CHAPTER 96

Throughout the rest of the following periods, Tristan's mind went back to his conversation with Marin Morrell and he still couldn't make out head or tails of what exactly she wanted.

He doubted it was just for the simple reason of helping out a sick student or anything of that nature. He had absolutely nothing on that claim except that his instincts felt so. 

And the thing that cemented that thought was that something out of the natural was happening with Lydia and if Satomi's words rang true, then Lydia wasn't some druid or mystic, but a banshee. 

A creature that can see, predict and cause the death of people around her. 

Now you see why he was very skeptical of all this? 

The timing of all this set off more than a few warning bells that he fully believe were ringing true but the thing about vampires that he had discovered a little while back was that just like werewolves were known to be impulsive and prone to run berserk once set off, vampires had what was called a natural flaw. Something that balanced the scales of their existence, so to speak. 

What then was this natural flaw? Of course it was none other than his lowered sense of danger. 

Not in the sense that he had trouble sensing an attack aimed at him, which obviously couldn't be the case as he boasted an agility only surpassed by the kanima, but the fact that even after identifying a threat around him, he forts thought would be that there was no reason he would be attacked. 

No matter how much he tried, he just found it hard to react to a threat unless it attacked him first. 

Allison was a different case because he truly had no idea and when he did, she was already his and Malia's friend. 

He even did the same thing with the guidance counselor, Marin Morrell, who despite knowing something was sketchy about her, just found the easier choice to keep to himself and hoped she minded hers, which she obviously didn't. 

"What's gotten you so gloomy? I mean extra gloomy." Boyd's voice cut his thoughts of worry, making him momentarily shelve them aside to think of them later. Probably when he got nothing else to think about. 

"It's a bit complicated." Tristan simply said, tossing the thought to the backseat and took the front. "What are you up to?"

"Nothing much. Coach called off training for this week and even when me and some of the boys tried just tossing the ball around, it just felt somewhat dry." He dropped his bag to his sigh frustratingly. "I doubt training will be back to what it used to be."

"Probably not." Tristan hummed. The lacrosse players were the ones affected by Jackson's death the most. He had led them to winning championships as their star player and captain before Tristan and McCall came along. 

He had more rapport with the players, just after Coach, and he was hell of a good captain all things considered. 

"I'm not even in the mood to do anything else, at least for another week." Boyd said in a downcast voice and took out a bottle of water to drink. "What about you? Got anything better to do than just moping around?"

Tristan was about to answer when Boyd continued and spoke as if he just said something stupid and obvious. "Of course, you don't. You looked more gloomy than I did when I came here."

They were sitting on the bleachers of the basketball court with a few other students scantily scattered around the hall, some just keeping to themselves like Tristan while others were hanging out with their friends like Boyd was currently doing. 

The two of them fell into a momentary silence that didn't last more than a few moments as someone came to join them. Two someones. 

"Hey guys." Boyd greeted them since they were by his side which made the two people who just came identify Boyd and returned the greeting. 

They had already sat down when they noticed the person sitting next to Boyd and stilled for a minute before taking their seats as if nothing happened. 

Scott and Stiles haven't been having the best of days recently. Well mostly Stiles since Scott was actually stress-free at the moment except for one pressing issue. 

Stiles on the other hand looked irritably fed up as not only did his dad lose his job, two members of their team died and even though they knew who probably did it, they couldn't do anything about it. Plus something was wrong with Lydia. 

He had visited a few days ago and her situation wasn't good at all. What worried him even more were the pieces of paper with 'questionable' pictures and 'thought provoking' words. 

As usual, Scott had absolutely no idea of what was going on and even when they tried getting in touch with Derek, they couldn't find him. It's like he and his pack just upped and disappeared. 

The future at this very moment looked very cloudy for him. 

He stole a glance at Tristan who just continued sitting there with his head raised up and lost in his thoughts with the look of it. 

"How is it going, Boyd? You guys don't look so good, at least that's something everybody agrees on." Stiles opened up a friendly conversation just to pass time since it was the reason they were here in the first place. 

