A/N: Hey guys, I know you haven't heard much from me during this story so I thought I'd pop in to say hi. I'm glad people are liking this story, and there is only more and more to come. I will be doing every season, and I have all of it planned. I think you're going to love it. Big chapter, I think it may even be the longest. Packed full of plot, and something I know some of you have been waiting for. Enjoy :)
PS. In coming chapters, there will be a bit of a crossover with the show my character's mythology comes from, The Vampire Diaries. If you don't watch the show, don't fear, you don't have to see it to understand.
Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf, nothing is my own except Juliet.
What big eyes you have
The kind of eyes that drive wolves mad
Just to see that you don't get chased
I think I oughta walk with you for a ways
Amanda Seyfried – L'il Red Riding Hood
"Lock it!" Scott yelled frantically, scrambling to hold the doors shut. "Lock it!"
"Do I look like I have a key?" Stiles snapped back as I held the door shut, peering out into the darkness for any hint of glowing red eyes.
"Grab something!"
"What?"
"Anything!"
The short-haired boy paused, standing from his crouched position to stare out onto the pavement.
"No," Scott said immediately, and I leaned forward to catch a glimpse at what they were bickering over.
"Yes."
"Stiles, no. Don't!"
Stiles pried open the door, moving to step outside. I suppressed an eye roll, reaching out and grabbing the back of his shirt, tugging him back inside in one sweep. "Hey-what the hell?" he asked loudly, stumbling backwards as Scott slammed the door shut to be safe.
"You're crazy if you think you're going out there," I hissed, tightening my hold on his clothes as I kept an eye out for the alpha.
"Do you have a better idea?"
I paused, weighing up my options. I knew, logically, that the smartest thing was for me to go and get it. But the again, I had the most to lose. One bite and I was history. Still, I didn't want to condemn Stiles to a life of the supernatural if I could help it, no one deserved this life. "Close the door after me," I grunted, shifting my weight from foot to foot.
"What-no," Stiles objected, but I paid him no mind, ripping open the door before I could change my mind and slipping out into the cool night air. I didn't wait around to see where the alpha was, sprinting at full speed towards the bolt-cutters.
I scooped them off the ground just as the great beast crawled out from behind Stiles' jeep, drool leaking from its bared teeth. I sucked in a sharp breath as it roared, beginning to gallop towards me. I was at the doors not a moment later, banging on them frantically. The boys tugged them open, and I slipped through the gap, shoving the tool between the handles the second they were closed. Stiles and Scott stared out the little windows, searching for the alpha who had disappeared during all the commotion.
"That won't hold, will it?" Scott asked after a moment, backing away from the doors.
"Probably not," Stiles replied shakily.
They turned around, facing the dark and looming school hallway, no doubt wondering what to do next. A howl pierced the silent night, and the boys jumped, scrambling to take cover somewhere safe. I followed them, body tensed, preparing for an attack at any moment. They darted into a classroom, rushing over to the teacher's desk and beginning to push it against the door, only to be stopped by Stiles.
"Stop," he whispered, glancing over his shoulder at the empty doorway. "The doors not gonna keep it out."
"I know."
"It's your boss. Deaton? The alpha? Your boss."
"No."
"Yes. Murdering, psycho werewolf."
"That can't be."
"Oh, come on. He disappears and then that thing shows up ten seconds later to toss Derek twenty feet through the air?" Stiles argued and he had a point, though I wasn't sure I agreed with him. "That's not convenient timing?"
"It's not him."
"He killed Derek."
"Well Derek's not dead. He can't be dead."
"Blood spurted out of his mouth, okay? That doesn't exactly qualify as a minor injury." My lips twitched despite the situation, but I focused my concentration on keeping my senses on looking out for the alpha. "He's dead, and we're next."
"Okay just...just, what do we do?" he asked distraughtly as I leaned out of the doorway, gaze flickering down each end of the hallway, checking for any hint of glowing red eyes.
"Get to my jeep," Stiles decided after a long moment. "We get outta here. You seriously think about quitting your job." He picked up the torch, both boys marching over to the windows, Scott beginning to pull at the latches desperately. "They don't open, the school's climate controlled."
"Then we break it," he tried, not sounding very confident in his own suggestion.
"It'll attract too much noise," I told him from my spot at the door, glancing back out into the hall again cautiously. "The only way we're getting out of this is through stealth. Its our best chance at getting out of this hellhole alive."
They both paused, considering my words, though I knew they could only agree. "Stiles, what's wrong with the hood of your jeep?" Scott asked suddenly, his voice panicked as he stared at the car in question.
"What do you mean? Nothing's wrong."
"It's bent."
"Like dented?" Stiles asked frantically, leaping forward to get a better look at the jeep.
"No, no I mean bent."
"...what the hell?"
Before anyone could say anything else the window to their left smashed. Thinking it was the alpha I shot to the boys side, a threatening snarl bubbling up from my chest as the two of them dropped to the floor, covering their heads as glass flew all around them. We all relaxed a moment later as we discovered it wasn't in fact a murderous alpha, it was just a hunk of old metal that was obviously from the hood of Stiles' car. I realised I was in a defensive crouch and immediately straightened, brushing the little shards of glass off my top nonchalantly.
"That's my battery," Stiles said after a beat, torch light shining on the hunk of metal and wires.
"We're going," I said, reaching down and yanking Stiles to his feet.
"No!" Scott argued, tugging his friend back down to his level, his heart beating so fast it was lucky he didn't turn.
Thankfully Stiles seemed to get that I was their best bet at getting out of this alive. "We have to move," he told him as calmly as he could, pushing himself back up to his feet.
"He could be right outside."
"He is right outside."
