Violent Creatures ➣ Teen Wolf

45;

45; Burn

El studied the group of people gathered in Derek's loft. So different all of them. Some whom she likely wouldn't have associated with in another life. But she was beginning to see how that meant absolutely nothing, because this was her life. Filled of danger, wonder, and monsters.

To her left Parrish watched them all too with wide eyes. He stood there, an anomaly to them all, somehow unburnt and whole in the aftermath of his attempted murder. She couldn't fathom what he had endured. What unbearable fear he must have felt to sit in that car drenched in gasoline and only hear his own screams above the raging fire. El didn't ask if he'd felt any pain, she knew what it was like to burn.

And though she was overwhelmed with relief that he somehow emerged from those flames without a mark, a part of her grieved at what that meant. He was like them, a creature of some sort, and forever at risk. This was only the first attempt on his life, it definitely wouldn't be the last.

Scott smiled when he caught her eye, a means of reassurance and affection just for her. He saw the turmoil swirling within. It was in him too. El clung to the simple gesture, she knew she would need as much strength she could draw on in the days ahead. Things were only going to get worse.

Derek was frowning as he examined Parrish's unmarred skin. An expression she never thought she would come to adore, but she loved him just as she did her brothers. One of whom stood beside her scowling with his arms crossed over his chest. Between him and Derek, she didn't know who was grumpier. Paul didn't attempt to conceal the weapons secured to his body. Guns were strapped to his thigh and waist, and the handle of a long dagger protruded from beneath his sweater. To anyone else he would have appeared threatening and unpleasant, intimidating in ways that even Derek wasn't, but to El he was her guardian. A protector even when she didn't know it.

Even from those who seemed an unlikely threat.

El glimpsed at the girl across from her. A banshee. Someone who didn't need to see a body to know death had come. Of course, it would be one of them behind the dead pool. And probably Lydia's grandmother no less. It was the only significant revelation from Scott's near death experience.

How had they not figured it out sooner? How had she not seen it?

El couldn't say she was surprised. Maybe Lydia was behind it too. She certainly disliked El enough to keep her out of the pack knowing it would bring about her own death. It wasn't irrational to assume she may want to hasten her demise, was it? How fortunate it would be to have trained killers lurking in Beacon Hills, she wouldn't even have to get her hands dirty. No one would ever know.

Those were the paranoid thoughts filling her head. All sense of logic was lost with the voices making their scarce appearance in her head. Harbinger of death, the chorus hissed, neither masculine or feminine. El recoiled each time, shuddering at the sensation of hot air brushing against her ears.

"I was set on fire. All of me should be gone."

Scott shook his head, "not if you're like us."

"Like you?"

Derek released Parrish's, "I don't think he's like us."

"Then what is he?"

"Sorry, but I have no idea."

"But you knew about Jackson and Kira."

"This is a little out of my experience. Paxton?" All eyes, save for Parrish's, went to her unusually quiet brother, not having said anything throughout the entire gathering. No sarcastic remarks or otherwise unnecessary comments. It was strange and almost, almost, made her wish he would. If only to relieve the growing tension.