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The horizon looks orange in the distance, like the sun has just set. Lydia knows better, knows that this is the deadest part of night and the effect is from the city lights far off from the middle of the nowhere she’s found herself in. She swallows, the familiar tightness in the back of her throat a constant reminder of what they are here to do. Its reflex by now to try to swallow it down, but the only thing that will make it go away is for her to follow the throb of it and listen to the voices as they tell her when death is coming. Maybe then they can stop it.
She shivers at the breeze that reaches her even on top of the abandoned hovel she is resting on top of. New Mexico is cold this time of night and her light top isn’t really blocking out the elements.
“Damn.” Stiles curses from behind her. “Lydia, crouch down here and help me block the wind. It’s messing everything up.”
Lydia turns to see her boyfriend of a year crouched over a small tub of water, leaves floating on the surface. Lydia kneels by his side, body blocking the wind from spreading the circle of ground mistletoe around the tub. Once the powder is spread in two circles around the tub, Stiles glances at his phone, double checking the instructions from Deaton. Lydia has faith that he’s got everything right. Every time they need to do a spell and Deaton can’t be there to do it, Stiles always ends up the one cast it. Out of all of them he seems to have the most aptitude and the spells always go off without any problems. He’s even joked that Deaton should just apprentice him in the druidic arts. Lydia doesn’t think it’s such a bad idea.
“Okay. It’s done.” Stiles nods at her, signaling her turn. They get up and walk to the edge of the roof, peering at the equally abandoned building next door and the alleyway in between. There is a bow and sling of arrows resting on the partition. She picks it up and selects an arrow. Notching it, she feels the familiar rush and hears a beloved voice when she touches the string.
‘Remember to breathe.’
‘Visualize where you want the arrow to go.’
‘Don’t worry about only being able to use the pinch draw. At least your release will be clean.’
She can almost feel Allison’s hand on her shoulder as she draws back. She breaths and imagines the arrow flying straight and true to the barrel in the alleyway. She releases and hears the thunk the arrow makes as Stiles is pulling her down behind the partition. He’s just in time as a second later the arrow activates and ignites the gas in the barrel. The explosion is deafening and she can feel the heat of it reach them even from three stories up.
She hears shouts and can imagine the omegas running out to investigate the noise. There is a howl, Scott, and the sounds of fighting from the alleyway.
“Come on,” Stiles grabs her hand and leads her to the roof access. She slings the bow and arrow over her shoulder and follows him down the three flights of stairs. Lydia feels the throbbing in her throat grow stronger as she draws nearer the prophesized death.
They emerge behind the alley and find Kira cutting down a large omega, lightning dancing along her sword. “Kira,” Stiles calls. “We’ve got to go while they’re distracted.”
That had been the plan all along. Distract them with a frontal assault while Kira, Stiles, and Lydia sneak into the hopefully empty building and get Isaac and Derek out. Lydia peers around the corner to see how well it is working. Malia is slashing at one bulky omega while Scott is taking on two. Argent is holding two off with gunfire, the females looking for their opening to attack.
“Stiles, I don’t see the Darak, and there’s still one omega missing.” Lydia tells him.
“Do we go?” Stiles asks, looking to Kira and Lydia.
“We go.” Kira answers, “I should be able to handle one omega, and if the spell worked then the darak won’t be a problem.”
Stiles nods and the three of them edge past the alley and into the abandoned warehouse. The sounds of the fight are muffled when they step foot into building. It has a damp smell to it and the dim lighting combined with the sudden stillness makes Lydia break out into goose bumps.
Kira leads the way, sword drawn and steps cautious, watching the shadows and around corners for any threat. Lydia hangs at the back, arrow notched and resting while her fingers tangle in the bow string.
‘It’s okay.’
‘You can do this.’
‘You’ll save them, I know you will.’
‘No one’s going to die tonight.’
Lydia lets Allison’s voice give her strength. She can do this. She may not be as well trained or even have any hand-to-hand skills at all, but she’s been training with the bow and arrow for months. She’s not as powerless as she once was.
Progress is slow as they make their way to the basement – why is it always the basement – and Lydia wants to scream in frustration, their slow pace not mixing well with the urgency she feels tugging at her throat.
Eventually they find Isaac and Derek, both chained to the wall. They both look a little beat up and tired, but overall not too bad.
“What are you doing here,” Derek growls as Kira’s sword makes quick work of cutting through their chains.
“God Derek, could you be anymore ungrateful? It really makes saving your ass a pleasure,” Stiles snarks as he grabs Derek’s wrists and attempts to pick the lock still holding the metal cuffs on. Kira does the same for Isaac.
“I’d be more grateful if you all didn’t interfere. I had everything under control.”
“No you didn’t.” Isaac says to Derek, then turns to Kira and says, “No he didn’t. I’m glad you came.” Kira smiles and manages to get the locks undone. The cuffs fall to the ground and Isaac tries to rub the feeling out of his skin, giving Kira a grateful nod of thanks.
Derek gives Isaac what Stiles likes to call his ‘sour-wolf’ face but Lydia thinks is more like a ‘constipated-wolf’ face. “Things will be even less in control when we are all slaughtered by their darak.”
Stiles also gets the cuffs off but receives no look of thanks from Derek. Lydia rolls her eyes. Honestly, you’d think Derek would be used to being rescued by now. She can’t even keep track of how many times he’s been held captive in the time they’ve know him. This isn’t even the first time he’s been taken outside of state lines.
“Okay, first of all, the darak is powerless thanks to this handy spell Deaton gave us.” Stiles holds up his fingers and counts them out, right in Derek’s face, “secondly, we’ve got three werewolves, a werecoyote, a kitsune, a badass hunter, and a banshee. Kira’s already taken down one omega, I think we can handle six more.”
Before anyone even knows what’s happening, Lydia has drawn the bow and let an arrow fly, almost as if her actions aren’t her own. It finds its mark, boring itself in the face of the omega coming around the corner. Almost immediately the throbbing in her throat is gone. “Five. Five more.” She says, smirking at the astonished looks on her pack’s faces.
“You are so sexy.” Stiles says, voice filled with awe. Derek and Isaac give him a withering look.
“Well I don’t know about you guys, but I like those odds.” Kira says. “Shall we?” she inclines her head toward the way they came and Derek and Isaac follow her out.
“Are you okay?” Stiles asks as Lydia watches the three shape shifters walk away.
“Yeah,” she says, even though she’s a little shaken up, a delayed reaction from the adrenaline she felt. “I think so. It was a little strange. My body just reacted. I could hear the voices getting louder and the sounds of tearing flesh. It felt like someone else took control of my body, then the screaming stopped.”
“You were amazing. You saved a life.” Stiles says, awed.
“I know,” she says, her voice breaking on the last word. Relief causing her eyes to fill with tears. Her powers are so rooted in death and tragedy. There was a time she felt so hopeless, like there could never be any good that would come from an ability that essentially led her to just showing up to find the bodies. She quickly wipes at the tears, “The feeling in the back of my throat is gone now so I think we’re all going to make it out alive.”
“Good.” Stiles says and grabs the hand not still holding the bow. “Let’s go. And when we get home, I’m going to let you rip all my clothes off and have your wicked way with me.”
Lydia laughs, Stiles’ humor tethering her emotions and grounding her. She still needs to concentrate and not fall into a false sense of security. Just because she no longer felt death creeping around the corner didn’t mean it wasn’t still there; it didn’t mean that one of them couldn’t be seriously hurt. She was still coming into her powers.
Later that night, when everyone is tired but alive and resting in their hotel rooms, Lydia does have her way with Stiles, many times.