A/N~ Still running behind, still trying my best to catch up with all my writing, still loving all the positive feedback I'm getting. Thank you all so much. Please keep up the wonderful reviews and everything. Hope you continue to enjoy all of my writing. ~A
Chapter 11
Must give us pause.
There's the respect
That makes calamity
Of so long a life.
For who would bear the
Whips and scorns of time.
The oppressors wrong,
The proud man's contempt,
the pangs of despised love.
Stiles hadn't realized either yesterday when he was too preoccupied with taking care of Braeden or last night when he was preoccupied with taking care of his mate. The rooms in this motel were set up strangely. Normally the picture windows for some reason in a motel room were set up to overlook either the parking lot or the pool.
The parking lot for when you were a crook on the run, which they weren't. The pool for hopefully looking at bathing clad beauties, this motel didn't have a pool.
The picture window was in the back of the room, the back of the hotel which looked out over the desert. Which was gorgeous at sunrise and sunset.
Stiles was watching it now as his Mate slept. The two of them were both marked from their lovemaking although Derek's were already healed for the most part. Stiles rolled his shoulders, the sun still hadn't completely risen. Which meant the desert was still colored in a strange gray blue heathery colored haze.
They had left the curtain open to the desert-scape last night as they made love to each other. Stiles pulled on his boxer briefs before standing up. He stretched luxuriously and crossed his arms, peacefully content. As the sun came over the horizon and tipped the distant beaks with light Stiles closed his eyes and opened his arms in the supplicant position.
He inhaled deeply and smelled the ozone before he heard the distant thunder. The forces of good were coming to cleanse the darkness from the town. He had sensed it yesterday as soon as they had entered the town. The Desert Wolf's hell hounds were just the start, someone or something wanted this small town for some reason.
Stiles had used a very small part of the energy from his and Derek's lovemaking to call for backup but because of Braeden's recent taint from the hellhound bite and Derek's being a werewolf they might be endangered by what was coming to take care of the evil in the small town. Stiles wasn't risking Derek's life or the life he had just worked so hard to save.
He hoped the former Marshall was strong enough to travel. Pulling on a pair of jeans out of his small duffle. He had left his backpack with his magical supplies in the other room, with Braeden. He padded into the bathroom soundlessly and managed to close the door to the bathroom without a sound. He brushed his teeth and relieved himself. He washed his hands and then did something he tried not to do on purpose.
Scanned the motel for threats, the three of them were the only inhabitants. other than the manager, who was already in the office. He lived in an apartment attached to the front office.
The older man had been spooked last night when they had burned everything. A black cloud of smoke had come out of the flames with a shriek, the fact it had the general shape of the upper body of a human complete with eye sockets. Stiles would have guessed the manager had probably lost control of his bodily functions, but as the man had run into his apartment and locked the door, the Spark couldn't be sure.
That's why someone had magically called for re-enforcements, and now they were here and Stiles had to get the pair under his care out of here. The powerful beings that had been sent would leave the innocents in the town alone. Stiles would make sure to leave a warning to keep them away from the motel, so the manager wouldn't be endangered. He left the toothbrush drying on the sink as he picked up the pair of room keys and stepped out of the motel room.
The sun was at an angle but the sidewalk was already warming up. His bare feet soaked up the heat, as he went to the other room. He used the key to unlock the door, Stiles had made the temperature more comfortable. Stiles imagined that the venom had actually moved more slowly because of the frigid temperature the wolf had left the room in. Derek had bathed the woman after the dressing and room changes.
Stiles hadn't felt comfortable leaving his Mate alone to bathe his former lover but he didn't feel comfortable watching or participating in the bathing either. So Stiles had his back turned as Derek bathed Braeden. Unfortunately, as Stiles had burned the clothes she had been bitten in and the ones that Derek had left her in, sleep clothes were in short supply.
Stiles had remembered seeing a trick Lydia had pulled with what was basically a huge silk scarf and made a halter dress for the former Marshall out of a flat sheet using the same technique. Luckily the technique had worked and was still intact whenever the Nogitsune had walked into the room.
He was not as careful as the boy when examining the rival for the werewolves attentions. Thanks to the care he and the boy had given however the wound was already healing. "Braeden," he called.
He called her name a couple more times before he got a reaction, a violent one. The woman sat up in the bed so sharply that if the Nogitsune hadn't been in control, Stiles would have a broken nose. She was shuffling in the sheets for the gun undoubtedly. The fox lifted it from the TV stand near the bed and said, "Looking for this?"
When the older woman had lunged off the bed throwing a punch at his face, the Nogitsune had, had enough. He caught the woman's hands and said sharply, "Enough! I swear if you have torn up my good work in healing you, I will personally bend you over and spank you like the spoiled brat your acting like."
The woman froze and the Nogitsune loosened his grip slightly but not enough to release the hold on her wrists. "Sit down before you fall down," he said leveraging the woman with the hold he still had on her wrists back onto the bed.
