They won't catch us
In the dark
Roll like thunder
Burn like stars
Runaways – All Time Low
Stiles' dad was hit by a car.
I knew this because the day after it happened he cornered me at school and proceeded to rant about it and tell me all about how it was all Scott's fault. I hadn't really listened, I'd been sketching on my favourite notepad at the time, however I knew that he wasn't too badly hurt but that Stiles still held it against Scott.
The few days after that were taxing as hell. Stiles wouldn't leave me alone. He stuck to me like a mosquito, constantly buzzing in my ear and using me as a way to avoid his best friend. No matter what rude names I called him, or how snappy and cruel I was, he wouldn't go away. Everything I said just seemed to roll off his back, like nothing affected him. It was annoying, but over the course of those few days I realised it was kind of nice to have company. People usually gave me a wide berth, because I was mean and intimidating and, let's face it, scary. So it was definitely a change to have somebody willingly sit with me at lunch.
It wasn't only Stiles that had taken a weird shining to me. Allison was also strangely kind, smiling at me in the halls and striking up conversations with me in the classes we shared together. She even approached Stiles and I at lunch one day, sitting down to chat with me for a moment. I didn't give her much to work with, keeping my answers short and clipped, hoping she'd take the hint and go away.
"I've been researching my family history recently. Did you know I have an ancestor named Juliet?" she'd said with a kind smile.
"Fascinating," I'd drawled in response, continuing to sketch the mountain range I was attempting to recreate from memory.
I was brought back to the present when Stiles found me outside, leaning against the side of the building, smoking a cigarette. "Hey," he said, and I rolled my eyes, not bothering to respond as I blew smoke rings from my mouth idly. "So, listen...I need a favour."
"No," I dead-panned, glancing up at the sun beating down on me, instinctively glancing to my daylight ring, the only thing between me and incineration.
"You don't even know what it is," he complained, gesturing wildly with his arms like he so often did.
"And yet, my answer's still no."
"Look," he began, moving to stand in front of me. Before he could continue I blew a mouthful of smoke directly in his face. He coughed and waved his hand in the air in front of him, cringing at the smell and the burning in his eyes. "Hey! Secondhand smoke kills, you know."
My lips twitched up into a wicked smirk. "I'm counting on it."
He glared as darkly as he could, which honestly wasn't very, and crossed his arms, beginning his pitch again. "Listen, all I need is for you to go do that hypnosis thing on coach and get his phone off of him."
"Why?" I questioned suspiciously. He hesitated like he was reluctant to tell me. "Aw, come on," I prodded him playfully. "We just spent the last four days bonding and now you're not gonna tell me why you wanna borrow my compulsive powers?"
"I'm teaching Scott how to control the shift," he admitted, rubbing the spot on his chest I'd poked.
I paused, raising an eyebrow at him. "What the hell makes you think you're qualified to do that?" I asked carefully, taking a long drag of smoke.
"Better me do it than Derek," he snorted.
"So what is this brilliant plan and why does it involve coach's phone?" I asked, dropping the end of the cigarette on the ground and stamping on it with my converse.
"I'm going to take one of the heart monitors the track team uses to monitor Scott's heart rate while I throw lacrosse balls at him, but the monitors are linked to coach's phone."
I appraised him quietly for a moment, secretly impressed by the plan. He took what resources he had and came up with a slightly brilliant plan. Finally I nodded, pleased by the way his face lit up with glee. "I'll do it if," I said, and he paused, raising an eyebrow, no doubt worried I was going to make him do something terrible. "If I get to throw lacrosse balls at Scott too."
"Deal!" he agreed immediately, reaching out a hand for me to shake. I looked down at it like it was going to bite me, but he didn't back down, holding it out with a dopey grin. I sighed and slapped my hand into his, clenching lightly so I wouldn't crush his bones and shaking for a moment before pulling away, trying not to think about how I could feel his blood pulsing under his skin.
He led me through the school towards coach's office, pushing me into the room while he scurried off to look for the heart monitors. "Can I help you?" the older man with a receding hairline asked me sassily.
