I want to say a quick sorry for not updating twice in a week like I promised, turns out school decided to start being a pain in the ass :(
Anyway this will probably be the last and only update of the week, nevertheless keep checking for updates throughout the week, but an update will definitely be up next Monday :) Read and Review!
It was useless. We spent two days looking for clues on a woman who didn't exist, or so it seemed. I was deflated and I could tell Stiles was feeling down too. We even had a pack meeting to discuss clues and what all of this could mean and no one found any traces of her. Something else that is never traced? The supernatural.
We all came to the conclusion last night, that we were dealing with someone of the supernatural species. In which me and the girls told the guys that we had found something called an Afreet, Scott seemed intrigued but Stiles, Issac, Derek and Liam weren't having it. If there was no information on it, it was likely it didn't exist. But it has to exist, other wise they wouldn't of came up with it. It wouldn't be in every Bestiary over Beacon Hills if it was all a lie.
So they convinced us to drop it, although I think Kira is still researching, as she hasn't got anything to be doing nowadays, Scott has her on a strict stress, panic and supernatural detox so she isn't stressed therefore making the baby stressed. But Kira knows that her stressing won't do any harm to the baby, she's a Kistune after all. She hasn't had a cold since the day she was born.
So we decided as a pack to go out, well only part of the pack. Liam and Hayden are caught up with College and Braedon and Derek have better ways to spend their days rather than hang out with a bunch of twenty-something-year-olds. So when I say 'pack' I only mean Stiles, Scott, Kira, Malia, Issac and I. We thought it be better getting out of the house if we were still going to investigate this woman. Even though we made an agreement to drop the whole 'Afreet' thing we still need to find this woman, or women.
"Baby, you ready?" Stiles asks, walking out of our bathroom, pulling his jacket on and calling me 'baby' as he always does when we get ready. Almost like a routine. I nod and spray my perfume onto my neck as Stiles waits by the door swirling his car keys around his index finger.
We decided to meet at a coffee shop, it's a normal setting for a normal group of adults. Normal. I don't know how exactly we plan to track down a woman who is literally untraceable. But I have hope, we always figure things out. When we arrive they're all they're waiting for us, someone ordered us a drink each.
Kira is looking as glowing as ever, her waist is rapidly expanding and it scares me to think how fast time is going. It literally feels like yesterday was their wedding. She makes pregnant seem so elegant. If that was me I'd look like a balloon.
"Hey, guys! You're here." Scott welcomes us, I greet everyone and sit down in a chair next to Stiles and Kira. The cafe is buzzing so we don't have to bother with hushed tones too much as everyone's chat and the beeping noise of the coffee machine going off covers our conversation about a suspected lady killer. Oh how normal we all are.
"So, what I was thinking," Malia starts off right away, not wasting time, swirling a finger around the rim of her cup as she speaks, "Is if these girls, these victims, are all linked because of an estate agent, surely you can perhaps talk to Liz about it?"
"Do you realize how crazy we'd sound?" Stiles exclaims, waving his hands around frantically. He's right, we'll sound nuts just asking her, besides if she does know something more that could get us into serious danger. Because knowing something you're not supposed to is dangerous. Like knowledge is a ticking time bomb.
"That's why you bring it up casually." Malia adds, Issac nods in agreement but everyone see's the risky side to that plan.
"Have you actually tried to speak to the families about it?" Scott asks, we both shake our heads. It sounds ridiculous that we haven't had chance to talk to them about it. They were their family after all, and this is a potential murder.
"So you, Stiles, Deputy Stilinski who has a flashy badge and whose dad is the Sheriff cannot question the murder victims family? I'm sorry doesn't sound very 'Law Enforcement ' to me." Issac rolls his eyes sarcastically. Scott hangs his head back dramatically at the bickering that will most likely commence after that comment. Kira and Malia share a knowing smile.
"Is it possible, Issac, for once in your life not be sarcastic and try to not make yourself look like a genius?" Stiles asks, leaning froward as if he's genuinely intrigued by the answer that will fall from Issac's lips.
"Well I clearly picked it up off of someone..." Issac says, he flashes Stiles a charming smile and Stiles rolls his eyes again at him. Making his eyelids flutter when he does so.
"So maybe you should go back over to France then so you can drop it..." Stiles jabs back at him, for a moment I get worried that it'll turn serious, but Issac smiles and flashes him his middle finger. I allow myself to smile at their banter.
"But in all seriousness what are we going to do?" Scott sighs, clearly distressed by this situation. I guess a little more than ever now because of Kira being pregnant.
