A/N: I've had some comments about the title of this story, assuming it has some kind of meaning that works with the plot – it does, but not in the way you assume. Currently I have no plans of taking Juliet or Stiles out of Beacon Hills, it's called I Know Places after the Taylor Swift song that I kind of consider the theme song of the story. If you haven't heard it before, I definitely recommend giving it a listen – I'm sure you'll be able to see what I mean.

I'm glad you guys are enjoying the story and where I'm taking it, the next few chapters were an absolute bitch to write – writing someone without humanity is hard. I'm still on the fence about continuing after this season or not, once I've made up my mind I'll let you all know.


Your dead eyes before mine.

The way they're missing their whites,

Yeah, they're just right.

I know you're dead inside

And that's what I like

But when you float above my body,

Standing up right above me,

I don't feel so lonely

Darling, don't be so shy,

I'll see you at midnight

And when I close my eyes.

I said it three times,

You make my world spin,

Placebo feelings.

I know you're dead inside,

But you make me feel alive.

Mirrors - PVRIS


The hours blurred together. There was the thrashing of music, the slick movement of sweaty bodies rubbing against each other and the stench of alcohol so strong it made my eyes burn.

I revelled in it.

It was dark in the club, nobody able to see more than a few feet in front of them, the perfect space for a recently desensitised vampire to run amok in. I lost count of the people I played with, it was all moans and rubbing and snarls and broken skin coated with dripping blood.

There was no kissing, but I didn't dwell on that.

I was able to let go with ease, forgetting about the human/mystery-monster boyfriend waiting back uptown, hopefully causing as much mayhem as I was. Eventually I got bored of the club scene – I was going to have to get used to getting bored more often, as I remembered it.

I had swiped an armful of liquor from behind the bar, before I swaggered home in the light from the rising sun, keen to cause trouble from within the confines of my own home while the sun was out.

"Do you like that, baby?" the gravelly voice of one of the boys under my control murmured, looking up at me from where he was nuzzled between my breasts, eyes alight with compelled lust.

"Go dance with a stripper," I told him with a growl of my own, and he didn't look put out, instead his lips curling into an eager grin as he stumbled away from me, towards the trio of women dancing in the space between my couch and coffee table.

"Come join us, Juliet!" the blonde one begged, her voice irritating, but the smell of her sweat and arousal completely intoxicating.

In a blink I was beside her, and she threw her arms around my neck, her bare chest pressing up against my thin tank-top as she ground into my hips with her own. My nose roamed the soft expanse of her throat, and as she moaned I basked in the total and complete control I had over her in that moment.

Before my fangs could so much as brush her skin, there was a loud banging at my front door.

I was content to ignore the irritating intrusion, but it happened again, a familiar voice accompanying it. "Jules!" Scott McCall shouted over the sound of a pounding bass and thrashing guitar solo. "Juliet!" he shouted in his alpha-growl, and feeling entirely inconvenienced, I pulled away from the girl, appearing at the door and pulling it open, undeterred to find not only Scott on my doorstep, but little miss Lydia Martin too.

"Hm," I purred as I leaned drunkenly against the doorframe, a content smile on my slowly-numbing face. "Come to join the party?"

They were silent, taking in my smeared lipstick, dishevelled hair and lack of pants. "What the hell is going on?" Lydia demanded shrilly, staring at me like I'd grown a second head.

"A good time," I responded with a reactive sneer. "Until you showed up."

"Are you having a party?!" Scott demanded, eyes wide with disbelief.

"I can understand your confusion since you've probably never been invited to one," I murmured back. His eyes only widened, and I giggled hysterically, the sound wild and unhinged. "Come on, big bad wolf," I goaded with an eye roll. "Would it kill you to lighten up?"

Scott, always the most composed of us all, seemed to snap at my words. "Stiles has been missing all night," he yelled, irate. "And you've been having a party?!" he was furious, and above all, confused. "He's in the hospital, Jules."

