Broken Kiss (a Teen Wolf story)

Part 17b

            Allison led them down a steep hill and into a canyon. They ran deeper and deeper, until the path narrowed so much they had to slow so they didn’t bounce off the jagged rocks.

            “There,” the hunter whispered, touching Lydia’s shoulder and pointing. “Go there.”

            Through the winding passage, Peter was just able to make out the dark slope of a rooftop. Lydia shook her head, unable to see it in the monochrome twilight. Her hair was so bright it looked like flame.

            “I’ll go high,” Allison said, “and try to pick it off. If I can’t, I’ll lead it away.”

            Lydia grabbed her arm. “No. You’re not facing that thing alone.”

            Peter shook his head. How did she think she was going go fight it? She was tiny, human, and all she had were a couple of magical transportation apples. No weapons strapped to her back, no weapons to deploy from her body. Fragile. Still, she sounded fierce, like she both meant it and understood what it could mean.

            “The creatures here are attracted to movement,” Allison said. “It’ll spot you two from miles away. I can blend in. And it won’t hurt me.” She shrugged, smiling even as her eyebrows drew together. “I belong here.”

            They hugged, whispering things to each other that Peter turned away from. There were white spots in his memories of Allison, ones he was now certain had been occupied by Lydia. Some of those moments had been...tense. Persephone had stolen his memories of her somehow, but he remembered his feelings in those encounters. Anger. Exasperation. Guilt. Lust. Hope. The first two might have been attributable to the Argent, maybe even the third. But never the last two.

            “We should go,” Lydia said. She stared up at the sharp rock face, which her friend scrambled nimbly up. Her arms went around her middle and, without looking at him, she continued to trudge down the path. Peter followed close behind her.

            “An abandoned shack in a strange place. This always ends well in horror movies,” he drawled.

            “Horror movies have nothing on my life,” Lydia said.

            “Since you’re the kind of person who goes charging into Hell after bare acquaintances, I’m not sure I trust your judgment.”

            She paused, nearly causing him to bump into her, then glanced back at him. Her eyes were full of questions, but instead of opening to let them out, her lips screwed up into a little moue.

            “We need to keep moving,” he pointed out.

            “You think I don’t know you?” she asked.

            Peter moved closer, until his chest brushed her back. Her expression softened, all that speculation fading until a single question remained.

            “I’m beginning to think we know each other, Red.” He wrapped a strand of hair around his finger and twirled it until his hand reached her jaw. “And I’m hoping that we can get to know each other much, much better.”