The strawberry blonde eyed me cautiously from across the class room.

'Is there a reason we had to do this here?' I asked, irritated. 'I'm a little old to be in high school.'

'Quit complaining,' Derek ordered, a similarly annoyed look on his face, though I thought it was more directed at me than anything. I glared at him from under my eyelashes. The sour wolf had insisted on being here to witness the first time I met the banshee. He was obviously curious like everyone else (including me) to see what effect I may have on her. So far no one had died, so I wasn't too worried.

Nearly everyone was here, including three new faces I had just met for the first time. There was Kira, the Kitsune, Malia, the were coyote and of course, Lydia. She hadn't said much in the short while we had been gathered in the tiny class room, but I could tell from the way she was looking at me that she was curious.

'I'm not sure exactly what you want me to do?' the banshee asked no one in particular. 'I'm pretty new to this, I don't know how it works.'

'It's okay,' Scott spoke up from behind me. 'We just need to know that you can be around each other without anything bad happening.'

'I don't see why it would,' Lydia said, 'I don't feel anything when I'm around Peter anymore.' Everyone seemed to accept this explanation, but I was entirely confused.

'Who's Peter?' I cut in, turning around to look at Scott. I had heard the name before, but I had yet to learn its significance. It was Stiles who answered.

'Derek's psychotic uncle who Lydia brought back from the dead,' he said matter of factly. I raised my eyebrows at him. 'I'll tell you later,' he said quickly and I nodded. I held eye contact with him for a second and he fiddled with his sleeves uncomfortably. We hadn't talked much, at all really, since he drove me home a few days ago, and to say things were awkward would be an understatement. However, the lack of questions I had been receiving from Scott about some evil maniac who was coming to kill us all told me he had kept our chat to himself, and I was appreciative of that. I turned back around to face Lydia again, now getting more and more annoyed at how long this was taking.

'You've experienced death much more that Peter,' Derek spoke up seriously, his tone lacking the bite it usually contained when addressing me.

'Exactly how many times had you died?' Lydia asked, head tilting to the side a little. I watched as every person in the room leant closer in, as if this was the question they had all been dying to ask.

I smirked. 'You're the banshee, you tell me.'

The tension in the room was irrefutable as the strawberry blonde stepped closer to me. I could visibly see her expression change as she approached, her eyebrows furrowing. I almost wanted to step away from her, terrified at what might happen if she came any closer, but I was frozen where I stood. She seemed to go into some kind of trance like state, her eyes darting around the room like it was filled with voices only she could hear.

Behind me I heard Stiles scramble to his feet and a brooding Derek tell him to shut up. He stumbled his way passed me so he could get a proper look at her, obvious concern on his face.

'Lydia?' he asked quietly. 'Lydia, what can you hear?'

'I… I can hear…' Lydia started as she began to breath heavily. Stiles looked ready to catch her if she collapsed or something but the rest of the room just stood quietly.

'Lydia, what is it?' he asked again. I watched the banshee's eyes flicker to the teen next to me, her eyes slightly glazed over before her eyes focused and she seemed to snap out of whatever daze she was in. And just like that, it was over.

'Damnit,' Lydia cursed. 'It was right there,' she explained, a frustrated look on her face. 'It was like it slipped through my fingers or something.'

'Do you feel anything now?' I asked, confused by her changeable abilities.

She reached out a hand and let it rest on my arm for a second, then retracted it back, face unchanged.

'Nothing,' she replied, seeming disappointed with herself.

'It's okay Lydia,' Kira spoke for the first time. She had a kind face and offered the banshee a sincere and encouraging smile, before walking over to Scott and saying something about how they were going to be late for econ.

I watched as the group filed out of the class room, all apart from Lydia, Malia and myself. They were going to see if Lydia could come up with the next cypher key, cracking the next part of the list. I watched as Malia pulled out an easel and paper in front of Lydia and watched, comically close, the banshee attempt to break the code.

'Please stop hovering,' Lydia asked the girl who was trying to lean over her to see the piece of paper.

'I'm not hovering.' Malia replied. 'I'm waiting. Draw something. Write something. We need to know who else is on that list.' At this I looked up. I too was curious to see who else was on the list, but it was clear that this girl had an ulterior motive.

'You mean; you need to know if you're on the list.' Exactly, I thought.

'If someone's coming to take my head off, then, yeah, I'd like to know,' Malia replied, and I laughed.

'Can't blame you for that,' I said, and the two girls looked at me as if only just realising I was still in the room. 'Could you really not hear anything?' I asked Lydia, referring to what had happened between us earlier.

