A/N: Hi new readers! Welcome to my story, I really hope you like it. Please review, I'll love you forever :] Summary: Katherine's life gets thrown into a whirlwind after she figures out that her best friends a werewolf. She's pulled into a world that no one believed to ever exist. Add the mysterious Derek Hale to the mix, and feelings begin to get in the way with the supernatural. But what happens when a certain alpha named Peter sets his eye on her and she's marked to be next?
That One Night
Chapter Song: Help by Abandon
Scott McCall inhaled a puff of his inhaler.
There was no reason in my right mind I should be doing this right now. I should be in bed, fast sleep, preparing for a busy first day of junior year tomorrow. But it was my last night of summer, and in Stiles words, we should 'live it up' since I was always the one 'bitching about how nothing happens in this town'. Leaves crunched beneath my boots as I quietly tried to sneak through the forest along side my best friends, Scott and Stiles. Usually, the woods were lifeless at night, the only things lurking in them would be the small woodland creatures, but tonight was different. It was swarmed with police from here in Beacon hills and the nearest three cities. And then there was Stiles, Scott and I who were insane to secretly tag along and them and look for the dead body they were all searching for. That's right, dead body; two hikers found it early this evening. It was cut in half…let me rephrase myself: someone cut it in half.
"And what if whoever killed the body is still out here?" Scott asked Stiles, as we climbed up a hill-drop off.
"Huh, I didn't think of that." Stiled shrugged it off like it was a simple everyday comment.
"It's great to know your little attention to detail never fails to keep you from planning these things and involving us." I spat. Scott pressed an inhaler to his mouth and breathed in a puff of the drug as he began wheezing. He pressed his back against a tree and tried catching his short breaths. Unlike Stiles, I waited for Scott and he finally took his first few steps up the hill. When I reached the top, both the boys fell down to the ground, Stiles pointing the flashlight forward.
"What are you idiots doing?" I asked, standing up. Stiles grabbed my wrist and forced me down to the ground. Then I saw what the boys were seeing, dozens of police were everywhere, shining their flashlight at random and holding back police dogs that were barking rabidly.
"Let's go!" Stiles ordered, shuffling up and running into the woods.
"Stiles!" Scott's call was muffled, his inhaler being pressed against his lips. We both scurried to catch up with him, dodging the beams of police flashlights.
"Stiles!" I called. He turned around but then a dog barked behind him, causing him to clumsily fall over. Shoot, we were caught. I pressed my body behind a tree. From where I stood, Scott was doing the same.
"Stay right there!" A familiar policeman ordered in a yell, pointing the flashlight to the ground where Stiles was struggling.
"Hold it," it was Sheriff Stilinski, "this little delinquent belongs to me." Stiles got up and shaded his eyes from the flashlight blinding him.
"Dad," he chuckled, "what are you doing here?"
"Do you listen into all my phone calls? His dad scolded.
"No…" he paused, "not the boring ones." Stiles gave an innocent smile that somehow never got him out of the trouble he put himself into.
"Where are your usual partners in crime?"
"Partners in crime? Who? What? No. Its just me…in the woods…alone" Stiles was a terrible liar, always have been always will.
"Scott? Katherine? You out there?" Sheriff Stilinski called. There had to be some way for Scott and I to disappear before Stile's terrible lies gave the Sherriff ideas. As I thought about how to get away, a sheriff dog snuck up on me and began barking furiously. I gasped, jumping into the air and stumbling out of my hiding place. Sherriff Stilinski's flashlight fell on me.
"Hi Mr. Stilinski." I bit my lip, busted. I could feel a few drops of rainfall on my skin. Stile's dad was soaked in a mix of rain and sweat. Gross. A rumbled of thunder sounded overhead. It was time for us to go.
"Okay, where's Scott?" He demanded an answer.
"Scott's at home. He wanted to get some rest for practice tomorrow." I lied, which seemed more believable than what Stiles said.
"Both of you come with me, I'm walking you back to your car and making sure you go straight home." He took both of us by the arm, like we were five years old, and led us to Stile's Jeep that was parked outside the forest limits. Sherriff Stilinski ordered the rest of the officers to keep the search going while he escorted us back. My eyes fell on Stiles, mouthing 'what about Scott?' to him. Scott was on his own for now. While we walked back in silence through out the woods, something caught my eye. They were two large red dots looming in the bushes. It blinked. Were those eyes? When I stopped and turned to Sherriff Stilinski to say something, they disappeared.
"I want you to drop Katherine off and then get your ass straight home or I will personally lock you in a jail cell for a week for trespassing on investigation property."
