Chapter Text
Elevators should have music, Stiles decided. It was just way too awkward standing next to someone you don’t know without something to break the silence. Especially when that someone looked like a chocolate-flavored carbon copy of Derek Hale, with the eyebrows and everything. More than once Stiles caught the guy glancing over at him with curiosity in his eyes, but there was still a slight scowl on his face and damn, he felt sorry for whoever pissed in his Cheerios.
His fingers tapped incessantly against his thigh, more out of habit than anything else. Well, okay, it was also because he was nervous and needed something to do with his hands to keep his mouth shut.
Today was the first day at his new job and he was going to be the youngest person on the team. At 23, no pressure, right? Agent Hotchner, or Hotch, as he had been told to call him, told him he had nothing to worry about, but Stiles remained doubtful. He knew how close-knit the team was. He also knew they were still recovering from the death of one of their team members, Agent Emily Prentiss. He would probably be met with suspicion and it would take a while to gain their trust. Honestly, Stiles was expecting this. He would do the exact same thing if some random stranger suddenly joined his pack.
But Stiles was going to do his best to get them to trust him. He had been working towards this for the past couple years, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to keep fighting. He didn’t move halfway across the country away from his pack for nothing, after all.
The elevator dinged as they reached his floor and Stiles quickly stepped out and Chocolate Thunder, as Stiles had dubbed him in his mind, followed him.
Unfortunately for Stiles, there were three different directions for him to go, and Hotch hadn’t exactly told him where his office was. Chocolate Thunder must have noticed his dilemma, because he spoke up and asked, “Do need directions to somewhere?”
Stiles glanced over at him and smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, I uh, I was told to go to Hotch’s office but I’m not quite sure where it is.”
“Hotch?” the agent furrowed his eyebrows slightly in confusion. “Yeah, his office is right through these doors, straight up the steps.”
“Thanks,” Stiles said gratefully. “I’m Agent Stiles Stilinski-Hale, by the way, I’m new.” He hiked up the duffle bag he was carrying on his shoulder and offered out his hand, which the agent took and shook firmly.
“Nice to meet you.” Chocolate Thunder gave him a big smile. “I’m SSA Derek Morgan. And don’t worry about Hotch,” he said, being such a gentleman and opening the door for Stiles. If Stiles wasn’t already mated to Derek he would swoon. He still might swoon. “he’s more bark than he is bite.”
Stiles smirked. “I know someone else who’s a lot like that.”
He and Morgan parted ways in the bullpen as he made his way up the steps and knocked on Hotch’s office door. He could feel the eyes of multiple people on his back but he forced himself to ignore it as Hotch’s door and the man greeted him with a small smile, stepping out to join him on the catwalk. “Stilinski. Thanks for coming in. I know it’s earlier than what you’re scheduled, so I appreciate.”
Stiles grinned. “No problem, boss.” It wasn’t like he had anything to do anyway. He’d already made himself known to the Alpha of the region and he just had a couple of boxes left to unpack. “Brought my go-bag like you asked. The conference room is this way?” he asked, pointing to his right a couple doors down.
Hotch nodded in confirmation. “You’re right on time, the rest of the team should already be there.” Without another word he led the way towards the conference room, leaving Stiles with no other option than to follow him.
The minute he set foot into the conference room behind Hotch, all eyes turned on him. There were five people sitting around the circular table and Stiles immediately recognized Morgan which made him grin. Looks like he would be working with a Derek everywhere he went, now. Morgan looked surprised to see him, to the least, and he kept glancing between Hotch and Stiles in confusion. “Stilinski? Hotch, what’s he doing here?”
“Good, you already know each other. That makes this easier.” Hotch said, walking around to the front of the table. He gestured towards Stiles. “Everyone, this is our new agent, SSA Stilinski-Hale. Stilinski, these are Agents Morgan, Rossi, and Jareau, Dr. Reid, and our technical Analyst Penelope Garcia.” He pointed to each person in turn as he introduced them, and while Stiles paid attention, his focus immediately zeroed in on Dr. Reid. He looked exactly like he had on TV, with the same short, scraggly hair cut and professor-like clothes, complete with the vest and purple scarf.
“Oh my God. Lydia is going to be so jealous.” he breathed out in awe. He immediately stepped forward towards Reid and waved nervously, knowing from his research that Reid wasn’t fond on handshakes. “It is awesome to finally meet you. I’m a huge fan.”
