~Crown of Thorns~
By: Aerys Krystie.
oOo
His sixteenth year wasn't any better than his fifteenth. He still had contracts to complete. He still helped out during the sword class after school. The only difference was that his bank account was much larger than it was a year ago. The summer just past, he spent a month with Deucalion, refining his skills, growing and maturing as puberty finally left him. The anger at everything died as his hormones settled.
Despite knowing what Matt had done, Jackson wasn't able to find any evidence. Matt, however, was convinced that Jackson had done something to wake up Peter and to cure Derek. Jackson tried to avoid the little puke stain as much as possible at school, but Matt went out of his way to hunt him down. He had spoken to Deucalion about it and was told some very troubling news.
"Pure demonesques are notorious for making hexes and potions that can't be traced."
That was the exact opposite of what Jackson wanted to hear. He would need to either catch Matt doing the hex or spiking someone's drink with the potion. That didn't sound easy, especially with homework picking up and getting ready to pick a college to attend, if he wanted to. He honesty hadn't thought about secondary education, unsure what he would study.
Back at home for the next two months of summer break, Jackson had turned the backyard into his training grounds. His parents made him put everything away whenever they had guests over, such as for Fourth of July. Jackson glanced at his dummies and they wavered out of existence, before he made his way over to the pool. He crouched on the edge of the diving board, staring at his reflection in the rippling water.
He had matured a lot in the face and body. He didn't have the soft curves of a child, but the sharp angles of a man. His flight feathers spilled over the board, dipping into the water. As he grew up, his tastes in just about everything had changed, as well. Designer clothes were starting to lose their luster, unless they fit him perfectly. Most days he could be found wearing black jeans, boots and a white button down shirt that was untucked. It was versatile, cheap and wouldn't anger him if he got blood on it.
As his father fought with the barbeque again, Jackson continued to stare at his reflection. He had managed to avoid Derek for the vast majority of the last seven months, as well. It seemed apparent that Derek was embarrassed that he was dosed and that his uncle had been hexed into a coma. Since he woke up, Peter seemed to get stronger every day, which he learned from Stiles, who had his wings manifest in April. He got to feel the pain of that and took to working at the hospital, as his healing spells were his strongest.
Voices made Jackson look up. The Martin family were the first to arrive, followed quickly by Scott and his mother, Stiles and his father and the Hale family. Jackson turned his eyes back to his reflection. Somehow, he managed to keep his Fallen status still hidden. Stiles had dozens of question for him, wanting to study his feathers as he had noticed the feather he stuck Derek with at the Christmas party.
Stiles shouted to him and waved. Jackson stood up and looked at him, his wings on full display. The feathers looked so soft that he almost wanted to ask if he could touch them and feel them. It seemed that he had oiled his wings that day, their glossiness was practically blinding in the July sun. Jackson turned around and walked off the board, joining the others on the deck. He hugged Stiles, Scott, Cora, Laura and Lydia. Danny's family and the Argents were the next to arrive and join the pack on the deck.
Jackson hugged Danny and Allison, before he decided he was too crowded on the deck. His mind was still on the month he spent with Deucalion and he wished he was there for that day. Spending time around less people was probably a bad thing, considering his profession. He needed to know how to mingle with people and pretend he was normal. He ignored the way Mister Martin turned his nose up when he saw Jackson had his ethereal wings out. Presenting as human around people that thought of him as Disgraced was stupid and he wasn't going to do that just to put one bigot at ease.
Stiles blocked his path on one side of the table and Danny seemed to take the other side. Both stared at him and Jackson swallowed, coming to the conclusion that they weren't going to let him run away and hide in his bedroom. The memories of the previous Fourth of July came to mind and he winced. His sixteenth birthday bash had been canceled, as that was the day his wings came out. He had a small celebration with the named people there, but he left the next day to spend time in Vermont.
Inhaling deeply, Jackson turned to Laura. "How's the business going?" he asked her and she blinked at him.
"Quite well, actually," she answered with a confused smile. "I wasn't sure if you knew what we did."
"You work PR for those running for office around the world," Jackson said with a shrug. He had come across some of their work on his contracts. "I also think you used to be in the assassination business at one stage."
"That would be Uncle Peter, before…" Laura trailed off and sighed. "Yeah, we used to do a lot of shady stuff."
"As far as I can tell, you still do," Mister Martin said and Jackson saw Lydia roll her eyes.
"Dad, can you please keep your opinions to yourself? You don't need to start a fight everywhere."
"He's entitled to his opinion, Lyds," Jackson said as he turned to Mister Martin. "Just as I'm entitle to kick his ass should he say anything about my wings."
