St. Clair || Stilinski [2]

Four || Just A Guy

|| Senior Scribe

      "Hey, keep on moving, buddy."

      Two deputies dragged a lanky 20-something through the station despite his desperate struggle to get free.

     "Come on. Hey!" Deputy Clark reprimanded as she pulled on the man's arm.

     "You guys are making a mistake," Donovan said as he stumbled through the police station, deputies Clark and Cordova not showing signs of letting up.

     "Come on!" Clark loudly demanded as she tried to push Donovan; a constant problem in the system.

     Donovan pushed back, only to wince in pain. "What the hell? Are you trying to break my arm or something?"

     Deputy Clark was fierce in everything she did. "Keep struggling and I'll be aiming for a compound fracture."

     "Donovan," Sheriff Stilinski called, emerging from his office, "you forgot what the judge said, didn't you? Next time is jail time."

      Brown eyes widened, unable to find the words right away. "Stilinski...what? Hold up. Come on."

     Stilinski softly shook his head before looking to Clark. "What's he in for?"

     "B and E," replied Clark as she kept a firm hand on Donovan. "And he was carrying a loaded .38."

     Donovan soon found the Sheriff looking at him with a sullen expression. "Okay," he quickly said, "it wasn't mine. Sheriff, come on. It wasn't mine."

     Stilinski glanced away briefly, "Book him."

     The boy soaked in rain grew a menacing smile, "Oh, you're dead." And even as Cordova and Clark began to move him towards the back, he didn't give up. "Hey, look at me!" he yelled. "You're dead! You're dead! You're gonna do this to me? You son of a bitch, you're dead! Look at me!"

     Instead, Sheriff Stilinski let Donovan be carted back to the drunk tank. He looked around the dim office, the power mostly knocked out by the storm rolling through. "Can anyone tell me why the hell Parrish isn't back yet?"

     But no one would know until it was almost too late.

||

     Jacy checked her watch as she sat in the front seat of Petunia, still waiting on the boys.

     It had stopped working.

     Allison was leaned over to one side of the Honda, looking out on the pouring rain as lightning continued to strike overhead. "This kind of reminds me of a legend my dad used to tell me."

     Although Jacy responded with her attention, Lydia looked distantly through the windshield without any response.

     "Which one?" Jacy asked, giving up on tapping the face of her watch.

     "The Wild Hunt." The youngest Argent couldn't take her eyes off the sky, "It starts with a night just like this. In storm clouds like these, phantom hunters would appear. They rode black horses with blood red eyes. And wolves and hounds at their side, baying and snarling."

     Furrowing her eyebrows, Jacy glanced back to Allison. "What were they hunting?"

     The moon gleamed a reflection on Allison's deep brown eyes, "Souls."

     A silence crossed over the interior of the car, a fear lingering in the distance.

     "Is anyone's phone working?" Lydia suddenly asked, snapping out of her haze.