Chapter VII: The Elimination

"How the hell am I supposed to fight you," Emory stuck out her hands. "Reminder: no claws."

"That's the part that we need your body to remember."

"I don't think it's a matter of remembering. If I never used them, there's nothing for my body to remember."

"What, you just want sit around and sing camp fires song about werewolves? You want to have a daily reminder saying 'wow, you look great today, Emory. But you know what would look better? Teeth and Claws.'

"That's not what I am suggesting."

"Trust me," Derek said forcefully. "I know what I am doing."

"Fine, but what am I doing?"

"You," Derek pointed to Emory. "Are going to punch me in the face?"

"Why would that make me turn?"

"Anger often causes werewolves inner wolf to show," Derek explained.

"But why do I have to punch you?"

"So I don't feel bad for hitting a girl," Derek smirked before it was whipped off by Emory slapping him across his face. "You feminists. Always getting angry at men for being gentlemen."

"Shut up," Emory easily countered.

"Pain also ignites a wolf," Derek explained further. "So when I punch you, hopefully your

wolf self will heal it."

"Hopefully?" Emory question.

"Yeah, unless I break your arm."

"If you break my arm, I'll snap your neck, chop you up into little pieces and feed you to

Casper."

"There we go," Derek celebrated. "Now turn those vicious words into action."

Emory paused, formed her hand into a fist and took a swing.

Derek closed his eyes, bracing himself for the punch."Emory stopped her fist half way before it reached Derek's cheek.

"I can't do this," Emory shook her head. "I can't hurt you."

"What if I started insulting you?"

"Derek," Emory rolled her eyes. "I have had 17 years of insults from my parents. I think I can take everything you throw at me."

"Well, there is another way."

"Another way that won't give me bruises? Or where I don't have to hurt other people?

Why didn't we start with that?"

"How determined are you on figuring this out tonight?" Derek cocked an eyebrow.

"I am not leaving until I do. Now, what is this way?"

"It's the way Scott triggered his inner wolf." Derek paused.

"Spit it out, Derek." Emory said. "What is it?"

"Sexual interaction."

Emory almost choked on the spit resting in her throat. "Like kissing?"

Derek nodded and got pale all the sudden."Wait, it wont be your first kiss will it."

Emory had to laugh at his reaction. "No," Emory laughed. "I know I may not seem like it now but I was a very different girl in New York. The naive girl I seem like I am now was not who I was a couple of months ago."

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"If it truly will help me figure out what the hell is going on with me." Emory shrugged.

"And it is just a kiss,"

Derek raised his eyebrows.

"Well, are going to kiss me, Derek?" Emory laughed. "Or are you going to leave me h-"

Derek cut Emory off as he grabbed her waist, yanking her towards him.

He needed to make her feel some sort of sexual arousal. He held her in his arms before starting to kiss her slowly.

Emory broke away laughing.

"You are not really getting the point of this," Derek frowned.

"Sorry," Emory laughed. "I'll try not to laugh."

They met in the middle this time. Emory placed her hands on either side of his face as his hands rested on her hips.

The kissing deepened as the speed rapidly increased. Emory ran her fingers through his hair. He wrapped his hands up into the small of her back, pressing her closer to him.

She then reached down his back sliding her hand under his shirt.

The shirt still smelled of blood. But it also smelled of him and in that moment, he was

more powerful than anything else.

He lifted her up as she straddled her legs on either side of his hips. He carried her upstairs as they continued to kiss. He set her on the bed as he removed his shirt.

He slid over Emory's body pinning her to the surprisingly comfortable mattress beneath

her back. She was expecting a piece of wood.

"His hands glided under her shirt. She removed her hands fro his back to help him take it

off.

She returned her hands to the back of his neck pulling him closer.

Derek moved to her neck while she slid her hands through his hair again. His hands

started to grip the belt around her jeans.

She focused on the kissing as she moved her hands to his back.

Derek's head shot away from her neck. "Stop."

Emory brought her hands in front of her vision. She had claws.

"Let it take over." Derek said forcefully. "Lose control."

A million memories flashed through Emory's head. She needed to stay in control.

She involuntarily caused her head to regain control over her body. Just as her parents had

taught her.

"I can't," as Emory winced she let out a tear. She felt her body relax.

"Let it take over," Derek commanded. She felt her teeth shift slightly back into normal

position.

"I can't," Emory sobbed. She reached for Derek who held her in return.

"Don't be afraid." He let go after she had wiped her face.

"I can't not be afraid. It's fear," Emory sat crossed legged on the bed with her forehead

resting in her palms.

"Everyone experiences fear. Don't let yourself be overcome by it."

"Easier said then done," she looked up at Derek who was sitting across from her in the

same position staring at her with a solemn appearance.

"So is having control and you forcing yourself from not becoming a werewolf." Derek

laughed lightly. "Usually it's the opposite. You have too much control."

Derek meant it as a compliment, but from what Emory had learned in the past few hours

made it seem like criticism.

Emory had nothing to say. She had begun to think again. What was she? Why

was she what she is? How was she the way she is

"Do you know what the different colored eyes mean?" Derek said slowly after the pause.

"No," she said while looking deeper into Derek's blue eyes. "I figured all werewolves had

the same blue that we have."

"No actually." Derek sighed.

"Are you going to tell me?" Emory laughed after Derek just sat there staring at her.

"Do you know who killed your parents?"

"No," Emory huffed. "Although I wouldn't mind killing the person who did."

Derek flinched. "Blue eyes mean that a person has taken the life of an innocent," he said

after a pause, waiting for Emory to take in what he had just said.

"An innocent what?" Emory asked, her brow deepening. "An innocent person? Are you

calling me a murderer?" Emory's confusion grew. She wan't angry, just more confused than anything?"

"An innocent is usually not an enemy. You could have lost control and killed your parents."

Emory stood in front of Derek with her mouth slightly parted. "You know the story of how my parents died. I told you. I opened up to you. Do you know how many people I tell that story to? Nobody."

"Emory, you have to think of it as an option. It is a possibility."

"Fuck you." Emory turned against Derek and started for the door.

"Emory, wait!" called Derek reaching for her. Emory pulled her arm away and sprinted

out the front door.

"You better stand back, Derek," Emory slowly backed away from the house. "Because I'm a killer. And not because I killed my parents. Maybe I did kill my parents. But that wouldn't have made my eyes blue. Do you know why?"

Derek shook his head, pity in his eyes.

"My parents' weren't innocent." And with that, she turned around and ran into the forest. As she went deeper and deeper into the wood she felt tears falling down her face as 'you're a killer' replayed in her head over and over again.

"You forget." Derek whispered through the forest. "I'm one too."

After running for a while she became careless and tripped over the root of a large oak

tree. She stumbled across the forest floor. Instead of continuing, she did what any

confused and alone teenager does, cried.