Chapter Text
If something is going just a little too well, if the pros far outweigh the cons, if your alpha tells you, “It’ll be easy. They won’t suspect a thing. Trust me!” do not, in fact, trust anything but your gut. Because your gut will be telling you it’s a trap that will spring shut when you least expect it. And your gut will absolutely be right.
That’s the lesson Kevin had learned less than five minutes ago. Next time—and god, how he hoped he’d live long enough that there could be a next time—he wouldn’t let Rob talk him into potentially becoming cannon fodder…
The snap of a branch far too close behind him made his heart lurch painfully in his chest. How did an ordinary human manage to not only keep up with him but also gain ground? Sure, he was part of the local law enforcement, so he was probably used to running around, but Kevin was a werewolf. He prided himself on his agility, always having been faster than the humans in their pack.
This was as unprecedented as it was outrageous!
Kevin stumbled and barely caught himself on the trunk of the tree whose stray root had tripped him up. The scrape on his hand stung, but he could already feel it healing. Gaining his footing had cost him a precious second or two, though.
He took off again without looking back. He’d escape the human if it was the last thing he did.
… ugh! He winced. Bad wording. He really needed to practice his pep talks.
Why was the human still keeping up? He was old. Shouldn’t he have started flagging already?
Kevin’s lungs were burning. Where was a convenient cover when you needed one? For being a preserve with a “let’s keep things as natural as possible” approach, its trees had far too much space between them!
He tripped again. And this time, trying to stay upright proved almost impossible. This is it, he thought with a sinking feeling. Now, the human would definitely catch up. He was mad at himself for failing so spectacularly.
Just as he braced himself for the inevitable, there was suddenly a strange electric crackling in the air. He began to shake uncontrollably as the air around him got charged with energy and gained a peculiar, iridescent glow.
The human—the local sheriff, Kevin realized as he got his first good look at his pursuer—was close enough that a shot from his now raised gun might be able to kill a wolf even if he only used ordinary bullets.
Kevin wanted to close his eyes but found himself unable to look away. Which was why he saw in great detail how a shadowy figure formed in the glow and reached for the human.
And then, with a sizzling crack, the energy field collapsed. Kevin could suddenly breathe freely again and sagged against the tree behind him. It was only the deafening silence that clued him in to an important fact: He was alone in the forest.
When the magic—because what else could it have been?—had vanished, so had the sheriff.
What the fuck???
He fumbled for his phone, relieved to see that this far into the preserve, reception wasn’t the strongest, but it was blessedly stable. He tapped Rob’s name with prejudice, impatiently waiting for the call to connect.
“Kevin? It’s a little soon for your check-in. Are things already wrapped up?”
“Wrapped up?” Kevin was aware that his voice sounded shriller than normal, but the situation warranted some hysterics, in his opinion. “You have… you have no idea how batshit crazy this place is! Have you done any research before you sent us here? Or are we just that expendable to you?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
Ohhhh! Was the mighty alpha mad that the lowly beta dared to raise his voice at him? Rob would just have to deal, wouldn’t he? The adrenaline crash Kevin was experiencing right now left him with zero fucks to give.
“You said the True Alpha was too gullible to suspect a hidden agenda—”
“He is!”
“Yeah, but you neglected to mention his rabid right hand. And the local law enforcement.”
“McCall has no dealings with the sheriff’s department.”
“That really doesn’t mean anything if his attack dog starts a brawl that hikers notice a mile away and call it in.”
“So? That pack’s weak enough that a brawl shouldn’t be a problem. You have Jacky with you. What has she been doing?”
“Failing at putting the enchantment on McCall and letting herself be arrested by the deputy on scene. Who’s a fucking hellhound, by the way! If you knew that and thought it too unimportant to mention, I’m gonna go look for a better pack to join!”
“Watch it!” Rob’s growl would have cowed Kevin on an average day, but right now, he was fired up and viciously happy he wasn’t the only one out of his depth.