'No,' she said, but I could tell she wasn't being fully truthful. 'I guess my abilities have just decided to turn off today,' she said as she placed the pencil on the easel and stepped away from the paper looking a little defeated.

'When did they start?' I asked. I had always been curious where a banshee's ability to sense death came from.

'After Peter bit me,' she said simply and I raised my eyebrows again.

'The guy you brought back from the dead?' I asked, and even Malia looked a little baffled at the banshee's words.

'Peter manipulated me,' she said, narrowing her eyes at me defensively. 'I didn't know what I was doing. What about you? How did you get your abilities?' I had inferred from the situation that Scott and Stiles had told them all everything, so it didn't surprise me that Lydia was asking questions.

'I've always been like this,' I replied grimly, though I tried not to show too much emotion.

'Always?' the other girl, Malia, asked.

'As long as I can remember,' I clarified with a tight smile. They both nodded and we fell silent. The room started to grow awkward, mainly because it was clear that all Malia wanted was for Lydia to tell her if she was on the list, and Lydia was never going to do that with me in the room. It was clear she didn't really trust me, obviously because of some 'feeling' she had got from me earlier that she had been unwilling to share.

'I should get going,' I said after a while, and with no protests from the two girls I slipped out of the classroom.


Later on that day I was sat on my couch watching some daytime TV. I was bored out of my mind. I told myself over and over again that it was good for me to have a day to myself, but in reality, I longed to see some more action. In a body that could heal itself from any wound, it was hard to find an activity that could get the adrenaline pumping through my veins like a normal person, and sitting in my small apartment watching a trashy soap was not going to cut it. Another thing was that I had needed to leave my car at the school earlier so I was confined to my small apartment. After leaving the two girls in the classroom I had discovered my battery was flat and since I didn't feel like ringing Stiles for a jump start I had decided I would get the bus home and get him to help me later. Things were still awkward between us and I didn't feel like being alone with him for any length of time. He would start asking questions for sure.

Once home, I had spent a large chunk of the day trying to get the crimson stain out of my carpet with no prevail. I knew already that it would have to be replaced but I really needed something to keep myself occupied.

The sinister sound of an unexpected knock at the door tore my gaze from the TV screen and I switched off the soap, before making my way over. Before me stood a tall man I didn't recognise. He looked to be in his mid to late 30s and bore a smile on his lips that was somewhere between cocky and creepy.

'You must be Alexia,' he said, holding out a hand for me to shake, 'It's nice to finally meet you.' I ignored his outstretched hand and glared at him hostilely. I hated surprise guests at the door, especially when they knew my name, and I didn't know theirs.

'It's Alex actually,' I snapped at him. I hated it when people used my full name.

'Of course,' he said, smile still in place. 'I'm Peter. I'm Derek's…'

'Derek's uncle, I know,' I interrupted him, 'how nice of you to stop by,' I said sarcastically. From what the others had said, this guy was trouble and I wanted to get rid of him as soon as possible. Peter chuckled coldly. 'What do you want?'

'Now, now Alex, no need to be rude. Derek's told me a lot about you,' he said as he pushed past me and into me apartment, eyeing the spot on the floor that was stained with my blood.

'Oh really?' I asked, 'And what exactly has he said?'

'That you can heal, but I wanted to hear it from you, if you don't mind.' I narrowed my eyes at him. He must have some kind of agenda, otherwise he wouldn't have bothered coming.

'It's true,' I said, hoping I sent him the message that I was not intimidated my him in the slightest.

'Good,' he said simply, 'that makes this a lot simpler.'

I was going to ask him what he was talking about but before I knew what was happening, he had pulled out a gun that I doubted was his and had sent two bullets straight through my skull.


My head pounded as I felt it knock against the back of a chair I was sitting in. All I could hear was a loud ringing that made my skull ache. I guess that was to be expected when you get shot in the head. Twice. I slowly blinked my eyes open, pupils rapidly decreasing in size as electric light flooded into them. Two blurry figures stood in front of me and I groaned as the pounding in my head didn't go away.

'You shot her?' an irritated but familiar voice said. 'And brought he here?' the voice deadpanned.

'Yes Derek, I shot her,' the other figure said, 'is that not what you wanted?'

'I said I needed to talk to her!' the voice of Derek Hale shouted at the other man, 'she's never going to trust us now!'

'Oh come on, she was never going to trust us anyway,' the other man said.

The two figures started to come into focus and I could just about see the features of the second man. It was Peter. I could tell they had just noticed that I was awake.

