I wish I knew what it was like

To care enough to carry on

I wish I knew what it was like

To find a place where I belong, but

I am machine

I never sleep

I keep my eyes wide open

A part of me

Wishes I could just feel something

I never sleep

Until I fix what's broken

A part of me

Wishes I could just feel something

I Am Machine – Three Days Grace


The sun beat down on my exposed skin like the flames of a fire. I touched my fingers to the heavy, spelled ring sitting on my finger, the only thing between me and certain death. I was getting antsy, and it had only been twelve hours since Stiles and the others had left.

The moment they'd driven away, I'd felt like somebody had carved out my heart with a dull knife, placed it in Stiles' lap and forced me to watch as they took it with them, disappearing into the desert.

Those were my friends, quite possibly the only real ones I'd ever had. The only ones I wanted, at any rate. I missed them – and perhaps my actions weren't as unforgivable to them as they were to me. I knew I'd forever regret it if I didn't find out.

Besides, I couldn't go another month without hearing Stiles' voice as he said my name.

I'd left the town a few hours after with Braeden, the woman deciding to give up and come to try another time, preferably in daylight. I agreed, then it was a long and strangely intimate ride back to the Calaveras' hideout, where she dropped me off outside and wandered in to complete her business with the stern lady hunter who ran the place.

Now I was stationed in the alley it had all began in, leaned up against the wall, an eye on the door across the courtyard, silent and waiting for something to happen. I was sure I was going to slowly go insane. There was no way I could sit there any longer, especially without knowing exactly what it was that I was looking for.

I was seriously considering ditching, getting the hell outta dodge and making a break for Beacon Hills; the only thing stopping me was fear.

If Klaus found out I hadn't held up my end of the deal, he'd stalk me down out of pettiness and drive a stake through my heart with a smile. So, although agitated and impatient, I waited and waited, leaned up against the wall and puffing on the cigar I'd swindled out of a passing local.

I was weighing my options, ultimately deciding that I liked my head attached to my body enough to put up with it and stay, when my phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled my lips from the cigar, frowning in confusion while my heart leapt with hope as I yanked it from my shorts. The only person who had rung me since leaving Beacon Hills had been Stiles, and I hoped more than anything it was him.

Unfortunately the screen proclaimed it was an unknown number, and though I was wary it would be somebody trying to sell me something, I answered it anyway, a grimace at home on my lips. "Yes?" I snapped into the phone, impatient before they'd even begun.

"Is that any way to greet an old friend?" Klaus' lilting voice asked through the phone, and I grimaced more severely. I said nothing, remaining silent and waiting for him to tell me what the fuck it was he wanted this time. "How is it going down there?" he asked sweetly, his accent smooth and familiar.

"Brilliant," I replied with the utmost sarcasm, my own accent giving way as I registered his. "Just sitting in an alleyway, smoking a cigar and doing absolutely fucking nothing but stare at a doorway."

"Well, I have good news and bad news."

Wary, I paused. "Out with it, then," I finally murmured, my shoulders tense, my stolen cigar hanging from my fingertips, forgotten.

"The good news is that the surveillance is over, and I only need one small thing from you before you can run along back to your precious little human pet," he drawled casually.

"And what's the bad news?" I prompted, ignoring his jab.

"The bad news is that you'll be lucky to survive the task I'm about to give you." I was silent, teeth grinding together unhappily. "Interested?" he questioned, and I could hear the stupid fucking smirk in his voice.

I snorted, the sound derisive. "Do I have a choice?" I asked bitterly.

"Absolutely none whatsoever," he told me cheerfully.

"Then I'd be delighted," I ground out through a clenched jaw, glaring out into the street so ferociously that a passing pedestrian gave a strangled yelp of fear.

"Wonderful," Klaus was still smirking, I could tell, and I wished we were in the same county so I could smack that bloody irritating expression off his bloody irritating face.

"What's the job?" I asked quickly, wanting to get the task over and done with and be back on my way to Beacon Hills. Maybe what I longed to have with Stiles was an impossibility, and while being around him without being with him was probably going to be the worst kind of torture – it was the kind I craved.

"I want you to sneak into the holding cell in the back of the Calaveras' compound; there, they're holding an acquaintance of mine captive."

"You want me instigate a prison break?" I asked, deadpan.

"No," he sounded less than pleased by my deduction. "I want you to find him, kill him, empty his pockets and hold onto the contents until I drop by to pick them up."

I blinked in surprise, saying nothing for a long moment. "You want me to kill a guy?" I hissed, spinning around so I was facing the dirty wall, glaring at the concrete like it had somehow wronged me. "That was not part of the deal."

"It was in the fine print," he said, merely a metaphor, considering there was no print at all to speak of.

