Sorry this took so long, thank you for your patience.
To Phoenix Crest, lokidoki9, paulavara140, and Merrick Whitlock: Thank you all so much! I'm so glad you guys are enjoying the story, and that you like Loki!
Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf.
"Loki, come on. Just leave and come join us in London. This is insane." Loki rolled her eyes as she leaned against the stair railing at Lydia's lakehouse. Lydia was currently in the room with the record player, trying to figure out the other cipher keys, and Malia and Kira were with her. Aiden had called Loki, and she had stepped out of the room to talk to him and his brother as to not distract Lydia.
"Aiden, chill out, okay? I'm going to be fine. And I'm staying here." Aiden snorted on the other end of the phone line.
"Lo, there are literally dozens of people out there who would kill you for free as long as they know where you are. Now they're getting twenty-three million dollars for it? Who's going to hold back from that offer?"
"Aiden," she said again. "Listen to me. I'm not leaving. I can take care of myself. And," she said, looking up the stairs. Kira and Malia had exited the room, guiding Lydia out between them. Lydia looked dazed, but not in the supernatural-Banshee way, more-so in an exhausted/frustrated-human way. "I got to go. Say hi to Ethan for me." Loki hung up, not giving her friend a chance to respond.
"Everything okay?" Kira asked, sounding concerned. Loki nodded, turning her phone off and putting it in her pocket.
"Yeah. The twins are just…worried."
The next day, Loki sat in Economics class with Stiles and Scott. As Coach lectured the students on economic disparity, using public and private schools as an example, Stiles sorted through pictures of the recent crime scenes. He seemed particularly interested in the close up picture of Carrie's chest. The stab wounds were deep slashes, and around them was a curious mark – a hexagonal imprint.
As the lacrosse Coach moved down the isle of desks, he continued to plainly complain about the lack of good equipment the Beacon Hills lacrosse team had as an example of economic disparity. When he saw the pictures spread out on Stiles' desk, he paused, and then suddenly banged the lacrosse stick he was carrying down on the edge of his desk. Stiles jumped, dropping the photo he was holding.
"You know, Stilinski," Coach said as he knelt down by Stiles' desk. He looked at the pictures, wincing. "If I could grade you on how profoundly you disturb me, you'd be an A plus student."
"Thanks, Coach," Stiles said. It was hard to tell if he was joking or not. The Coach grunted, banging his stick against the desk again.
"Put those pictures away." The teenager began to shuffle the photos up into a neat pile when he froze. As Coach Finstock turned to leave, Stiles suddenly grabbed onto the end of his lacrosse stick. "Stilinski! What the hell?" Ignoring the coach's outcry, Stiles stared at the butt of the lacrosse stick intently. He pulled off the rubber stopper and held up one of the photos to compare. "What the hell is wrong with you?" The Coach snapped, yanking the stick away. "Actually, don't answer that."
As the older man walked away, Loki and Scott turned towards Stiles expectantly. He looked up at them, eyes wide and bright.
"It's a lacrosse player," he hissed. Loki exhaled, realizing what this meant.
"The killer's on the team," Scott said.
"And you guys have a game tonight," Loki muttered, rubbing her eyes. "Fucking perfect."
As soon as the bell rang for lunch, Loki ran towards the locker rooms. She glanced up and down the hallway to make sure no one was watching, and then slipped inside the men's locker room. Stiles, Scott and Kira were already there, and they called to her from Coach's office.
"We're checking all the sticks," Scott said, poking his head out of the room. Loki nodded, entering the office and joining them in pulling the rubber butts off of the sticks to check inside the shaft. All of them were empty.
After about fifteen minutes of frantic searching, Scott threw down the lacrosse stick in his hands in disgust.
"This is pointless," he said. "Most of the team plays with their own gear." Loki too dropped the stick she was holding, looking up at Scott.
"Then why don't we try to, I don't know, stop the game?" Scott shook his head, adamant.
"The game's the best way to catch him red-handed."
