HOLY COW!
38 Followers, 26 Favorites, and 9 Reviews on the very first chapter?! Wow, wow, wow!
Speechless, as always, by the lovely reception you guys have given the first installation of Blood Moon and the continuation of Charlie's story!
Special thanks to: cococrazy4109, "Guest", Heather, "Guest 2", klandgraf2007, Lauren, zikashigaku, GalaxyMidnight, and "Guest 3"
I'm beyond thrilled to hear how much you liked the first chapter of this story. Some of you have followed from the very beginning, and others just caught up to the fun! The kind words and support are much appreciated.
To all of the new followers and favorites: THANK YOU! And don't be shy to share thoughts or pointer via review or PM :)
I wanted to note that I do not own anything other than Charlie and some Delta lore. The wonderful world of Teen Wolf belongs to Jeff Davis.
A couple of things about this and the upcoming update: I merged the first two episodes and am flipping some of the timing around, so if it seems out of order from the actual show, that was my doing.
Also, any block Italix represent flashbacks. We'll be getting a lot of them so we can see what Charlie's been up to over the past four months/get to know Ava.
This installation was inspired by Zack Hemsey's amazing score "Mind Heist." The title not only fits the content of this chapter, but I felt that the music helped amplify the atmosphere I was hoping to create.
As usual, I will be uploading a new 8tracks to go along with this story. I'll most likely publish it somewhere around chapter 6.
Okay, done rambling. Take a gander and let me know what you think of this tension-filled update!
xoxo marahh
CHAPTER TWO: MIND HEIST
"So wolfsbane really has no effect on you," Ava called down to me with an air of sadistic amusement. "Go figure."
Her already slight frame was even more miniscule from where I stood a good hundred feet below, waist-deep in water that was filled with an assortment of those beautiful purple florets.
"I wouldn't say that," I hissed, clenching my fangs as I watched more of my sizzling skin bubble off.
"You should've died from exposure an hour ago," she simply continued, resigned to my plight as she tossed more petals into the claustrophobic well I had been trapped in for five long hours.
"Like I said, Gerard killing me must've made me immune."
"NO," she spat, voice dripping with the usual amount of venom I had grown used to during my first week here. "Being a Delta gave you that ability. Dying simply made you…"
"Evolve faster," I cut her off with an equal amount of impatience. "Yeah, yeah. I get it. Lesson learned. Now can you let me out?"
Evidently, my words were deemed humorous by the crazy bitch, for a shrill laugh erupted from her raspy throat, making me wince even more.
"Let you out?" she took a drag from her pipe, those ghostly orbs piercing straight through the thick veil of smoke directly into my half-shifted face. "You're an abomination against nature and have sullied the great Lorccán Tribe with your… your lycanthrope blood. I should have ended your life the second you set foot onto this land."
All semblance of self-control was slipping away as a murderous growl rose from deep within my belly.
"Well sorry to disappoint Auntie Ava," I snarled, "but you're gonna have to be a bit more creative, cause this isn't going to kill me."
"Stupid half-breed. We do not kill our own," she shook her head in bitter disappointment, only to lean further in as she shot back, "Though I know that concept is foreign to something like you."
Before I could stop it, my vision flashed to black and white.
Beyond the wolfsbane scorching my body and the upcoming full moon, Ava's incessant insults were enough to make me snap.
All I could focus on was the sound of blood pumping through her withered arteries and imagine slashing into that concaved chest. I wanted to rip her apart, relish in the taste of her insides as she begged for her pathetic little life, and it took everything I had to keep from giving in and attacking the old hag right then and there.
But she was my only hope in saving my humanity, and I needed to keep it together, even if it was against my baser instincts.
"Then what's the point of all this?" my animalistic voice quaked so violently that pieces of the crumbling stone wall fell in, splashing the cool, acidic water against my face and stinging my cheeks.
"The point is to push you to your limit. To see how far you'll bend before you break."
I closed my eyes, attempting to center myself and block out the pain.
Focus, Charlie.
Breathe.
Don't give in.
Don't give her the satisfaction.
"Yeah well, shove it," I felt my fangs and claws recede, only to defiantly look back up at her with my, once again, human eyes. "Cause I'm not going to."
"And that's precisely the problem," her tone was flat.
