━ ✧° ☾⋆⁺ ━

⠀⠀"𝙄'𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙚 𝙩𝙤𝙤."Aibee said, dropping extra clothes into Stiles' arms.

"I thought you wanted to stop at the mall to get takeout from Pizza Hut." He said, nearly collapsing under the weight of the pile as they strolled through the racks of the clothing store.

Many of the customers were staring at him curiously.

"I lied." The teenager replied, eyeing a pair of heeled boots. "And every time, you fall in the trap. It's ridiculous."

She added yet another set of accessories that nearly knocked Stiles over.

"You need to learn to be smarter, or people will always take advantage of you." She said, trying on a hat.

"I have a vague idea of who those people might be," He replied through gritted teeth.

"But for that, it would be necessary that you learn already to carry the quarter of your size," She resumed in a mocking tone.

He rolled his eyes with annoyance.

"Is that why you go out with Malia?" Aibee asked. "Because she's more muscular than you? I saw her open a jam jar with her shoulder blades the other day, it was pretty impressive."

Stiles felt a sudden pang in his chest as he recalled their last discussion. The one that had broken the trust she had for him and at the same time sowed the seeds of trouble in their relationship.

As he had feared, Malia had distanced herself and he had no way of knowing how long it would last. He missed her and this feeling was still new to him, especially since he still felt largely responsible for hurting her by knowingly keeping her out of the secret of her origins.

Moreover, an unpleasant bitter taste remained in his throat when he thought of the confession she had made and which had pierced him like the blade of a hot knife.

   𝘐 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘐𝘴𝘢𝘢𝘤.

Stiles wondered if his grief was fully legitimate. He knew there were trials to overcome in a couple, but were they really one? After all, he wasn't sure about the nature of their relationship. No exclusive terms had been established between them, and they had not made anything official.

Aibee stopped walking in front of him, forcing him out of his thoughts. She was staring at a mannequin wearing a long satin blue dress so shiny it was almost impossible to ignore. Her eyes lit up.

"This is..."

Her lips stretched into a satisfied smile.

"Just what I need," She added.

She approached the mannequin and reached out to examine the details of the dress, when against all odds, she felt the fabric slip through her fingers.

"This is everything !" A girl exclaimed, grabbing it with excitement. "The last creation of Givenchy!"

She was a redhead and wore a straw brooch in her long hair separated in two long braids that fell on her shoulders.

Her checkered cotton blouse, adorned with mother-of-pearl buttons, was tucked into a denim skirt weathered by time. A thick belt accentuated her waist, and she sported cowboy boots that reached up to her knees.

"It is perfect!"

"It is also mine." Aibee spat.

The girl turned and looked back at her.

"Impossible, I took it first," She said.

Her voice was shrill and unpleasant.

"But I've seen it before and I'll wear it much better," Aibee retorted, taking a step towards her.

"Who do you think you are?"

"Aibee Stilinski."

The girl frowned.

"So?"

The next moment, Aibee jumped on her, kicking her legs angrily in the air.

"It's MY dress!" She yelled, stretching her arms to take it from her.

"You should have been faster!" The girl shouted, holding it out of her reach.

"As you were it by deciding to opt for these shoes?" Aibee retorted by staring at her feet.

She managed to grab one of the dress's sides.

"I had them in promotion!" The girl replied by firmly gripping a strap.

"In Shrek's or Grinch's store?"

The girl hiccupped offended and dropped the dress which fluttered in the air and landed on Stiles by covering entirely his face. Blinded, he fell to the ground and disappeared under the thick pile of clothes.

"You're not going to get away with this!" The girl shouted.

She spun frantically with the intention of knocking her off her back, then finally began to run backwards into a shelf to destabilize her. Aibee bumped into it and let out a furious growl while pulling with more grip on her hair. She then pushed her freshly filed nails in her ribs.

In the commotion, they knocked over a movable closet, a sewing bust and an elderly woman, each in turn shouting fiercely.

"Aibee!" Stiles intervened, rushing towards them. "Get off her immediately!"

He tried to come between them, but only managed to get elbowed in the forehead.

"You chose the wrong day to go shopping, sweetheart !" Aibee said.

She inserted a pair of socks into the girl's mouth.

"Stop that right now!" Stiles ordered as he ran after them.

On his way, he dodged a cadis and a dog on a leash who was licking the coveted dress.

"Listen to what this stranger is telling you!" The girl shouted after releasing her mouth.

"I am her brother!"

"That's not true, I don't know him!" Aibee answered by pinching the ears of the girl.

"Ouch! God, you're the most messed up person I've ever met in this town!"

"Welcome to Beacon Hills, honey!" Aibee said, putting her hands over her eyes.

The girl let out a scream and fell flat on her face on a velvet carpet, dragging Aibee down with her.

"Oh, it's so comfortable!" she commented.

"Oh yes, I like it very much!" Aibee agreed, above her.

"And super soft!"

"Not like your hair!"

They started fighting again. Aibee hit her with a cardboard figure.

Stiles wrapped his arm around her waist and lifted her off the girl.

"Are you okay?" He asked, as Aibee continued to gesture against him.

The girl stood up.

"I was fine before that crazy girl got out of her cage!" She replied, dusting off her torn clothes.

"We are really sorry."

"I'm not!" Aibee said, wriggling around wildly.

"Nice to meet you," Stiles added, embarrassed.

He walked away from the store, taking Aibee with him.

"Put me down, stranger!" She shouted.

Several people looked at him suspiciously.

"I'm her brother!" He said. "Everything's fine!"

"SECURITY!" She shouted.

━ ✧° ☾⋆⁺ ━

♫𝙋𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

The Tech Thieves - Be Free

Claire Rosinkranz - Backyard Boy

The Pussycat Dolls - When I Grow Up

━ ✧° ☾⋆⁺ ━

"Here, take that in your face!" Mason exclaimed, concentrated on a video game.

Sitting at the edge of Liam's bed, he was pressing the buttons of his controller in a frantic way to crush the head of a skeleton with spidery arms covered with shreds of flesh. Defeated, the alien-like creature lay dying in the narrow corridor of a spaceship.

"Woohoo!" He rejoiced, raising his arms.

His enthusiasm dissipated however when he noticed the inactivity of the character controlled by Liam.

"What are you waiting for?" He said to him hoping to make him react. "There's one right behind you! Why are you letting it get closer?"

Liam watched the monster through the computer screen. In the Dead Space universe, Necromorphs were reanimated corpses whose DNA had been heavily modified by an alien virus, creating extremely aggressive beings whose sole purpose was to spread the contamination that had turned them into vile, inhuman beasts.

Liam couldn't help but think of the similarities he shared with them. He felt just as infected and rotten inside, unable to predict the inevitable damage he would cause in the near future.

Like them, he was a threat.

