I'm cursing like a sailor and lying like a thief

It's hard to heed the calling from the better side of me

When I'm blaming everybody else and no one's coming clean

Ragged Company – Grace Potter


"When you asked me to help you tonight, this wasn't what I had in mind," I yelled over the sound of sirens, leaping over a fallen support beam with ease, grabbing hold of Derek's jacket and yanking him faster across the uneven ground, his feet sliding on the loose gravel.

"Shut up and run," he snapped back as I took a sharp left turn, one hand going up to my hood to make sure the black material hadn't fallen down. The hunters knew who I was, but if the cops found out it would make things even more difficult for me, it was hard enough to stay under the radar as it was, I didn't need a BOLO attached to my falsified record.

"Where are they?" I asked as we turned down another street, dodging the hood of a police car as it pulled out in front of us.

"I can hear them, they're only a block over," he panted. I clenched my jaw and pushed myself harder, while making sure I didn't go so fast that I lost Derek. I'd never hear the end of that one.

He darted into an abandoned industrial building, and I followed, sticking close to his side. Loud barking met my ears, the police dogs clearly on our tail. I huffed exasperatedly, leaping up onto a crate and watching as Derek spun around, eyes glowing a brilliant blue and canines exposed, snarling at them wildly. They scampered back to where they'd come from, whimpering with their tails between their legs.

"Cute trick," I stated dryly, stepping off the crate, dropping towards the ground. "Come on," I urged, motioning for him to follow me around the corner of a large machine. I froze halfway, Derek bumping into my back. "Someone's watching us," I hissed, eyes scanning the shadows. There was a flash of migraine-inducing light in front of us, and we both recoiled, all but jumping back. My vision adjusted quickly, but Derek continued to stumble. I turned the full power of my glower to the source of the weapon, glaring at Argent from under the cover of my hood.

He broke eye contact, hurrying to reload his crossbow. I didn't stick around to see what he'd pull out next, I all but shoved Derek back behind the machine, diving back beside him, my back pressed up against his side as I waited, ignoring the way he flinched away from the contact. We didn't end up having to come up with a brilliant escape plan, Derek's car, driven by the other two teenage members of our little rebellion gang, came sliding into the room, coming to a stop only feet away from us.

"Get in!" Stiles yelled, cracking open the door before leaping over the backseat to give us room.

I didn't waste time knowing Derek could look after himself, I darted to the car just as Argent pulled out a gun, beginning to fire at us. I felt a thump and an irritation in my bicep as I dove over the seat, slipping in beside Stiles just before Derek jumped into the passenger seat, slamming the door shut behind him.

"What part of laying low don't you understand?!" Scott asked furiously, speeding out of the warehouse and onto a backroad.

"Dammit, I had him!" Derek responded, ignoring the teen wolf.

"Who, the alpha?" Stiles asked, leaning over the seat, unintentionally forcing me to lean back to avoid being pressed against him.

"Yes! He was right in front of us and the fucking police show up!"

"Hey, they're just doing their jobs."

Derek's head snapped around, a furious glare forming on his features, making the younger boy's heart stutter with fear. I rolled my eyes, reaching forwards and pressing a hand to his chest, shoving him back to sit properly in the seat.

"Yeah, thanks to someone who decided to make me the most wanted fugitive in the entire state," Derek continued unhappily, glowering at Scott who was torn between him and focusing on the road.

"Can we seriously get past that?" the boy asked desperately, easing his foot off the gas as we sped around a corner. "I made a dumbass mistake, I get it."

The older beta opened his mouth to snap back, but I leaned forwards, putting an end to the squabble. "Okay, so we all agree everyone's to blame but me," I chirped, aiming for playful but coming across as more of a bitch. Stiles was the only one who seemed to see it for what it was: a distraction. He sniggered from beside me while Scott and Derek rolled their eyes in annoyance.

"How did you guys find him?" the Sheriff's son spoke up, leaning over the seat again, forcing us closer together. When Derek didn't respond I opened my mouth to tell them, but Derek cut me off with a sharp look. It was my turn to roll my eyes, deciding keeping the peace was the most important thing and keeping quiet.

"Can you just try to trust us for at least half a second?" Scott asked tiredly.

"Yeah, both of us." Derek turned around, the full force of his glare focused on an uncomfortable Stiles. "Or just him," he corrected, heart once again jumping in fear, "I'll be back here." I pursed my lips at the beta, reaching up to lightly pat Stiles on the back, an action that made his heart stutter again. I immediately lifted my hand, frowning. Of course it would scare him, I was a vampire for fuck's sake, and my skin was the temperature of a corpse.

"Look, the last time I talked to my sister she was close to figuring something out," Derek explained, and I listened carefully. He hadn't gone through this information with me, and I was annoyed I hadn't been told immediately. All he'd said was that he had a lead on where the alpha might be, and I'd been stupid enough not to ask questions. I wouldn't be making that mistake again. "She found two things. The first was a guy named Harris."

Stiles all but leapt into the gap between their heads again, staring at Derek. "Our chemistry teacher?" he asked incredulously, though I couldn't see the expression on his face from the way he was angled. My lip curled at the mention of the horrid man I was forced to interact with on a daily basis, but I saved my scathing comments for a time when he would actually be around to hear them.

"Why him?" Scott asked from the driver's seat.

"I don't know yet," he responded evenly.

"What's the second?"

