◤ chapter seven: ❛ the dark path ❜ ◢

✧

        HIS MUSCLES RELAXED UNDER THE CONSTANT PRESSURE OF HIS SHOWER, THE STEAM RISING AS THE HEAT COURSED OVER HIS LIMBS. Letting out a sigh, he relented under the warmth, the water coating him until his brain forget the events of the day. Fuck. What a fucking day. Never in a million years did he think his life would turn into what it was; a circus of running around finding dead bodies and virginal sacrifices.

         He would've laughed at that a year ago when his biggest concerns involved not understanding a single thing in his math class. Now, though, his concerned involved people fucking dying and an alpha pack being in his hometown and somehow his brother's ex-girlfriend having the ability to find dead bodies. Yeah, that's weird. But all of this is weird. Really, he goes and practices his vocal cords almost every afternoon with a middle-aged woman to see if he can make a bottle break and then if he can make her ears bleed.

         So yeah, none of this normal, and it's not just Lydia. It's him, and it's Scott, and it's Stiles because he knows about ritual sacrifices and seems too far interested in the supernatural world. Personally, if he wasn't one of those supernatural beings, he wouldn't give a single shit about everyone else. No, he would high tail it out of Beacon Hills just like Jackson, but alas he had to actually deal with this shit instead of running off to London.

         When he had decidedly spent too long in the shower, and the clocked turned to one, he turned off the water and stepped out, drying himself off before pulling on a pair of powers and an old t-shirt. He rubbed his eyes, stretching his arms out, about to climb into bed and get too little sleep when there was a knock at his window. Which – well, that had never happened before. Living on the second floor meant there was a never a knock at the window, and yet...

         Cautiously, Cooper tiptoed towards the window, trying to figure out the hell to open it and when he finally did, blinking back in surprise. "Scott? What the fuck are you doing here?"

         Scott had the decency to at least look sheepish, peering up at Cooper with those large doe eyes of his before asking, "Can I come in?"

         He nodded, stepping back to allow Scott room to climb through the window. "How did you even get up here?"

         "Werewolf abilities," he shrugged, closing the window behind himself before standing too awkwardly, his eyes darting around the room before training themselves on Cooper, cheeks going pink out of embarrassment that his eyes had been wandering.

         Taking pity on him, Cooper crossed his arms and asked, "What are you doing here?"

         "I just wanted to check up on you," the werewolf muttered, eyes now darting away from him.

         He blinked, curiosity filling him before groaning. This must be a siren thing. He attracted people, pulled them in, made them do crazy things for his attention. He had an allure – not one that he could control – and that's why Scott was there. He had been pulled in.

         Cooper took a second, closing his eyes and tried to draw him anything that oozed siren on his body. Scott once said that he smelled different, a bit rosier, and Julia had confirmed that sirens had something sweet surrounding them in their aura. It was the pull, the attraction, and a trained siren could magnify the aura but also destroy it. Temporarily, of course.

         He pulled that aura in, taking away any level of attraction, but seeing as he wasn't trained enough to see his own aura, he didn't know if it worked. When he opened his eyes, Scott was peering at him with his own curious eyes which caused him to sigh but step closer to the beta.

         "Look, I appreciate it, but I'm fine. There was no reason to walk or...however you got here, to see him. And, you know, I'm sorry if my aura has been too strong on you," he apologized, gritting out the words. Whittemores didn't apologize; everyone knew that, but he also knew that Scott deserved him. He absolutely hated being a siren in moments like these.

         "What?" Scott blinked out in surprise.

         "It's a siren thing. You know, makes us irresistible and everything. It's nothing intentional, so I'm sorry if that messes with your werewolf senses or anything. You didn't have to come check on me," Cooper explained, feeling only a small flush of embarrassment.

         "I came here because Stiles said you guys found a dead body. Or, Lydia found a dead body and then she called Stiles and you were with him," Scott said slowly, as if he was explaining it to a toddler, "I just – I wanted to make sure you're okay."

         And, yeah, finding that dead body in the pool and all the blood floating around in the water was worthy of being traumatic, so maybe he had a point. But hadn't stranger things happened? Lydia brought Peter Hale back to life, and that had to be weirder than finding a dead body, and finding out that it was part of a whole virgin sacrifice situation was weirder –

         But not traumatic.

         Okay.

