"We could have gone to my place," Scarlett said, looking at the house that once belonged to the Hales.
"What?" Derek asked, looking at her. "Too many memories are going to mess up your coldness."
That made Scarlett smirk as she crossed her arms. "That's not very polite to talk about how cold I am." The usual Derek Hale. She was used to him and his behavior. The two of them had never gotten along that well. They never saw eye to eye. They were very different, there were no hard feelings, but Derek was not one of her favorite people on the planet.
She followed him inside as he opened the red door. Scarlett observed it, touching the frame with her fingers. She still remembered the first time she had entered that house. It was very different now. She remembered how big it was, well-kept, there were many flowers in the garden. Thalia used to love them. And there were many rooms, and beautiful furniture.
When she was inside, she saw the stairs, and she remembered how Cora used to like running up and down those stairs. Scarlett still remembered where everybody slept. The room they had given her was upstairs on the right. The second door, right next to Peter's room, that made it much easier for them to sneak into the other room, so that they could fool around.
She smiled, looking at the living room. Once there had been a beautiful sofa just in front of a TV for them to watch all together in the evening. On the other side, there was what was left of the living room. The table was broken and the chairs scattered on the floor. There was nothing of that place that had been her first real home, only ashes and broken wood. Only loneliness and pain. Then her eyes went to the stairs that led downstairs, and she instantly felt the pain grow in her chest when she thought of how they had been trapped in there with all the flames around them.
Fucking Argents.
"Why do you live here?" Scarlett asked, her tone serious, but she did not dare to turn towards Derek.
"It helps me remember," he answered, and she shook her head.
"As if it will ever be possible to forget," Scarlett said.
She had tried. In those years, she did her best to keep on and be what her nature wanted her to be. And it helped for a time, but inside of her, she felt that a part of her was missing: Peter, the Hales… her pack. Nothing would have made her feel better. Nothing would erase from her mind what had happened that night.
"Why are you here?" Derek asked. He had taken off his leather jacket and was standing a few feet away from her with his arms crossed.
She could not tell him that Peter had called her after he had found Laura almost dead. Peter said that it was not the time for Derek to know. Scarlett knew the young Hale; he liked to act tough, but he was anything but. He was soft, and he was not keen on revenge. He would have been a bother more than anything.
"I missed my home," she answered, looking at Derek. It was not an entire lie; she missed her time with the Hales, even if longing was not the real reason.
"Your kind should be kind of void in matters of emotions." Scarlett found herself smirking at the werewolf. Derek had never trusted her, and for good reason. Werewolves and vampires were natural enemies; they usually hated each other. But Scarlett had grown quite fond of that family of werewolves—not that she had to explain herself to Derek.
"Let me handle my void," she answered with a challenging tone. "Don't worry about me."
Derek was observing her closely. He wanted to understand her reasons for being there. But Derek Hale had never been that good at making any kind of conversation.
"And why should a vampire attend school?" Derek said with an inquisitive look.
He was truly nagging. She now had it clearer than ever why they could never get along. Derek pretended, but he'd never mind his own business, sticking his wolfy nose in anyone's affairs. But she had to answer. She needed an answer that was a half-truth and enough to make him stop asking.
"I've never finished school," Scarlett answered, her arms crossed, showing him that she was feeling kind of bothered by his question—not because she was hiding something, but because she had to open up. "Your mother always told me to keep my humanity near. I thought this was the first step," then she shrugged her shoulders. "And it's not all roses and rainbows, okay? I've already thought of quitting."
He observed her with his cold eyes, but she knew that she had hit a nerve.
"Why didn't you?"
Scarlett kept his stare. "The Alpha," she answered with confidence. "I figured that in my class there was a new puppy. And another guy had been attacked."
Derek's eyes grew larger.
"Who?"
Scarlett forced herself not to smirk.
"The puppy's best friend," she answered, crossing her arms over her chest, leaning her back against the door frame. "And he was lucky for that." He frowned, so Scarlett explained to him that Stiles had been attacked after the game, and the only reason she was still there was because she wanted to keep an eye on Scott. She told him about the Alpha's attack and how Stiles was safe and still human because of her.
"You gave him your blood?" Derek asked.
Scarlett nodded. She wished that she was faking her next words, but they were all truthful.
"I kind of regret that already," she said. "Peter and Thalia had explained how it works, but it's nothing compared to how strange I feel."
"That is a vampire thing," Derek answered. "They could have explained it to you, but they truly never knew..."
