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Hayden’s concentration broke on the constant stream of internal expletives as Scott pulled her around the corner and out of sight of the literal hunting party currently stalking her through her campus. She pressed herself against the rough concrete and forced herself to stay as still and quiet as possible, even while every muscle tensed, ready to fight or run.
She hated hiding. It was why she chose to attend college in the first place, instead of going to ground like so many other supernaturals had this past year. She refused to let the war stop her from living her life.
Scott hadn’t been hiding for the past year, either. Instead, he’d become the face of international resistance to Monroe’s anti-supernatural agenda. Since she was his beta, this made her a target, as well.
Worse than a target, really. It made her bait.
She inched to the corner of the building to see if the hunters were still lurking there, but Scott reached out an arm to stop her and shook his head. She pushed back her instinct to risk it no matter what he said and slumped back against the wall, focusing on her other senses instead.
Scott was right: when she really listened, she heard rustling and low murmurs around the corner. Combined with the smell of oil and gunpowder that permeated the air, and that meant either hunters or cops. Cops weren’t exactly trained in stealth, so unfortunately she had to conclude that at least two hunters were standing just around the corner, waiting for them to make a wrong move.
“We need to get out of here,” Scott said quietly, apparently thinking the exact same thing that she was. “Do you know somewhere we can hide?”
She did, in fact. One of the college’s auditoriums was just across the street from her dorm, and since it was still pretty early in the day, there shouldn’t be anyone there. But the thought of just moving to another hiding spot galled her.
“And wait for them to find us? We need to get out of here.”
“We will.” His voice was all calm reassurance, and she hated how comforting it was. He was hiding from hunters because of her, he shouldn’t have to worry about supporting her as well. “Derek and Argent are on the way, we just have to stall long enough to—”
Too late.
A third hunter suddenly appeared from the other side of the building and swung a crossbow in their direction. Her tensed muscles sprang into action, and she started to run, grabbing at Scott’s shirt to pull him along behind her. “I know somewhere, follow me!”
“Hayden, wait—”
But she could hear him behind her, so she didn’t slow down. She’d forgotten how good it felt to run with Scott—like an extra burst of adrenaline, a runner’s high she barely had to work for. They were faster than some lame, middle-aged hunters—all she had to do was keep her feet under her, focus on the rhythm of her footfalls, and—
She heard the quiet whine of something fast and aerodynamic cutting through the air before she fully processed what it could mean. Scott’s even tread stumbled and slowed, and she spun around on the balls of her feet just in time to see him pitch forward, a short black crossbow bolt sticking out of his back.
Behind him, the hunter looked almost as surprised as she felt. Not that it stopped him from firing another bolt.
Hayden screamed. Somehow, she managed to get her arm around him before he fell.
“Go, I’m fine,” he said, teeth gritted.
He sounded like every muscle in his body had tensed at once, and she rolled her eyes. “Yeah, like hell.”
They jogged as quickly as they could, setting an uneven pace that felt more like a three-legged race than actual, real running. Scott grunted quietly with every step. She tried not to hear it, because she was afraid if she listened too closely she’d hear his muscle tearing where the bolts were embedded.
They hadn’t shot her. Why hadn’t they shot her? She risked a glance backwards and saw the hunter with the crossbow talking urgently into a walkie-talkie.
“Scott, if we don’t get going like, now , we’re about to have a lot more problems, really quickly.”
He nodded, “I know,” and looked over at her, holding her gaze for about a second longer than seemed strictly necessary. “We can do this.”
He was right. The auditorium was close now—just across the street—and once they were inside, they could block the doors. They’d be safe.
All the same, she hated how her heartbeat steadied and slowed just because Scott said everything was going to be okay.
“Okay,” she said. “All we have to do is make it over there,” she nodded at the auditorium's large double doors.
She propelled them forward at nearly double the speed they’d managed before, and for a moment Hayden was sure they were fast enough, and they’d make it.
Then they stepped into the street, and the first two hunters must have been waiting for them, because they rushed them as soon as Scott and Hayden rounded the corner. One of them, tall and burly with a camo jacket, rushed at Scott, yanking him away from her, and slamming him against the side of the building.
He screamed as the bolts were forced deeper into his back, and something inside Hayden flared to life. Her claws and fangs dropped, and she could feel her eyes glowing gold as she rushed the man, shoulder checking him and breaking his hold on Scott, who fell to one knee on the gravel.
Hayden and the hunter tumbled to the ground. Despite his size, she was stronger, and she pinned him easily.
Blood rushed in her ears, and she barely heard a faint click and the sound of a scuffle behind her as she slashed down with her claws.
“Hayden!”
She pulled up short, one clawed hand hovering over the hunter’s torn, bloody shirt. Her fingers, she noticed, were bloody as well. The hunter’s chest rose and fell in rasping breaths, but he was awake and aware, and Hayden stood up unsteadily.
When she turned around, Scott stood over the second hunter, who was slumped unconscious at the base of the wall. He barely looked winded, despite the pain he must be in.
