A/N: Okay, so it has been over a month - and I ended this short chapter prematurely. I am so stuck right now it is not even funny: You guys, it seriously feels like my head is the grave that Peter Hale is trying to crawl his creepy ass out of, that is how dead my creativity has been. I'm working through it. I will persist. I have already started working on the next chapter, I have a couple of people helping with my 'problem areas' and I should be on track soon. I can do this. I will do this. Thanks for all the support, and I hope you enjoy!
Chapter Six: Machnamh
"The talented hawk hides its claws."
*Ring Ring*
I frowned and hit the button on the remote controller that muted the television as I listened to the phone ring. Scott's name was flashing on the screen, so I picked up the device and put it to my ear.
"Hello?" I answered
"Hey." Scott said "Are you free right now?"
"Yes. How may I assist?"
"Derek is meeting me at Deaton's, I was wondering if you wanted to come with." Scott offered. I could hear light music and an engine in the background. He was driving.
"It would be a pleasure, I will leave in five minutes." I replied, already grabbing my boots from their place by the door. I still didn't trust the newly turned Alpha, so there was not a chance in hell I was going to not come to a meeting as back up for Scott.
"I was actually going to come and get you. I'm on my way so it'll be two minutes." Scott said
"I will be ready."
The line went dead and I ran upstairs so quickly I blurred, changing into a white shirt and slipping on my grey jacket. I kept the black, form fitting jeans I had on with my combat boots. I brushed my teeth quickly and by the time I was finished I heard Scott knocking on my front door. I flew down the stairs and opened the door to reveal Scott, who smiled as he greeted me and asked if he could come in.
"Please." I said, gesturing him inside and moving so that he could walk into the house. He took it in quietly, looking around at my paintings and some of the weapons lining the walls. I had garnered quite a collection over the years, and they were all displayed on the walls of my house.
"Your house is nice." Scott said complimenting, looking over my living room. My couch, coffee table. the television Stiles set up, and the stand it sat on were the only pieces of furniture in the room. The walls were painted a light grey, and there was a mace, a broadsword, and my butterfly knives were all on the wall along with two paintings I had done years ago. "A lot of weapons, huh?"
"Thank you. Some of them I have made, some of them purchased, and some are from fallen enemies." I told him, observing him as I spoke.
"Really?" Scott turned to me, surprised
"I am a warrior." I reminded him
"I know. I guess I just never thought about it. Are all of your people soldiers?" Scott asked, curiosity gleaming in his dark brown eyes.
"We have many warriors, but we have musicians, healers, builders, farmers." I said wistfully, smiling softly as I thought of rolling green hills, the lilting tunes of flutes made of rowan wood, and the sunset over stars that were familiar to me.
"A whole civilization." Scott said, awed "How do you guys stay hidden?"
"We live in the in between." I told him. "I will explain it some time."
"That's what you always say!" Scott complained good naturedly
"Yes, well. Stop getting involved in situations and we will have enough time to discuss such things." I teased back, before looking at the watch on my wrist. "Should we not be going now?"
"Yeah. You're right." Scott said, sobering up at the reminder. "Let's get going."
We walked together outside and climbed into his mother's car, who was most likely at work. We did not talk much during the drive, and it was only when we were a few moments away from the veterinary clinic that I realised something.
"Are you not grounded from using the vehicle?" I asked him, remembering our conversation from a few days ago. Scott winced as soon as I said it, a guilty look coming over his face.
"Uh.. I might've taken my keys temporarily and made a copy so I could borrow the car while she was at work." Scott told me bashfully
"You are awful." I told him, flashing my teeth.
"Yeah, yeah." Scott responded, rolling his eyes and turning up the music. We both nodded our heads to the music until we finally pulled up outside of the clinic. I saw Isaac and Derek waiting outside, both in leather jackets and jeans. Scott and I exchanged a look before getting out of the car and walking over to where they were standing outside.
"What is he doing here?" Scott said, eyeing Isaac
"I need him." Derek replied stoically
"I don't trust him." Scott replied almost instantly, getting the keys out of his pocket to open the clinic.
"Yeah, well, he doesn't trust you either." Isaac responded in a drawl, making me raise an eyebrow.
"Yeah, and you know what? Derek really doesn't care." Derek said, rolling his eyes "Where is the vet? Is he going to help us?"