He dug in his pocket, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper with something drawn on it in pencil. "Some kind of symbol," he told him, and by extension, us. Scott glanced away from the road to get a look at the picture, and he jerked back in surprise once he saw it, taking the car with him a few inches to the left. Stiles' hand shot out and grasped my upper leg through my leather pants, and I looked from it to his face, which was slowly becoming a deep crimson. He awkwardly peeled his hand from the position, clearing his throat and making a show of putting his attention on the conversation at hand.

"What?" Derek asked Scott sharply. "Do you know what this is?"

"I've seen it on a necklace," he admitted reluctantly as I leaned forwards, ignoring the way I could still feel the heat of Stiles' hand, and got a look at the picture. I'd seen it before too, and it wasn't too surprising where. Of course the Argents had something to do with this whole mess. "Allison's necklace."

"Well you have to get it from her," he replied, folding the paper halfheartedly before shoving it back into his pocket.

"Easier said than done," Scott mumbled.

"Pull over."

"What?" he asked in surprise, blinking across the cab at the man.

"Pull over," he repeated. Scott did as asked, pulling off to the side of the road just on the edge of suburbia, I could see the lights from the first houses just beyond the trees. Derek shoved open the door and climbed out, stalking around to the drivers side where Scott sat, dumbfounded. "Out," he said, ripping open the door and gesturing for the boy to get out of the car.

"How are we supposed to get home?"

"Not my problem," Derek said heartlessly, and with a sigh Scott climbed from the car. I followed, then Stiles after me. "I'll call you when I know the next step," he murmured into my ear as he moved to slide into his car. With an unnecessary rev of the engine, he disappeared in a cloud of dust from the road.

"Prick," I muttered, kicking a pebble on the ground, watching uninterestedly as it flew across the road, crashing into the tree with a loud crack that made Stiles jump violently. I spun around, shoving my hands into the pockets of the hoodie I was wearing and stepping into the shadows.

"Where're you going?" Stiles asked loudly, and I paused before I hit the tree line.

"Home," I said slowly, like he was stupid.

"You-you're just going to leave us out here?" he asked, gesturing to the empty road and looming canopy, rays of moonlight just barely shining through, illuminating our faces. "You're going alone?"

I pursed my lips, my brow furrowing. "I figured you're big boys," I told him, allowing my lips to quirk up in a small smirk. "Besides, Scott can watch your back."

"I'm more worried about your back," he said, and immediately my hand drifted to my back pocket. I tugged a loose cigarette free, slipping it between my lips and bringing my lighter up to light it. I took a drag, listening to the steady pump of his heart.

"Would it make you feel better if I walked with you?" I asked meaning to sound condescending, but ending up sounding like I actually cared.

"It would actually," he said, calling my bluff.

I rolled my eyes, flicking the ash of the end of my stick and walking back towards them. I passed them and made it several paces down the road before I stopped and looked back, observing he and Scott, who had remained oddly silent thus far. "Well?" I asked impatiently.

They looked at each other, having one of their silent communications before they both turned and walked towards me. I didn't wait to them to catch up, turning back around and heading down the road. A moment later we were in suburbia, under the harsh fluorescents of the street lights. I didn't like them, they made me look even paler than I already was, but I put up with it for the boys.

"So are there any other vampires in Beacon Hills?" Stiles asked conversationally, speaking so loudly that a man walking his dog on the opposite side of the road turned to look at us through narrowed eyes.

I let my eyes slip closed for a moment, praying for patience from Zeus or Ra or whoever the fuck was listening, before I opened them again, taking in another lungful of chemicals. "No," I answered, glancing up at the heavens, only just able to make out the Little Dipper with the lights from the area. "At least, not that I know of," I blew out the smoke in a perfect ring, ducking under it and continuing forwards. "It's just me."

I'd sounded more sad than I'd meant to, but I didn't add anything further. "You must miss your own kind, huh?" Scott spoke up for the first time from where he walked closest to the road.

I decided there wasn't any harm in replying honestly, so I nodded. "Yeah, sometimes."

"So, how do you become a vampire?" he asked, and it occurred to me that I hadn't really told either he or Stiles much about the process. The other boy listened on, appearing outwardly nonchalant, though I could tell how eager he was for answers.

"You don't want to know," I said simply, grimacing at the thought. I didn't want them to hate me any more than they probably already did.

"We really do," Stiles replied, jumping forwards a few steps so we were walking beside each other. "So come on, what is it? A bite, like werewolves?"

I snorted amusedly, rolling my eyes at him, though not maliciously, "Nothing that tacky." I wasn't sure what Scott's response to that would be, but he still surprised me when he chuckled lightly. I decided it wouldn't hurt to tell them the truth. It wasn't like either of them were secretly wishing to be vampires, not that Scott could anyway. "Basically you have to feed on a vampire's blood, then die with it in your system. Once you wake up, you need to feed on human blood to complete the transformation," I told them gravely. "It's a complicated process."

They were both quiet, taking in what I'd said. "This is my stop," Scott spoke up, pausing in front of a familiar two storey house. "I guess I'll see you guys at school tomorrow," he said, smiling slightly, thoughts clearly elsewhere. Before he turned to walk up his drive, he turned to me, face serious. "If anything happens before you guys are home, if the alpha..." he trailed off, glancing at his best friend who was scowling.

"Yeah," I nodded, not in the mood to hear him plead. I got the idea. Protect Stiles. "You got it."