No wonder supernaturals across the country were clamoring to follow him.
Except she didn’t have any time to think about that, because the hunter on the walkie talkie had apparently finished his call, and raised his crossbow to line up a third shot. Scott grabbed her arm, and they were running again.
Stepping into the road.
Halfway across.
A bolt whizzed past her ear, but when it wasn’t accompanied by a sudden burst of pain or any reaction from Scott, she kept running.
Then, finally, they were out of the open and practically crashing into the auditorium’s double doors. Thankfully, the doors weren’t locked, and they pushed them open together.
While the exterior doors were glass, the interior set that led into the auditorium itself were heavy and wood. Scott nearly doubled over as soon as they finished pushing the doors closed behind them.
“We need to—” he gestured vaguely toward some of the more movable furniture in the room.
“Yeah, I’m already on it.” Two heavy podiums later, and they were relatively secure. At least for the time being. “You know they’ll get in here eventually, right? It’s a college, not Fort Knox.”
Scott shook his head, his breathing raspy and labored now that they weren’t running for their lives. “Don’t have to hold them off for long, like I said—”
“You have people coming. Right.” She knew she was hovering, but Scott looked like he was about to fall over at any minute. “Can you at least sit down? You look like shit.”
Thankfully, he nodded, and they both collapsed in a couple seats in the back row.
“You okay?” he asked, once he caught his breath.
“Am I okay? Scott, I should be asking you that, you just got shot.”
“I’m fine,” he said, but his voice was tight and clipped, and he leaned forward to allow her to take a better look. “I’ll heal.”
She hoped that the look she shot him was appropriately unimpressed. “Yeah, not until these are out of here.” She cursed under her breath when she saw the damage. The two dark bolts stuck out of his back like misplaced bones surrounded by a small halo of blood, and she wrapped a hand tentatively around the closest. “You want me to…”
“No.” He straightened carefully, shrugging off her hand. “They’re not poisoned, and accelerated healing by itself isn’t a good enough reason to pull something without any medical supplies. If you don’t have to.”
Ah.
She wasn’t sure what to do with her hands, so she settled on crossing her arms. “You’re starting to sound like Dr. Deaton.”
The corner of his lip curved into a soft smile. “Yeah, since he taught me that, I should hope so.” Then he turned his head to look at her. “You know we’re going to get out of this, right?”
To her complete horror, Hayden felt tears prickling at the corner of her eyes. She focused on the futile banging on the auditorium doors, instead. “Yeah, no way they’re moving that thing, I’m way stronger than those assholes.”
He raised his eyebrows, and she deflated, sinking back into the folding chair.
“It’s okay to be scared.”
“I know that,” she snapped, then took a shaky breath. “And it’s not that, it’s…”
Behind them, the periodic thud against the doors and following rattle of their makeshift barricade beat a steady rhythm.
“...I’m sorry I got you into this mess,” she finished, all too aware of how pointless the sentiment was.
Scott’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“Scott, you wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for me!” she insisted. “Going to college when I knew all of this was still going down, not to mention living in the dorms . And it’s not like I didn’t have options, I could’ve deferred my enrollment, or—”
“Hayden, stop.” He turned bodily to face her this time, wincing as he did so. “This isn’t your fault.”
“You sure about that?”
“Yes, I am.” His jaw tightened enough that she could hear his teeth grinding, and this time she didn’t think it was from the pain. “You shouldn’t have to think about whether or not it’s safe to go to school, or if joining a sorority will put your friends in danger.”
She grimaced. “I am not joining a sorority.”
“Okay, point taken,” Scott grinned, then sobered, his gaze settling on an empty row somewhere in the middle of the room.
She focused on the thump-rattle behind them. If she didn’t focus on something particular, she’d start pacing, and for once in her life, she didn’t think that more movement would help the situation.
Eventually he spoke again, this time quieter than before. “Actually, I should be apologizing to you. We heard a local hunter cell was in the area, but we didn’t know who they were targeting. Once we figured out it was you, we barely had time to call.”
“And then I wasn’t even the target after all.”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
Hayden wasn’t sure why she was surprised to hear him say it, and when she glanced over at him now, all could think was that he looked exhausted.
It was the same look Val had worn a year after their parents’ death—when all the paperwork was finally signed, the legal minutia of inheritance was settled, and the only thing left was cold, stark reality.
“It all really sucks sometimes, doesn’t it?” She stared at the two bands tattooed around her left wrist, and noticed as Scott followed her gaze. She’d gotten the tattoo a few months ago—her own quiet rebellion against the growing violence—but it struck her that he wouldn’t have seen it before, and she hoped he wouldn’t mind. After all, she was barely a member of the pack these days, even if she was sure he’d insist otherwise.
Thankfully, his eyes softened, and she allowed herself to relax. “Yeah, it really does,” he agreed. “But not all the time. And not forever.”
She didn’t always believe that, but she found that when she was with Scott, she wanted to. “Thank you,” she said finally, “for coming. You didn’t have to do that.”
He snorted. “Not that it did a lot of good, when you were only in danger because of me in the first place.”
