Lost Cause » Void Stiles

11; empty threats

"Tell me again why we're walking into the lion's den?"

Lita did not understand the nogitsune. She liked him, as much as a lunatic with little to no human emotion could like someone. She wanted him to screw her. But she did not in the least understand him, or his game. The chess board threat was understandable; a strategic move to mess with their heads & leave them trying to figure out whether or not it was a message from Stiles, or simply another trick. What was not understandable, however, was the nogitsune walking right into Derek Hale's loft.

Derek Hale, a werewolf & close friend & ally of Scott McCall.

Lita had faith in the nogitsune's abilities to burn Beacon Hills to the ground, if she didn't, she would have stayed at Eichen & waited for Malia to tear apart an orderly (the day was sure to come). But the way Stiles had explained werewolves & Scott's pack to her in the basement of the asylum, she couldn't help but feel they were outnumbered. Yes, she was an overconfident psychopath who liked to believe she could kill just about anyone she wanted to— but she wasn't stupid. Lita knew when she was getting into a fight she couldn't win.

"Because I'm a thousand years old & can't be killed." The demon responded bluntly, his voice monotone. "Do you have short-term memory loss?"

"Fuck off." She muttered, leaning against the side of the building. "I'm down with murder, I just killed my parents for shit's sake, but are we seriously about to go in there with no weapons & wait for a pack of werewolves to show up? Maybe you misunderstood me when I explained my condition. I'm psychotic, not suicidal."

"We aren't. I am." He clarified, bored with her already. Lita was dead weight, but she had a part to play; even if the game was still his without her, she was added entertainment. After all, if she played exactly as he anticipated, it was going to be one hell of a match. "You're going back to Eichen."

"On second thought, maybe I am suicidal because I'd rather kill myself. What the hell kind of game are you playing, Dracula?" Lita hissed, her eyes narrowing into slits as she stood up straighter. She wasn't going back to Eichen— she was going to stay right where she was, in the middle of a werewolves vs. demon fight, and ensure she died in the crossfire if there was so much as a fragment of a chance she'd be dragged back Eichen when all was over.

"I don't recall telling you that was my name."

"You never told me your name." She pointed out, all annoyance that had previously been in her tone disappearing completely. To an outsider it would seem immensely bipolar, but to her there was plenty of reason to drop all signs of rage in an instant. Anger was useless against someone who played on it. He would only toy with her if he knew he could. Besides, she knew just what he was doing. Changing subjects was her specialty— she drove each & every therapist that had desperately tried to help her to the brink of insanity. "Don't change the subject."

"Don't tell a demon what to do. When you're the one wielding the power, do as you please, but until then, I'm the one who makes the rules." The nogitsune snapped, now glaring daggers at her. "You don't question me if you want to live."

Lita jokingly held up her hands in surrender, stifling a laugh at the demon. "Yes, master. F-Y-I, I love it when you get all dominant. It's such a turn on."

"I could still kill you." He reminded her.

"You like me too much."

"I don't like you that much if I'm sending you back to the psych ward." The demon smirked, hoping he'd hit a nerve & upset her again, but the psychopath was far from angered. In lunacy she trusted, and as utterly stupid as going back to the place where she'd surely be locked in the closed unit if caught was, Lita was slowly beginning to realize why the nogitsune wanted her to go there.