"Yeah..." Scarlett agreed. "I had not thought about that."
Thalia and Peter had been her only teachers. Scarlett had never met her maker. But Derek had a point: they were werewolves; they could not know everything about her kind.
"The Alpha killed Laura." Derek's words cut the silence.
He thinks it was the Alpha? How thick could he be? The town was filled with Archers, and he thought about the Alpha? She had to think fast. She could not let him know that the Alpha was Peter, and probably Derek looking for him would keep him out of the way.
"I've heard that the body was hers," she said, looking down, and after a bit, she raised her gaze to observe Derek.
"Are you aware there are Argents in Beacon Hills?"
"Yeah, I know," he answered, taking a breath. "And it does not surprise me that you'd immediately think it was them."
Scarlett frowned. "Why don't you?"
"I speak with facts," Derek answered. "Not with rage."
She shook her head.
"I could disagree on that," she said, tilting her head to the side. "How do you know it was the Alpha?"
Derek took a heavy breath.
"He slashed her throat."
Scarlett could not blame him fully. Peter had indeed killed Laura, but he had already found her almost dead because of the hunters. And since she wanted to give him the power, he had to kill her.
"Shit..." she said.
The silence fell between them for a moment. It was difficult to be in that house. She'd really prefer to walk away, but she would never show weakness. Until their conversation was done, she would have stayed there.
"Have you been at the hospital?" Derek asked at some point. Scarlett let out a heavy breath, trying to remember what she had felt the day that Peter was put into a coma.
"Yeah..." she said, avoiding looking at Derek. "Sometimes I go there. What about you?"
He just nodded. She observed him in silence. It did not seem like Derek was suspecting anything. So she didn't need to convince him anymore, and she would have never spoken of anything that she had felt for Peter's condition with Derek.
I can change the subject now, she thought.
"What do you want, Derek?" she asked.
He took a breath. "Scott does not trust me," he said.
Scarlett let out a little dark chuckle.
"And what do you want from me? Manipulation? It won't work, you're not that easy to like," she said. And her question was answered with a hard stare from Derek.
"I just wanted to know where you stand," he said, getting closer to Scarlett. He was trying to scare her, but she was not.
"I do not trust you, Scarlett."
She chuckled.
"That's cruel. Only because I'm not like you."
"Yes," he answered. "But I could need your help."
Scarlett was amused now.
"Are you asking for my help, big boy?" she asked, faking shock. His lack of response made her let out a little laugh.
"I never thought I'd like to see you beg." Then she moved away from him to walk toward the door.
"Alright, but I'm not doing this for you," she said, caressing the wood of the red door with her fingers.
"But for Laura," she said with honesty.
She would do anything for Laura. And Thalia, and Cora, and Peter. And for everyone that had perished that night, swallowed by flames.
That was the last thing she told Derek before exiting the house to go home. She had to warn Peter about what had happened with Derek.
She decided not to call him, since Derek could have followed to be sure he could trust her. And Scarlett knew too well that werewolves could hear from great distances.
The vampire was quick to write to Peter, informing him of whatever she and Derek had talked about, and where his nephew stood. Then she told him that they could not meet up for quite some time, until the moment was right for Derek to know the truth of what she and Peter were doing.
"That's sad, I wanted to see you," she read Peter's message with a smirk.
"I have something to do, anyway," Scarlett typed, before getting up from the couch to get ready. She decided to put on something pretty, but not too upfront. Being sensual was better with teenage boys, but too much would surely give the wrong impression, and it would not be useful to the cause.
Stiles had texted her too, to let her know the time and address for her to reach his house. As she got ready, she felt something strange, like a sort of uneasiness. It was not danger, but it made her feel anxious. Scarlett did not take long to figure out that those feelings were not hers. Of hers there was only the urge to run, and if she focused, she was sure she would have been able to find where he was.
What the hell? she thought.
Was Stiles in danger? What kind of danger? There was no plan on their part. Could it be the Argents?
That was strange. Scarlett had no reason whatsoever to care about that boy, so she was quick to throw her phone on the couch, but she was able to take only a few steps before turning back with a groan. Scarlett was quick to take the phone back; she searched for Stiles' contact and pressed the green button.
Scarlett felt even more strange as she waited for him to pick up. That was not his reaction, it was hers. And that bothered her. What was she even doing?
"Scarlett, hey!" Stiles' voice came from the other side of the phone and, for some reason, her anxiety calmed down.
"Hey," she said, a hand went through her hair, frustrated with herself, "I umm—Are you okay?"