"I suppose you're going to tell me now, that where you come from trying to kill someone is how you say thank you for saving your life?" he said, as he pulled the backpack from the floor and rummaged through it. When the older woman didn't answer the fox spirit said helpfully, "On a scale of one to ten, how is your pain level?"
It was another minute or two before she answered, "What scale would getting hit by a runaway freight train fall under?" she finally asked.
"I think that actually falls under the Richter Scale," and the snort and then hiss of pain from Braeden actually has a smile splitting the lips of the Stiles stand-in. "Sense of humor is intact that's a good sign. Now I'd go about checking your sense of sarcasm as well, if you were a Sour Wolf. Luckily you are merely human so such a test will not have to be performed. Aren't you lucky?" he said with a smirk.
"If you could adjust your very fashionable garment, I need to check your wound and dressing," he added as he pulled out another pair of gloves and a small green jar. He turned back to her in time to see her untie and drop the sheet to the bed.
Luckily it was the Nogitsune in charge and not Stiles, as the younger man would be blushing so hard that his mental faculties would have been impaired by lack of oxygenated blood to the brain. The fox demon merely stared at the woman on the bed as he said coldly, "I am mated. I am aware you knew nothing of that, which is why I am not ripping your throat out. Now please put the sheet back on so I can treat you."
The older woman had the good grace to look a little shame faced as she draped the sheet back over her torso. He was no longer in a friendly mood at all. Pulling out more dressing materials he placed them on the bed beside her.
His movements now were cold, clinical and Braeden felt uncomfortable as he pulled the dressing away from the wound and studied the dressing and then the wound. He wasn't rough but Braeden knew something was going on she wasn't getting. He tossed the old dressing into the trash and said out loud, "Come in Sour Wolf, I left the door unlocked," he said to the air.
The door behind Stiles opened and in walked Derek, which was actually really surprising to Braeden. "What are you doing here?" Braeden asked and realized almost immediately she had asked the wrong question and in the wrong tone of voice.
Stiles had stiffened sharply and there was a darkness in his eyes that was downright chilling. Whereas Derek looked more as if he had slapped him in the face.
"We are here because your Uncle apparently gave you up as a lost cause," the teen said coldly as he tossed the soiled cloth he had been cleaning her wounds with in the can. "Apparently his kind don't treat hellhound wounds, or don't know how to. Depending on which you want to believe."
Braeden looked up at the openly hostile teen in shock. Hands appeared on both of the teens shoulders and rubbed soothingly. The younger man gave a frustrated huff before continuing what he was doing, applying a green gel to the wound in her side. "I offered my services to save you after saving my father of course."
"What happened to your father?" Braeden asked.
"That's not really any of your business, now is it?" Stiles answered as he applied the already prepared dressing one handed while tossing the gloves into the garbage. "We really don't have time for this. I'm going to go get her some clothes. We need to be out of here by noon, get her ready," he said as he pulled the garbage bag out of the trash can and carried it out of the room with him.
Derek opened the blinds and let the early morning light in and shortly afterward they watched as Stiles walked behind the owners apartment. He headed into the desert a short way still bare-chested and barefooted.
He walked a few steps further into the increasing heat of the desert and tossed the garbage into the air before sending a blast of energy they could actually see at it, vaporizing the small bag in mid-air. He then turned and walked back towards the end of the motel and out of their sight.
Braeden had sat up sharply when she had seen the boy vaporize the trash bag. When Derek looked neither startled or even surprised by the show of power, she figured she had missed something. He helped her into the bathroom and sat her on the edge of the tub. Then filled it with tepid water which was apparently all the motel could manage.
After offering her soap and a cloth, and the advise. "Here you go, just remember not to get the wound wet." He left her alone in the bathroom. Braeden stared at the cloth and the closed bathroom door, dumbfounded.
She had definitely missed something. At the time she had been bitten, and she wasn't absolutely sure how long ago that had been now, Derek had been an attentive lover. Very attentive, almost worshipful even. Now he was treating her as clinically as the kid Stiles had been.
When he had rejected her out of hand, Braeden had actually felt a cold chill go through her. She knew even with her scars that she was an attractive woman. From what she had heard about him Stiles had been an inept and useless human member of the Beacon Hills Pack. He had not had any medical or magical training. He wasn't anything special at all, her offering herself to him was more out of gratitude
The fact that the kid had summarily shut her down felt strange to her. She could understand if she thought she wasn't the kids type and that was possible. From what Derek had told her, the teen had been pining for the redhead Banshee since they were in elementary school and more recently had become involved with Derek's cousin Malia.
So there was obviously nothing wrong with the teen's taste, both were beautiful women, to be certain. Braeden was still trying to figure it out when she had finished bathing and stepped out of the bathroom when. To find Derek on the floor looking under the bed, obviously trying to grab something. "Dropped the gun," he said drawing it out to show her.
Braeden merely rolled her eyes and dropped the towel she had worn instead of the sheet. She rummaged in her back pack for any remaining clothes only to find a tank top, some undies and a pair of socks. She grabbed a tube of lotion and decided to work out her sexual frustrations on Derek instead.