         So maybe Scott had a point, and maybe asking if he was okay was sweet, but that still didn't clear up why that had to be tonight and not tomorrow at school. So it had to be the siren attraction; Scott had just gotten swept up into it and now he was here and being sweet and utterly Scott. God, that's awful. He hated people gushing over him, anyone buying him lunch or chocolate and looking up at him like he built the fucking world. Worship was overrated.

         But Scott wasn't looking at him like that; it was simple concern, as if that was the only reason. And this was getting them nowhere.

         "Right," Cooper nodded, but everything in his tone implied that he didn't believe Scott's reasoning for a second, "Well, thank you for the concern, again, but I'm fine. I'll get over it. Go home, Scott, it's late and we have school."

         Scott smiled at him, bright and with those doe eyes that sparkled. "See you tomorrow," and there was the crush. The hero worship. The supposed to be adorable puppy love that Cooper knew too well, had seen on too many people.

         He closed the window and locked it after Scott jumped out of it, burying his face in his hands and letting out a large groan. God, Scott was just supposed to be nice. Someone who tried too hard to get Cooper involved and comfortable with the supernatural world while he figured out his siren shit, and now Cooper had fucked it all up with his siren shit.

         Okay. No problem. All he had to do was avoid Scott at all costs and try to destroy his aura again tomorrow after it grew back. It would fine. Right?

✧

         "THERE'S ANOTHER dead body?" Cooper groaned, looking between Scott, Isaac, and Stiles who all nodded at him. "Well, fuck me. Of course there is."

         He moved away from them, slugging his bag across his shoulder, already wishing to bang his hand into the wall and go home and sleep because he had been at school for all of five minutes and now there was yet another dead body. Because of course last night couldn't just be a one off, and of course there couldn't be a break between all of these murders, they had to be back-to-back, and of course they found another one.

         Oh, and of course they had to make this his problem now by telling him.

         "Okay. Virgin still?" he asked, turning his head to look at Stiles.

         "Don't know yet – he had a girlfriend so I'm gonna ask her later," Stiles said.

         "Like that's not awkward – hey I'm sorry your boyfriend just died but quick question: have you two had sex or is he a virgin?" Cooper rolled his eyes, "Yeah, that'll go great."

         "Well, do you have any suggestions?" Stiles snapped back.

         "No."

         "That's what I thought."

         "I think Deucalion did it," Isaac voiced, "He sent Ethan and Aiden here to spy on us. I bet they killed him and the others."

         "Why?" Cooper turned to him, "I don't know a lot about werewolves, but I'm pretty sure you guys don't do sacrificial killings."

         "If they are sacrifices," Isaac pointed out, opposing him.

         "All of them were virgins. That's a weird coincidence," Cooper shook his head, "But sure, say that they killed all these people. What are you going to do about it?"

         "I'm gonna kill them," Isaac said decisively.

         Cooper's eyes panned to Scott's, "What?"

         "We've been trying to talk him out of it," Scott defended himself, "Isaac just doesn't like to listen."

         He sighed. "Isaac, what do you think you're gonna accomplish by killing them – and that's if you can. Is that going to bring anyone back to life? No. It's not."

         "It'll stop them from killing anyone else. They killed the woman that saved me – they deserve it."

         Isaac was so confident when he spoke, so sure of himself, like he was the moral compass and knew right from wrong so tightly. And, quite honestly, this was the last thing that Cooper wanted to deal with. Instead, he gave Scott a pointed look. "This is your problem. Take care of it."

         "Working on it," Scott confirmed with a nod of his head, and Cooper took the time to look at his eyes. They were different now, more focused and serious. Doe eyes turned so dark, no sparkle but determination, and nothing hazy or could be adorable about them.

         Well, that's better then.

         It was just a siren thing. Good to know. Good to have the confirmation, but he should probably talk to Julia about it because destroying his aura every single time he was going to be near Scott was not a good long-term solution.

         "Great. I'll go with Stiles and be the dick who asks the dead guy's girlfriend if he was a virgin," he broke eye contact, turning towards Stiles, "Ready?"

         The Stilinski boy nodded. "Yeah, she should be talking to the police right now, so we just gotta wait."

         He followed after Stiles, not looking back at either of the wolves, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, looking more normal than Stiles who crouched down to look through the window to see the police interview. God, it was unbelievable that no one had walked by and asked any questions. Stiles really did get by on sheer luck, didn't he?

         Stiles sprang up when the door opened, revealing a blotchy-eyed girl who was wiping her tears. "Um, hi, Ashley. Hi. Can I talk to you for just one sec? Sorry, I just need to ask you something really quick, and it's gonna sound unbelievably insensitive, so I apologize in advance. Um..."