"I... yeah, yeah," he said, "Well, I could be better, but—"
"Why?" she asked with a frown. "Where are you?"
"At school—Sorry, how do you know I'm not at home?" he answered, confused. And she could not deny that she shared that confusion.
"I think it's the bond," Scarlett said with a frustrating breath. What the hell was she even doing?
"The bond?" he asked. She could hear his confusion.
"Yeah, I'll explain later," she said, nodding her head even if he could not see her. Then Scarlett realized what he had told her. "You're at school?"
"Yeah," Stiles answered, "Scott is trying to remember what he did to the bus driver." Scarlett had to hold back a groan, to not let him know what she truly thought. "Something that Derek told him to do."
Fucking Derek, she thought, biting her lips. What should she do? Ask away? Would that have been too obvious? She did not have to sound urgent. They would meet later anyway. Maybe it was better not to ask too many questions.
"Use the pack mentality," she decided to say. "That makes sense." It made sense, and it could be a problem. Scott had been too focused on trying to save that piece of shit to care who was there. Peter had pushed her towards the back door of the bus and attacked Scott, but she was not sure he had not seen her.
"Wait... you know?" he asked. She could picture his expression right now: wide eyes and ajar mouth.
Scarlett let out a chuckle. "I believe there are a lot of things I need to explain to you."
"Yeah, definitely," he answered, letting out a low chuckle himself. They stood in silence for some moments, and she could feel his anxiety go away. Another kind of sensation filled her chest; it was warm and comfortable.
What the hell is happening? she asked herself.
Then suddenly the panic came back. "Stiles?" his name slipped through her lips before she could stop herself.
"Wait, wait!" he said, before she could hear the sound of the klaxon going off.
"What the hell is happening over there?" she exclaimed.
"There's a janitor," Stiles was quick to explain. "I gotta go, Scarlett. Wait for me at my house, alright?"
"Stiles!" she called, but she didn't hear him anymore. The only thing she could hear was the sound of the klaxon and of the engine. He had not pressed the end call button. Scarlett thought about hanging up, but she had to know if the puppy knew anything.
"Go, go, go!" Scott's voice came loud and clear, and she could hear Stiles start to drive.
"Did it work?" he asked. "Did you remember?"
"Yes, I was there last night," Scott answered, still out of breath. "And the blood, a lot of it is mine."
"So you did attack him?" Stiles was quick to ask.
Scott denied. "I saw glowing eyes in the bus, but they weren't mine." Scarlett, if possible, listened even more carefully. Did he see only those glowing eyes? Did he see something else? Did he see her?
"It was Derek," Scott's words made her frown. He thought he had seen Derek? What should she do? Tell them otherwise?
"Why would Derek help you remember that he attacked the driver?" Stiles was always quick. It didn't surprise her.
"That's what I don't get," Scott answered.
"It's gotta be a pack thing!" Stiles exclaimed, and Scarlett was honestly shocked at how smart he was. Could he have learned it all only from movies? No, he was just really intelligent, and she knew in that moment that she should be extra careful in trying to lie to him.
The pack thing was correct. To make sure that the pack would stay together, an Alpha would kill along with his Betas. But Scott had resisted that urge. He didn't even collaborate for a moment—he rebelled instantly.
Scarlett decided to hang up the phone. It didn't seem that Scott knew something about her being there, or he would have told Stiles already. And anyway, she thought that if there was any shift in Stiles, she would have felt it.
She decided to go to her motorcycle and drive towards Stiles's house, as he had told her before. She drove in the night, trying to stay focused on the shifting in her feelings. But she felt nothing but frustration. Only that wasn't Stiles's—it was entirely hers. She did not like how she had become so worried when she felt Stiles's feelings.
That was a fucking stupid idea, she thought with frustration. Maybe she should have thought it through better. But at least she had come to know what Scott was doing. So the plan was working. But she was not sure that she appreciated the price.
Scarlett parked just outside the house, next to Stiles's blue jeep. She took her black helmet and walked towards the door. She rang the bell, waiting for Stiles to open the door. While she did so, she noticed that there was no other car in the driveway, so his father wasn't home.
The noise of the door made her turn, but her eyes didn't meet Stiles's—they met Scott's.
"Scarlett, hi," he greeted her. Scarlett quickly observed him, but he didn't seem scared or angry. He seemed almost happy to see her. That calmed her nerves.
