I wanna see your animal side

Let it all out

Oh there you go; undress to impress

You can wear the crown but you're no princess

Death Valley – Fall Out Boy


"Juliet."

I looked up from the textbook I was doodling in, frowning as I heard someone grunt my name. I looked around; nobody in my french class was paying any attention to me.

"Juliet."

It was definitely coming from outside the classroom. It sounded kind of like...Derek.

"Juliet."

I slammed my textbook shut, slipping it into my bag and standing from my seat. "Where do you think you're going?" the teacher asked, a stern frown on her orange painted lips.

I glanced up, catching her eye and holding it. "I'm leaving," I told her flatly. She blinked a few times, shaking her head before nodding pleasantly. I didn't wait around, spinning on my heel and leaving the room. I stepped out into the hallway, glancing left and right for any sign of Derek.

"Juliet."

It was coming from a floor down. I walked to the stairs at a human pace, jumping down them as quickly as I could without looking suspicious then searching for the werewolf again. I took a breath in, my body freezing when I smelt blood. Luckily for him, it was werewolf blood; practically repulsive to my kind. I moved towards where the scent was coming from, rounding a corner and running straight into a pale, sickly looking Derek Hale.

"Well don't you look like death warmed up," I commented, raising an eyebrow as I watched him lean against the lockers for support, eyes flicking to the blood dripping down his arm onto the linoleum floor.

"Yeah?" he breathed, eyes narrowing in a glare. "Well you actually are death warmed up," he retorted snappishly, though he sounded weak.

I rolled my eyes, not bothering to comment. The bell rang, and the wolf cowered against the wall, hands pressed to his head like it was in agony. Students began to flood the hallway and despite how much it disgusted me I slid up beside him, wrapping my arm around him and heaving his weight onto me, practically carrying him down the hallway. "Let's get you out of sight before one of these kids spots your trail of blood."

I dragged him out of the school and down the steps, out onto the footpath. There was no way I was going to be able to get him to the tree line before somebody noticed us. It was then I caught sight of a familiar head in the front seat of a blue jeep.

"Come on," I mumbled to Derek, pulling him out onto the road in front of the boy's car.

He slammed the breaks on, but not fast enough and his car slammed into my side. I grunted as I felt my ribs give way, cracking at the impact. I let go of Derek, who tumbled to the ground. I hissed in pain, grasping my injured side. Stiles jumped out of his Jeep, running around to stare at us like we were crazy. "What the hell?" he asked, throwing his hands up in the air. He glanced down at his jeep, eyes widening as he noticed the dint in the front. "You dented my Jeep!"

"You broke my ribs!" I snapped back harshly, clutching my aching side. I felt a familiar heat spread across my middle that I'd come to associate with my body's healing process. I groaned as my ribs clicked back into place, then glanced down at a barely conscious Derek. People began to back up behind Stiles' car, beeping rudely at us with impatience.

"What are you doing here?" Scott asked in a hushed voice, appearing beside Derek.

"I was shot," he puffed in reply, obviously struggling to breathe.

"He's not looking so good, dude," Stiles spoke up.

"Why aren't you healing?"

"I can't," he responded. "It was-it was a different kind of bullet."

I frowned, knowing the hunters were obviously behind it. Who else had access to wolfsbane? "What? A silver bullet?"

Both Derek and I shot exasperated looks at him. "No, you idiot," he growled, glaring up at the boy from his place on the ground.

"Wait, that's what she meant when she said you had forty-eight hours."

"What?" Derek asked. "Who said forty-eight hours?"

"The one who shot you," Scott responded innocently. The older wolf's eyes began to glow their bright blue, and he glanced around, worried somebody would see. "What are you doing? Stop that."

"He can't," I hissed, crouching down beside him. This was getting serious; we were close to exposure.

"Derek, get up," he commanded as strongly as he could, which wasn't very. He huffed, jumping to his feet and moving around so he could get a better grip on the older wolf. "Help me put him in your car."

Stiles looked like he wanted to argue, but I cut him off with a glare, reaching over to pull Derek to his feet in one scoop of my arm. Scott led him around to the passenger side and secured him in the seat. The person behind Stiles blared their horn for the hundredth time and I flipped them off irritatedly, cracking open the back door and sliding in without asking permission.

"I need you to find out what kinda bullet they used," Derek mumbled to Scott while Stiles climbed in the drivers seat.

"How the hell am I supposed to do that?"

"She's an Argent. She's with them."

