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Chapter 3

"Stay in the car," Derek muttered, slipping out the door. He half expected Becca to jump out of the passenger's side and follow him the way she'd insisted on coming with him in the first place. Thankfully, she didn't. The earlier excitement had left the hunter exhausted, though her pride would never let her admit it. He could hear her taking shallow breaths as her heart beat sluggish and irregular. How was he supposed to keep her alive if she insisted on pushing herself too hard?

He slipped into Beacon Hill high through the side door. The halls were deserted, the calm before the storm. In a few minutes the corridors would be flooded with students rushing to lunch. Derek could feel their anticipation as he followed Stile's scent. Once he'd found the boy's classroom he moved across the hall and a few doors down so he could watch but not be noticed. The bell rang and he could hear Stiles and Scott talking as they merged with the deluge of students milling out of neighbouring classes.

He pulled out his cell phone and sent a quick text to Stiles, demanding to know what he'd come up with on Becca. Hanging back in the thinning crowd of students, he followed the two teens to their lockers. A smile twitched at his lips at the sight of Stiles fumbling in his pockets, nearly dropping his phone. He heard the teen huff as he read the message and knew there was an eye roll accompanying it though Stiles' back was turned to him.

"You go on ahead, I'll meet you in a few minutes," Stiles said, waving Scott off when he hesitated.

When Scott was out of earshot, Stiles pulled out his phone, dialing what Derek assumed was his number. But Derek was on him before he could press send. His hand over Stiles' mouth to keep him from yelling out, Derek dragged him out the way he'd come and pushed him into the back seat of his Camaro.

"Geez, dude," Stiles cried out excitedly, barely managing to keep from falling head first into the seat. "You couldn't just wait for me to call you back with the information you wanted on that crazy h—" Stiles' eyes widened as he noticed Becca staring at his from the front seat. "H-herpes cure." Derek's Jaw clenched, glaring at Stiles in the rear view mirror.

Stiles laughed nervously, shifting his gaze back to Becca. "Wow, heterochromia irridis! You know that's really rare," he pointed at her mismatched eyes. "Less than two hundred thousand people in the US," he added excitedly.

Becca just stared at the boy for a long moment, her brow furrowing as she turned to Derek. "This is your go to guy, a high school, what…senior?"

"Junior," Stiles interjected leaning into the space between the two front seats. "Actually" He pressed his lips closed, his eyes wide at Derek's look. "I'm just gonna…" he motioned to the back seat leaning completely back against it.

"He's gonna help us figure out who set fire to the lawn without getting past the gate?" Without responding, Derek started the car and pulled away from the school.

"What fire? Where?" Stiles asked, his words quick and animated, leaning forward again as he continued, "where're we going? Are we gonna eat lunch, 'cause I gotta tell ya, I work much better on a full stomach."

Derek leaned over Stile's shoulder to get a closer look at the computer screen. "Perfonal 'pace," Stiles mumbled around a mouthful of burger. Derek ignored the boy, staring at the screen. While Becca occupied herself searching for the possible culprits supernatural or otherwise of that morning's fire, Derek asked Stiles to show him what he'd found out about Becca.

He read over a ten-year-old newspaper clipping about Rebecca Sinclair, 15, who'd gone missing. Quotes from her mother and friends claiming she would never have run away and from the police, claiming to be looking into her possible abduction. Then there was nothing. No credit reports, school records past when she went missing, no tax returns, nothing for ten years.

Though this was unusual, it was the second newspaper article from a couple of weeks before her arrival in Beacon Hills with Rowan that had Derek wondering just who she was. The article was an obituary, complete with smiling photograph of Becca. "…sudden, unexpected death Friday, March 9th, 2012 of Rebecca Sinclair, 25. A private funeral to take place Sunday, March 11th, 2012. She leaves behind her fiancé, Luke Darringer and uncle, Rowan St. Christen."

"She looks pretty good for a dead woman," Stiles mumbled under his breath.

Derek's gaze jerked to the opposite corner where Becca sat at her own computer. Her heart beat accelerated and her breath quickened the way they did when someone was surprised. Had she heard Stiles? Her gaze met his, and her heart beat faltered as she looked away, but not before Derek caught a glimpse of something. Sadness, in her eyes?

His jaw clenched, realizing if she'd searched fires in Beacon Hills, she'd undoubtedly found out about his family. He could feel her pity and it only served to ignite his anger. The last thing he wanted was a hunter pitying him. "Look up Rowan St. Christen," he ordered through clenched teeth, his voice a low growl. He heard Stiles comply, his fingers quickly tapping away at the keys.

Articles about the millionaire philanthropist filled the page. Hospital boards, charity auctions and fundraisers. Opening businesses, creating jobs. Everything to make the vampire look like the kindest man on the planet. What better place for the vampire to hide than in plain sight.

"This guy's a saint," Stiles murmured, scrolling through the pages of links.

"Try, Luke Darringer." Derek's gaze ticked to Becca as he spoke. The fatigue she'd been fighting all morning was starting to show through. Her shoulders were hunched and dark smudges beneath her eyes. So, he was trying to keep a dead girl alive. Why fake her death if she was dying anyway?

"Well, that's interesting," Stiles' stunned tone pulled him out of his thoughts. Stiles nodded at the screen. It was an obituary identical to Becca's; even the date was the same. The only difference was that this one was for Luke Darringer, 34, who left behind his fiancée Rebecca Sinclair. "And then there's this few years back." Stiles clicked another link.

"…Luke Darringer was held for questioning in Addison MI, in connection with the disappearance of Edward Matthews, 34. The police later released Darringer claiming a lack of evidence tying the man to Matthews' disappearance…"

"And this from, like a week ago." Stiles clicked on another link.

"…Friday, March 30th, 2012. Two men were arrested outside a Boston bar after a fight broke out between the men and the other patrons. Luke Darringer and Jamie Briggs were charged with drunken and disorderly conduct and were released on bail the next morning. A court appearance for both men is scheduled for…"

"That can't be the same guy, can it?" Stiles asked, but Derek wasn't paying attention. He knew this was no coincidence. Jamie Briggs was one of the Brethren hunters Rowan had saved him from. "Hey, is she alright?" Stiles nudged his head in Becca's direction.

"She's dying," Derek replied, closing Stiles' laptop and pressing it to the boy's chest. "C'mon I'll drive you back to school."

"Wait, what?" Stiles hugged his laptop to him as Derek scooped him up by the collar of his shirt. "She's dying and you're just gonna leave her here?" he hissed.

"She'll be fine, for now." He cleared his throat, garnering Becca's attention. There was a new softness to her gaze when she looked at him that he hated. "I'm taking the kid back to school. You should get some rest."