The mutant jumped at the throat of his character who succumbed to the attack in a frightful bloodbath.

"What did you do?" Mason asked.

"I'm sorry. We can play again."

"You were completely absent! Like in that movie with the guy who can't hear the people around him because he lives in another reality in which he is possessed by the spirit of a cursed bison."

"I'm sorry, okay?" Liam replied in a jaded voice. "We could play another game, don't you think? Sims is good too, right?"

Mason frowned.

"You want to have fun making mini humans go to work and go to the bathroom on command?"

"We can let them do what they want too," Liam said with a shrug.

"I'm all for it. Eventually they'll set the place on fire, attract the Reaper, and we can invite him to a romantic dinner to unlock a new level."

Liam frowned.

"What version of Sims have you been playing?"

"I'm just saying that you shouldn't have to settle for such an ordinary game when you can have epic adventures with totally out-of-this-world characters, like magicians and ghosts! Do you know what I would give to have powers that most people don't have?"

"It would be a burden to carry," Liam replied.

"Not if you see it as a way to become even more exceptional than you already are," Mason argued. "Powers are just a lot of fluff when you think about it. It's what you do with them that counts."

Liam pondered his words. He'd never thought about it that way. However, this approach to things didn't entirely succeed in pushing away his oppressive concerns.

"For example, making your chemistry teacher disappear so you don't have a test tomorrow is not insignificant, Mason added.

Liam turned his attention back to him, bewildered.

"I have a test tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I was supposed to remind you of it last week, but I forgot."

Liam glared at him and went in search of his chemistry book in his messy room. Mason's cell phone vibrated and he pulled it out of his pocket to accept the video call.

"Hi, Aibee!" He said, smiling at her.

"What are you doing?" She asked, applying a moisturizing serum to her face.

"I was in the middle of a Playstation game, but you're not missing anything because I didn't beat my score tonight. I need like five more p-"

"You moved into a pigsty?" She grinned. "Are those banana peels on your bed?"

"I think so," He said, turning around.

"That's disgusting!"

"That's exactly what I tell Liam when I come to his house. I'd probably throw up if I hadn't lost my sense of smell from hanging out in his room. I call this place Hodor's Den. Like the character from Game of Thrones, get it? Smell! Hodor!"

Mason chuckled, amused by his joke.

"I'm gonna hang up." Aibee said, annoyed.

"I'll show you," He said, turning his phone so that it would rotate to allow a full view.

"What are you doing?" Liam asked on all fours.

He looked up and appeared on the screen with his textbook in his hand that he had found under his bed.

"Look, he's waving at you," Mason said to Aibee.

Liam squinted when he saw her.

"Am I dreaming, or are you on Facetime with that-"

"That girl who knows you had to wear a bib until you were thirteen?"

Mason stifled a laugh.

"I was twelve and a half and my mom wasn't supposed to tell you!"

"Do not get angry, Lili Bear!" She dropped to taunt him. "What an adorable nickname."

He tightened the jaw and rushed towards Mason.

"Stop showing her my room!" He got angry while trying to tear the phone off his hands.

━ ✧° ☾⋆⁺ ━

"See you later, Mom!" Scott said as he pulled on his backpack.

He was about to head downstairs to the main floor.

"Scott, not so fast!" Melissa said as she poked her head in the doorway.

He retraced his steps and stood in front of the entrance to his mother's room. His curiosity was suddenly aroused when he noticed her strangely disheveled hair and realized that she was trying to keep the door as ajar as possible.

"I'd like you to think about getting some milk after school, I've got a lot of cleaning to do and I won't have time to buy it before I go to the hospital."

She closed the door, then reopened it a few seconds later to hand him a bill she took from her wallet.

"With this, you can also get new batteries for the living room clock. I want to try to make it work one last time before throwing it away for good."

She then began to close the door but interrupted her gesture.

"By the way, speaking of throwing things away, do you know why the neighbor called me this morning to say he would take our trash out this week if my daughter could still give him a hundred dollars?"

"No?" Scott lied, immediately thinking of Aibee.

She pulled the door towards her, not entirely convinced, before opening it again.

"I love you, have a good day!"

"You too?" He answered, intrigued by her behavior.

"Oh and do not forget that there is a curfew," She added. "I want you to respect it. I don't want to learn that you walk at night with Stiles and I know that his father will also take care of it."

"I swear we won't do anything," Scott said.

"That's what I like to hear. Now go to school so you can build a professional career and earn money to pay for my groceries in ten years."

He smiled and leaned over to place a kiss on her cheek and peeked through the thin crack in the door to see a man's jacket spread out on the carpet. Uneasy, he left as quickly as possible.

As he crossed the porch, he recognized Gary's car parked a few blocks away. He shook his head, embarrassed at their respective efforts to remain discreet about the more than obvious evolution of their relationship.

He understood that his mother might crave company other than his own. Although he didn't like Gary, he couldn't deny that he made her happy. Thanks to him, she was less immersed in her work and enjoyed the everyday moments more.

After all she had been through, he could understand why she would want to love again.

━ ✧° ☾⋆⁺ ━

"You're saying all these serial killings are caused by a cult?" The sheriff asked with an eyebrow raised.

"Not just any cult," Jordan said. "A cult that seeks to eliminate supernatural creatures. This vet told me about it. I found some information in this book he lent me."

He handed him the bestiary.

"This book is at least nine hundred pages long," Noah replied, dumbfounded.

"They call themselves the Benefactors because they believe they are doing good by ridding the world of supernatural beings."

"That's not something we can rely on. We need hard evidence, data, statistics."

"I searched the city's archives," Jordan replied.

He read a file he was holding.

"In 1836, hundreds of Beacon Hills residents were attacked by a mysterious killer. All had the mark of three rings immortalized on their skins. The same three rings that appeared on the bodies we found. It is a symbol that represents a strong and unbreakable bond. A bond that unites each member of this sect."

Mr. Stilinski seemed more and more confused.

"What kind of bond exactly? An engagement vow? Look, we can't let this information get past the walls of this office, let alone into the hands of Agent McCall."

"What about his son?"

"Scott is on our side. He's protected this city many times over. Him and his friends."

"Including your son?"

"Stiles was mostly responsible for Scott getting bitten in the woods by a werewolf, but that's a long story."

Jordan frowned with a puzzled expression.

"If what you're saying is true, we need to approach this case with extreme caution to identify the potential threat or threats," The sheriff continued. "There are some things we must keep hidden to avoid creating more panic."

"To be honest, I'm having a hard time keeping my cool when I remember that I haven't been quite human for a few days," Jordan added. "Maybe I'm next in line."

The office door opened and Braeden entered. With a quick movement, he quickly hid the file.

"Relax, Parrish, she knows," Noah informed.

"How long has she known?" He said, his eyes bulging.

"Long enough to write an even bigger book on the subject," Braeden said, pointing to the bestiary.