"I guess we try to get as much information out of the families as possible..." I say, unsure of what Stiles will think. At the moment it seems like the only logically approach to take right now.
"What a success that will be." Stiles sighs, he takes a sip of his drink and places it back on the table. A quiet settling over us as we over-think the situation. We spend the next hour or two chatting, after planning on what we hope to find out after interviewing the family we chat about anything that isn't in our abnormal, crazy lives. Because what else are we supposed to do? Talk and plan some more until our anxieties, fears and worries take over us? That's not how we live now, we're adults.
I eat an Insalata Caprese salad, whilst everyone opts for a slice of fudge cake, which looks so rich in chocolate and flavor it makes my mouth water. But still I try my best to enjoy it. Stiles offers me a bite of his but I decline, sticking with the healthy option. I've always worried if I eat too much unhealthy crap like Stiles does I'll lose my flat stomach. Then I worry Stiles won't think I'm good enough for him. I know, I know that's stupid, especially if we ever have kids my body will change, but it still gnaws at my mind.
We finally leave, all agreeing to have a pack meeting soon to discuss further information. Me and Stiles climb into his jeep and head to another part of town to question the family members of Emily James.
The drive seems to stretch out long, as if prolonging us from knowing the bitter truth. I just hope we haven't come this way all for nothing, that would be disappointing.
"Lyds, you know if you feel danger you just-"
"Squeeze your hand. Got it." I nod at him, he smiles softly at me, then I reach a hand up to caress his face, and press a small, sweet kiss to his mouth, sealing it with a lick of his lower lip. We get out of the car and walk up towards the house of her parents. The house has a dingy look about it, like all the paint has been corroded away by rain and harsh weather conditions. The wood on the door splintered.
We knock, but instead of being greeted by a middle aged couple, they appear to be older. Maybe late sixties, possibly in their seventies. It's the man who answers the door, he's wrinkled but has a warm smile. The woman, his wife I assume, appears from behind him. She looks older than him, her eyes sunken with lines and wrinkles, her skin dotted with liver spots and she averages a smaller height than me. I lock eyes with her instantly, the icy blue bore into me and I shiver despite the afternoon sun.
"We're investigating the suicide of Emily James, I'm sorry we hoped to find her parents here." Stiles informs them, politely and formally. The man nods, but still I feel the woman's eyes on me, like she can see through my mind and tell what I'm thinking.
"We were her guardians. Her parents are dead." He tells us, his voice gruff and raw of emotion. My breath catches in my throat but, still try to act calm. Stiles scratches his ear and grimaces.
"Is it alright if we ask you a few questions?"He asks, flashing his badge so they know it was a statement, not a question. They both nod, then step aside. We walk into their house, which smells like soap, cooking and cats. Their house is out dated, the wallpaper yellow with flowers. The carpet plush with swirling patterns. It's enough to make you feel high on drugs. It doesn't make up for the outside.
They lead us through to their kitchen where I sit next to Stiles as he sets a notepad and pen out, the two elders sit opposite us.
"I hate to be rude, but- uh- what should we call you?" Stiles asks lightly, not wanting to offend them. They barely flinch at the words, just sort of give a slight nod in understanding.
"I'm Ronald, and this is Judy. Ronald and Judy Lewis." He nods at us, Stiles takes note in case he forgets.
"Mr and Mrs Lewis, we don't know if you're aware but we are treating Emily's death as a murder." Stiles tells them slowly, so they understand what they're hearing. The couple are tight lipped and nod stiffly, as if they knew but were being reminded. Or maybe they suspected it all along, and this was confirmation.
"We're aware someone from the department has already questioned you, and we hate to trouble you in your time of grief," He tells them softly, in a way to comfort them. The way he talks to me when I'm stressed. "We want to look further into the woman Emily was in contact with, you told us she was buying a house, to move out."
"We were wondering if you knew anything about her," I ask them, flicking through papers that lie in front of me on the table, to try and find the name, "Libby." I finally say when I find it, I look up and lock eyes with Mrs Lewis, her stare cold and making every hair on my back stand up. I blink and look away, still sensing her eyes on me. A weird unnerving feeling inching up my spine, curling around my throat. I think about squeezing Stiles' hand.
"I'm afraid she never-" Starts Mr Lewis, but his wife jumps up and yells at us.
"Get out! Get out, right now!" Her eyes are red and tears are making her cheeks shiny wet, her husband looks startled and grabs her arm, about to pull her back when she snatches it away and pushes back. She almost stumbles into the wall, making the chair tip up and almost clatter on the ground if it weren't for Mr Lewis holding it out on a straining arm.
