Right Beside You | Stiles Stilinski | Two

21 - Welcome to the Jungle

My mind was reeling. The fighting had recommenced downstairs, louder now as crashes and growls echoed up the stairs, and Jackson was the kanima. Allison came charging into Scott's room, calling out to me and Stiles to warn us "it's here," and Jackson was the kanima. Erica came bursting in next, and Lydia and I listened through the door as she taunted Allison about stealing Scott, and Jackson was the kanima.

I was confused, but more than anything, I was angry. I had never hated Jackson more. I'd always joked that he wasn't capable of being a real human being, but here was the proof. Derek had said that the shape you take reflects the person you are, and Jackson was such a twisted, self-serving asshole that he couldn't even turn into a werewolf properly. He was always causing more trouble than he was worth, lashing out and bringing everyone down with him.

At the same time, I knew that part of me was really mad at myself. I should have noticed the signs. If I hadn't been so focused on hating Jackson for the way he'd treated Lydia, maybe he would've told me he'd gotten the bite. If I hadn't isolated him, maybe he wouldn't have gone through this alone. Maybe we would have saved people sooner.

"Do you think they're gone?"

I glanced down at Lydia, blinking a few times before I turned to the door. The house had sunken into an eerie silence—no bangs, no crashes, no roars. I pressed my ear to the wall, but it didn't sound like anyone was in Scott's room anymore. Either Allison and Stiles had succeeded in chasing Derek's pack off, or they were both down for the count and Derek was about to charge in, ready to kill.

"That's it," Lydia snapped. "I want to know what's going on right now."

"Wait, Lydia—"

She threw the latch on the door and was marching out before I could stop her.

"Lydia!"

I dropped the guitar I'd been holding as a weapon so I could run after her. The bedroom was empty—no kanima ready to pounce and slice, no teenage werewolves ready to maul us—but that didn't mean we were safe. I chased her down the hall, down the stairs, stumbling to a halt as a horrible screech ripped through the air. A chill shot down my spine; Jackson might've crawled out the window, but he was still here, somewhere.

"Lydia!"

"Would someone please tell me what the hell is going on?!"

I sprinted out the front door, nearly colliding with her when she stopped short on the porch. Everyone else was arranged on the front lawn. Scott, Allison and Stiles stood off to one side, while Derek and Boyd were hovering at the end of the path. At their feet, Isaac and Erica lay in a motionless pile. All of them were wearing the same kind of facial expression: horror, laced with shock as Lydia glowered down at them from the porch.

I glared at Derek's face in defiance. There was my proof. Lydia couldn't be in two places at once. Just like I'd said, she hadn't been the kanima.

"Seriously?!" Lydia stomped her foot in outrage. "You're all just gonna stand there?! Not one, single person can tell me what's going on?!"

I grabbed her arm, tugging her back a few steps. "Lydia, it's okay. Calm—"

"Do not tell me to calm down! Someone just tried to break in, Jackson is gone, and all of you are being insufferably weird again! I hate it! For once, I am begging you, tell me the truth!"

I shared a look with Scott, Stiles, and Allison. Lydia was begging me, and I was begging them. We couldn't keep pretending that nothing was going on. Lydia knew we were lying to her. Lydia was involved. We needed to tell her something.

Simultaneously, Scott, Derek, and Boyd all looked off into the distance, hearing something the rest of us couldn't.

"We need to go," Derek said firmly. He spared a look for his grounded betas, jaw clenching as he passed his car keys off to Boyd. "Get them out of here."