He smiled again, reaching out to pat me one the shoulder friendlily. I forced myself not to flinch away, pushing my lips up into a small smile in return. He turned to Stiles, did some weird handshake thing that I didn't understand before clapping him on the shoulder too and wandering up to his front door. I waited until he was inside before turning and continuing down the road to Stiles' house. It meant I was walking in the opposite direction to my house, but Stiles didn't mention it, and I was happy to keep silent.

"Have you ever done it?" Stiles asked softly after a lengthy pause, glancing over at me, probably only just able to make me out as we moved out of the streetlights. "Turned someone?"

I didn't meet his gaze, staring forwards as I took a drag from my cigarette to put off answering for as long as I could. "Yes," I finally said, my expression stony.

"Why?"

It was an innocent enough question, though it didn't have an innocent answer. Sure, he wasn't repulsed by me yet, but there were certain things I could tell him, things that could make his skin crawl, make him look at me with fear and loathing.

"Hey."

I realised he'd stopped and I turned around to face him, watching as he swatted away the bugs flying around his head.

"Nothing you tell me is going to send me running," he said seriously as I finished off my smoke, dropping it to the ground and crushing it under the low heel of my sensible boot. I avoided his eyes, my gaze going to my lapis lazuli daylight ring, fiddling with it idly. "Jules..."

I looked up, taken by surprise at the nickname.

He smiled, but it was careful, controlled in a way I didn't know he was capable of. "You did some fucked up things in your past, I get it," he said understandingly, and I was momentarily taken aback by his colourful language, but it quickly gave way to an amused smirk. "I'm not going to judge you for it."

I licked my lips, taking my time. "Some decades were more boring than others," I said quietly, turning around and beginning to walk down the street, his footsteps hurriedly picked up behind me as he worked to keep pace. "Sometimes I was lonely and so I did what most vampires do when they get lonely and I...made myself some friends," I told him, my hands twisting in front of me. "Literally."

He was quiet again, processing what I'd said. In a way it was amusing; it took a lot to take words away from Stiles Stilinski. "Where are they now?" he asked after a while, handing finding their way into his pockets.

"Some met people they liked more than me," I shrugged like it didn't still hurt. "Some went off alone, preferring to live as nomads." I paused, swallowing thickly, "Most are dead." I stared into the distance, trying to force myself not to remember Hilary with her flaming red hair, or Bess with the bluest eyes to ever blue, Slater with the thirst for knowledge, or Nathan and Lynda who were the cutest couple I knew, or Marty and Josephine, may they rest in peace. "I'm still in contact with a few of them," I said offhandedly. "If you ever wanna see a vampire party in action I have this great friend over in Virginia who I think you'd love. I actually didn't turn him, I just met he and his brother a while back, you're both as sarcastic as each other," I paused to smirk at him.

"Juliet Cooper: vampire pimp," he joked, framing his hands across the sky like it was written on a billboard. I forced myself not to wince at the fake name, keeping the smirk pasted across my red lips.

"That's me," I said with a light laugh, nudging him softly with my elbow. He chuckled, shaking his head and smiling at the ground. "Sleep well, Stiles," I said, coming to a stop outside his house.

"What?" he asked in confusion, spinning around and catching sight of his home, shoulders slumping, "Oh." I turned around, heading back the way we'd come. "Are you going to be okay?" he asked loudly, and I paused under the light of a street lamp, glancing back at him over the shoulder.

"Of course," I responded, shrugging simply.

A wicked smirk crossed his face as he crossed his arms. "You're not afraid of the big bad wolf?" he asked, and I was thrown back to several weeks ago, when I'd first met he and Scott in the woods, and I'd said nearly the exact same thing to them.

Clearly he remembered it just as well as I did, and I couldn't help the grin that spread across my lips. "Never," I replied, winking teasingly before spinning back around, wandering off into the night, trying not to think about how I could feel his eyes on me until I turned the corner.


"We have a problem," Scott said the next day, grabbing my arm and tugging me from my locker, barely giving me time to hit it shut before we were halfway down the hall, Stiles in tow.

"Okay?" I said in confusion, ripping my arm from his grasp, readjusting the old army jacket I'd picked up when I was actually in the army, pushing the sleeves back up passed my elbows. I held my books to my chest and nodded for him to lead the way.

"Jackson knows," he said gravely, glancing at every corner like the guy would be standing there watching him.

"Knows what?" I asked with a frown, glancing back at Stiles. He looked just as stressed as his werewolf best friend, so I assumed this was as serious as they were saying it was.

"That I'm a...you know?"

I shot him a deadpan expression, unamused by his words. "It's not a dirty word Scott," I grumbled with an eye roll. "This is who you are now, might as well come to terms with the word werewolf." Stiles nodded enthusiastically, apparently wholeheartedly agreeing with my point.

"Aren't you the least bit concerned?" Scott asked, brow furrowing.

"No," I said with a shrug.

They looked at each other for a moment before looking back at me. "Why not?" Stiles asked carefully.

"Hello?" I said sarcastically, pointing to myself. "Vampire?" That didn't seem to clear things up for them. "I happen to possess the gift of compulsion."

"You can make him forget he knows anything?" Scott asked hopefully, stepping closer so we wouldn't be overheard.

"Yeah," I nodded. "And implant false memories, and make him to leave town, or even him kill himself if I so desire."

Scott looked disturbed by what I said, but Stiles seemed to take it in his stride. "We'll keep that last one as plan C," he said, lips twitching. "For now if you could just make him forget, that'd be great."

He shot me a double thumbs-up which I hurried to copy with enthusiasm, a sarcastic grin on my lips. He scrunched his nose at me unhappily, but I paid him no mind. "I'll go get shit done," I said. "I'll come find you when it's done."

