Episode 7: If you're looking for trouble Pt 1

Chris stared at the badge in something like awe. John had handed him a Deputy's badge with a simple statement of, 'watch Derek's back.'

There was something strange about the idea of him having a badge. A hunter would give its teeth for this type of legitimacy. The only trouble the fear for his children was outweighing any glee. He looked at his mate and could see it in him also. They were predators and someone was trying to hunt their kids. It brought out their worst or perhaps best instincts.

It was even worse for Peter. "You can't go out there Peter."

"That's our kids and our pack!" Peter snarled, feeling every ounce of protective instinct.

Chris wasn't always demonstrative around others. He was now. He got it, oh boy did he get it. He cupped Peter's cheek and used every ounce of control to show his feelings. He was a son of a bitch too as he used their mating bond to share his feelings of dread. "I will help Derek but with killer viruses out there ... I can't risk you."

Chris may have hated the way his voice broke on the last bit. He knew though it was that bit that got through to Peter. He could see the resignation on Peter's face. Peter wasn't quite willing to let it go just yet.

"What am I supposed to do twiddle my thumbs?"

Chris would have in another situation made a sarcastic comment but now was not the time. "No you are going to be the proper Left Hand of the pack like you trained for." Chris could work with this, "You research the threats. Derek and I will be the people to end them."

Peter wasn't sold on the entire idea but he could see the logic. "You forget about that shiny badge ... If they are a threat to you. I want you to shoot them dead."

Chris had finished putting all the weapons on and around him to feel safe and secure to hunt. "You bet your sweet ass."

He would always do his best to survive. Chris had way too much to live for; he had Peter and their two kids. He was living the dream as even his ex-wife didn't hate him. How many men his age could say the same thing?

Jordan woke groggy and disorientated. He didn't get it. He was not sure where he was. One minute he had been in the school and the next he was getting a lift back to the station. Oh yeah, that's right. The Sheriff had seen how tired he was and ordered Haigh to drop him back at the office.

It was the thing he could remember. Jordan felt like he'd had a good night on the town. Only he knew that wasn't true. He tried to move his hands to freshen up but he couldn't. What the hell?

Why was he tied to the wheel of the cruiser? What had Haigh done? He turned his head to try and get his bearings. Haigh was watching him with a strange calculating look in his eyes. He didn't care this wasn't hazing, this was crazy.

Jordan groaned, "Haigh. What the hell man untie me!"

He was guessing that was out. The bastard was throwing what smelt like gasoline over him. Parrish had to calm himself down before he could. "Why are you doing this?"

"Oh come on Parrish! You know someone wants you dead right? And is going to pay a whole lot of money?"

Huh. So this was a hit list thing. He knew his name was on it but he'd relied on his training to stay safe. It was overconfidence but he'd agreed with little Malia's assessment. Derek and Stiles were the biggest targets so those would be who got targeted first.

It was wrong. "What am I worth?"

It was a sick question but Jordan figured if you were going to burn a guy to a death. You could man up about what it would be worth.

Haigh shrugged, "A cool 40K."

Well there was irony. The money was cool but he was dying by fire. There was no worth pleading with the bastard. It was clear he had no conscience about the matter. He was enjoying it. There was an unnatural gleam in his eyes. Jordan didn't get it. How was he the monster for being a creature? And yet this piece of scum who was trying to kill him was better just because he was human?

"I hope you rot in hell!" Parrish screamed as the flames got ever closer. The warmth was getting uncomfortable.

He saw Haigh walk away and Jordan sneered. He was too much of coward to watch his handy work. The flames were getting closer. This was so not good. A voice in his head spoke,

"The flames are who you are. They don't scare you."

Jordan disagreed. Flames were bad as they led to death. Jordan didn't think scared covered his emotions right now. His other nature was not at the fore of his mind right now. He'd forgotten what he'd learnt about his nature.

"You're thinking human. Be one with the flame my son and you will get your revenge."

Now that he could do. He preferred thoughts of revenge to overwhelming fear. Jordan focused his mind on all the ways he could kill Haigh when he caught up with him. There were so many. He just needed to escape from this car to achieve his aim. Goals were important - the army had taught him that.

The flames were warm and scary but the voice was right. They welcomed him. He could be one of the flames if he put his mind to it. If anyone else had been around the abandoned car lot they would feel like they were losing their minds. You see they would have seen a burning fire beast walking out of the car as if it was nothing.

The flames doused themselves on the physical level as Jordan carried on walking. The flames inside his heart were burning ice cold. Haigh was his target and he would have his pound of flesh.