"Hi, pup," she said with a grin, and she noticed him blush a little. Scarlett had to keep her fangs inside, but his werewolf's blood made her instantly hungry.
"Is Stiles here?" she asked.
"Yeah," he answered with a little smile. "Come inside."
Scarlett observed the frame of the door. But she couldn't move; her limbs felt blocked and heavy. And Scarlett knew very well why.
"I'd like to," she answered, her eyes still on the frame of the door. "But I need Stiles to tell me that."
Her words made Scott frown in confusion, but before she could explain, she heard fast footsteps running down the stairs. And it didn't take long before she noticed Stiles run to the door, cheeks flushed, heartbeat fast, and a goofy smile.
"So the invitation is a real thing?" he asked, excited, with his big smile.
Scarlett could not hide a smirk. "Are you making experiments on me?" Stiles's smile suddenly dropped.
"What? No!" he was quick to say. "I would never—Scott knows I would never. I was in the bathroom. I had to use the bathroom." Scarlett found his flushed cheeks very appealing. She would have really bitten him—yet again, it was out of hunger.
She let out a light laugh as she observed him, and her reaction made him stop and look at her with his wide eyes. She was not pretending this time—he really managed to make her laugh, and she was aware that she sounded different. Soon he chuckled too, as he observed her kind of sweetly.
"Please, come in," he said, moving aside to make her space.
As he spoke, the heavy feeling on her body lifted instantly, and her limbs were able to move once again. It was kind of funny how she could not make even a step before someone invited her in.
"How does this work?" Stiles asked curiously, as he and Scott observed her as if they were looking at an alien. And maybe she kind of was.
"Evil cannot come in unless we let it in," she answered, observing the entrance of Stiles's house. It was pretty, painted with soft colours, rustic in comparison with the Hales' house.
"Evil?" Scott asked curiously.
Scarlett nodded her head. "That would describe us," she answered with honesty, and she could see the shift in their eyes. So, to calm them, she spoke again, "But you can always take back your invitation—then I'd be forced to leave."
"I'll keep that in mind," Stiles said, letting out a little chuckle. They both seemed to relax, before he showed her the way to the living room.
"I'm sorry," she said as she sat down. "I could be kind of creepy. I don't mean to, it just happens."
"No," Scott answered with a shake of his head.
"Yeah," Stiles backed him up. "Let's say we're used to 'creepy' by now."
Scarlett nodded, understanding. The two of them had been suddenly dragged into all of this. They would soon become used to all the supernatural things.
"What did you want to ask?" she asked politely, crossing her legs elegantly. Stiles and Scott looked at each other before Stiles turned to her.
"Everything," he said, his legs bouncing up and down. "Who are you? Where are you from? And how do you know what pack mentality means?"
"One at a time, Stiles," Scott said to his friend.
Scarlett looked at them for a moment before starting with her story. She needed to be careful—not too much, not too little. Too little trust in them could be strange, but so would too much trust.
"You already know the name, and it is my real name," she said calmly. "And I... let's say I had a bad past. I started to live when I was turned into a vampire."
"Was it long ago?" Stiles asked curiously, but with a hint of worry. He knew for sure that for her to become a vampire she had to be killed. She could feel his concern as he asked. It surprised her that he was speaking to her with such a tone.
"No," she answered. "I'm a young vampire. I got turned eight years ago."
They nodded in silence, but Scott was the one who spoke next.
"Stiles told me you saved his life," he said, his concern visible on his face. "Thank you."
"I would have died if it wasn't for your blood," Stiles said, hinting a smile, but she could feel he was still shaken from what had happened.
"You told me it can... heal?"
"Yes, but it works only on humans," she said, nodding her head again. "It fastens the healing process. But it also has other properties. I can..." she tried to explain, but it was strange even for her. "I can feel you, Stiles."
The blood in his veins ran faster, and the blush appeared once again.
"Feel... me?" he asked, flushed. She could feel her fangs trying to show up—he was truly making her hungry.
"Yeah, like it happened before," she said, still feeling strange about her behaviour. But she pushed that aside, managing to keep her body relaxed.
"As I already told Stiles, this is my first time with a bond." Scarlett let out a little chuckle, as if she were trying to show some kind of embarrassment.
"How does this work?" Scott asked with a little frown.
"Just..." Scarlett thought about it for a moment. "Just—I know what he feels, I guess. Especially if he's anxious, scared, or flustered."
Stiles's eyes grew larger.
"Wha—what are... you... when I'm flushed?" Scarlett could not hide a smirk as she observed him.
