A/N~ Thank you all for your patience during this difficult time for me and also for being so kind in your reviews. I'm glad everyone is enjoying this piece and hope you will continue to do so. Please continue to enjoy and review. Keep that feedback coming andI am not averse to treats for those who are interested in sending some via the internet. "Wink" ~A
Chapter 19
Lydia focused on the work she was doing. Mr. Hunt, the school's new principal is a man of limited intelligence, in her humble opinion. In truth she's not really sure how he got the job, because she actually had to explain to the man in detail, what the Fields Medal was.
To his credit though he was letting her use the Math Lab to work on her extra-curricular project so she couldn't exactly speak too badly of him. Lydia knew it was late, her Mom, even though she knew where Lydia was had already called her daughter three times. The teen was determined to finish at least this part of the equation to her satisfaction before she left this evening.
She is truly determined to get the Fields Medal before she even gets into college. Lydia is focused on what she's working on. The shadowy figure slips into the lab easily without being detected.
The strawberry blond doesn't even sense the intruder until she feels the urge to scream. A garrote is wrapped around her throat and as it begins to tighten she hears an ancient guttural language fall from the woman's lips and she does recognize that her attacker is a woman. As she sees the other woman raise the dagger Lydia manages to get enough breath into her lungs to scream. The banshees shriek is enough to have the woman forget the garotte and cover her ears. Lydia jumps up but before she can turn to face her attacker the other woman runs out of the lab. Lydia falls to her knees, as she reaches up to pull the wire away from her throat and as soon as she is able she screams again. Then calls the police.
The deputy who comes to take her statement apparently was ready to write off the attack as teenage hormones and histrionics. His words not Lydia's, and was practically accusing the teen of self inflicting the wounds on her neck to get attention.
Until the EMT's, told the Deputy, "You're an idiot man, and yes you can tell your boss I said so. This girl has a gash about ¼ inch deep around her neck. How she's not bleeding to death I don't know, She's just incredibly lucky to have a deep running carotid. The gash is more than three quarters of the way around her neck There is no way in hell that wound is self-inflicted and the fact you didn't even notice that just shows what an idiot you are. Especially since the evidence is still sitting on the floor right there and you haven't even tried to mark it or collect it." The man said indicating the aforementioned weapon with his pen as he continued to write up the incident for his own records.
The deputy looking decidedly disgruntled snaps on a pair of gloves and lifts the garrote with his pen before dropping it in an evidence bag. The EMT beside her mutters under his breath so that only Lydia can hear. "Should have photographed it, beforehand. Like I said before, what an idiot. Sheriff's going to have a coronary."
~O~
Kenzi had her arms wrapped around Dyson's torso as she let him take control. The rumbling and vibration between her thighs were exciting and new. When he had told hardhearted to take her to the Moon she had no idea he had meant the Luna Café on the outskirts of Beacon Hills. This was a new place that Stiles had apparently mentioned to Dyson in passing. Since they still were concerned about kidnapping from both the Argents and the Alpha Pack The older werewolf had hoped this far out of the way would be safe enough for the equivalent of their first date.
Kenzi could say a great many things about the teen, that he didn't know junk food would be the farthest one from the truth. So it was they found themselves in the parking lot of the Luna Café.
They arrive with a jangle of bells at the door, a quiet flare as the fifties song playing over the speakers reached its crescendo and petered out. It was cute and kind of kitschy without being too overbearing.'
"So do we want to sit up front where the action is, take a table to people watch or booth for canoodling?" Kenzi asked as she looked around at the surroundings.
"Canoodling? I'm centuries old and to my knowledge I have never used that word in any type of sentence." Dyson advised as he looked around and saw a small family of four heading to the cash register to pay their bill, thus freeing up one of the booths.
He clasped Kenzi's hand and managed to maneuver them through the restaurant to the back booth. Just as they slid into the unoccupied seats, the cook came out of the kitchen. She was a fifty something year old woman with iron grey hair who addressed the patrons as she said, "Sorry folks need to take a few minutes personal time with my future lung cancer," she said as she held up a pack of cigarettes and said, "I'll be back in just a few minutes."
After getting cups of coffee from the waitress the pair sit and talk about the future, as in after they get rid of the Alpha Pack and whatever is making the sacrifices. Kenzi explains that while she enjoys visiting her family. There are still a lot of painful memories here of losing her family and Pack. That Beacon Hills is its own kind of crazy even without the fae involvement.
"I'm ready to go home right now or as soon after we get rid of the Alpha Pack..and what did you say you think this mass murderer thing was?"
"A darach, a dark druid if you will. Instead of working with nature, they seek to gain power from nature by making deals usually with blood sacrifices. The virgins were to open negotiations so to speak. The rest are usually a more personal thing between the darach and whatever nature entity its making the deal with."