"You can't expect me to-"

"This is exactly what I expect you to do," he spoke darkly, his voice taking on a low, powerful quality that made my skin tingle, and not in the fun way. "He's only a vampire, anyway," he added callously. "Does it even count as murder if the victim is already dead?"

"Yes," I bit out, and Klaus chuckled on the other end of the line. I sighed, reaching up to rub at my brow where I was beginning to feel an ache. I wished I had options, but the truth was that I didn't. I didn't have a choice, it was kill or be killed – however indirect. "Who's the mark?" I finally asked, muscles coiled like I was preparing for a strike.

"Splendid," Klaus chirped, like he were commenting on the state of my rose bushes. "His name hardly matters, just look for the guy without a heartbeat."

"Who knows how many vamps they have stashed back there for safe keeping?" I hissed back, glancing over my shoulder at the door where the two stocky fellows stood guard, scanning the crowd with beady eyes.

"He's got long red hair and a bear tooth necklace," the Original Hybrid sounded irritated that he had to specify. "Couldn't possibly miss him."

"How old?"

"Would you like me to come and hold your hand while you do it?" he asked sarcastically, and I ground my teeth together in frustration. "Just get it done."

"And what am I looking for on his person?" I questioned, ignoring his jab once more and focusing on the task.

"It's a small rock of lapis lazuli."

"Lapis lazuli?" I repeated, instinctively glancing down at my daylight ring, running my thumb over the glittering blue stone. The only use I could think of for the expensive stone was the rings that kept our kind from burning in the sun. But surely he could source others, why on Earth would he need this particular one? And why did he need to kill to get it?

"Don't ask questions," he snapped severely, and I got the feeling poking around for clues would be dangerous to my wellbeing.

I turned, eyeing the door again, remembering how well it had gone last time I'd tried to force my way in. "How do you propose I handle this?" I asked, tilting my head as I assessed the situation. "This place is like Fort Knox for paranoid racists."

"That's your problem," he told me shortly, and I exhaled in frustration at how little help he was. He chuckled, the sound anything but comforting. "So, what do you say, Juliet Adams?" he asked through a delicate sneer. "Are you in the mood for suicide mission?"

I bit down into the flesh of my tongue, glancing up at the sky where the sun was beginning to climb it's way towards the top of the sky. The sooner I got it done, the sooner I could get the hell outta dodge.

"I'll call you when it's done."

With that I hung up, trying not to panic over the fact that I had just hung up on an Original, pocketing my phone and turning to lean against the wall, assessing my options for entry. I could enter through the front, guns (or fangs) blazing; this would result in a very high death toll, myself most likely included.

No, this operation needed stealth.

As much as I hated to admit it, the Calaveras were smart, they'd see right through whatever shitty disguise I pulled together – besides, they wouldn't be careless enough to feed me an invitation under any circumstances.

I dropped the long since forgotten cigar to the ground, stomping on it with my foot before turning and shedding my jacket, not wanting the crinkling material to give me away.

The compound was large, incredibly so. It spread to several buildings, but it was easy to tell which were included, the stench of blood drifted from each one like a morbid beacon dragging me in. I wondered if it was done that way to attract my kind, it was certainly a clever concept.

Like I said: smart.

I listened intently, absently considering that I definitely should have fed before attempting such a feat, but ultimately deciding against refuelling. My priority was getting in and out. I needed stealth, not strength. Once I located the building with the least inhabitants, I knew I'd found my in.

A small man stood guarding the back door, a beanie sitting haphazardly on his head and a gun that looked too big for his skinny little arms to handle in his grip.

I pondered my approach, ultimately decided force was the way to go.

He was young and thin, and he seemed distracted by the cloud formations above us as I appeared behind him, slipping one arm around him and yanking him backwards so he was abruptly pressed against the wall, my arms trapping him like a cage.

He gasped, giving out a startled yelp.

"What-what're you d-doing?" the poor bloke stuttered in accented English, gun laying uselessly in his hand as he blinked up at me with terrified brown eyes. I'd picked the single weakest guy in the whole of the Calaveras camp – somebody above must have been helping me out.

"I've positioned us so, to everybody passing by, we look like nothing but a pair of enraptured lovers stealing a moment to ourselves," I purred in his ear. He shuddered, and I knew my scent was intoxicating, making him want to eat me, though perhaps not quite in the same way I wanted to eat him.

I flashed my true eyes, fear and dread appearing in his gaze as he sucked in a sharp breath.

"What do you w-want?" he stammered, heart slamming against his ribcage so violently I wondered whether there was a chance of cardiac arrest. Blood pumped through his jugular, I could see it surging under the skin. Partly to satisfy my urges and partly to terrify the poor sod, I leant in, brushing my nose against his thumping pulse point.

His heartbeat kicked up.