"That depends." Deaton said, coming in from the back room to the front office where we were all standing. "Your friend, Jackson. Are we planning to kill him or save him?"
"Save him." Scott and I said at the same time that Derek said kill him. I glared at Derek and Scott gave him a pleading look, before repeating himself. "Save him."
I walked to the back room and sat on one of the counters, ignoring the look Deaton gave me. The others gathered around the examination table as Deaton pulled out glass bottles with herbs inside of them. Isaac reached out to one of the jars and Derek growled warningly at him.
"Watch what you touch." Derek chided, making Isaac have a thoroughly scolded look on his face. I snorted in amusement at the interaction; it was like watching a kid with his parent.
"So what are you?" Isaac asked casually, looking at all of the jars. "Some kind of witch?"
"I'm a veterinarian." Deaton replied firmly "Unfortunately, I don't see anything that's going to be an effective defense against a paralytic toxin."
"Don't need one." I said breezily, grinning at Scott's face when I said it.
"We're open to suggestions." Derek told Deaton impatiently.
"What about an effective offense?" Isaac asked
"We already tried. I nearly took its head off, Argent put a full clip in it, and the Sidhe sliced it a few times. It's just gets back up." Derek reminded him.
"Has it shown any weaknesses?" Deaton asked curiously
"It can't swim." I said, thinking of the night of the pool.
"Well, does that apply to Jackson as well?" Deaton asked
"No, He's captain of the swim team." Scott said
"Essentially, you're trying to capture two people - a puppet, and a puppeteer." Deaton said, putting two circles around an emblem to emphasize his point, surrounding it in mountain ash. "One killed the husband, but the other had to kill the wife. Do we know why?"
"I don't think Jackson could/" Scott said slowly, thinking it over. "His mother died pregnant, too and she was maybe murdered. I don't think he could let the same thing happen to someone else."
"What if it's the rules?" Isaac said "The Kanima only kills murderers; if the mother died, the baby dies too, so he couldn't kill the mom while the baby was inside her."
"Does that mean you father was a murderer too?" Scott asked, an almost challenging look in his eyes.
"Wouldn't surprise me if he was." Isaac deadpanned, shrugging and trying to be nonchalant. I could see the dark look in his eye at the thought though. Scott looked instantly guilty at bringing up the boy's father, making me wonder what he knew about the other beta's home life prior to his father being murdered.
"Hold on. The book says they are bonded, right?" Deaton said, holding an emblem up and beginning to draw a circle of mountain ash around it before starting another circle to emphasize his point. "What if what affects the Kanima, also affects its master?"
"Meaning what?" Isaac asked, eyebrows raised
"We can catch them both." I said, a slow smile starting to grown on my face. "Brilliant."
"We just need to find a way to get these tickets." I heard Scott say to Stiles as they walked towards the front of the school, where I was leaning casually against the handrails of the stairs leading up to the blue metal double doors.
"Maybe somebody we know has a pair?" Stiles mused, voice filled with frustration. "Oh, and for the record, I still think Matt is evil."
"Stiles." Scott sighed, rolling his eyes. "Focus."
"You haven't had any luck locating tickets?" I asked as they climbed the stairs, moving to walk through the doors with my teenage friends.
"They stopped selling." Stiles explained
"You should hurry." I advised "We need everyone there."
"Yeah, well, I don't see you with a plan!" Stiles pointed out, causing me to smirk back at him as I parted ways to go to my locker.
"I already have a ticket." I called back over my shoulder, imagining their dumbfounded faces and grinning to myself. Danny had asked if I wanted to buy his extra ticket after I mentioned I was looking for one when I saw him earlier this morning, and after making sure he didn't mind, I accepted.
Class was as boring as usual, I took tedious notes anyway though to avoid suspicion and just to occupy my hands while my mind wandered. I sincerely hoped whatever plan Deaton and Scott had in mind would work, we were going to go to the clinic after school to figure out the fine points. Hopefully those two would find tickets in time as well, although knowing how resourceful they could be, I did not doubt they would. Snorting quietly to myself, I wondered if it was resourcefulness or pure, dumb luck that helped them out in these situations? It was while I was walking to lunch that I heard the most interesting rumors about Isaac beating up two kids in the locker room because they had both slept with his sister, so as soon as I sat down at the lunch table Stiles and Scott were occupying, I casually asked if they had seen it; Usually, I was not one prone to gossip but that was how slow of a day it was.