"Yes dad." Stiles sighed and we were thrown into the Jeep. Stiles started up the car and drove off, occasionally looking in the rearview mirror to see if his dad was still watching us as we drove away, which he was.
"What about Scott? We can't just leave him back there! What if the killers still in there?"
"You head my dad, if he finds me in there he'll lock me up!"
"Stiles, he's your dad of course he's going to say that."
"Besides, with every police officer in town out looking for that body, the killers way gone." Rain began pelting the window and I could hear a howl of some sort emanate from the woods. I really hope Scott's okay.
"God, if there was one thing I liked most about summer it'd be the not getting up early part." I complained, getting out of Stile's bright blue Jeep.
"Tell me about it." Stiles sighed, slinging his backpack over both shoulders.
"Did you hear from Scott?" I pulled my phone out for the ninth time this morning,
"I called him, he was really short with me. Something about getting bit by something."
"What?" I exclaimed.
"I don't know, he hung up!"
"Stiles, I saw something in the bushes last night."
"Something like the dead body something or something something?"
"Something, something. It was when your dad was walking us to your car. It was these bright red eyes."
"Hate to break it to you, but eyes aren't red." Stiles suppressed a laugh. I purposely elbowed him in the side.
"Really? You think I didn't know that?"
"Well you're the one who said you saw red eyes."
"I don't know if it's eyes, but they were these red dots and I'm almost sure I saw them blink!" Stiles was quiet for a second, which was extremely rare for him and his big mouth.
"Are you sure you weren't just seeing things?"
"No and that's why I'm nervous we haven't heard from—"
"Scott!" Stiles gaped, "he's here!" A wave of relief came over him as he began laughing.
"Scott!" I cried as we ran over to him. He winced as he turned to us.
"What the hell? What happened to you last night?" I asked him.
"Let's see it." Said Stiles, with a smile on his face. Scott pulled up his shirt to show a large square of gauze tapped down to the side of his stomach. A small stain of blood tainted the middle of it.
"What happened?" I gasped, hating the sight of blood.
"I'm pretty sure it was a wolf that bit me." Scott put his shirt back down, Stiles and my brows rose dramatically.
"A wolf bit you?" Stiles seemed to think Scott was crazy.
"Uh-huh." He nodded.
"No, not a chance." Stiles disagreed.
"I heard a wolf howling."
"I heard a howl last night too…" I added.
"No you didn't." Scott and I looked at Stiles and mentally told him to shut the hell up. An amusing smile crossed Scott's face.
"Pretty sure I did."
"Nope, California doesn't have wolves. At least not for sixty years." Stiles informed.
"Fine," Scott shrugged, "if you don't believe me about the wolf, then you're defiantly not gonna believe me when I tell you I found the dead body." Our eyes grew big.
"You-wha-are you kidding me?" Stiles jumped back.
"I wish, I'm gonna have nightmare for a month." I looked behind Scott to see queen-bee bitch Lydia Martin walking with her friend bottle blonde friend. God, the one person I couldn't stand seeing.
"That is freaking awesome! Seriously, that's the best thing that's happened in this town since the birth of Lydia Martin—aye Lydia," Stiles turned around as she went right passed him, "you look…like your gonna ignore me." He sighed, his hand falling to his side.
"Ugh God, Stiles never gives up." The bottle blonde groaned.
"What's a Stiles?" Lydia idiotically thought.
"You've known her since the 7th grade and yet she still doesn't know your name." Scott mocked.
"Whatever." Mumbled Stiles, and we were off to first period. English was one of my best subject, but having it first period made me want to fall asleep. Partially way into the period, I noticed Scott frantically looking around while we were supposed to be reading the fifth chapter in Kafka's Metamorphosis. My brows furrowed, turning to Scott.
"What's wrong?" I mouthed to him, but he ignored me and began staring out the window. My eyes rolled, Scott was acting way to strange for my liking. A minute later, the door opened and along side our vice principal, stood a pale, brunette girl who was catching the eye of every guy in class, including Scott.
"Class, this is your new student Alison Argent. Please do your best to make her feel welcome." After Alison walked off to take her seat, the vice principal walked out of the room. She took a seat behind Scott, and the moment she sat down, Scott turned around and handed the girl a pen. Alison looked up, surprised as if she needed the item.
"Thanks." She smiled.
"I don't know what it was, it was like I had all the time in the world to catch the ball." Scott explained as Stiles, him, and I trudged through the forest on a mission to find his inhaler.
"You've been practicing all summer, maybe you just got that good." I suggested the idea. You don't get that good at lacrosse overnight.