         "Did you guys have sex?" Cooper cut in, breaking Stiles' nervous ramble, "You and your boyfriend – did you guys do it?"

         Ashley looked between the two in confusion as she was being ushered away. "No. He wasn't a virgin," she said before turning away from them.

         Cooper and Stiles looked to each other before Stiles' dad glared angrily at them both. "Have you completely lost your mind? I've got four murders, Stiles. You see those men in there? That's the FBI – they're pulling together a task force to help, because it looks like we've got a full-blown serial killer on our hands. You get that?"

         "Yes, dad. I get that," Stiles nodded.

         "They what are you two doing?"

         "We're trying to find a pattern," Stiles supplied, looking more defeated at the revelation that the dead boy wasn't a virgin. The sheriff let them go, so the two immediately scrambled away.

         "That breaks the pattern," Cooper spoke first, "He's not a virgin, but he's obviously still involved. I mean, what are the chances it's an unrelated murder?"

         "Low. Very low," Stiles agreed, "But what does it mean? The last three had that connection, and now..."

         "Okay. Murderer's done with virgins. What would be next? People who have too much sex? Because if so, I might be on their list," Cooper said.

         "We should talk to Lydia. She's smart, she might know something else about ritual killings," Stiles suggested.

         "Oh, like you? Sorry to break it to you but it's not actually common for teenagers to know things about ritual killings, it's actually very weird. I, for one, have never looked up ancient methods of murder and Pagan rituals or anything else," Cooper muttered.

         Stiles gave him a look, which was probably meant to silence him, but Cooper just glared back. "Lydia."

         "Alright, fine," Cooper reluctantly agreed, "No need to get snippy about it."

         He felt Stiles elbow his rib and immediately went to massage the area, not giving the other boy the satisfaction of hearing him in pain, but man did it hurt. Who knew Stiles could pack a mean elbowing? The boy was scrawny at best, with absolutely no muscle, but damn his bones hurt when pressed into his ribs.

         It didn't take long to find Lydia, as the strawberry blonde barely stopped to greet them. Stiles rushed by her side while Cooper took the right side.

         "You know that there's a temple in Calcutta where they used to sacrifice a child every day? That's every day a dead baby, Lydia – every day! Hey, you want to know what today is? It's Dead Baby Day. Oh, no, wait, that's every day, because every day is Dead Baby Day, yay!" Stiles rambled on.

         "Why are you telling me this?" Lydia asked, exasperatedly.

         "Why do you know this?" Cooper asked in return.

         "Because Scott's dealing with the Alpha twins, and I have a fascination with religious ceremonies," Stiles answered, as if both those things were the easiest reasons in the world. As if it was obvious he would know all of this. Then, he stopped, and looked back Lydia, "...You don't know about the twins?"

         "Alphas?" Lydia asked, a slight bit of shock trembling out of her voice.

         "Ethan and Aiden...?" Stiles prompted.

         "Oh, yeah. Yeah, I knew about them."

         "Okay," Stiles looked at her then traded looks with Cooper, "Okay, good. So, look, here's what we're thinking – we're thinking that the murders maybe come in threes. Ancient people love things in threes, right? So, maybe first it's three virgins, and then, I don't know...maybe it's three people who own little dogs?"

         "I own a little dog," Lydia frowned, then sighed, "I am not getting rid of my dog!"

         "Would you just think about getting rid of your little dog?" Stiles asked.

         "No!" Lydia adamantly exclaimed, "And, by the way, you cannot discern a pattern by a single data point, so stop trying."

         "Did he even own a little dog?" Cooper asked, but Stiles ignored his comment.

         "Wha – okay, so what? I'm just supposed to wait around for someone else to die, then? I'm just supposed to sit there and watch them die? Just wait around for them to wither up and die right in front of me?" Stiles dramatically asked.

         "I doubt you're going to witness everyone die," Cooper completely negated his point.

         "Wither?"

         "You know what I mean! Die, in a just hideously awful, strangulating, head-bashing, throat-cutting kind of way!" Stiles explained.

         "Maybe it's not your job..." Lydia suggested carefully, "You said it yourself, they were strangled with a garrote. That's a human thing to do, so...maybe just leave the figuring it out part to someone human?"

         "You mean, someone like my dad?"