I thought back to the Not-Stiles I'd met with on the roof; clearly everything was going according to plan.

"Is he alive?" I asked flatly, already knowing the answer.

Scott floundered for a beat. "...yes?"

"Then why do I care?"

Scott was flabbergasted, jaw opening and closing like a fish. Lydia stared at me, intelligent eyes calculating; knowing her, she was probably figuring it all out. Good for bloody her.

"Either come inside, have a drink and take off your pants, or go away and quit being such stuck up nuisances."

The two friends were annoyingly silent on the other side of the door, no idea how to reply. Lydia reached out, delicate hand wrapping around Scott's bicep. "Scott," she said quietly, tugging on his arm gently. "Let's go."

"No," Scott snapped, but it was obviously directed at me and not her. "What's going on? Why are you acting this way? Why don't you seem to care?"

I smiled calmly, completely unaffected, though the expression was cold, void of all warmth. "Because I don't," I sneered at the oblivious wolf.

"Scott," Lydia said again, an edge to her sweet tone. "We need to leave."

"That's right," I goaded, waving them away with my hand. "Run along."

Scott's nostrils flared, but Lydia's heart was racing, and she backed away, forcing Scott to move with her.

"Don't come back until someone yanks those sticks out of your asses!" I yelled after them cheerily, shooting them a large, hollow smile before allowing the door to slam after me as I headed back through to the living room, where my little toys were still writhing together, a tangle of sweaty, heaving limbs.

They cooed happily once they saw me return, and I melted back into them with a pleased smirk, losing myself in the bashing of the music and the taste of glorious fresh blood as it pooled onto my waiting tongue.

It was bliss.


The sound of a phone ringing woke me from my slumber. I opened my eyes to stare at the ceiling, letting it ring for a long minute before I reached out blindly to pick it up, staring at the name on the screen for a moment before I tapped the green button and held it to my ear.

"Hello, lover," I answered the call slyly, the smirk on my lips obvious in my voice. I glanced out the window, it was dark again; I'd partied away the day.

"Jules?" Stiles sounded shaky, and once upon a time it would have alarmed me, but as I paused to allow the worry to appear, I realised it wasn't going to.

"What's wrong, baby?" I asked innocently, my tone about as condescending as it could possibly get. I knew this was a possibility – Stiles returning – I could only hope it was temporary. Of course, I could sense the power from Void, he'd be back, I was sure of it.

He paused a moment, thrown off by my unusual term of endearment. "Are you okay?" he finally asked, unsure.

"Well, I'm not the one in hospital, now am I?"

I could tell he felt uncomfortable by my overly-innocent, haughty tone. "Where are you?" he asked me gently after a heavy breath. "What have you been doing?"

"Oh, you know," I replied vaguely, sitting up from where I'd passed out on the couch and getting to my feet, stepping over the unconscious, bloodied bodies littering my living room floor. "This and that."

He sucked in another shaky breath, and I waited for the feelings to hit me, but again, none did. "They wanna run some tests," he murmured weakly. "I was hoping you'd...be here...?"

He sounded insecure and feeble, two things I detested in a partner. The first feeling of the day hit me, a flare of lust and longing. I ached for the strong voice Void had had. I craved the way his eyes were dead but his smirk was so alive. I desired the same unloving passion and content satisfaction we'd experienced together only mere nights ago.

"Are you there?" I asked before I could stop myself, knowing Void would know what I meant if he was listening.

"What?" Stiles was confused by my words, no sign of Void anywhere in his tone. Disappointment settled in my stomach like lead, but the sudden emotion coursed straight through to hunger as quickly as it had appeared.

"Shame," I muttered unfeelingly, idly nudging one stripper with my foot, tilting my head to see if she was dead. Her heartbeat was faint, but definitely still there.