“Of Reid?” Morgan burst, looking bewildered.
Reid looked entirely flustered, but pleased at the same time. “It’s, uh, nice to meet you too?” he said, his greeting trailing off into a question, ignoring Morgan altogether.
“Oh man, this is great. I’ve got to get a picture with you later. Lydia will never believe me without solid proof. You realize your like, famous, right? I mean, you hold three PhD’s and two bachelors and you got into the FBI at the youngest age ever, which is totally amazing by the way,” Stiles rambled. “I mean, they tell stories about you in the academy to make us feel bad for not acting all of our test in an hour! Lydia just got her first PhD at Yale and all of her teachers talk about you, you’re famous over there! And anot-” he cut himself off, glancing around to see everyone staring at him in various degrees of wonder and disbelief. He grinned sheepishly and took a small step backwards, his hand going up to rub the back of his neck. “Eh… sorry about that. I tend to get carried away sometimes.”
“There’s two of them…” Morgan stage-whispered, his eyes wide in wonder.
Stiles glanced down at Reid. The doctor was staring at him with amusement in his eyes and he gave Stiles a shy smile. “People get like that when they first meet Rossi.”
“Hm? David Rossi?” Stiles glanced over the table where Rossi was sitting next to Morgan and Garcia. “I already met him, so the excitement has kind of already worn off.” he gave Rossi an apologetic smile.
“We’ve met?” Rossi asked, suddenly looking more interest. His brows furrowed in thought and stiles could practically see the gears turning in his head. “Stilinski…” he mused. “Beacon Hills!” he snapped his fingers and grinned. “Thats right! We had a case there, a family burned to death in their house. I remember now.” he snorted and squinted his eyes at Stiles. “You were a little squirt back then, always running around that department and following us around like a lost puppy.”
Stiles snickered to himself at the analogy but nodded nonetheless. “Yup, that was me.”
Hotch cleared his throat, smirking slightly. “You two can finish catching up on the plane. We’ve got a case.”
Stiles took the empty seat next to Reid and tried to lower his freak out down a notch. It was just, God. He actually was on the team that The Dr. Spencer Reid was on. Lydia was going to be so jealous, he decided.
Garcia seemed to be a bright, sunny person judging from her clothes and how she carried herself even amidst the horror she was passing out to them in files. “Augusta, Montana.” she began, bringing up pictures of the victims. All were particularly gruesome deaths.
“They’ve had four murders there in the past month, all with the same MO. Blow to the head, sliced throat, and-“
“Strangulation by the garrote.” Stiles breathed, dread coiling up in his stomach. This was familiar. This was way too familiar.
Garcia nodded, not noticing his reaction as she continued. “Yes. The first victim, a Marsha Kale, 16, was the first found in a field right outside of the town, a month ago. The second victim, Daniel Hollow,18, was found two weeks ago in a wooded area behind the soccer field. The third victim, Haley Fisher, 14, was found last week in a local park, and Katherine Day, 25, was found today in the same park as well. The local LEOs have left Katherine’s body where they found it when they called you. They figured you would want to see it in person before they moved it.”
“Looks like the first three victims all went to school together,” Morgan commented.
“And the latest one was a teacher that taught there,” Rossi added. “Could this be some kind of targeting at the school?”
“The Threefold Death.” Stiles frowned. “Ritualistic killings. The blow to the head, the cut throat, the strangulation.”
“I agree with Stilinski. The concepts of the Threefold Death is actually formed by a type of Irish Literature known as “Aided” or “Violent Death” tales. They all feature the deaths of kings or heroes that follow the same basic narrative: a crime was committed against a god, a prophecy is given telling the guilty party that they will die the threefold death, and then the guilty party dies in the deaths foretold.” Reid put in. “However, recently some scholars have been suggesting that in the threefold deaths, each killing blow represents a sacrifice to another god.
“The bodies are face down, eyes closed. Signs of remorse from the unsub?” JJ suggested.
“The blood has been wiped clean from their bodies.” Morgan murmured. “ME report says it was probably something along the lines of baby wipes, but still. The act of cleaning the body shows remorse as well. Perhaps the unsub knew them? Or had some connection with them?”
“Well, Augusta looks like a small town. Only about one thousand people live there, so it is possible that the unsub is local.” Stiles suggested. “That could explain the remorse. He knew them, on some level at least.”