It could be anything from a powerful fae, to a band of brownies although they don't usually deal with darachs anymore. They usually end up with the short end of the stick, so to speak in the dealing. My money is on your Nemeton though."
"Except the Nemeton was destroyed or at least seriously weakened when it was cut down by some idiots." Kenzi said shrugging her head as she flipped her hair over her shoulder and leaned closer.
"Yes, and has anyone heard anymore from those idiots since then?" Dyson asked raising an eyebrow questioningly at the young woman.
Kenzi thought about that as her eyes gradually widened, her voice so high it almost squeaked as she asked, "Are you telling me the Nemeton has been alive and well and what…in hibernation this whole time?"
"It wouldn't be the first time," he told her as he drained the last of his coffee. He looked around to see if he could get a refill only to find the waitress at the register, ringing up someone's bill. She looked very frazzled and that's when they noticed the smell of burning food and realized just how long it had been since the cook had left. They also became aware that several of the customers were muttering in irritation around them.
Kenzi leapt to her feet and hissed softly, "You try and find the cook, I'll try to avoid the Food Mutiny that's about to happen here."
Kenzi grabbed the two coffee pots and worked her way around the restaurant offering refills to the patrons. Before heading behind the counter to try and find an apron as she said to the waitress. "I'll cook you serve and try and keep things going out here, Yeah?" At the girls grateful nod Kenzi headed into the back and found she had to toss everything and start from scratch.
"So much for a quiet night with my guy," she paused as she realized Dyson was hers, he was her guy. She put some fresh patties on the grill and dropped some fires before she got too caught up in those thoughts and lost track of time and had to start the whole thing over again.
Dyson went outside to see if he could find the cook, while he felt a slight pang of worry for leaving Kenzi alone in this situation, he also knew Kenzi, if she said she would handle something she usually did.
Although the werewolf usually enjoyed the scent of a good pipe tobacco, his sensitive nose didn't tolerate cigars well. No matter how fine a quality and cigarettes even less so. He scented the air though and his sensitive nose soon led him to a still smoking, half-burned cigarette laying on the ground. There were signs of a scuffle and a splatter of blood on the ground. Dyson tried to track the marks left by the cook and her attacker but the trail disappeared after about fifty feet. He didn't lose the trail it literally did just disappear into thin air.
"Kenzi isn't going to like this," he thought as he pulled out his phone and called 911. While he headed back to the café while waiting to be connected to a deputy.
~O~
Later when the rest of the Pack comes to see her, she tells them what happened.
As a group they talk about what has been happening. "My question is why is it escalating, and the killer is getting more bold. I mean Lydia was alone at the high school yeah but the café? It may not have been full but there were still quite a lot of customers coming and going." the young Beta said as she leaned against her mates lean frame, "I mean we're going to assume the cook is one of the victims even if we haven't found the body yet, right? Plus the waitress said the cook had some military training so that just adds to the level of difficulty, so why now?"
Scott agreed and wondered out loud, "Why does it seems to be escalating? Is there maybe some truly fucked up timeline to the whole thing?"
Dyson replies, "I think I may know the answer to that. In the next few weeks a lunar eclipse is coming up. It wasn't obvious at first I think I may recognize the ritualistic way the bodies have been killed and positioned as a perverted variation of a Druidic ritual, outlawed centuries ago."
He adds, "I think the lunar eclipse is their midnight for Cinderella. So they are running out of time, I still haven't figured out the pattern though." He says as he runs the victims through his mind once again.
"Pattern?" Derek asked.
"Druids even the dark ones, believe very strongly in patterns," Stiles explains. "The seasons, the moon, all the patterns of nature, the sacrifices are in a pattern, one this Druid chose for a reason. One specific to herself." Stiles continued his own eyes distant. "There are the virgins and I think we should add the soldiers or warriors to that since it's a rather strong theme to the Celts."
"Genius's are a new thing though. Clearly not about Lydia being a supernatural otherwise whoever she is wouldn't have been frightened off by her scream." Derek added.
"Not genius, a sage, scholar, or philosopher," Peter clarified as he handed the young woman a glass of water and a couple of painkillers she had refused the stronger meds as she didn't want to be loopy and out of it. So despite her mothers protests, it was nothing stronger than extra strength pain killers.
"This reminds me of something, I have to look it up though," Stiles said as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Either way, when the eclipse happens they have to have collected all of the bodies and gained all of the power they needed from them, in theory. The question is which deity or entity they've made this deal with?"
"Does it really matter?" Lydia asked, "So this Druid woman whatever she has planned, will happen on the lunar eclipse. Great. So we wait till then and you guys go get her." Lydia says marks still prominent on her throat, and her voice obviously straining..
The werewolves at least the older ones all look at each other and shift uncomfortably, "Not that easy Lydia," Kenzi replied finally, "The wolf power is still closely aligned to the moon and during a lunar eclipse the werewolves will all be at their weakest."
"Shit," Lydia said with feeling.