Chapter 2

Later that evening, Stiles drove Scott and Liam in his trusty blue jeep to Scott's house to meet with Lydia, Malia, and Kira. The pack had agreed to gather that evening to discuss the homicides, and plan their next move. For the entire drive, Stiles debated whether or not to tell Scott about his strange encounter with the CIA agents. In the end, Stiles decided that Scott had enough on his plate – with two of the dead being werewolves, Scott had a ridiculous sense of obligation towards them and felt their deaths personally, which meant Stiles was now personally invested as his best friend – and resolved to handle it himself.

If the agents showed up again, and threatened him, then Stiles would take action.

When they arrived, Stiles killed the engine, and the boys piled out of the jeep. Stiles slammed his own door shut and locked the doors, following Scott and Liam to the front porch.

"Have you heard anything on the police scanner, Stiles?" Scott asked as he pulled a key from his backpack and unlocked the front door.

"No," Stiles said at the same moment Lydia's Volvo pulled up with the girls. The door unlocked, Scott turned and a smile softened his face. Stiles knew that look. Stepping past his best friend, Stiles clapped him on the shoulder and practically shoved him towards Kira.

"Well I think," Liam began, completely ignorant of the way Scott could see nothing but his kitsune girlfriend. Stiles grabbed the sleeve of Liam's shirt and dragged him inside the house, cutting him off. "Hey!" Liam said indignantly as he stumbled through the front door. "What's your problem?"

"Read the room a little," Stiles grumbled and strode into the kitchen, slinging his backpack onto the table. It took Liam a moment to understand, but when he did, a sheepish expression crossed his face.

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh." Stiles rummaged through the cupboards for some food. He was starving. A few seconds later, Lydia and Malia appeared. Stiles paused for a moment and admired Lydia's outfit. Even after all this time, he couldn't get over those perfect auburn waves. Especially in the cute sundress she wore and those brown shoes, a belt cinched around that perfect little waist. He and Malia shared a friendly look - exes past the awkward phase of jealousy or regret - before Malia took a seat next to Liam.

"Kira and Scott will be here in a minute," Lydia said pointedly. Liam snickered and slid into a seat at the table. "So. What is our plan?" Lydia thrust one hip to the side in a way that said she was in charge and crossed her arms over her stomach.

"Well, we were kind of hoping you knew," Stiles said with a vague gesture. "Being the banshee and all. Can't you just tell us who will die next?"

"I don't know how many times we've been over this, Stiles," Lydia responded in exasperation. "It doesn't work like that."

"So, should we…play music or something?" Liam asked, palms splayed on the table. "You know…give you something to listen to?" Stiles and Lydia both gave him a look. "Fine," he mumbled and gazed down at his hands. "Just trying to help."

"Maybe if we," Lydia began, but she didn't get much further. At that moment, Scott and Kira stepped inside, hand in hand, and they weren't alone. Stiles turned, his arms full of contents to make a sandwich, and froze. The girl, the one with the chestnut curls and the eyes like springtime, stood behind Scott and Kira, lingering in the doorway. She looked awkward and uncomfortable, completely different from the confident, cheerful girl from earlier.

Lydia turned and went rigid, hands curling into fists at her sides.

"Um…sorry for the intrusion," the girl said and lowered her eyes to the floor, tucking a chestnut curl behind one ear. "I just-"

"What are you doing here?" Stiles demanded. Belatedly, he recalled the girl's presence before the agents practically threatened him to help them. Is she working with them? Stiles didn't trust her. Her appearance and the arrival of the agents were too close together. It was too coincidental, and Stiles had stopped believing in coincidence a long time ago.

Scott stepped between them.

"Whoa, Stiles, chill." The girl winced as if she'd been struck and toed her boot into the hardwood floor.

"You forgot this at the guidance office, and I wanted to return it," she murmured and extended her palm. She uncurled her fingers to reveal Stiles' driver's license. Stiles stared at it blankly. He completely spaced. He'd been in such a rush to leave the office that he forgot the agent still had his driver's license.

For a moment, no one moved. Then, Stiles uncoiled like a snake and darted forward, depositing the sandwich spoils across the table. He snatched the driver's license from the girl's hands and held it up to the light. No tracers that he could see, nothing tampered with. Stiles lowered his palm and stared at the girl. She continued to stare down at her boots, folding her arms behind her back.

"Well, I should be going," she said and turned to leave. Stiles merely stared as she left the room, practically skipping through the front door. He turned to find everyone staring at him – especially Scott, the disappointment practically radiating from him in waves.

"Dude," Scott said under his breath and pointed towards the door. Stiles snapped out of his stupor with a loud breath and ran forward. Even if he didn't trust the girl, she had brought him back his driver's license. It would have cost him a pretty penny he didn't have to replace it.

"Hey!" Stiles skidded through the front door and stopped. The girl was walking towards a shiny black sedan idling by the curb. Stiles momentarily stopped short. She has a driver? Shaking his head, Stiles hopped down the steps two at a time. "Wait. Wait." The girl paused on the sidewalk and turned, one finger tangled in her curls.

She blinked at the sight of him.

"What?" she asked in confusion. He came up level with her and found himself surprised, again, by how tiny she was. Small boned. Slim limbs. Stiles fancied he could blow her away like dandelion fuzz.

"I uh, you know, wanted to say thank you for returning my driver's license," Stiles said and hoisted the I. evidence. "I didn't mean to be rude, you just…you caught me by surprise. You know, calling me by name, showing up at my best friend's house out of nowhere..." Too late, Stiles realized how much those words sounded like an accusation. The girl merely smiled, and it transformed her entire face. The sun came to life behind her eyes, brightening the planes of her sharp features.

"You're welcome." Stiles sucked in a breath. He held the girl's eyes, and she stared right back, the second between them extending into dangerous territory. Longer than acquaintances had any right to share. Longer even than strangers. Something shifted, and the girl's smile began to fall.

Stiles stepped back and cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair.

"I'll see you at school?" he asked uncertainly, and she nodded.

"See you then." She turned to leave. It wasn't until she reached the sedan and opened the back door that Stiles realized one more thing.

"Hey." She paused, the door opened, and turned back to him. "What's your name?" She smiled again, the dazzling smile from before, not the hesitant smile of a few seconds ago.

"Call me Ellie."

When Stiles returned inside, he found Lydia sitting at the kitchen table, head held in her hands. Stiles pocketed his driver's license and ran to her side, kneeling on the floorboards.

"What happened? What's wrong?" Scott and Kira hovered over her, but Scott shook his head.

"I don't know, she just kind of…collapsed when that girl left." Lydia's hand snaked out suddenly, gripping Scott's wrist hard enough that he jolted in surprise.

"It's her," Lydia gasped. "It's her." Stiles' stomach twisted into an anxious knot.

"What's her?" Lydia lifted her head, her perfect green eyes round with fear.

"Whoever's going to die, it will be around her."