"It's not the only weird thing, I've been hearing things and smelling things I shouldn't."
"Smelling things?" Stiles laughed.
"Yeah, like the mint gum in your pocket." I looked to Stiles.
"I don't have—" he searched through his jacket pocket and pulled out a piece of green gum half out of the package.
"Ew, how long has that been there." I muttered, realizing that was the gum I carried around with me at times.
"I think I've heard of this. Yeah, it's an infection."
"What? Really?" Scott's eyes bugged out.
"It's called lycanthropy."
"Is that bad?" I asked, unaware of where Stiles was headed.
"Yeah, it gets bad once a month." He shoved his hands in his pocket.
"Well, when?" Scott was pulling answers out of him.
"On the night of the full moon." And with that, Stiles howled.
"Stop being a dick." I shoved him.
"Something's seriously wrong with me!" Scott cried.
"Let's just drop this whole lycanthropy-Scott's turning into a werewolf stuff and find his inhaler because personally, I'd rather not fall victim to some murder attack." I clasped my hands together.
"Fine." Stiles mumbled.
"I swear it dropped right about here. I saw the dead body and ran, then I fell." He crouched down to the ground and began rummaging through the leaves.
"Maybe the killer took it when he moved the dead body."
"I hope not, that thing cost like eighty bucks." Scott whined.
"I'll look over there." I sighed, walking backwards and then finally turning around, a gasp escaping my mouth. In front of me, stood a man around his late teens—probably nineteen or twenty. He was dressed in all black. His skin was beautifully pale and his short black hair split off in different directions. Stiles and Scott whipped around after hearing me gasp. The man began walking towards me.
"What do you think your doing here?" His eyes came into view, and they were a captivating green mixed with flecks of blue. I opened my mouth to speak but the man spoke for me.
"Huh? This is private property."
"I'm sorry." I apologized.
"We didn't know, we were looking for something, but forget it." Scott replied. The man took something out of his pocket and threw it to Scott. When I turned around, Scott was holding his inhaler in his hands. Without another word, the man turned around and walked away. I walked to the boys, confused at the mysterious man.
"Dude, do you know who that was?"
"No…" Scott eyed his inhaler and shoved it in the depths of his pocket.
"That was Derek Hale! You remember right? He's only like a few years older than us." Stiles paused, "his whole family, they all burned to death in a fire like ten years ago."
"Then what's he doing back?" We all wondered. Stiles forced us to leave since he was creeped out, but as we ventured away, I turned around to see Derek watching us leave. We locked eyes for a second, but then I split away.
Music blared from the speakers on the lacrosse field. It was that time of year again—tryouts. Family and friends of the players were sitting on the cold bleachers waiting for the game to start. I watched as Stiles and Scott were on the opposite side from me, fighting about something. Scott was up first.
"Wait—Scott!" Stiles called, but Scott ran away to the field. I watchd the first five minutes of the game, feeling bad for Scott because, from what it looked like, Jackson Whittemore's number one motive was to knock Scott down as many chances as he got.
"You hang out with Scott a lot, don't you?" A girls voice snuck up behind me. I looked to my side to see Alison.
"Yeah…" My brows furrowed, eyes narrowing to her.
"Sorry, that was a weird way of introducing myself," she giggled, "I'm Alison."
"Katherine," I greeted, "and yes, Scott's my best friend."
"What do you know about him?" She watched the boy in the number eleven-jersey sprint down the field.
"He's an awesome guy who somehow just got absolutely fantastic at lacrosse. Why?" I curiously asked.
"Because he's taking me to Jackson's party on Friday. You're coming, right?"
"I'm not much of a party kind of girl." I admitted.
"Come on, it'll be fun!" Alison urged.
"I don't know," I sighed, "I'm more of the stay in the corner by myself, watch a movie kind of person. Lame I know." She laughed.
"Please come! It'll be fun, and I want to get to know you better. You seem really nice."
"Wow, I don't get that to often, you must be a really good friend." A smile broke out onto my face. Alison barked a laugh. We turned back our attention to the field just in time to watch Scott go pro-athlete on us and tear up the field, dodging everyone who came at him. Lastly, he jumped up and flipped himself over mid-air, then threw the ball into the net, scoring the shot. Alison and I shot up, cheering for him. The crowd, especially Jackson and Stiles, looked stunned.
"McCall, get over here!" Coach Finstock yelled. Scott trotted over, taking off his helmet and pressing it against his side.
"What in god's name was that?" He pointed to the field, "this is a lacrosse field! What are you trying out for, the gymnastics team?" How could Coach Finstock be so angry about what Scott just did? That was the best plays I've ever seen from the team!
