Stiles's Arc

Chapter 8 of 20

Derek arrived within the hour, shaking rain off his jacket as he stepped inside. Stiles slid the coin across the kitchen table and started talking before the door even closed. Lydia opened her notebook and pushed her sketch toward him — the tall figure, the jackal head, the gold lines under the fur. Scott stood close, arms crossed, listening the way he always listened. Like every word mattered. Derek studied the sketch. He didn't look afraid. He looked confused. He spread the crime scene photos across the table and tapped two of them with one finger. "The timeline doesn't fit," he said. "The deaths started before this thing showed up." Scott frowned. "What does that mean?" Derek picked up the coin. He turned it over once. "It's called an Anubite. Marked by Anubis. The stories say they aren't killers. They're guardians. Trackers of things that cross over when they shouldn't." He set the coin down beside the sketch. "Whatever killed those six people — it wasn't this." The room went quiet. Stiles felt the floor shift under him. Every wall on his board, every photo, every red string — all pointing the wrong way. "So if it's not hunting us," he said slowly, "then it's hunting whatever is." Derek's eyes moved to the dark window. He didn't answer. He didn't have to. Stiles sat down hard. The case wasn't closed. It had cracked open. There was something else out there — something the Anubite had been tracking, something that had been killing under their noses while they chased the wrong shape. He looked at Scott. For the first time in weeks, he didn't want to carry it alone. "We need a new board," he said. Scott nodded once. "Then we start tonight."