Stiles skimmed through the reports of the victims while he thought. It was possible there was a darach up there, sticking their nose into something they didn’t understand. Of course, he also hadn’t heard anything so far through the emissary vine, so it could just be some crazy person with some obsession with Irish lore.
Probably not.
He’d also need to call the emissary in that part of Montana before they landed so they didn’t think he was trespassing on their territory.
“They’ve called us down there to investigate these bodies because they’ve never seen anything like this before. We don’t know what we’re dealing with here, so we need to get there as soon as we can. Alright?” Hotch swept his gaze around the team before nodding. “Good. Wheels up in ten.”
Reid turned towards him and looked as though he was going to say something, but whatever it was, Stiles never got to find out.
Who let the dogs out?!
Stiles winced as the ringtone blasted through the conference room. He could have sworn he put it on vibrate before he left the apartment. “Sorry, I’m sorry. I need to get this.” He fumbled with it in his hands, apologizing to Reid as he stepped out of the conference room and into the hall. “Scott, I’m kind of in the middle of something. Is this important?” he hissed, sending an apologetic glance towards Hotch
“Stiles! Thank God. Make him stop!” Scott whined. There was a growl and then a clattering crash on the other end of the phone.
Stiles sighed. He knew this was going to happen, he just hadn’t expected it to be so soon. The full moon was tonight, but Stiles hadn’t been expecting this phone call until later tonight. “Put him on the phone, Scott.”
There was a moment of silence and a couple muffled curses (Stiles distinctly heard Erica’s voice) before, “I’m fine!” Issac snarled.
“Issac,” Stiles warned, trying to keep his voice quiet, momentarily forgetting about the possible Darach problem in Montana. “You need to calm down right now.”
Silence answered him on the other side of the phone, Issac’s harsh breathing the only thing letting him know he was still there. “Listen to my heartbeat.” Stiles took a deep breath and focused on keeping his heartbeat steady. He pressed the phone against his chest, right against his heart. “Focus on that, Issac.” he murmured softly. “Take deep breaths until your heartbeat matches mine.”
Stiles let himself fall back into the familiar act of calming down Issac whenever he lost control during the full moon. Stiles was the only one who could touch him without getting maimed, so he would always hold the curly haired werewolf close to his chest so he could hear his heartbeat and calm down. The sound and touch of pack always calmed him down.
After counting down from 100, Stiles lifted the phone back up to his ear and was relieved to hear that it was noticeably quieter. “Thanks, Stiles.” a familiar voice murmured quietly.
Stiles smiled fondly. “No problem, Sourwolf. Is he better now?” he asked, still a little worried. He wasn’t going to hang up unless he was absolutely sure his pup was better.
“Yeah, he’s good now. We’re all here to keep him grounded. I think Erica is about to put in some kind of movie.” Derek ended the sentence as a question and Stiles heard Erica’s ‘hell yeah, Beauty and the Beast’ in the background.
Stiles grinned and laughed. “Ha! Derek, your favorite movie!” He could perfectly see Derek’s face in his mind when he groaned in exasperation, a look full of annoyance and fondness. Beauty and the Beast was most definitely not one of Derek’s favorite movies. Which may partially Stiles fault cause he always teases Derek about being like the Beast. “Well, look, I gotta go, but I’ll call you guys later tonight, alright? We’re heading down to Montana for a case.” he frowned. “There’s something weird about it though.”
“Oh?” The noise in the background grew softer and Stiles figured Derek probably moved to another room where they could talk privately. “Weird how?”
“Darach weird.” Stiles clarified, leaning against the wall and playing with the wedding band hanging around his neck absently. “Four bodies. Threefold deaths. Three of them are high school students and one of them is a teacher. How much you want to bet that those kids are all virgins?”
“Stiles… Do we need to come up there and handle this?” Derek asked, concerned.
Sties shook his head. “No,” he answered when he remembered he was on the phone. “I’ll let you know if it gets out of hand, but I’m pretty sure we can handle this. Maybe if we’re lucky, it’ll just be a crazy person with an obsession of Irish lore.” he grinned.
“Stiles,” Derek sighed in exasperation, but Stiles could hear the fondness in his voice. “Since when have we ever been lucky?”
“Hmm…” Stiles thought contemplatively, an impish smirk forming on his face. “Well,” he began, lowering his voice. “there was that one night when we were in Greece…”
“Stiles!” Derek growled.
