A/N: The unedited version of Ch.5 until I get the revised version from my Beta. : )
Chapter Five
It didn't hurt.
For so long, she'd envisioned this day, envisioned seeing them all again and the pain that would spear her heart when it came…it wasn't there.
Instead, there was a vague sense of amusement at their shocked faces and a burning hateful feeling for the fact that her puddin' and Derek shared the exact same eye color. There was a dark, vicious anger warring with betrayal as she met Scott's eyes, and a flicker of shock when she saw Erica and Boyd.
The nogitsune gave a low rumble in the back of her mind and she smirked when she noticed Derek's eyes slowly skate down her frame.
Too bad for him.
"You're looking very alive for a dead person." Peter commented silkily and she snorted.
"Sorry to disappoint." She replied smarmily, leading them inside. Rick met her as she entered the kitchen, raising an eyebrow.
"No wonder your dad wants us to eat outside. Friends of yours?"
"Victim hopefuls." She replied and he scowled, "Harls-"
"Kidding, kidding…maybe."
The former soldier gave her a stern look then turned to look at the newcomers. There were eleven of them in all, eight men and three women, all of whom set off red flags in his mind. They weren't normal, and he had a feeling that the leader, a tall broad-shouldered man, could kill him before he even moved for a weapon.
No wonder Harley made it on the list before if this was who she'd ran with.
"Better get in here before Croc decides to polish off everything." Deadshot yelled from the other room and Harley gave a viscious grin to the pack.
"C'mon ex-friends. Lets go meet my new friends."
The pack moved to follow her and Flag, but Lydia stopped them grabbing her arm.
"Stiles," She snapped angrily. "You've been gone for almost a decade! You didn't leave a note, you didn't call, and now you have enough nerve to-" -Click-
They stared in shock as Stiles cut her off by pressing a gun to her throat, a wide unnerving smile on her crimson lips.
This was Stiles.
The same Stiles that had followed Lydia like a goddess, hanging off her every word as if it were gospel. The same Stiles that had always done anything she could to protect their pack.
Now she was holding a gun to Lydia's head, just under her chin, eyes gleaming frighteningly.
What the hell was going on?
"Shhh, ya excite me when ya talk like that. Might jerk the wrong way then ya'd be minus a head." She giggled, leaning forward til their lips were only a hairbreadth apart.
"You're not the boss of me, Lyds. You and Malia let Scott kick me out. Out of the pack-"
"You killed Donovan!" Scott yelled at her, seemingly forgetting that Theo had later been proven a liar.
Derek sent him a look, then grabbed the woman, ripping the gun from her hands and throwing it aside. Before he could speak, another gun sounded, followed by another.
"Let her go."
The voice was cold and harder than steel. Its owner stood in the walk way separating the Kitchen and the living room two slim black pistols aimed at Derek with frightening accuracy.
Somehow, they knew if he decided to fire, he wouldn't miss.
The man from before stood off to the side with an exasperated expression.
"First day in town and you're gonna commit a murder in the Sheriff's living room." He deadpanned.
Stiles cackled, dancing out of Derek's grip to place a placating hand on the gunman's arm.
"C'mon, no killing til we get outside."
He snorted then nodded, sending them all a look, then looped his arm with Stiles and led her outside.
The pack followed, feeling more confused than they'd ever remembered being in their…former packmate's presence.
Hopefully there would be no more surprises tonight, especially from her.
"Sir, we found her."
Mad hazel-green eyes snapped away from the collection of knives spread before their owner to pierce him with a soul searing stare and never in his life had Taylor Kingsfield felt so uncomfortable.
Staring into the eyes of the Clown Prince on a good day was unsettling but meeting the stare of the man when he was without his queen…it was terrifying. There was no sanity in that gaze, none of the man's trademarked mal-humor. There was only madness, possession, and an all-consuming need to get what was his back where it belonged.
It made him hope that whenever they were reunited, they wouldn't separate again.
No one should be subjected to Joker when he was unhappy.
"Where is she?" the man growled, and for a moment he swore that his eyes flashed red but that was impossible.
Red eyes didn't exist…
Did they?
Swallowing thickly, he found himself hoping it was a trick of light. Joker was scary enough without super powers.
"Beacon Hills, Sir. Tracers say she arrived there…eight hour ago."
Red again, it wasn't trick.
Joker was furious.
"Why wasn't I told eight hours ago?!" He roared and Taylor faltered back.
"The analysts wanted to be sure," He stammered, trembling slightly. "She's at the sheriff's house."
"Have the jet prepped. Now." The clown growled dangerously. "I want to be there yesterday."
He nodded and quickly fled, heart racing in his chest.
Maybe he should take his mother's advice and get a real job. Uncle James had openings in his bar.
Despite its tense start, Dinner was a lively affair.
Stiles flitted around as if she hadn't threatened to kill Lydia and was generally…Stiles. The Squad, her new friends were all very lively as well and were exchanging stories that the pack wasn't entirely sure were false or night (seriously, who admitted to robbing the diamond exchange?), while the Sheriff, Melissa, and Peter chatted quietly amongst each other.
As the night wound down, however, they felt all of their questions come flooding back , especially when she would trail off in the middle of a sentence and stare at the sky with a forlorn expression.
Her friend Floyd (who they called DeadShot) would nudge her and send her a concerned look which she waved off with her patented "I'm fine" (something that everyone agreed was a lie).
"Hey Peter," Every turned to her as she spoke, a strange glint dancing in her eyes.
"Yes?" He replied wearily.
"You ever tell the pack you were a twin?"
"No," came a voice, and her head whipped around, her eyes widening and filling with tears. " I don't imagine he did."
"Puddin?"
"Alex?"
TBC…