He stared at her.

"She's a mercenary," Mr. Stilinski said.

"Are you a secret agent?" Jordan asked, glancing at her with awe.

"She's in charge of finding Kate Argent."

"The woman who burned down that house in the forest? Is she alive? How many assassins walk the streets of this city?"

He swallowed.

"I should have moved to Chicago," He muttered.

Braeden turned to the sheriff.

"You wanted to see me?"

"A missing persons report has just been confirmed. It's a sixteen-year-old girl who her parents say has run away."

"What leads do you have?"

"A cult that tracks and kills supernatural creatures," Jordan replied.

"I think I can handle that," She replied before walking away.

━ ✧° ☾⋆⁺ ━

"And then I heard her laughing in a low voice, like she didn't want me to hear," Scott explained as he and Stiles walked across the high school parking lot. "I don't know why they're trying to sneak around, like it's a secret and I didn't already know they were dating. My mom has always been secretive about her love life, but I was still hoping for a little more trust from her. She acts like I'm not old enough to understand."

He noticed the absent look on Stiles' face as she walked beside him.

"What's going on with you? You usually have something to say."

He sighed.

"It's Malia... I told her."

"Told her what?"

"She knows about Peter, Scott. I screwed it up. She won't talk to me and I think she blocked my number, which besides being an obvious sign of resentment is upsetting because I'm the one who taught her how to use a cell phone."

"We need to go talk to her. We need to explain to her why it was better for her not to know."

"Is that what you really think?"

His raw tone surprised Scott.

"Scott, we were hurting her more by keeping her from the truth. I think she needs direction in her life more than anything. She needs to move forward, but she'll never get there if she doesn't have a starting point, and as hard as it is for me to admit, Peter is the one who can provide the keys she needs."

"He could manipulate her, it would only make the situation worse," Scott protested.

"Not if we make sure that doesn't happen."

"By doing what exactly?"

"I don't know," Stiles said. "I was just saying that to convince myself that I was in control."

They crossed the street toward the main entrance of the school, when an old, partially rusted green pickup truck with black smoke coming out of its exhaust nearly ran them over. The vehicle pulled into the parking lot, making a wrong turn that sent the tires screeching on the pavement. On the windshield was a half-peeled sticker that read "COACH #1."

"He complains I can't play, but he can't drive," Stiles commented, shaking his head.

The pickup backed up to make the turn and crashed into Stiles' Jeep parked in the other lane.

"Hey!" He yelled as he rushed to his car.

━ ✧° ☾⋆⁺ ━

Aibee unlocked her locker and admired herself in her mirror. She sprayed perfume on the back of her neck.

"Hi, you know you're seriously my kind of girl?" A boy said, stopping at her level.

"Do I know you ?" She answered by dabbing the contours of her mouth using her small finger to rectify her lipstick.

"If you go out with me, then you will," He answered by biting his lips while looking at her with insistence.

Aibee turned over and approached her face of his.

"Close your eyes," She whispered in a honeyed voice.

He complied. She then took out an eyeliner pencil and wrote on his forehead. He smiled, amused.

"You are a special girl, I like that."

"Finished," She declared a moment later.

He reopened the eyes and looked at himself in the mirror of his locker. Under his brown locks, he could read in reverse the sentence that crossed his forehead.

𝓘 𝓐𝓜

𝓐𝓝 𝓘𝓓𝓘𝓞𝓣

𝓐𝓝𝓓 𝓘

𝓗𝓐𝓥𝓔 𝓛𝓘𝓒𝓔.

"You're crazy!" He exclaimed, as laughter erupted behind him in the hallway.

"Sorry, you wanted an autograph? You'll come back when your failed playboy looks will deflate your oversized ego!"

He ran away, humiliated. Aibee closed her locker next to which Andrew and Rachel were standing.

"I can't believe you managed to scare Ryan Robinson away," Rachel said. "That guy has been trying to seduce every girl he meets since he played a game of Truth or Dare six years ago."

"I hate being hit on," Aibee said. "It's like those people who drag the chalk against the boards, it's unbearable."

"Sometimes they're cringy, it's true, but maybe some of them are just trying because they really like you, have you thought about that?"

"Of course, I would like me too!"

Aibee twirled her hair proudly.

"Are you still on to go out tonight ?"

"You know there's a curfew?" Andrew reminded her, raising his eyebrows.

"So?"

"So, I'm not sure your father will approve."

"I agree with him," Rachel added. "We should postpone this for another time."

"Are you serious? I thought you were my good friends with whom I could have a great time and be totally immature and irresponsible at all hours of the day! I'm very disappointed in you, you know that?"

"I'm sorry, see you later?" Rachel said. "We'll save you a seat in the cafeteria."

They left, hand in hand.

"I doubt it, I don't eat with those who betray me!" Aibee yelled with sourness.

Mason joined her.

"Where were you?" She scolded. "I had a lot of gossips to tell you, but you took so much time to come that I'll tell them to you in ten years to take my revenge."

"Forget it, anyway I think I have a hotter tea for you", He declared.

"Kira Yukimura came across the itching powder I hid in her glove compartment?" She asked with a wide smile.

"What?"

"I saw Hortensia do it in an episode The Passion of Love of Danger and Punishment."

"There's a new freshman," Mason confided. "Her name is Peggy and she's from Tennessee."

Aibee frowned.

"And why would I care about that information?"

"Well, everyone says she-"

"Aibee Stilinski," said a falsely cheerful voice that sounded behind them.

Aibee recognized the girl from the clothing store. She was wearing a floral dress, along with heels. Her wavy red hair covered her shoulders and a headband decorated with dried petals was put there.

"Knows you", finished Mason.

"It is thus true when they say that the more one has the sense of observation, the more one notices things that don't suit the surrounding," The girl added while approaching.

"Peggy." Aibee said by taking care to pronounce her first name with disgust. "Nice to see you again. How's your scalp doing since last time? The store called back, you can come by and get your dignity back."

The girl lost her smile and glared at him. Several groups of students gathered around them.

"I heard you were the most popular girl in school," Peggy said. I hope you took advantage of that, because now that girl is going to be me."

"It is a big ambition that you have there, much bigger than the mistake you made by forgetting to blur your foundation this morning?"

Distraught, Peggy pulled a mirror from her bag, but saw nothing. Aibee smiled slyly.

"See you soon."

She paused.

"Sweetheart."

She then moved away with Mason, bewildered by her repartee.

━ ✧° ☾⋆⁺ ━

"Hi," Isaac said as he approached Malia in the hallway.

She remained silent in front of his locker.

"I know this isn't the best time to talk about this, but I wanted to tell you that... About what happened last time."

He took a deep breath.

"I've noticed that you've distanced yourself from me and I can totally understand that. Things happened quickly between us and it's normal for you to take a step back, but... I wanted you to know that it wasn't nothing to me and if you feel like talking about it, I'll be there."