The young agent cackled with glee at the embarrassment and lust seeping through his husband’s voice. “You know you liked it.
“Whatever,” Derek grunted, but Stiles knew he was blushing under that fantastic scruff of his. “Your coworkers are whispering about you. Go back to work. And I mean it, Stiles, call us if you need any help up there.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll call.” Stiles sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes. “Love ya Sourwolf.”
There was a mumbled ‘Love you too’ on the other end before Derek hung up and Stiles smiled softly to himself, his toes curling in a hazy pleasure that always came after they said the big ‘L’ word to each other. God, he loved that crazy wolf more than anything. Well, except maybe curly fries. Curly fries were so good…
Stiles fingered the wedding ring hanging by a simple silver chain around his neck almost absently. This was the first true test, he supposed. If he could actually do this. Profile. Of course, he had been doing it for years to monsters before he actually realized what it was and realized he could make a career out of it.
Hopefully, this wasn’t a Darach and he was just leaping to conclusions.
He did however double check that his blade was packed away safely in his to go bag.
When the team finally made it onto the plane, there was a brief discussion about the profile of the killer, but without further investigation, they didn’t really have much to go on. There was no sign of struggle on any of the victims, and no sign of them being drugged, so they must have either trusted the unsub or knew them somehow.
It was difficult finding the connection between all the victims too, even with Garcia’s help, because the town was so small. It seemed like the victims were all connected in the same way. They all went to the same school and went to the same church. Marsha and Haley were cousins and played on the school’s soccer team. Daniel was in the band along with Marsha. Katherine taught Chemistry and was the school’s Color Guard director.
“It looks like Marsha was on her way from soccer practice two weeks before she was found. She was supposed to visit a friends house but never showed.” Hotch said. “Daniel reportedly told his parents he was going to stay late at the school to practice his trumpet for a concert the band was going to have that Saturday and he never came home. This is the last footage we have of him, right outside the school in the parking lot.”
Hotch pressed the play button on the computer and the security cam footage began.
A young boy in jeans and a varsity jacket with the words “MARCHING BAND” emblazoned on the back of it was walking away from the camera in the parking lot. It was completely empty, except for one car which Stiles assumed was Daniel’s.
Then suddenly Daniel stopped walking and turned towards the right like something caught his attention. Stiles wore he caught the brief show a smile, but it was hard to tell in the dark. The after a second, Daniel started walking to the right and walked right off the view of the camera.
“What is that it? That’s not much help. We don’t know what made him stop and leave his car.” Morgan asked. “Is there anymore footage?”
“Sorry, handsome. That’s the last video footage I have of Daniel leaving the school.” Garcia popped up on the screen with an apologetic look on her face.
“Sorry, Garcia? Was it?” Stiles asked. “Could you rewind that video and pause it when he turns?”
“Sure thing, sweet cheeks.”
When the video as paused, Stiles leaned across the aisle and pointed at Daniel’s face. “Right there. Zoom in on his face.” With the video zoomed in, Stiles nodded to himself. “He’s smiling. Or. at least, he starts to smile. Whatever made him take a detour from his car, he obviously knew them.”
Rossi hummed in agreement. “So going off the assumption that it is the unsub offscreen, he must be a familiar face. A local, probably. He knew that Daniel was going to be there after school.
“Alright.” Hotch nodded. “When we land, I want Stilinski and Morgan to check out the latest crime scene. Rossi and JJ, I want you two to go interview Daniel’s parents. See if they know who could have known Daniel was staying late at the school. Reid and I will set up at the station.”
Stiles nodded, indicating he heard but was distracted during most of the plane trip. The possibility of a Darach was still weighing heavily on his mind and he still needed to call the emissary of the territory before they landed.
Quietly, Stiles walked to the back of the plane near the coffee machine and dialed up the number for the emissary Derek had texted him earlier on his phone.
“This is Ryan Bloom, the emissary for the Adair Pack.” A bright tenor voice answered.
“Hello, Ryan. I’m Stiles Stilinski-Hale, the emissary for the Hale Pack.” Stiles began. “I would like to request access to your territory.”
“On what grounds?” Ryan asked, the cheery voice becoming serious.
“I work for the FBI with the Behavioral Analysis Unit. My team was called out to assist in an ongoing investigation in your town. I would also like to request a meeting with you Alpha as soon as possible.” Stiles explained.