I didn't wait for a reply, merely blending into the crowd, on a hunt for Jackson. I only had to ask two people if they'd seen him before I found him entering the boy's toilet on the second floor. I tilted my head as I paused outside, carefully listening for anyone else in there with him. Once I'd determined that he was alone, I shoved my way into the room, locking the door behind me, making him look up in surprise at the sound.

I set my books down on the counter, stalking towards him. A cocky smirk appeared on his lips as he held up his hands. "Listen, Juliet right?" He didn't wait for a reply. "Look, I'm flattered, really, I am, but the men's room? That's so freshman. Why don't we-"

"Shut up," I snapped as I approached him, slamming my forearm against his chest, forcing him into the wall beside the sink. His eyes widened in alarm and he struggled to push back, sucking in a sharp breath as he realised I was stronger than him. "You're going to forget everything-"

"What are you talking about?!" he exclaimed, trying to slip out from my hold.

I frowned when it didn't immediately work, grabbing his chin with my free hand and forcing him to look deep into my eyes as my pupils expanded. "You're going to forget everything you know about Scott McCall-"

"Get off of me!" he yelled, and I clamped a hand over his mouth. It wasn't working. Why wasn't it working?

I shoved him back again, one hand over his mouth, the other running down his arms and chest, looking for something, but hoping I was wrong. I hissed in pain when my hand met a small disk of metal, the coating on it acid to my skin. "Where did you get this broach?" I asked roughly, letting go of my hold on his mouth to grasp both sides of his collar, pulling him forwards and slamming him back into the wall.

"I don't know-"

"Where did you get it?" I repeated, glaring at him, trying not to breathe through my nose so I couldn't smell the blood pumping so very fast through his veins, just beneath the skin.

"Allison gave it to me," he answered angrily, once again struggling against my hold.

"Why?"

"What do you mean, why?" he asked in confusion.

"I mean why did she give it to you?"

"She said her aunt gave them to her to give to her friends, something about being a symbol of protection. I don't know!" he said wincing as my grip tightened. I glowered at him for a long moment, weighing my options before letting him go. He panted against the bathroom wall, pressing a hand to his chest where I'd held him, no doubt a bruise would form in the next day or so, but that was the least of my worries.

"Tell anyone about this and I'll cut off your dick and lodge it in your oesophagus," I warned him. He didn't reply, merely staring up at me with wide eyes. With a final glare I picked up my books, nonchalantly fixed my hair in the mirror then unlocked the door, sauntering out like I hadn't just threatened his life.


It took until lunch to meet up with the boys again, I found them at their usual table, whispering over their food.

"Did you find anything else out?" Stiles asked as I approached.

"Just that I know nothing about girls and that they're totally psychotic," Scott replied, staring at his food while I silently slipping into the chair opposite them both.

"Ouch," I said loudly with a smirk on my lips, making them both jump in their chairs, heads snapping around to stare at me. "You know Scott, I resent that."

"I-I didn't mean you," he stumbled over his words, trying to dig himself out of the hole he was in. I raised a single eyebrow, and he looked away awkwardly.

"Look, I came up with a plan B just incase anything like this happened," Stiles said, breaking the tension.

"What's plan B?" Scott asked, happy for the change of topic.

"Just steal the stupid thing."

"Can't we try at least getting to Harris?"

"My dad put him on a twenty-four hour protective detail. The necklace is all we've got," Stiles sighed, dropping his chips onto his plate in defeat.

"While we're sharing news," I said, reaching over to pick up one of his discarded chips, frowning at it before deciding it wouldn't kill me and popping it into my mouth. It was salty but not altogether unpleasant. "Jackson can't be compelled."

There was a beat of silence before Stiles snapped back into action. "He what?" he asked furiously, sitting up straighter to peer at the boy at the other end of the room. "Why the hell not?"

"Your little girlfriend gave him vervain," I muttered with a nod at Scott, lip curling in anger as I absentmindedly picked up another chip, just for something to do.

"What's vervain?"

"Vampire's wolfsbane," I said nonchalantly. "Poison to us, also prevents the affects to compulsion."

"How is that possible?" Scott whisper yelled, looking around in alarm. "She doesn't know anything. Does she?"

"I don't think so," I shrugged, crossing one leg over the other and picking up Stiles' drink, unscrewing the lid and taking a sip before I'd even realised I'd moved. I frowned down at the bottle before capping it and sliding it back over to the boy, who just took it with a nod. "I managed to get Jackson to tell me that it was her aunt's idea, something about being a symbol of protection and handing them out to her friends." I huffed, a strand of hair flying away from my face before floating back down to rest on my cheek. "Whatever, either way I can't touch it to get it off, it burns me every time I try, so one of you will somehow have to rip it off his shirt for me. It's a little broach in the shape of a tree-"

"Guys, he's watching us."

I frowned at the uncharacteristically rude interruption, but when I followed his line of sight over my shoulder, I saw that he was indeed right. The little dick potato was watching us with a creepily intense look on his face, jaw clenched tight, clicking every few moments.

"Act normal," he muttered, ducking his head, shoulders stiffening as he struggled to look anywhere but at the other boy. I rolled my eyes, leaning back in my chair, throwing one arm over the back and kicking my feet up on the empty chair beside me.

"Scott."

Both of us tensed, but I immediately relaxed my shoulders. "Don't react," I whispered to Scott warningly, staring at a spot on the ceiling like it was the most fascinating thing in the room.