"I want a lot of things," I told him casually, letting my tongue dart out to swipe at his salty skin. He whimpered, flinching away from me in terror. "I want a car of my own," I murmured conversationally, reaching in to nip at his jugular, taking extra care not to break the skin. "I want all the blood I could possibly drink delivered to my front door." He flinched violently, throwing himself against my arms locked around him like a cage. "I want to throw my ex boyfriend against a wall and have my way with him until he can't do anything but scream my name," I added impishly, finally pulling back and meeting the kid's gaze, noting that he was wincing as sweat dripped down his chocolate skin into his muddy eyes. "But most of all? I want you to tell me where they're keeping the prisoners."

He groaned, the sound petrified.

"Come on," I nudged him enticingly. "I'm not asking for much," I breathed teasingly. "I'll make it worth your while..." I trailed off suggestively, staring into his eyes with my full power of persuasion, all the while knowing the vervain in his system would prevent my trick from working.

The poor guy swallowed, trying to inch away from me again. "I-I can't..." he mumbled unconvincingly, fear still glinting in his eyes.

I exhaled sharply, displeased. "Okay kid," I said harshly, reaching out and grabbing his gun, ripping it from his hands with laughable ease, listening as he whimpered. "But when this all turns to shit, remember that I tried to do things the fun way," I said, and he looked about ready to burst into tears.

I tossed the gun onto the dusty ground, and it landed with a thump a good few feet away, well out of his reach. My hand snapped up, fingers curling around his throat in an all too familiar way. The kid whimpered, terrified out of his mind. I felt a flash of guilt, but I couldn't let myself fall into that – I had a debt to square.

"Tell me where the prisoners are kept, and I'll let you live; refuse me, and I'll storm the place with you as a human shield. Something tells me your trigger-happy friends in there won't hesitate to shoot through you in an attempt to get to me."

I had, of course, no intention of harming him. He was human, and young, and relatively innocent. I was here to kill one person and one person only; besides, it was a vampire, it wasn't like there was anyway he was going to be innocent.

The young hunter groaned again, eyes beginning to turn red from the grip I had on his throat. I felt a flare of hunger as I felt his pulse beat under my hand, but I suppressed the urge, telling myself he'd be full of vervain anyway – I'd get a chance to feed later, once I was on my way back to Beacon Hills.

"Where do they keep the prisoners?" I asked slowly, annunciating my words carefully, tightening my hold for a beat before relaxing it enough to let him speak.

"Building four," he choked out, tears in his terrified eyes.

Impatient, I tightened my hold again. "And how do I get to buildingfour?" I asked sharply, glancing over my shoulder and scanning the area, glad we were around the back, only a few people milling about, none of them blinking an eye at the display of violence happening before them. Being so close to the Calaveras' hideout, they probably saw this kind of thing all the time.

"Behind me," he coughed, reaching up to try to pull at my hand desperately, and not wanting to give the guy brain damage, I relaxed my hold slightly. "Through, then-then to the left. Behind," he broke off with a gasp for breath, "behind the door on the right."

"Thank you, sweetie," I murmured, relinquishing my hold on his neck. He sucked in air, his heart hammering away in his chest. "Sorry about this," I added, and his eyes flew open wide in fear. Without blinking I grasped the lapels of his shirt, slamming him into the concrete wall behind him. His head connected with a satisfying crack and he fell to the floor, unconscious but very much alive.

I glanced over my shoulder, checking again that nobody was paying any attention before I reached over and turned to handle to the door. It cracked open with a tiny groan, and cautiously I pushed a hand against the barrier, relieved when my fingers passed through with ease.

The buildings were separate, but all connected with makeshift halls. There was an equal chance of whether or not I'd have been able to get in – after all, I'd gotten the invitation from that psychopathic she-devil the other day, but it was in another area of the compound.

Thankfully the stars were in my favour, and with a satisfied smirk I stepped into the dark hallway, letting the door click shut behind me as my eyes seamlessly adjusted to the low light.

There wasn't anybody in the area but a few guards a hall or so over, so it was relatively simple to creep through the halls unnoticed. I spied a few security cameras along the way, so I kept myself sharp, prepared to fight my way out should reinforcements come charging down the hall.

Like the kid had said, I turned left, making my way through the compound. It was almost too easy, but I wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. I was just grateful I was still breathing as I tried the door to the right as told.

It opened up into a room, much like that of a police precinct, with four cells sitting along the far wall. Two were occupied, one by a creature I placed as a djinn, the other a vampire with red hair and a heavy, ostentatious bear tooth necklace sitting around his neck.

"Who're you?" the other person in the room, a guard, snapped. He held his gun up warily.

"I'm here for the prisoner," I said in an attempt to hoodwink him, but something about my answer had him lifting his gun and aiming it at my chest.