“Not today, Rob. I’m gonna say my piece, and you’re gonna listen! Whatever your end goal was, here, it’s not worth it, you hear me? I’ve been chased through the forest by a very human sheriff, and he almost caught me. I’m not sure what kind of steroids he’s on, but he was this close to either arresting me or just shooting me. He looked determined enough. If that’s what the humans are like in Beacon Hills, it doesn’t matter how weak the pack is. Especially after that sheriff got bested by something even stronger. Something kidnapped him from right under my nose. And while I’m certainly grateful that I’m still whole and a free man, I’m not willing to mess with whatever lives in the preserve that gets the best of the most dangerous human I’ve ever met. And if you have any sense at all, you shouldn’t either.”
There was a stunned pause while Kevin caught his breath. Then Rob asked suspiciously, “Are you done?”
“Almost. Just one more thing: If you want Jacky back, go get her yourself. I’m not gonna get within a mile of the station. The sheriff may be gone, but there’s still that hellhound around. And whatever he cuffed Jacky with, it suppressed her magic. So I’m staying well away from that. And I’m gonna take the scenic route when coming back. I need some time to myself. Don’t call me!”
Kevin blinked when he realized he had just hung up on his alpha without waiting for a reply. But his phone stayed silent, so apparently, he had gotten his point across. Good!
Now… time to get out of here. The sooner he left Beacon Hills, the better.
~
“When is anyone going to bring up calling Stiles?”
“We’re not telling him!”
Peter narrowed his eyes at Scott. He was used to his suggestions being ignored. And normally, he didn’t care all that much. Most of the time, he just worked around Scott’s idea of what an acceptable plan was. But this was different. This was about Stiles’ father—his only remaining family member. Scott knew that and therefore had no right to leave Stiles in the dark.
“Why not? Stiles used to be the brains behind your plans. With him on board, those plans weren’t just effective, they were efficient. What you’re doing now is neither.”
“Your plan is to call in Stiles, who isn’t even involved and who’s probably pretty busy with his job in San Francisco,” Scott said mulishly, and Peter wanted to shake some sense into him.
“He isn’t involved? His father has gone missing, and you think that wouldn’t concern him?”
“Exactly. It would concern him. But there’s no need for that. I’m sure we’ll find the sheriff soon.”
“You are sure?” Peter asked, sarcasm dripping from every syllable.
“We know where he disappeared. We’ll just have to do a thorough search of the area—”
“If you know where he disappeared, you also know he disappeared without a trace. His scent trail ends in the middle of a barely-there path. There are no holes he could have fallen into. Nowhere to hide, either. And the scent of the wolf he was chasing ends in the backyard of a house near the preserve. I’d say he took someone’s car and is long gone. So there are no immediate clues you can follow to find the sheriff anytime soon without some sheer dumb luck.”
“Where did you get all that information?” Liam asked suspiciously from among the other puppies, somewhere behind Peter.
He didn’t bother turning around as he answered. He kept looking at Scott instead so he wouldn’t miss his reaction. “I’ve already been at the scene. I went back after the beta’s scent trail ended and searched the area where the sheriff disappeared again. There’s nothing. No scent, no sound… If I didn’t know better, I’d say magic was involved.”
Ah, and there it was! Just a minute tensing and a sudden air of unease around him. Scott hadn’t thought Peter would come to the meeting prepared. Shows how well he knows me, Peter thought derisively.
“Are you accusing me of something?”
“Yes, Scott, I’m accusing you. Not of malicious intent, if that’s what you’re worried about. But of incompetence. And arrogance.” He glared at Scott when he tried to interrupt him and continued a little louder, “Because with the facts being as they are, you’re making promises you know you can’t keep. Deaton’s currently out of town. So he can’t help you determine if magic is involved. The witch who was with the beta doesn’t talk—not that I’d expect her to help us after she got arrested. And you don’t have any allies who would just lend you a magic user without compensation. You have nothing of value to offer them. Well, nothing of value I’d let you offer them. What other options do you have if you insist on leaving Stiles out of it?”
“Who do you think you are, trying to dictate what I can or cannot do with my resources?”