"Can you hear me? You can, can't you? You and your little friend."

Stiles frowned in confusion at the stonily looks on our faces. "What's wrong?" he asked quietly, taking care to keep his eyes on his friend.

"Jackson's talking to us, he knows we can hear him," Scott told him under his breath. "Look at me," he instructed when the boy looked away. "Just talk to me; act normal."

"Are you trying to pretend not to hear me?"

"Say something," he hissed again when Stiles remained silent.

Stiles gestured wildly, at a loss, "I can't think of anything, my mind is completely blank."

"Your mind's blank? You can't think of something to say?"

"Not under this kind of pressure." He huffed, taking a chance and glancing where the boy was sitting. "FYI he's not even sitting with them anymore." I looked up, brow furrowing as I took in the empty chair.

"Where the fuck...?" I trailed off, eyes narrowing as I searched the room.

"Looking for me? I'm right here." I rolled my eyes, returning my gaze to the ceiling and tapping out a beat on the table with my nails. What a twat. "So what else can you two do? Can you see better? Are you stronger? More powerful? Now, I knew there was no way McCall suddenly got that good at lacrosse. Which means you're actually a cheater. Aren't you? Can you even play lacrosse?"

"Yes," Scott muttered angrily.

"Don't rise to the bait, Scott," I said softly, my fingers never pausing their tapping.

"I bet my new co-captain is gonna score a bunch of shots tonight, aren't you? And while you're pretending you're not a lying cheat, I'm going to ruin your life if you don't give me what I want. And you know what I'm going to start with? Her. I'm going to destroy any chance you have left with her. And when I'm done with that I'm gonna get her all alone then I'm gonna get me hand all over that tight little body."

"Scott, come on, you can't let him do this, you can't let him have this kind of power over you," Stiles said, there for his friend even though he wasn't sure what the bastard was saying. Scott's hand clenched around the water bottle he was holding.

"I'm gonna do everything you never got the chance to do. Scott, she's going to beg for more. I'll bet she likes to get loud. Maybe she's even a screamer. How're you gonna feel Scott, when she's screaming my name?"

I didn't appreciate his blatant disrespect for Allison, who was such a sweet and kind soul. I reached forwards and picked up Stiles' apple, spinning around and launching it at Jackson's head. He grunted as it collided with his skull at the same time as Scott snapped his tray in half, making every head in the cafeteria turn to stare. I met their gazes with a cool stare of my own, and slowly they all turned away, made uncomfortable by the coldness in my eyes.

"Did you just throw my apple at Jackson's head?" Stiles asked after a moment, looking from the empty spot where his apple had been to where Jackson stood in the corner, glaring darkly, a red mark forming above his eyebrow.

I watched him as his jaw clicked a final time and he turned around, stalking from the room. The corner of my lips curved up into a light smirk. "Yes," I responded cooly, my finger resuming their dance on the table.

"Cool."

I glanced at him, taking in his impressed smile and forcing down the warm glow it gave me in my gut.

"Listen," he continued after a moment. "I have an idea about what we need to do next to find the alpha."

I waited for him to continue, but he simply stared, apparently awaiting a reply. "And?" I prompted impatiently.

He opened his mouth to reply, but the bell rang, echoing through the room, bouncing off the linoleum floor. "Meet me at my Jeep after school, you can come to mine and help. I'll explain on the way."

I figured arguing would get me nowhere, so I shrugged. It wasn't like I had anything better to do with my time.

He waited until we were halfway to his house, windows rolled down and some tacky pop song playing from the radio, to explain his plan to me.

"So basically we're somehow tracing who the original sender of the text was?" I asked for confirmation, my brain having some difficultly wrapping around the complicated techno-babble.

"Yeah," he nodded, taking a left down a side street.

It was silent for a while, both of us enjoying the fresh air and quiet rumble of the engine before I decided to speak up. "Are you excited for the game tonight?" I asked him curiously, finding that I wasn't just going through the motions; I was actually interested in the answer to my question. I'd found that happening a lot over the recent weeks, wanting to know more about Stiles than I'd ever really wanted to know about anyone. I told myself it was because there was something different about him, something special.

"Yeah," he nodded, a genuine smile spreading across his lips.

"First line," I said needlessly, watching from the corner of my eye as his grin brightened.

"Yeah," he repeated giddily. "I still can't believe it."

"You're going to be great," I said somewhat stiltedly, hoping I came across as encouraging or supportive instead of awkward.

He glanced over at me, "You think?"

"I know," I replied confidently as we pulled into his driveway. I cracked open my door, dropping to the ground and letting it swing shut behind me. I noticed his dad's cruiser parked to the right, meaning the man was home. Stiles led the way up the drive, stepping through the door and gesturing for me to follow him. We didn't immediately run into his dad, I could hear his heartbeat coming from the lounge room, Stiles just moved up the stairs to his room, trusting me to follow him.

Before I stepped through the door I caught a whiff of a familiar scent, and as I entered the room I turned to look at Derek with a raised eyebrow. Stiles slid through the doorway obliviously, not sparing either of us a glance and moving straight to his desk chair to boot up his computer. I stepped back until the back of my knees touched the bed and sat down on it, keeping my eyes on the beta werewolf in front of me.

"Hey Stiles!" the Sheriff yelled from the top of the stairs.

"Yo D-Derek?!" he spun around, gaping at the raven haired wolf standing in his bedroom. His eyes snapped to mine, looking for answers. I shrugged and with a wince he leapt from the chair, moving to the doorway and poking his head through so that his dad wouldn't get a look at Derek.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I hissed under my breath, so quietly only Derek's enhanced hearing could pick it up.

