Fangs ⊰ d. hale ᴮᴼᴼᴷ¹

⊰eleven⊱

"Derek, how about you slow down a bit so you don't kill us?" I groaned. I was watching the speedometer gradually get higher as the Camaro sped through town and Derek's anger was washing over me so much that I felt like I was being suffocated by it. 

He was gripping the wheel so tightly that his knuckles were white and he didn't acknowledge that I had spoken to him, which was a little frustrating to be honest. 

"Derek," I urged.

He sighed and eased up a bit on the gas. His fingers uncurled from the wheel and the white on his knuckles turned tan again to match his skin tone. I wasn't even being suffocated anymore "I'm sorry. I'm just thinking about something," he said.

"Like what? Talk to me," I told him.

"The spiral. Do you know what it means?" he asked.

"A werewolf I met told me it was our sign for vendetta or revenge," I answered.

"Right. Okay, so, read the report. See who was called in about the deer?" he pointed down to the bottom of the page.

I looked down at where he was pointing and my eyes skimmed the page to see what he was was talking about. "Alan Deaton," I read out loud. "Okay, he's the vet. They thought he could give them some insight on what the whole spiral thing was about."

"And he's Scott's boss," Derek said.

I looked over at him quizzically but then I realized what he was trying to say. I looked back down at the police report and back at him, my eyes wide. "You think Deaton's the Alpha?" I inquired incredulously.

"It's a possibility," he answered with a nod. "I just want to talk to him and maybe test him to find out for sure." He pulled up front of the vet clinic. The place was deserted but it was still open and I saw the lights on inside. So I knew that Deaton was in there.

"He's here but Scott's not, which may be a good thing," Derek said as we walked up to the front door.

"Why's that?"

"Scott's a little protective of the people he loves. Especially when I'm involved," he said.

"Oh, yeah, I totally understand that," I teased. He gave me a pointed glare and I just giggled.

What the hell is going on with me?

I didn't even want to fight with him anymore. I didn't want to be mad at him, like I was too exhausted to bother with it after the night before. Our conversation in the woods opened my eyes to the parts that were left unanswered from that night. I felt better and I didn't feel the need to stay angry.

The weird sound that left my lips seemed to have done something to Derek because his glare softened a little bit and he pulled open the door to the vet's office. We walked through the gate and toward the back room. 

"Scott, you're late again. I hope this isn't getting to be a habit," I heard Deaton say as we rounded the corner. I saw the middle-aged bald man standing against the same table that we saved Derek on, writing in an animal's file.

He looked up with a faint smile on his face, but it faded when he saw us. "Can I help you?" he asked us curiously.

"I hope so," Derek stated simply. "We wanna know about the animal you found with the spiral on it's side."

Deaton furrowed his brows a bit and said, "Excuse me? What animal?" He crossed his arms as he turned his body to face us.

"Three months ago. The deer," Derek reiterated stiffly. He unfolded the police report he was holding and then held it up for Deaton to see. "You remember this?"