21: The Game Night [1]
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The Sheriff's department and my dad were both present. Scott stood next to my Jeep, observing as my dad escorted Derek into the car with his hands cuffed, while Tara watched the forensic team at the pit.
I sauntered over to the car, ignoring Scott's silent warning not to approach Derek, and slipped into the front seat.
Turning around, I found Derek grumpily sitting behind the bars, shooting me a cold glare.
"Okay, I get it, being quiet and creepy is your thing, but just this once, break character." I said with a shrug. Derek responded with a growl, but I pressed on. "I have a few questions before they take you in."
He remained silent, lips sealed tight.
"Fine. Scott and I were bitten the same day. Why is he affected while I'm not completely?" I asked, firing off my questions. "What's happening to me? Am I immune? Can I become immune?"
Derek stayed silent, his face showing a hint of confusion.
"Tell me!" I yelled, banging on the bars. His eyes snapped to mine, a dangerous glint in them, like he was ready to break free and tear my face off.
We both knew he could easily break the cuffs, but we also knew he wouldn't.
"I don't know." He finally spat out, breaking his silence.
I stared into his eyes, unflinching. A moment later, I took a breath and blinked away, ending our standoff.
My attention shifted to the pit, where my dad had finished his work and was heading towards the car. Time was running out.
"The girl." I said, pointing at the pit, grabbing Derek's attention once more. "She's your sister, right? Laura?"
His eyes twitched with rage at the revelation.
"She was a werewolf too, wasn't she? But a different kind." I added cautiously. "I mean, she could turn into an actual wolf. I know Scott can't do that."
His breaths grew heavier as he closed in on me, his eyes flickering gold.
"You know, you really fit the stereotypical killer checklist." I smirked, listing off the traits. "Creep? Check. Emo? Check. Extremely antisocial? Super check. But for some reason, I don't think you did it. She was your only living family after you lost everyone in the fire."
For the first time in our conversation, I moved closer to him.
"Tell me, Derek, did you actually kill your sister?"
If there was somebody with a knife in the car, they could have literally cut down the tension but instead of a knife, the one who broke it was someone with a gun.
"Ouch, ouch, ouch." I fake cried as my dad yanked me out of the car and dragged me out of the car and away from Derek.
"Stand there." He grunted, releasing his grip. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"I'm just trying to help." I shrugged.
He gave me a nod that clearly said 'I don't believe you.' "Well, how about you help me understand exactly how you came across this?"
I took a deep breath before explaining. "We were looking for Scott's inhaler."
"Which he dropped when?" He raised an eyebrow.
"The other night." I replied casually.
"The other night you were out here looking for the first half of the body."
"Yes." I shrugged again.
"The night you told me you were alone and Scott was at home."
"Yes." I nodded before my eyes widened in realization. "No. Oh crap."
"So you lied to me." He summarized, not showing much anger or disappointment, clearly used to my antics.
"That depends on how you define lying." I quickly retorted, trying to come up with a clever response.
"Well, I define it as not telling the truth. How do you define it?"
I paused for a moment before throwing out an answer. "Mm, reclining your body in a horizontal position?"
He shook his head, giving up in defeat. "Get the hell out of here."
"Absolutely." I replied, already walking away before he finished speaking.
—----
"I can't find anything about Wolfsbane being used for burial." Scott announced, scrolling through his phone. I scoffed as I drove through the forest.
"Just keep looking." Tara replied from the back. "It could be a skill rather than a ritual, something you have to learn."
"I'll put it on my to-do list." Scott muttered, pocketing his phone and sighing as he leaned back in his seat. "Right underneath figuring out how the hell I'm playing this game tomorrow night."
"What's wrong, Stiles?" Tara asked, noticing my silence since we left.
"What did he say?" Scott chimed in. I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel, debating whether to answer or let the silence linger before deciding to break it.
"Nothing." I shrugged. "I asked him why I wasn't shifting, but he played dumb, so that was a waste."
"Anything about why he killed his sister?" Scott asked again.
I shook my head, lips pursed.
"Speaking of which." Tara interjected, "What's the difference in symptoms between the two of you? If we can find the distinguishing factor, maybe we can figure out what's happening with Stiles."
"Ah." Scott and I glanced at each other before nodding. "Sure."
I'd gone through this exercise countless times in my mind, but maybe having someone else analyze it would yield different results. Tara might notice something I'd overlooked.
"First." I began, retracing my steps to day one, "The scars healed overnight. Bite marks just disappeared."
"Uh-huh." Tara nodded, jotting notes as I spoke.
"Then I had these intrusive thoughts followed by sudden rage outbursts." I continued, emphasizing the words.
"Thoughts like what?" Tara asked.
"Like." I sighed in frustration before answering, "Ramming Jackson's car and strangling Lydia."
"Could have followed them through?" Tara mumbled, her words barely audible, but my sharp hearing caught them.
"What?" I raised an eyebrow, unsure if I heard her correctly.
"Nothing. Continue." She shrugged, motioning for me to go on.
"He said he blacked out on the field once." Scott added.
"Hmm, did you feel anything odd when that happened?" Tara inquired.
"I don't know, it just felt like an extended blink from my perspective, but..." I trailed off, trying to recall the incident.
"But what?" Tara pressed.
"I think I heard a few words in a language I wasn't familiar with."
"Can you remember what they were?"
"No, they're too vague now." I shook my head.
Hmm, that's odd. I don't usually forget things like that.
"Anyway, I had a dream about meeting a masochistic doppelganger of mine." I continued, recalling one of my weirdest lucid dreams. "And finally, the Black Flame."
"The Black Flame?" Tara asked, puzzled.
"Yeah, when Scott tried to kill me, they instinctively..." I began.
"He what?!!!" Tara screamed, making me slam on the brakes in panic.
We jerked forward before settling back into our seats.
"Yeah, not his finest moment." I smirked, scratching my head.
"I can't believe you." Tara muttered, shooting daggers at Scott. "Have you tried to use them again?"
"No, as I was saying, they instinctively came up to protect me. I tried to conjure them, but it didn't work." I clarified.
"Hmm, I need some time to work this out." Tara mumbled, already lost in thought.
"Fine, and we need to focus on the game tomorrow night." Scott pointed out.
I pursed my lips and shrugged.
"Sure."
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