"But what if he's red-handed because his hands are covered with the blood of the person he just stabbed to death?" Stiles pointed out. "Which, by the way, could be either of you guys." Stiles pointed at Scott and Kira. "And I bet Loki's name is somewhere on the other two lists, and she's probably worth – "
"I was on the first one," Loki cut Stiles off. He stared at her, mouth open. She smirked at him. "My name's not actually Loki. It's Elizabeth – Elizabeth Carter." Loki crossed her arms over her chest. "But I don't tell people that. So whoever made these lists knows a hell of a lot more about me than I'm comfortable with."
"The killer could also be targeting Liam," Scott whispered. "We don't have the whole list, he could be on it."
"We don't know anything about that list," Stiles said. "We don't know how it's made, how it's updated…I mean, who's been out taking a supernatural census, anyway?" Kira was staring at the ground. She looked confused, and with her dark hair pulled back into two braids, very young and innocent.
"How do they even know about me?" She wondered aloud.
"They know about everyone," Scott answered his girlfriend. Stiles pressed his lips together, sighing.
"I think Loki's right," Stiles said. "We should stop the game." Loki blinked, and then faked surprise, cupping a hand around her ear.
"I'm sorry, is Sitles agreeing with me? That's how you know this is serious." He rolled his eyes at her, and Loki grinned, before quickly sobering. "But this is. Serious, I mean." Scott shook his head slowly, turning towards his friends.
"I'm not afraid," he said. Kira stepped toward Scott, a similar set in her jaw and a shine in her eyes.
"Neither am I," she agreed. Stiles stared at both of them like they were insane, and Loki rubbed the back of her neck. She wasn't quite sure what to do in a situation like this – when she'd been in her old pack, there wouldn't have even been a discussion. They would have left.
Not that the Alphas were cowards, they were just way more inclined to save themselves than they were to save others. The exact opposite of Scott.
"Well, I'm terrified!" Stiles burst out. "And I'm not even on the list. Guys," he said, slamming his hands down on the table. "These are professional killers, this is their profession. And one of them has a thermal cut wire that cuts heads off." Stiles voice dropped down lower as he waved his hands wildly, trying to gesticulate his point. "Who knows what else they have?" Stiles added, lowering his hands.
"Wolfsbane?" Garret asked his girlfriend incredulously, studying the tube of yellow powder Violet was brandishing. The girl shot him a look, carefully dumping the contents of the test tube into a small beaker with a little water in it. "I thought wolfsbane was purple."
"Not this species," Violet corrected, swishing the mixture back and forth as it fizzed and thickened. "Which is very rare. And very expensive." She emphasized the last word, looking at Garret pointedly. He raised an eyebrow.
"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, defensively. "'Don't screw up?'" Violet narrowed her eyes back at him.
"Don't miss," she corrected. Garret rolled his eyes, smirking. "Okay, all you have to do is nick him. It'll work fast." She walked around the corner of the table so that she was standing right next to Garret. "Even," she continued, giving him a look. "On an Alpha." Garret sighed, shaking his head and looking away.
"We're gonna do this again?" He asked. Violet scowled, slamming the beaker down on the lab table, making the mixture slosh violently.
"I'm just saying, I don't get why we're going after a Beta when there's an Alpha on the field." Garret leaned in closer to Violet, looking her directly in the eye.
"Because an entire pack of Alphas went after McCall and he was the one left standing," Garret hissed. "And speaking of that pack, one of Deucalion's fallen minions will be in the stands. She should be our next target. Before someone else gets to her." Violet inhaled slowly.
"It's a lot of money," she murmured.
"So is the Beta," Garret insisted. Violet sighed in defeat, picking up the wolfsbane mixture again. Garret twisted his lacrosse stick, making the blade pop out of the end. Both young assassins watched, looking almost hypnotized, as the yellow liquid dripped over the point of the blade.
A smirk twisted its way onto Garret's face.
Loki was standing in the breezeway of the school, walking to her next class, when a bus came rolling into the parking lot. The words 'Devenford Prep' were emblazoned in green across the side. She didn't think much of it at first, but hesitated when she saw Liam storming across the parking lot.
"Brett!" he shouted, his voice raspy with anger. Loki bit her lip, walking closer towards the young werewolf, in case he should do something stupid. Mason followed his friend, looking nervous as the blonde stormed up to the tall boy stepping off the bus.