"Excuse me, Miss. You need to calm down." I say sternly, jumping out of my seat and pointing a finger at her. She starts shaking with fury and it feels like I'm being forced to look at her, stare into her mind and soul. My heart races and my vision blurs.
"Get out of my house." She screams so loud the room shakes. The scream tears through me like a great shard of glass. My eyes widen and pulse quickens, my heart thudding like a rock rattling in a box. The scream was, piercing and desperate... Banshee.
She was a banshee.
The noise that rings out through my ears is horrible, deafening and only makes me think of one other banshee I've known. Meredith. The way she screamed in Eichen house, it made my blood run cold. My hands slam over my ears, trying to block out the scream.
I don't realize it until I feel Stiles' hands on me that I've fallen to the floor, trying to block out the racket she's making. I look up, opening my eyes that I hadn't realized I closed, my vision is blurred with tears and Mrs Lewis is still crying, Mr Lewis cradling her, whispering something into her ear. I slowly stand up, putting almost all of my weight on Stiles. He wears a look of disgust as he looks at the older woman.
Then I feel a warm sensation running down the side of my face, I reach a hand up to touch it, finding it streaming with black blood.
"Lyds, you okay?" Stiles asks, his hand finding my face and looking in concern and concentration at the blood, a hand rests on my waist. My ear has a ringing in it, and my head feels mounded with pressure.
I nod, and look back at Mrs Lewis. She's calmed down a lot but she looks at me funny still, like she knows I'm a banshee. And that this is a supernatural case.
"I'm awfully sorry she's-"
"A banshee." I finish for Mr Lewis, his face falls and he nods, "I know."
"We'll be on our way." Stiles tells them, I take a finally glance at Mrs Lewis, she doesn't meet my eye anymore but she holds my wrist tightly as I walk by, stopping me.
"Find it," She says, her voice cracked, I look at her questionably. "Find the solution." She tells me. My body almost turns to jelly but I manage to walk out of the door, head held as high as possible, and into Stiles' car where I finally let the tears fall. In confusion, fear and pain.
"Shh, shh, you're okay." Stiles whispers, he holds me tight to his chest as I sit on his lap. I let my tears soak his shirt and with one hand he rubs my back, the other massaging my scalp. "It's okay. Are you hurt?"
I pull back to look at him, bottom lip trembling, tears falling. I shake my head, but as I do so my head starts throbbing even more as well as my arm where she grabbed it.
"She was a banshee," I croak, "What if Emily was too?"
"We'll look into it, I promise. First thing tomorrow." He tells me, his voice gentle as he continues to stroke my hair. I hiccup and nod, feeling like a kid again, seeking comfort in someones warm, fuzzy arms. Like it's a safe haven, a camp base, home.
When I reach a hand up to cup his cheek, I notice my skin turning purple. The bitch bruised it. "She knew I was a banshee, I felt it after she screamed."
"Shh, c'mon." He whispers, still rubbing my back, pulling me into him again. I can tell he's thinking theories and facts behind his eyes and he's not sharing them because he doesn't want me worrying. Then it hits me. We're adults now, and still, still our lives are being determined by monsters.
"I can't, Stiles." I cry, "I just can't do this anymore." I wail into his neck, my hands gripping his jumper in rage. My mouth hangs open in a cry and my body burns up in anger.
"Baby, you can. It won't ever be like this again, I promise." He tells me, pulling my head back to look at me, "You're so strong, I know you. We'll solve this goddamned case and we will never, ever have to think about the supernatural again."
"But that's a lie, isn't it?" I hiccup, as I fiddle with his collar, "I am a supernatural, our best friends are all supernatural."
"We'll never look into a supernatural case ever again, I swear to you." He amends, I cry harder at that. That's the life I've always wanted since everything happened. And here Stiles is promising me all of it.
"How about we get out of town? I'll take time off for the next few days and we can just forget what happened here." Stiles says, his forehead pressed against mine, his heart beating fast through his t-shirt. Something jabs at my chest when I see him down and upset because of the supernatural, especially when I have an emotional breakdown because of it all.
"Okay," I mumble, I don't have the energy to deny the offer. A break sounds great, especially the way my head is pounding. I slide off of his lap and he drives away down to our apartment.
My head continues to ache for the rest of the night, but I don't mention anything to Stiles. All night my brain tries to think of theories of what might happen: how she wanted me to find a 'solution' but a solution to what? I should've asked. To being a banshee? To Emily's death? But none so covers up the fact that Mrs Lewis didn't like the idea of us finding out about the estate agent, Libby. And that worries me, immensely.