"Why should I help you?"

"Because you need me."

"Fine, I'll try," he replied defeatedly, running a hand over his face and glancing back at the banked up cars behind the jeep. "Get him out of here."

"I hate you for this so much," Stiles grumbled, putting the car into gear and finally moving down the road. "I can't believe this is happening," he muttered to himself, pulling out onto the main road and glancing at me in his rearview mirror. I wiggled my fingers at him, raising my eyebrows teasingly. He exhaled sharply, turning his eyes back to the road. We drove for a few minutes in silence before Stiles took one hand off the wheel to dig in his pocket, pulling out a cell phone and handing it over to me. "Can you do something useful and text Scott, see where he is with finding the bullet?"

I bit my lip, looking down at the silver contraption in my hands. I pressed the button then slid my finger across the screen, frowning at all the multicoloured boxes within the glass.

"I'm sorry, is it too hard for you?" he asked with wide, mocking eyes as he noticed me staring down at the phone silently.

"Shut up," I murmured back, finding the little button that said messages and pressing it open. I picked Scott's name and beginning to type the message. It took me a few minutes as I, ironically, wasn't exactly the fastest typer in the world. Finally I sent it and only a few moments later a text came through. "Need more time," I read out before sliding the phone back into Stiles' waiting hand.

"Hey, try not to bleed out on my seats, okay?" he spat at Derek as the wolf began to peel off his jacket, clutching his wounded arm in pain, sweat covering his face. "We're almost there."

"Almost where?"

"Your house?"

Derek spun around to look at the boy in alarm. "No, you can't take me there."

"I can't take you to your own house?" Stiles asked in disbelief.

"Not when I can't protect myself."

"Juliet can protect you."

"I'm not putting my life in her hands!"

Stiles slammed his foot to the brake, bringing the car to a stop as he veered off to the side of the road. "What happens if Scott doesn't find your little magic bullet?" he asked loudly, turning in his seat to face Derek fully. "Hm? Are you dying?"

"Not yet. I have a last resort."

"What do you mean? What last resort?!" he yelled, staring at him and waiting for an answer I was pretty confident wouldn't come. Derek lifted up the sleeve of his shirt, revealing a bullet wound on his forearm, caked in blood. "Oh my God, what is that?" Stiles gagged, obviously having a hard time stomaching the sight. "Ew, is that contagious? You know what? You should probably just get out."

"Start the car. Now."

"I don't think you should be barking orders," Stiles replied sharply, and I snorted at the thinly veiled dog pun. "What with the way you look. Okay? In fact I think if I wanted to, I could probably drag your little werewolf ass out into the middle of the road and leave you for dead."

I smiled, humoured by his little threat.

"Start the car, or I'm going to rip your throat out with my teeth." He paused glancing back at me. "Or better yet, I'll have her do it. Then you'll really be in trouble."

Stiles swallowed thickly, adams apple bobbing underneath his translucent skin. He looked over his shoulder at me and I grinned wickedly. He didn't know I'd sworn off the fresh stuff, so to him it was a possibility that I could rip into his neck. Though he didn't know what I was yet, it was still enough of a threat to make his heart pound in his chest. His eyes flickered between us nervously for a long moment before he snapped his attention back to the road and started the car.

We drove around aimlessly for a long while, a tense silence filling the cab of the jeep. Derek grunted every now and then from the pain, and I got bored pretty quickly, pulling out a book from my bag and cracking it open, beginning to read. I was distracted by Derek's laboured breathing, and eventually Stiles tossed his phone back to me. I snatched it out of the air with ease, looking down at it apprehensively. "Send another text to Scott, tell him Derek's not looking so good." He apparently also noticed Derek was getting was getting worse by the minute.

It took me a while, but I did as I was asked. "I'd give you some blood, if it wouldn't kill you," I told Derek offhandedly, tossing Stiles' phone onto the seat beside me.

"Even if it wouldn't kill me, I wouldn't accept it anyway," he retorted breathlessly, eyes clenched tight as he no doubt fought through another wave of pain.

It was quiet for a moment before Stiles spoke up, tapping his thumbs against the steering wheel idly. "So how do you two know each other, anyway?" he glanced at me in the mirror. "Are you guys cousins or something?"

I blinked in surprise at the unexpected question. "We don't know each other," I admitted honestly, shrugging my shoulders and settling further into the back seat. The cab of the jeep smelt like mint gum and curly fries, an odd but not altogether terrible combination. "We met for the first time when you guys did."