"I just wanted to say," Loki heard Liam say. His voice was low, his breathing heavy. She watched his shoulders shudder like he was trying to control himself, and to Loki's great surprise, the new Beta stuck his hand out. "Have a good game." Loki's own shoulders relaxed, and she glanced to Scott and Stiles, who were hovering nearby. They looked equally as surprised.
Brett glanced from Liam's hand back to his face, like he was waiting for some kind of punch line. Or, quite possibly, an actual punch to be thrown. The brown haired boy glanced back at his friends, all of whom looked like they were trying to stifle laughter – not that it worked.
After a moment of shocked silence, the group of boys from the other high school all burst out laughing, and Liam dropped his outstretched hand, scowling down at the ground.
"That's cute, Liam," Loki heard Brett mock. "Is that what they told you to say in Anger Management? Apologize, and everything's fine?" Liam's shoulders started to heave again, and his hands clenched into fists. Brett's voice lowered, less scornful and more threatening. "You demolished Coach's car."
"I paid for it," Liam insisted, voice low.
"Yeah, you're gonna pay for it," Brett replied. "We're going to break you in half out there. And it's going to be all your fault." The pungent smell of blood hit Loki's nose, and her focus zeroed in on Liam's hands. Sure enough, the thick red liquid was dripping into between his tightly clenched fingers.
Loki and Scott rushed towards Liam, pulling him back. Stiles stepped in front of them, smiling at Brett jovially.
"Hey! What's going on, prep students?" the human asked, glancing back at the three werewolves nervously. "Welcome to our little public high school. How are you doing?" Stiles offered his hand to Brett, who now looked less incredulous and more confused, but still didn't move to shake his hand. "Stiles," the teenager introduced himself. "That's a firm handshake you got there. We're very excited for the scrimmage tonight, but let's keep it clean, okay? No rough stuff out there. All right, see you on the field." He turned back towards his friends. "Go."
Brett's eyes fell on Loki as she walked away with the two boys, and he frowned. Something was familiar about her.
It took all three of them to hold Liam under the shower as he roared, fangs out and eyes glowing. He wrapped a hand around Loki's and Stiles's wrist, pushing them back to relieve himself from the spray of water. He was quiet for a moment, panting.
"You calm yet?" Stiles yelled. As if in response, Liam roared again, and Loki planted her feet, shoving him back under the cold water. He shook his head wildly and suddenly relaxed, no longer fighting against the other three.
"Okay, okay!" Liam fought his way out of the cold water, and slid down the wall, his damp hair slicked across his face.
"That car you smashed? I thought you said it was your teacher's," Scott told his Beta. Liam glanced at the ground.
"He was also my Coach," he admitted. His breathing was still labored, but from exhaustion, not anger. "He benched me for entire season." Loki arched an eyebrow. Liam was an amazing player, what the hell would it take for his coach to bench him?
"I got a couple red cards," Liam muttered, and Loki realized that she'd spoken out loud.
"Just a couple?" Stiles asked sarcastically from a few feet away. Liam pressed his lips together, glared at the ground. His chemo-signals were strong, and right now they betrayed his nervousness and his unwillingness to speak. Loki sighed, and she squatted down so that she was eye-level with the younger werewolf.
"You gotta be honest with us," she told him gently. He looked up at her, eyes huge. "What else happened?"
"Nothing!" he insisted, stubbornly. His heartbeat quickened at the lie, and he shot a look at the other teenagers, quickly seeing that they didn't believe. Liam sighed. "I got kicked out of school," he acquiesced. "They sent me to a psychologist for an evaluation."
"What did they call it?" Scott asked, also bending down to get closer to Liam. He shrugged, looking uncomfortable.
"Intermittent Explosive Disorder," he muttered. Stiles's attention peaked at that.
"I.E.D?" He asked. "You're literally an I.E.D. That's great," he said, sarcastically. He turned towards Scott. "Great. You gave superpowers to a walking time bomb." He shot his best friend a sarcastic thumbs-up and a wink, and Scott shook his head, looking away.
"Did they give you anything for it?" Loki pressed. Liam shrugged again.
"Risperdol," he said. "It's an anti-psychotic."