Tears streamed down Malia's face, but she wiped them away with a quick wave of her hand before turning away. Her face was hard and impassive, but he could still see the moisture in her eyes.

"I think it's better if we don't see each other anymore," She said.

Isaac frowned. He was about to argue, but held back and simply nodded sadly. She left under his puzzled gaze.

As she walked down the hall, she came across Stiles' path.

"Malia-"

She continued on her way without letting him finish. With a heavy heart, he watched her disappear among the mass of students.

He would have to be more patient.

He knew she needed space more than anything and he was willing to give it to her.

━ ✧° ☾⋆⁺ ━

"I seized him, but he, frightened of my violence, made a slight wound in my hand with his teeth," Teresa said, quoting a passage from a book to her entire class. "A demon fury suddenly seized me. I no longer knew myself. My original soul seemed to suddenly fly out of my body, and a hyper-diabolic, gin-saturated malice penetrated every fiber of my being."

She put the book back on her desk.

"This paragraph is an excerpt from Edgar Allan Poe's short story The Black Cat. In this tale, one of the darkest of his works, he denounces the negative and violent feelings of the human being. It is one of my favorites."

She smiled, then realized that she was alone in this opinion.

"All right, now I'd like to hear your thoughts on the chapter I recommended you read for today," She continued.

She was met with a stunned silence.

"No one read it, uh?"

A boy raised his hand.

"Yes?" She questioned him.

"Could we open the windows?"

There was some heckling from students ready to volunteer.

"Quiet, please!" Teresa exclaimed, annoyed. "I suggest we analyze the poem on-"

She was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Good morning, everyone," Rafael said. "I'm sorry to bother you. I'm Agent McCall and I'm here to investigate the disappearance of one of your students, Brittany Smith."

"Yes, she's one of my students," She said, worried.

"Her parents reported her missing last night. She went out without their permission and never came back. If any of you have any information that could help us find her, please come to the police station as soon as possible. Every minute counts."

He left the room, followed by Aibee.

"Wait!"

He turned around.

"Yes?" He asked.

"Are you Scott's father? I don't think his mother looks like him, but you look amazingly similar. You're his perfect copy."

"Thank you?" Rafael answered, confused. "Did you know Brittany?"

"No, but if I see her, I'll let her know she's missing, don't worry," Aibee added before returning to the classroom.

━ ✧° ☾⋆⁺ ━

Scott and Kira were eating lunch outdoors in the shade of a tree at one of the tables set up on the lawn near the school entrance.

"Because of all the stories about the attacks, my parents installed an electrified door handle that goes off every night between six o'clock and six o'clock in the morning," Kira said.

"Thanks for letting me know, I'll be avoiding visiting you for a while," Scott joked.

They laughed, then she looked serious.

"We're never going to stop being on guard, are we?"

"If we don't, who else will?"

She sighed.

"I'd love to have another night out, just the two of us," She said.

"Yeah, me too. I think that it would be good that we see each other a little more..."

   The arrival of Stiles who took place in front of them put an end to their discussion.

"I have the impression that it is really not my day." He complained while dropping his lunch tray on the table. "First, the coach chipped my car, Malia ignores me, I get a D minus in Latin, and I'm served bread for dessert, even though I specifically asked for a fruit salad."

"If you want, I can give you my yogurt," Scott offered.

"It's not going to change anything," Stiles replied, desperate. "But let me see?"

He reached for the yogurt cup, when he felt a presence next to him. Unexpectedly, he discovered Isaac sitting on the bench.

"Can I talk to you, Stiles?"

Scott and Kira were equally stunned.

"That depends, did you come here to ruin my day?"

"I'd like to talk about Malia."

━ ✧° ☾⋆⁺ ━

"Is she avoiding you too?" Isaac asked, leaning against a wall in a recessed corner.

His arms were crossed against his chest as he assumed a nonchalant posture.

"I wouldn't call it avoidance," Stiles replied. "Let's just say she's not responding to any of the signals I'm sending to try to communicate with her."

Isaac stared at him.

"Are you always this insightful or do you do it on purpose?"

Stiles rolled his eyes.

"I don't think you should critisize me when we both know that you didn't hesitate for a second to flirt with my girlfriend."

"For the record, it was mutual, I didn't force her to do anything," Isaac defended himself. "If you're having relationship problems, you should work it out between you."

Stiles shook his head, irritated.

"What matters to me now is what's wrong with her," Isaac said.

"She found out that Peter Hale is her father."

"What? How long have you known?"

"That's not the point," Stiles said. "I don't think she'll ever trust me again."

"And that's understandable," Isaac retorted, outraged.

"I was dreading the moment when I had to tell her that her biological father is actually a psychopathic V-neck T-shirt-wearing liar!"

"Mine was a violent, torturing sociopath," Isaac added. "You don't choose your family."

"Peter is anything but family."

"That's for her to decide."

━ ✧° ☾⋆⁺ ━

"I can't wait for this week of exams to be over," Rachel said as she started her lunch in the cafeteria.

"Our geography teacher gave us a quiz on a chapter we haven't even started yet," Andrew sighed, next to her.

"I'm convinced that homework is a modern form of torture," Aibee added, sitting across from them.

"What did you answer to question B?"

She frowned.

"There were questions?"

Andrew laughed, shaking his head.

"I hope I passed it," He said.

"And I was hoping to eat macaroni and cheese and now I'm stuck with this kind of poorly seasoned gum paste," Aibee replied, repulsed.

She pushed her lunch tray aside and pulled a plate from her purse.

"Fortunately, I was expecting this, which is why I made this wonderful filet de veau sur son lit de crème anglaise" She rejoiced as she lifted a plate cover.

Rachel and Andrew stared at the luxuous dish in amazement.

"Did you put all that into your bag?"

"I have this too, but I didn't see an outlet where I could plug it in," Aibee said as she placed a mini ice maker on the table.

Mason and Cole joined them.

"Hey, that wasn't on the menu!" Mason exclaimed.

He stretched a greedy hand in direction of the dish. Aibee tapped his fingers.

"The lunch break began fifteen minutes ago, where were you during all this time ?" She scolded.

They answered at the same time.

"In the library," Cole said.

"In the gym," Mason said.

They exchanged an embarrassed look.

"At the gym," Cole corrected.

"In the library," Mason corrected.

Aibee laughed.

"You are my favorite couple, just after Sharpay and Troy."

"They don't end up together in the movies," Rachel said.

"What movies? I was talking about my Tamagotchis."

Aibee sipped a lemon cocktail from a champagne glass.

"Well, well, well, I see they let anyone in here," Peggy said as she approached their table.

"I thought the exact same thing when I saw a cockroach this morning, oh no, wait, it was you," Aibee retorted by addressing her a false smile.