"Stay back," he barked, reaching for his old-fashioned radio with his free hand. I was impatient and not in the mood, so with him momentarily distracted by his device, I slipped one of my many daggers free from it's place at my hip, throwing it in a casual move. It cut through the air with a soft tinging sound, a beat later landing in the guy's hand, piercing through his palm. He cried out in agony as he fired his gun.

The bullets landed in my stomach, but they weren't wooden, so it was relatively painless. They slowed me down some, but I was still able to make it to him, yanking the weapon from his grasp and slamming the butt of the gun into his chin, knocking him unconscious.

The djinn snarled at me, coming up to the bars but not touching them, staring at me through catlike eyes.

The vampire was clapping politely, like a one might do after a spectacular opera performance. "Very impressive," the guy purred, but I ignored him as I reached down to the unconscious guard, rifling over him person, looking for a set of keys. I found them attached to him belt, and was quick to leap up to the bars, sliding the keys into the lock, trying to find the right one. "Come to spring me?" he asked, and I noticed he had an Australian accent.

"Something like that," I murmured, not meeting his eyes as I listened intently out to the hall, waiting for the sound of those reinforcements that I had no doubt were on their way. The bullets lodged in my abdomen were beginning to ache, the feeling uncomfortable as I worked, but I could do nothing but ignore it.

Finally I got the right key, and as I pressed a hand to the metal bars to open them, the contact sent agony through my skin.

"Yeah," the Australian vampire murmured through an ugly smirk. "They're coated in vervain." I said nothing, stepping fully inside the cell, leaving the door cracked open. "Why're you doing this?"

"I need something from you," I told him flatly.

"What might that be?" he questioned innocently, but there was spark in his eyes that told me he knew exactly what I was there for.

"Hand it over," I demanded, holding out a hand. The vampire crossed him arms casually.

"Why would I do that?" he asked lightly.

"Because it just might be the only way either of us get out of this alive," I lied with ease.

He grinned, revealing a series of missing teeth, which was odd – I'd never met a vampire with missing teeth before. "Sorry, darl'," he said silkily. "Ya gonna have to kill me for it."

The sound of heavy footfalls met my ears, and with a grimace I realised the cavalry was on their way. The ginger vampire's head cocked to the side, and I knew he'd heard what I had.

"Help me fight my way out of here, and I'll let you live," I promised him, not sure if that was even something I could actually follow through with.

"Why should I trust you?" he asked, and I began to get desperate, the hunters now only a corridor away.

"Because your only other choice is death," I said, chin tilted up as I waited. He ginned again, a mischievous glint to his eyes.

The door burst open, and his smile widened. "Can't argue with that," he leered, before darting around me and throwing himself at one of the three hunters that had spilled into the room.

I wasted no time, throwing an elbow into the face of an older man, his hair grey and thin. He cried out but recovered quickly, producing a stake from his belt. "Fucking hell," I cursed, realising this wasn't going to be as much of a walk in the park as I'd hoped.

I ducked under the hunter's lunge, landing a punch to his stomach hard enough to severely bruise his liver. He grunted in pain, swinging at me again. The sharp end of the stake grazed my arm, the wood like fire as it sliced through my skin. I hissed, grabbing the stake from his hand in a move too quick for him to see and slamming it down on his head. It didn't knock him unconscious as I'd hoped, but he was momentarily dazed by the blow.

I'd forgotten about the third guy, and he grabbed me around the middle, yanking me off his buddy and pressing the barrel of a gun to my temple. That wasn't going to kill me, but it would sure as hell hurt. Yanking free one of my many daggers, I twisted in his grip faster than he could pull the trigger, slicing him clean across the face.

I could have killed him easily, but Scott's words from earlier resonated in my head.

Would you kill half a dozen people to get out?

He'd asked the question with disgust, and at the time it had meant little, but now I was suddenly pushed into Kate Argent's exact position. My only option seemed to be murder, how the hell else was I meant to make it out alive?

The sounds of the other vampire fighting filled my ears, and in the moment I was dangerously distracted, the hunter I was attacking had fired his gun. This time it was a wooden bullet, and it pierced my shoulder. I cried out in pain, whirling around to slam my fist into his cheek. The sound of cracking bone filled the room, and I sneered with dark pleasure.

A scream suddenly filled the room, the sound cutting off in a wet gurgle, and I knew the other guard was being drained by my guiltless companion. I didn't look back, not even when my skin began to tingle and my throat burned with thirst. The smell was intoxicating, but I didn't let it distract me too much, focusing on slamming the heel of my hand into the hunter's nose, hearing it crunch with satisfaction.

He fell to the floor, grasping his broken appendage in agony, blood pouring from his face. I longed to dip my fingers in it, tasting the delicious liquid, but I was more focused on staying alive. There was another wet cry, and I whirled around to see the third and final hunter crumple to the ground, throat torn out, blood spilling from the bite mark in his jugular.