Confused, I didn't quite know what to say, so I merely stared up at her as she rummaged through her animal-skin satchel and pulled out a handful of delicate white flowers: African Dream Root.
"You're holding back," Ava began plucking the white petals from their bright green stems.
Wrinkled hand extending over the opening, she slowly began dropping the plants in, piece by piece.
Pulse escalating, I knew whatever was going to happen, it wasn't going to be enjoyable.
Instinctively looking for an escape, I watched the ivory petals flutter closer and closer to me, memories of that snowy dream I had whilst on my deathbed flashing across my anxious mind.
"You're still fighting her," she explained further, sprinkling more of those mysterious blossoms into the well.
"Of course I am!" I thrashed about wildly. "You haven't taught me how to control it yet!"
"It's not about control," her patience was apparently wearing thin, as was my own.
I let out an acerbic snort: "You tell me that when she's tearing you limb from limb."
"I said you needed to face her."
Wide, frantic eyes shooting about as the white buds began to mask the wolfsbane churning throughout the chilly water, I suddenly felt a sense of calm wash over me.
I could no longer feel my prickling skin peeling off, or the agonizing tremors shooting throughout my body. I could barely even think anymore, my mind growing blank and vision hazy.
What was happening?
"Yeah, but not now," I managed to blurt out, voice faint and almost pitiful. "I-I'm not strong enough. She'll take over."
"Let her."
"No!" I shouted desperately, as the circular walls began to spin at a dizzying rate. "You don't understand."
I swayed, grasping at the slick, mossy walls for support as my eyes began to roll back into my head.
"And neither do you."
I heard my bones involuntarily snapping, my gray eyes beginning to glow that eerie shade of lilac: "Stop it!"
"Let me see what you're so afraid," her hoarse voice sounded distant to my ringing ears.
"Please, stop!" my spine cracked, claws tearing through my bleeding nail beds.
"Let me see the darkness you keep buried inside!"
I could no longer resist.
My whimpers of feeble protest slowly morphed into primal rumbles, as I felt myself slipping away and that demon taking over.
"Let me see la louve fantôme!"
And in that split second, everything I had been suppressing rushed to the surface, with nothing but a resounding howl escaping my wolf form and silencing Charlie Hale.
The memory of those blood-chilling calls bounced about my brain as I stood outside the animal clinic, a deep frown etched upon my face as I gazed up at the nearly full moon, idly twirling a tin compact between my fingers.
We had rushed to Dr. Alan Deaton's place of work as soon as Isaac recovered from Peter's invasive little stunt; and although I pointed out that an extra helping hand would've made setting things up go a lot faster, Derek was adamant that I wait outside for Scott and Stiles.
But I wasn't dumb.
There was no real reason for me to be out here, waiting for two silly teenagers to come back from some random birthday party.
My cousin simply wanted some alone time with vet, and although I couldn't hear through the mountain ash barrier, I could only assume their private little chitchat was about me.
Sure, my sudden arrival must've taken them all by surprise, and my newfound strength could've been interpreted as somewhat unnerving, but to be honest, I couldn't quite grasp why everyone seemed so on edge around me.
It's not like I was acting hostile or erratic.
I was in complete control, and my attitude was beyond genial, if I did say so myself…
Maybe they just didn't know how to process that I was actually at peace with myself for once.
A heavy sigh escaped my exasperated lips, but before I could give the matter further thought, a pair of blinding headlights came into view.
I perked up, pocketing the thin, metal container.
"What took you guys so long?" I asked, not really interested in their response.
"Heather's party was a couple towns over," Stiles explained to the back of my head, for I had already turned and stalked off towards the shadowy building. "Which you obviously don't care about…"
I chose to ignore his sarcastic retort as I opened the door and entered the clinic's dark lobby, stifling the urge to gag as a rancid odor assaulted my heightened senses.
"God," Scott choked from just behind me. "What's that smell?"
"The mutilated corpses of about a dozen or so furry patients," I explained impassively, hopping over the receptionist's desk and unlocking the door for both extremely disturbed teenagers.
"Apparently they offed themselves," I looked between both of their gaping faces, tone rather bored as I added. "Guess deer and crows aren't the only animals in town going suicidal."