She made a big production of applying the lotion to her skin. It was a little challenging. While whatever Stiles had done had stopped the venom in its tracks and eased the pain dramatically there was still the wound itself and the left over pain, of half her insides being liquefied.. She looked over after a moment and realized Derek wasn't even looking at her.
Braeden could admit she probably had a WTF expression on her face. "Ok what the hell is going on?" She said sharply as she stood up, legs apart and arms akimbo. She masterfully pretended she didn't feel more like falling over on the bed and falling asleep instead of having the ridiculous argument.
Derek looked up from where he was going through the drawers of the chest in the small motel room. His eyes widened and then narrowed as he said, "You need to get dressed before Stiles gets back."
"Why?" she replied a little more sharply than she had intended as she said, "I thought we could have a little alone time since I haven't seen you in a few days."
Those damned eyebrows, one went up knowingly as he asked, "You mean while you were unconscious because of the Hell Hound venom?"
"Well, yeah, but I'm awake now," she said and even she could hear the bit of a petulant whine that was in her voice when she spoke.
Ok and now both eyebrows were up and the smirk was in place as he said, "And you still have a Hell Hound bite in your side."
"Yeah but I feel fine and how is that possible and since when does Sillski do magic or healing or both?"
"For quite a while apparently," Derek said still barely acknowledging Braeden's nudity, "And it's Stilinski by the way."
"Whatever," the former Marshall said waspishly. Then a sly look crosses her face as she sashays over to Derek seductively.
Suspicious eyes meet the woman's dark ones and she forcefully rips the werewolves shirt down the middle Derek grabs her wrists and pushes back slightly, still very careful not to hurt the woman as he said, "Get dressed Braeden, we don't have time for this. Stiles will be back shortly with the clothes for you."
"Good maybe he'll learn something," she said tauntingly and Derek saw something nasty in that expression. He pushed her back farther and with slightly less care.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Derek asked and there was an edge to his voice that Braeden had never heard before. She wisely didn't answer and Derek asked, "Braeden?"
Before she could answer, the door clicked open behind her and Stiles said, "She tried to seduce me too. It didn't take, she thinks its inexperience that was holding me back. Here. I was able to rescue your boots, everything else had to be burned including your leather jacket. Not sure I'm as sorry about that now." He spoke while shoving a bag of clothes and the boots at Braeden's chest.
He literally shoved and Braeden was pushed back a few feet stumbling slightly and feeling the pull on her stitches. He then shoved a red article of clothing at the werewolf. He turned to face Braeden and for just a second she could have sworn she saw a flash of red in his eyes before she blinked and it was gone.
"Get dressed our time here just shortened. Its now a few minutes until nine, we have to be out of here by twelve. Sorry to say we have no more time for you to recuperate from your injuries," the teen said sharply. Derek, the former Alpha was looking at the teen like he was in charge and was moving with a purpose to comply.
Which made Braeden all the more comfortable with not complying, "Why? I kind of like it here." She said laying the clothes on the bed while trying to lie back across it seductively. She had never been this sexual before but she was enjoying it and trying to see what reaction she would get out of the two men.
Stiles merely looked at her coldly and said, "Fine, you can stay. I won't let your vagaries endanger myself or my mate." He turned and faced Derek totally ignoring the woman on the bed. "We have three hours to get out of town."
"What are you talking about Stiles?" Derek asked concerned.
Stiles tells him, "Whatever summoned the Hell Hounds has drawn enough attention to have someone summon cleaners of the supernatural variety. We don't want to be here when they get here."
"What are you talking about?" Braeden asked. Stiles ignored her and continued to explain to Derek.
"Probably a Wicca or something along those lines recognized the signs. You said you dealt with two of them, and who knows how long they had been here. They had probably already made or were making more of their kind by that time. The white worker summoned the cleaners to take care of it
"What do you mean cleaners?" Braeden asked again. This time Stiles decided to answer her.
"You're a former Federal Marshall. You know exactly what the term means. it's the same in the supernatural world as it is in the Mafia or criminal world. Anyone tainted by the dark like the hellhounds or those they have bitten will be eliminated, eradicated from the face of this town." Stiles said and there was a cold, darkness in his eyes that shouldn't be in any teen's eyes.
"They'll be here by noon and they won't discern between someone infected and someone who has been healed of the bite," he glanced over at Derek as he added, "Nor will they discern between a werewolf or someone formerly possessed by a Nogitsune."
He turned away from Braeden and addressed the Alpha and said, "Derek these are the opposite of the Oni, they travel in the daytime, they eliminate the dark, anything their master or creator deems as dark. Meanwhile the demon that summoned the Hell Hounds will still probably get away."
"Demon okay now you're being ridiculous," Braeden interjected once again irritated at being ignored as unimportant, "The Desert Wolf summoned these things to guard her."
"No she didn't she wouldn't have the power. Those things were probably there to retrieve her for whatever summoned them. There main jobs are to obey their summoner and reproduce. They reproduce by biting, they primarily bite males to make more of their kind or…."
Then Stiles looked at Braeden for the first time really. The woman was still standing their nude and said vehemently, "Oh fuck."
