Chapter 9

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Stiles shot up from his pillow, eyes wide as a howl echoed in his head.

"What the hell?" He felt the sudden urge to follow the call to its owner, pulling his sneakers on.

He crawled out of his window and into the cold air of the night.

When he got to the destination of the call though, he stood frozen in the shadows.

"Who did you shoot, Kate?" The man's voice demanded, the woman - Kate - smug.

"I don't know. But whoever it was, it won't live past the next forty-eight hours." Kate smirked as Stiles hid from the two.

Hunters. He could smell it on them. It made his stomach coil in fear. He had to get out of here.

...But who did they shoot?

~~~

He got his answer on Monday when Derek Hale jumped in front of his jeep like a suicidal idiot. The cars behind him honked like mad, making him wince before hopping out,

"What are you doing here?" Stiles hissed, grunting as he pulled the fallen werewolf up.

"Help me in the car." He groaned.

"You have a crap ton to explain." Stiles carried Derek to his car. Scott, who ran up to him in the commotion, opening the door.

"What happened?" Scott inquired.

"This happened." Derek pulled back his leather sleeve with a scowl, showing the problem. His forearm bled a black with purple tinting, blue veins more prominent and growing dark.

"Oh god - that's gross." Stiles gagged.

"I have less than 7 hours, Stiles, shut up-"

"That was you?! You let that chick shoot you?" Stiles burst out in a furious whisper. He felt like he was scolding a defiant child.

"Yes, I happen to like getting shot." Derek snarled.

"Geez, calm your pride, Sourwolf." Stiles grumbled back.

"Scott!" Allison ran up to them, Stiles ripping his jacket off to cover Derek's arm in a panick. Allison gave him a strange look but dismissed it. "What happened?"

"Nothing Allison, just go back to your car-"

"Argent." Derek murmured distastefully.

"Pardon? Why do you have Derek Hale in your car?"

"Oh, it's a long, beautiful love story really, I'll tell you another time. For now, we're fine, just having a quarrel." Stiles drawled sarcastically as he crawled over Derek to sit in the drivers seat. "Going now!"

"Uh, okay... I'll see you later, Scott." Once she was out of sight, Derek grabbed Scott's hoodie before he could slip away.

"You're going to her house?" He ground out.

"Let go man!"

"Are you?" He snapped.

"Let him go, Derek." Stiles sighed.

"Yeah, so?" Scott said nervously.

"Find the bullet. Bring it to me before nine."

"Why?"

"Because if I die, I'm leaving Stiles to deal with hunters alone." He growled weakly, letting him go.

"Scott, find the bullet. I need him alive even if he is an ass." Stiles pleaded to his friend, foot resting on the pedal.

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