"What?" Stiles asked, sounding scandalised.

"It isn't a big deal," I said, rolling my eyes and running a hand through my raven locks.

"Yes, actually, it is," he corrected me, flicking on the indicator as he made a right into a side street. "We've been operating under the assumption that the two of you have known each other and are working together."

"Why would you talk to me then?" I couldn't help but ask, sitting up and shifting forwards, laying my arms on the seat dividing us to peer at the side of the boy's face. "If you thought I was working with him. Why would you trust me?"

He paused, frowning at the dark road in front of him like he wasn't sure how to answer. Finally, after a long deliberation that I got the feeling was out of character for him, he responded, "You know what they say; keep your friends close and your enemies closer."

I sat back abruptly, crossing my arms and turning to glare out of the window. I didn't know why his answer bothered me so much, I had no idea what I'd expected to say, and yet I couldn't help but feel somewhat disappointed. I glanced up at the rising moon then at the mansion we just passed. "This is the fifth time we've driven past that house," I told him sourly, refusing to meet his eyes in the mirror.

"Well what else am I supposed to do other than circle the block?" he asked, his voice raised slightly. I could feel him trying to catch my gaze, and couldn't help but think that if he knew what I was the last thing he'd want to do would be meet my eyes. "You know what?" he said when he got no answer other than my stony silence and a pained grunt from Derek. "I'm ringing Scott again. Hand me my phone."

I was about to snap that I didn't like being told what to do, but I knew it wouldn't help anything, so I kept my lips pressed shut as I handed him his phone back. He dialled his friend's number, holding the small cell up to his ear.

"Scott!" he shouted once he picked up.

"Stiles, listen you've gotta keep going a little longer, man," I heard the teen wolf's voice say and scowled. He sure was taking his sweet time.

"What am I supposed to do with him?"

"Take him somewhere. Anywhere."

"And by the way, he's starting to smell," Stiles commented, throwing Derek a disgusted look. I sniffed hesitantly, nearly gagging at the putrid scent that flooded my nose.

"Like what?" Scott asked curiously.

"Like death."

"Huh," Derek sniggered weakly, wincing as the movement hurt his arm but still taking the time to glance back at me. "That's ironic."

"Shut up before I rip out your tongue, you mutt," I hissed at him, angered by his jab at my scent. Stiles' keen eyes flickered between he and I, lit up like he was trying to figure something out, like we'd just given him a clue to a puzzle.

"Okay, take him to the animal clinic," Scott finally decided.

"What about your boss?" Stiles asked, attention back on the conversation at hand.

"He's gone by now. There's a spare key in the box behind the dumpster."

"You're not going to believe where he's telling me to take you," he sighed, handing the phone to Derek and pressing a hand to his head.

"Did you find it?" the werewolf asked abruptly once the phone was pressed to his ear.

I ignored the rest of the conversation, tuning out the sound of their voices. I tried not to think about how Stiles' had so quickly labelled me as an enemy. I supposed, at the root of it all, I was a vampire; I would always be their enemy.


Stiles shoved open the door to the veterinary clinic, holding it open while I dragged a sluggish Derek in after him, the wolf barely able to stand on his own two feet. He pushed away from me, shrugging off his top and casting it aside. I let my eyes roam the man's torso, a primal hunger in me that had nothing to do with his blood. I blinked as my eyes caught sight of his wound, black veins not unlike my own when my true face showed crept up his arm and around his bicep. I forced my mind off my sexual desires, reminding myself that he was a fucking werewolf and instead focusing on the task at hand.

"You know that really doesn't look like anything a good night sleep couldn't take care of," Stiles chimed unconfidently, smiling nervously and keeping his gaze away from the bloody wound.

"If the infection reaches my heart it'll kill me," Derek panted, swaying on his feet.

"Positivity just isn't in your vocabulary, is it?"

"If he doesn't get here with the bullet in time...last resort," he breathed, pulling open drawers, obviously looking for something. I knew what he was talking about, and the last thing I felt like doing was sawing his arm off. I didn't want to get blood on my hoodie.

"Which is?" Stiles asked cluelessly.

He held up a small saw, stating grimly, "You're going to cut off my arm."

The boy froze, gaze flicking between us, trying to determine if we were serious or not. "What?" he choked, blinking up at us, his face suddenly as pale as mine. "Um, no."

