As the lines between good and evil were blurred and new, unlikely alliances were formed, there were very few things keeping Carson Bradley sane. But sometimes, even sanity was not enough to win a war when there was already so much blood raining down...
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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE SUPERNATURAL REFERENCES
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"You know, the last time we were here, it was because we had to cut Derek's arm off," I mused, as we waited fort Deaton to come back with whatever he was looking for.
"And?" Scott asked me, leaning his elbows on one of the examination tables.
"I'm just saying, if this leads to a deranged wolf wanting me to sever one of his limbs, I'm out," I told him and Stiles seriously. They didn't seem to take it that seriously, both beginning to chuckle at me.
I rolled my eyes as I leaned back against a counter. We were all gathered in the backroom of Beacon Hill's veterinary office. Deaton said that he had something that could potentially help us rein in Jackson when we find him tonight at the rave. He said there were a few other small things we could use in our endeavors, but he chose not to tell us anything other than that.
None of us really knew anything about Deaton, but it was an unspoken rule that we trusted him more than a lot of the people who were tied up in the supernatural like us. He tended to always help Scott in a time of need, so he was kind of cemented as our weird, riddle-speaking, vet guide. Seriously, he should just get a new sign proclaiming: Beacon Hills Vet and Supernatural Guide. Get your dog checked while I help you take down a mass-murdering lizard. Then again, he might lose business over that.
The door swung open and aforementioned vet came in, carrying a couple things. He smiled at the three of us before setting them on the table. He ushered us over with a wave of his hand and we formed a small semi-circle around the table.
"This will help with the kanima problem," Deaton smiled, holding up a small bottle and what looked like a syringe with some kind of spring mechanism attached to it.
"Ketamine?" Scott asked.
"What, you want us to sedate him?" I questioned, with a raised eyebrow.
"It's the same stuff we use on the dogs, just a higher dosage," Deaton told me. "If you can get close enough to Jackson, it should slow him down enough to buy you some time."
Scott grabbed the syringe off the counter and nodded. Deaton gave a small nod back before plucking a jar off the counter. It was small, but much larger than the ketamine vile. It had a weird symbol on the front, a vertical black line with two horizontal ones jutting out towards the right side. And it looked like it was filled with black sand.
"May I ask how a jar of black sand is going to help?"
"It's Mountain Ash, actually. This is some of what you will use to create the barrier. This part is for you, Stiles," he told us, pointing at my boyfriend. He set it back down. "Only you."