I wasn't in the mood for games, so I simply stalked towards him, locking eyes and drawing him into my hold. "You're going to give me your phone without asking questions, then forget I was ever here. And you're not going to look for it," I compelled him. He repeated my instructions back to me, and I blinked when I was satisfied it had worked. He wordlessly handed over his sleek black phone and I gave him a mock salute, spinning around and meeting Stiles at the locker room door.
We held up what we'd retrieved, smirking at each other gladly. We made our way towards the lacrosse field where Stiles said he was meeting Scott. "So you've forgiven him then?" I asked, shoving the phone in my back pocket and sliding my hands into the large pocket on the front of my Harvard hoodie.
"No," he answered immediately, scowling at the mere thought. "It's going to take a lot more than a simple apology to get him back in my good graces."
I nodded, "Make him work for it."
"Exactly," he grinned toothily. My lips twitched, something in me wanting to return the gesture. But I smothered it, fixing a cool stare on my features.
"Juliet," Scott greeted, standing from the bench he was parked on and looking down at me in surprise. "I didn't know you were coming too."
"She's part of the plan," Stiles told him without hesitation, leading the boy past the bleachers towards the field. "Now...put this on," he instructed as he took a seat on one of the benches, holding up the monitor.
"Isn't this one of the heart rate monitors for the track team?" Scott asked dubiously.
"Yeah, I borrowed it," Stiles replied with a shrug.
"Stole it?"
I threw one leg over the bench so that I was straddling it facing Stiles as I listened to their conversation. "Temporarily misappropriated," he corrected irritably. "Coach uses it to monitor his heart rate with his phone while he jogs. And you're gonna wear it for the rest of the day."
I slipped the phone from my pocket, holding it up in the light for him to see. "Isn't that coaches phone?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at us.
Stiles paused for a brief moment before pasting a proud grin on his face and saying, "That, I stole."
I frowned confusedly at the boy. I was expecting him to tell his friend that I'd compelled it off coach, and I opened my mouth to tell him so when a look from Stiles stopped me. I suddenly understood, Stiles hadn't told Scott he knew I could compel people. My brows furrowed in bewilderment as I tried to make sense of it all in my head. What did that mean? Why hadn't he told Scott?
"Why?" Scott asked, none the wiser.
"Well your heart rate goes up when you go wolf, right?" he began steadily. "When you're playing lacrosse, when you're with Allison, whenever you get angry. Maybe learning to control it is tied to learning to control your heart rate."
"Like the Incredible Hulk," Scott said, a smile playing on his lips.
"Kinda like the Incredible Hulk," Stiles allowed with a shrug.
"Nah, I'm like the Incredible Hulk," Scott repeated, a full blown grin on his face.
"Just shut up and put the strap on."
While he was attaching it to his body, the teen wolf looked down at me where I sat quietly straddling the bench. "Is he right? About the heart rate thing?"
I pursed my lips. "Well I'm no expert, but it certainly makes sense," I shrugged, wincing as the sun broke the clouds and hit me directly in the face, sending pain searing through my skull. I blinked, pressing my fingers to my temple as I winced. After a moment the sun disappeared behind clouds again and the pain faded. I felt eyes on me and turned my gaze to Stiles who was staring at me like I was a puzzle he was trying to figure out.
"How could you not be an expert?" Scott asked with a confused frown.
I snapped my eyes up to meet his with was I hoped was an irritated looking glare. "It's not an exact science, Scott."
"Okay," he said in an effort to keep the peace. He tilted his head to the side and his eyes suddenly widened in alarm. He stared at me with something like terror in his gaze. I looked down at myself confusedly, wondering if I'd maybe spilt blood on me during breakfast that morning.
"What?" I asked self-consciously, blinking at the clean grey sweater with a frown.
"I-I left my drink bottle over by the bench, can you p-please go get it?" he stumbled over his words, staring at me like I was a freaking ghost or something.
"Why can't Stiles go get it?"
The boy in question seemed to see something I didn't, because he nodded hastily, "No, I've gotta duck-tape his arms. Just do it." He paused, noticed my dangerous glare. "Please?"
