The Hellhound's Mate

Angie's Return - Part 9

Derek's loft was dark as Jennifer's wedged heels clicked as she made her way down the stairs, the storm beginning to thunder beyond his windows. "Derek!" she called into the blackness. "Derek, where are you?!"

"Right here," he replied as he emerged from the room beyond another sliding door.

"Thank god," she cried with relief as she threw her arms around him, and he hugged her back. "Something happened at the recital," she confessed as she pulled back. "At the school. Ok, I need to tell you before you hear it, before you hear it from any of them."

"From who?" Derek wondered, his eyes trained solely on her.

"Scott, Stiles...the girl they're with," she answered. "They're gonna tell you things. Things you can't believe. You have to trust me. Ok? You trust me."

"What is it?" he pressed, marred with concern as he seemed to evade the question.

"Promise you'll listen to me," she begged, breathlessly.

"I promise."

His voice was so soft, so sincere, just as sincere as the kiss he gave her when she closed the distance between their lips. But just as she was the one to come here and kiss him, she was also the one to pull away when something didn't feel right.

Her hands recoiled from around his neck. "They're already here, aren't they?" she realised.

Derek looked over to the other side of the room, where Scott, Stiles and Angie now stood under the brick arch. Angie held Stiles' hand, her eyes glowing red with rage. As much as regaining her memories had changed her, she found herself itching to spill blood, especially the blood of the woman who ripped her family apart again. If Stiles let go, only one woman would be left standing.

"So...they told you it was me? That I'm the one taking people?" she said, not looking at anyone, and Angie could smell the lies she was trying to form in her head.

"We told him you're the one killing people," Scott corrected.

Jennifer scoffed. "Oh, that's right. Committing human sacrifices? What, cutting their throats? Yeah, I probably do it on my lunch hour-- that way, I can get back to teaching high school English the rest of the day. Makes perfect sense."

It wasn't the way that Stiles squeezed her hand that set her off, but rather the crack in his voice and the smell of the salt tears as he asked, "Where's my dad?" that had Angie shifting.

"How should I know?" and it was the conviction in her lie that had a manic and animalistic roar tearing itself from Angie's throat.

"If you hurt him, you're gonna end up back in the woods covered in scratch marks and this time, you won't survive," she threatened.

Jennifer whirled back to the one person she believed to still be on her side. "Derek, tell me you don't believe this," she begged.

Derek glanced once. He glanced once, not just at the enraged look on his best friend's face, but at the silent tears that were still gathering in Stiles's eyes. He glanced at them once before he turned back to Jennifer and asked, "Do you know what happened to their father?"

"No," she answered, sounding as if she was on the verge of crying.

"Ask her why she almost killed Lydia," Scott said.

"Lydia Martin?" Jennifer questioned. "I don't know anything about that!"

"What do you know?" Derek asked, sterner this time and some of the anger in Angie's eyes faded, the red reverting back to brown as she sensed her friend's heartbreak. It was like the night she turned all over again.