"Um, yes," I responded, pulling off my hoodie, leaving me in a white tank top. I threw it on a counter in the corner, where the blood splatter was least likely to ruin it. Stiles averted his eyes and I rolled mine; I wasn't showing anything tasteless. I picked up a piece of cord, moving over to wrap it around his bicep, above where the veins reached.

"Oh my God," Stiles gagged as he clicked on the saw, dropping it onto the table. "What if you bleed to death?"

"It'll heal if it works," Derek responded as I finished tying the cord.

"Look, I don't know if I can do this."

"Why not?"

"The cutting of the flesh, the sawing of the bone and especially the blood."

I let out one short laugh, pressing a hand to my mouth to cover the smile that spread across my lips. "You faint at the sight of blood?"

"No, but I might at the sight of a chopped off arm!" He glanced between us desperately. "Can't Juliet do it while I leave the room and save myself the trauma?" he asked hopefully.

I shook my head, stepping away from Derek's tempting body and crossing my arms, keeping my eyes on Stiles. "I have to hold him down."

"How about this? Either you cut off my arm, or I'm gonna cut off your head," Derek threatened weakly.

"Okay, you know what? I'm so not buying your threats anymore-" Derek reached across the table, grasping the front of Stiles's shirt and yanking him over the metal table, a glare hardening on his face. "Holy crap. Okay, alright, fine. I'll do it."

He jerked back suddenly when the wolf turned his head to the side, tipping his head over the end of the table and opening his mouth, a sticky black substance pouring from his lips and onto the ground. I jumped back, away from the mess to make sure it didn't get on my shoes.

"Holy God, what the hell is that?" Stiles whined, cringing at the inky black liquid.

"It's my body, it's trying to heal itself."

"Well, it's not doing a very good job of it."

"Now," he panted, looking up at us pleadingly. "You've gotta do it now."

"Look, honestly I don't think I can..."

"Just do it!"

I grasped hold of Derek's shoulders, pressing my weight down to keep him positioned on the table. "Okay, here I go," Stiles wheezed, picking up the saw and getting ready to hold it. "I'm gonna do it."

"Stop announcing it, and just do it," I snapped, using my supernatural strength to hold the werewolf in place.

"Stiles?"

We all paused, glancing up at the doorway. "Scott?"

The younger wolf appeared, panting, obviously having rushed here. He stopped and took in the sight of Stiles with a saw held to Derek's tied off arm and me with my hands braced to his shoulders, clearly holding him down. "What the hell are you doing?!"

"Oh, you just prevented a lifetime of nightmares," Stiles chuckled giddily, elated he wouldn't be sawing off Derek's arm.

"Did you get it?" Hale asked, forehead pressed to the cool metal of the table. Scott hurriedly dug into his pockets, fishing out a long, thin bullet and handing it over to the swaying wolf.

"What are you going to do with it?" Stiles asked hesitantly, frowning at the small object.

"I'm gonna-" he cut himself off, arms going slack as he fell to the floor. I watched him pass out, stepping back and staring down at him with a raised brow. I wasn't in the mood for burying a body tonight; it'd been a long day.

Scott scrambled after the fallen bullet while I merely leaned against the table, flicking my hair out of my eyes and watching with slight interest as it all unfolded. "Come on Derek," Stiles muttered, dropping to his knees beside the collapsed man, shaking him violently. He sucked in a breath, "Please don't kill me for this." He drew his arm back before pushing it forward, punching Hale in the face. I let out a breathy laugh and the wolf's eyes snapped open just as Scott scrambled back to him with the bullet.

"Give it here," he murmured, snatching the bullet from Scott's hand and twisting it open, tipping the dried wolfsbane out onto the table then holding out his hand expectantly. I fished my lighter out of my pocket, handing it over to him and watching as he lit the small pile on fire. It lit up in flames for a moment, before they died away. He brushed the ashes into his hand, then after taking a deep breath to steady himself he pressed them into his wound. An agonised scream left his mouth and he held the ashes to the hole in his arm, collapsing to the ground. We all watched as the ugly black veins slowly faded, the hole closing up all by itself.

"That. Was. Awesome!" Stiles gasped as I stepped forwards, picking up my lighter and slipping it into my pocket. "Yes!"

"Are you okay?" Scott asked.

"Except for the agonising pain?" he replied sarcastically, pushing himself into a sitting position.

"I'm guessing the ability to use sarcasm is a good sign of health."