         "No. I mean, you dad – the sheriff," Lydia clarified, she gave him one last pointed look before walking away.

         Cooper sighed, crossing his arms then looking at Stiles. "You know, maybe she's right. Maybe there's nothing supernatural about it and you should just leave this to your dad. It's not your responsibility to find just a regular 'ole serial killer."

         "Ritual sacrifice isn't normal," Stiles disagreed, a frown present on his face that he wasn't getting anywhere.

         "Hey, you don't have to have everything figured out now," he said as comforting as he could, the words awkward on his tongue.

         Stiles' head snapped up, and the spark that Lydia depleted came back. "Deaton."

         "What?"

         "Deaton – Scott's boss – he, like, knows everything about the supernatural. He has to know something," Stiles grinned, practically running away. Cooper hesitated for a moment before running after him.

         "Where do you think you're going?"

         "The animal clinic."

         "We have school. In case you haven't noticed, it's the middle of a school day, you can't just leave," Cooper disagreed, tugging him back.

         "I can't just stay here either," Stiles shook his head, "look you don't have to go with me, but I'm not staying either."

         And he should – he really should go with Stiles, because he was already so involved in this mess and he shouldn't let Stiles be alone, but he also really did not want to hear anything more about these deaths. It was getting a bit much, honestly, and he just needed a break. Something normal, as close to normal as he could.

         So, he watched Stiles leave, turning back and waiting for the next class period to start.

✧

         "THANKS FOR THE ride home," Penelope smiled at him, and he forced himself to return it. She had a slight blush on her cheeks, standing a little too close as they walked up to the door.

         "It's no problem, I had to swing by anyways," he brushed it off but Penelope shrugged.

         "Still, it was really nice of you," she insisted, and he could see the small haze in her eyes and the twinkle there, too. God, this was awful. He absolutely hated his life.

         Penelope unlocked the door, letting them both in, and bounced up the stairs as Cooper walked through the living room into the kitchen, clearing his throat to alert Julia of his presence as the woman had her back turned, focused on washing dishes.

         "I wasn't expecting you today," she said in lieu of a greeting, and Cooper took this as an invitation to sit down at the kitchen table.

         "How did you know it was me?"

         "I always know. You have such a loud presence, but your aura is small today," she noted, turning off the water, drying her hands as she gave him a pointed look.

         He refused to be ashamed or embarrassed for killing off his aura – it had to be done – but as he looked at Julia it felt like he had done something wrong. "Yeah, I had to weaken it, it was, uh, interfering with some of my friendships."

         Julia hummed, nodding and moving to sit across from him. "The curse of our kind. I can't tell you the amount of times I've had to end friendships when the other person wanted something more. Quite unfortunate, but I hope it works out better for you than it has for me."

         "Yeah," he agreed, a loss for other words. "That's not the only thing I wanted to talk to you about."

         "Oh?"

         "I may have done the one thing you told me not to and kinda sorta got involved with the alpha pack," he smiled sheepishly at her, "But, in my defense, my involvement has only been indirect."

         "Cooper..."

         "I know, I know, but – I can't just not help my friends," he defended himself.

         "Cooper," Julia brought her hand to cover his, effectively silencing him, "I don't think I have to remind you dangerous they are."

         "It's not just them. Someone's been sacrificing people, and I can't stand by and do nothing with that either," Cooper continued, "And I know it's dangerous and sometimes I lose control, but I have to do something. Even if it's just running around finding information."

         Julia stared deep into his soul, gripping his hand a little tighter, before sighing and pulling back. "If this is what you want to do, we're going to have to practice more. Werewolves especially are easy prey for us, what with their enhanced hearing. Come, let's train to break their eardrums."

         She stood up, opening the back door to the yard and Cooper didn't hesitate to join her. This felt better, actually learning to not just defend himself but attack others, take some action in this if danger was going to be sticking around.

         The hours passed until he was there for dinnertime, helping Julia and Penelope cook, swept away in the domesticity of this that his home never had. This, with them, was warm as he stirred the pasta, while his house was cold and barren. This was a family meal, while there he always ate alone.

         Only his phone brought him out of it, moving to the foyer to take Stiles' call. "What happened now?" he didn't waste time greeting the boy, knowing that if Stiles was calling him it was because he found something.

         "I found out who's sacrificing people – or, I found out what they are. There's a creature called a druid, they are the protector of a pack – the advisors and healers – but druids can go evil, take the dark path. It's a darach. The killer's a darach."