"Wha-?" Scott said, his tanned face scrunching up in confusion while Stiles choked on his fizzy drink.
"Isaac doesn't even have a sister!" Stiles exclaimed, looking incredulously around the cafeteria, as though the people responsible for the blatant hyperbole were going to walk up to him.
"So it isn't true?" I asked, mildly disappointed
"Well.." Scott said, a guilty expression on his face "He did throw these guys around."
"Why?" I asked, leaning forward with an interested look on my face. I wasn't proud of it but like I said; anything to break up the monotony.
"To get us these!" Stiles said, triumphantly waving two of the tickets to the party tonight before stashing them back in his bag.
For a moment, I wondered if I should say something about the use of force to get the tickets but it was for the greater good, right? Shrugging internally, I pulled out my book and continued to eat and read in general silence while Scott shot furtive looks at Allison and Stiles did the same with Lydia. The two boys were hopeless, it was a miracle they got anything done.
When the last class of the day finally let out, I rose out of my seat and met up with the two at Stiles' Jeep, ready to go over the battle plan. Sometimes I wish I was the kind of person who could just not give a damn about anything so that I could go home, curl up on my couch, and just read the Odyssey for the one hundreth time; While the idea tempted me more than I would like to admit, I knew I wouldn't leave either of my new friends to deal with this on their own.
I sat in the backseat and wondered why I was doing all of this; the last time I stuck my neck out for a 'good cause', I was exiled. After leaving my home, I instantly jump into another situation where I am a piece on a chessboard - was this going to be my entire life, as long as it may be? Was I always going to be fighting, constantly struggling to stay above the water like that night in the pool when all I wanted to do was let go? I had not felt so world weary in a long time, but with my exile, it seemed as though all I had left was to make friends and watch them die. A year to them was but a moment for me, at least when things were not as chaotic as they were now; so was it truly worth getting attached only to watch them die, either from old age or a undeserved earlier death? Suddenly, I was not so sure. I was broken out of my rather morbid thoughts by our arrival at the clinic. As we walked into the back office, Deaton was waiting for us and it was their that Stiles learned how much of this plan was relying on him as the only human in the process. From what Scott said, Allison had a date so it was only us and Derek's pack of misfits tonight. I suspected Scott may not have even mentioned it to her though, in an attempt to keep her out of harm's way, so I had not brought it up to her at all.
I studied Stiles face, eyes widening anxiously when he found out - he was second guessing himself. I made a mental note to reassure him later, we had to make sure that this went off without a hitch tonight. The Kanima's body count was already too high and if we could, we had to prevent more blood from being spilt. We were all getting frustrated with the lack of progress, so we seriously needed a win, if only for a morale boost to keep fighting the good fight. I may have been projecting because of my own insecure thoughts on the ride over, but it seemed as though even Scott's normally blazing determination was somewhat dimmed.
After agreeing Stiles would pick us up for the rave, I watched the two drive off and began the walk home. I needed the time to clear my head, so humming softly to myself, I made my way home at a leisurely pace. I think I was just homesick and frustrated at our lack of progress with the Kanima situation and the Argents. It seemed like a balancing act, and adding that onto the cultural shock, I figured I just needed to organize and compartmentalize my emotions so I did not feel quite so overwhelmed. I only had a couple of hours until Stiles and Scott were going to pick me up, so when I got home I went sat and went through a couple of easy stretching exercises to relax myself, controlling my breathing. If I was going to be of any use tonight, I needed to be able to focus; I needed to be as in control of myself as I was in my breathing in this moment.
Breathe. Hold. Release.
Breathe. Hold. Release.
Everything was going to be fine, we were all going to be fine.
Breathe. Hold. Release.
Breathe. Hold. Release.
A/N: HELP: Usually I don't do two Author Notes, but it would be a big help if I could get a third-party perspective - so please, any one of you wonderful people reading this out there in the big wide net! I would love if I could hear from you guys what you think dominant aspects of Cian's personality are, in descriptor words (i.e Loyal, Brash, etc..). Also, if anyone has any ideas, I'm up for anything right now - I'll either use it, twist it, or discard it but I'd love to hear it.
Review or message me please!
~Rache