"Okay, we saved your life!" Scott exclaimed tiredly. "Which means you're going to leave us along, you got that? And if you don't, I'm going to go back to Allison's dad and I'm going to tell him everything-"

Both Derek and I froze, glares hardening on our faces. "You're gonna trust them?" Derek asked quietly, controlled fury clear in his expression. "You think they can help you?"

"Why not?! They're a lot freaking nicer than either of you are!"

Derek's lips twitched downwards into a frown, and he looked back at Scott, his eyes flat. "I can show you exactly how nice they are."

"What do you mean?" Scott asked cautiously.

"You have to come with me," the older wolf said tensely, gesturing to the door.

"Don't do it Scott," Stiles muttered worriedly, shooting a glare at Derek. Scott looked between the beta wolf and his best friend, having a difficult time making a decision.

Finally he turned to face Stiles fully. "I have to find out what he knows, Stiles." He tried to smile, but the expression fell flat. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Derek led the way out, Scott trailing behind him, casting one last weary glance over his shoulder. Stiles and I were silent, staring through the doorway after them long after the bell above the front door had chimed as they left. After a long moment Stiles turned to me, shoving his hands in his pockets awkwardly. "Do you-do you want a ride home?"

"I can walk," I replied coldly, brushing my hair off my face, turning on my heel and heading for the door.

"What I mean," he began loudly, catching my attention and making me pause. "Is you don't have to. Walk, that is."

I spun around, crossing my arms and fixing him with a suspicious look. "What do you want?" I asked angrily. "Is it information you're after? Names? Dates?"

"No," he shot back defensively. "All I'm doing is offering you a ride. Geez."

I narrowed my eyes at him, evaluating the look of innocence in his eyes and the steady beat of his heart. I didn't want to walk home, not with hunters roaming the town, so I begrudgingly took him up on his offer. I turned around, heading for the door and pausing when he didn't follow me. "Well?" I asked impatiently over my shoulder. "Are you coming or what?"

He blinked in surprise, nodding sloppily and rushing to my side. We filed out of the clinic, Stiles having the sense to lock the door and hide the key as we left. I climbed into his jeep, not bothering with the pretence of a seatbelt. The car rumbled to life beneath us and he edged it out of the parking lot and onto the main road. "So," Stiles began after a while, wisely keeping his eyes on the road. "If you didn't know Derek before you got to town, why did you come here? Were you looking for the alpha too?"

I pursed my lips, considering lying and saying yes. But I decided the truth was easier; the more you told the truth, the less you had to remember. "No," I admitted, turning in the passenger seat to stare at the side of his face. His heart picked up under my intense green stare, but he otherwise made no acknowledgement of my gaze. "I didn't come here for any specific reason. I just closed my eyes and pointed to a spot on a map."

"Huh," he responded, and I realised he must have been cold as he moved his hand to the controls in the centre, turning on the heat. "Your parents just let you pick where to move to like that?"

I didn't tense up, I'd stopped doing that after about a century. It didn't hurt as much anymore, though if I concentrated I could still feel the sting in my chest when I thought about them. "My parents are...long gone," I told him, peering out the window at the trees flying past.

"So, you live with like an aunt or something?" he assumed, taking a left into the industrial district to cut through the town, a shortcut to the part of town my suburb, and probably his, was in.

"It's just me now," I said dully, leaning forwards to press my forehead against the glass. I avoided taking a breath in, the boy's irresistible scent overwhelming me.

"What, so you're like emancipated?" he asked, finally glancing over at me for a brief moment before returning his eyes to the road.

"Something like that," I mumbled, my eyes flickering up to where the moon hung in the sky, glowing enchantingly.

I could practically hear the cogs turning in his brain, so I kept quiet and let him think. "How old are you?" he asked carefully after a long moment as he pulled into my street.

I was technically 203, physically 18 and legally 16. I had to give him the most believable, and most untrue answer for the sake of my secret. "I'm 16," I lied like it was second nature, and after all this time, it was.

"I don't-" he began, but I cut him off as he rolled to a stop in front of my house, cracking open my door and jumping to the ground. I slipped a cigarette from my pocket, moving my little blue lighter up to light it. I took a drag, closing my eyes and letting the taste of smoke in my mouth distract me as I turned around, picking up my bag from the floor of his jeep. "See you at school," Stiles said quietly.

"Yeah, whatever," I responded, letting the door swing shut before making my way up my path to my porch steps. As I cracked open my unlocked door, I glanced over my shoulder at the boy in the car that still sat idle in front of my house. I frowned, in another life I might have thought it was sweet that he was waiting for me to get inside safely before leaving. In another life.