"Jules, what's going on?" Stiles sounded scared, but I felt no sympathy, only irritation. I was always looking after these children – like some kind of twisted, undead mother-figure.

"I'll be seeing you soon, I'm sure," I told him quietly, staring off into the dark of my kitchen, mind already on who to have for dinner.

"Jul-"

I hung up before I had to listen to any more – I wasn't in the mood.

I kicked the body on the ground with enough force to crack a rib, and the girl jerked awake. "Hello brown-eyes," I murmured with a hungry smirk, reaching down to wrap my fingers around her thin, bruised throat.

Blood flooded my eyes, the veins on my cheeks turning a deathly, inky black as my fangs slid into view. She tried to scream, but only managed to get a second of sound out before I tightened my hand enough to cut off the shout. She choked, hands reaching up weakly to desperately claw at my clenched knuckles as her face began to turn a beautiful shade of red.

"Hm," I purred lowly, satisfaction mingling with hunger as I peered at her, tilting my head to watch her closer, enjoying the way the blood vessels in her eyes burst, turning the whites to a bloody red much like my own. "Stunning," I complimented, yanking her close enough to me to press my lips to her purple ones for a brief beat before letting go of her neck to tilt up her chin and sink my fangs into her throat, cutting off everything she was doing in an attempt to get away from me, her body turning limp in my capable grip.

She dropped to the floor when I was done, nothing but an empty shell with tear tracks smudging her perfectly applied makeup and a throat torn to shreds.

I hummed in contentment, reaching up to wipe the blood off my lips before stepping over her and moving on to the next girl, kicking her hard enough to force her awake. "Dance," I ordered her flatly, so full of power that I didn't even have to look into her eyes to compel her. I kicked one of the other unconscious boys. "Wake the others and dance," I snapped again, letting them get to work as I lazily turned the music back on, some kind of modern rock filling the room as the humans began to exhaustedly move to the beat.

It was fun to a degree, sure, but it was also boring, being nothing I hadn't done a thousand times before. Not even a lap dance from the stunning brunette with tits that wouldn't quit could pull me from my funk. I downed another mouthful of vodka, the taste bitter on my tongue, waiting for the hours to tick by.

I contemplated going out, or even leaving town and maybe finding Klaus or – Lord help me – Kol, I was sure they'd enjoy having the old me back. I knew why I couldn't leave though, and the reason itself appeared at my front door halfway through the night, an expression that was both blank and smirking on his gorgeous face.

I instantly knew it wasn't before-Stiles, this one's heart was beating too slowly, his eyes too dead.

"Well, well," I sang impishly, an altogether different kind of hunger appearing low in my stomach. "Look who decided to make an appearance."

"Miss me?" Void asked slyly, victory in his smirk.

"You have no idea," I replied quickly, and he didn't wait for me to move before brushing past me, heading inside my dark house where music echoed off the walls like shouts.

"I see you've been busy," he told me as he came to a stop in my living room, eyeing the dancing humans and corpse on the floor.

"I was bored," I pouted at him as I passed, blinking up at him with wide, dark eyes.

"Hm, I know the feeling," he murmured, wandering listlessly over to the table covered in liquor bottles and picking one at random, tipping it back into his mouth without so much as a wince. "You're quite the messy eater."

"What can I say?" I responded coyly. "I like to play with my food."

He sat down on the stained couch, throwing his arms over the sides and peering at the the dancers with interest. "This decade is...quite marvellous," he commented with clear glee, watching the girls' breasts jiggle from within their lacy lingerie.

Deciding I didn't feel like denying myself the simple pleasures, I strode forwards with confidence, quickly and efficiently settling myself over his hips, winding my arms around his neck and tugging harshly at his hair. I sniffed at his neck, inhaling his decaying and dangerous scent.

"What are you thinking?" he asked, sounding bored as his fingers curled around my sharp hipbones.