I huffed but did as they asked, pushing myself to my feet and moving passed the bleachers towards the bench Scott had been sitting on only minutes ago. I walked steadily away from them, but continued to listen to them talk as easily as if I were standing right there. They whispered between themselves, obviously assuming I wasn't listening. "Dude," Scott hissed in a panic. "Stiles, she has no heartbeat."
The was a pause, then Stiles said without a hint of surprise, "I have a theory, but I have to research it more before I present it. Give me a few more days, then I'll talk to you and we can confront her."
I picked up the small water bottle resting on the leg of the bench. It was just a cheap little thing, and it irritated me that they sent me to get it so they could whisper behind my back. As I walked back towards them I couldn't help but wonder what Stiles' theory was. Did he know what I was? I thought back to all the secret little looks he gave me, like he was slowly figuring me out. He didn't know for certain, so I clung to that hope that he wouldn't ever have it confirmed as I met them back on the field, setting down the bottle as I watched Stiles tape Scott's arms together behind his back, both acting like nothing happened.
"This isn't exactly how I wanted to spend my free period," he said pointedly, glancing over his shoulder at his friend.
"Alright, ready?"
"No."
"Remember: don't get angry," Stile warned, leaning down to tap away at coach's phone, activating the monitor.
"I'm starting to think this is a really bad idea."
Stiles tipped out the little white balls onto the field, picking up his crosse and scooping one into it's little net. He tossed it unceremoniously at Scott, and it hit the boy in the leg. He cried out in pain, snatching up another one, this time hitting his face. "My turn," I grinned wickedly, and he smirked, holding out the stick for me to take. "So, uh," I began awkwardly, biting my lip and looking down at the crosse in my hands. "How exactly do I...you know...do this?"
He laughed lightly, but not in a mocking way, so luckily for him he got to keep his voice box. He pressed his hand over my right one that was clenched around the stick, using it to guide me as he scooped up another one of the balls. He gave me a quick and simple run through of how to aim and shoot. I nodded and did as he instructed, frowning when the ball flew out of the net about ten feet away from Scott. I tried again, this time getting a little closer but still not landing a hit.
With a frustrated groan I dropped the stick, bending down to pick up one of the balls. I tossed it up and down for a moment, getting used to the weight. Scott's humoured expression fell from his face as he saw me tense, preparing to let it fly. "Not too hard!" he begged, but I didn't listen. I wasn't going to waste such a golden opportunity. I let it fly with some of my extra vampire strength, the ball practically disappearing it moved so fast. A split second later it connected with his chest and the boy fell back, yelping in pain. I smirked proudly, stepping aside and letting Stiles have another few throws.
We alternated between throws, chuckling at Scott's pain – Stiles, because he was angry at his friend for what happened to his father; me, because as sick as it was, I enjoyed inflicting pain on others – and after a long while Stiles turned to me, a mischievous grin on his face as he scooped up a ball, plucking it from the net and handing it to me. "As hard as you can."
"As hard as I can?" I asked doubtfully, squeezing the ball in my grasp. "I'll break something."
He shrugged, "He'll heal."
I smirked, who knew that Stiles could be so fun? I turned to face Scott, who was wincing already, tensing in preparation of my throw. I tossed it in the air, caught it then hurled it at Scott with all my strength. The ball disappeared, reappearing a split second later as it crashed into his chest. I heard the distinct cracking of bones and grinned, the expression melting into a frown when the wolf collapsed, groaning in pain, breathing heavily.
We watched as he ripped open his bindings, and Stiles ducked down to pick up the beeping phone. "Scott?" he asked tentatively as the boy's back bent at what looked like a painful angle. I tensed, preparing for a fight. Then something miraculous happened, he slowly but surely began to calm down. "Scott? You started to change," Stiles said worriedly, moving closer to his friend, who was panting on the ground.
"Anger...it was more than that," he breathed, wincing as he pressed a hand to his ribs. "The angrier I got, the stronger I felt."
"So it is anger then. Derek's right."
"I can't be around Allison," he said with a pained frown. I rolled my eyes, this kid needed to sort out his priorities.