"None of your business," he whispered back.

I rolled my eyes. "Mature," I grumbled, half listening to the conversation on the other side of the door.

"Did I hear someone else come in with you?" John asked suspiciously, and I slid to my feet, flashing my teeth at Derek before pasting a small smile on my face and appearing in the gap in the doorway.

"Afternoon Sheriff," I greeted him politely, leaning against the wood.

"Juliet," he replied kindly. "What're you doing here?"

"History project," Stiles interjected, apparently worrying I wouldn't be able to lie. "She's my partner. Not my partner, I mean my partner in history. The class."

We both shot him confused looks, not quite sure what he was on about.

"She's a huge history buff, so she's helping me study," he continued awkwardly. I nodded along, continuing the lie.

"Okay, well, I was just telling Stiles that I have to head out," he began, looking between us with cautious eyes. "Can I trust you two home alone?"

"Of course, Sir," I said, pasting on my most charming smile. He watched us for several more long seconds before nodding and turning around, shooting us one one final weird look over his shoulder as he made his way down the stairs. I slipped back into the room, crossing my arms and waiting for Stiles to follow.

The moment he was inside Derek grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and slammed him none-too-gently up against the back of his closed door. The boy jumped, glancing over at me with wide eyes, heart pounding in his chest. "If you say one word..." Derek threatened.

"Like what? Hey dad, Derek Hale's in my room, bring your gun?" he replied sarcastically, making Derek scowl. "Yeah, that's right. If I'm harbouring your fugitive ass, it's my house; my rules, buddy."

I refused to be impressed by the guts he displayed, but couldn't help the amused smirk that found its way onto my face. Derek was silent for a beat, before nodding reluctantly. He let go of the boy, stepping back and straightening his askew clothes. Stiles huffed a laugh, copying the action.

He moved to step around him, and Derek flinched forwards, making Stiles gasp and stumble back. "Oh my God," he grunted, hand held to his racing heart. I chuckled, moving back and standing beside the bed, considering for a moment before shrugging and letting myself fall back down onto the covers. I noticed for the first time how comfortable Stiles' bed was, way better than my old thing.

"Scott didn't get the necklace?" Derek asked, arms crossed, staring stonily at Stiles.

"No, he's still working on it. But there's something else we can try. The night we were trapped at the school, Scott sent a text to Allison asking her to meet him there."

"So?"

"So it wasn't Scott."

"Well can you find out who sent it?"

"No, not me, but I think I know somebody who can," Stiles said, and Derek turned around to look at me expectantly. Stiles followed his gaze before letting out a dry laugh. "Her? Please," he chuckled, shaking his head, ignoring my frown. "She can barely turn a phone on, let alone trace a text. Seriously, for someone so old you'd think she'd be better with technology."

"Technology has only been around for a fraction of the time I've existed," I defended myself pettily. "I've spent more years writing letters than the entire time the phone has been around."

Stiles threw a smirk at me over his shoulder, unfazed by my irritated and somewhat defensive tone.


"You want me to do what?"'

"Trace a text."

"I came here to do lab work. That's what lab partners do."

"And we will, once you trace the text."

"And what makes you think I know how?"

"I looked up your arrest report," Stiles admitted with minimal shame and my lips twitched from where I reclined on his bed, idly flipping through some old music magazine.

"I was thirteen," Danny defended himself. "They dropped the charges. No, we're doing lab work."

"Oh my-" Stiles cussed under his breath, spinning around in his chair to stare at me expectantly. "Jules, would you please?"

I glanced up from the glossy pages of the magazine, fixing my cool stare on Danny. He met my eyes and I immediately flattened my gaze in a way that should have instantly drawn him in. He merely frowned in confusion and I huffed, eyes darting to the familiar little broach pinned onto his jacket. "Cool broach, Danny," I said obviously, and Stiles groaned in defeat, realising what I was pointing out. "Allison give it to you?"

He looked down at the offending accessory. "Uh, yeah?"

"Cool," I said with a fake smile, immediately dropping it when I turned back to the magazine.

Danny looked completely confused as he sat down in the chair beside Stiles. "Who is he again?" he asked the energised boy, looking back at Derek who sat creepily in the corner.

"My cousin, Miguel."

"My boyfriend, Tanner."

There was an awkward silence after both Stiles and I had spoken at the same time. Danny's eyes narrowed suspiciously, looking between us as Derek looked up in annoyance. "Which one is it?" Danny asked, strong brow furrowed.

"He-he's my cousin and Juliet's boyfriend," Stiles spoke up, a hint of desperation and something like disgust in his tone.

"But is his name Miguel or Tanner?" Danny asked, still unsure what to make of the whole thing.

"Miguel Tanner," I supplied with an easy smile, turning to look at Derek with a smirk. "Isn't that right, baby?" His glare intensified, and I got the feeling he was trying to set me on fire with his mind.

"...Is that blood on his shirt?"

"Yeah, well he gets these horrible nose bleeds," Stiles excused, and I had to admit it wasn't the worst excuse I'd ever heard. "Hey Miguel, I thought I told you you could borrow one of my shirts."

Derek slammed the encyclopaedia he was reading shut passive-aggressively, sliding to his feet. I watched, only half interested as the man slid his bloodstained shirt off. Instantly I sat up straighter, watching the way the muscles in his back moved under his skin as he looked for another shirt. He may have been a disgusting werewolf, and I may have been an undead vampire, but I was still a woman and he was still a man, and damn was he a fine one.