"About how your blood would taste," I answered him without reservation, my voice a purr. I couldn't see his face, but I knew he was smirking. He was dangerous, I could feel it emanating from him like a heat. I was intoxicated by the feel of it, pressing against him and moving to slant my lips over his.

His kiss was bruising in the most wonderful way, but it wasn't what I was used to from his vessel. Stiles' kisses were more hesitant, bursting with affection and reverence, making me feel loved – worshiped even.

Void kissed me like he wanted to inhabit me, but as though he loathed me in the same moment. It was rough in a way I'd been secretly craving, but I'd be lying if I didn't admit there was a small, tiny part of me that longed for the loving pecks I would exchange with my human.

Almost as though sensing my thoughts, Void's hands slid to my ass, gripping me tightly and grinding my pelvis into his violently, absolutely no love in the action. The wave of lust I felt was enough to have me forgetting my longing for Stiles, instead filled with a burning desire for Void, whoever, or whatever, he was.

I didn't love him – I wasn't capable of that any more – but I was obsessed with him in the worst possible way. I wanted to own him, completely take him over in a way I hadn't since I'd been with Klaus. Void was like me; unhinged, damaged, demented. It was nice not to be alone any more. Besides, Stiles was still there, he was just buried. And, after all, after so many years on this planet, I knew it was more than possible to be infatuated (if not in love) with more than one person at once.

He said he was still Stiles, just finally sunk down to my level.

Nothing had ever been so hot.

I broke away with a manic giggle, the sound chilling to even myself, though I couldn't have cared. Void was silent, and I made it my own personal goal to make him moan as I ground into him again. He made no noise, reaching up to rip my tank top off my body, freeing my chest and making the humans behind us cheer in tired excitement.

I giggled again, drunk on lust, tugging harder at his hair, gritting my teeth together as I rocked our hips together.

"So tell me," I began conversationally, my hips never pausing their movement, but deciding now was as good of a time as any to get my answers. "What are you?"

He smirked widely, and I bit my lip innocently as I stared back at him, hands leaving his hair to trail down to his stomach where I began to bunch up his shirt, slowly and deliberately pulling it over his head.

"That's the question, isn't it?" he responded coyly, merely watching me with dark, intelligent, mischievous eyes. "Why don't you try and guess?"

Deciding to play his silly little game, I sank further into him, letting just a hint of my fangs show as I sneered at him playfully, making him smirk wider. "Well, you're capable of total possession, so that crosses out most of the usual suspects," I mused, his steady gaze giving absolutely nothing away. "I'd put my money on a spirit of some kind...perhaps a poltergeist?" I paused a moment, though my hips continued their assault. "No," I murmured, somehow instantly knowing it was wrong. "More likely..."

I hesitated, observing him closely, taking in every clue I'd been given so far, trying to figure him out. There was one possibility, one I was hoping was correct.

"...a fox."

His smirk broadened as my nails pressed into his pale skin, leaving long red scratches down his chest, though he only seemed to enjoy the sensation.

"You're a kitsune," I murmured, my interest peaking.

"Actually, Nogitsune is the correct term."

"Hm," I purred quietly, leaning into him and jerking my hips sharply, a movement that would have made before-Stiles gasp, but Void merely stared back evenly. "Feeds on strife, chaos, tragedy and pain," I listed thoughtfully, an eager, hungry smirk appearing on my lips.

"You're a vampire lacking humanity," he responded smoothly, his near-black eyes meeting my own dark green ones, craving for something in his intense gaze. "It's practically like looking in a mirror."

We were silent, continuing to rock with each other, slowly but surely getting rougher with each jerk of our hips. "You feel like sharing your evil plan yet?" I asked, hoping I would catch him while he was distracted enough to give in.

His hand cupped the back of my neck, and with a rough tug I was forced onto my back, finding myself under him as he reached down to wrap his fingers around my throat. The feeling excited me, and I moaned, pushing my chest up against his as he squeezed. "Don't talk," he instructed me in a snap, and though usually I didn't like being told what to do, something about the way he said it made a dagger of desire pierce through my gut.