"Jackson," his mother warned, a dangerous gleam in her eyes.
Mister Martin's face darkened with anger and Lydia groaned, covering her face with her hands. Danny stood beside her, offering her a comforting arm around her shoulders. Jackson smiled at Mister Martin, though it was probably more a smirk, before he returned his attention to Laura. Misses Martin pulled her husband away, wanting him to calm down and Jackson could happily ignore the man for the rest of the party.
After that, Jackson was allowed to escape. He went into the games room, figuring no one would look for him there. He sat on the billiard table, holding the 8 ball, staring at a picture of a white beach with crystal blue waters. He would assume it was some tropical place. The closest he saw to it was the Cayman Islands, when he killed some investment banker. He enjoyed a day there, before he came back to the States.
"You okay?"
"Fine."
"Funny, you don't look it."
Jackson turned slightly and glared at Derek. "Ever think that maybe I wanted to be alone?"
"It crossed my mind," Derek admitted, resting against the doorframe, crossing his arms.
Jackson ran his eyes over Derek's body, not surprised that he hadn't dressed up for the party. He had filled out more in the past few months, Jackson noticed. His arms were bigger, chest broader and he seemed taller than before. Through the Henley, he could see that Derek's abdomen was definitely a lot more defined, as well. Jackson raised his eyes, taking in the clear eyes that appeared more grey than green. That could be because of the grey shirt he wore, though.
"Then why are you here, annoying me?" Jackson asked as he turned away from Derek, going back to staring at the picture.
"You looked like you needed a friend," Derek said, tone blank.
"I have friends for that."
"Are you scared that what happened last year will happen again?"
"What answer are you looking for, Hale?" Jackson snapped and turned again, glaring at the demonesque. "What are you hoping to achieve here?"
"I was hoping to shoot some pool, but you seem attached to the 8 ball," Derek answered and pushed off the frame. "Also, I wanted to let you know that you shouldn't let Herman Martin anger you so easily."
Jackson shook his head and hopped off the billiard table. He dropped the ball onto the green velvet. "Because you understand what it's like to be the town freak," he said.
"My family doesn't have the best reputation around here, in case you haven't noticed," Derek stated as he uncrossed his arms, Jackson staring at his broad shoulders. "Also, happy birthday for last month."
Jackson blinked and raised his eyes, seeing the lazy, lopsided smile on Derek's face. "Thanks."
"I wanted to get you a gift, but then I realized I have no idea what you like." Derek ran his eyes over Jackson, taking in the somewhat sloppy attire he favored recently. "At first I thought designer brands, as you always wore them. But you've decided against most of them, it seems."
"I don't need or want gifts," Jackson stated, his wings covering his body as Derek continued to look at him. Derek got the message and raised his eyes, staring at Jackson blankly. "Usually a text message is enough."
"I don't have your number," Derek said with a shrug.
"Well, you're a smart guy. I'm sure you'll figure out how to get it." Jackson stared at a point over Derek's shoulder, wanting something to look at that wasn't the demonesque. "I'm almost certain Danny would give it to you if you promised him a kiss…or a strip tease." His eyes flicked to Derek's face in time to see his eyes widen and his mouth fall open. He laughed, wings finally resettling behind him.
"I…I'm not sure what to say to that," Derek said and cleared his throat, crossing his arms. Jackson was almost certain he was wishing for wings to cover his body.
"Say to what?" Stiles asked, looking over Derek's shoulder. "This is where you two disappeared to. I was knocking on your bedroom door for like ten minutes." He groaned and shook his head. "Are we moving the party in here?"
"No," Derek and Jackson answered. Jackson smiled. "I just needed a moment alone," he added.
"A moment alone…with Derek?" Stiles' eyes widened and he held his hands up. "Shit, did I interrupt a moment or something? I didn't mean to."
Jackson shook his head and stepped past Derek, keeping his wings behind him. "No, no moment ruined or anything like that," he said, keeping the disappointment from his voice. He dropped an arm around Stiles' neck. "I was thinking of taking a swim, though."
"Hells yes." Stiles grinned.
As they moved down the hallway, Jackson was certain he heard the pool balls clack. His mind wandered to how good Derek would look, bent over the table, lining up a shot. He mentally shook his head, deciding that a dip in the cold pool water was definitely needed.
oOo
For the next five months, Jackson barely saw the Hale family. Contracts and school kept him busier than he expected. He barely had time to work on his physical appearance. If it wasn't for the fact that he woke up three hours earlier than he needed, he would barely have time to get a run and fly in. The contracts kept his sword skills sharp. School was keeping his brain, somewhat, sharp. Most of the days he was too tired to apply himself, but still managed to stay above the required C average.