"Oh, this just gets better," Stiles said, shaking his head in disbelief. As if to prove his point, Liam continued.
"But I don't take it."
"Obviously!"
"I can't play lacrosse on it," Liam explained. "It makes me too tired." Scott nodded. He'd been mostly silent, just listening and absorbing.
"Okay," he said, mostly to himself. He raised his voice. "I think you should bail out of the game. Tell Coach your leg is still hurting." Liam shook his head.
"No, no!" He scrambled to his feet, his wet shoes squeaking against the ground. "I can do this! Especially if you're there," Liam added, looking at Scott hopefully. Stiles shook his head, covering his face with his hands.
"But Liam, it's not just about the game," Scott explained, sounding tired. "We think whoever killed Demarco might be on our team." Liam shook his head, looking confused.
"Who'd Demarco?" he asked.
"The one who brought the beer to the party?" Stiles said. "You know, the one who got beheaded?" Stiles made a slacking motion across his throat as he spoke, and Loki shoved him.
"We think whoever ordered the keg might have killed Demarco," Scott explained. Loki looked up sharply, and an odd expression crossed Liam's face. Fear, sadness, and realization all at once.
"You never told me that," she said. Scott glanced at her.
"Does it matter?" Before Loki could open her mouth to explain, that yes, it did matter, Scott was focused on his Beta again.
"Liam? What's the matter, do you know something?" Slowly, the freshman nodded, raising his head.
"I don't know who ordered the keg, but I do know who paid for it." Liam glanced over to Loki, and she nodded grimly.
"Garret." Stiles stared at her, mouth hanging open.
"What, you knew this?" She nodded. "Why the hell didn't you say anything again?" Loki glared back.
"You guys never told me!"
"It was common sense!" Stiles protested.
"Guys!" Scott broke in, halting their scuffle like a referee's whistle. "Now is really not the time."
Loki slammed her locker shut, turning her phone on. She had three missed calls from Aiden, seven from Ethan, and more texts from both of them than she wanted to count. Rolling her eyes, Loki turned and headed out to the field. As she texted the twins, trying to placate them, she wasn't paying attention to where she was walking. One of her shoulders slammed into someone.
Loki stumbled slightly, turning her head to look at the person she'd bumped into. It was the boy from earlier - Brett.
"Sorry," he said, sounding sincere. Loki shook her head.
"No problem. I should have been watching, anyways." He was staring at her, and Loki lifted her chin defensively. "What?"
"Nothing," he said, quickly. "Just…have we met before? Besides the parking lot, I mean." Loki pressed her lips together, that one line enough to make her suspicious. Even though she agreed, something about the boy was familiar to her.
"Uh, don't think so," she said.
"You just look familiar," he pressed, and Loki shook her head. Her phone buzzed again, and she rolled her eyes, glancing down at the screen. But it wasn't from one of the twins, it was from Lydia. Loki scanned the screen, frowning. "You okay?" Brett asked. Loki looked up. She pointed down the hall.
"Fine," she said breezily. "And, you know what? I just have one of those faces," she responded casually. "I got to go. Good luck tonight."
Loki pushed through the doors to the Sherriff's department, looking around. She couldn't see Lydia, but she spotted Jordan, and rushed over to him.
"Hey," she said. He smiled when he saw her.
"Hi," he replied. He pointed to the Sherriff's office. "Lydia's in there. Come on." He led her into the office, where Loki found Malia, Lydia, and the Sherriff standing across from an mildly familiar girl sitting on the couch. Loki frowned, confused, and the girl turned to look at her.
That's when it hit her. Loki took a step back, staring at the other Banshee on the couch, memories of her time in Eichen rushing back. The girl smiled at Loki.
"Hi, Loki," Meredith said. Loki swallowed hard, ignoring the looks of everyone in the room.
"Hi, Mer," she replied, voice hoarse. Her throat felt tight and dry. She cleared it. "Um, what are you doing here?"
"What are you doing here?" Meredith corrected. The Banshee's eyes flicked to the redhead across from her. "I'm here to help Lydia. She called me." Loki swallowed again, jiggling her leg up and down. Lydia frowned, and her lips parted, but Loki held up her hand, halting the other Banshee's question before she could utter it.