"I don't know, Scott stuttered, "I was just trying to make the shot."
"Yeah, and you know what else you made? First line! You're starting buddy!" The crowd erupted in a cheer, hearing the news since Coach Finstock was basically yelling it.
"Wow, I never knew Scott was this good at Lacrosse!" Alison exclaimed.
"Me neither." I let my happiness for him to override the suspicious thoughts of that Scott was suddenly so good at the game he's been sitting on the bench for all of his life.
Thank God it's Friday. That was my motto for the day. Much to my surprise, the first week of school had flown by—but of course, not without the usual drama. Scott and Stiles have been acting unusually suspicious, they were up to something but every time I was around they acted like all was right in the world. Did they think I was that dumb? Every time I tried confronting them about it, they used some lame excuse like 'I've got to get to lacrosse practice' or 'look at the time, got to go'. These boys must think I was an idiot. I slid on my leather jacket over my dark purple tank top and pulled on my slouch boots over my black jeans. It was time for the stupid party Alison was begging me to go to. Jackson Whittemore was one of the biggest jerks I've ever met, and he was throwing this party at the mansion of a home he lived in. Throw him and a major party into the mix and I was bound to have one of the worst nights of my life. I could count myself sitting in a corner the whole time. While fixing up my eyeliner, Stiles jeep pulled into my driveway and then obnoxiously honked. Sliding my phone in my pocket, I quickly headed downstairs and locked the door behind me since my parents were on date night together and wouldn't be back till late.
"Hey!" Stiles greeted over the radio.
"Hi." I drearily replied.
"Why the long face?"
"Because I don't want to go!"
"Then why are you going?"
"Because Allison talked me into it, and I don't know, she said she wanted to hang out."
"So you're best friends with Alison now?"
"Nooo," I dragged on, "but she wants to be friends."
"Give a good word in for Scott, he's trying hard with her."
"Speaking of Scott, what the hell's been going on with him for the past week?"
"Something going on with Scott? Nothing, he's just being his normal, weird self."
"Stiles, has anyone told you that you're the worst liar in history?"
"I'm not lying!" He cried. He was lying.
"I'm not stupid, something's going on with you two. You were fighting on the field Tuesday during practice, you've been frantic, and truth be told, right now you look like you saw a ghost."
"It's nothing. Scott's just been going through changes to make room for Allison." Stiles attempted to assure me.
"Changes? Okay, what drug is he on?" Stiles pressed his palm to his forehead.
"Kat, he's fine." And that was the end of the discussion till we arrive at the Whittemore mansion.
"You can't help me for being worried about my best friend." I shrugged.
"Yeah, but if he's fine there's nothing to be worried about." The front yard of the mansion was filled at least one-third of the school, each of them holding a red SOLO cup in their hands. I watched a group of guys stumble on the stairs: they were already drunk. The music was blaring from the backyard, so that's where Stile's and I headed. Every sophomore, junior, and senior could be found here. There were hundreds of them, and it made me want to gag. They all smelled like beer and smoke. After heading to the backyard, we found a full bar. I watched Stiles snag a beer bottle and pour it into a cup. Lydia walked over, bumping into my in the process, and poured Smirnoff into her half empty cup. We looked at each other and she sneered, walking away to go hook up with Jackson for the fifth time tonight. Stiles had wandered off somewhere, leaving me to my lonesome self.
"Hey! You're here!" Allison found me.
"Yeah," I sighed, "I figured it was better than sitting home and watching reruns of How I Met Your Mother." She laughed.
"That's the spirit. Hey, I'm gonna go dance with Scott, want to come?"
"Rather not be a third wheel on the date, but thanks." .I gave her a fake smile as I poured a can of coke inside a red cup. Allison gave a quick goodbye and walked off to go dance with Scott. Now, I was alone in a crowd of over one hundred people. Eventually, I weaved my way through the crowd and sat myself on the chaise lounge beside the large pool. The barking of a large dog caught my attention, and my head lifted up. A Doberman was barking against a fence, his snout bearing teeth and the person standing in front of the railing. It was Derek Hale and his eyes were focused on Scott. Scott was staring back. Derek turned around, looking at the dog and it quit barking immediately. Scott turned his attention back to Allison, and Derek caught me staring. The fire pit in front of him lighted up his face. As he looked back at me, if it was as if his eyes were burring into my soul—like he was reading every thought I was thinking. God he looked hot in that shirt. It clung to his muscles in all the right places.