One December morning, Jackson opened his eyes to grey skies and falling snow. He sighed and closed his eyes, wanting to stay under the warm covers. He shivered and was almost asleep again when his phone vibrated. Groaning, Jackson turned off the alarm and rolled over. Again, he was almost asleep when his alarm clock beeped at him. Opening his eyes, he glared at the device and growled. He turned it off and sat on the edge of his bed, stretching his arms above his head and his wings behind him.
After he was finished in the bathroom, he was pulling on his running gear when his phone vibrated. Checking the message, Jackson sighed softly. Less and less contracts were coming through via 'Divine Intervention' as more and more people learned about him. Beacon Hills still thought he was only Disgraced and he could live with that. The number that just texted him was a Beacon Hills one and he decided to deal with it after his run in the preserve and his flight back home.
When he was dressed, Jackson checked the message and found that it was a contract. He opened the file that was sent and frowned at it. The contract was in New York. It had been a long while since he was last there, most of his contracts taking him out of the country. He locked his phone, grabbed his iPod and put in the earphones, before he left the house, stretched and hid his wings. He still didn't like having them on display. People were weird when they saw his wings.
Angelesques stared at them, as though they couldn't believe what they were seeing. Most were terrified, some going as far as to hide their children, as though he would snatch them away. Demonesques had almost the opposite reaction. They preferred to smirk knowingly at him, as though they knew what he really was. Danny was the only person, aside from his parents, to see his halo. Walking through Beacon Hills with his wings out was a chore for Jackson, so most of the time, he still kept them hidden.
Matt Daehler, the little puke, was convinced that Jackson wasn't just Disgraced. He was trying ways to anger to Jackson into showing off his halo. Deucalion's words ran through his mind every time he felt his anger spike. Never show your halo. Deucalion was only Disgraced and he knew to keep his halo hidden. Jackson had the crown of thorns as a reminder. What that reminder was of, Jackson couldn't say for certain.
As he moved through a popular trail of the preserve, Jackson's mind wandered. What was it a reminder of? A reminder that he wasn't a typical angelesque. A reminder that he was adopted. A reminder that he was only a tool for others. No, that last one wasn't right. He had the option to turn down contracts. If he was being double-booked for something, he turned down the second contract. Those that were denied by him got angry, until they remembered what they were speaking with. Annoying a Fallen was a sure way to lose their head.
Jackson shook his head, shoving those thoughts away. Thinking on what couldn't be changed was a great way to lose his mind. After his run, he would get ready for school and respond to the text message. He didn't like the fact that someone had messaged him at four-thirty in the morning, as though they knew he woke up around that time. Aside from being creepy as hell that someone knew his routine, it made him curious about who spent that much time watching him.
Ahead of him, Jackson frowned at the back of someone. Despite the chill in the air and the snow falling around them, the person was running shirtless and in jeans. Jackson had no idea how they were moving so effortlessly. He narrowed his eyes slightly, seeing something between the shoulders on the back. It was some kind of tattoo, but he couldn't hazard a guess of what it was and he couldn't get close enough to fully decern it. The other turned off the trail suddenly and Jackson raised an eyebrow, continuing on his path.
When he was at his turn around point, Jackson leaned against a tree as he stretched out, eyes focused on the snow that was falling around him. He tilted his head back and smiled, closing his eyes as he felt the delicate flakes land on his face and melt. He opened his eyes and leveled his head, knowing that someone was behind him. He was off the trail, giving whoever was back there plenty of space to move around him. The song changed and he turned around, blinking up at Derek.
Derek's mouth was moving and Jackson turned down his music, removing the earphones. "What?"
"You should be careful around here," Derek said, crossing his arms. He was wearing a pale grey Henley, which was sticking to him, reminding Jackson of the body hidden. "There have been attacks on joggers in the last few weeks."
Jackson frowned. He knew he had been away from the town a bit, but he didn't expect that kind of news. His parents would have warned him about it, considering he jogged through the woods every day. He nodded and stepped around Derek. "Thanks for the heads up," he said distractedly.
Derek nodded and walked up the trail, while Jackson jogged down it. His mind wandered to who would attack people jogging in the woods. He would assume there hadn't been any deaths and got the feeling he would be dragged in for questioning, even if the Sheriff and deputies couldn't arrest him. He hadn't felt a threat in the area, but that could be because whoever was attacking others wasn't threatening him.