Stiles sat down on the bench as he watched the idiot get cuffed and led away. There was one moment he would treasure where the Chemist screamed. "I would have got away without you meddling kid."

Stiles screamed at his retreating figure, "You shouldn't be a dumbass then!"

His Dad just gave him the parental stare. You know the one that gets you squirming. "What?"

His Dad sighed, "I should let Derek know about your psycho-baiting. It is not a healthy habit."

"Pur-lease we have Peter in our pack." Stiles said as if that was the beginning and the end of the argument.

John would love to argue the point with Stiles. He would. The trouble was he knows the kid is telling the truth. "Look be careful we still don't know how many of these bastards are still in town."

Stiles nodded. He was tense. There was something wrong. He just couldn't put his finger on what. "Something is wrong."

Lydia had found her way to Stiles. She knew something bad was happening. Her worry stemmed from the fact all her instincts were telling her to scream and to not stop. Her powers were too new and fresh. She sort help from someone she hoped could help. She hated this as it had separated her from the betas still healing. Allison had been adamant. She could protect the betas on her own. Lydia needed to go and make sure the rest of the pack was safe.

It would be a turning point in her powers. It would be the first time she would think of them as positive. All she could think up to now was the depressive - her powers warned her about death. How great was that?

Now she could use them to stop a death?

She looked fragile right now in Stiles' eyes. "What's up Lyds?"

She shook her head, trying to shrug off the noise and voices. She knew in her head that she wasn't going crazy but it was taking her heart a little longer to catch up. "Someone is in danger and I can't tell whom?"

John frowned, thinking of who might be in danger. It could be any of the main adults, Peter, Derek or hell even Jordan. He was less worried for Chris and Melissa at the moment. For one reason only the threat was targeting the supernatural members only. It still burned that someone had dared to put a bounty on his kid. John hoped Mab made the idiot pay in whatever way her malicious heart came up with.

Stiles picked her hands up, "Let's find out. Hey Lyds focus on the voices."

Lydia gritted her teeth. "There are too many."

Stiles hook his head. "Nah. You just need to find the relevant one. Who is warning us?" It was a good job the Deputy had taken his statement and cleared the room they'd used. There was no good way for Stiles to explain why he was glowing.

Lydia's eyes focussed, which may seem odd as she was focussing her sense of hearing. "Jordan."

It made sense why Lydia and Stiles felt it first. The pack was not racist like some of the older packs. Stiles was more likely to feel the harm of Jordan and Lydia because of their heritages.

John picked up his keys. He was not letting the kids out of his sight. "I'll drive you tell me where."

Stiles flowed into his core. The rate he was burning through magick he was going to have to go and visit his grandparents soon. He would need the recharge of his core. He just hoped the pack could clear the assassination drama up first.

"Down first ... Turn left ... Right ... Stop."

It was an abandoned car lot. They could see the wreck of the car. It was in a bad way but there was just enough of it to recognise it. It was a patrol car. The three looked grim as they approached the car. John didn't care who you were - fire was a nasty way to die and took way more than it saved. He would take great pleasure hunting down whoever did this to his deputy.

He told the kids to stay back. He knew they had seen so much in their lives but if he could spare them this one - he would. There was nothing crueler than a death by fire. It twisted things beyond recognition. John felt the Hale pack had had too much fire in their lives already.

Stiles frowned looked at the ground. He let out a whoop and cheer of agonised relief. John missed the wicked grin. "Dad Jordan's mad but okay."

Lydia and John moved over to where Stiles was pointing. It was late but there was enough lighting for them to see it. There were dirty ash paw prints.

Stiles gave himself a minute to laugh and just rejoice in fact there was no more death. He might be four legged and be a slight fire code violation issue but he is alive. Everything else he could deal with later.

Jordan was more than okay. He was safe and powerful. Revenge and anger filled his thoughts. He would repay every moment of fear he had on Haigh's face. These paws were good for moving through territory fast but not for his plans. He needed his limbs back. He was at the back entrance to the Sheriff's office. It was one the officers could use and focussed his thoughts on what he needed. It felt like there was something along. He didn't know what but he'd go with it.

He was human. He was sooty and the ash clung to him like a second skin. For once, it was okay and somehow it was protecting his modesty. Perfect. He didn't care. He needed to have a chat with Haigh and he wasn't going to delay for anything stupid like clothes.

He burst through the door. If you want to make an entrance go big or go home. The deputies in the office scrambled backwards but Haigh just froze.

"Oh shit."

Parrish said nothing, just smirked and it would have made Mab smirk in how devilish it looked.

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