“Oh, you’re coming for those murders? Thank goodness.” Ryan sighed, the relief evident in his voice. “One of the victims, Haley, was part of our pack. We don’t have any idea who is behind these killings.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that.” Stiles consoled quietly. He knew the feeling of losing a pack member all too well. “We should be landing soon. I would appreciate it if you could fill me in on everything you guys tried when you looked for her, and the other victims.”
“Of course.” Ryan agreed readily. “We’ll be awaiting your arrival. My alpha is actually the sheriff in town, so you’ll be able to speak with him immediately. He’ll fill you in on everything. Is the rest of your team in the know?”
“No,” Stiles replied immediately, glancing up at the rest of the team on the plane. “No,” he repeated, “And I don’t want them to find out if I can help it. They don’t know me well yet, and I don’t know most of them. Best keep the Supernatural out of this one.”
“Of course,” Ryan said understandingly. “I’ll let my alpha know, then.” he sighed. “I hope you can find whoever is behind this and put a stop to it. Our cubs are starting to get scared of leaving the house now.”
“Don’t worry,” Stiles reassured him grimly. “We’ll find whoever is behind this.” Determination steeled his voice. “We will.”
After saying their goodbyes, Stiles shoved his phone into his pocket and made his way back to his seat across from Rossi.
When he sat down, Rossi put the book he was reading aside and looked Stiles up and down, an unreadable expression on his face before he smirked. “You grew up good, kid. Nothing like the overactive kid always getting underfoot I knew.”
Stiles laughed and was quick to reassure him. “Oh don’t worry. I’m still that same kid. I just know how to hide it better.” he grinned.
“So whatever did happen with that cold case?” Rossi asked curiously.
“Well…” Stiles leaned back in his chair, trying to decide where to start. “We ended up catching the killer. It was a woman,” he added. “I know that didn’t fit your original profile.”
“No, it didn’t.” Rossi frowned. “We had profiled a Caucasian man in his mid-to-late twenties. Someone who had had previous altercations with the Hale family, Talia Hale in particular, due to her status as such an upstanding lawyer.”
Stiles nodded. “You were almost right. You profiled her brother, Chris Argent. Kate Argent was the killer.” he sighed. “She used one of the family members, Derek Hale, to learn about the family and infiltrate the house to trap them all inside when she set the house on fire.” he reached up to his wedding band and twisted it around absently. “She was psychotic. She convinced him they were in love and made him tell her everything about his family.
“When was she finally caught? You keep referring to her in past tense.” Rossi asked.
Stiles snorted. “Not exactly caught. She’s dead. She came back into town a few years back and people started getting murdered again. We found her, and she refused to come quietly.”
“I see…” Rossi hummed. “Well, I’m glad that she was caught. A little disappointed our profile was so off.”
Well, that tends to happen when you don’t know the Argents are Hunters and the Hales are Werewolves, Stiles thought to himself. Aloud, he stated, “You guys still helped a lot. If it wasn’t for your profile pointing directly at her brother, we never would have realized it was Kate.” Which was a lie. But then he grinned. “Besides, watching you and Gideon and the rest of the team work was what got me interested in profiling. Not such a lost cause after all.”
“No,” Rossi chuckled. “No, I suppose not.”
xoxoxo
“You guys from the FBI?”
As Stiles and Morgan exited the black SUV when they arrived at the crime scene, an officer who looked to be in his late thirties walked up to meet them at the edge of the scene. He held up the tape for them to cross underneath as they flashed him their badges. “That’s right. SSA Agents Morgan and Stilinski.” Morgan greeted him.
“Well, I’m sure as hell glad you guys are here. It’s crazy what’s been going on.” The officer shook his head and sighed. “I’m Detective Lewis, I’m the one leading this case.”
Stiles left Morgan to talk to the detective and made his way towards the middle of the crime scene where the body was located. The smell was awful, Stiles could smell it even as they were approaching the crime scene back in the SUV.
Interestingly enough, the body of the teacher was laid face down. Her clothes were dirty and torn up, Stiles could see some bruises along her arms and legs as well, which was new. None of the other victims had defensive wounds, so she must have fought back for a reason the others hadn’t. As he bent down, Stiles snapped on a pair of gloves to investigate the head closer. Gently, he parted her dark, blood caked hair to get a better look at the blow to the back of her head.
