Blood Runs Cold

Chapter Five

Lydia had been correct about the werewolf guard that would be posted. Stiles figured he shouldn't have been surprised since Lydia was usually right.

The werewolf on guard duty that night turned out to be Isaac who looked at Stiles with furrowed brows as he hopped out of Chris's car.

"Where have you been?" The interrogation started immediately, Stiles really shouldn't have been surprised. Hell, if it had been Derek there, he'd probably have had a nose on his neck, trying to see if he reeked of Peter. Which he probably did, just not for the reason that everyone had been assuming.

"Shouldn't you be macking on Allison?" Stiles asked before turning to the car. "Thanks for the ride, Chris."

Isaac flushed, "Seriously, dude? In front of him ?"

Stiles felt like he had taken a step back to sophomore year at the sight of Chris's smile. "Good night, Isaac," Chris called. Scott had told him in detail about the disastrous night at the Argent's for dinner back when Kate shot Derek and he couldn't help wonder how many dinners like that Isaac had sat through with Chris and Allison.

Chris drove off and Stiles fixed Isaac with a glare. "I don't need a werewolf bodyguard to keep Peter from coming over and, to answer your earlier question, I was helping Chris out with a hunt."

Isaac frowned, "Stiles we're worried about you. Like— this is Peter we're talking about."

Stiles unlocked his front door and scowled at Isaac. "I appreciate the concern but I can promise you I know full well what — and who — I'm doing." He paused before opening the door. "Just go back to Scott's, Isaac. The only thing I'm planning on doing tonight is sleeping."

Isaac had that kicked puppy look on his face that wrenched Stiles' heart. "Scott's worried about you."

Those words were a gut punch.

"I'm fine, dude, I promise," Stiles said gently and walked into his house, shutting the door behind him. He knew Isaac was still waiting outside the door, concern plastered all over his features.

"The puppies care about you." Peter's cool voice made Stiles nearly jump out of his skin. "It's really quite sweet."

"What the hell are you doing here?" Stiles hissed. There was no way in hell Peter didn't know that the pack was going to keep Stiles' place under strict supervision to make it a No Zombie Werewolf Zone.

"You were distressed tonight, it'd be irresponsible of me if I didn't make sure you were okay." Peter walked out of the dark and laid his hand under Stiles' chin, tilting it up. "We are pack afterall."

Stiles brushed Peter's hand away. "As I'm sure you heard me telling Isaac, I'm fine, Peter."

Stiles had hoped that Peter would drop the matter, but of course he didn't. "You just watched five people get viciously murdered. I don't have to be a werewolf to tell how rattled it got you."

"I lived through the Nogitsune bombing the station in my body, I'm fine."

Peter grabbed Stiles by the back of his neck and led him through his house with such familiarity that it made him feel vaguely nauseated. "You're not fine, Stiles, you smell like the complete opposite of fine right now."

"I could scream for Isaac and he'd rip your throat out right now."

"Then do it." Peter spun Stiles around in front of his bedroom door so he could stare into his eyes. "Call for him right now, I'll even stand still and help him rip my throat out."

Stiles worked his jaw and glared at Peter. "Just leave, Peter."

"I will if you answer this question for me." Peter laid a hand on the wall behind Stiles. "Why do you hate me?"