Mason almost choked on a sip of water.

"So, how is your first day of popularity going? Let me guess, your imaginary elf friends are all lining up to meet you?"

  "Nice try, but I don't have time right now, I have a meeting with Ryan Robinson," Peggy replied. "His mother is a Hollywood producer."

"That guy is a pathological liar" Rachel said. "His mom creates puppet shows for kids at the daycare."

Peggy's proud smile broke down. Aibee laughed.

"Life is funny, isn't it, Miss Piggy?"

Mason spat out his mouthful.

"Do you think you intimidate me?" The young redhead retorted. "I stood up to a bull with my bare hands in a rodeo in my village."

"So that explains your dry cuticles? " Aibee asked.

"What?" worried Peggy, looking at her hand.

"Tell me, are you going to stick around to shadow us or are you going to share your limp porridge with your serial liar friend?"

Peggy gritted her teeth, then walked towards her table when her heels suddenly caught on the cable of the ice machine.

She lost her balance, but was barely caught by Liam as he moved between the rows. Right on her feet again, she put her hair back on eagerly.

"A thank you is too much to ask?" Liam said, raising an eyebrow.

"For what?" She grumbled. "You have just crumpled my dress, get out of my face!"

He moved away from her and threw him a black look, while she moved away.

"Hey, Liam!" Mason said while waving his hand. "Come and sit with us!"

Liam's eyes crossed those of Aibee and he preferred to settle alone at another table.

━ ✧° ☾⋆⁺ ━

"Look at you, all gathered here!" Finstock exclaimed to his players in the locker room. "Proud young people who all together form an assortment of arms, legs and failure!"

The players exchanged confused, sheepish looks.

"Come forward! I have an announcement to make! Come on, faster!"

The coach grabbed a boy's arm firmly.

"You!" He shouted. "Who let you get on the team?"

"You, coach?" Greenberg replied, intimidated.

"That's just absurd! Why would I do such a thing?"

He pushed him toward his classmates.

"Since I don't think you're sufficiently motivated, I thought you'd need a different way of doing things, which is why I've called in someone who will be able to supervise you properly! I would like to introduce you all to my right-hand for the rest of the year, my dearest niece, Peggy!"

The young girl burst into the locker room as the players looked on in amazement, whistling as they greeted her. They greeted her warmly with their hands.

"I'm so happy to meet you, boys!" She said, flashing them a seductive smile.

"I know her," Stiles said.

"Oh yeah?" Scott said, his eyebrows furrowed.

"She was arguing with Aibee the other day. Poor thing, you can tell she's not the type to get into trouble and has a calm, measured temperament."

"BUT NOW, NO MORE FUN!" She barked with surprising aggression. "YOU ARE GOING TO MAKE ME NINETY-FIVE ABS WITH RAISED LEGS ON THE GROUND, COME ON!"

She took a whistle out of her hair and blasted the eardrums of the players in a prolonged way. Traumatized, they complied without flinching.

"It's a good thing you know her, it'll make our lives easier," Scott added sarcastically as he got into position.

He saw Liam perform the exercise without showing any sign of physical effort.

"AND THEN YOU'LL DO FOUR TWENTY-EIGHT PUSH UPS ON ONE ARM!" Peggy shouted.

"Did you hear that?" The coach screamed with satisfaction. "One arm!"

━ ✧° ☾⋆⁺ ━

"Congratulations kids!" Mrs. Bloom said at the end of the dance class. "You were fantastic today, some of you are going to end up on tour with Britney Spears, I'm telling you!"

The room began to empty as the students left.

"I loved your new improvisation," Cat said to Aibee after they had finished changing in the locker room. I wish I was that flexible.

"It did come in handy when I snuck into Jennifer Aniston's dressing room once."

Cat widened her eyes.

"Weren't you afraid of the security guards?"

"One of them was dating my mom at the time, which came in handy," Aibee replied.

"Shall we go, my little green bear?" Sheila said, turning off the lights in the room.

She noticed Aibee's presence.

"Honey, didn't your bus come? I'll drop you off. With this curfew, you can't be too careful."

"No, thanks, but my dad's coming to get me. He's the sheriff."

"I happen to have worked in the police department myself, so I'd love to drop you off at the station and see if I can meet any of my old colleagues there at the same time."

"Did I say my father?" Aibee replied. "I meant my brother."

"You once told me you were an only child," Cat added.

Aibee gritted her teeth.

"Wait for me in the parking lot," Mrs. Bloom said. "I have to embalm the room with incense to prepare for the next session.

━ ✧° ☾⋆⁺ ━

"Sorry for the delay," Lydia apologized as she entered Deaton's clinic.

"You're just in time," He said. "I just needed you all to be here."

"Malia is missing," Scott said.

Stiles let out a sigh that didn't go unnoticed by Lydia. Deaton led the teens into his office, where he pulled the end of a sheet off the examination table to reveal the pale, lifeless body of a young girl.

"Who is this?" Kira asked, horrified.

"Brittany Smith," Stiles realized. "She's wearing the same outfit in the picture of her that was given to the police."

Kira swallowed.

"Where did you find her?" Scott asked.

"In a ditch in the woods," Deaton replied. "She was pierced by what appeared to be a wire."

He stared at the deep lacerations visible on the victim's neck.

"A silver wire," He said.

They all looked up at him

"Was she a werewolf?" Lydia asked.

"Hunters are killing all these people?" Kira said, terrified.

Scott took a long look at the body.

"They're not hunters we know," He added.

Stiles spotted the three circles on Brittany's skin.

"They don't just hunt werewolves," He said. "Meredith had those marks, too."

Lydia shivered. At the same time, Jordan appeared.

"Did you tell them about the millennia-old anti-supernatural cult?"

The four friends turned to him, speechless.

━ ✧° ☾⋆⁺ ━

"I know this last-minute deviation was unplanned, but I have to respond to this urge caused by the position of Venus in relation to Jupiter's cosmic pattern!" Sheila exclaimed as she stepped over the stairs to her bathroom floor. "I'll be back after my five minutes of singing!"

She disappeared upstairs.

"I'm worried about your mother," Aibee said to Cat.

"She's a creature of habit," Cat replied with a shrug. "She'll probably be back in half an hour, though, so make yourself comfortable."

Aibee turned her attention to the atypical decoration of the first floor. Esoteric objects were placed on the furniture, such as fake skulls, hourglasses, crystals and candles.

"Are they always lit when you're away?" She asked, pointing to them.

Cat nodded.

"They keep unwanted spirits away."

"I hope your insurance covers you well," Aibee replied.

Her eyes wandered to the stuffed antelope imitation hanging on the wall.

"You're celebrating Halloween early," She added, as a dream catcher hanging from the ceiling tickled her forehead.

"Mom says this room is the heart of the house," Cat said. "It's loaded with stories that intrinsically link the future, the present and the past."