"I mean so anyway, we both know you have the skills to trace that text so..."

"Stiles," Derek spoke up quietly.

"Yes?"

"This no fit."

"Then try something else on."

He turned back to the chest of drawers, and I couldn't help myself as I rolled over onto my stomach, getting closer to the shirtless wolf and his fine abs. I smirked, kicking my feet in the air as I watched him root around for another shirt.

"He isn't a piece of meat, you know," Stiles snapped after a long moment, face twisted in disgust as he looked between Derek and I. I didn't dignify that with a response, instead continuing to watch Derek shamelessly. "Hey, that one looks pretty good, huh?" he suddenly asked enthusiastically, and I raised an eyebrow at his words, eyeing the hideous piece of fabric stretched over the man's muscles. "What do you think Danny?"

"Huh?"

"The shirt."

"It's not really his colour," Danny said awkwardly, and I instantly picked up on what Stiles was doing. Derek scowled but stripped off the ugly shirt anyway, sorting through the contents of the drawer for a more suitable one.

"You swing for a different team but you still play ball, don't you Danny-boy?"

"You're a horrible person."

"I know it keeps me awake at night," he muttered uncaringly, watching Danny with intense eyes. "Anyway, about that text..."

"Stiles," Derek snapped angrily from his place in the corner. "None of these fit."

We all looked at him, and a predatory smirk spread across my lips. "Might just be better for you to go without," I said with a deep sigh, biting my lip at him teasingly. He shot me a disgusted look, muttering something about a walking corpse under his breath.

"I'll need the ISP, the phone number and the exact time of the text," Danny spoke up, and Stiles pumped his fist in the air in celebration.

"Thank you man, seriously," he said with a shit-eating grin as he handed over the requested information.

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbled back, focused on the task at hand. "Are any of you going to tell me exactly why I'm doing this?"

There was a heavy silence as we all considered his query. "It's in your best interest if you don't ask questions," I finally said, deciding honesty was probably the easiest option. Plus, I knew how much Stiles despised secrets.

"But I just want to know-"

"No."

"But I-"

"Nuh-uh."

"Can't you just-"

"Nope."

Danny let out a frustrated sigh but seemed to get the message, stopping his questioning. "There, the text was sent from a computer," he finally divulged after a long few minutes of tense silence. "This one," he confirmed, pointing at the screen.

"Registered to that account name?" Derek asked incredulously, and I frowned, leaning around him to get a peek at the words displayed.

"No, no, no, no," Stiles muttered anxiously. "That can't be right."

There, in clear, red writing was one name. One none of us expected.

Melissa McCall.


"Look, if you see my dad can you tell him I'll be there, I'll just be a little bit late, okay?"

Scott agreed and the boy hung up, sighing heavily as he pocketed his phone. "You're not gonna make it," Derek deadpanned, staring at him with a raised brow.

"I know," he groaned, rubbing his palms into his eyes.

"You didn't tell him about his mom, either."

"Not until we find out the truth."

It was a kind thing to do, I personally probably wouldn't have thought twice about telling the boy what we'd found. But Stiles was always thinking about other people and their best interests, it was just who he was.

"By the way, one more thing."

"Yeah?"

Derek grabbed the back of Stiles' head and slammed it into the steering wheel, making the boy yelp in pain, grabbing his no doubt aching head. I was surprised when I didn't find his pain immediately hilarious, instead a cold anger churning in my gut at the werewolf.

"What the hell was that?!" he shouted, wincing as he held his skull.

"You know what that was for."

I slid from the backseat, appearing beside Stiles' door and cracking it open, reaching in to grab the boy's hand and help him from the car.

"Don't screw up," Derek grunted, and I flipped him off just before I let the door slam shut. I let go of Stiles' hand, shoving them into the pockets of my trench coat and leading the way into the hospital.

The automatic doors slid open as I approached, and I waited just inside for Stiles to catch up. He was still rubbing his sore head, an agitated frown on his face. I turned around as he stepped over the threshold, pausing when I didn't instantly see the room flooded with nurses and patients. "Something's wrong," I said quietly, not wanting to break the eery silence that covered the ward like a blanket. I stepped closer to Stiles, nodding for him to follow me. "Stay close to me. Don't wander off."

"You got it," he replied just as softly, frowning worriedly at the empty front desk.

We did a loop of the floor, not a single person in sight. "Call Derek," I said as we made out way back through the long term care unit. He didn't question me, fishing out his phone and dialling the beta wolf waiting in the Jeep.

"We can't find her," he said the moment Derek answered.

"What?"

"I said we can't find her."

"Look, ask for Jennifer. She's been looking after my uncle."

"Yeah, well he's not here either," Stiles said as he stepped into the room, checking it out as I continued to stare out into the empty all, my skin prickling warningly.

"What?"

"He's not here, he's gone."

"Guys, get out of there right now," Derek yelled through the line. "It's him, he's the alpha. Get out!"

I felt eyes on the back of my head and whipped around so fast it would have given a human whiplash. A man was standing at the corner, an ugly smirk twisted across his burned face. I snapped a hand out, grasping Stiles' arm and yanking him from the room, forcing him behind me, angling my body so he was mostly blocked from sight.

"You must be Stiles," the man said quietly, intelligent eyes focused on what he could see of the boy from behind me. "Which would make you Juliet, correct?"

"Stiles," I said carefully, never taking my eyes off the alpha for a second as I reached back, pushing my hand against the kid's chest. "Run."

