Chapter Twenty-Three

Stiles's Jeep sits atop a rotary lift underneath which a mechanic uses an impact gun to break free a particularly tight bolt on the exhaust. Pushing through the door of the waiting room, Stiles waves his hands, trying to get the Mechanic's attention.

He was complaining to me about them being way too long with it, and that it was a simple to fix, it shouldn't take this long. I told him to talk to the mechanic about it, not me. So, he's doing exactly that.

"Hey, hey! What the hell do you think you're doing? All I needed was the starter." Stiles questioned the mechanic.

"Yeah, but it looks like your whole exhaust system's got to be replaced too." The Mechanic informed Stiles.

"Why do I get the feeling you're slightly overestimating the damage?" Stiles winced.

"Probably going to run about twelve hundred for parts and labour." The Mechanical wasn't lying; I could sense that he was telling the truth. Stiles gave me a look for confirmation about him lying, and I winced, nodding.

Stiles looked annoyed. "Are you kidding? This thing doesn't even have a catalytic converter. And yeah, I know what a catalytic converter is."

"You know what a limited slip differential is?" The Mechanic shot back.

"No," Stiles muttered.

The mechanic eyes the exhaust. "Could be more like fifteen hundred."

"Just finish. I'll be back here. Seething with impotent rage." Stiles muttered angrily to himself and turned on his heel, walking back to the waiting room and I followed. Stiles grabs the waiting room door handle, but his hand slips on a clear, sap-like substance. I frowned and did the same thing, unsure why I did, but I had the same sap-like substance. "Paige, really?"

"What?"  I asked innocently.

"Nice. Sanitary." Stiles rolled his eyes and glanced back over to the mechanic. "Quality establishment you're running here." No longer listening, the Mechanic fires up a drill and gets back to work. I rolled my own eyes and placed my hand back on the door and opened it fully, entering. I walked over to the wipes and began to wipe them off.

I turned around to Stiles, wiping it off on his jeans. "Seriously, Stiles?" I grabbed a few more tissues and walked over to his pants, and began to clean him.

"Paige, stop being a Mom," Stiles whined, taking out his phone.

"Someone has to Mom you." I barely registered the joke I made, and saw Stiles' face fall. "Stiles—"

"No, it's okay," Stiles cracked a small, fake smile. I frowned, feeling guilty. "In fact, it's so okay, I might call Scott and tell him about it."

I giggled, feeling slightly better. But, he was being dead serious as I saw him punch in the numbers. "Stiles, don't!"

"What the..." Stiles muttered. I watched as he takes the phone with his left hand while trying to flex the fingers of his right. But when both hands lose strength, the phone slips from his grasp and clatters to the floor.

"Stiles..." I felt my own fingers not about to move. Even as a werewolf, I'm paralyzed. Not only could I feel his panic, but mine also began to build too. I felt myself collapse one knee on the ground,  I glanced over at the substance on the door, wondering if that could've been the cause.

Through the glass window - we see the Mechanic digging through a tool chest while above him, something moves inside the Jeep. My heartbeat rises. Perched within, a shadowy figure reaches its ink black-skinned and muscular arm through the open window. 

"Hey—hey!" Stiles and I called out, trying to grab the mechanics' attention. The Mechanic looks up as the creature darts out of the Jeep's window. Tail whipping about, a clawed hand slashes at the back of the Mechanic's neck. Knocked off his feet, he falls to the floor of the pit below the Jeep.

Almost simultaneously, a frightened Stiles falls to his knees in the waiting room as the paralysis takes hold. He collapses, face hitting the floor, joining me. Stiles tried to call 9-1-1, but unfortunately, I was in too much pain.

"Help..." I found myself whispering, the pain is unbearable. My chest felt like it was tightening and I felt like I could pass out from the lack of oxygen that was in my lucks.

"P...Paige?" Stiles stuttered out. "What did you say?"

"Help—" I croaked out then let out a gasp of air, breathing heavily and I felt so much lighter as a whole. "Oh, my God, he's dead."

⇉

Under the flare of red and blue lights from Deputy Sheriff's cars, Stiles and I sit in the back of an ambulance. Our flexes are now mobile hands while talking to his father, Sheriff Stilinski and my father.

"I told you, I just walked in and saw the Jeep on top of the guy. That's all." Stiles lied to them. I had a blanket wrapped around me, and I felt anxious being in front of my Dad with my newfound abilities. But, I tried to hum under my breath quietly, to distract myself.

"And is that how you saw it, Paige?" Dad questioned me.

I nodded. "Yeah, I didn't see much because I was in the waiting room." I continued on the lie, and Stiles nodded, agreeing with me.

"What's wrong with your guy's hand?" Sheriff Stilinski asked us, both noticing our hands.

"Nothing. Can we get out of here now?" Stiles asked his Dad. I looked at my Dad with pleading eyes.

"If there's something you don't feel like you can tell me..." Sheriff Stilnski glanced at both of us.

"You think we're lying?" Stiles asked, trying to sound offended.