Aibee stood still, staring at a jar on a coffee table inside which seemed to float a human brain in a strange yellowish liquid.

"What is this ?"

"Abstract art with an experiment using camel urine."

Gagging, Aibee clamped a hand over her mouth.

"You want to use the bathroom, honey?" Mrs. Bloom asked as she joined them.

"No, I'm fine," she lied. "I was just... visiting."

"I'd love to show you the rest of my possessions in the basement, but I have to get the hornet exterminator in first. I'm taming them in the meantime, but they're not as sociable as bees."

Aibee merely smiled amiably to hide a grimace.

"Instead, I'll show you my psychic salon," Sheila offered. "I offer a free session to all visitors the first time they come."

"Have fun," Cat said, heading for her room.

Reluctant at first, Aibee decided to play along. As bizarre as the situation was, it was finally entertaining enough to make her not want to rush home.

After donning a turban and a long tunic, Sheila carefully laid out her tarot cards on a round table covered with an occult tablecloth before gently touching her glass divining ball.

"I'm going to read your palm first," Mrs. Bloom said.

Aibee held out her open palm.

"Can you see what will happen between me and Scott McCall?"

Sheila took her hand, then closed her eyes. She seemed to concentrate.

"I see a man... Two men... Many men in your life..."

"How many of them are Scott McCall?"

Sheila was silent for a moment, her eyebrows furrowed.

"That's... Quite strange," She whispered.

"What's strange?"

"Your aura is... peculiar, to say the least. It exudes an energy that I can't quite make out. It's like it's surrounded by some kind of..."

She let go of Aibee's hand and he stared at her in confusion.

"What did you see?"

"I don't know. Maybe I should have let my ball recharge longer in the sun."

"Yeah, well, I'm not paying you for a second session if that's your strategy," Aibee said, disappointed.

"It's not my job to tell you about your future, darling. That could considerably disturb the existential and exponential course of things. You have to trust the process. Not everything can be revealed, because everything will happen in its own time."

Mrs. Bloom put away her psychic paraphernalia.

"But do you want me to probe your soul by studying the four steps of your spiritual scale?"

"I'd rather not."

━ ✧° ☾⋆⁺ ━

"So, as I understand it, we're dealing with a bunch of people who enjoy killing people as a hobby?" Stiles asked.

"It's not just a hobby," Deaton said. "Killing is their motto."

"It's clear they take it very literally."

"And they only go after supernatural creatures?" Scott asked.

"Precisely to them and everything that comes close to them."

"So we're all in danger," Kira added.

Deaton nodded.

"Except me and Stiles."

Lydia frowned and turned to Parrish.

"Did I miss an episode?" She said.

"I'm a Hellhound," He replied.

"That's new," Stiles commented. "When were you planning to tell us about this?"

"And how exactly does that works?" Lydia asked, intrigued.

Jordan pulled a lighter from his pocket and moved the wick closer to his forearm. His skin turned black, but he didn't flinch.

"This could be useful," Stiles said.

"You mentioned a cult," Scott remembered.

"That's the point I was trying to make," Deaton replied. "Beacon Hills has always been a city of magic and supernatural. In the early days, druids and wizards lived side by side, sharing the virtues of Nemeton. Together, they believed they were preserving its balance."

"Wait a second, are wizards really real?" Stiles exclaimed, aghast. "Do they send out spells with wands and stuff?"

"Of course not," Deaton replied. "They weren't magicians, they were enchantment summoners. They came after the druids."

"Where can we find them?" Scott asked.

"Their line died out long ago. Only their practices and knowledge remain to this day."

"Were they wiped out by the Benefactors?" Jordan asked.

   "The Benefactors have been around for thousands of years and originated in Beacon Hills. They are founded on the collective fear of humans who believe that there can only be one species and that anything beyond the logical properties of science deserves to be annihilated. They do not mix with any other group, because they consider themselves the pioneers of this vision. They are in a way the original hunters. They hunt without exception and strike from the shadows. Few members have been intercepted. They have a drastic code of honor, to say the least. When one of their own no longer meets his duties, they get rid of him. They know how to keep a low profile, which is probably their greatest asset. However, since the sacrifice of Scott, Stiles and Allison, the line between the rational and supernatural worlds has been turned upside down, attracting more and more creatures to town."

"So they've become more and more active," Lydia concluded.

"That's one thing, but what we're interested in is how to stop them!" Stiles said.

   "You won't be able to get your hands on them that easily," Deaton said. "The best way is to let them come to you."

"Let them attack us?" Scott asked.

"They're less likely to succeed if you expect them to."

━ ✧° ☾⋆⁺ ━

The dinners between Lydia and her mother were usually held in a silence that undoubtedly underlined the few subjects they discussed together. The moments in between, however, were regularly interrupted by the barking of Prada, who watched them, mouth open and tongue hanging out to the side.

Lydia stroked her head and discreetly gave her a piece of her plate.

"I'd rather wait until the end of the week to tell you, but I signed the deed to the mansion today," Natalie said. "The buyers are a couple of lawyers. They have an only daughter and they are very respectable."

Lydia continued to eat in silence.

"I imagined a different reaction from you," Mrs. Martin added.

Lydia shrugged her shoulders.

"You wanted to get rid of that mansion, not me."

"It was of no use to us and I prefer it to be placed in the hands of owners who will know how to maintain it in a decent state after the mess in which your comrades left it. We should be glad that the murder of this teenager didn't slow down the visits."

"Her name was Carrie."

"I'm going to empty the boathouse tomorrow, do you want to come with me?"

"And help you sort out grandma's things to put them up for auction? No, thanks."

She stood up from the table, but Natalie put a hand on her arm as she passed by her chair.

"If you want to keep something of her... I won't stop you."

Lydia felt that no amount of material possessions could really help her keep her grandmother's memory alive. Part of her liked to believe that her own memory was a more precious relic.

"I don't want you to think I'm doing this for my own benefit. I intend to pay you the full amount of the money once the transfer is complete."

Lydia laughed bitterly, not touched by her proposal.

"You can keep it all to yourself," She added.

She took Prada in her arms and left the kitchen.

━ ✧° ☾⋆⁺ ━

"And then Scott's dad came into the classroom dressed in police gear," Aibee said, dropping her plate in the kitchen sink.

"He works for the FBI," Stiles said, finishing his lunch.

"It's funny, I don't remember him."

"It's not surprising, you don't remember anyone here, you seem to live in your own little world where everything must revolve around you," Stiles added, shaking his head.

Aibee squinted as she returned to clear the table.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," She replied.

He rolled his eyes and got up to put his dish in the sink.

"Could you at least take the trouble to pretend to be attentive to the people around you on a daily basis?"

Aibee's gaze was lost in the void for a moment.