"I guess I'm here to help you help Lydia," the werewolf responded, kneeling down. She thought for a minute. "When you're in trouble," she began, and then paused. She wasn't exactly sure how to continue, shaken though she was. To her relief, Jordan stepped forward.
"Meredith," he said gently. "Is there someone you reach out to when you're in trouble? Someone you call?" The girl glanced at her lap, playing with the hem of her shirt.
"It depends," she said. "Different people for different things." Loki nodded, seeing what Jordan was getting at.
"Is there someone that can help us?" she asked. "Someone we can call?" Meredith thought for a minute, and she nodded, a smile spreading across her face. "Can you tell us the number?"
"Yes," Meredith said, frowning in concentration. Loki leaned back onto her heels, shooting Jordan a grateful look. Lydia carefully pried her phone from Meredith's hands in anticipation. "It's…3…7…4…2...2." Meredith nodded, smiling in satisfaction.
"Mer?" Malia asked after the other girl was silent for a few minutes. "We need a few more numbers." Meredith shook her head.
"No," she said resolutely. "That's the number."
"Phone numbers are ten digits," the were-coyote reminded her. Meredith shook her head again, adamant.
"Meredith!" Lydia shouted, clearly losing her patience. "Phone numbers always have ten digits."
"That's the number," the curly haired girl repeated repeated.
"Meredith!" Loki grabbed Lydia's arm, trying to calm the other girl down. The Sherriff stepped forward.
"I think that's the best we're going to get," he told her. Lydia shook her head, her hands clenched into fists of rage at her side.
"No," she protested. "There has to be more." Tugging away from Stilinski, she rounded on the other Banshee again. "What's the rest of it, Meredith? Hm?" Meredith shook her head. "Just concentrate!" Lydia shouted.
Meredith's breath was staring to come very fast, and her eyes were shining with tears. She shook her head rapidly.
"But that's – that's the number…that's the number." Lydia turned away, pressing her hand to her face, and Stilinski stepped towards Meredith, placing his hand on her shoulder.
"It's okay, sweetheart," he tried to soothe the girl. She shot to her feet, shaking her head.
"That's the number!"
Jordan and Stilinski left the office with Meredith, leaving the three girls alone. Loki flopped down on the sofa that the Banshee had just vacated, sighing.
"How do you know Meredith?" Malia asked, sitting on the edge of the desk. Loki shrugged.
"I get around," she answered ambiguously.
"So you where at Eichen." Malia filled in the blanks. Loki didn't answer, just fixed Malia with a cool look. The were-coyote crumpled the piece of paper with the numbers on it, tossing it away in disgust. Then her eyes fell on the keypad of the phone. "Guys!" Malia exclaimed. Lydia looked up from where she was seated at the desk, rubbing her temples, and Loki pushed herself up from the couch to walk over. "What if it's like algebra?" Malia asked.
"What do you mean?" Lydia said. Malia flipped the phone around so that the keypad was facing the other two girls.
"What if the numbers are actually letters?" Lydia's eyes widened, and she grabbed a pen and a pad of paper, scribbling down the letters that corresponded with the numbers.
C. Lydia was quiet for a minute, and then her eyes widened.
"Oh, god," she muttered. She drew a small circle around every few letters, and then wrote the word out at the bottom. She pushed it towards the others to let them see. Loki stared down at the name, exhaling as guilt crashed down on her.
"Erica."
Loki leaned over Lydia's shoulder as they reviewed the rest of the list. Loki was focused on two names in particular: one, Brett Talbot, the lacrosse player from the other team. The reason he'd looked familiar was because she'd met him before, years ago. And the other…
The door to the Sherriff's office flew open, and Lydia snapped the screen of the computer down. Loki winced. Subtle, she thought.
"Sorry," Jordan apologized. "I was just seeing if you guys were okay. You need a ride home?" he asked, glancing at all of them, but focusing on Loki. "I didn't see your bike," he said. Loki shook her head.
"It's in the shop," she replied. It was true. She'd run to school that morning. "Lydia can drive me, though." Jordan nodded, closing the door, and Lydia opened the screen again.