"We're wasting time," I hissed at them, my eyes scanning the shadows outside for any hint of a wolf.
"Just let me take a look," Scott said, not waiting for a reply before getting to his knees so he could peer over the wall below the windows, staring through the glass wearily.
"Nothing?" Stiles asked worriedly, eyes scanning the horizon too. "Can we go now?"
"We're too out in the open right here," I whispered, shifting my weight from foot to foot, eager to get the hell out of there. "We're leaving," I said again when neither of them moved. I grasped them both by the front of their shirts and yanking them forwards. They tumbled out into the hall after me and I let them go, peering down the hall as my catlike eyesight adjusted, allowing me to see through the shadows as clearly as if it were day.
"This way," Scott said, taking off down the hall in the opposite direction.
"No, no, no. Somewhere without windows," Stiles replied softly, looking around as he considered where to head to. My eyebrows raised, so he wasn't a total idiot. Somewhere without windows was exactly the right kind of place to be.
"Every single room in this building has windows."
"Somewhere with less windows."
There was a pause as both boys thought. I didn't bother suggesting anything, they knew this school better than I could ever dream of. "The locker room," Scott suddenly declared.
Stiles nodded and turned to jog down the hall, keeping his steps as light as he could. "So any tips?" he asked me as I kept pace with him with almost comical ease.
"Excuse me?" I asked, trying both to listen to him and keep an eye out for the alpha at the same time.
"Well, I assume you have more experience than us with situations like this," he breathed, pressing a hand to his chest as we rounded a corner, heading down another long hallway. Scott jogged a few paces ahead of us, glancing over his shoulder every few moments in worry.
"Situations like this?" I asked with a small smile, humour getting the better of me. "Running from murderous werewolves?"
"Yeah," he panted, turning left down another hall when Scott did.
"I tend to keep my distance," I muttered, loosing concentration on the conversation as I heard the sound of paws hitting the ground when we passed by a bay of windows. I wasn't focused on the conversation at hand, and made a terrible mistake. "One bite and I'm dead anyway."
I didn't have time to realise I'd said something wrong before Scott was shoving open a door to the right, slipping inside quickly. "Call your dad," he instructed, glancing around the shadowed room cautiously.
"And tell him what?" Stiles asked, heart beating rapidly in his chest.
"Anything," he responded. "A gas leak, a fire; anything. If that thing sees the parking lot full of cops it'll take off."
"What if it doesn't? What if it goes completely terminator and kills every cop in sight? Including my dad?"
"They have guns."
"Yeah and Derek had to be shot with a wolfsbane laced bullet to even slow him down. Remember that?" Stiles retorted tensely, obviously not wanting to risk his dad's life. Something in me admired him, he was willing to risk his life to save that of those he loved. There was once a time I felt the same way. I tried to picture myself sacrificing myself for the boys tonight, letting myself get bitten to ensure their survival. I shook my head, no matter how much I wished I was the kind of person who could do that, I knew that the first opportunity I got I was likely to run away, and keep running until Beacon Hills was nothing more than a dot on the horizon. "Juliet," Stiles began, turning to face me fully where I sat leaning against the lockers, peering into the shadows for any hint of the alpha. "What kind of chance is there that this thing will kill any cops that show up?"
"A high chance," I responded dryly, not meeting his eyes through the darkness.
"But he's a werewolf," Scott muttered confusedly. "Surely he knows what he's doing."
"Like you knew what you were doing that night on the bus?" I asked, raising a single eyebrow at him.
He dropped his head, acknowledging my point. "We have to find a way out and just run for it," he decided after a long moment.
"Dude, there's nothing near the school for at least a mile," Stiles argued in a hushed voice.
"What about Derek's car?"
"That could work," Stiles nodded after a beat. "We'll go outside, get the keys off his body and then we take his car."
"And him."
We both paused, blinking at Scott dubiously. "Fine, whatever," Stiles shrugged carelessly, and I mirrored the action and we spun around, heading for the door.
"Stop," I hissed at the same time as Scott grabbed hold of his friend's arm, pulling him to a stop. I tilted my head to the side, listening to soft footsteps as they headed towards the locker room.
"What?" he asked confusedly, looking between us cautiously.
"I think I heard something."
"Like what?"
Scott shushed him, narrowing his eyes at the door. "Hide," he commanded, darting backwards and shoving himself into an empty locker. I glanced over my shoulder, taking in the frozen form of Stiles who stared at the door in horror. I sighed and grabbed the collar of his shirt, tugging open a locker door and all but throwing him inside. He stared at me, shock and something else in his eyes, before I slammed the door in his face. I knew hiding would do me no good – my scent was too strong – so I stepped back into the shadows, hoping I would at least be able to maintain some kind of element of surprise. The footsteps came closer and I felt the blood drain from my face, preparing to make a change of my own. Before I could fully change, the door swung open and I slammed myself against the concrete of the wall, holding my breath as I watched the man enter the room.
That didn't make any sense. Why the hell would the alpha turn back into a man to come inside? Surely he knew he was much more likely to win against me as a wolf. I stayed in the shadows, recognising instantly that he couldn't have been the alpha. The alpha, for one, would have known I was there. He'd also have smelt like wet dog. This guy just smelt like disinfectant and aging cheese.
He walked straight passed me, not even glancing at me where I stood in the shadows. My mind spun as I caught sight of his jugular pulsing under the thin skin of his neck. If I were to feed from him, I'd be stronger, and I'd have a better chance at getting all of us out of this alive. I wouldn't have to kill him, just a sip would be enough...