"What's wrong ?" Stiles asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

"I was thinking about the time the beautician gave me a green seaweed wrap when I asked for a scrub."

He huffed in exasperation.

"I might as well tell you that she didn't appreciate very much the cactus I had delivered on her doormat," Aibee confided.

"You are a threat to society," Stiles said.

"No more than your girlfriend," She replied, handing him a sponge. "Besides, what happens between you two?"

"What are you talking about?" He asked, polishing off a glass.

"I saw her taking the bus lately. She realized that your street lamps were dirty and that she couldn't renew her makeup in it?"

She passed him a set of utensils.

"Malia doesn't wear make-up," He answered by cleaning them, then by rinsing them under the tap.

"I guess everyone makes mistakes," Aibee added by giving him a cloth.

"She doesn't have to wear it," said Stiles, wiping a pan.

"I was talking about her dating you."

"Very funny," He muttered, as he put a bowl away in a cupboard.

He turned around and looked at the cleanliness of the kitchen, his hands resting on his hips.

"Wait a minute, did you make me do the dishes for you?"

Leaning against the counter, Aibee giggled.

"It's so easy to fool you, I don't even have to try."

She took a can of whipped cream and a tray of strawberries from the fridge.

"Just a tip, check the expiration date on the stuff you're snacking on, I've seen cookies that are more out of date than your clothing style."

━ ✧° ☾⋆⁺ ━

Peter opened the front door of his loft and discovered Malia, posted in front of him.

"That, for a surprise, it is one," He said.

"Can I come in?" She said.

"Of course, suit yourself."

He closed the door once she was in the stay. She took the time to observe the apartment with more attention than at the time of her first visit. The furniture showed a strong taste for collectibles and period paintings. A large bookcase stretched along one wall. In its center was a fireplace.

Clearly, Peter was not the most benevolent of men, but he was a distinguished and cultured man.

"What brings you here... alone?" He asked.

"I wanted to see you."

He took a few steps toward her.

"To what do I owe this honor?"

"Nothing," Malia answered. "I didn't come for you, but for myself."

"I'm not sure I understand," Peter replied, frowning.

"That's what I want. To understand."

"And what can I possibly enlighten you about?"

"When we met, you mentioned my eyes."

Peter stiffened, suddenly aware of the turn their discussion was about to take.

"You asked me where I got them from and I told you that I inherited them from my mother," She continued.

"I think that's how genetics works," He replied.

"I think I am the way I am because of my parents."

Malia paused.

"My biological parents."

He held her gaze.

"One was a coyote and the other one a werewolf," She added.

"It's a pretty unusual combination, I'll give you that."

"It must have seemed like an interesting thing for you to try out seventeen years ago."

Peter smiled.

"I ran into this woman at a party, to be precise," He said.

"I don't need details," Malia said dryly. "Did you know about it?"

"Lydia told me about it some time ago. It was a shock to me too."

"All these years... You never looked for me?"

"My sister, Talia, kept your existence from me," Peter explained.

"Why?" Malia asked in a tone filled with bitterness.

"I don't know. She was an enigmatic and rather stubborn person. She didn't like most of my opinions and she hated peanut butter."

"I don't care about that," She spat, annoyed.

"Yes, she said that a lot, too," He added. "I suspect that all these discoveries must not be easy to assimilate at once. You probably want some emotional support, I suppose. A family counselor, perhaps?"

"I want to find out who my mother is."

"I'll give you a summary of her life later, I have something to show you first," He said.

━ ✧° ☾⋆⁺ ━

Sitting cross-legged on her bed, Aibee watched an episode of her soap opera.

"𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦, 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘮?" A character cried, sobbing. "𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦!"

"𝘞𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘗𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘱𝘦," A second character said. "𝘕𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘴."

Aibee swallowed a strawberry without taking her eyes off her laptop screen.

"𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘪𝘵, 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵!" The woman shouted before pressing a button that blew up the building they were in.

Aibee heard a rock hit the window of her room. She walked over to it and noticed Andrew perched on the ledge. She lifted the glass to face him.

"Congratulations, now I don't know if Penelope survived the bomb she programmed to get back at her ex-husband," She grumbled.

He threw him a confused glance.

"It's midnight, what are you doing here?"

"How irresponsible do you feel this evening?" He asked in a frivolous tone.

Aibee raised an eyebrow, not sure what he meant.

"I was thinking that we could be totally reckless and unconscious, that we could seize the moment and break curfew, what do you say?"

"I say you must have been clinging to my window for a long time and you're trying to play it cool by showing that your arms don't hurt that bad," She replied.

"In fact, my legs hurt really bad," He admitted while laughing.

She laughed too.

"So, you're in?" He asked.

"You came up with that plan in the last sixteen hours?"

"You're a bad influence to me, Aibee Stilinski," He said.

"You, you know how to flatter me, let's go!"

Once on the lawn, Andrew reached out to secure her descent, but she did a back flip and landed on her feet with ease and dexterity.

"You look like you've been doing this your whole life," He looked surprised.

"Only every weekend and some Thursday nights," Aibee replied. "My dad's away a lot and Stiles never notices anything."

He observed her outfit. A blazer and a skirt accompanied by a pair of tights.

"How come you're not wearing pajamas?" He asked.

"I stopped wearing them since I noticed that people were coming to my house unexpectedly."

"Convenient," Anrew chuckled.

They walked to his car.

"Where do you plan to go?" Aibee asked, putting her seatbelt.

"You and your questions."

"Is it really a convertible or not?" She said, pointing to the roof of the car.

━ ✧° ☾⋆⁺ ━

"What are we doing at school?" Malia asked as she followed Peter into the main hall, which was plunged into semi-darkness. "I didn't bring my homework, I haven't done it yet."

"And what's stopping you?" He said as he walked down the steps of a staircase that led to the basement of the school.

"I don't want to do them," She replied, shrugging her shoulders.

Peter pushed shelves to the side to clear a wall on which was engraved a symbol composed of three spirals. He pulled out his claws and inserted them into the recesses of a metal plate in a circular crevice before rotating his hand clockwise. The mechanism caused the wall to slide open, revealing a secret underground room.

Malia stepped inside, while the ceiling lights lit up as she passed.

"What is this place?"

On dusty shelves lay old jars, wooden boxes, and artifacts.

"A vault," Peter explained. "My family's. You see, we preserve our relics and have done so for generations. Of course, they are not all of equal value."

Malia brushed a horn with her fingertips.

"Did you ever wonder why Derek and I don't work? We have a vast inheritance. It allows us to live without the day-to-day concerns that ordinary people face."

"So, you're rich?"

"In all modesty, I'd say we have... good savings."

Malia unscrewed the lid of a jar and breathed in the contents with a grimace.

"Smells like an animal died in there," She said.

"These are Solanum nigrum leaves," Peter pointed out. "Also known as wolf's grape. It's frequently used to turn into a werewolf."