The redheaded vampire beamed, blood covering his face and clothes. "Shall we?" he asked, and I nodded, forcing myself not to breathe in an effort to keep control. He was fast as he ran, heading for the door. Feet hit the ground as reinforcements hurried to find us, but we didn't slow down, legging it to freedom.

He spilled out into the sun, only to cry out in agony, and I realised he didn't have a daylight ring. I gripped the collar of his shirt, darting across to the first building I saw and yanking him inside, out of the reach of the sun's rays.

Burn marks covered his face and arms, the skin beneath the thick coat of blood still smoking. I looked around, we appeared to be in some kind of abandoned house, which was lucky, because had it been inhabited, we would have been unable to enter.

"Fucking hell," the vampire coughed, giving a slightly hysterical laugh.

I could hear the Calaveras burst out into the street, and I knew our time was limited. "Give it to me," I snarled at him, slamming the smirking maniac up against the wall, the plaster beneath him cracking.

"If you insist, darling," he purred, leaning in for a kiss. His lips collided with mine, and I found I couldn't move, not even a little bit – but it had nothing to do with the kiss and everything to do with the blood coating his face.

My eyes slid shut and my tongue darted out, desperately licking the blood from his lips. The Australian groaned as though I was in any way reciprocating, and with a disgusted gag I threw him off of me, tossing him to the floor, where the cement fractured under the force.

"Don't fucking touch me," I hissed at him, throwing my boot into his side, sneering in satisfaction as his ribs cracked from the blow. He grunted, though was still grinning like a fucking maniac. "Give me the stone," I ordered him, licking my lips again, unable to help but clean off the remaining traces of the blood from my face. I swallowed it down, telling myself that that was it, I refused to have any more.

"What're you willing to do in return?" he asked cheekily, his accent lilting in a way that almost reminded me of Klaus.

"Not kill you," I snarled furiously.

He only grinned wider, holey mouth on display. "To be honest, love, I'd rather you killed me," he told me sincerely, and I had to blink in shock at the words. "We both know we only got a matter of minutes till they find us," he said, still grinning like we were talking about something hilarious and not our impending doom. "They're gonna cart me right back into that cell."

"You could run," I suggested, my fury and desperation wavering.

"Out into the sun?" he asked, chuckling like I'd made a joke.

"Give me the stone," I tried again, hearing the Calaveras begin to knock down doors from just down the street.

"Swore an oath not to hand it over to anyone," he told me cheerfully. "But, there's not much I can do about that if I'm dead, eh?"

I hesitated. "Are you asking me to kill you?" I questioned doubtfully. This hadn't been how I'd expected things to go at all.

"I'll beg if it'll convince you," he grinned from his place in the crater on the concrete, reclined like it were a couch. A door banged down only two buildings away from us, and a note of panic appeared in his eyes, the first emotion other than teasing jolliness that I'd seen. "C'mon, darling," he said with familiarity, like we'd known each other years instead of minutes. "Do me a favour. Besides, you need the stone, right? It's win win."

I didn't see it that way, but I wasn't about to argue.

The decision was tough one, but I didn't have time to ponder it, so, as always, I took the easy option. With a quick scan of the room I found a large wooden beam, and in an instant it was in my grip. I snapped it in two over my knee, tossing half over my shoulder and kneeling over the vampire's body.

"Are you sure?" I asked, unable to help myself.

"I'm ready," he assured me with an ugly, roguish smirk. "Ive had my last meal and everything," he added, gesturing to the blood coating his body.

The entrance next door was beaten down, and I knew we were out of time. It wasn't how I'd wanted things to go, but I told myself it was a mercy killing – the best kind of killing there was. "Rest in peace," I told him sincerely, and he gave one more holey grin before I thrust the stake through his still heart.

He gasped, head tipping back, eyes turning glassy as veins began to crawl over his skin like a morbid work of modern art. I grimaced, feeling oddly guilty, but with a start remembered I had a job to do.

My hands patted him down, running over his body, looking for any sign of the stone in question. After a span of six seconds that felt entirely too long, I located it, hidden deep in the pocket of his jacket. I fished it out, holding it up to the light, confirming it was indeed lapis lazuli.

The front door burst open with a loud crash, but I was already winding my way through the back, breaking a dusty window and escaping out into the sun, the rock sitting uncomfortably in my pocket.


It was easy enough to find a car to compel into my possession. I felt kind of bad that I was from some tourists, but my need was without a doubt greater than theirs.

It took about five hours to make it to Beacon Hills, driving without pause or break. I rang Klaus once I was far enough away that I'd felt like I'd mourned the fallen vampire to completion.

