The Silver Soldier

XVIII

Juliette is part of Scott's pack?

That's news to me.

And now everything has just been made a whole lot harder.

With them working together, if she ever figures out who I really am, they will too. If they find out that I'm alive, they will capture me. If that happens, I will deny everything, even if it kills me. I will tell them I don't know who Stiles Stilinski is, they can't prove I'm their long lost friend. Anything they do will lead them to the same place.

My irises are different, my fingerprints have been replaced with someone else's. If they use my father to search my face up in the police database, they will find that my name is Cole Grant, I'm 18, and I was born and raised in Russia.

I am no longer Stiles Stilinski.

Stiles stilinski is dead.

They also don't know that if they run my prints, or scan my face, or even search the name Cole Grant into google, Hydra will know. They will send someone.

By now, Juliette must have told Scott and his pack that I'm here, she must have said that a boy that looks exactly like their dead friend is in California.

But I have nothing to worry about.

It's almost dawn, I spent the night driving to the University, kidnapping a werewolf, and then having a very calm, civil talk with him while he was tied up in my basement. I found out that Juliette is in Scott's pack, and after he told me that, I learned that they had a run-in with the Avengers a few months ago.

When I cut off a few more fingers, Alec told me that Scott still has contact with them.

That might be a problem for me.

The Avengers know about Hydra. If Scott reaches out to them, they might be able to figure out how to prove I actually am Stiles. Then I'm fucked.

I walk into the kitchen, grabbing a glass from the cupboard. I fill it three fingers from the bottom with whiskey, bringing both the glass and bottle with me to the table. I stare at the amber liquid, debating on if I should sip at it, or just down the whole thing like a shot. I can't get drunk, at least not easily. My body heals too fast.

I raise it to my lips, taking a small sip.

"At 6 in the morning?" I hear Erik exclaim as he walks down the stairs.

I glance at him, scoffing as I take another sip. "There's a werewolf tied up in our basement, I just thought I'd let you know." I set the glass down. "If he tries to escape, shoot him."

"Yes sir. Might I ask why?"

"Why he's tied up?" I look at Erik, he nods. "I needed information, he was reluctant."

"I see." Erik pulls out a chair, sitting across from me. "And the booze?"

"I like the taste." I take another sip, staring at the wall past him. "I'm going off to the highschool in a bit, I won't be back until late tonight." I say. "The girl invited me over for dinner with her family."

"I assume you will be going home tomorrow, then?"

"I plan to." I lift the glass, downing the rest of the whiskey. "I'll see you tonight." I push my chair back, grabbing my bag from the counter. "Adios."

I decide I'm going to drive the Tuatara today. As soon as the engine starts, tingles run down my spine. This is one good sounding car. I drive to Juliette's house, getting there a minute before 7:30. she opens the front door, mouth agape.

"What the Hell is that?" She exclaims in awe.

"SSC Tuatara." I open the door, getting out. "Like it?"

"Where on Earth did you get that?"

"It's my Dad's, I asked if I could drive it to school."

"Holy shit Cole. My brother would love this." Her eyes study the sleek frame of the car. I look up at their house, seeing the face I recognize as her brother peering out the window. He meets my gaze, ducking out of sight.

"Ready?"

"Hell yeah." She gets into the passenger side. "How fast does it go?" She asks once I get in.

"331.5."

"Oh my God." She waits patiently for me to start it up, unrolling her window to hear the engine. "This is the coolest thing ever."

Every single head turns when we pull into the school parking lot. Most of the students don't know that they are looking at a 2 million dollar car, give or take. All they know is that it's loud and looks expensive. And that's all they care about.

Juliette and I walk up to her friends. "Is that yours?" Emma asks, staring at the car.

"My Dad's. He said I could drive it."

"That's a 2 million dollar car." Austin is also staring, he seems to know his cars. "Only 100 have been produced." He looks at me, obviously sceptical.

"My Dad's best friend is high up in SSC, he got it cheap." I lie.

"Think he can get me one?" Emma's eyes are still on the car. "I'll do your homework for a year."

I won't be here for a year.

But I laugh anyway. "I'll see what I can do."

The school day goes by fast, before I know it, the bell for dismissal is going off. I pack my things, meeting Juliette by her locker. "You're ready fast, Romeo." She stuffs her binder into her bag.

"It's Friday. I want to get out of here." I give her a smile.

"Is that the only reason?"

"The sooner we get out of here, the more time I get to spend with you."

"You have a way with words, Mr. Grant, I'll give you that." She smirks, shaking her head. She pulls her bag out of her locker, shutting it. "Lead the way."

Were half way to my car when I turn to her. "Is there anything I should know? About your parents, I mean."

She grins. "Are you nervous?"

"Maybe a little..."

"Don't worry, you'll be fine. My Dad works for the government, mostly off field. And my mom teaches middle schoolers. They aren't strict, like unless you do drugs or have tattoos you should be fine."

I stop walking. "Tattoos?"

"Yeah, they hate tattoos, they won't-" she pauses, coming to a realization. "You have a tattoo, don't you."

I nod sheepishly.

"Okay, that's okay." She takes a few steps towards me, linking her arm in mine. "Good thing for you, I find tattoos hot."

I can't help but smirk, and not a fake I'm-only-here-because-I-have-to-be type smirk, a real smirk. This whole time, we'll most of it anyways, I have been faking. Any time I've smiled, laughed, looked confused, it's all been an act. I make my pulse rise when Juliette touches me, I make myself blush when she gives me a compliment. But none of its real.

Except for this smile.

We start to walk again, finally reaching my car. There are kids taking pictures of it, parents admiring it while they wait for their children to come out of the school.

No one did that for my old Jeep, that thing was held together by duct tape and zip ties. It was a complete piece of junk, but it was my piece of junk, and I loved it.

"Your place?" I ask, opening the passenger door for Juliette.

"You got it." She sits down.

I walk around to my side of the car, getting into the drivers seat. In a few hours, I will be on my way back to Russia, to Malgasco. Home.