"Just because she makes you happy?" Stiles asked doubtfully.
"No, because she makes me weak."
I strolled down the hall during my free period, on my way outside so I could have a cigarette without anyone telling me off. As I turned down a hallway, I picked up on the sound of a heartbeat racing in someone's chest. I looked down the hall, narrowing my eyes as I saw that Jackson kid leaning over Allison. "So," he began, voice slow and deliberate and kind of of creepy as Allison leaned away from him uncomfortably. "What are you reading?"
I was by their side in the blink of an eye, grasping the collar of Jackson's shirt and yanking him to his feet. "Hey," I barked, slamming him against the lockers before letting him go, wiping the his sweat off on my jeans. "Back off, creep," I hissed, glancing down at a wide-eyed Allison.
"We were just talking," he defended as Allison scrambled to her feet.
"Really Juliet, it's fine."
Her heartbeat said otherwise, but I let it go, stepping back and frowning to myself. Why did I care again? I took a deep breath, allowing a casual smirk to spread on my lips. I had a thing about dickhead boys leering over innocent girls. "Watch yourself," I warned him with an evil grin. His heart stuttered at the dangerous gleam in my eyes, but he otherwise kept composed, showing no outward signs of fear. I let him go with a flick, glaring at him with smug distaste. I nodded respectfully at Allison, trying not to think about how scared she looked. I hadn't wanted to frighten her, I'd simply wanted to threaten Jackson and be on my way.
I pushed my way out into the sun, sliding down the wall around the corner from the door and pulling out a book and a cigarette, lighting the latter and cracking open the former.
It was peaceful for a long time as I just read, not interested in being in class. There was a group of boys to my left standing around, making jokes and playfully shoving each other but I ignored them easily enough. It wasn't until I detected the familiar aroma of mint and chocolate that I snapped my head up, watching Stiles and Scott walk past without noticing me. "What are we doing?" Scott asked cautiously.
"You'll see, hold on," Stiles told him quietly as I watched on with interest. "Okay, stand right there. Do you have your keys? Perfect, hold them up...like...so..." The boy left his friend standing there, glancing over his shoulder. "Now, whatever happens just think about Allison. Try to find her voice like you did at the game. Got it?"
I closed my book, gently sliding it into my bag before pushing myself to my feet. My eyebrows shot up with amusement as the boy wandered over to a parked car casually, tugging out his own keys and pressing them to the paint, creating a long scratch on the metal. I chuckled, crossing my arms and watching the events unfold.
"Hey, hey, hey! Dude, what do you think you're doing to that truck, bro?!" he yelled loudly and obviously. I pressed my hand over my lips to keep my laughs from getting too loud.
"What the hell?" one of the members of the group to my left asked, outraged as he spied Scott standing with his keys in his hand. I watched as he landed a punch on the shocked wolf's face, sending his falling back into the dirt.
I wandered over to Stiles with a grin, the boy wincing in sympathy for his friend as he watched the group of guys beat him up. "Stay calm, stay calm," he breathed as he looked on, and I noticed he held the heart monitor in his hand, keeping an eye on Scott's pulse.
"Your ideas just keep getting better and better," I said, my voice coloured with humour. Stiles jumped violently, not having seen me approach. He rolled his eyes at me, both of us turning our attention to the boy being savagely beaten before us. It took awhile, but eventually the beeping of the monitor decreased along with Scott's heartbeat. Mr Harris came speed walking out of the doors, making a beeline for the boy lay bleeding on the concrete.
Stiles fist-pumped the air in victory and I rolled my eyes, secretly kind of impressed. "What the hell do you idiots think you're doing?!" he exclaimed, wheeling around to glare at Stiles and I accusingly. "With me, for detention. Now." I rolled my eyes, nodding my head at Stiles and strolling passed the teacher, towards the boundary of the school. "Where do you think you're going?" he asked sharply.
I sighed, turning around and locking eyes with the rude man. "I'm going home, and you're not going to stop me."
"I'm not going to stop you," he repeated robotically, pupils dilating behind those pathetic glasses of his.