“Those resources are tied to the land. Which is still Hale land, no matter how long you’ve been alpha. You give anyone access, you give them an in. And if you have any common sense, that’s the last thing you want. Don’t give anyone leverage. With what the territory has to offer, not many people will play fair. And like hell will I sit back and watch you squander something that’s not even yours.”
“I could just ban you from the territory. See how long it takes for it to stop being Hale land.”
“You can try,” Peter said with a mean smile and left it at that. Let the boy’s imagination come up with possible consequences. He didn’t really care because nothing Scott could do, even with Deaton’s assistance, would ever sever his connection to the land. He’d have to renounce all his rights willingly. And that would never happen.
Scott stared at him for another few seconds, seemed to recognize that Peter wouldn’t say anything more on the matter, and decided to change the topic.
“Anyway, we’ll search the preserve ourselves. I’m not just going to trust your word for it when you say there’s no trace. We’ll also do more patrols and talk to the witch that Jordan arrested. I’m sure she’ll want to go free, so we’ll be able to make a deal here. We don’t need any other help. And that’s final.”
Yeah, absolutely not! Peter refrained from commenting on the mighty alpha’s decree. If Scott thought that meant he would obey it, that was solely on him.
In the meantime, Peter would go visit Stiles.
~
Stiles was coming home at a reasonable time, for once. His team had wrapped up their latest case two days ago, and now his paperwork was done too. And while a new case could land on their desks at pretty much any time, Rafe had promised them at least twelve hours off. Stiles couldn’t wait to get his shoes and tie off and relax on his couch with a beer and something mindless on TV.
Which was why he felt dread rising in him the moment he saw Peter sitting on the stairs in front of his apartment building.
These days, the two of them were friends. It was hard for Stiles not to become attached to the one who kept him informed of everything that was going on in Beacon Hills. In a perfect world, that person would have been Scott, but they’d lost that closeness before high school had even been over. It didn’t bother him as much as it used to. He was fine with Peter being the spokesman for the pack as long as Scott took care of the territory. But while he spoke to Peter frequently, they rarely saw each other in person. That he was here now…
“Hello, Peter. What crisis brings you to my humble abode?”
“Does there have to be a crisis for me to come visit you?” Peter asked, getting up to let Stiles pass.
That question paired with a far too innocent smile was all the answer Stiles needed. He felt a slight tremor start in his hands. Perfect! There went his relaxing evening.
“No, but since you’ve never visited me before—despite the open invitation, I might add—it’s likely an unpleasant reason that brought you here.”
Peter’s answering sigh spoke volumes.
Once he had his apartment door closed behind them, he fixed Peter with a stare.
“Spit it out. How bad is it?”
“Well, considering the people who are involved… Maybe a medium crisis?”
“And who is involved?” Stiles was getting impatient now. Peter was stalling, so there was a chance that “medium crisis” was underselling the situation.
“Mostly Scott and two members of a slightly less incompetent pack he was negotiating with.” Peter paused and seemed to steel himself. “The negotiations went south, the sheriff’s department got involved… And now your father is missing.”
Whoa! Why was the room moving? Why was it getting dark all of a sudden? Why couldn’t he breathe?
“—iles. Stiles! Focus!”
There was a hand on the nape of his neck and something solid pressing against his forehead that he hazily identified as Peter’s shoulder. The rushing in his ears was slowly quieting down. He was thankful for Peter’s strong grip on him because that was the only thing keeping him upright at the moment.
“What do you mean my father is missing?” he asked faintly. There were too many possibilities, each of them capable of shattering his world if he thought about them too long.
He felt more than heard Peter take a deep, fortifying breath.
“From what I gathered, Scott took Liam and one of the other puppies to the preserve to meet the right hand and emissary of a pack that wanted to negotiate a treaty.”
“From what you gathered?”
“I didn’t know he had arranged the meeting, or I’d have been there, I promise. When they contacted Scott, I told him to be careful. I hadn’t heard of the pack before, so they’re either from farther away or so new they’d gain far more from a treaty than Scott would. I told him to expect an ulterior motive. After that, he didn’t bring it up again. Obviously not because he’d listened to me, but because he wanted to do the exact opposite from what I would do.”