“No, fuck that,” she said, surprised by the heat in her own voice. “We’re all in danger right now. And while I may like being by myself, it’s nice to know I’m not alone.” He cocked his head, waiting for her to continue, so she obliged and barrelled ahead.
“It’s something I learned back when it was just Val and me,” she explained. “Some things hurt so badly you don’t think you’ll survive them. But it’s always a little easier when you can share it.”
Scott smiled sadly, and she wondered which of his own tragedies he was thinking about. “I think I know exactly what you mean.” He shifted slightly in place, wincing yet again as the movement pulled his still-damaged back muscles in the wrong direction.
A thought came to her.
“Speaking of sharing,” she gestured at the bolts still embedded in his back, “would it help if I… helped?”
At first Scott only looked confused, but that expression was quickly replaced by one of mild alarm when he realized what she was suggesting. “No, seriously, I’m okay. It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve been shot.”
Now it was her turn to raise her eyebrows. “You do realize that makes it worse, right? Look, they barely even touched me,” she said, warming to the argument now that she had decided to dig in her heels. “And if your plan works we won’t have to fight them again, so that means there’s no reason you should have to be in so much pain.”
“There’s no reason for you to be in pain at all.”
“Scott, you’re the one who’s always talking about how we’re stronger together. You already protected me from the actual danger, you don’t need to protect me from this. Let me help.”
Finally, after a long moment of deliberation, he nodded. “Okay,” he said, then grabbed her wrist as she reached for him. “Don’t take too much.”
“I won’t,” she assured him.
It wasn’t until she placed one hand on his arm and the other just barely under the neckline of his shirt—close to the topmost of the two bolts—that she realized she had no idea what she was doing. When she took Liam’s pain, she’d done it through a kiss, and it hadn’t exactly been premeditated. What if this was the sort of thing that was harder when you actually meant to do it?
Of course, even if it was, there was no backing out now. She tuned out the increasingly sporadic thump-rattle at the door, and focused all of her senses on Scott.
Hayden had never been very good at chemosignals—reading them right required nuance and conjunction, and as a rule, she preferred the straight-forward and direct things in life. But given what she knew about Scott’s approach to pain, she decided a little nuance might be a good thing, and she took a deep breath.
The first and most immediate scent was the iron tang of sweat and blood. It filled her nose, and she found it took some effort to push past it to the subtler scents underneath. Once she managed it, the isolated emotion wasn’t one she’d been expecting.
There, sitting at the back of her throat, was the acrid scent of fear.
Or—not exactly fear. Instead of being sharp and piercing, the emotion was weathered and dull. Like an old, familiar worry, but with a second current dancing in and around it.
Another small tug at the scents, and she finally recognized it for what it was.
Shame.
She could guess what that was about, and it made her about as angry as Scott had been just a few minutes prior.
“You do know that you’re not responsible for anything Monroe and her followers do, right?”
Under her hands, Scott’s muscles bulged and tensed, like he’d rather they tie themselves into knots than let them relax. She wondered how many times this had happened, and if the tension was even a conscious reaction at this point.
The pain that she knew he was feeling still stubbornly refused to transfer over to her, but she figured that he had always been patient with her, and he deserved the same courtesy. Eventually, he responded. “I’m not so sure about that.”
Sure, she’d already moved away by the time everything started to go bad in Beacon Hills, and she hadn’t exactly stayed in the loop since then, but at the same time: “She’s a grown-ass adult. She can make her own decisions, and she decided to cope with almost dying by killing people about it. That’s on her.”
“I wanted to help her,” Scott said quietly. “I still do.” He relaxed when he said it, though, if only slightly, and ever so slowly she began to feel his pain tingling against her fingertips. Hayden held onto the sensation, coaxing it to metabolize in her healthy, pain-free body.
“I’d say she’s beyond helping, but a couple years ago I would’ve said the same thing about Theo.” She tugged gently at the pain, watching as black lines flowed down Scott’s shoulder and up her own arm. “That’s why people follow you, you know.”
Scott snorted, and this time she noted with satisfaction that he didn’t wince as he did so. “Because I’m a hopeless optimist?”
“Because you don’t give up on people.” Scott’s back muscles had become noticeably looser now, and the pain trickling through their bond no longer held the urgency that it had in the beginning. She pulled her hands away carefully. “Better?”
To her surprise, Scott looked almost embarrassed. “Yeah, much better. Thanks.”
The word had a weight to it that once again reminded her of Val, and she decided that maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. “Thanks for coming for me.”
He leveled her with one of his overwhelming, earnest looks. “Always.” Then his phone vibrated, and she looked away first. “Speaking of coming for us, it looks like Derek and Argent are here. You ready to get out of here?”
The thumping at the door had stopped, and she could already hear raised voices in the foyer. She stood up with exaggerated enthusiasm. “Yes please,” she said as she stretched, working out the last of the throbbing pain that was slowly fading from her hands and arms. “You know, everything better be a little more boring next time you visit.”
Scott laughed. “No promises.”