Jackson entered the house as his mother was coming down the stairs. He smiled as he passed her, turning off his iPod and tossing it onto his bed. He showered and dressed for school, checking his homework and his assignments. The teachers were getting annoyed with him spending so much time out of school, but they were told the accident story. All his time out of school was because of relapses.
After making changes to his English book report, Jackson glanced over his shoulder when someone knocked on his window. He frowned and blinked as he found Scott crouched outside his window. Scott waved at him and Jackson shook his head, unlocking the window and opening it. Scott slipped inside and shivered, brushing snow from his hair and shoulders. Jackson closed the window and turned around.
"Are you insane, McCall? My doorbell works," Jackson said with a shake of his head and saved the report on his laptop. "What's up?"
"I was wondering if you could help me," Scott said, pulling his jacket around his body more as he waited for the heating to work its magic on him. "I've been getting close with Allison," he went on and Jackson turned around in his chair, raising an eyebrow.
"If you're gonna ask me to teach you how to kiss, ask Danny. He'd probably be a better teacher than me," Jackson said and grinned as Scott blushed and shook his head.
"No! I mean…maybe. I don't know!" Scott groaned, running his hands through his hair. "You manage to play it so cool with Lydia," he said and looked up, reminding Jackson of a kicked puppy.
"That's because Lydia and I are friends," Jackson said with a shrug.
"Really? But you kissed her at the Christmas party last year."
Jackson frowned. "I also kissed Danny. There was mistletoe, man."
"Oh." Scott lowered his eyes. "That explains why Allison kissed me," he said and sat on the bed. "Her dad will probably challenge me when he realizes how serious we're getting. Could you give me a hand?"
"Are mate duels allowed to be tag-team?" Jackson asked as he stood up, grabbing his jacket and pulling on his shoes. "Isn't Derek helping you?"
"I prefer your method of teaching. You literally beat it into us." Scott smiled and Jackson raised an eyebrow.
"I can tell Derek to be more hands on with you," Jackson offered with a shrug. "I'm not taking a student from him. He's a great teacher. And he's demonesque, like you."
Scott sighed and rubbed his neck. "That's why I was hoping you could help. Allison is angelesque. I was hoping to impress her father with some angelesque skills."
Jackson frowned, wondering why Scott would come to him. Stiles would probably be more than happy to help him, until he remembered that he never saw Stiles in the afterschool program. He knew that Danny had a spear, which wouldn't be all that helpful to Scott. He chewed his lower lip, still unsure about helping Scott behind Derek's back.
"Ask Derek if I can show you a few moves. If he agrees, I'll help," he said and Scott groaned, flopping back on the bed. Jackson sighed as he saw his covers messing up. "It's the best I can do, man. I'm not going to face Derek's wrath if he doesn't like his students playing with others." He slapped Scott's knee. "Come on. Have some breakfast with me."
Scott sat up and frowned at Jackson as he went to the bedroom door. "Won't your parents ask how I got in here?" he asked as he stood.
"I'm almost certain they expect someone to sneak in through my window, man." Jackson paused and looked at Scott. "I just hope you don't plan on sneaking in."
Scott shook his head. "I know not to mess with someone's potential mate, man."
Jackson frowned and spun around. "What? Who's potential mate am I meant to be?" he asked.
"Dude, have you seen yourself? Even in jeans, boots and a shirt, you're fucking gorgeous," Scott said and his eyes widened. "Oh god. Please don't tell anyone I said that." He covered his face with his hands and groaned, sounding like he was in actual pain.
Jackson cleared his throat, wings appearing behind him and wrapping around him. That was probably the most awkward he had ever felt. "I swear those words will never leave my mouth," he promised, waiting for the embarrassment to die off, before he turned around and went down the stairs.
"Why did I even say that?" Scott muttered and Jackson froze.
Spinning around again, he glared at Scott, who stepped back. "Fear. You said it out of fear. You didn't want to answer my question, so you said something that would change the subject," he said and stepped closer to Scott. "What has you so scared about telling me who my potential mate is, McCall?"
Scott swallowed, eyes on Jackson's wings as they rose high behind him, darkening until they looked like a void in space. He tripped on a step and fell while Jackson loomed over him. "Um…maybe this? You're fucking terrifying when you need to be, Jackson. You scare me."
Jackson ignored the doorbell, smirking down at Scott. "Don't lie to me, Scotty. Tell me what you know."
"Oh geez, Jackson," his mother said, turning from the door and staring at him. "Could you do…whatever that is in your bedroom?"
Jackson straightened and blinked down at her. "I'm having a conversation with a friend," he said and smiled. "You remember Scott McCall, right?" He pulled Scott to his feet, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Scott offered a shaky smile, tensing as one of Jackson's wings wrapped around him.