"Hey!" Stiles called out to me. "What about us?"
"Not my problem!" I replied over my shoulder. I ignored the boy's irritated grunt, shifting the weight of my bag on my shoulder and turning to corner. I hadn't gotten far when I got a phone call. "Hello?" I answered dully.
"I need you to meet me at the animal clinic," Derek's voice dead-panned.
I paused, frowning at my shoes in annoyance. "How the hell did you get this number?" I questioned icily.
"I think I know who the alpha is."
I didn't respond immediately, weighing my choices. I could go to the clinic and do my part, or I could go home and curl up in front of my old TV. I knew which one I wanted to do, and I knew which one I knew I should do. So with a heavy sigh, I mumbled into the phone, "I'll be there in ten minutes."
I went home first, dropping off my bag and pulling on a looser pair of jeans, ones I would be able to fight in, as well as an old white T-shirt. I pulled my best set of daggers out from the box under my sink, strapping one to each ankle then shoving two into my belt. I shrugged on an old leather jacket I'd gotten off one of my victims in the 70's, one that covered my knives and after making sure my hair was down for camouflage reasons, I left my house. I took the route through the forest, knowing I'd be more free to go faster there.
I got to the clinic a little earlier than I anticipated, pushing open the door just as the sun was sinking below the horizon. "Derek?" I asked loudly, frowning at the noise the little bell above the door made.
"In here," his voice rumbled from the back room. I weaved past the front desk, stepping into the back room I'd been in once before; when Derek got hit by that bullet only a week or so ago. I blinked in surprise as I caught sight of who I could only assume was the veterinarian, tied to a chair, bound and beaten. I raised my eyebrows, but ultimately just went with it. He obviously had good reason to believe he was the alpha. I cracked my knuckles, grinning in anticipation for a fight.
"Well what do we have here?" I asked with a predatory grin as I stared down at the unconscious man.
"It's him," Derek told me, arms crossed and he leant against the far wall, watching the dark skinned man for any signs of awareness. "I'm sure of it."
"What's the plan?" I inquired, mirroring his stance. "I won't kill him without irrefutable proof."
He snorted, lips quirking up like what I said was in any way funny. "That's not something you hear every day," he mumbled, light eyes focused on the man in the chair. "A vampire not eager to kill."
"Hey," I snapped with a frown. "I'm totally eager to kill. I just don't want to kill an innocent."
"Every vampire I've met before hasn't had a problem with it."
"Well I do," I responded darkly. I sniffed the air, the monster deep within me rearing it's ugly head at the scent of human blood. My eyes shot to the deep gash on the vet's face and hunger surged through me. "I don't think he's the guy."
"Why not?" he asked defensively, brows pulling together in a frown.
"Because he smells appetising, and I've never met a single wolf whose scent hasn't made me want to vomit," I told him with a shrug.
He held up his hands, silently telling me to drop it as the man before us groaned, slowly coming to.
"Oh God."
"Are you protecting someone?"
"Alright, the key to the drug locker is in my pocket," he told us desperately.
"I don't want drugs, I wanna know why you're lying."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Derek spun the man around, lifting him in the air with ease.
"What do you want?"
"I want to know who you are. Or who you're protecting."
"What are you doing?" Scott asked loudly, appearing in the doorway. I'd been so focused on the interrogation at hand I hadn't noticed him approach.
"Scott, get outta here!" he yelled back to the teen wolf as Derek dropped him, striking him across the face unforgivingly.
"Stop!" Scott begged, stepping in between them.
"When he's conscious he can keep himself from healing, but unconscious he can't."
"Are you out of your mind?! What are you talking about?!"
"You wanna know what the spiral means, Scott?" Derek growled. "It's our sign for a vendetta. For revenge. It means he won't stop killing until he's satisfied!"
"You think he's the alpha?" Scott asked incredulously.
"We're about to find out."
Scott caught his hand before he could inflict any damage. We both stared in shock as he changed from boy to wolf so smoothly that I almost missed it. Derek took a step back and watched closely as he looked down at his claws. They slowly but surely melted back into his regular fingernails, and the hair along his jaw vanished, his eyes glowing a brilliant amber.