He'd barely turned around before another voice spoke up. "What are you doing here?" a woman asked in a creepily calm tone. "Visiting hours are over."

The man stepped forwards, a predatory smirk on his unattractive face. "You-? And him-" Stiles stuttered, heart racing in his chest. "You're the one who-and he's the...oh my God, I'm gonna die..."

"Stiles, it's going to be okay," I said, refusing to let surprise flash on my face when his hand found mine, holding onto it like a lifeline. I heard footsteps running towards us from a hall over and knew instinctively that it was Derek. A beta and a vampire against an alpha. We would have the advantage. My priority though was to get Stiles to safety.

Derek burst into the room, ramming his elbow into the nurse's face, sending her crashing to the floor.

"That's not nice," the man's uncle crooned. "She's my nurse."

"She's the psychotic bitch helping you kill people." He glared even more intently at his relative, barely looking away to say to Stiles, "get out of the way."

"Oh man," he moaned in despair, dropping to the floor and sliding out of the way. It wasn't until he got too far that I realised he'd yet to let go of my hand. He tugged me after him desperately, but I wrenched my hand from his grip, stepping once again so I was in front of him, ready to protect him at any cost.

"You think I killed Laura on purpose?" the alpha began, striding forwards, stepping around me like I wasn't even there, focused on his nephew. "My own family?"

Derek's eyes glowed a brilliant blue as he snarled at him, leaping forward to attack. "Stiles, desk, now," I hissed, reaching down to grab his arms, staring at him straight on, conveying how deadly serious I was.

"Not without you," he said with wide eyes, and I didn't have it in me to find it cute. Instead I growled and shoved him towards the safety of the desks, watching him slide across the floor. He was too far away to stop me as I moved forwards, landing a punch to the alpha's gut. He grunted softly but otherwise didn't react. I'd forgotten how tough it was fighting an alpha when they had so much strength on me. He turned around, snapping out his wrist and slapping me across the face. The blow split my lip and I felt blood trickle down my chin as I slumped against the wall. I growled, wishing I'd fed at all recently, I was nowhere near at my strongest.

"My mind," he began, grabbing Derek by the throat and dragging him down the hall as I recovered from the hit. "My personality, were literally burned out of me. I was being driven by pure instinct."

"You want forgiveness?" Derek asked once he'd let him go, leaping to his feet and slamming his fist into his cheek. I stood up straight, flashing to their side and slamming my own fist into his spine.

He barely flinched, turning around and landing another blow to my jaw. I took it like a champ, barely hissing as I recovered, kicking out my leg to land a kick to his side, but he grabbed my knee, using my own momentum to slam my into the ground. I heard something snap, as well as a cracking noise as my skull hit the hard floor.

My vision blurred and suddenly it sounded like I was hearing everything from under water. It continued for a moment, and I realised something myst have happened to my spine, because I couldn't feel anything below my chest. Funnily enough my last thought before blacking out wasn't that I hoped the alpha wouldn't finish me off while I was unconscious, but that more than anything I hoped Stiles would be okay, that he would survive this. Because if anybody deserved to, it was him.

When I came to the first thing I felt was someone squeezing my hand. I looked around wildly but the only thing I saw was black, that's when I realised my eyes were still shut. It took quite a bit of effort, but eventually I got my eyelids to cooperate and I blinked them open, staring at the harsh fluorescent light directly above me.

"Juliet?" Stiles' familiar voice asked in my ear, and I looked to the side to see him kneeling over my head, worry and fear splashed across his face. "Juliet!"

"Stiles?" I croaked, wincing as I tried to sit up. He helped me up immediately, slipping an arm around my shoulders, taking most of me weight for me.

"Holy crap, Jules!" he gasped, squeezing me tightly, heart thumping wildly against his chest. "I thought you were dead." I refrained from commenting that technically I was dead, and instead awkwardly slid to my feet. "You didn't have a heartbeat and you weren't breathing and I thought..."

I raised a hand to my aching neck, rolling it and frowning as I felt the last of the healing process work it's magic. "Feed," I grunted, grimacing as I realised I sounded like a fucking caveman. "I need to feed."

"Yeah," he said, not seeming fazed in the slightest by my words. "Where do they keep the A Positive around here?" he tried to joke, though the sound fell flat, his heart still racing, making him slightly short of breath.

"I smell some," I said quietly, turning around and walking down the hall. "This way."

He followed me, hovering close to my back like he was sure I was going to collapse or something. I shoved open the doors to a treatment room, spotting a bag of blood hanging from the drip pole. I stumbled forwards, all but tearing it from the metal stand. I bit into it, spitting out the mouthful of plastic to the ground. "Jules," Stiles muttered from a few feet away. "Your eyes."

Immediately I spun around so my back was facing him, hiding my true form as I emptied the contents of the bag into my mouth. I bit back a blissful moan at the taste, sucking until every last drop was gone. Once I was content, I dropped the bag to the floor, running a hand over my lips to collect any spilt drops and waiting for my fangs to retreat before turning around to look at Stiles meekly.

I felt ashamed in a way, that he'd seen me like that. It was borderline embarrassing. I brushed my hair back from my face, eyes on a scuff mark on the floor, unable to meet his gaze. "Derek left with Peter," he said after a long minute, hands shoved into his pockets.

Immediately I got over whatever the fuck was wrong with me, gaze snapping up to meet his. "He what?"

If there was one thing this town was teaching me, it was to never trust a werewolf. Especially a Hale.