"Help me," Scott squeaked and winced as Jackson's arm tightened.
Jackson's mother glanced between them, raising an eyebrow. "Okay, then. Enjoy your conversation, boys. This way, Talia."
Talia glanced at them, smiling as she followed Jackson's mother through the dining room. She paused and stepped back. "Oh, Scott. Derek will hear about this," she said, her smile becoming sympathetic.
"We're just talking!"
Jackson pulled back and frowned at Scott. He sounded genuinely terrified about Derek finding out about their conversation. He turned his confused eyes to Talia. She just smiled at them and continued through the living room. "What the hell was that about?"
"I'm gonna have my ass kicked all over the preserve!" Scott's shoulders slumped and he glared at Jackson. "Why couldn't you just focus on me calling you gorgeous?"
Jackson held his hand up. "I don't want to think about it. Come on. If you're gonna have your ass kicked all over the woods, you're going to need breakfast."
Scott whined as he followed Jackson to the kitchen. "After this, Derek is definitely gonna say no to you teaching me some angelesque maneuvers," he said as he sat at the breakfast counter.
Jackson pulled his wings back so he could look at Scott. "Why? If you want to learn them, he can't actually stop you from doing that," he said as he got the eggs and bacon from the fridge.
Scott stared down at the counter as Jackson got the pans and began frying the bacon. "He's just as scary as you are. Unlike you, he won't wait for me to attack first, though." He sighed and looked up. "Why did you have to touch me like that?"
Jackson grabbed the bread and glanced at Scott. "I'm secure in who I am. I thought you were, too," he answered with a shrug, taking out four slices of wholegrain bread.
"I'm secure in who I am," Scott said with a glare, his dark red, deer antler horns shimmered into existence.
Jackson stared at the horns, loving the color of them. "Your horns are beautiful," he said.
Scott blinked, the frown disappearing from his face. He shifted uncomfortably on the stool. "Um…thanks. I think. I don't really like the color."
Jackson grinned. "I love the color. It reminds me of arterial spray. It's glorious." His eyes flashed as he looked at Scott. "The shape is nice, too."
Scott's face froze and he almost seemed to stop breathing. "How… How do you know what arterial spray looks like? How do you know what color it is?"
Jackson plated the bacon and eggs, placing one in front of Scott with a knife and fork. "You don't want to see what my internet search history is," he said with a smirk.
Scott shrugged and ate his breakfast, keeping his eyes down. "What do you think of Derek, anyway?"
Jackson looked up, licking the corner of his mouth. "He's a great swordsman. His magic is phenomenal. He's sort of like an older brother. Someone you can annoy the hell out of, but can hand back to his parents later." He grinned and finished his bacon.
"Harsh," Scott muttered. "You mind giving me a lift to school, as well? I may as well go all out for the ass kicking."
Jackson nodded, putting their plates in the sink. "You want me to call you 'sweetie,' as well?" he asked as grabbed the orange juice from the fridge.
Scott shook his head. "Hell no! I'm pretty sure that would result in my death."
Jackson poured the juice into glasses, handing one to Scott. "If it'll make you feel any better, I can go with you to your lesson. Derek can't be that much of a dick with a witness, right?"
Scott's hand shook as he stared at Jackson with wide eyes. "Please don't get anywhere near the preserve after school today," he begged weakly and lowered the glass.
"I'm not gonna let him kill you because we were having a conversation," Jackson said with a shrug, returning the juice to the fridge. "Besides, I want to see how good you've gotten with your sword."
"I'm gonna die," Scott whimpered and dropped his head. "Just promise me one thing, please." He looked up, eyes pleading and Jackson raised an eyebrow. "Make sure he kills me quickly."
"I won't let him kill you, McCall." Jackson grinned and ruffled Scott's hair. "I'll step in if it looks like he's going too hard on you."
Scott nodded. "I guess that's better than nothing. We should probably head off."
Jackson finished his juice and ran upstairs, grabbing his books and bag. He checked his phone and frowned, when he remembered the text message he received. He quickly sent through that he would accept the contract, as it was that Saturday and he didn't have anything else planned for it. Spending the night in New York sounded like a good time, to him.
During second period, Jackson received an email. He frowned at the sender, seeing that it was just random numbers and letters. A throwaway email. Raising an eyebrow, he opened the email and saw that it was a two tickets to a gala on Saturday. Blinking, Jackson sat back, staring at the tickets. He shook his head and stood up, leaving the classroom, despite the teacher staring at him.
Calling the number that texted him, Jackson waited. "Hale," a male voice said.