Instead I giggled, the sound choked as it struggled to get around his tightening grip. He swooped down again, once more layering his lips over mine in a bruising kiss that was all teeth and tongue, not an ounce of tenderness to be found.

My underwear were torn from my body in a move that made me gasp when his fingers brushed my most sensitive spot before sweeping back up my body to grasp roughly at my breast.

It was coarse and boarding on violent. He slipped inside me with barely a grunt, fingers digging into my skin hard enough to leave temporary prints, like something traced in breath on a window. I moaned at the feeling of being so entirely filled.

Void's hand tightened around my neck to stop the sounds, and though I didn't need air to survive, the action still made me feel lightheaded.

It was clear this wasn't about my pleasure, nor was it about his.

He was proving he owned me.

His thrusts were rough and random, alternating between fast and slow, constantly keeping me on the edge. My lips opened to gasp his name, but I stopped short of letting it escape – what was I going to call him?

Stiles? Or Void?

And, more to the point, which one did I want?

"You're mine," he growled in my ear possessively, slamming his hips down again, hitting a spot within me that made me mewl in a way I would never admit to.

I liked this, it was rough and dangerous and unhinged, everything the 'soulless' me wanted in a sex life. Maybe he was right, maybe I was born to be a follower, because in that moment I would have done anything he'd asked of me.

I was enamoured with him, or perhaps the idea of him.

Either way, he was a mind-blowing fuck.

He came with a hiss, stilling within me for a long, drawn out moment as I clenched around him as though my body was trying to keep him connected to me in the most intimate way possible.

Finally, after an endless minute that somehow wasn't long enough, he pulled out of me and zipped himself back up, leaning back against the couch, leaving me laying naked and exposed on the cushion beside him.

"Clean yourself up," he said emotionlessly, jerking his chin in the direction of the stairs.

His indifferent attitude left me feeling oddly cold, but I brushed the moment away and disappeared up to the second floor, deciding I needed a nice hot shower and a coat of blood red lipstick to make myself feel better.

But my thoughts didn't drift far from the man downstairs. The music drifting up the stairs changed to something darker, grungy and heavy, and I could hear one of my compelled sluts moaning.

One emotion that wasn't cut out with the switch was, unfortunately, jealousy.

I growled under my breath, applying the thick coat of lipstick and smacking my lips together to distract myself, running a hand down the part of my stomach my shirt exposed, down to my cut-off shorts, the material rough against my skin.

"Having fun, are we?" I asked loudly as I announced my presence downstairs, though I would have been willing to bet he'd already known I was there. He certainly moved quickly.

The jealousy was apparent, if not in my voice, then most certainly in my eyes. He smirked from where he was leaning against a wall, a half-naked blonde girl batting her false two-dollar lashes at him prettily.

I hated her. In that moment I knew I had never loathed something so much. Void said nothing, continuing to smirk at the whore.

I seethed from where I stood, stomping loudly and deliberately towards the girl draped over the fox, grasping her by the arm and ripping her away from him, watching as he raised his eyebrows – not quite in surprise, more in intrigue.

My fangs slid forwards and into her throat in one fluid motion. I didn't bother savouring the taste or to make sure I got every drop – I was biting to kill, not to feed.

She dropped to the floor, life leaving her eyes as blood bubbled from the massive bite mark at her carotid, dribbling across the smooth expanse of her chest, down over her breasts before landing on the floor in a large, messy, steadily growing puddle.

"Now, was that really necessary?" Void asked me amusedly, smirk going from the corpse to me, making me feel much better.

"I don't like people touching my things," I responded curtly, reaching up to wipe at my chin, glancing down at my finger to see it coated in red. "Look what you made me do," I pouted, flipping my hair as I turned away and headed through to the kitchen. The group of partiers had ceased their terrible grinding at the death of their blonde companion. "Dance!" I snapped at them with bloody eyes, and they blinked as one before once more bobbing in time to the music.

