Alone • Liam Dunbar

Twenty-Eight

Death was meant to be inescapable.

When one thought of death, one thought of the end. They didn't dare to tempt it for fear that it would swallow them whole. It is all-consuming. Those who don't fear death are considered by most to be wild and brave.

I consider them to be idiots.

"So, let me get this straight, you want Kira to kill you in order to draw out the Benefactor on some half-baked theory that they might come to check your body for visual confirmation?"

Scott and Stiles sat across from me at the dining table in the McCall house kitchen. Their expressions held innocent stupidity, as if they didn't just tell me the worst plan they'd ever come up with.

"Yup. What do you think?" Scott responds, pretending he didn't hear my judgment.

"Forget kitsunes, I'll kill you myself, McCall," I grit out, too tired to hold my aggression.

I didn't get any sleep last night. With the Calaveras close, I didn't want them to pay me another visit while I was drooling into my pillow. I needed to be alert and ready for anything. I also had to scrub Miles' blood out of my carpet.

When the sun finally rose over the town, I figured I could use the daylight as a safety net to get a bit of rest. That idea was promptly interrupted by Stiles blowing up my phone. He texted over and over again, saying I needed to get to Scott's immediately to hear their ingenious plan to catch the Benefactor. Now that I actually did, I regretted not blocking Stiles months ago.

"He won't technically be dead," the Stilinski boy says, taking my attention away from Scott.

"You won't technically get a concussion if I hit you over the head with a pipe. Should I still do it?" I snapped at him, mildly irritated with how casual he was being.

Stiles pauses, an offended frown on his face.

"That's a little aggressive," he mutters.

I rise from my seat out of frustration, needing to move around to cope. Stiles instantly ducks toward Scott, assuming I was getting up to hit him. I scoff at his reaction before I start to pace, thinking everything over.

Their plan was ridiculous, sure, but we were desperate.

With all three parts of the Dead Pool revealed, things were bound to go downhill. It was only a matter of time before someone tried to come after Scott's pack again, and I wasn't sure if we were ready to take another hit so soon.

"Jac, he's the highest on the list. If the Benefactor is going to come for anyone, it's him," Stiles starts again. 

"We got lucky yesterday. Simon could have killed everyone instead of weeding them out, but he was discreet and that saved lives. What if next time, we aren't that lucky?" 

I stop pacing, facing him and Scott with a contemplative expression. The two of them don't stop, seeing that the foundation of my refusal was starting to crack. 

"We can do this," Scott presses. "But only if we work together."

The thought of him dying was unbearable, but as Stiles said, he wouldn't technically be dead. We'd also executed worse plans than this, and it's not like we had the time to come up with a better one with new assassins joining the field.

I take a moment to memorize Scott; his breath, the vibrancy of his skin, and the life in his eyes. I would need this image of his to get me through tonight. 

"I told you I'd follow you anywhere," I say to him. 

Scott smiles as he understands what my words truly mean.