"It's done," I told the Original over the phone, my voice steady, my eyes glancing up at the sky, noting that it was about an hour until sunset, and by then I'd be well and truly in Beacon Hills. "I have your bloody stone and the vampire is dead."

"Splendid," Klaus chirped happily from the other end.

"What am I meant to do with it?" I asked quickly. If this thing was so valuable that it was worth killing over, I didn't want it on my person any longer than necessary.

"Hold onto it for me," he instructed, saying exactly what I didn't want to hear. I internally groaned, less than pleased. "Keep it safe, and once I or one of my associates come to collect it, your debt will be repaid."

The words were music to my ears, I couldn't wait until I was out from under the bastard's thumb.

"Do I correctly assume you're back on your way to Beacon Hills?"

"Yes," I told him reluctantly.

"Do try to keep yourself alive," he murmured saccharinely, "it would be awfully inconvenient if you died while in possession of my property."

"I'll do my best," I sneered back, deciding with a satisfied hum that the conversation was over, and I hung up the phone.

I tried not to think too much about what would happen when I got back in town. What was I expecting? I knew I wouldn't be able to slip into my old life as though nothing had happened – but I was sure as hell going to try. What else could I possibly do? Pretending like everything was normal seemed like the best option.

The town was still and quiet as I drove through, almost eerily so. My skin prickled, my acute senses knowing that something was terribly wrong. The route to my house was a long one that wound around the outside of the town, as such forcing me to drive by the school.

I was just passing the field when a horrifically familiar sight caught my eyes. It was the creature from the other night, heavy-footed and large, animal skull sitting over it's face like a macabre mask.

I knew they wouldn't be there for no reason – they were after someone, and I knew odds were, it was one of the pack.

"Goddammit," I cursed, slamming my foot on the brake and bringing my stolen car to a screeching halt. I barrelled from the vehicle, slamming the door with such force that the window shattered, but I cared little, turning and legging it after the creatures.

I was faster than it, and I wasn't about to try and fight it again, my only hope was to save whoever it was after. I sped up, darting around it as I followed the smell of shifters, the scents getting clearer and more familiar the closer I got.

Scott and Malia were running as fast as their legs could carry them, and I came to a stop in front of them, and they both gasped, freezing in the moonlight, eyes wide open in panic.

"Move," I barked, and after a shared glance of pure shock, they did as they were told, diving to the sides. The dagger I'd fished from my boot was sent flying, burying itself to the hilt in the thing's chest.

The creature didn't so much as flinch, continuing to stalk towards us like a predator approaching it's prey, confident there was no hope of it's escape.

"What the hell are these things?" I demanded through a snarl, and the pair of shifters could do nothing but shake their heads.

"Run," Scott commanded, reaching out and grasping ahold of my arm, yanking me after them. I kept my pace slow, keeping with them – I sure as hell wasn't about to leave them alone with this thing.

"Scott, there's both of them," Malia hissed in a panic. "They're both here." I spun around, noting that a second one had appeared, snarling ferociously from under it's grotesque mask.

"Where the hell's Peter?!" the alpha shouted wildly, backing up and nearly tripping when his ankles caught on the stairs. I grabbed him, keeping him upright.

"I don't know, he just took off!" Malia responded loudly, heart racing with fear. She turned, leading the way up the stairs. I spun around, taking them two at a time – surely our only hope was to run. We could never fight these things off ourselves.

The second one was quick, cutting us off with a low growl. We were trapped on the staircase, a creature at each side. I considered jumping – I might break a limb or two, but that would heal soon enough.

"Jules," Scott said under his breath. Like no time had passed at all, I suddenly understood exactly what he was trying to say. He wanted us to fight. I wanted to swear, but Scott was right – if we ran, we might never be able to stop. I groaned, but he knew it was a sound of frustrated acceptance. "Help Malia," he murmured nearly silently, and with a nod I attacked, Malia following me, her claws protruding from her fingertips as she slashed at the creature with reckless abandon.

She distracted it well enough, it's attention on her, and I used the opportunity to attack it myself. I leapt on it's back, locking my hands around it's throat. I thought that may have worked, but in an intelligent move it threw me back against the metal railing. I felt my spine pop as I dropped to the floor in agony. It kicked me, sending my sliding along the floor until I slammed into the lockers behind me with a grunt.

Malia appeared beside me a beat later, staring up at the things in terror. I sucked in a sharp breath that hurt like a bitch, slowly but surely feeling my spine begin to realign.

Scott slid up to us a moment later, peering up at the creatures, hopeless. Everyone seemed to want to join the party, as in the next moment, the katana wielding kitsune leapt over us with surprising grace, sliding to a stop and instantly tumbling into a series of practised moves, slicing her sword at the creatures, who barely flinched under the attack.