I wiped off the blood from around my mouth and jaw, glancing down at my shirt, glad I hadn't stained it – I didn't want to have to get changed again.

"I need you to pick a few things up for me," Void spoke from the doorway, having moved without me hearing him. To my credit, I didn't jump. I turned around and raised a calm eyebrow.

"And you can't do it because..."

"Because the sheriff has this face tacked to every bulletin board and shop window in the town," he responded snidely, a look of disgust on his stolen features. "So be a good little girl and go get me my supplies."

He reached out a hand, passing me a lengthy list written on a piece of scrap paper, the words most definitely not written in Stiles' handwriting. Instead, these letters were sharp, carved out with an anger and hatred that surpassed the capabilities of a human.

"I'll do it," I relented with a glare. "But not because you told me to."

He smiled, the expression mocking rather than fond. "Soul or no soul, you never change."

"Go fuck yourself."

"Why would I need to, what with you right here with me?"

I glared at him, the anger in it bordering on passion, before he reached out, slapped my ass and waved me away like I was a dog.

I snarled one last time before shoving my feet into the first shoes I saw and storming out the door, list crumpled in my hand, both enjoying and hating the treatment.

Asshole.


Void was fun.

Okay, not exactly fun – he was evil, but in many ways that was basically the same thing.

He, if anything, encouraged me to have all the fun I wanted, he seemed pleased when I drowned out the numbness with alcohol and blood, and I loved it.

A giggle left my lips, the sound unhinged and deranged, though I cared little. The music was loud, I'd had to compel away a pair of deputies when they came knocking, but I couldn't have cared less – it made no difference to me.

"Are alcohol and strippers your only hobbies?" Void asked from where he was standing in the doorway, one foot in the kitchen where he'd been tinkering away at whatever he'd been creating on the table, the other pointed in my direction, attention on me, bottle of whiskey in one hand, a stripper's waist in my other.

He didn't sound reprimanding, instead vaguely entertained with an amused smirk sitting on his pale, familiar lips.

"All I ever need, baby," I responded cheekily, batting off the stripper's wandering hands, not in the mood to be groped.

"Then what're all these books for?" he asked, reaching out to tug one off the shelf, glancing disinterestedly at the cover before tossing it carelessly into the crackling fire. It was a test, I was completely aware he just wanted to get a reaction from me, though I was slightly surprised when none came.

Humanity-having Juliet would have been aghast at the action, but as I waited for a rise to grow within me the seconds dragged on and I felt nothing.

I smirked impishly at Void. "They make good kindling, huh?" I said with a sneer and a wag of my eyebrows, and though he was clearly irritated by my calm demeanour, he said nothing, turning away and striding back into the kitchen, once more sinking into his work. "Y'know, it wouldn't kill you to let loose for a minute," I called back to him, not totally sure what his hearing capabilities were in comparison to mine.

"There're things to do, Juliet," he yelled back. "Work that needs doing!"

In a sudden and unpleasant flash I was reminded how starkly different Void and his human vessel were. "Chaos to cause?" I added, violently forcing the thoughts from my mind.

He didn't respond, the sound to crunching metal meeting my ears before I got distracted by the tits in my face, pushed together by a brilliant little purple bra that instantly made me hungry.

It wasn't until the dancer stopped struggling that I finally pulled my lips from her breasts. It wasn't my favourite place to feed from taste-wise, but it was certainly the sexiest.

Growing bored now that my hunger was satiated, I shoved her from my lap, taking another swig from my whiskey and padding into the kitchen. "Let's go out," I murmured in my most whiny tone, slinking across to the box he was filling with nails, peeking inside with raised eyebrows. Another giggle pealed from my throat. "You naughty boy," I sang, leaning down closer, his button-up draped over my shoulders brushing the cool skin of his exposed arm. "Who is this meant for?"