Jackson froze and lowered his hand, staring at his phone. He hung up and swallowed. The Hales couldn't know he was a Fallen, could they? No. They must have gotten his number from someone else and didn't realize it belonged to him. Either way, he couldn't let the person on the other end hear his voice. He brought up the app that modulated his voice and redialed the number, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves.
"Hale."
"I work alone," Jackson stated.
"You'll be taking someone with you. She'll meet you there. You can count on her."
The voice was full of confidence and Jackson raised an eyebrow. "I better be able to, Hale. Or I'll send her back to you in pieces." He hung up, turning off the voice modulator. He glared at his phone, unable to believe someone wanted him babysat. Did they not know he was a Fallen? He shook his head and returned to class, not making any excuses for the teacher. He just sat down and waited for school to finish.
After school, Jackson drove Scott over to the Hale manor. He sat on the trunk of his car, a birthday present from his folks. A Porsche he didn't want, as he had his eye on a different car. Imported, as well. Still, it got him where he needed to go. He shivered and pulled his jacket around his body as Scott waited in the snow for Derek to come out. When he did, Jackson's eyes widened.
Derek had a dark scowl on his face, sword materializing in his hand as he approached Scott, who gulped. Scott barely had time to bring his own sword up as Derek went in for an attack. Jackson's lips parted as Derek didn't go easy on Scott, despite him clearly not being on the same level. In seconds, Derek had knocked the sword from Scott's hand and was glaring down at him, sword to his throat. It was honestly the sexiest thing Jackson had ever seen.
"I swear, nothing happened," Scott said as Derek crouched down.
Derek growled and drew his sword back. Jackson slipped off the car and his sword clashed with Derek's. He shoved the demonesque back, standing in front of Scott. Derek frowned, looking between Jackson and what he could see of Scott around Jackson's impressive wings. Pain flashed through his eyes and Jackson blinked, unsure if he saw that or not.
"I don't know what's got your tail in a knot, but you don't take it out on someone that isn't on your level," Jackson said, his wings drawing back and up. "You could have killed him!"
Derek glanced between them and nodded. "I'm sorry. I didn't know," he said, his sword disappearing.
"Didn't know what?"
Scott sighed and stood up, dusting off his pants that were already soaked. "He thinks you're claiming me as a potential mate," he said and Jackson's eyes widened.
Spinning around, Jackson stared at Scott and then at Derek, before he burst out laughing. "You're joking, right? Scott?! He can barely handle his sword."
Derek blinked as Scott lowered his head, pouting down at the snow covered ground. "You just defended him," Derek said.
Jackson frowned. "Just because I don't want him as a mate doesn't mean I don't want him as a friend. You were going to kill one of my friends."
Derek crossed his arms and glared down at the snow, mouth pursed as though he just sucked on a lemon. Jackson frowned at him and then at Scott, trying to figure out what he was missing. "Oh my god. Whatever. I need to pack," he said and shook his head. Neither of them were going to tell him what he wanted to hear. "I'll be training with Scott, as well," he called over his shoulder. "Try not to kill him."
Slipping into his car, Jackson started it, seeing Derek speaking with Scott, who was nodding. He backed away and turned his car around, knowing that packing was a lie. He was going to replay those seconds of Derek wailing on Scott. The effortless swings and power behind them made a tingle run down Jackson's spine. That was the kind of power he wanted to see when they sparred, before it ended so pathetically soon. Once he had taken care of that problem between his legs, he could focus on New York.
oOo
Friday night, Jackson met his date for the gala. She nodded at him and they entered the hotel together, going to the same room. No words were spoken, as introductions weren't needed. Jackson's just stared at Laura. He had no idea why he was working so closely with one of them, as he was certain he had taken contracts from the Hales before. None of them had been this direct, though. This time, they had messaged him specifically.
"How was your Thanksgiving?" Laura asked as she unpacked her suitcase.
"Filled with people I don't care about," Jackson answered and hung up his suit. "Yours?"
"Filled with people I do care about," Laura said with a grin. "I heard that you had some excitement at school."
"If you want to call it that," Jackson said with a shrug, rolling his shoulders. The excitement was Allison, somehow, hearing about Jackson defending Scott from Derek, which just opened a can of worms he didn't want to think about before a contract.
"Is it true that Fallens can hide their real wings?" Laura asked as she turned to Jackson, staring at his wings.
Jackson flexed his ethereal wings, which had taken on the appearance of being real. "Do these look solid to you?" He smirked when she grinned at him. "Hemlock or cyanide?" he asked as he removed his shirt.