"Kira," Scott whispered, anxiety covering his face as his heart beat wildly in his chest, his fear for the girl apparent. Perhaps there was something more between them than I'd assumed, particularly when taking into account the embrace that lasted just a little bit too long back in the desert.

All thoughts of gossip were wiped from my mind as the kitsune was backhanded across the face in a move that was almost laughable casual, and she landed beside the concerned alpha, a grimace of defeat on her face.

That's it, we were completely and utterly done for. Goodbye cruel world.

I wasn't sure how I'd pictured my death, but getting torn out by a pair of unnamed monsters wearing animal skull masks didn't seem as noble as I would have liked.

All I knew was that unless someone did something, we were done for, because there was no way we could face these things alone. I glanced around, everybody seemed frozen with fear, like dear in the headlights. I knew what had to be done – I was the oldest, not to mention the fastest. If any of us needed to be the distraction, it was me.

Unsteadily I climbed to my feet, my back protesting as my spine was still out of whack, but I ignored it.

"Jules," Scott hissed from his place on the concrete, a note of panic in his voice.

"Hey," I barked at the creatures, ignoring Scott. They cocked their heads, beginning to inch closer and closer, their claws clacking as they brushed one another like grotesque instruments. "Come get me," I said, goading them before I disappeared, rematerialising behind them. "Yoo-hoo!" I called, and with guttural growls they spun around so they were facing me. I made eye contact with Scott, trying to tell him to run, but he and the others remained exactly where they were, watching on with horrified eyes, like witnesses of a train wreck, unable to look away. "What're a coupla assholes like you doing in a nice place like this?" I asked them through a cheeky sneer, and although I wasn't sure they even understood the jibe, they still attacked.

I was quick, ducking under the hit and throwing my weight at the side of the one on the left, much like I had done back in Mexico. I didn't manage to take it down, but it did stumble back a step. The other one was right there, slicing me in the thigh with one of it's monstrous claws.

"Prick," I cursed thoughtlessly, forced to my knees as blood began to pour down my leg. I hadn't fed recently enough, so I wasn't going to heal as fast as I would have liked. I threw out my elbow, clipping the thing as hard as I could between the legs, but it barely even flinched. I growled, the sound animalistic in an attempt to spook them, but they remained unmoved as ever.

Growing frustrated, I leapt up faster than human eyes could travel, grabbing hold of their massive shoulders and swinging up onto one of the things' backs. It instantly tried to shake me off, but I held on stubbornly, locking my legs around it as I struggled to get a good grip on it's head, prepared to snap it's neck without hesitation.

Only I didn't get that far. The other one was quick, thrusting it's hand out, claws glinting in the moonlight.

I felt the blow rather than saw it. Something had impaled me, cutting through the skin and organs of my abdomen, protruding out the other side like I were a kebab.

"Fuck," I swore, feeling blood trickle from my lips. That was gonna be a tough one to recover from.

I slid from the thing's back, crumpling to the ground, clutching my middle in an effort to keep my guts inside my body where they belonged.

"Ugh," I groaned, turning my head up to glare at the monsters defiantly, keeping a white-knuckled grip on my dignity even as blood dripped from my chin; for the first time, my own. They didn't move even though any sane creature would be finishing the job.

I realised why a moment later, a snarling werewolf barrelling into sight. He was small compared to the masked monsters, but he fought with the skill of someone trained, slicing at them with a ferocious abandon.

One hand remaining over my wound, I crawled out of the way, tossing myself up against the lockers, folded in on myself, trying to force myself to heal by will power alone. Where would I be able to find fresh human blood under these circumstances? Would one of the pack do a snack run to the hospital if I asked nicely enough? Or would they leave me stuck in the hallway of the high school to rot until I found a janitor to chew on? Something told me they weren't that heartless.

Everything seemed like kind of a blur, the fight happening before me barely even registered in my mind. It was just a vague haze of violence, and I could smell rotten blood as it wafted through the air, the stench nothing like that of a vampire, or even that of Void. This was different, this was literally death, like a corpse left to decompose in the trash, the worst kind of smell.

Finally the things began to run away, fleeing for one reason or another. "Derek?" Scott asked lowly, and I blinked my eyes, forcing them to refocus just enough to spot a fully-grown Derek Hale, standing in the moonlight, eyes a glittering, glowing amber.

Something about that was wrong, but I couldn't piece together what it was in my injured condition.

"Jules?" the alpha asked suddenly, attention moving from Derek to me. I attempted a weak smile, lifting a hand from my stomach and wriggling my fingers in something of a wave. "Are you okay?" he questioned hurriedly, rushing to my side, his voice dripping with concern. "What do you need?"