"You do it quite a lot when I'm around," she said, showing her white smile, making him stop his always hyperactive movement and turn to her with pink cheeks and mouth ajar.
"Don't worry," she added, tilting her head. "It's cute."
"Oh my god..." he said with embarrassment. Her eyes observed him, as if she could not take her gaze off him. His scent was appealing, and her fangs once again begged her to bite him.
What is happening? she asked herself once again.
"Alright," Stiles said. "My embarrassment aside—you knew about the pack mentality."
Scarlett nodded her head. "As I know that there are hunters in Beacon Hills. Are you aware of that, Scott?"
The puppy's eyes widened. She was expecting his reaction. He was so predictable.
"You know about Allison?"
Always overprotective. And even if he was actually right to be, it was funny to her how he'd jump like a good pet whenever the Argent girl was mentioned.
"I know about the Argents," she answered with a hint of disgust that they picked up. But it didn't bother her.
"Aren't you friends with Allison?" Stiles asked with a frown.
"And that is giving me a lot of moral problems, believe me," she lied, crossing her arms over her chest. "Argents are the most famous of all hunter families—but I'm sure you know."
"Derek told me," Scott answered. "And they almost killed me."
Scarlett didn't know that he had been face-to-face with hunters. He was lucky to be alive.
"Shit..." Scarlett muttered. Then she stood silent for a moment, as if she were taking in what they were saying to her.
"You've got some history with them?" Stiles's question would have surprised her, if she didn't know how intelligent he was. He picked up everything that happened around him, and he researched everything. He could be dangerous, she knew—but at the same time, she respected him for this. Scarlett needed to be careful with her words around him, and the only thing that could work to her advantage was the fact that he was a teenage boy, with a little crush on her.
"You'll make a search on me?" she asked, looking at Stiles.
"I already did," he answered with a nod of his head. "And I know that eight years ago, you disappeared here in Beacon Hills."
Scarlett could not hold back a little smirk as she observed him, impressed.
"Yeah, I got turned here. And after that?"
Stiles shook his head. "Nobody found you after that—or your..."
"Body?" she finished for him. He nodded his head.
"So," Scott spoke once again, "Do you have problems with the Argents?"
Scarlett took a deep breath. "Every supernatural creature has problems with Argents," she answered, her smile dropping as she looked at Scott. "You soon will have too, eventually."
"Then why are you friends with Allison?" Stiles asked again.
Scarlett took another breath as her eyes shifted to him.
"She was the first person that I met at school," she answered. "I found out she was an Argent later on. And anyhow, from the way she behaves, she seems like she has nothing to do with hunters. Or she would know about Scott—or me."
"Her father tried to kill me in the woods," Scott told her. And she took this information as if she had been slapped. She had to remember that she was Allison's friend.
"I was hoping that wasn't the case," she muttered, before taking a breath, as if she were trying to calm her nerves.
"Scott, Argents are not to be trusted," she said, looking at the pup.
"Hunters are not to be trusted. And if her father is hunting in the woods, it's only a matter of time before she does too."
"Allison is not like that," Scott argued. "I know it."
Scarlett observed him in silence. He was fighting so hard for Allison—he truly had fallen under her spell, it seemed. Scarlett pitied him. He would die a horrible death if he kept pursuing a huntress.
"I hope you're right," she said, showing all the sadness she was able to.
After they had spoken for some more, it was time for Scarlett to leave. She was satisfied with the conversation. They knew things about her, and what she felt about the Argents. She had even been able to justify her "friendship" with Allison.
"Thank you for agreeing to this talk," Stiles said to her as he walked towards the door.
"But you still have questions, don't you?" she asked, turning to look at him.
"Lots, actually," he answered, scratching his head with a little laugh.
"That's good," she said, eyeing him—her gaze observing his features and plush skin. His lips and his neck. She truly wanted to bite him.
"Why is that good?" he asked with a frown.
Scarlett giggled. "So that I could be interesting, and maybe you'd ask me out for it at some point."
His brown eyes got wider as the blush appeared once again.
"Ask you out?" his blood rushed in his veins."You... you mean 'hang out'. Hot girls don't want me to ask them out."
"Well, I want you to ask me out," she answered, reaching out with her hand to his cheek so that she could bring him closer. His heart was beating like crazy, and his scent was so good. But she ignored it, pushing his head to the side so that her lips could kiss his cheek.
"Whenever you're ready," she said, pulling back enough so that she could look at him.
"Good night, Stiles."