Pure × Isaac Lahey

20.

xx

        Marin Morrell's office at Beacon Hills High School dripped with a tenseness it couldn't shake. Scott sat across from her, wanting to be right about his assumptions.

        "Why are you bothering with me, Scott, when you know the clock is ticking? When you know someone else is about to be taken?"

        Scott held a flat expression, "By you."

        "Come on, Scott," Morrell said, not even close to being intimidated by the teen. "Shouldn't you leave the interrogations to someone like Stilinski?"

        Scott ignored her, leaning forward. "Are you the one killing people?"

        Morrell kept a dead stare on him. "Are you listening to my heartbeat?" She leaned in, knowing he was. "No," she drew out her words, nearly whispering, "i'm not the one killing people." She sat back, Scott looking upset. "The truth is, i'm all that stands between Deucalion and the lives of your friends. I've been the one pulling the leash taut when they're salivating for a bite."

        "What do you mean?"

        "He wants a true alpha in his pack," Morrell said. "He thinks it's you. And a little distraction like a few human sacrifices isn't going to dissuade him from the prize."

        "I'm not an alpha," Scott quickly told her.

        "But you're well on your way, aren't you?"

        Scott slammed his hands on her desk as he stood. "Then what is he waiting for? What does he want me to do?"

        Morrell rose, putting her hands on the table like Scott had. "He wants to make a killer out of you. That's what he does."

        "But if I kill someone, I can't be a true alpha, right?"

        "Exactly," Morrell said. "You want to psychologist's perspective? He's an obsessive, who both desires you and is threatened by you. If the obsessive can't have the object of his desire, he'll choose to destroy it instead. You'll either willingly become part of his pack, or he'll make a killer out of you, destroying your potential to be a true alpha."

        "Neither of those things is ever going to happen."

        "Don't be so sure." Morrell sat back in her chair. "You're playing his game. And while you're trying to figure out what to do next, he's thinking 10 moves ahead."

        And Deucalion already had checkmate in sight.

xx

        Within the following hour, Allison set her phone down on her father's oak desk, Elora and Isaac in front of her.

        Mr. Westover, a history teacher, was missing and Chris Argent was no where to be seen.

        "I have to stop him," Allison said with finality in her voice.

        "Al, that may not be the best idea," Elora told her.

        "If your dad's actually doing all this stuff..."

        "If?" Allison cut off Isaac. "Look at this. He knows everything. He's... he's planned everything." And all of the sudden, she pulled something from her pocket and unfurled it.

        "What are you doing?" Isaac asked, watching her with slight concern.

        "If Mr. Westover was taken from the school, there's gotta be another point on the telluric current."