"Of course not. I just worry about you guys. And if maybe you saw someone do this, if you guys are afraid they might come back to make sure you don't say anything about it..." Sheriff Stilinski went into all protective mode.

"We didn't see anything. At all. Can we go, please?" Stiles begged his father.

"Yeah. But not in your Jeep. We're going to have to impound it. Sorry, kiddo. Evidence." Sheriff Stilinski  urns, heading back to the crime scene.

Dad kissed my forehead before following Sheriff Stilinski. "Well, make sure they wash it!" Stiles called after his father.

After texting and calling Scott to pick us up, he finally did. Stiles gets into the passenger side, slamming it closed. I too climbed in and slammed it respectfully. "You guys okay?" Scott looked at us with concern.

"You were right. It's not like you. Its eyes were almost... reptilian. But there was something about them." Stiles informed.

"Wait, you've seen this thing before?" I asked, my eyes widening.

"Yeah, me and Allison saw it when with the full moon," Scott explained. "It tried to attack her, but I stopped it."

"Oh, she didn't tell me that." I felt slightly hurt that she didn't care to inform me.

"But, anyways, Stiles, what do you mean?" Scott turned back to Stiles.

"You know how when you see a friend in a Halloween mask, but all you can actually see is their eyes? You feel like you know them, but you can't figure out who it is." Stiles tried his best to explain.

"Are you saying you know who it is?" Scott asked, and I looked at Stiles, surprised.

"No. But I think it knew Paige and me."

⇉

Later that day, Allison and I could be found sitting out in the courtyard at lunchtime. We laughed and talked while we waited for Scott and Stiles to start sending messages. Stiles would be running back and forward, being Allison and Scott's messenger for each other. I find it hilarious since this is the only way they're able to communicate without being seen together.

Stiles had shown up, blurting out everything Scott had told him. "I think you mean—" Allison tried to correct him, but he cut her off.

"No, I mean Bestiary. And the two of you—I don't want to know what's going on in your heads." Stiles snapped, and I couldn't help but laugh at his frustration.

"Can you describe this thing?" Allison asked him.

"It's probably a book. Old, worn—"

"Like bound in leather?" Allison asked. "I think my Grandfather has one. Tell Scott that." They've been trying to determine if Gerard, Allison's grandfather, has a book about supernaturals.

"Oh, you must remind me, while we get a copy of this so-called Bestiary, I need to borrow it." I requested.

"Uh, why?" Allison gives me a look.

"Because I don't think I'm just a werewolf," I explained to her, and she gives me a look, saying to continue. "Okay, so, like, you know how werewolves can feel others' emotions?" Allison nods. "Well, I can do that, but it feels like I'm actually them as a whole. Their entire emotions, status, everything. It's weird."

"That's kinda cool," Allison told me.

I shake my head. "Not really, especially if it's one of you guys. For a normal stranger, I can only feel their emotions, lightly. I'd have to guess and be spot on. But, with you guys, I actually feel your pain, and it's beginning to freak me the fuck out. Like, with what happened to Lyds at the rink, I could feel her fear, shock, and confusion hitting me at once. But, that wasn't another weird thing, I..." I looked around nervously.

Allison was invested and leant forward. "You what?"

"I think I was in Lydia's head," I whispered. Her eyes widen in surprise. "Don't look at me like I'm crazy, please, I know it sounds weird. But hear me out; what if, I'm not just a regularly boring, werewolf?"

"You think you're also something else?" Allison guessed, and I nodded. "Like a... What are they called when the Supernatural things combined?"

"No clue," I respond. "But, that's why I need the book—"

"Where... does he... keep it?" Stiles pants, and I giggled.

"The office," Allison replied, and Stiles ran off again, before turning to me and grabbing my hands. "I promise you, Paige, I will help you figure out this whole thing. And besides, I'm sure it's nothing bad. Right?"

"Let's pray to God. I feel like I'm going insane with these emotions right now." I admitted.

I watched as Stiles came sprinting back, and he stopped by us, taking a pull on Scott's inhaler. "You know, drug dealers have been using disposable cell phones pretty successfully for years." Stiles ranted.

"My parents check every call, e-mail and text message I send. Trust me, they'd find it." Allison explained.

"Can you get the book?" Stiles asked her.

"Not without his keys," Allison replied. Stiles ran off again, and I smiled, chuckling. Allison gives me a look. "What was that?"

"What was what?" I asked innocently. She faked, chuckled and twirled her hair dramatically. "No!"

Allison beamed. "Yes! Are you crushing on Stiles?"

I blushed deeply. "No."

Allison pouted. "Are you sure? You're red as a beetroot right now." I glowed my yellow eyes at her, getting pissed off.

She jumped in surprise, which caused me to snap out of it. "Sorry, Allie... I'm still trying to learn how to control it." I admitted to her. She smiled at me; I felt her pity. "Don't feel pity for me, Allison."

"I forgot you're good at that," Allison muttered. The bell rang, indicating that it was time to go home. Finally. "Let's go home, yeah?"