The Hellhound's Mate

Chapter 57

At the rate they were going, Beacon Hills was going to turn into a ghost town with the number of people that were taken that night. 

Chris had also been injured and Melissa was watching over him because he had taken a hard blow to the head, had several broken ribs and numerous whip marks. Scott and Malia had also lost hope that Stiles was a real person because Lydia had gone through Claudia's medical records and Claudia only had one child being Angie. She never had a son. And while it was strange that she had frontotemporal dementia 10 years ago and was perfectly fine now, that wasn't strange enough to matter at the moment. They didn't find a relic and they had no proof that Stiles existed.

Angie wasn't giving up though.

If there was even the slightest possibility that she had a brother, and there was, she was going to remember him. She was going to find him.

Which is why she woke up in the middle of the woods as someone roared and something in her told her to follow it.

She ran towards the as she caught a scent and her eyes widened as she realised who it was.

Someone she couldn't believe she'd forgotten. Her best friend's uncle and the man that they used to bake Christmas cookies with. And also a sociopathic serial killer, but hey, no one's perfect.

"Peter?! Peter?! Can you hear me?!" she asked as she knelt by his burned body, and he opened his eyes which were clearly screaming in agony. "Hold on," she urged as she gripped his hand, but before she could take any of his pain, a voice stopped her.

"Angie? What are you doing here?" Scott asked as he and Malia came rushing over.

"I woke up here and then I heard him roar. What are you doing here?" she returned.

"We heard the roar, and it was familiar so we followed it. And then we caught your scent," Malia explained.

"Who is that?" Scott asked.

"Peter," Malia said in shock as she looked down at his eyes.

"Who's Peter?" Scott asked as the werecoyote knelt down at the burned man's side.

"Peter Hale. My dad," she supplied, and Scott flinched as his memories came back.

"Sorry," Angie muttered as she began to ease his pain after he squeezed her hand.

"Peter!" Scott gasped. "He bit me. How could I forget him?"

"How could I forget him?" Malia repeated as both Scott and Malia began to take some of his pain as he drifted off to sleep, squeezing an object into Angie's hands. "Is he going to be ok?"

Angie panted as she stopped taking his pain, her veins returning to normal. "His body has been through this before. It knows how to heal from it but it's still going to take a while. It took him six years the first time," Angie answered. "We have to get him out of here. These can still get infected and -"

"And what?!" Malia pressed worriedly.

"Angie, what is it?" Scott asked with a hand on her back and Angie began to pull her hand away from Peter's to reveal the set of keys in it.

"I know these keys. I put that charm on them," Angie said as she pointed out the angel wings and devil horns, the mischief to the angel.

"These must be the keys to the Jeep," Scott insisted.

"What Jeep?" Angie wondered.

"Your mother's," Malia informed, her hand still linked with her father's.

"It's an old blue Jeep. Lydia went to see your parents this afternoon about it, but they said they haven't seen it for 18 years. That it was stolen. We tried to get a hold of you, but you didn't answer," Scott finished and Angie's gaze was far off.