BLUNT. | Liam Dunbar

Definitely Me - Chapter Forty-Eight

A N N I E

"Dad, Scott and Kira have been kidnapped and taken to Mexico, okay?" Stiles explained to the Sheriff for the bajillionith time. "I think that's a pretty good reason for a trip to Mexico."

Sheriff inhaled, "Okay... even if Deaton is right about this... The best thing to do is go through the proper channels."

Stiles rolled his eyes, "Dad..."

"That means calling the right law enforcement agencies, border patrol, putting out an all-points."

"Dad, I can't just wait around for the wheels of bureaucracy to start spinning in five different government offices, okay?" Stiles said seriously, but I snickered a bit behind my hand. "Someone needs to go down there right now, find them, and rescue them. I'm going."

Sheriff narrowed his eyes on Stiles, "I can keep you from going."

Stiles brought his hands in the air, smirking, "I'd find a way."

Sheriff raised his eyebrows, "I can throw you in a cell."

Stiles scoffed, "I'd still find a way."

Sheriff brought his hand to the crook of his nose, rubbing it in frustration. "Stiles, Annie... please. Give me a little more time to verify something slightly more concrete than a psychic vision by some guy with a third eye!" Stiles looked over at me, and I shook my head. Scott could be dying... we need to get down there... pronto. "Look, I will call every law enforcement agency all the way down to South America if I have to. If nothing turns up, then I'll book three flights to Mexico. We'll all go, okay?"

Stiles winked at me, "Okay, okay, great. Do I get a gun?"

Sheriff's face relaxed to the point of numbness, as if he was about to lose his shit. "No."

* * *

I cocked a handgun, pointing it at the target across my apartment's basement, and then unloading it, handing the chamber and the gun to Derek. Derek sighed, taking it from me.

"I still don't like relying on these things," he said, looking at the gun in his hand.

"I get it," I nodded. "You miss your power. I would, too."

"It's not about power," Derek shook his head. "It's about being able to help. I don't like feeling helpless."

I huffed, shaking my head. "You're not helpless, trust me, I know the feeling. When I found out Allison died, when I was at the bottom of the creek drowning, when Garrett took Liam and tried to kill him... I felt completely, and utterly helpless. I hate that feeling, but guess what... look at me now. I'm a badass werecheetah/huntress about to go kick some badass La Loba ass!" I laughed, and Derek laughed along with me. "Plus, I was human once, and I was pretty great with a weapon."

Derek smiled sadly, "You're a much better shot than me."

I sighed, dropping my hands to my sides, "Do you really think you're not coming back?"

It's no secret that Derek's name was taken off the dead pool, and it's also no secret that it unlocked a secret from the dead pool... and the only names that were unlocking the codes were the deceased or the soon to be deceased.

"Not alive," Derek looked up at me, fear and sadness lining his face.

I shook my head, "You know Scott wouldn't be okay with that..."

Derek sighed, shrugging, "I am... If it saves Scott and Kira. But, to be honest, I don't even know if this is enough firepower to take down one Berserker."

"Not even close," his annoying voice broke through the silence of the basement, and Derek and I both turned, with rolling eyes, to Peter as he strolled into the visible light. "Killing a Berserker is nearly impossible."

I scoffed, "Actually... killing a Berserker is like stepping on a bug. It's simple. You can practically kill a Berserker with a switchblade if that's the only weapon you had. But it's not the firepower that's the hard part of killing a Berserker... it's breaking the animal spirit from the human."

"Well," Derek raised his eyebrows, "the one person we know with that kind of experience of you," Derek looked at me.

"You're going to need more help," Peter said rudely. "Like Malia, maybe Liam..."

I smiled, "No offense to anyone on that list, but I think we all know who needs to be on the trip down there." I picked up a handgun, cocking it, "Maybe Malia, maybe Liam, maybe Stiles..." I fired a single bullet, hitting and busting open a bottle on the other side of the basement. I turned back to Peter, smiling, "Definitely me."