Mouth agape, Stilinski only managed a loud gulp as Scott's saddened brown eyes looked directly into my cold ones: "Does Deaton have any idea why?"
"Fear," I gave my simple, albeit disconcerting response.
The boys exchanged nervous looks, only to make their way past me and head down to the first examination room, and as we opened the door, we were met with a surprising sight, indeed.
The entire place was cleared out, save for an enormous tub that was positioned in the center of the room. Already over-flowing, Derek, Isaac, and Dr. Deaton were busy pouring mounds of ice into the stainless steel container.
"Ah, just in time," the veterinarian barely glanced over his shoulder at us, his keen eyes lingering over mine for the briefest of moments.
"Just in time for what?" Scott asked his boss, as the Alpha tossed the empty bags into the garbage.
"To help Isaac remember," my cousin rolled up his sleeves, emerald eyes as unreadable as ever.
"I'm afraid it's not going to be particularly comfortable," Deaton stated the obvious, turning to Lahey's uncertain face. "But if we can slow your heart rate down enough, you'll slip into a trance-like state."
"Like being hypnotized," the Beta mused aloud.
"Exactly," the bald man nodded. "You'll be half transformed. It'll let us access you subconscious mind."
Fingers dipping into the icy water, Scott immediately withdrew his hand and asked with raised brows: "How slow does his heart rate need to be?"
"Very slow."
"Okay, well how slow is very slow?" Derek pressed.
"Nearly dead," he clarified gravely.
Compared to my wide-eyed and dismayed peers, I, myself, was unphased by the news and couldn't help but casually blurt out: "Seems like decent enough odds."
I immediately regretted opening my mouth.
"What?" I shifted underneath everyone's scrutinizing stares, innocently regarding the lot of them. "Nearly dead's way better than actually dead. Trust me."
I watched as thoughtful expressions replaced many of their judgmental ones, only to catch Stiles staring at me, guilt written across his face.
"I-it's safe, though, right?" Isaac inquired nervously.
"Do you want me to answer honestly?" Deaton raised his brows.
Hopefulness floundering, the Beta shook his head stiffly: "No. Not really."
Then the room fell quiet, the tension so thick one could cut through it with a knife, and as we all stood there, somberly staring into that massive tub of freezing cold water, a loud latex snap broke the silence.
Whirling around, we all saw Stilinski playing with some surgical gloves, the nerd's soft chortles dying away the instant Derek shot him a dangerous look.
"W-what?" he stammered.
Derek simply glowered at the human, holding out his hand until Stiles begrudgingly yanked off the glove and passed it over.
"Look," the Alpha then sighed, tossing the thing away, "if it feels too risky, you don't have to do this."
The thought process behind Lahey's sapphire eyes was apparent.
Apprehension. Obligation. Fear. Loyalty. All of those conflicting emotions were wrestling within his mind, and rightfully so.
Sure, I suppose I could imagine he wanted to save his friends… even if they were pretty much doomed to begin with… and maybe the idea of risking his life held a certain amount of grandeur to it. But if anyone understood the innate power self-preservation and how it could sneak up and sabotage even the noblest of causes, it was me.
Face contorted, the boy weighed his options, yet once his burdened gaze landed on his patiently awaiting audience, he exhaled, pulled off his shirt, and headed towards the overflowing bathtub.
Pleasantly surprised by the sudden change of scenery, I cocked a brow, unable to do much else besides admire Isaac's half-naked form.
I mean, I always knew he was handsome, but damn!
Lahey must have felt my intent stare, for the timid teen's dimpled cheeks reddened, but when a strange, prickling heat started to spread across the side of my face, forcing me to turn, I caught Stiles watching me with the oddest of expressions.
Lips taught and nose crinkled, his caramel eyes were scrunched up as he quickly looked away, only making my crooked grin widen that much more, but then Lahey let out a sharp breath and my smirk faltered.
Already chattering from where he sat, the icy pool had paralyzed the baby wolf, his breathing much more pronounced as he puffed through the physical shock and painful cold.
Scott followed Derek's lead, rolling up his own sleeves as they took their positions on either side of the shivering Beta, and after all three of them exchanged quick looks and Isaac offered a stiff nod, they guided him backwards, dunking him into the frozen depths.