"Hit him again, then you'll see me get angry."
"No," Derek dead-panned as I moved to put my feet up on his dash, I mock-pouted but he just ignored me, steering his sleek black car into school parking lot, empty except for Stiles' jeep. The vet tied up on the backseat mumbled into his bindings but I paid him no mind, eyes flickering through the darkness to meet Stiles' impatient stare as he toyed with the pair of bolt cutters in his hands. The car rolled to a stop and I slid out, quickly checking my daggers were still in place before I crossed my arms, trying to conjure an air of indifference.
"Where's my boss?" Scott asked testily as Derek slid out after me.
"He's in the back."
The two young boys peeked their heads through the open back window, peering down at the unconscious veterinarian. "Aw, he looks comfortable," Stiles said sarcastically, shooting me a pointed look. I ignored it, letting my eyes scan the area naturally, keeping an eye out for any threats.
Scott nudged his friend, gesturing to the school as they both turned towards the looming building. "Hey, what are you doing?" Derek asked in annoyance.
"You said I was linked with the alpha," Scott said like it was obvious. "I'm gonna see if you're right."
They headed confidently into the school while Derek and I watched with raised eyebrows. "Why don't they trust me?" Derek asked unexpectedly, peering after them through the shadows.
"Uh, maybe because you're creepy as fuck?" I asked rhetorically, leaning my weight against his car and staring up at the moon.
He grunted, irritated by my response. "You're a vampire. You're the definition of creepy," he retorted sassily, narrowing his light eyes at me. I pursed my lips but decided not to comment. He had a point. People were naturally repelled by me. In basic terms? I gave them the hebe-jeebies.
We were quiet, not sure what we were waiting for until it happened. A loud, squeaking screech sounded through the school. I winced, it sounded like a dying cat. "You've gotta be kidding me," Derek muttered tiredly, dropping his head.
"That literally could not have been any worse," I muttered, looking down at the pavement and kicking at a loose pebble. There was another pause and I assumed the boys were making their way back. Then something crazy happened. A low growl, kind of a howl that vibrated through my very soul sounded through the school's speaker. We both shot up. Derek looking around worriedly for the alpha, me because when a vampire heard that noise our instinct was to run in the opposite direction. I shoved it down, focusing on what was happening in front of me.
"I'm gonna kill both of you," Derek snarled as they strolled down the stairs, looking mighty pleased with themselves. "What the hell was that? What are you trying to do? Attract the entire state to the school?"
"Sorry, I didn't know it'd be that loud," Scott muttered, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.
"Heh, it was loud," Stiles chuckled. "And it was awesome," he sang, a large dopey grin on his innocent face. Something in me warmed, but I clenched my teeth together and ignored it. Now wasn't the time for sentimentality.
"Shut up," Derek snapped, and I stood up properly. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and reached around my back, sliding one of the two daggers I'd hidden there from it's sheath.
"Don't be such a sour wolf-why the hell do you have a knife?!" he shouted, jerking back as the silver blade glinted in the moonlight.
"It's a dagger," I corrected sharply.
"It's a hazard," he retorted.
"What'd you do with him?" Scott asked suddenly, breaking Stiles and I from our mini-standoff.
"What?" Derek and I asked at the same time, glancing behind us in disbelief as we realised the vet was gone. We blinked at the empty seat. When had that happened? "We didn't do anything."
I heard the sound of paws on the ground and dove out of the way just as the alpha attacked, shoving his claws brutally through the wolf's chest. Blood spurted from his mouth, the scent surrounding me. I had to get away from the alpha, but just as I turned to run I realised the boys were still standing there. Part of me screamed to leave them to die, but I knew in my cold, dead, un-beating heart that I couldn't do that. "Inside," I yelled at them, disappearing from their sight and reappearing near the doors to the school. They scrambled towards the entrance, falling over themselves in an attempt to get there. They sprinted inside and I slammed the doors shut after them, dread filling my stomach as I realised I had nothing to lock it with.
