Beacon Hills She-Wolf

Chapter 17: Holmes, Loyalty.

On sunday morning, two days after she'd seen Derek, when she was leaving to meet with a friend, Jackson called her:
-Hey Carol!
-Good Morning, Jackson.
-Let me give you a ride today, I want to talk to you.
He had a weird look on his face. She knew that he was trying to corner her, but she couldn't dodge him forever, and she couldn't play the "How am I supposed to come home home" card because he knew that she was staying at Beatrice's and that they were going to school toghther the next day. So she just nodded.
-Yeah, sure.
They got inside, and as he started the car, he began talking:
-You know, I was talking to Allison yesterday. About how weird everything was about that night. Some things just don't make sense.
-Like what?
His next words had been carefully planned.
-You know, unlike you, I was never too skeptical about the supernatural. I mean, it's not something I've actually stopped to think about, but I also never consiredered it just "lame bullshit" as you did.
-What does that have to do with that night?
-I know what I saw, Carolinne. It was a man. Standing in his two legs like a normal human being. Then suddenly, it was on all fours. Like an animal. It moved like an animal.
-I can walk like that.
-I don't think it was a Gymnaster at the school. And I know that neither do you.
She could feel the conversation getting dangerous. She knew that Jackson would figure it out one day, but she was hoping it wouldn't be so soon. He kept talking:
-So, Friday night, I was with Allison, right here in this car. And something jumped on the car hood. An animal, I think.
-Did any of you get hurt?
-No, we're fine. But then, when I got home... I found this.
He showed her a claw.
-It probably got stuck there.
-Yeah, probably. Now, do you remember our last game?
-Of course, it was last month. But I still don't understand, where are trying to get?
-I found Scott's gloves that night. With holes in it's fingers. And guess what? Those holes are just the same size of this claw.
-Jackson, all of this... You think Scott has... claws?! Are you listening to yourself?!
-I think that whatever the hell that was, it was not human. And you're friend is somehow involved with everything.
He didn't say anything else all the way to her friend Beatrice's house.
Once she was alone with Bea, she made sure nobody was listening:
-Hey B, I've been doing some research about something for a friend, and that friend of yours from Trinity...
-What about her?
-Her name is Holmes, isn't it?
-Yeah, it's Alice Elizabeth Holmes. Why?
-I know it's not a rare name, but it's woth the shot. Do you happen to know if she's related to Evelyn Holmes?
Beatrice stopped to think for a second before answering:
-Yes. Yes, she is. She's mentioned that once, said that her goal was to keep the family legacy and that her inspiration was this woman.
That's all that Carol wanted to hear.
-Really? Oh my God, thank you SO MUCH, B!!!
-Uhm... You're welcome?
-Can you give me her phone number? And please, tell her that I need her help.
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A few days earlier
Carolinne was tired. Tired of depending on myths, Stiles' culrural references, and Derek's will to share his knowledge. So she decided that she was going to work on her own.
She couldn't trust anything she found online, so she had to go the classic way: The town library. She took every book she could find about lycanthropy. She read about La Bête du Gévaudan and Marie-Jeanne Valet, and she even read something about the legendary Angert family in a book about French mythology. But the symbols meant different things in cultures arround the world, and there was nothing about a cure. What she did find, however, was a story about a british huntress. Acording to the story, Evelyn Holmes had been born in one of the wealthiest famillies in England, 18th century. Her father was a well known banker, but few people were aware that he was also a very skilled hunter. Going against the sexist rules that required her to become a house wife, Evelyn grew to follow her dad's steps, and by the time she was 21, she had already become one of the most feared and dangerous hunters of all times. Evelyn died at the age of 67, leaving 3 children and 5 grandchildren who promissed to keep with the family legacy and be the respected hunters they were meant to be. Appearently, Evelyn's descendants kept the title to this very day, and some of them could be found outside of England in different countries, including America.