I absentmindedly stepped closer, tucking a loose curl behind my ear as I watched on, almost entranced by the chunks of ice slowly drifting over Lahey's closed eyes and the bubbles that slowly escaped his parted lips.
"When will we know he's been under long enough?" McCall asked, eyes flitting up from his friend's submerged body to his silently observing boss.
"You'll know."
Stiles was gnawing on his fingers behind me, the subtle pops of nail between teeth adding to the mounting anxiety within the clinic, and after what felt like an eternity, Isaac began to stir.
Jerking side-to-side, both wolves had to use their entire body weight to keep Lahey from wriggling free, but as his movements became more violent, water and ice sloshing over the edges of the bathtub and soaking everyone present, Derek and Scott couldn't hold on any longer.
Human face replaced with his wolf one, Isaac broke free, shooting upwards as his eerie, ochre eyes flew open and an animalistic roar escaped his heaving lungs.
"Get him back under!" Deaton commanded as Stiles rushed forward and grabbed Isaac's flailing legs. "Hold him!"
"We're trying!" my cousin barked, all three boys using all of their strength in an attempt to restrain the violently thrashing boy.
I shook my head.
Didn't they realize how strong instinct to live was? That Isaac's reflex to fight tooth and nail for just one more breath wasn't something they could quell so easily?
"You need to hold him!" Alan's shouts echoed about my brain as I reflected upon my own, lifelong struggle to survive. "Get him back under!"
SPLASH!
A wave of ice-cold water hit me square in the face, snapping me out of personal ruminations.
Wiping my sour face dry, I grumpily walked around the three grunting boys, ignoring them as they all gave me an inquisitive look.
Seriously, it was like I had to do everything around here…
I inhaled deeply, blocking out the sound of everyone's erratic pulses, and as I exhaled, my vision faded to black and white and I thrust a single hand into chilly tub, easily detaining the wolf by his chest.
But when I looked to Deaton for our next round of instructions, I was met with three gawking young men.
The lavender hue of my wolf eyes was evidently still shocking to both McCall and Stilinski, and my newfound strength definitely seemed to take my cousin aback, but not the veterinarian.
No, the good doctor remained unphased by everything, his light brown gaze holding the slightest hint of satisfaction.
Unnerved as ever by his sheer lack of surprise, I reminded myself that he was no longer the only one who knew more than he let on.
"Now remember," Alan spoke, bringing my attention to the fact that Isaac had stopped moving. "Only I can talk to him. Too many voices will confuse him and draw him out."
Nodding in unison, all four of us released the motionless teenager and stepped back, watching as his corpse-like form floated to the surface of the bathtub and took a shallow breath.
"Isaac?" Deaton called softly, tone soothing as he stepped closer to the almost serene werewolf. "Isaac, can you hear me?"
Eyes still closed, the Beta replied in a faraway voice: "Yes. I can hear you."
"This is Dr. Deaton. I'd like to ask you a few questions. Is that all right?"
"Yes."
All eyes were on the two conversing people, however, I could still feel Stilinski's gaze darting over to my impassive face every one in a while.
What the Hell was he staring at?
I crossed my arms, making a point to meet his uncomfortable gaze the next time he looked my way, promptly forcing those caramel orbs down to his damp sneakers.
"I want to ask you about the night you found Erica and Boyd. I want you to remember it for me in as vivid detail as possible, like you're actually there again," the vet's words caused an immediate shift in Lahey's once restful disposition.
"I… I don't want to do that," he muttered, shaking his head fretfully as he repeated himself with a bit more fervor. "I don't… I don't want to do that."
The lights within the animal clinic flickered as the distant rumbles of an impending thunderstorm sounded about the dead-silent room.
"I don't want to. I don't want to do that," Isaac had grown frantic enough for both Derek and Scott to place firm hands on his muscular shoulders.
"Isaac, it's all right. Relax. They're just memories. You can't be hurt by a memory," Alan reassured the entranced teen as a bolt of lightening lit the blackened sky outside.
"I don't wanna to that."
"It's all right."
Heavy rain began pelting against the windows, which rattled as another deafening crash rang out.
"I don't wanna do that," the lights flickered some more as my hair began to stand on end.
Maybe it was the storm, or perhaps it was Lahey's performance, but to be completely honest, I was getting spooked, and I could tell I wasn't the only one.
