-unedited-
Stiles paced along the hallway of the McCall house, his blood pounding in his ears. He might have come to terms with his best friend's wolfiness, but he still couldn't control the blind terror that seized him every time his life was being threatened.
"Allison. Call Scott. Now." The brunette scrambled for her phone, cursing lowly. Stiles, however, couldn't tear his gaze from the four leather clad nightmares standing across the street. He had come to the conclusion that Derek took the whole 'bad boy werewolf' persona to an extreme, with the excess leather and constant frowning. Not to forget how he had a habit of speaking in half truths and colorful threats.
"Scott's on his way." The words had barely even left her mouth before there was a knock on the door. The pair traded equal looks of confusion. Scott would never knock on his own door, but neither would Derek and Co.- they were more of a kick the door down and roar in your face kinda crew.
Swallowing thickly, Stiles peeked out the window, confronted by the sight of bright blue hair. He looked back to Allison.
"It's a girl." He whispered. "With blue hair." Another knock, this one a lot louder.
"Well..answer it." Stiles sputtered. Had she lost her mind? With all the beasties crawling in Beacon Hills, she wanted him to let a total stranger in the house? Idiots, the whole lot of them. If they all listened to him, half of this shit would never have happened.
"Fine!" He shook a finger at her," But if we both die, I'm haunting your ass!" Turning back to the closed door, he took a few moments to compose himself before swinging the door open with a wide smile.
"Hi. Can I h-" His throat seemed to close up at the sight of the woman. She glared up at him, her pale features settled into one of the angriest expressions he'd ever seen. The unrestrained anger and frustration in her face froze him in Hale had nothing on this chick.
"No, you can't." She pushed past him into the hallway. "But I can help you. Or well, I have to, but technicalities. As long as I keep your ass from becoming kibble bits it doesn't really matter why I'm here. " Her voice was cold and clipped, but she talked so quickly Stiles felt like if she didn't slow down he'd suffer from verbal whiplash.
"Wait, wait, wait. Just who in the hell are you?" Allison raised her crossbow and aimed at the blue haired stranger. She raised a single electric brow, her navy eyes looking from Allison to Stiles to the crossbow.
"Aren't you listening? I'm the person that's going to save your pretty little ass. Now, unless you want that crossbow shoved in some very uncomfortable places you'd do best to put it down, capice?" She smiled as Allison hesitantly lowered the weapon, but the expression was more chilling than comforting.
"Well not that we aren't very grateful for you saving us. I think Ali was asking for your name." Stiles stressed the word, his voice flat and his eyes hard. He wasn't sure where the sudden bravery came from. At first, the woman had sorta scared him, but there was something about her that just put him on edge. She growled lowly at him as she removed her coat, revealing pale arms covered in swirling tattoos. For a second, Stiles swore he saw the inky lines move.
"Remington, but you can call me Remy. Most people do." She paused. "Or they did before."
"Before what?" The two teens asked simultaneously. She frowned at them, her previous expression of obvious irritation returning.
"Nothing that matters to you lot." She smoothed down the stray curls and released a deep breath. Remington felt different- her previous vitality, back before her life had went to hell, was returning. But things wouldn't stay this way, Grimm made sure of that, unless she did what he wanted.
"What really matters is protecting you and that little redhead you got up there with Mr. I use too much hair gel."
It was safe to say that the two friends were utterly confused at this point. Remington spoke in a way where she answered a question but at the same time didn't really divulge any of the needed information. She was a whirlwind of energy, Stiles could feel it, radiating from her skin and filling the air.
"Why do you want to help us exactly? I doubt it's from the kindness of your heart. So what exactly is in this for you?" Stiles shot off, his voice rising gradually. "Better yet, why should we trust some random woman that appears out of nowhere?"
Remy seemed to think for a second, her head tilted to the side as she observed him, before a suspicious grin spread over her lips, making her eyes light up in a sort of sadistic amusement.
"Because," she purred, "You have no choice. Besides, you trust me. Don't tell me you don't feel it." She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply with a look of ecstasy. "The pull you feel towards me, how I set your teeth on edge, how your whole body is alive, and your skin is electrified. Because I know I sure do."
Stiles couldn't deny what she said. He could feel the way his body was attracted to hers, or how she seemed oddly familiar to him. Being around the woman made him feel something that terrified him. For the first time in his life, Stiles was not afraid, nor did he feel weak. No, he felt strength coursing through his veins, he felt strong almost inhuman.
"That's not trust, it's attraction. And it still doesn't tell me why you want to help us." He stared at the woman, not backing down, something that surprised Allison. She had known Stiles for a while, and though she cared about him deeply, he was not one to normally be he would protect those he cared about, but he did it while looking like he would faint any second.
Remington, however, was not surprised. She felt a sense of satisfaction at the boy's steely response. It was progress. She smiled at him, a genuine smile, and her eyes glowed with excitement.
"Because you two, the redhead and you, are going to help me get my job back."
A Few Hours Before
Frustrated did not begin to describe the way Remington felt. She cursed the day she was assigned to reap the soul of Peter Hale. Had it not been for him, for that particular night, she would still be at the top of the Reaper hierarchy, not chasing after a bunch of teenagers in hopes of capturing said man's soul.
She knew it was trapped within one short redhead, the bright cerulean mass was tangled with her own fiery red soul. She could never figure out why the man, as twisted and devious as he was, had such a bright beautiful soul. She also couldn't figure how to remove it without killing the girl, something that was a big no-no. In fact, any unassigned murders were strictly against the rules, and though she was no longer a reaper, it was a one way ticket to purgatory- somewhere she most definitely did not want to be.
Sighing to herself, she walked after the girl as she made her way to class, glaring hatefully at the various teenagers that littered the halls. Though she wasn't much older than them when she obtained immortality, she had always despised their age group. Even when she had been a human they had been insufferable.
" You know I never would have imagined that you would stoop so low as to trail after a human." Remington whirled around, coming face to face with the only man that could conjure as much hate in heart as Peter Hale- her boss, The Grim Reaper. She always preferred to call him Grimm, something that had irked him endlessly.
"They're not so bad." She mused. "We were all once human." The tall man tsked lightly, his thin lips pulled up in a half smirk.
"Ah, ah. Except you weren't. Human that is." He cast his gaze along the hallway, frowning as several people passed through him. Then his expression seemed to soften into something Remy had never seen before. She tracked his gaze to the redheaded Lydia Martin.
" I have a deal for you, Remington." She turned to face the man with a tight frown.
"I'm listening." The smile that Grimm decided to grace her with would forever stay embedded in her memory for the rest of her life. She had known the Grim Reaper for a long time and in that time she had known him to smirk or grin in either sadistic glee or simple pleasure, but never had she seen him actually smile.
A cold feeling started in the pit of her stomach, but she swallowed it. If Death was willing to make a deal with her, then it was important, and it also meant that his other Collectors couldn't complete the job. Remington felt something inside her awaken as she listened Grimm's proposition.
A war is coming to Beacon Hills and she was to ensure that it would be a bloodbath.