"Hey." Danny Mahealani, goalie for the lacrosse team, came up to me and smiled. Danny happened to be Jackson's best friend. Unlike his best friend though, Danny was actually really nice. So what was he doing with a stuck up jerk like Jackson? Hell if I knew.
"Hey." I tried looking passed him to see Derek, but he had disappeared. Where'd he go? Scott's head was turned up, looking at the roof for Derek. Why would he be there? The huge full moon caught my eye as a deadmau5 song came on the stereos.
"You don't look like you're having to much fun." Danny took a seat next to me.
"Danny, how long have you known me? This isn't my scene." I laughed.
"I'm getting kind of bored of it anyways." He agreed. We looked over to Lydia, who was up against a wall with Jackson sucking away at her neck.
"Tell me, how is it okay for Lydia and Jackson to basically start having sex out here." I observed, Lydia glared daggers at me.
"Because it's his party. Jackson's Jackson, he does what he wants."
"And this is why I really like you." I laughed, sipping on my coke. Before Danny could say another word, I heard Alison calling Scott's name. He was slowly walking away from her, clutching his head. He wouldn't leave Alison's side even if his hair was on fire, what was going on?
"Alison and Scott breaking up already?" His eyebrows crooked.
"Something's up. Danny, hold this for a second." I mindlessly gave him the cup of coke and chased after Scott. Alison was pushing her way through the busy crowd and in front of her. Then I spotted Stiles, who was doing the same. Once I reached the front door, I could see Stile's sprinting to his Jeep. He was my ride home!
"Stiles!" I dashed down the many sets of steps. Alison was frozen, her gaze headed down the street where a pair of taillights were headed. Stiles started up his car and sped after the car, which had to been Scott's.
"Stiles!" I called, stopping next to Alison as Stiles drove right past us. I threw my hands up in exasperation; the only thing going through my mind was 'what the hell just happened'. Alison turned to me with a confused expression dawned on her face.
"Scott was my ride home."
"Stiles was mine."
"What happened? Something happened to Scott, he was dizzy or something." She expressed.
"Honestly, I have no clue. I'll call Stiles to come back and pick us up, okay?" I assured her. Allison nodded and informed me that she was going to go back to the party until he arrived again. As she walked away, I ran a frustrated hand through my dark brown hair and tried to find a place to hide myself from the crowds of obnoxious intoxicated teenagers. My cold fingers pressed against the screen of my iPhone and I dialed Stiles as I quested to find a place to be alone. After five or so rings, it went to voicemail.
"Stiles, what the hell was that? You and Scott just took off! I swear to God if you don't call me back in the next five minutes and Alison and I have to walk home, we're gonna have a problem." I hung up the phone and slid it back in my pocket. To my benefit, I found an outdoor generator covered by a plastic box enclosure. I leaned my body against it and placed my palms up to my face, taking a deep breath to try to calm myself. My hands went from my face and ran through my hair and travled back down to my side. I sighed, you've got to be kidding me, how could Stiles leave me here?
"Aren't you supposed to be playing beer pong or dancing with your friends or something?" A voice said.
"I'm not much of a party person." I looked to my right to see who the voice belonged to…it was Derek Hale. A breath stuck in my throat. Did he follow me here? I pushed myself off the generator and took a step near him and he
"Well then, this wouldn't be quite the right place for 'not much of a party person'." He stifled a laugh, looking down to the grass.
"I'm Derek." He flashed a smothering smile, showing his perfectly white teeth. It made me want to melt right then and there.
"I know," I smiled, "I saw you in the woods a few days ago. I'm Katherine."
"Well Katherine, would you like me to get you a drink?"
"I don't drink." I stubbornly answered. I hated the taste of beer; it was the worst. I never got myself drunk and never will. Of course that was the first thing Derek Hale asked me. He was probably trying to get me drunk to go sleep with him. Derek's thick brows rose.
"Wow, will powers." He crossed his arms over his chest.
"You can call it that." I shrugged.
"Sorry for being intrusive, but did I overhear you say you don't have a ride home?"
"Stiles left after Scott just had a panic attack or something." I sighed.
"The goofy looking kid in the woods with me the other day."
"Right and I know who Scott is, so that leaves Stiles. Do you know what happened to him, Scott I mean?"
"He ran out on his date. I don't know. They just left me here stranded."
"I can take you home if you want, you don't look like your having to much fun anyways."
"Is it that obvious?" I sighed. Derek smirked and nodded his head.
"Let me take you home." He dug into his leather jacket's pocket and retrieved the keys to his car.
"Thanks. Allison needed a ride too, but—" I could see her inside the house standing next to the window, talking to a group of people. They all burst out laughing, "she'll live."