"Relax. Relax," Deaton's melodic tones seemed to have done the trick, for soon, Isaac was back to his original, restful state. "Good. Now let's go back to that night. To the place where you found Erica and Boyd. Can you tell me what you see? Is there a kind of building? A house?"
"It's not… it's not a house. It's stone. I think its marble," the boy's blue lips barely moved as he mused aloud.
"That's perfect, Isaac," the doctor encouraged his subject. "Can you give me any other descriptors?"
Expression one of deep thought, Lahey breathed: "It's dusty. And empty. Like an abandoned building?"
Another crack of lightning shook the building, sending a shiver up my spine as the Beta fell silent, save for his sudden, uneven breaths.
"Isaac?" Deaton called, unable to hear just how much the baby wolf's pulse had suddenly spiked. "Isaac?"
Pale face turning sheet white, Lahey gasped, eyes dancing behind his eyelids at a dizzying rate: "Someone's here. Someone's here."
And then, as the lights dimmed again, the Beta's pruned hand shot up out of the water, tightly latching onto my wrist.
A sharp and startled hiss escaped my throat as I tried to yank myself free, but Lahey's grip was too strong, his nails digging deeply into my flesh as his voice quaked: "Someone's here!"
"Dr. Deaton?" Scott's words were barely above a whisper, his chocolate eyes darting from my pain-filled face to Isaac's petrified form.
"Isaac, relax," the veterinarian tried to ease the boy's mind again, but he was clearly spiraling.
Heart beating dangerously fast, I sensed how close he was to shifting again as his alarmed voice grew husky: "No, no, no."
My wide eyes met Derek's equally unnerved ones.
Deaton tried and failed to to call out to the boy once again: "Isaac."
"They see me…"
He was drawing blood now, the warm, crimson liquid trickling from my broken skin in sharp contrast to his colorless fist.
"They're just memories, Isaac," Deaton's composure was faltering as we all watched the Beta involuntarily bear his claws.
"They see me!" he suddenly tugged me closer, tearing even deeper into my flesh as I let out a low yelp of pain.
"Isaac, relax. You won't be hurt by your memories."
No, but I certainly might!
Not that anyone cared…
Without debate, I shoved my free hand into my pocket and pulled out the tin, and before Beacon County's most enigmatic resident could tell me to stop, I dumped all of the crushed white powder into the water.
The second those flakes dissipated within the lapping pool, the boy's grip loosened, and as he released my bleeding hand and slipped back into his coma-like slumber, I looked up.
"What was that?" Derek demanded, green eyes glued to Isaac's virtually lifeless form. "What did you do to him?"
"African Dream Root," I noted the smallest of smirks tugging on Deaton's lips before condescendingly adding, "and I'm helping to expedite this entire process while simultaneously making sure no more blood gets spilt. You're welcome."
"African Dream Root?" McCall asked, genuine curiosity curbing the friction between Derek and I.
"Pretty much let's you poke around someone's head and see whatever's floating around in their subconscious. You know, phobias, dreams, repressed memories," I explained, expression darkening as I thought back to my time in the well. "Even the crap you'd be better off forgetting."
Everyone's gazes grew rather sullen over my words, which led me to believe they understood I was talking from experience.
"So, yeah," I shook off their pitiful gazes and shrugged nonchalantly: "He's all yours, doc."
Deaton wasted no time: "Now, Isaac, you need to tell us what you see."
There was no reaction from the Beta, and while the vet attempted to coax out a response, I heard Stiles mutter: "Here."
It took me a second to realize whom he was speaking to, but when a soft cloth was thrust into my sticky, bloodstained hand, my gaze met the same pair of eyes that used to make my heart flutter.
He seemed apprehensive, timid even, but I simply felt numb, with a dull sense of irritability as I snatched the towel and slapped it on my smarting wound.
"Isaac," Alan pressed, Lahey's soft grunt inviting him to continue. "I need you to tell us everything."
The boy's eyes obediently fluttered open, however his baby blues seemed darker, as if a dense fog had rolled in behind them, preventing all light from getting through.
His breathing was slow, his chest rhythmically rising and falling as the low rumbles of thunder and pitter-patter of rain filled the room. And as another bolt of lightning flashed across his frigid form, illuminating his purple lips and anemic skin, I couldn't help but cringe.