The last name on the list was Jordan Parrish. And he was worth five million dollars.
Lydia didn't drive Loki home, but instead to the animal clinic. When Loki got to the treatment room, it was clear that Brett was in bad shape. He was flailing about on the table, and yellow foam spewed from his mouth. As she watched, Brett broke free of Derek and Stiles's grip, and he launched himself off the table, running right toward Loki.
Without even thinking, she was launching her fist towards his face. Her clenched hand collided with his temple, and he dropped to the ground limply. She knelt next to him.
"He's not breathing," she said, looking up at Deaton. The doctor bent down, holding the scalpel carefully. He pressed down, creating a vertical cut along the werewolf's sternum. Brett gasped, his breath coming out in panted sobs as yellow gas floated into the air and dissipated. Loki leaned away, careful not to inhale any.
"Is he okay?" Stiles asked, leaning down in concern.
"He's going to be alright," Deaton responded. "But I think he'll probably be out for a while.
"Do you guys hear that?" Stiles said suddenly, leaning down. Brett was gasping something. "I think he's saying something." Loki strained her ears, and was just able to make out his words. She repeated them.
"The sun, the moon, the truth," she said. Her eyes locked with Deaton's.
"Three things cannot long be hidden," He responded, watching as Loki dropped her eyes. "It's Buddhist," he said, looking from Loki to Derek. Loki knew the exact moment when Derek realized what Loki had assumed.
"Satomi."
Loki let herself into the penthouse, tossing the keys onto the dining room table and kicking off her shoes. Derek had taken Brett back to his loft, and Loki had made plans to meet the two of them the next day to find Satomi and her pack and warn them.
She dropped her bag on the ground and headed for her room. As usual, when she passed each empty room a pang hit her in the chest. The constant reminder that she was alone in the big apartment was still painful. Loki flopped down onto her bed, not bothering to change out of her clothes, and closed her eyes.
At around three in the morning, a sound made its way into Loki's sub-consciousness, and her eyes blinked open. She sat up quickly, looking around. Every muscle in her body was tensed as she cast her eyes around the darkened room.
As quietly as she could, Loki reached for her phone, dialing a number. The line clicked, signaling the call had gone through, and she began to speak.
Jordan Parrish was asleep in his apartment when his phone rang. He groaned, rolling over and squinting at the clock. It was almost three in the morning. Reaching out and groping blindly for his phone, he held it up to his ear.
"Hello?" he muttered groggily, swiping a hand across his face.
"Jordan," Loki whispered. Her voice was low, like she was trying to not be overheard, and there was a certain amount of fear in her tone that made him sit up straight, suddenly wide awake. "I – " before she could get another word out, she cried out in pain, and the line buzzed.
"Loki?" Jordan asked, knowing it was fruitless. Sure enough, there was no response. He swore loudly, and swung his legs out of bed.
Loki dropped the phone. Or, more accurately, tried to drop it. As it was, the arrow that her attacker had shot at her had pierced a hole in her hand and the phone, not only subsequently destroying it, but also threading her hand and phone along the shaft of the weapon. Dark liquid oozed out around the shaft embedded in her hand.
Her momentary distraction as she was blinded by pain proved to be enough for the seasoned hunter, who sprang at the young werewolf, knocking her to the ground of the hallway and placing a boot on her ribcage.
"Elizabeth…" Loki grimaced up at the woman.
"Jay," the werewolf rasped out. "As much of pleasure it is to see you again, I wish you'd called." The huntress sneered.
"Always have something smart to say, don't you?" She mused as she rummaged through her pockets. Loki snorted, trying to rear up against the booted foot to fight back, only to realize with abject shock that she was too weak. Jay laughed. "Yes, the wolfsbane on the arrow will be kicking in about now, won't it? Oh, don't worry," she continued, seeing the look on Loki's face. "It's not enough to kill you. This, however…" the woman was filling a syringe with a purple liquid. "This will do that job just fine."
Loki growled in pain as the needle pierced her skin, trying to flinch away from the sharp point. Jay laughed, driving the pump down quickly. The affect of the wolfsbane was nearly instantaneous, and Jay smirked in satisfaction as the werewolf writhed in pain beneath her.