“Obviously,” Stiles sighed tiredly. It had been eight years since Scott got turned, and he still hadn’t let go of his animosity. At this point, there was little chance he ever would. And it didn’t do him any favors.
“So, they met,” Peter continued, “and something went wrong. I heard Liam say that something felt off to him about the two visitors. And when the emissary tried to do something fishy, he attacked.”
“Oh man, I thought he was past his anger issues?”
“The way he talked about it, I suspect there’s more to it. But I haven’t figured out what yet.”
“All right, and how did dad get involved in that mess?”
“Apparently, some hikers heard the commotion and called it in. Since Jordan didn’t know about any scheduled meetings either, they assumed it was a mundane issue and went to check it out together.”
Stiles made an unhappy sound at that. Scott was supposed to keep the territory safe, not endanger the people that mattered to Stiles. Sure, the way Peter was explaining it, Scott wasn’t directly to blame, but still…
“They had to break up a brawl, and Liam’s hunch was probably right because Jordan said the emissary was trying to cast some magic. He got her arrested, but the wolf fled.”
“Let me guess. Dad gave chase?”
“And you wouldn’t have?”
“Touché… Was that when he went missing?”
“Yeah. I followed their trail, and at some point, your father’s just ended, while the other one continued until he must have found a car to steal.”
“Could the wolf have taken him?”
“No, I don’t think so. Unless he found a way to conceal his scent. But since the one magic user in the area was already under arrest, I doubt it. There wasn’t any sign of a fight either. The way it looked to me, he simply vanished into thin air.”
“How?”
“That’s what I was hoping you might be able to find out when you looked at the scene yourself.”
“Why isn’t Deaton looking into it?”
“Haven’t seen him for about two weeks. He’s been gone more often than not lately. No clue what he’s up to or why he thinks Scott’s capable of handling things on his own. Although, if he believes whatever Scott says, then nothing can go wrong in his absence. Scott’s sure he can find your father without help.”
“Is he now?” Something in Stiles grew cold with a sudden sneaking suspicion. Peter had said he was hoping Stiles could figure out what happened. Not we. “Does he know you’re here?”
“No.”
So, that hurt. Despite everything, he had thought Scott’s dislike wouldn’t run that deep. Because what other reason could he have to exclude him? He knew how Stiles felt about family, after all.
“Does he honestly think I wouldn’t want to be there and look for my father myself?”
He was grateful when Peter tugged him closer and made soothing noises. It did wonders for his fraying nerves. And here he’d thought he’d settled into professional mode with admirable promptness. Trust Scott to still be the one who slipped under his guard the easiest.
“Look, I get it,” Peter said. “That’s why I came here despite his orders. If there’s someone who knows how important your father is to you, it’s me. The only reason I can function on bad days is knowing that Derek and Cora are safe and happy. We cherish what little is left of our families.”
One of the things they had bonded over since Stiles had left Beacon Hills. Peter had come a long way that he could admit those things freely now, even if only to Stiles.
“Thanks, really. I mean, I can understand that Scott doesn’t get what that feels like. He still has both his parents, no matter how estranged he is from his own father. But he still should have called me. I have resources. I deal with things like that, and worse, on a nearly daily basis. This is literally my job! And I can hear Rafe already harping about being emotionally compromised. But fuck this! If you’re right, and this is only a medium crisis, we could be done with this in a few days. The sooner I have my dad back, the better.”
“That’s the spirit! If you pack now, we can be on the road in maybe half an hour. Be in Beacon Hills before midnight.”
“I always have a bag ready. We can leave right now.”
Peter smiled at him. “Okay, but I’m driving.”
“What? Why?”
“First, it’s my car. You’re not touching that. Second, you’re far too keyed up to drive safely. I want us to arrive in one piece. Third, if you’re not driving, you can start with your research while we’re still on our way. I can see your wheels already turning.”
“Fine, you win. Give me a second to pack some extra equipment, then.”
“Of course. Want me to carry some of that?”
Did Peter sound fond? Eager, even?
Whatever. Stiles would revisit that thought later. Now he had more important things to do.