Boyd deflated at Stiles' question that perfectly hit home despite the sarcasm in it. Hell, even that hit home too. 

"What about you guys? What are you doing now?" Boyd asked the two of them. 

"Us? Well for starters, we are trying to solve an existential crisis and we are halfway there. Second is guessing our decision of if high school was actually worth coming to." Stiles said with a cherry tone that didn't tell of his inner struggles. 

"What of him?" He asked, pointing at Tristan who just sat there motionlessly since the beginning. 

"Him? I have absolutely no idea. He's been like that since I came here." Boyd said. 

Not much later, Tristan just stood up and told Boyd that they'd catch up some other time and left, not even caring of the presence of Scott and Stiles. 

"Ah! Look at him go. He's about to face the world with a big 'fuck you', I tell you." Stiles said with good humor, shaking his head as if he was of an older generation acknowledging the drive of the young challenger of this great game called life. 

….. 

[The Argents House] 

It was currently night time, over a quarter past nine, when Gerard and Chris came back from their separate outings but coincidentally pulled off the driveway at the same time. 

"We need to talk." Chris said with a grave voice, one that perfectly mirrored the dark look on his face. 

Gerard didn't say anything and just walked inside the house, silently acknowledging whatever it was that Chris was adamant on talking about. 

Dinner was awkward and silent and a tacit agreement was reached as everybody did nothing to break it and just rushed their dinner and went straight to bed, leaving the two men sitting opposite each other to carry on with whatever they wanted to talk about. 

"Why are you still keeping the betas alive and torturing them? They should have been killed off by now, including Derek, most especially Derek. We've had our revenge for Kate, despite her wrongdoings, no need to drag this any further than it has the right to be." Chris asked. 

While he was more than ready to get his dirty as many times that it took, he had absolutely no passion lost for pointless torture when the goal has already being achieved. 

"And you think I don't know that? What I do with Derek and his pack of domesticated dogs should no longer be of any importance to you. I have my own plans for Derek and till then, his life and death, including those of his betas, are mine to decide." 

Gerard's slow spoken reply and the cold steel gaze of his eyes as he stared at Chris, who matched it with his and more, already told Chris that his interference on this matter wouldn't be condoned. 

Chris sneered as he looked at Gerard and asked his main question. "And Allison? Is your dear granddaughter also a part of your 'plan'?"

"I fail to see the issue with your question. Is she not supposed to lead the family in the coming future? What problems do you have with the future leader of the Argent Hunting Family learning from the most experienced member of the family?" Though he completely dodged Chris' questions, he raised up a vital one as if asking if his own son had a problem with him teaching his only granddaughter. 

"You will push her too far to the point she'd be left as nothing but a living carcass of who once was!" Chris' voice went up a few octaves as he banged on the table between them, anger apparent in his eyes. 

In response to his son's blatant accusation, Gerard's voice too raised as his anger spiked. "How dare you! You dare say I'd willingly destroy a child of my own blood?!"

In response to Gerard's outburst, Chris laughed darkly with pain and sadness evident in his eyes. "As if you didn't do that to Kate already. Whatever you taught her warped her so much that she didn't even think twice about burning down a house full of children! Innocent children!"

Gerard spat out in disgust. "Bah! What innocence? They are children of werewolves, sooner or later they will follow in the predecessors claw prints and take the lives of innocents!"

"They were children!" Chris finally couldn't anymore and shouted at the top of his voice that that whole house definitely heard. He took a deep breath and continued in a much lower tone. "There is a reason for the code and why we follow it. We hunt those who hunt us, we always have, for centuries. And yet it means nothing to you."

"Be careful of your next words, Christopher!" Gerard gravely warned but Chris couldn't care less about any of his warnings, not when this concerns his precious daughter. 

"Whatever sick plans you have for Derek and his pack, keep Allison out of it. I'll be supervising her training and capabilities from now on. I'll be the one to decide when she's ready to take up the mantle." 

With his final piece said, Chris walked out on Gerard and went straight to retire to bed in the worst of moods 

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