasn't trying to leave.
"I'm Matthew, and apparently, I'm your guardian angel too." He took his hands from Liam's shoulders and held out his hand.
Liam hesitantly shook his hand. "My name's Liam."
"Nice to meet you."
"Am I a werewolf?"
Matthew nodded. "I guess so, but with a few months adjustment period, you'll be fine. There's no reason you can't still have a perfectly normal life."
Stiles raised an eyebrow. Scott glared at him. Even if what Matthew said was a lie, it was a nice lie.
"Now Liam, why don't you and Isaac go into the kitchen while I talk to Scott for a few minutes? I'm sure Isaac can answer any of your questions better than I can." He smiled a little, the kind of look a big brother gives to a scared little kid.
Isaac led him into the kitchen. The rest of them headed back upstairs. Once Matthew shut the door, Stiles let out a whistle.
"Did they give you babysitting training up in Heaven?"
"Why the fuck did you bite this guy?! Oh my God Scott, do you know what kind of day I've had? I'm talking demons, assassins, demon assassins."
"He was falling off of a building and my arms were being held down by a-"
"Wendigo, the sheriff told me." He sighed. "Okay, you're right, you had to save him. Right now, we have bigger things to worry about." Matthew pulled out a few folded pieces of paper from his pocket. He held up one. Scott immediately saw his name next to a number with a lot of zeros.
"Someone made a hit list of supernatural creatures in Beacon Hills. And we need to figure out who, before an innocent dies."
"How?" Scott asked.
"I have a lead. All I know is that the person behind it, called "the Benefactor," is a banshee in Beacon Hills."
Stiles tilted his head. "Another banshee? Wait, is Lydia okay? And Allison and Kira?"
"I just warned Kira and her family, and I was with Lydia earlier. They're a bit shaken especially since earlier today Lydia found the wendigo family's meat locker."
"Ew!" Stiles crinkled his nose. "Is she okay?"
"Yeah, I told them to call me if they need me. Right now, I'm going to go check on my lead. You guys deal with Liam."
"Let me help," Scott said.
"Thanks, but it'd be better if I handled it." Matthew teleported away before Scott could argue.
"He's done this longer," Stiles said.
"Yeah." Scott remembered how Matthew said he wasn't part of his pack. He certainly meant it.
Wyatt orbed to a house by a lake about twenty minutes from Beacon Hills. There were no people there, no clothes draped over chairs or used plates. It must have been a vacation home for a wealthier family. The spell he had cast directed him to an upstairs room with white walls and white carpets and bright lighting.
It took him almost half an hour to find the equipment hidden behind one of the walls. Old analog tech that someone had hooked up to the dark side of the internet. Wyatt blasted the machines. They sparked, beeped and fell apart. The deadpool was over.
He stumbled through the house in the dark, too wary of potential unseen residents to use a light. He stubbed his toe against walls and tables and cursed fate for not giving witches night vision too. Wyatt stepped to the right, and an end table holding dark shapes that looked like picture frames fell to the ground. He gave up and flipped on a light.
Broken glass and picture frames were scattered on the ground. Wyatt looked at the pictures on the floor, searching for a clue as to who this banshee was. He picked one up. A mother and her daughter, who couldn't have been older than 13, smiled at him from the docks. Wyatt held it up to the light.
It was Lydia.
There was no other banshee. Lydia was behind it. She suffered because of the supernatural and now she was looking for revenge. She must have stuck her own name in to throw everyone off. And Wyatt had believed her. He had been suckered into her sobbing act and comforted her while she was plotting the deaths of dozens of people.
Wyatt didn't think he should have been surprised. After all, he thought, he was in Beacon Hills because someone betrayed his family. If an Elder could do such a thing, why not a banshee?
