Like Fallen Angels

Chapter Five

"So basically, we don't have any idea what's happening."

I heard some of the werewolves fume as the meeting commensed. I could recognize Scott's desire to organise a meeting, but privately I was a bit condenseding. We had no real information, only disappearances and questions to marvel at. The moon had dipped lower in the sky and was muffled by a hazy light which hinted at a looming sunrise. It had been a waste of a night.

"So are you going to stick around?" The abrupt comment was hurled from a guy ascending from my left. I clenched my jaw and pivoted slightly on my heel.

"Haven't decided yet." I gave him a once -over, eyes flickering over my confronter. His dark sandy hair was slicked up in an exaggerated cowlick which was complimented by deep brown eyes that glinted with distrust and curiosity. I took care to note his flannel which was slavishly adorned in a fashion that neglected a couple buttons.

"But more importantly," I wet my lips and took a step forward. "What are you doing here, human?"

His mouth curved in condescending smile. "Just because I'm human doesn't make me worthless, you know."

"That's not what I meant." My tone involuntarily hushed. "I mean why are you here." The words were heavy between us and the guy blinked and softened and held my gaze with those dark eyes.

"Because I care."

I nod, because there's nothing else to do. The unspoken words slip between us in a silence that roars with emotion.

I never met a human who cared. Mine ran away.

"Stiles." He slings his arm around my shoulder like its the most natural thing in the world. "I'm Stiles."

"Alex."

He keeps me in his grasp as we decend down the cobblestone walkway. The others spill out of the front door behind us and jostle their way to the parked cars.

"There's a lot of them here." I murmur under my breath, hastily tallying ten.

"There's about fourteen of us. Some are more powerful and involved than others. But it works, you know? Makes us stronger."

I don't doubt this, the supernatural have a tendency to ban together. Fortify themselves and unite in a fashion similar to family. Most tend to then thrive under the radar. It works out.

Then years drag on and some move for mundane reasons. The leftovers scourge for new members to reinstate the abandoned positions. Sometimes this means enticing a rouge - but other options aren't always as innocent.

Traditionally, its one pack for every town. But variables can alter - the mortal residence place harsher restrictions and laws that threaten our ability to hide out powers. Other supernaturals find themselves enlightened to the possibilities and opportunities that reside in another town occupied by a different pack and want it for themselves. So there is shifting and relocation and fights and family.

Different actors, different stages, but the script is unflinching.

"Is that it? You guys done for the night?" High heel boots click on the pavement as a girl bounces up to us. Her blonde, bombshell curles catch the streaking lights issued from the street lamp and her large almond eyes flash with energy. Stiles issues a good-natured groan.

"Errrricaaaa. It's like two in the morning."

"It's a friday."

"It's still two."

"It's still a friday."

Stiles grumbles incoherently as the girl Erica fastens her attention onto myself.

"Alex, right?" She smiles. "You like the beach, don't you?"

I raise an eyebrow. The intentions I had of an detached and passive demeanor are evaporating like water on hot pavement.

"I - um-"

Erica loops her arm arond mine and tugs me away from Stiles. "She's with me." The blonde anounces. Stiles catches my eye and shakes his head, smiling.

"Jackson, Lydia, Scott! You guys coming or what?!" A choras greets her invintation and before I know it I'm infront of my highalnder and Stiles is telling me to follow his powder blue jeep before he dashes to his vehical.
The air, before heavy and melancholy has lightened and sparking with energy and laughter. I have a fleeting thought about how much the neighbors are hating us right now.

Then I see them, veering off of the walk and in the direction of a red BMW.

"Hey!" I don't know what I'm doing - I absolutely loath drawing attention to myself. But tonight I'm feeling more ok than I have in a while and my arms are over my head and waving through the muggy air. "HEY!"

The twins stop and look - the shorter meeting my gaze head on while his brother seems all to fastenated with the ground.

"We're - I think - we're going to a beach." I splutter. "Wanna come?"

And thenshorter one opens his mouth, but before he can respond the taller cuts in first.

"We're good."

And that's it. I think the shorter flashes me an apologetic smile as his twin directs him to the car. I feel myself deflate and my cheeks burn at the cool rejection. I had thought....

Stiles pulls up next to me and layes on the horn, loud. I take a deep breath
and meet his smile while flashing him the middle finger. Whatever. I'm going to have a fun night.

That catches me off gaurd. Since when have I had a good night?

And now Stiles is honking again and I can hear Erica laughing to my left and the niehgbors lights are switching on and then I'm in my car peeling down the road.