"Tough choice," Laura said as she went into the bathroom to set up her toiletries. "Hemlock isn't used that often, anymore. I think that'll be the way to go."
"Sounds good to me," Jackson agreed, undoing his jeans. He pulled on his pajamas, feeling the material of the shirt slide against his wings. "By the time they figure it out, we should be back in Beacon Hills."
"Sounds good to me," Laura said as she came out of the bathroom. "Turn around."
Jackson did as he was told, gazing down at the carpet of the room. He could hear Laura undressing behind him and hummed to himself. While the Hale family was filled with beautiful people, Jackson had found himself eyeing her brother more than her. If she made a move on him, Jackson wasn't going to turn her down, though. Sex wasn't something that entered his mind often, but when it did, he could think of all the positions Derek Hale could bend him into.
"You can turn around now," Laura said as she sat on the bed closest to the balcony and turned on the TV. "Are you looking forward to tomorrow?"
"I think it'll be fun," Jackson answered with a shrug and threw most of the pillows off the bed. "I haven't worn that Gucci suit in a while, though."
Laura gazed at Jackson, a lazy smile on her face. "I keep forgetting that you have expensive tastes," she said and then realized the hotel they were staying in was at her request. "I guess it just runs in our families."
Jackson laughed and slipped under the covers of his bed, after turning off the lights. "Goodnight, Laura."
"Night, Jackson."
Once he was dressed, Jackson made his wings invisible, knowing that everyone would watch him if they knew he had black wings. Laura came out of the bathroom in a sleek red dress. Her gold horns, looking like rose branches and tail were on full display. She smiled as Jackson opened the door for her and they left the room, heading down and into the waiting car that the mark had sent for them.
In the backseat, Jackson and Laura checked their phones, sending text messages to those that were worried about them. Laura had her entire family, while Jackson had Stiles, Danny and Scott. He hadn't told any of them what he was doing, but when he said, 'I need to attend a gala in New York,' Stiles and Danny knew what he was doing. Both wanted to make sure Jackson knew what he was doing and that he wouldn't get hurt.
Unknown: Don't fuck this up.
Jackson raised an eyebrow and showed his phone to Laura. "Yeah, that's Derek. This is our first time using you, directly. He's a little worried about using someone local," she explained and Jackson raised an eyebrow.
If he didn't know any better, Jackson would swear that Derek doubted him. He ignored the text message and went back to talking with Stiles and Danny, as Scott was too scared to speak with him after the hell Derek gave him. Fucking up a contract wasn't something Jackson was known for. Surely, the Hales knew what he was like. They had to know what all Fallens were like, otherwise why use one? It wasn't often that the Hales employed a Fallen, but when they did, it was for something massive.
Once they pulled up in front of a different hotel, Jackson ended the conversation with his friends. The driver opened the door for them, wishing them a goodnight. Jackson and Laura glanced at each other, smirking. They nodded at the doorman as he welcomed them and made their way towards the ballroom. Jackson immediately grabbed a chute of champagne and sipped it, surveying the room.
Old and young alike mingled with each other. It was a fundraiser to help with grace poisoning for new angelesques. That was nice of them. Grace poisoning killed a third of new angelesques every year. There was no cure for it, but that didn't stop others from trying to find one. If the grace entered the body violently, it was up to the will of the angelesque to fight it and pull through.
Eyes narrowed, Jackson found the mark. It was a middle-aged man that was smiling a lot and shaking hands with everyone that crossed his path. Glancing at Laura, she shook her head and he nodded. Plastering a smile on his face, Jackson mingled with the people. He saw horns and wings everywhere and he was the only presenting human in the room. The mark was a demonesque, his black, ram-like horns shone like they were polished that hour.
After a short time, the mark crossed paths with Jackson. The man grinned and shook his hand. "Nice to meet you. I'm Adrian Harris," he said.
"Jackson Whittemore," Jackson greeted, giving the man a firm grip.
"Of the Beacon Hills Whittemores?" Adrian asked, running his eyes over Jackson.
"The one and only," Jackson said, really disliking the way the man looked at him. "It's a great cause you've got going here," he added.
"Angelesques are needed as much as demonesques," Adrian said and finally released Jackson's hand. "Enjoy the party and don't forget to donate!"
Jackson smirked. "I'll consider it," he said and Adrian frowned at him, before his attention was taken by an older woman, who greeted him like an old friend.
"You handled that well," Laura said as she stood beside Jackson, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "I should never doubt myself again."
"Fallens have the best of both worlds," Jackson said and finished the champagne. It was some of the cheapest champagne he had ever drunk. "You should introduce yourself to him, too."