"Spoilers," he tutted distractedly, fiddling with some wiring before placing a lid on the box and sealing it shut.

"Oh, come on," I pouted dramatically.

He looked thoughtful for a moment, before humming and sitting back, eyeing me contemplatively. "Well, I suppose I do need somebody to deliver it," he mused. "And better yet – a courier with the power of persuasion."

"See," I purred. "I can be useful."

"Had enough alcohol and strippers?"

"Never, but what's the old saying? Absence makes the heart grow fonder?"

"That only applies to people capable of love."

I giggled, the words amusing me.

"Now, onto other business," he said, turning in the chair to fix me with a stern look. "Are you prepared to act like nothing's wrong?"

I blinked. "Nothing is wrong."

He looked irritated by my words, but didn't comment on it. "Let me rephrase," he said with a sneer. "Act like you still have a soul."

I pouted again, "What will I get out of it?"

"The pleasure of seeing my plan unfold." I didn't say anything, carefully considering his words. "I feed off pain and mayhem, you were exist to create pain and mayhem."

I smiled wickedly. "Is this your way of telling me we're a match made in heaven?" I asked impishly, but his lips barely twitched in response.

"Hell, more like it," he told me quickly, and I couldn't have stopped the smirk from spreading across my face if I'd tried.

"You're not wrong."

"Glad we're in agreement," he said with a leer, carefully lifting the box and depositing it into my hands. "Now, be a good girl and deliver this to the Sheriff's station for me."

His words made me pause, a stab of something like panic appearing in my chest. The foreign sensation was gone before I could process it, my body no longer knowing how to process those kinds of emotions. "The Sheriff's station?" I asked in a purr, dragging one finger over the wrapping of the package.

"Don't ask questions," Void snapped, a deadly glare in his eyes that, needless to say, excited me.

"Admit it," I pressed cheekily. "You like me."

He was silent for a beat, black eyes considering me closely. "Less me and more Stiles," he spat the name like it tasted bad on his skilful tongue.

If my heart wasn't already unbeating, it would have frozen in my chest. "He's there?"

Void grimaced. "Locked away," he answered succinctly. "But some traits leak, such as his weakness for you," he spat the word like it too burned on his tongue, which I could definitely understand.

Something warm brewed in my stomach, and for a breathless second I considered that it may have been hope. Without thinking about it, I reached for it, desperately trying to wrap myself around it and let it sink into my skin – but it slipped through my fingers like water from a tap, escaping my grasp and leaving me feeling cold and hollow.

I straightened my shoulders and tilted my chin up, reprimanding my subconscious, telling myself it didn't matter, and I had more important things to be focused on.

And just like that all emotion was wiped from me, instead I felt but a cool absence of feeling, unless you counted the incessant hunger clawing at my insides.

"Still," I said, forcing a sly smirk to my lips. "You said we made a good team."

Stiles would have rolled his eyes, but Void merely sent me a flat, lifeless look.

"Don't worry," I murmured, slipping closer, lifting one hand from the bomb in my grip to pat his chest, "I know you're dead inside." I shifted closer, leaning close enough to nip at the shell of his ear. "And that's what I like."

I pulled away before he could react, meeting his harsh eyes without flinching and tilting my head innocently.

"I'll deliver this to the station," I told him as I blinked my dark green eyes. "Anything else you'd like me to grab while I'm out, honey?"

He sneered, the expression cold and filled with irritation. "Actually – if you wouldn't mind," he said the words with barely concealed amusement. We both knew it wasn't going to be a request. "You could steal an emitter from Papa-Argent's supply."

I paused. "You want to attract wolves?" I asked, trying to understand.

He continued without explaining. "Then bring it back to me and be prepared to get ready to go to school."

"School?" I spat incredulously.