“Can you tell what kind of weapon was used to make this?” Stiles asked, directing his question to the ME who was hovering over the body across from him.
The ME glanced up for a moment before returning his attention back to the bruises on the back of her arms. “Initial observation it looks blunt force trauma. If it is anything like the rest of the victims, it was probably-”
“-a baseball bat.” Stiles finished, muttering to himself. “Can we turn her over?”
“Yes.” The ME nodded. “We were waiting for you guys to get here before we did anything with her. Flip her towards me on three.” Both the ME and Stiles gently flipped the corpse onto its back after the count of three. Her eyes were closed, another sign of remorse, Stiles thought to himself. Why was this unsub feeling so guilty about these killings?
The cut on her throat was particularly gruesome. All of the blood had been wiped away, just like all of the other victims, and there were visible signs of strangulation on her throat. “A Threefold Death.” he murmured, the dread in his stomach growing with each passing second. Discreetly, he relaxed his hold on his magic and allowed it to wash over the body.
Immediately he regretted it because he felt like throwing up. There was dark, dark magic still lingering on the body, much like a bad smell lingers around. It was strange, yet terrifyingly familiar. This was definitely the work of a Darach.
He could almost see it, streaks of black magic spread along the entire body, but more focused around the wounds. The wounds themselves seemed to be almost glowing with the dark magic and Stiles had to close his eyes and take a deep breath to calm himself. Freaking out over the Darach wasn’t going to help anyone. Sure, it had been a few years since he had last encountered one, not since Jennifer Blake, but he’s been taking out monsters for years. He could do this.
A hand landing on his shoulder made him jump, but he relaxed when he realized it was just Morgan. “Well, Stilinski? What do you think?”
“The unsub feels remorseful.” Stiles began, standing up next to Morgan and staring down at the body. “She was face down when they found her, eyes closed, just like the other victims. She was cleaned up too, of all the blood at least. This was just another dumping ground for him so he must be holding them somewhere else.”
Morgan nodded in agreement. “Yeah. Reid is getting started on the geographical profile down at the station. Same MO… I wonder what’s driving the unsub to make killings so ritualistic.”
Stiles stayed silent for the time being. He didn’t want to talk about his possible theory until he had a chance to talk to the Alpha. Besides, if this was a Darach, which he was pretty positive it was considering the dark magic, he didn’t want the team to get caught in the crossfire.
He left Morgan to himself and walked a few steps away from the body, turning so he could face the forest on the other side of the park. He breathed in deeply, closing his eyes to center himself and shake off the feeling of the residual dark magic left on the victim. It wasn’t strong, but Stiles knew that with each kill it would grow stronger until it completed the ritual.
Without opening his eyes, Stiles pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed Garcia’s number, which he already had preprogrammed onto his phone.
“He who Seeks the Queen of All Knowledge, speak and be recognized."
“It is I, your majesty, the newest knight of your kingdom, Sir Stilinski,” Stiles answered seriously.
“State your question, Sir Stilinski, and it shall be answered only if you answer a question in return,” Garcia demanded with a slight giggle in her voice.
“I need to know how far out the forest extends beyond this park where the third and fourth victims were found.”
“Hmm…” Garcia hummed. Stiles could hear the faint tapping of her fingers on a keyboard as she looked. “Looks like it extends about… 50 acres out.”
“Great, thanks, Garcia. Could you look into who owns all of that land?” he asked.
“Of course! Now, my turn.” There was a small pause before she asked, “Is your husband really that hot in real life? He can’t be that hot.”
Stiles grinned, already knowing what picture she was looking at. The one of him and Derek in Italy on the beach for their honeymoon. “Hotter. Way, way hotter. and his name is Derek.”
“What!” Garcia squealed. “Stilinski, you can’t-”
“Later, Garcia.” Stiles chuckled and hung up the call. He could already tell where that conversation was going, and as much as he would have liked to continue talking to Garcia about it, he needed to get down to the station.
The young profiler opened his eyes and stared out into the forest. The unsub was a Darach. A Darach in search of immense power. Jennifer Blake wanted the power to defeat the Alpha Pack.
The question was: what did this Darach plan on doing with the power gained from the ritual?
Whatever it was, Stiles needed to figure out fast. The full moon was tonight. It wouldn’t surprise him if another victim was taken tonight.
4 down, 11 to go.
Time was running out.