"He already knows who I am," Laura stated, sipping her champagne. "Kill him after his speech."
Jackson nodded and went back to conversing with random people. Many wanted to know if he was a pure human and Jackson gave them small smiles, appearing a little embarrassed. He got the sympathy of the angelesques, while the demonesques decided he wasn't of any use to them. He found that one couple had lost their child to grace poisoning, which was why they were happy about the fundraiser. Jackson was bored out of his mind, but remembered to offer his condolences to them.
Adrian continued to speak to the guests, which had Jackson curious. It wasn't often that he asked questions about his marks, but there didn't seem a reason to kill Adrian. Pulling his cell phone out, he went to text Derek and stopped. He couldn't send out a text message while on a contract. Instead, he found Laura and went to ask her, when some tipsy demonesque slung an arm around her shoulders. Jackson narrowed his eyes, ready to kick the shit out him, when Laura smiled kindly.
"Your horns are pretty," the man said with a smirk, staring at the gold horns.
"Thank you," Laura said politely and shrugged his arm from her body. "I'm Laura Hale."
The man's eyes widened and he straightened, taking a step back. He nodded at her and found some other poor woman to try and seduce. Jackson glanced at Laura and smirked as she giggled. He forgot how powerful the Hale name was amongst the social elite. His question about Adrian Harris was forgotten as the lights dimmed slightly, which was apparently some kind of signal.
Adrian grinned as he went up to a podium and held his hands up, wanting silence. "As you know, a third of all new angelesques die from grace poisoning every year," he said and appeared genuinely saddened by the fact. "An angelesque's grace is unique, so finding a quick fix isn't possible. Finding a cure-all isn't possible, either. But we can find a common thread between the grace and hopefully that will stop parents from losing their children and hopefully bring up the angelesque population."
The crowd clapped and Adrian smiled at them. Jackson's eyes widened a fraction when he saw the mask slip. He knew why Adrian Harris was on the Hales' list of demonesques to kill. Crossing his arms, he straightened and waited for the opportunity to kill that bastard. Taking advantage of charities was one of the lowest things anyone could do. It was exceptionally bad for a demonesque and not very creative, either.
"As someone that has many angelesque friends, I feel their pain, as well. That's why I'm asking you to dig deep, mostly into those unallocated funds," he said with a grin and many of the guests chuckled. "To help us find a cure for grace poisoning and help families stay together!"
The crowd cheered and clapped, while Adrian grinned at them and stepped away from the podium. Laura had her checkbook out. Jackson frowned at her. "It's a legitimate cause. Just because he's a slimy piece of shit doesn't mean we aren't going to help out," she said with a shrug.
Jackson nodded and grabbed a shrimp, dipping it into a sauce. He ate it as he watched Adrian move through the crowd, shaking hands and thanking those that were donating. Adrian moved closer to he and Laura, who had removed the cheque and folded it. She smiled at Adrian, shaking his hand and handing him the cheque. Adrian turned to Jackson, holding his hand out. Jackson shook his hand.
"I'll do a direct transfer, if you don't mind," Jackson said and Adrian grinned. "Będę się za ciebie modlił."
The grin faltered for a moment. "That's perfect. Thank you, Miss Hale and Mister Whittemore."
Adrian turned his back to the pair, accepting a cheque from someone else. Jackson twisted his left hand, a black feather with a violet sheen appearing in his hand. He glanced at Laura and she nodded. The feather went into the base of Adrian's hair and vanished when Jackson snapped his fingers. Jackson smiled and grabbed another chute of champagne, sipping it as Adrian continued to make his way through the crowd. Twelve minutes after he thanked Jackson and Laura, he stumbled, apologizing to a woman he walked into.
As the minutes went by, Jackson and Laura speaking with others, Adrian was rubbing his abdomen and complaining about a burning. Adrian's speech began thickening and slurring as the ability to talk was slowly disappearing from him. Nearly half an hour after shaking hands with Jackson and Laura, Adrian Harris convulsed and collapsed to the floor, a scream erupting from a woman.
Like everyone else, Jackson and Laura looked over at the scene and pushed their way forward, wanting to see what all the commotion was about. An angelesque was trying to find a pulse on Adrian, while several people called for an ambulance. The angelesque shook his head, saying that the police are needed. Jackson and Laura glanced at each other. It was going to be a long night.
End Chapter.
Thanks for reading. Hope y'all enjoyed it.
Nameless in Seat: Thanks for the review. More is coming, I promise. Hope you enjoyed this chapter as well. Can't wait to hear from you again.
Until the next one!
Peace.
Auska.