Arsonist's Lullaby ; Teen Wolf

[ p r o l o g u e ]

Disclaimer: I don't own the show Teen Wolf or any of it's characters or plot. I do, however, own Wes Argent and his original lines and just general awesomeness.

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"And you're sure you don't wanna drive?"

I gave my mother a flat look, raising my eyebrows. "Mom, if I wanted to drive, pretty sure I would be holding you at gun point until you hand over the keys," I snapped, sarcasm lacing every word.

She chuckled, shaking her head. "You are so my kid," she muttered, just like every other time I used the wit that I truly did get from spending most of my life with her.

I let a smirk tip up the side of my mouth; I glanced out my window, before looking back at my mother and freezing.

Half-hidden by the trees was a big, black animal that looked suspiciously like a wolf. I couldn't see it too well, but I could make out the blazing red eyes.

Like fire.

"Mom," I whispered, grabbing her wrist. She glanced at me, her eyes wide. "Wes, what's wrong?" She asked, her gaze flicking between me and the road.

I nodded at her window. "Alpha," I said simply. But it was already gone.

She pressed her lips into a thin line, quickly looking around at the dark trees. My mom and I trusted each other, and we trusted each other's senses, even if we didn't always agree on things.

I let my gaze travel back to the road, gasping when I saw a pickup pull out in front of us. "Mom!" I yelled.

She slammed her foot down on the brakes, flinging out an arm to keep me in my seat.

I sighed, giving her a sarcastic glare. "Nice driving, Kate," I told her. Mom rolled her eyes, sighing.

"Are you okay? Nothing hurt, or-" The glass shattered, a black, furry arm reaching into the SUV and gripping her shoulder.

I reacted quickly, unbuckling my seatbelt and reaching into the backseat for the rifle my mother kept loaded at all times.

I aimed at the top of the car, shooting a couple rounds before handing Mom the gun.

"Call Chris," she snapped as she got out of the car, loading another round.

I reached into the backseat again, finding my cell phone and quickly dialing my uncle's phone number.

"Wes? What's wrong?" Uncle Chris demanded as soon as he picked up.

I craned my neck, looking for my mom. "Uh, pretty sure we just met your Alpha. I hate him, by the way," I added, opening my car door.

Chris chuckled. "I'm on my way. What street?"

I rattled off the name I'd seen on a street sign we'd passed a little while back as Mom aimed her gun and pulled the trigger.

My eyes widened when I saw the open box of Nordic Blue Monkshood bullets in the trunk, a single bullet missing.

"Uh, Mom?" I called, gesturing at the box. She scowled, coming closer.

"I thought I told you to stay in the car," she snapped, looking around warily.

I rolled my eyes. "Did you get him?" I asked, closing the trunk door.

My mom scowled again, glancing over her shoulder. "I think I hit a Beta," she murmured, before looking back to me. "Chris said there were two Betas, and an Alpha- one of the Betas was bigger than the other," she added.

I frowned. "I'm gonna go take a look." I pulled out my .45 from my waistband, holding it expertly as I ignored my mother's protests and crept forward.

I pressed my lips into a grim line when I saw the young man laying on the ground, his teeth clenched together in pain.

My gaze traveled past him, to a figure about my height, half-hidden behind a wall.

I took a step forward, cocking my head. It was a boy, with thick, curly hair and tan-skin. I could just make out his crooked jaw.

"Wes..." the man on the ground grunted, attracting my attention. My eyes widened as I saw who it was.

"Derek, what the hell?" I whispered, crouching down next to him.

The Hale glared at me, baring his teeth. "You're a son of a bitch, you know that, right?" He glowered pointedly at the .45 in my hands, making me scoff quietly.

"Says the werewolf," I retorted, leaning forward to look at the bullet wound in his forearm.

Derek grunted, pulling himself away. "I don't need your help, Argent," he growled, narrowing his eyes in a glare.

I had just opened my mouth to protest when I heard Uncle Chris's voice: "Wes, you alright?"

I glanced over my shoulder, before standing up. "Yeah, I'm fine," I called, walking back towards the SUV with a pointed look at Derek and a glance at the boy hidden behind the wall.

My mom pulled me into her side, her light green eyes filled with relief. "Did you see anything?" She asked as Chris smiled at me.

I instantly shook my head. "No, nothing. Whoever you shot made a run for it," I said, holding out my hand for Chris to shake.

He did, before turning his stern gaze on my mother. "How long does he have?" He demanded, gently pushing me towards his own SUV.

She shrugged, shouldering her rifle. "Maybe forty-eight hours?" She didn't sound positive.

I glanced over my shoulder, suddenly concerned for the bitter werewolf she'd shot.

Chris sighed. "Will you please put away the assault rifle before someone notices?" He snapped as I got into his car.