God, did I look this creepy when Ava forced me to take this stuff?
"I hear him," his eyes stared blankly at the ceiling. "Boyd. He's talking about the full moon, about being out of control when it rises."
"Is he talking to Erica?"
"I think so. I can't… I can't see her. I ca-can't… I can't see either of them."
Derek shifted, and although his pulse was steady and expression stoic, I could see the worry behind those brooding, emerald orbs.
"Can you hear anything else?"
"They're worried. They're worried what they'll do during the full moon. They're worried they're going to hurt each other."
The lights flickered some more as a disturbing thought crossed my mind.
"Derek," I looked to my cousin's equally grim face, voicing what we knew to be the harsh truth: "If they're locked in together on the full moon…"
"They're gonna tear each other apart," the Alpha finished, gazing past both Scott and Stiles' horrified faces to the doctor.
"Isaac," Alan's words, though low in volume, were much more urgent. "We need to find them right now. Can you see them?"
"No."
"Do you know what kind of room it is? Is there any kind of marker? A number on a door? A sign?" he fired off question after question, whilst everyone's pounding hearts grew louder with each passing moment.
But then, without warning, Isaac sat up, a distressed gasp escaping his shivering mouth.
"T-they're here," he whispered, the sight of him so thoroughly alarming that we all took an involuntary step backwards. "They… they…"
"Shhh. It's all right," Deaton hushed, trying to ease the boy back into the water, but Isaac wouldn't budge.
"N-no," Lahey's petrified voice was barely audible, and I could only imagine what nightmarish memory he was being forced to relive right now.
I felt a tiny lump form in my throat, but I merely swallowed it.
"T-they s-see me," Isaac's hysterical utterances were almost drowned out by the howling wind. "Oh God… oh God! They found me!"
"This isn't working!" my hotheaded cousin rashly pushed past the animal doctor. "Isaac, where are you?"
"I can't see them. I-it's too dark."
"Just tell me where you are!"
"You're confusing him," Deaton scolded the Alpha, as Lahey's glassy eyes momentarily rolled into the back of his head.
"I can't see!" the poor Beta screamed, the lights beginning to flicker at a dizzying pace.
"Isaac!" Derek ignored Alan's warning, lunging forward and firmly gripping the boy by his quaking shoulders.
"Derek, don't!" it was my turn to step forward, trying to pull him back before the teenager's racing heart gave out. "He's too far under!"
"He could go into shock, Derek" Dr. Deaton added before Scott chimed in just as loudly: "Let him go!"
But the big oaf was as bull-headed as ever, brusquely knocking me off as he shook Isaac some more: "Where are you? What did you see?"
"Derek!" I angrily shouted as another violent crack of thunder sounded.
But then Isaac murmured something that made all of us stop in our tracks…
POP!
POP!
POP!
All of the light bulbs within the room started exploding left and right as a massive power surge swept through the rattling clinic, showering us with fragments of shattered glass.
"A vault! It's a bank vault!"
Having been shielding our faces and heads during the hail of glass shards, we peeked out from underneath our scraped arms to see that a completely coherent Isaac Lahey was now standing outside the tub.
Scott hurried forward and quickly wrapped a heavy woolen blanket around his friend's frozen body, allowing him to continue through chattering teeth: "It's an… an ab-abandoned bank. Uh, B-Beacon Hills F-first National B-bank, and… and they're k-keeping them l-locked inside. Inside the vault."
We stood in stunned silence, barely able to look the handsome boy with wavy brown hair in the eye, and it didn't take him long to figure out that something was very wrong.
"What?" his once triumphant expression twisted into one of confusion and worry.
"You don't remember what you said right before you came out of it, do you?" Stiles asked, words filled with the same heaviness we were all feeling.
Wide navy eyes scanning all of our despondent faces, Isaac shook his head: "No?"
Stilinski swallowed hard before delivering the bad news: "You, um, you said that when they captured you, they dragged you into a room and… and there was a body in it."
No longer shivering, Lahey's meager voice still shook as he asked: "W-what body?"
"Erica. You said it was Erica."
"She's not dead," Derek had been pacing about in utter denial for over fifteen minutes. "She's not."