'Morning princess,' Peter smiled condescendingly at me and it was all I could do not to punch him in the face.

'Thanks for shooting me in the head, jackass,' I snarled at him, and I heard Derek snort as I glared at his uncle.

'Well after hearing what Derek told me about you, I needed to see for myself. And I must say, your abilities are very…' he paused, searching for the right word, 'impressive.' It was strange but I could have sworn I heard a hint of jealousy in the older wolf's voice.

'What's it to you?' I seethed at him again. I couldn't take much more of his condescending remarks.

'I'm merely interested,' he said but I could tell it was all bullshit. 'I've never come across anyone quite like you before.'

'What do you want from me?' I asked. This guy was really starting to piss me off.

'I need answers.' The words came from the green eyed wolf who was standing in the shadows behind his uncle. It was then I first noticed where we were. It was some kind of loft, practically empty with a large window letting streaks of light penetrate the dark room.

Derek walked forwards, the beams of light illuminating his striking face. The features were hard, and short stubble graced his defined jawline. As much as I hated him, I couldn't deny that Derek Hale was attractive.

I looked into his brilliantly green eyes, the same ones I had looked into a few weeks ago, only back then his body was that of a 16-year-old boy. His eyes were still the same – still tortured and dark. I wondered what must have happened to make him the way he was, so cold and hostile. He reminded me of myself.

'I'm not telling you anything,' I spat at him. He sighed but didn't look surprised.

He turned back to his uncle and whispered something to him. After a moment, Peter begrudgingly walked over to a spiral staircase in the corner of the room and ascended them, clearly irritated.

'You think just because you told your psychotic uncle to go away that I'm going to spill my guts to you?'

'I thought I would give it a shot,' he said, eyeing me suspiciously like he had done ever since he first found out what I could do.

'What exactly is your problem with me, Hale?' I asked him as I stood from my chair. It was a bad idea. As soon as I was on my feet my head started to spin and I thought I was just going to collapse to the floor like an idiot. To my surprise, Derek's hand snapped out to steady me. His brow furrowed with something that looked like concern and I shook his hand off my arm, telling him I was fine. Even so, I walked over to a large table and used it to support me.

'I don't have a problem with you,' he said, and I raised my eyebrows at him sceptically. 'I have a problem with the people hunting you.' He pulled something out of his pocket and placed it on the table in front of me. 'I took this off the cop at the station, the one who injected you with cyanide.' I looked stared at the photographs in front of me and felt my heart speed up in my chest. They were of me. One of me at the grocery store, one of me in my car, one of me outside of my apartment. I frowned at the piece of paper that was with them. It was a list, but not the list I had come to know as the dead pool. It was a list of all the alias' I had ever used, including my real name, Alexia Marshall, that was at the very top. Beside each one was an address, describing where and when I had used each of these different names over the past four years. The site sent shivers down my spine.

'What is all this,' I asked, my voice with less bite than it usually did when speaking to the werewolf.

'I was hoping you could tell me,' he replied from behind me.

'I don't…'

'Don't lie!' he said, raising his voice. 'I can tell this has nothing to do with the dead pool. These people are after you, and only you, and I need to know why!'

'I have no idea what any of this is!' I yelled back at him. I could tell he didn't believe me, but I wasn't telling him anything. He was starting to get angry, and as he did, he eyes had started to glow a bright amber. I consciously took a step away from him. 'Nice eyes,' I said and he blinked quickly, his eyes returning to their usual colour. He looked like he was about to protest again, but the sound of a cell phone ringing interrupted him.

After a short conversation, he hung up and pinched the top of his nose. It was obviously something important that he had to attend to but he clearly didn't want to end our conversation.

'I have to go to the school,' he said as if I actually cared. 'You're coming with me,' he said as if it was obvious. 'Go wash up, the bathrooms down the hall.' I glared at him when I realised I wasn't going to get away with not going. With a huff I stomped to the bathroom.

The sight that graced me in the mirror was not a pretty one. Where the bullet wounds would have been were large patches of dark, sticky blood. The back of my head was also covered in the crimson liquid where I the bullets went straight through my skull. I didn't have time to shower so I reluctantly stuck my head under the tap in the sink and tried my best to rinse the blood out of my hair. I dried it a little with a small hand towel before pulling it into a messy bun on top of my head. When I looked in the mirror again I still looked pretty horrific, but at least there was no trace of bullet wounds anymore.

I left the bathroom and met an impatient looking Derek in the hall before we made our way down to his car and drove to the high school.


AN: Hope you liked that chapter.

Is there anything you would like to see more of/less of in this story? Hope to update again soon!