"Ah, ah, ah," he tutted, wagging a finger in my face, a mischievous smirk flickering at his stolen lips. "No questions, no complaints. That's how this works, remember?"

I felt a growl begin to vibrate in my chest, but I kept it from escaping my lips, biting into the flesh of my tongue aggressively.

"I'll see you soon," he said, a painfully clear dismissal.

I sneered back, holding the bomb closer to my body and turning away, floating from the room and carelessly stepping over the bodies littering the floor of my living room.

"Actually!" he called, making me stop at the front door. "I'll get the emitter," he amended casually. "There's something I need to do over there anyway."

"Whatever floats your boat," I responded carelessly, throwing the words over my shoulder, not in the mood to wait for a reply before I left the house.

I took the back roads to the police station, holding the package in a way that screamed 'casual' rather than 'suspicious'. As I walked, I contemplated my behaviour.

Why was I doing everything I was told? The answer was easy I supposed – I was enamoured with Void. The bastard had crawled his way under my skin with the added help of being in my human boyfriend's body.

I didn't want to admit to myself that I knew tearing myself away from Void meant tearing myself away from the only connection to Stiles that I had left.

I shouldn't have cared – I wasn't capable of caring, but the knowledge sat uncomfortably in the back of my mind, a lingering thread that refused to snap.

I forced the unpleasant thoughts from my mind, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other, making my way to the station. Nobody gave me a second look as I slid into the building – though that may have been because of the early hour and lack of human presence – coming to a stop at the front desk.

A young, good looking deputy sat behind the desk, typing away at a keyboard, eyes locked onto a computer screen. He looked up when I entered, and there was no trace of recognition in his eyes – probably because he was new.

"Can I help you?" he asked politely, adjusting the radio on his shoulder and quirking his lips up into a welcoming smile.

"I'm just dropping off this package for John," I said casually, easily forcing a bright smile onto my lips that was a thousand parts fake and zero parts real.

"Oh, you know the Sheriff?" he asked pleasantly.

"Yup," I responded simply, carefully putting the box onto the counter, meeting the deputy's gaze. "But don't tell him who you got it from," I ordered, watching as his pupils dilated until his eyes were practically only black, the compulsion working as it always did. He was silent, staring up at me, until he blinked and the black was gone.

My brow furrowed, that shouldn't have been possible.

"Why not?" he asked suspiciously, and I realised it hadn't worked. Not at all.

Why the fuck not?

"He'll know it's from me once he opens it," I lied on the spot, an innocent and happy (and completely false) smile appearing on my face. "I want it to be a surprise."

He eyed me closely, and I could see him putting the pieces together in his mind. "You wouldn't happen to be Juliet Cooper, would you? The Sheriff's son's girlfriend?"

I was irritated but knew I had to keep my cool now that compulsion was out of the question. "You caught me," I said, the smile on my face turning sad. "With Stiles...not here...I put together care packages for the Sheriff." I leaned forwards, whispering consiprationally, "He's on a bit of a forced health-kick."

The deputy – 'Parrish' I realised with a glance at his name tag – smiled, buying into my words with all the ease of a bee finding flowers. "I'll make sure he gets it," he assured me with a grin. "Shouldn't you be getting ready for school?"

"On my way now, officer," I responded cheerily, and he smiled one final time before I slipped from the warm air of the station and out into the misty grey of the early morning, the expression melting from my face like ice in the sunlight.

I sneered even though nobody was around to see it, huffing as I filed what I had just learned away for later, deciding that this 'Parrish' fellow didn't rate high enough on my priority list to be worth spending time on.

I had bigger things to focus me attention on.


A/N: I dunno if anyone's a PVRIS fan, but I used one of the lyrics from the song in this chapter as dialogue. If you caught it, I applaud you.

Please give me some feedback on how I'm writing Juliet 'soulless'. I need to know if it's working for if I need to change tactics.

Talk to me guys – I love you all, and I swear I don't bite.