Stiles's Arc

Chapter 4 of 20

Stiles drives Scott home and texts the others on the way. By the time they pull in, Lydia's car is already at the curb and Kira is on the porch. Nobody speaks. Stiles unlocks the door and leads them up the stairs to his room. He pulls the sheet off the board. Photos, red string, thumbtacks, six victims, one coin taped at the center. Scott steps closer. Lydia's hand goes to her mouth, then drops. Kira just stares at the jackal etched into the black metal. "Start talking," Lydia says. Quiet. Not a request. So Stiles does. He tells them about the dream — the fox spirit, the dark hound, a name he keeps hearing in his sleep that sounds like nogitsune. He tells them about the coin on his pillow. The red eyes in the bushes by his driveway. The thing at the tree line during the game. "I've felt watched since the fourth body," he says. "Every night. I thought if I waited until I had proof, I could keep you out of it." On his desk, his open notebook shows the same two phrases written down the page over and over, the letters sliding sideways from no sleep. Kira reads it without touching it. Her face goes pale. Scott picks up the coin, weighs it in his palm, sets it back down gently. "You don't get to carry this alone anymore," Scott says. "That's done." Lydia is already at the board, fingers moving from photo to photo, finding the gap in the wound pattern before Stiles can point to it. "This one," she says. "This is where it changes." She turns to him. "You should have called us at body two." Then, softer: "We're here now." The wall Stiles built around the case comes down in one breath. He is not alone anymore. He is also more afraid than he was an hour ago, because now three more people he loves are standing inside the circle the jackal has drawn.