"Blood," I replied, barely stopping myself from rolling my eyes. Surely that should have been obvious? He hesitated, clearly torn on whether or not to help. Then, with a disgusted grimace, he held out a wrist for me to bite into. I laughed, the sound weak at best. "Human blood," I clarified with remarkable patience considering the rather large pool of blood accumulating beneath me.

Scott spun around, eyeing each person present with wide eyes. We had two werewolves, a kitsune and a were-coyote, none of which close enough to a human to be able to be of any help.

"Stiles," the alpha said suddenly, scrambling for his phone.

"No," I shook my head quickly, groaning when it made me feel nauseas. "Not Stiles."

"Jules, don't be ridiculous," he told me gently, brushing aside my words as though I wasn't in my right mind. "Stiles can help."

"How can Stiles help?"

The kid himself had arrived, bat slung over his shoulder as he jogged to meet us. I closed my eyes, not wanting to look him in the eyes, not sure I was ready to handle what I might see in them. "She needs blood," Scott said quickly, climbing to his feet.

Stiles' heart sped up in his chest, no doubt as he took in my collapsed form. "I'll be fine," I assured them. I could feel a dull heat in my stomach. Somehow, Lord only knows how, my skin was beginning to knit itself back together. It was slow going, but I pulled back my hand and opened my eyes, peering down as I watched it steadily begin to heal over. I could feel my insides still torn apart, but hopefully they would soon follow in the healing process. "See? I'm already healing," I said with forced cheer.

I was surprised when a hand appeared in my line of sight, following the arm it was attached to with my eyes, finding Malia on the other side, a grim expression on her face. Wary though thankful, I took the offered hand, allowing her to help me to my feet with a grunt of pain.

"You saved us," Kira said, a strange kind of respect in her voice, it made me kind of uncomfortable.

"Derek saved you," I corrected, my tone curt. I didn't want them getting any ideas, I wasn't some kind of hero. I was barely doing what I had to to get by, let alone everybody else.

"If you hadn't distracted them, who knows what they would have done?" Scott spoke up, stepping closer, his wolfish scent swimming around me like he were alight.

Thankfully the whole group wasn't focused on me. Lydia had moved over to Derek, talking with him in low voices, and Malia had distracted Kira with something or other. The only people paying me any attention were Scott and Stiles, the pair of them wearing contrasting expressions.

Scott looked thankful, relieved even, while Stiles had the strangest look on his face, an odd sort of glare, the look a mix of frustration and consternation.

"I was just buying us time," I finally replied, and Scott smiled gently, like I'd cracked a joke.

He shot a glance to Stiles over his shoulder, and the pair of brothers communicated silently. What they were saying I couldn't even begin to guess, but suddenly Scott reached out and cupped a hand over my shoulder, squeezing affectionately and tossing me a puppy-dog smile before turning and heading over to Kira with purpose.

That left me alone with Stiles, the one place I both ached and loathed to be. I said nothing, not even meeting his eyes and instead staring at the far wall, my teeth grit together like I were expecting his words to be a physical blow.

"You came back," he finally said, his voice quiet.

"Yes."

"Why?"

I wasn't sure how to answer that. For him, yes, but only because being away was too hard. It was time to keep a distance, and I didn't want him getting any ideas otherwise.

"This is my home now," I eventually answered, my voice flat and emotionless as I still didn't look at him. I didn't want to risk caving when I saw whatever it was in his eyes.

"So...you're back? For good?" he asked softly, sounding calm and neutral, though his heart was hammering away like a hummingbird's from beneath his ribs, giving him away. I didn't mention it.

"Yes," I said carefully, pressing a hand to my barely-healed wound, brushing a finger over the new skin. I longed to turn and look at him, run my eyes over the lines of his beautiful face once again, but I couldn't let myself. I just couldn't.

"Good," he said, voice flat and somewhat disappointed. I hoped it wasn't because of my answer, but I wasn't about to look and find out. "Do you need a ride home?" he asked me faintly, but I shook my head, eyes pinned resolutely on the far wall.

"I've got a ride," I told him, confused when his heart only continued to pound, never calming. Humans were odd, their bodies reacted in baffling ways.

I decided not to say goodbye, everyone was wrapped up talking to one another. I gave a nod in Scott's direction that I wasn't even totally sure he noticed, still holding a protective hand over my stomach as I turned and began to pad away.

Stiles let me go without a word, and I told myself I was being selfish by how much that hurt. It was my own fault. I did this. Nobody else. I was alone again, but I supposed that was just the way it was meant to be.


A/N: I've said it before, but I know things seem bleak now, and they may for a while – but things have to get worse before they can get better. Everyone's saying how much they hope Stiliet will be endgame, and I promise, the plans I have will make you very, very happy.

More to come soon, I've been writing like crazy lately! Can't wait to hear what you all think. Thanks for reading - until next time!