"Derek, he literally said 'there's a dead body. It's Erica.' Doesn't exactly leave us much room for interpretation," Stiles snarkily stated as he helped Scott put the oversized tub back into the supply closet.
"But then who was in the vault with Boyd?" the Alpha countered through his teeth, stubbled jaw clenched.
"Someone else," I paused from mopping the floor, rolling my wounded wrist as I irascibly grunted. "Obviously."
Evidently, Derek didn't appreciate the callousness of my remark, for he was shooting daggers my way as Isaac nodded at my injury: "Sorry about that."
"It's fine," I ignored my cousin's glowers as I shrugged. "I think it's almost healed."
"Really?" Lahey seemed surprised, but when I removed the towel and revealed the faint marks scarcely marring my skin, the boy raised his brows: "Wow, that was fast."
All eyes in the room were now focused on my arm, and I immediately got a hot flash.
"Yeah," I muttered, handing the Beta the mop. "Guess so."
Quickly retreating to the corner, I threw my leather jacket back on to hide the evidence, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up under everyone's intense scrutiny.
I already felt out of place to begin with, but the way they kept acting around me, the shifty looks, awkward conversations, and even more uncomfortable silences, it was enough to make me scream.
But I couldn't, for I knew that if I blew up, it would just affirm their thoughts about my 'lack of humanity'.
Face burning, I refused to turn around.
Fine!
Let them stare at the volatile Delta that came back from the dead.
Let them stare at the freak.
I didn't care… but I also wasn't gonna subject myself to their silent judgments either…
"Maybe it was the girl on the motorcycle," Scott thankfully spoke up as they all returned to their respective tasks. "You know, the one that saved you?"
Motorcycle?
Pulling some hair from underneath my jacket collar, my thoughts drifted back to the warehouse I scouted out upon my arrival back in Beacon County.
The scent of burned rubber and adrenaline.
The vision of two figures riding a motorbike, whilst two creatures with glowing red eyes followed in close pursuit.
The two assailants merging into one.
The blood.
The fear.
The electrical pulse.
"No," Lahey replied thoughtfully as I faced the group once again. "She wasn't like us, and whoever was in the vault with Boyd was," he finished cleaning up the floor.
"What if that's how Erica died? Like what if they pit them against each other during the full moons and see which one survives?" Stiles asked. "Like a werewolf thunder dome."
The human instantly shrank within himself when the Alpha gave him a pointed look: "Then we get them out. Now."
"Be smart about this, Derek," Alan put the mop away and pushed the metal gurney back into the center of the room. "You can't just go storming in."
"If Isaac got in, then so can we," my cousin stubbornly argued.
"But I didn't get through a vault door," Lahey raised a valid point, to which my companions nodded in agreement.
"We need a plan," McCall looked around the examination table, at which we had gathered, his words more of a command than a suggestion.
"How are we gonna come up with a plan to break into a bank vault?" Derek barked. "In less than 24 hours?"
"Um, I think someone already did," Stiles spoke up, only to read off his phone: "'Beacon Hills First National Bank closes its doors three months after vault robbery'. Doesn't say how it was robbed on the site, but it probably won't take long to find out."
And although Stilinski's words seemed to lift most spirits, Derek's cynicism remained.
"How long?" he demanded, his eyes piercing.
"It's the Internet, Derek," the dork scoffed loudly, already beginning to type away on his iPhone. "Okay? Minutes…"
My lip quirked as I examined the Alpha's peeved face, but when Stiles glanced up at my slightly amused expression, I reverted back to my usual aloofness.
The kid's proud grin fell as he watched me stroll towards the door.
"Uh, Charlie?"
I glanced over my shoulder at Scott, his body tense, as if he were walking on eggshells.
"You're leaving?"
"Well, yeah. Looks like you two got the research part under control, and there's no way in Hell I'm staying up until tomorrow night with Grumpy over there," I nodded irrelevantly to Derek, who's permanent scowl merely deepened. "So I'm going to bed."
The lightness of my tone, given the circumstances, rendered the room speechless, which prompted me to add even more gaily: " See you all at school."
And as I exited the room and made my way down the dark corridor, I heard Stiles stammer to the other restless bystanders: "A-at school?"
That's right, Stilinski, I smirked to myself.
Beacon Hills High School better batten down the hatches, cause Charlie Hale's coming back.