"I thought you had to be bitten to become one."

"Your knowledge is thin and limited."

"At least I don't slaughter people."

"I don't have the most glorious past, I admit it," Peter answered.

"You did it because you liked to feel powerful," Malia said.

"Power is nothing without real ambition. At that time, I had only one thing in mind. To be the best. The best Alpha."

"But you're aren't anymore."

A wry smile appeared on Peter's face.

"That only makes sense if you skip the theory part," He added presumptuously. "I see that you have studied my case well. Now I'd like to know if, in addition to having some basics, you also have a good memory."

He approached Malia, who stood aside on her guard. A metal box stood on a shelf where she had been standing before.

Peter unlocked it and took out an old wooden disk covered with a celtic pattern.

"It's the Triskelion," She realized.

━ ✧° ☾⋆⁺ ━

"I should have known you were going to drag me into the woods again," Aibee said as she made her way through the trees. "I didn't think you were that close to nature."

"I used to come to this area all the time when I was a kid," Andrew confided as he walked ahead of her on a small dirt path.

The cloudless night sky shone above them.

"Most of the kids in the neighborhood went there. Our houses were only a few feet away. All we had to do was cross the road and... it was always there."

They stopped by a wooden shack. It was weathered, but its foundation still looked solid.

"This was our lair, witness to our first broken hearts and unsupervised games of hide-and-seek."

"I hope it's not for rent, because there's a lot of stuff that needs to be fixed up," Aibee commented as she paced the stilted terrace of the house. "But the dimensions seem to me adequate to install a sauna there."

After her brief inspection of the place, she returned on her steps and put her feet on the boards which constituted the staircase. One of them, half rotten, cracked under her weight. Andrew rushed to prevent her fall and grabbed her waist so that she maintained her balance.

Aibee was leaning towards him, her eyes plunged in his, as at the time of their meeting in the hallways of the school.

"Do you always have such good reflexes?" She asked.

He smiled, then put her down.

"Now I'll show you the real reason I brought you here," He said.

Aibee followed him and they came to a dock.

"As you can see, we have another view of Willow Lake," He said.

"You think so? I can just see gallons of undrinkable water stretching for miles."

"There's less current in this area. See that power pole over there?"

Andrew pointed to a pole on the opposite shore.

"When the moon reflects off the metal and lights it up completely, it looks like you're staring at the Eiffel Tower."

He sat down on the edge of the pontoon and she joined him.

"You are right, it is magnificent."

They admired the landscape in silence.

"You also came here with Rachel? And don't say no, I saw the initials of your names carved in a tree trunk."

"We never came at night," Andrew replied. "Rachel is not the type to look at the stars."

"I could have sworn she was the more romantic of the two of you."

"You shouldn't trust appearances," He replied with a light laugh.

"I don't think there's anything wrong with that," Aibee said. "I like the image I give off. I mean, if you didn't know me right now, what are the first ten words that would come to your mind to describe me?"

"Ten? That's a lot of words. I have to think about it."

   Aibee pushed him into the lake. He came up to the surface, dazed. She laughed out loud. He splashed her with the icy water.

━ ✧° ☾⋆⁺ ━

Malia stared at the Triskelion in Peter's hands.

"Wasn't Derek supposed to have destroyed it?" She asked, confused.

"He destroyed the replica, not the original. When I was informed of Kate's return, I made sure she couldn't use it."

She frowned.

"But you said it was a scam, that you couldn't really use it."

"I tend to be very persuasive," He added.

"Why are you telling me all this?" She said suspiciously.

"So that you can understand the reasons that pushed me to act this way."

"You didn't want Kate to control her transformation."

"Also, but mainly because she and I don't share the same blood."

Malia felt uneasy at the insistence with which he was staring at her.

"After all, it's true," Peter continued.

He paused.

"I am your father."

The words sounded so unnatural in his voice that she winced.

"Why are you acting like this is Star Wars?"

"You seemed to be trying to learn to control yourself the last time we talked," He said. "Is that still the case?"

"I don't see how that's any of your business," Malia retorted.

She challenged him with her eyes.

"It's more than obvious," He said, circling her. "I feel it. Your impulsiveness, your impatience, your nervousness..."

She straightened her chin, as if to prove him the opposite.

"You still don't know how to stabilize your heartbeats."

"At least I have a heart," She spat.

An amused chuckle appeared on Peter's lips.

"If you thought I was so threatening, you wouldn't have visited me, let alone followed me here. You came because you couldn't resist your curiosity, just as I can't deny mine. I think we have a lot in common."

Malia squinted.

"I can allow you to put your abilities to good use. Without limiting your potential. What makes the Triskelion so special is that it not only regulates it, it can amplify it."

"I won't have to stay tied up on full moon nights?" She asked.

"That won't even be an option," He replied.

He handed her the Triskelion. Malia hesitated a long time before taking it.

"I must say, you surprise me," He said. "Your friends wouldn't like to know that you're taking this path."

"I know how to make my own choices." She replied as she headed for the exit.

━ ✧° ☾⋆⁺ ━

"It's time for your medication, sir," A nurse announced, pushing a cart.

She entered the room of a patient, an old man in a wheelchair.

"You doctors, physicians and specialists think you have all the answers with your miserable potions that you call medical advances," He said, coughing and spitting into a handkerchief. "None of this nonsense will cure me."

"Even if we can't cure you, we have to take care of you," The young woman said.

"Do you think I care about your pathetic pity?" He raised his voice.

The nurse's eyes widened, caught off guard by the severity of his tone.

"You only need to see an old man in a wheelchair to rush to his aid," He grumbled.

He coughed, then spat again.

"If I saw my own enemy in a wheelchair, I'd run him over without the slightest hesitation."

The young woman stared at him, slightly frightened.

"I'll have your dinner brought to you," She said, before leaving the room without delay.

Sitting in front of a window, the old man wiped his mouth for the umpteenth time and threw the used handkerchief into a garbage can that already contained a good twenty others.

A storm broke out and he felt a presence behind him. He swiveled his chair around and found a lunch tray sitting on a cart in front of him. He looked up at the nurse who had just entered. She lowered her surgical mask and a flash of lightning revealed Kate's face.

"Bon appétit, papa," She said.

━ ✧° ☾⋆⁺ ━

"Haigh, are you awake?" Melissa asked as she pushed open the door to his hospital room.

He was lying on his back with his eyes on the ceiling.

"I spoke to the doctor and he confirmed that you are cleared for discharge tomorrow and that-"

She paused as she noticed his lifeless look. She approached the bed and pulled on the edges of the sheet. She then noticed the state of rigor mortis of his body. His limbs were stiff, the joints of his fingers were bent inward and his mouth was wide open, as if a silent scream was escaping.

Horrified, Melissa pressed the emergency button.

━ ✧° ☾⋆⁺ ━