"I didn't kill them," Loki hissed. "Their death was not my fault." It sounded like she was trying to convince herself of this.
"Wasn't it?" Jay asked. Her green eyes were hard with grief, and her mouth twisted down into an ugly sneer once again. The huntress pulled out a knife.
"Not my fault," the werewolf chanted, closing her eyes as the older woman pressed the tip of the blade to her cheek. "I didn't kill them."
"I know you did," Jay whispered back, and the cold metal of the knife kissed Loki's skin as it trailed down to her collarbones. "You can't hide the color of your eyes anymore." Jay laughed again, her eyes shining with glee. "You don't understand. My little sister suffered for hours at the hands of that monster." Jay's eyes dulled. "My little Rosie," she whispered nostalgically.
The woman shook her head, and her eyes hardened again. "Not to mention my dear brother-in-law." Jay applied more pressure point of the knife, and Loki gritted her teeth as the cold steel dug into her delicate skin, drawing blood to the surface.
"You became a monster, an Alpha werewolf just like the one before you." Loki cried out as Jay suddenly dug the knife into her chest, all the way up to the hilt. "I found you, I put you in Eichen. I thought that anything they did would be as bad, if not worse than what I would do." Jay flicked the blade up again.
"But Deucalion broke you out, didn't he?" Jay asked rhetorically. She had taken off her jacket, and was laying out a considerable number of weapons in front of Loki. A blowtorch, a crowbar, a gun, a Taser. "An Alpha Pack. And then, suddenly, you were untouchable. But now…" Jay ran her fingers over the torture devices next to her, her eyes bright with a sick excitement. "But now they're dead or gone." Loki flinched, those words hurting as much as the knife in her chest, or the poison running through her veins. "And you're alone. Weak."
"And I," Jay said primly. "Am going to avenge my sister." She tipped her head to the side, staring at Loki and smiling sadistically.
She wrapped her hand around the hilt of the dagger and began to twist it. Loki whimpered, and black blood oozed out of the wound and onto the hunter's hand. She cooed gently, and Loki glared at her.
"You should just shoot me and get it over with." Jay shook her head.
"Uh-uh." She picked a piece of cloth, and carefully bent Loki's head forward, tying it around her mouth so that no one would hear her scream.
"Hours, Loki," Jay said, watching with cheerful mirth as Loki's eyes widened with realization. "Hours."
Jordan pulled up at Loki's apartment complex, face pinched with worry. He cut the engine, and, on a whim, grabbed his gun and badge. He headed up the stairs quickly, carefully holding the two items aloft.
Jordan kicked the door to Loki's apartment open, stepping inside. He called out, quietly.
"Loki?" He crept through the apartment quietly, and froze. A figure was standing at the end of the darkened hallway, standing over something. Jordan raised his gun, groping for the light switch.
When the light flicked on, Jordan's eyes widened, and his mouth went dry. The woman at the end of the hallway was covered with blood, and the Loki was slumped over on the ground, unresponsive to the light.
"This is Deputy Parrish with the Beacon County Sherriff's Department," he recited, struggling to keep his voice steady. "Turn around with your hands in the air." The woman turned towards him, smiling in an odd manner.
"Parrish…" she purred. "Well, you don't say. My name is Jay Lewis."
"Put your hands above your head," Jordan warned again. Before he could react, the woman threw a knife. It sliced his hand holding the gun, and Jordan reflexively flinched, dropping his weapon.
Jay shoved Jordan back against the wall. She was surprisingly strong. The woman held a knife to his throat.
"You know, I just came her for a personal vengeance," she told him. "All I needed was to know where she was, but to get twenty-three million dollars for it? Well, that's just the cherry on top.
"So I was just going to kill her, collect my money, and leave," Jay continued, pressing her hand against Jordan's throat to cut of his air supply. He struggled against her. "But who's to turn down five million easy dollars right in front of them?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Jordan gasped, pushing back against her wrist.
"It's okay," she reassured him. "It will be quick for you. I'm not needlessly cruel." Jay drew back slightly, and eased her knife in between her body and Jordan's. She placed the point above his heart. Jordan closed his eyes.