I hadn't realised my fangs were starting to descend until the man pulled open the locker Scott was hiding in, both men letting out a scream of fear. I rolled my eyes at how pathetic humans were, stepping out of the darkness and into the light after making sure my mask was back in place. Stiles fell out of his hiding place too, yelping along with them. They shushed him desperately, glancing around wildly. "What are you trying to do? Kill me?" the guy asked, a hand pressed to his chest where his heart was trying to escape its confines. "Both of you get out."
"Will you just listen for half a second, okay?"
"Not okay. Get the hell out of here," he snapped, shoving the boys towards the door. "Right now!"
"Just one second to explain-"
"Just shut up and go," he cut Stiles off. I huffed as his mammoth hand wrapped around my shoulder as he threw me out the door. I growled at him but he took no notice, slamming the door shut in my face. I was about to pull it back open and give the guy a piece of my mind, but before I could so much as grab the handle he was slammed up against the frosted glass window, unmistakeable blood splatter spraying the door. Both boys gasped in shock, while I stared at the scene stoically. I tried to conjure up some sympathy for the man, but like always found it impossible to do so; my vampirism and lack of humanity wouldn't let me. I stared unemotionally as the man's silhouette was thrown against the glass, his dying screams of agony echoing through the hall around us.
Scott leapt at the door, frantically trying to pry it open to save the man. Stiles moved with his friend, reaching around to pull him off the wall to safety. I saw he was struggling; Scott was one strong werewolf. I wrapped my arm around his bicep, heaving him away from the dying man and dragging him down the hall. After a moment Scott seemed to get the idea, standing on his own two feet and following Stiles and I, close on our heels as we heard the door get ripped off it's hinges. The scent of the man's blood made its way to me and I fought the instinct to turn around and go back to lick it off his remains. Instead I pushed myself faster, rushing down the hall as fast as I dared, not wanting to leave the boys behind just yet. I could afford to stay a little longer, it was probably best for me in the long run anyway.
They scrambled down the hall, Stiles practically falling over himself he was so clumsy. I followed, trying not to be annoyed by the slow pace. They reached the south entrance, Scott pushing on the door hastily only for it to jam, obviously blocked by something. I tapped my foot impatiently, tensed in morbid anticipation for the inevitable arrival of the alpha. "It's a dumpster," Scott muttered darkly.
"He pushed it in front of the door, to block us in," Stiles supplied needlessly. He turned to me, an expectant and hopeful look on his face. "Can you push it away?"
"Probably not," I admitted. The thing looked too heavy for even me to push out of the way, and if Scott couldn't, then there was no way I would be able to.
"Stiles, stop!" Scott exclaimed when his friend began beating at the door, frantically trying to break through. I rolled my eyes. If I couldn't do it, there was no chance in hell he could.
"I'm not dying here, I'm not dying here," he mumbled, wrapping his arms around himself as we turned to head back down the hallway. "I'm not dying at school."
"We're not going to die!"
"What is it doing? What does it want?!" Stiles yelled tiredly, clutching the torch tightly.
"Me!" Scott said nervously. "Derek said it's stronger with a pack."
"Oh, great. A psychotic werwolf who's into team work. That's-that's beautiful." I forced my expression to stay sombre, though inside I laughed. Stiles had this uncanny ability to make me laugh in the most dire of circumstances. I couldn't let him know that though, so I smothered any reaction to his comment I may have had and stared straight ahead.
Scott stopped suddenly, throwing out an arm and stopping Stiles soccer-mom style. I blinked, pausing just before running into Stiles' back. I looked up to see Scott staring out the window. I followed his gaze, my eyes narrowing as I caught sight of glowing red eyes attached to a huge bear-like-wolf standing in the shadows on the roof. I curled my lip, about to throw a snarl at it for good measure, when it charged. It sped across the roof, heading directly for us. The boys spun on their heels and booked it down the hall, and I was quick to follow.
Behind me glass shattered as the alpha threw itself through the window, crashing into the wall for a moment before I heard it pick itself up and begin to race after us. All thoughts of saving Scott and Stiles flew from my head as I ran, overtaking the panicked boys with ease. I shoved open a door on the right, not caring where it took me.
I didn't bother with the stairs, merely jumping over the rail and landing flat on my feet before taking off again. I could hear the sound of the boys following me in the distance, their heavy footfalls on the stairs. Shame overtook me and I stopped dead.
What was I doing?
This town was meant to be a fresh start for me. One where I became a better (undead) person. Leaving the boys to die – which they most certainly would without me – was a dick move, even I could see that. So with Myra's words echoing in my head, I spun around and darted back the way I'd come.
I followed the sounds of the racing hearts, scowling to myself and already regretting my decision as I found them on a lower floor, pressed up against some lockers, shaking like little girls. "Juliet!" Stiles exclaimed louder than he should have when I appeared in front of them. "I thought you'd left."
"I almost did," I muttered back to him, staring over my shoulder at the staircase, listening closely for any sign the alpha was near.
"Right, we have to do something," he mumbled, glancing around in fear, unable to keep tabs on the beast like Scott and I could.
"Like what?"
"I dunno," he responded dully and I barely refrained from rolling my eyes. "Kill it? Burn it? Put mental anguish on it? Something."
There was a bang down the hall and both boys practically jumped out of their skin. I pressed my fingers to my temple, trying not to snap at the idiots. They paused, Scott straining his neck to make sure it wasn't getting any closer and Stiles looked deep in thought, glancing around at the room we were at the mouth of.
I hissed at him quietly when he pulled his keys out from his pocket, but he paid me no mind. Suddenly he threw the keys into the room, ducking behind the door and pulling Scott and I with him. I tensed as the beast charged into the room, looking for blood, and Stiles' slammed the door on it, locking it with surprisingly deft fingers then with Scott's help shoved a table in front of the door for good measure. They were panting, exhausted from the effort of moving the heavy table, plus breathless with fear. I crossed my arms, stepping back and getting ready to move.
