I N S T I N C T | Jackson Whittemore

28: drunk on love

Drunk on Love
Chapter Twenty Eight

An hour after dropping Allison and Lydia off at their houses, Annie went home... and after another hour of lying to her parents of why she was out so late... and after another hour of fake-sleeping, Annie threw her comforter back, and snuck down her porch's roof to the ground, fully-armed with her weapons, in total.

Stiles and Scott stood behind Stiles's jeep at the nightclub they tracked Jackson—or the Kanima—to. They watched the entrance, looking for any of the incomers that looked a little off, but had yet to find anything.

"What do we do now?" Annie asked from behind the two boys.

Scott and Stiles both spun around, wide eyed, cussing under their breath. Stiles held his heart with a pained expression on his face as he mumbled, "Annie, ohmygod, youj ust gaveme aheart a ttack," his words were either smashed together, or spaced between pants of breath.

"Sorry," Annie held up her hands in surrender. "I'm sorry... Did you see where Jackson went?"

Scott shook his head, "I lost him."

Annie nodded, "Me too." The boys hadn't realized she was tracking the Kanima, as well. The trail had stopped here. And with Annie being Annie, she couldn't just let the boy she loved run off and kill someone without trying to stop it. "Can you catch his scent?" she raised her eyebrows at Scott.

Scott shook his head, smelling the air, "I don't think he has one."

Stiles nodded sarcastically, "Alright, well, that's perfect. Any idea where's he's going?"

"To kill someone," Scott said bluntly, and both Stiles and Annie's eyes went wide.

Stiles scoffed, "Ah. That explains the claws, and the fangs, and all that. Good. Makes perfect sense now," Annie gave him a "seriously?" look. "What? Annie, come on. I'm 147 pounds of pale skin and fragile bone, okay? Sarcasm is my only defense!"

"Just help us find it," Scott shook his head.

Annie grabbed his arm, pulling his attention back towards her, "Not it... Jackson. This is our friend," she paused when Stiles returned her look from earlier. "... My friend. My boyfriend, okay!"

Oh, shit.

"BOYFRIEND?" Stiles screeched out, but Annie ignored him.

Scott shook his head, "We will get back to that later," he referred to Annie's outburst. "For now, let's think about how Jackson passed the test."

Stiles gave Annie an annoyed face, but followed Scott's direction. He would chew her ass out for this later. "Maybe it's like an either-or thing. I mean, Derek said that a snake can't be poisoned by its own venom, right?" Stiles shrugged, "So, when's the kanima not the kanima?

Annie's eyes widened, "... When it's Jackson."

Scott and Annie began to discuss theories, while Stiles was distracted by a much bigger problem. He looked up, seeing the sparkling, scaled tail wiggling its way into the top of the night club through a window.

He cleared his throat, "Uh... guys," Annie and Scott followed his gaze, "you see that?"

"He's inside," Annie breathed out, her voice cracking, terrified of the love of her life killing another person.

Stiles shook his head, "What's he going to do in there?"

Scott inhaled sharply, "I know who he's after..."

"What, how? How? Did you smell something?" Stiles frantically wigged out, looking all around him.

Scott nodded, staring at something off in the distance. Annie followed his relentless stare, and caught the glimpse of Danny right before he headed into the club. She knew exactly what Scott was smelling, his signature fragrance, "Armani."