Monsters | Stiles Stilinski

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟖𝟐

KATE ARGENT.

Kate fricken Argent.

I was in shock. I couldn't comprehend that after all this time she'd been alive. For while I hated her with every fibre of my being, it always made me feel fractionally better knowing that she was dead. It was really the only comfort I could find in my mothers death — knowing the one responsible for it was also dead. I'd struggled to really accept my mom's death following the revelation that the 'house fire' wasn't just a house fire... that we weren't just in the wrong place at the wrong time. It had been arson, attempted murder... murder—whatever you wanted to call it, it was deliberate. The electrical wires weren't faulty.

Peter had gotten his revenge on everyone who played their part in the fire. What we had thought to be random killings at first turned out to be him giving them their just deserts... everyone except Adrian Harris but eventually his caught up with him in the form of ritual sacrifice. Peter Hale did have a heart though it had been burnt and scarred from the fire. He managed to get justice for what had happened to his family—our family—but he'd lost himself within the rage along the way.

The night he killed Kate I felt nothing but satisfaction. For a few weeks I hated myself for being glad that someone had died but when I truly processed what damage she'd caused it was easier.

My mom hadn't died in a freak accident, she'd been murdered and the only way I'd been able to make peace with that was knowing that the woman behind it had suffered an intolerable fate.

Knowing she was alive after all this time filled me with rage. My fingers were shaking and not even my hand pressing against my head could stop the tremors because they just started in my legs. I knew Malia was aware of it, too, considering her body was pressed tightly against my own — trapped in a two seater back seat with myself, Kira and Lydia.

I wanted to take things into my own hands...then I'd know she was really dead like she deserved, rotting in hell.

Her name, her face...everything she ever did—it was running on a loop in my head. It intensified my rage yet clouded me with sadness at the same time.

Though now she had Derek and what she wanted with him perplexed me to no end. How had she managed to drag him across state lines to Mexico and keep him captive for over a month? What did she want with him in the first place. 

I had no idea what we were about to face but if it was her I was afraid how I'd react.

Malia looked at me, her eyes burning into the side of my skull. She didn't even try to hide it. I had a feeling she didn't know the meaning of discrete or how to act it. All she knew was blunt and straightforward—something was I going to have to get used to. I knew she could see my hands shaking and she looked down to my leg as they bounced up and down too. We'd been crammed in this car for god knows how long and the tension had reached an extreme level. There had been nothing said since we'd all gotten in and since then I'd had the opportunity to slip into a pit of rage.

"Okay." She said eventually. I could tell she had something on the tip of her tongue and I was glad she'd finally spoke up, "I'll ask. Who's Kate Argent?"

I take that back, I wasn't glad she'd spoken up.

Kira's sheepish voice sounded next and in my mood I almost wanted to lean over Malia and Lydia and punch her, "Uh, I'd like to know, too."

An abundance of eyes fell on me and I was well aware of them. Stiles was looking through his rear-view mirror and Scott was turning back to me. Lydia glanced over occasionally but she kept her gaze mainly focused on the desert terrain we drove through.