The werewolf roared, slamming itself uselessly against the door. The boys jumped violently at the noise. "Come on," Stiles urged his friend. "Get across."
Scott hesitated, glancing into the room wearily before rushing over the table, stumbling ungracefully into a tense Stiles. "What are you doing?" he hissed at his friend when he peered around the corner, trying to get a peek at the beast in the room.
"I just wanna get a look at it," he said defensively.
"Are you crazy?"
"Look, it's trapped. Okay? It's not gonna get out."
Stiles climbed onto the table, peering into the small window cautiously as he mumbled to himself. "Shut up," Scott urged.
"I'm not scared of this thing," he argued, only for it to slam against the door suddenly, making him jump a foot in the air, tumbling off the table and onto the hard ground. "I'm not scared of you!" he yelled once he'd put himself back on his feet. I rolled my eyes, listening to the sound of his heart racing in his chest. "Right? 'Cause you're in there and we're out here. You're not going anywh-"
A loud crash sounded from the room it was trapped in and we all froze. The roof above us began creaking, the sound of something moving. I took off in the opposite direction, grabbing Stiles' arm for good measure to tug him along. We raced through the halls, and I barely noticed I still had a hold of Stiles.
"Wait, do you hear that?" Scott said, stopping suddenly in the hall. I froze, tilting my head as I automatically searched for the sound he was referring to.
"Hear what?" Stiles asked confusedly as I caught the sound of a phone ringing in the distance.
"It's a phone," I said with a frown, my fingers twitching to pull out a cigarette. I clenched my hands into fists, stopping the urge in its tracks. Now wasn't the time.
"What?"
"I know that ring!" Scott exclaimed with a gasp. "It's Allison's phone." He spun around, tapping his friend on the shoulder eagerly. "Give me your phone."
"Why?"
"Because mine's still broken," he replied softly but strongly. The short-haired boy handed over his phone, and the teen wolf tapped away at it, holding it up to his ear and beginning to talk to his girlfriend in hushed whispers.
I stared at Stiles unthinkingly. His heart was pounding a mile a minute and he jumped at every creak the old building made in the wind. "You're scared?" I asked before I could stop myself, crossing my arms and leaning back against the lockers.
He blinked, turning to me with a dubious expression. "Of course I'm scared," he hissed, like he was infuriated I'd even asked. "Aren't you?"
A thoughtful frown tugged at my lips. Was I afraid? I hadn't really had time to assess how I felt. I was relatively new to the whole 'emotions' thing, having had my humanity switch flicked off for so many decades. Every emotion was heightened, intense and almost overbearing. They all just sort of blurred together into one; hunger.
It was hard to figure out if what I was feeling was fear. I couldn't sweat like humans, my heart couldn't race and my mouth couldn't go dry. There was an odd fluttering in my gut that felt somewhat foreign, and if I had to put it down to anything, fear would be the most logical assumption. "I think so," I admitted with a grimace, biting my lip as I studied a scuff mark on the linoleum.
"You think so?" he repeated dubiously, raising his eyebrows at me, his heart rate picking up even more. "How can you not know if you're scared?"
I opened my mouth, though I was saved from having to come up with a lie as Scott hung up the phone, stepping closer to where we were hovering and speaking up. "Allison's going to meet us in the lobby," he said, handing the device to Stiles and taking off without warning, causing his friend to moan in annoyance. I rolled my eyes at the young wolf, following after the two boys. Their footfalls weren't exactly soft as they charged through the school. I kept my concentration on looking for signs of the alpha. Those two boys were going to get themselves killed.
"What are you doing here? Why did you come?" Scott asked immediately as they shoved their way into the lobby, my close on their heals.
"Because you asked me to," she replied tensely.
"I asked you to?"
Allison frowned, pressing a button on her phone and holding up the small device, letting us read a text from him to her asking her to meet him at the school. I frowned, eyes glancing upwards as the roof above us creaked. The sound was small, so I assumed it was a possum or something and focused back on the conversation at hand. "Why do I get the feeling you didn't send this message?" she asked carefully, heart beating rapidly in her chest.
"Because I didn't."
"Did you drive here?" Stiles asked impatiently.
"Jackson did."
"Jackson's here too?"
"And Lydia," she told us, and I stifled a groan. Of course those idiots were here. Just three more ignorant people I had to protect. "What's going on? Who sent this text?" Her phone began chiming again and with a sigh she answered it just as I heard footsteps echoing down a hall to our left. "Where are you?" Lydia and Jackson shoved their way into the room, irritated scowls on their pretty faces.
"Finally," the queen-bee sighed, crossing her arms and jutting out her hip. "Can we go now?"
Another creak echoed from above me and everyone in the room froze. Okay, so maybe not a possum. I sucked in a breath, tensing my body as I prepared for a fight.
"Run," Scott commanded, and nobody fought him on it. They all took off running up the stairs, most of them not really sure exactly what they were running from. I was close on their heels; I had the best chance at fighting it off if it got to me I tried not to think about how seriously dead I would be if it managed to bite me, focusing instead on putting one foot in front of the other. We sprinted down the hallway, the massive beast only feet behind us. Scott crashed into the doors at the end of the hall, waiting just long enough for us to fall through before slamming them shut and beginning to shove desks and chairs at the entrance. "Help me get this stuff in front of the door!"
"Scott, wait. No," Stiles protested, and I immediately spun around, blinking up at the huge wall of windows. A sinking feeling appeared in my stomach and I pressed a hand to it in hopes of lessoning the less-than-delightful feeling.