A gunshot rang out, and the pressure on Jordan's throat disappeared. Coughing, the Deputy opened his eyes, expecting to see one of his colleagues. Jay was on the ground, a pool of blood spreading out from underneath her back. Her face was blank.
And, propping herself up against the wall and holding a gun, was Loki. Her hand fell limply to her side, and she looked up at him, her eyes shining bright blue.
Stiles dialed Lydia's number, pacing his room impatiently. She picked up.
"Come to the station," he said, not bothering with a greeting. "We need to tell Parrish."
"I thought we were going to let Loki tell him," she argued.
"Yeah, small problem with that. Loki's in the hospital. A hunter tried to kill her last night, and then tried to kill Parrish when he went to help her. We need to tell him, now." The other line was quiet for a minute too long. "Lydia!"
"Fine!" She snapped. "I'm on my way."
"Parrish," the Sherriff called. "One more question." He turned back towards his boss expectantly. The older man steepled his fingers together. "How did you know where to find Loki, and that she was in trouble?" Jordan blinked.
"She called me."
"Your personal?" The deputy nodded. "What did she say?" Jordan shrugged, considering.
"Not much. My name, and then she was cut off. She, uh, sounded scared, so I went to her house." Jordan winced, realizing what that sounded like. Stilinski nodded.
"But she didn't give you an address." It wasn't a question. Jordan fell silent, his face growing warm as his mind whirled with excuses. Before he could voice one, the Sherriff held up his hand. "I don't want to hear it," he told his deputy. "Just remember – Loki's still in high school. Don't do anything stupid."
Jordan led Stiles and Lydia into the station.
"Your dad should be back in about an hour," he told the younger Stilinski. "You want to wait in his office?" The two teenagers exchanged a look, and Lydia heaved a sigh.
"Actually, uh." Stiles looked around. "We wanted to talk to you."
"Privately," Lydia added cryptically, not meeting the young deputy's eye. Jordan frowned, but he led them into the office. Once the door was closed, Lydia handed him a folded sheet of paper. There were names typed up in black font, each with a number printed next to them.
"This is a hit list?" he asked.
"We call it a Dead Pool," Stiles responded. "Recognize any of the names?"
"Yeah," Jordan said. "The Sherriff had me run a bunch of these through the system last night. But we couldn't find any of them." Stiles nodded, looking at Lydia.
"Show him the other thing." Lydia hesitated, and he gave her a pointed look. She sighed, reaching out to flip the paper over. The page had been creased so that the last name was on the other side, and Jordan read it.
It was his own. He looked up, shocked.
"Okay, that's kind of terrifying." He looked at the five next to his name. "What's the number?"
"That's…how much you're worth?" Lydia offered. He spun around, staring at the two teenagers.
"I'm worth five dollars?" he asked.
"Five million," Stiles corrected. Jordan raised his eyebrows, blinking.
"I only make forty-thousand a year," he muttered, looking down at the page. "Maybe I should kill myself." Something occurred to him. "So that's what the woman was talking about last night…is Loki worth twenty-three million?" Stiles nodded, but Jordan shook his head. "I don't get it though. Why – why am I on this? Why is Loki on this?" Stiles shook his head.
"Honestly, that might be a question for another day, there's still another third of the list we're trying to crack."
"We need the third cipher key," Lydia explained. "But we need help getting it."
"From who?" Jordan asked, still struggling to comprehend the fact that he was on a hit list.
"Meredith?" Lydia said hesitantly. Jordan looked at her incredulously.
"The girl from Eichen?" He shook his head, walking over to the door and opening it. "Last time you saw her, you almost gave her a nervous breakdown."
"Almost!" Lydia protested.
Loki reached for the phone that Melissa had left her upon her (increasingly agitated) requests. She dialed a number by heart, listening as it rang.
"Hey," she said when the call connected. "It's me. I'm starting to think you were right." Loki thumbed the side of the phone nervously.
"What happened?" Ethan asked in concern. Loki closed her eyes.
"Someone caught up to me," she admitted, voice tight.
"Who?" Loki laughed humorlessly, eyes pricking with tears.
"My aunt."
ok welllllllll thanks for reading. please leave a review and tell me what you think?