Deception || s. stilinski [2]

conflit

strife

"Bea?"

The comforting voice of Noah Stilinski travels through the house as the front door bursts open. Upstairs, Bea still sits on the floor, tears making trails down her cheeks and a dark bruise forming around her neck. She hears several sets of footsteps pound up the stairs, but Noah's face is the first one she sees pop through the door.

He's quick to kneel to the ground next to her, letting a gentle hand rest on her shoulder. "I saw everything through the camera," the man informs, his eyes focused on the darkening skin of her neck, the shape of fingers starting to appear. She doesn't miss the way his jaw clenches. "Are you okay?"

Her nod is hesitant, and her hands shake at her sides. "I will be," she answers, her voice hoarse and throat scratchy. From behind Noah, Allison winces at the sound, her brown eyes sadly trained on her friend.

Noah helps Bea stand from the ground as Argent and Derek stroll around Stiles' room, their eyes flitting around the room. "What is all this?" Argent questions, walking over to a chessboard where all the pieces have sticky tabs attached to them. "What are all the sticky notes for?"

"This is what Stiles used to try and explain to me about all of you," Noah explains, letting Allison take Bea's hand as he joins the other men at the chessboard.

"Maybe it's a message from Stiles. The real Stiles," Bea suggests hopefully, ignoring the grimaces she receives from the others at the sound of her voice.

"You think there's any reason my name's on the king?" Derek inquires, eyeing the piece with a side glance.

"Well, you're heavily guarded," Stilinski starts, very familiar with the game of chess. "Though, I guess the alarming detail is that you're one move away from being in checkmate."

"It's not a message from Stiles," Argent denies, deflating Bea's hopefulness. "It's a threat from the Nogitsune. He's at the loft. That's what he's trying to tell us."

"And he wants us to go there," Bea finishes, looking out the window at the setting sun. A chill runs down her spine as she figures out his plan almost instantly. Good work, Beatrice. Will I see you there? She breathes out through her nose, her jaw clenched. "The sun's setting. The Oni will be after him soon."

"This couldn't sound any more like a trap," Argent voices.

"I don't think it is," Noah throws out.

"I think your opinion might be slightly biased, Sheriff," Chris throws back, his tone harsh. Bea lets her sapphire eyes fall into a glare at the man, his combative attitude testing her patience.

Noah holds his hand out, urging the man to be patient. "Hear me out. What we're dealing with here is basically someone who lacks motive. No rhyme, no reason, right?"