"What was that? Scott, what was that?" Allison asked in a panic, pressing a hand to her forehead.
"Just help me!" he yelled, he and Jackson tugging a particularly large piece of furniture in front of the two doors.
"Guys," Stiles tried again. "Just wait a second." I leaned against the board, closing my eyes and wishing I was curled up in bed with a glass of A-positive and my favourite book. "You guys, listen to me. Will you wait a second?" He began to get more and more agitated as nobody listened. I crossed my arms, tipping my head back so my skull bumped against the board, breathing in deeply through my nose. It only agitated me further as the delicious scents of everyone bar Scott filled the room, and I clenched my jaw shut. "Hello?!" Everyone finally turned to stare at Stiles, who relaxed once he knew he had their attention. "Okay, nice work. Really beautiful job everyone. Now, what should we do about the twenty foot wall of windows."
They all deflated, staring at the glass with frustrated and exhausted expressions.
"Somebody please explain to me what's going on because I'm freaking out here," Allison said suddenly, grasping on to Scott's arm as she pleaded with him for answers. "Scott?"
He pulled away from the girl, marching over to one of the desks and collapsing onto it tiredly. I watched all this happen from my faux-casual position by the board. It was in my nature to hide my emotions, though everyone's irritated and confused glance told me my passive expression wasn't helping anything. "Somebody killed the janitor," Stiles spoke up, surprising us all.
"What?" Lydia squeaked.
"Yeah, the janitor's dead."
"What's he talking about? Is this a joke?" Allison asked.
"Who killed him?" Jackson was the one to speak up this time.
"No, no, no, no. This was supposed to be over. The mountain lion killed-"
"Don't you get it?" Jackson cut her off firmly. "There wasn't a mountain lion."
"Who was it?!" Allison demanded furiously. "What does he want? What's happening? Scott?"
"I don't know. I just-if we go out there, he's going to kill us," he said unconfidently, making me roll my eyes. He needed to learn to lie better than that.
"Us? He's going to kill us?"
"Who? Who is it?"
There was a pregnant pause, before Scott sprouted something surprising. "It's Derek. It's Derek Hale."
"Derek killed the janitor?" Jackson asked dubiously.
"Are you sure?"
They prattled on, arguing amongst themselves. I pressed my fingers to my forehead, breathing through my mouth to make their scents less potent to me. I was aching for a sip, as much as I could get my hands on. I knew it wasn't an option, so I clenched my teeth together tightly, ignoring the incessant burning in my throat and the tingling of my gums.
"Why does Derek want to kill us?" Allison asked loudly, snapping me out of my murderous thoughts and bringing my focus back to the task at hand. "Why is he killing anyone?"
"Why is everyone looking at me?" Scott asked after a lengthy silence as they all stared at him expectantly.
"Is he the one that sent her that text?" Lydia questioned hysterically.
"No! I mean-I don't know," he stumbled over his words.
"Is he the one that called the police?"
"I don't know!"
"Alright, why don't we ease back on the throttle here okay?" Stiles suggested slightly more calmly. Grabbing Scott by the shoulders and steering him away from the group, closer to me. "Hey first up, throwing Derek under the bus? Nicely done."
I smiled despite the situation, though quickly wiped the expression from my face.
"I didn't know what to say, I had to say something," he hissed back defensively. "And if he's dead, then it doesn't matter. Right? Except if he's not... oh God, I totally just bit her head off."
I rolled my eyes at the teen relationship drama as Stiles steered the conversation on. "And she'll totally get over it. Bigger issues at hand here. How do we get out alive?"
"But we are alive. He could have killed us already. It's like it's cornering us or something."
"So what? He wants to eat us all at the same time?"
"No. Derek said it wants revenge."
"Okay!" Jackson shouted, interrupting their little talk rather rudely. I really didn't like that kid. "Stiles calls his useless dad and tells him to send someone with a gun and aim. Are we good with that?"
"He's right. Tell him the truth if you have to," Scott said when Stiles hesitated. "Just call him."
"I'm not watching my dad get eaten alive," he replied in a surprisingly strong tone.
"Alright," Jackson hissed after a beat, surging forwards and grasping Stiles suddenly. "Give me the phone." Stiles suddenly spun around, arm flying almost too quick for my eyes to see and slamming into Jackson's face. I gasped in delight, clapping my hands together, a grin spreading across my lips as I watched the jerk sag, holding his face in pain. Allison gasped for a whole different reason, crouching down to see if he was okay.
As everybody else stared at a recovering Jackson, Stiles' gaze slid over to me. I was surprised by the question his eyes held. I wasn't sure what he wanted, but deep in my gut I could tell it was probably some kind of reassurance. I was no good at that sort of thing, but I nodded anyway, hoping it helped the situation somehow. Stiles sighed, running a hand over his short hair before forcefully tugging his phone free of his pocket. "Dad, hey. It's me," he said defeatedly into the phone. "And it's your voicemail...look I need you to call me back. Now. Like, right now." A loud bang echoed around the room, everybody jumping. I even flinched, then scowled at the involuntary action. "We're at the school dad. We're at the school," he said as the banging continued, somebody (or something) clearly banging on the doors. I stepped away from the wall, moving to the group, angling myself so I stood slightly in front of them, prepared to defend them if it came down to it. "The door out of the kitchen leads to the stairwell," he told us as we stared at the shaking doors.
"It only goes up," Scott argued.
"Up is better than here."
Scott led us, making a dash for the door just as the ones behind us were bashed open. They darted for the stairwell, taking them two at a time in their rush to get to safety. Once we were on the next floor they began desperately jiggling handles, looking for an open door. Jackson found one, and we all spilled into the room. He shoved a chair under the handle, barricading us in. Everyone was silent as we waiting for something to happen. Slow, heavy footsteps passed the door, then disappeared down the hall, along with wet, heavy breathing.
"Jackson, how many people can fit in your car?" Scott asked as loudly as he dared.
"Five, if someone squeezes on someone's lap," he responded.
"Five?" Allison retorted. "I barely fit in the back."
"It doesn't matter, there's no getting out without drawing attention," Stiles murmured.
"Well what about this? This leads to the roof, we could go down the fire escape to the parking lot in like two seconds," Scott suggested.
"That's a deadbolt," he responded with a tired blink.
Scott paused, looking down in defeat before brightening up. "The janitor has a key."
"You mean his body has it."
"I can get it. I can find it by scent. By blood," he told us, barely glancing at me.
"Well gee, that sounds like an incredibly terrible idea. What else you got?" Stiles drawled, and I bit back a smirk.
"I'm getting the key," Scott said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Everyone else argued, saying he couldn't go out there weaponless. I'd have suggested using my daggers, but I didn't want them to know I'd come into this prepared for a fight. It would look too suspicious. Lydia surprised us all by suggesting a self igniting molotov cocktail. I raised my eyebrows at her, then at Jackson as he smashed the glass of the cupboard and they began preparing the weapon.
I leaned back against the board, watching them work uninterestedly. Stiles appeared beside me, and I looked up at him, my expression bored. He jerked his head, motioning for me to follow him. My eyebrows pulled together, but I could see in his eyes that whatever it was was important, so I pushed myself off the wall, following him to the opposite corner of the room where we wouldn't be overheard by the other humans. "What?" I asked once we were there, crossing my arms again and leaning back against some shelves nonchalantly. He opened his mouth, pausing then slamming it shut again, a pensive look on his face. "Spit it out," I drawled, glancing over my shoulder at the group by the teacher's desk, mixing together the molotov cocktail.
"I know," he blurted softly, face scrunching up as he spoke.
I blinked at him, "You know what?"
He swallowed, his adams apple bobbing with the motion. "I know you're-that you're a...vampire," he whispered, saying it like it was a curse word. I considered denying it, but I knew he was too smart for that. I'd seen the looks he'd given me, I'd known he was close to figuring it out. I thought I'd have more time to figure out how I'd react, I wasn't expecting him to discover me so soon. I took a deep breath, keeping my expression clear of emotion as I stared at him through the dark. He seemed to get that I wasn't going to say anything, and barrelled on. "Is there anything you can do?"
I considered his words, wondering how far I was willing to go for these kids. "Not without risking my own life," I told him honestly. He frowned, glancing over at Jackson who was eyeing us suspiciously before turning his attention back to me. I pursed my lips, his expression striking a cord within me. "I'm fast," I admitted under my breath, turning my gaze to the far wall so I wouldn't have to look into his overly-expressive eyes. "Faster than Scott. And certainly faster than the alpha."
"That's something," he said, hope colouring his voice. "Right?"
"One bite, Stiles," I replied tensely, chancing a glimpse at him. His brows were drawn together, and his heart was pounding away in his chest. "One bite and it's game over for me."
"It's the same for everyone though," he whispered, taking a step closer to me. "We're all risking our lives." I stared at him stonily, my teeth grinding together in my mouth. "Listen," he began again, moving closer to me still. I leaned away from him, but he didn't seem to notice. "Out of everyone here, I'm betting you have the best chance at beating this thing."
I narrowed my eyes at him, holding my breath to avoid taking in his scent. "What makes you think that?"
He hesitated, scratching his face idly and considering his words carefully before speaking. "I think you're old." I raised an eyebrow at him, tilting my head and watching as he thought over what he'd said. "What I mean is – I think you've been around a long time. Am I right?" I didn't reply, biting my lip and continuing to stare at him blankly, my face giving nothing away. "Which means you have experience dealing with this sort of thing."
He was right, in a way. I'd never been trapped inside a high school with a bunch of kids trying to fend off a murderous alpha, but I had fought my fair share of werewolves in my time.
"So, given the opportunity, could you beat him?" he asked softly, frowning worriedly as his gaze flickered to the group working by the table.
I pressed my lips together tightly, thinking over his question. "It's a toss of a coin, really," I whispered, glancing away from him, fixing my eyes on the wall behind him, not wanting to look in his eyes as I spoke. "We're most likely pretty evenly matched, the outcome will come down to circumstance; luck."
He nodded, brow furrowing as he considered my words. "You have to try, though."
My lip curled as I snapped my gaze back to him, and his heart leapt at the furious expression. "I don't have to do anything."
He blinked, apparently something about my words surprised him. Suddenly, a steely resolve lit up in his eyes and he took yet another step closer to me, this time so close I could feel his breath on my lips. "You could have run away at any point tonight," he hissed, staring down directly into my eyes. "You're still here. There has to be a reason why."
This time I was the surprised one. Why had I stayed? I didn't care whether they lived or died. Did I? I huffed, opening my mouth to respond, though I wasn't sure what with, when I was interrupted. "Lock it behind me," Scott said to us firmly, and before I knew what I was doing I'd snapped out an arm and grabbed the back of his shirt.
"Wait," I muttered, an annoyed scowl on my lips. Stiles looked down at me with wide eyes, and I pursed my lips tightly before speaking. "You can't go alone," I said darkly, letting him go and crossing my arms, my eyes flickering over the people in the room with barely concealed distain. "I'm coming with you."
"What?" he asked, frowning at me.
"Trust me, it's better for everyone if you just go with it," I grumbled. "Now hurry up before I change my mind."
"You can't be serious," Allison breathed, pressing a hand to her head. "Scott's one thing. But you? You can't weigh more than a hundred pounds, you don't stand a chance." Her lower lip quivered and she sniffled pathetically. I rolled my eyes, reaching behind me and pulling the two daggers from the waistband of my jeans out, twirling them effortlessly in my hands. Lydia stepped back and Jackson stared at me, unimpressed. "Why would you bring weapons if you didn't know this would happen?" Allison asked me suspiciously, a tear slipping down her porcelain cheek.
"I always carry daggers," I lied with a shrug, stepping forwards and shoving Scott along gently. He looked over his shoulder longingly at his girlfriend and I rolled my eyes, pushing him closer to the door. He turned back around, unlocking the door and sliding out into the dark hall.
I slipped through the gap, turning around as I stepped out of the doorway and blinking in surprise as I saw Stiles was only inches from me, preparing to close the door after me. "Be careful," he breathed so quietly I was sure only Scott and I could hear. "Whatever you do...don't get bitten."
I bit back a sarcastic reply, merely nodding my head with one jerky motion and moving further into the hall, daggers held up in front of me as the door bumped shut and the lock clicked into place. I moved my neck in a circle, and it cracked, the sound echoing through the shadows in the hall. Scott opened his mouth to say something to me and I shook my head, pressing a finger to my lips. He nodded, moving forwards through the darkness, keen eyes searching for any hint of the alpha.
Again, I was hit with the knowledge that I could just run. The chances of the alpha catching up to me were slim to none, it was the only way I could be certain I wouldn't die in the Godforsaken school. But, unfortunately for me, Stiles was right. I could have run, and I hadn't yet. Obviously there was a reason why.
I crept behind Scott, my footsteps barely making a sound against the linoleum floor as we walked down the stairs, quietly pushing our way through the door to the first floor.
Scott's nose was better than mine, so I merely followed the young boy, prepared to defend him should the alpha attack. He padded into the gymnasium, slowly making his way under the seats, stepping over the metal supports and sniffing the air every few moments. I followed him silently, tensing up every time the seats creaked. I took a deep breath in to help relax me, and immediately I froze.
Blood.
My gums tingled, my eyes and throat burned and my muscles coiled. I hadn't realised how hungry I was until I caught the irresistible scent of the liquified life exposed to the air. Scott stopped dead ahead of me, slowly looking upwards. I copied the action, heat flaring through me as I caught sight of the janitor's bloodied corpse hanging from the supports. I shoved down the urge to feed, shifting my weight to the balls of my feet, prepared to at any moment fend off an attack.
The boy caught sight of the keys and set down the molotov cocktail, pulling himself up to reach them where they hang from the man's belt. Before he could grab them, the seats started to collapse in on themselves, somebody clearly doing it on purpose. I froze for a moment before grasping Scott by the arm and wrenching him from his spot on the supports. Luckily for us he'd gotten the keys, and he swooped down to grab the cocktail before hightailing it outta there. I made it to safety before him, knives held up and ready to attack. He rolled out into the open, immediately leaping to his feet.
A deep growling from the other end of the building rumbled through the room, and we both spun around to face the source. I allowed my face to change, veins crawling up my cheeks and fangs sliding from my gums. I snarled in warning, Scott flinching at the feral sound before gathering himself and glaring determinately at the alpha. I idly spun the daggers in my hands, as I watched the beast crawl towards us, saliva dripping from its clenched muzzle.
"Come on," he muttered, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "Come and get us."
It charged towards us, but before it could get close enough to land any hits Scott threw the molotov cocktail at it. I was expecting it to blow up, so I was greatly disappointed when nothing happened other than the glass shattered and the liquid inside spilled everywhere.
"Shit," I mumbled as the monster roared, undeterred as it moved towards us. It had no interest in me, reaching for Scott as he turned to run, tripping him and pulling him closer to him, the boy sliding hopelessly across the floor. I hissed, my fangs biting into my lower lip as the beast reared around to face me. It swiped at me but I dodged it with ease, using the moment of confusion to my advantage by slicing it across the chest with one of the daggers in my hand. It growled, my cut nothing more than an irritation, and with one swipe of it's paw shoved me out of the way. I scowled as I hit the floor, my head banging against the hard ground. Black spots danced in my vision as I pushed myself to my feet.
I was too late. It was already hovering over Scott, staring at him intelligently before letting out a mighty howl. I winced, slapping my hands over my ears as the sound vibrated through me. After a long, painful moment it stopped and leapt over a convulsing Scott. I knew what had happened; it had been a command, an order to shift. I knew Scott was no longer in control of himself, so staying around him wasn't an option for me. I turned, following the path the alpha had taken through the school, ignoring Scott's pained screams from behind me.
I was faster, and caught up to it with relative ease. I overtook it, sliding in front of it and blocking its path. "Hello, mutt," I said as we both paused. It growled, dipping into a defensive crouch. I copied the action, ready to fight.
Without any warning it flew at me. I slipped out of the way, appearing on its other side and stabbing it in the chest with a dagger. It groaned but recovered almost instantly, spinning around and opening its jaws wide, preparing to bite me. I dodged out of the way again, punching it in the eye and jumping back. It snarled, and I snarled right back, flashing him my pearly white fangs. It made another move to bite me, and I ducked under it's jaw. While I was distracted by trying to keep it's teeth from my flesh, it managed to land a hit on my torso.
I was slammed back into the lockers, my head hitting the metal hard enough that I knew I'd have a concussion. I winced, falling to the ground. The alpha turned on it's heel and ran, disappearing down the hall before I could stand and catch up. I looked down at myself, frowning in confusion as I saw red seeping through my white t-shirt. The bastard had scratched me.
I moved to sit up, but almost immediately fell back down as a searing pain rocked through me. I bit my lip hard enough to draw blood, trying to muffle my screams. Scratches from an alpha werewolf were just as bad as bites in the pain department, the only difference being it wouldn't kill me, just hurt like a bitch and take forever to heal. I moved a shaky hand to the hem of my top, slowly pulling it up to view the damage.
I had three deep gashes running from just under my breast down diagonally across my stomach and ending at my hipbone. I hissed as I touched them, they felt like they were on fire and were bleeding excessively. At this rate I was going to pass out from blood loss before I had a chance to get to safety.
I couldn't move if I wanted to, all I could do was press my hands to my stomach and pray my healing would kick in enough to stop the blood flow. It could have been hours, though it was probably minutes later, when I heard the sound of hurried footsteps on the stairs to my right. I opened my eyes, frowning as I didn't remember shutting them, and looking up with fuzzy sight as the figure of a person ran towards me.
"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God," the familiar voice of Stiles muttered, dropping to his knees and sliding the last few feet towards me, coming to rest at my side. "Are you okay?" At my weak glare he winced, nodding his head. "Right, stupid question." His hands hovered above my body, like he wasn't sure what to do with them. "I'm gonna be sick," he said as he looked down at his knees which were covered in blood from the puddle on the floor. "Are you gonna die?"
"No," I grunted, grasping his arm with my hand. "Help me up."
"I really don't think you should stand-"
"Help. Me. Up."
He swallowed, his adams apple bobbing as he scrambled to his feet, reaching down and unsteadily pulling me to my feet with him. I wobbled, hissing at the flare of agony that ripped across my torso. "Shouldn't you be healing?" he asked under his breath as he gently tugged me down the hallway, towards where I could hear the sounds of the police beginning to sweep the building. "Wait you can heal, right? Because I read some lore that said you couldn't because technically you're dead-" I wrenched myself out of his arms, a furious scowl on my lips. I pressed one hand to my bleeding stomach, the other to the wall to help me balance.
"I have to go, nobody can see this blood, or they'll ask questions I don't want to have to answer," I told him hurriedly, freezing as I heard footsteps heading towards where we were standing.
"You can't leave," he hissed, stepping closer to me but immediately shifting back at the sight of my glare. "Lydia, Allison and Jackson have already seen you and no doubt already told the police."
"Well what the hell do you expect me to do?" I growled, blinking away the black spots from my vision and focusing on him. I took a deep breath in, flinching at the pain ripping across my torso. "Let the paramedics examine me and realise I don't have a heartbeat?"
Stiles looked contemplative for a long moment as I anxiously listened to the sound of footsteps only a hall over from us. "I have a sweater in my locker," he said suddenly, spinning around on his heel and disappearing around a corner. I blanched, blinking at the empty air in front of me. That little prick had just left me.
A door at the end of the hall pushed open and a deputy ran in, spotting me instantly and darting over to help me. "Are you alright, miss?"
"Go to the other side of the school," I commanded him, struggling to keep our eyes locked as I did my little party trick. "Forget you saw me here."
"Yes ma'am," he responded politely, turning on his heel and marching back down the hall.
I sagged, already exhausted. I was weak, and only going to get weaker. One deputy? No problem. An entire crowd of police and paramedics? Slight problem.
"Hey," Stiles said, reappearing in front of me. I blinked vacantly, not having noticed him approach. He held out a handful of black fabric, "I spilt coke on it the other day and left it in my locker to dry but forgot to get it after school." I swayed on my feet, trying to make my lips move so I could tell him I didn't care. "Whoa, okay," he mumbled, pressing his empty hand to my shoulder to steady me.
I nudged him off, tentatively reaching for my shirt and slowly – and painfully – peeling it off my body. I hissed in pain as the fabric rubbed over my wounds but didn't stop until it was over my head. I handed it off to Stiles, who had gone white. I wasn't sure if it was the sight of my lacy white bra or the three deep gashes slicing across my body. Probably a combination of both. I handed him the blood soaked shirt, taking the black sweater from him and hesitantly slipping my arms into the holes, zipping it up over my injuries carefully. "Toss it," I told him quietly, shoving the feeling of the pain into the back of my mind, forcing myself to stand straight and confident, so no one could tell I was hurt.
"What?" he asked unintelligently.
I rolled my eyes. "The bloody shirt, Stiles," I said tightly, glancing down at the red stained fabric pointedly. "Toss it into the bottom of a trashcan where they won't find it."
He nodded, hurrying over to the far wall and slipping the shirt into the bottom of the can. I took a deep breath in, immediately clenching my teeth together as I was once again surrounded by the boy's mouthwatering scent. Why did he have to smell so damn delicious?
We made our way towards the main entrance, but didn't get there before Stiles' father – the Sheriff – appeared on front of us, pulling his son into a warm embrace. "Are you okay?" he asked worriedly, cupping his hands around the boy's shoulders and holding him away so he could look him over. "Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine, dad," he told his father, who continued to eye him carefully, searching for any hint of an injury.
Finally he nodded, pulling his son into another hug before letting him go, his eyes sliding over to me, only just noticing I was there. "Juliet, right?" he asked, also looking me over, assessing the damage. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Sir," I told him with a reassuring nod.
He nodded back, shooting me a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Come on," he said, leading us out of the school, hand not for a second leaving his son's back. i glanced back up at the dark, looming school behind us. In a way, I was proud. I hadn't run. I'd done what Myra would have wanted me to do. I stayed and I fought. I knew I could do it now. I knew I could fight.
