บท 144: CHAPTER 140
"But that's not what you came here to listen to, is it?" This was a surprising deviation from the barebones plan she had laid out but it couldn't be said that it was a bad thing, all things considered.
"And what will it take for you to answer me?" Tristan said, completely ignoring her words and outright preventing himself from falling into her flow.
If one were to ask Tristan what led up to this decision of his, all he could say was that it was something he felt like doing.
The counselor sighed at Tristan's persistence and though she didn't know what brought it on, she knew she had to address it rather than playing it off.
"Know this, regardless of what I tell you, true or false, know that I can't and will not help you, or your pack in extension, in any way. This is not a board where my participation-"
Before she could finish her sentence, Tristan had interjected by cutting her off. "No offense, but is this a shrink thing?"
"What thing?"
"The whole 'talk' thing where you never answer the question. And no, I didn't mean anything rude by that."
The two of them held a harmless stare for a few seconds before Ms. Morrell broke it off with an amused laugh when it turned out that Tristan truly wasn't trying to be sarcastic or anything else his words might have sounded like except for what it was.
"Well, nothing like that. Though I won't lie and say it's a much needed social skill in this line of work." She said, "And as for your question, I'm not a supernatural creature. I'm fully human, a special type, but human nonetheless."
"Druid then?" Tristan remarked, somewhat understanding what she was trying to say.
Seeing no other reason to skirt the topic, she nodded her head but held out a hand to stop Tristan from saying more. "As for the identity of the person behind the sacrifices, I can only tell you that I can't help you in that front because I don't know who they are-"
"That's a lie." Once more were a pair of cold eyes staring down. Yes, their conversation has been civil from the beginning but as far as Tristan was concerned, they were not on the same side.
Ms. Morrell stopped and looked at Tristan, this time with a small frown on her face that soon mellowed out into impassiveness.
'He's an Alpha now, and not just any Alpha. A vampiric Alpha, a Primearch if nothing else.'
"I don't think you understand." She started.
"If you are not going to say the truth then don't speak at all." Tristan's eyes bore in Ms. Morrell's and the red of his eyes glowed a tone brighter as a wave of compulsion spread out from it involuntarily.
Ms. Morrell felt the wave that came with a feeling of tiny needles pricking at her head. 'Compulsion already?! He's growing fast despite his lack of the sufficiently required amount of blood!'
Her thoughts revolving around Tristan were a mystery to everyone, including Tristan, not that he cared all that much for her thoughts, and only she knew her reasons for it.
'Whoever said ignorance is bliss has to be one of the most ignorant men of his time.'
"It's not a lie, at least not the way I meant it to be." She started. "I knew her once upon a time, or at least who she used to be. As for who she is now, I have no idea."
Tristan nodded. It wasn't a full truth, he knew that. 'Satomi always said something along the lines of observing the rules of war.' He could push for more answers, uncaring if the passive-aggression turned full aggression, but not until he hears what he wants to hear.
"Deucalion. Are you his Emissary?" A positive answer to this was a ticket to full aggression from Tristan.
Ms. Morrell sighed. "Yes."
Tristan said nothing else and stood up from his seat, leaving for the door but was stopped by Ms. Morrell's words.
"Deucalion must be stopped, that is what I want. If no one does it then believe me when I say this; Deucalion will be the end of all that you love."
Whatever it was she expected him to say or to follow up with were not the words her ears received given how slack-jawed his response had left her.
"And so?"
"… Eh?"
"Do you want me to kill Deucalion or what? I'm just a slightly better 17 year old boy, you remember that, right?" Again, his words could be read as sarcastic but the way he said it made it anything but.
And dumbfounded was how Marin Morrell watched Tristan leave her office before letting out a pearl of chuckles. "Oh dear. I think you're right. Children like you shouldn't be worried about our mistakes… unfortunately, that is not to be."
After leaving the guidance counselors office, Tristan came across his science teacher, Adrian Harris.
"Hayes, just the man I was looking for."
"Me?" Tristan pointed to himself and let out an inaudible groan as he saw Mr. Harris nod.
"Your grade in the sciences is falling behind and while I understand you are an ace of the lacrosse team, I will be forced to bring this up with Coach Finstock if this persists. Are we understood?"
"Loud and clear."
Escaping Harris, Tristan pondered what he had gleaned from his brief talk with Ms. Morrell.
While he didn't ask as many questions as he wanted to, the scant answers he had gotten from her helped ease up the complications that were brewing in his head.
Right now, with him and Derek on the side of the Buddhist pack, they had the momentum over Deucalion, no matter how powerful the old werewolf might be.
The twins might be stronger than any single Alpha when joined together but that didn't explicitly mean that they needed only Alphas to fight them. Being jumped by an Alpha and a few betas, in other words Derek's whole pack, were more than enough for them.
The only unanswered question was of the druid that was hell-bent on killing Deucalion's pack, but that part held little interest and importance. Only the sacrifices and stopping them were of importance.
'It's up in the air if she would have answered that, though I doubt that.'
Druids, especially those acting as Emissaries, more times than not, shared pacts with the Alphas of the packs they acted as guides to. So Morrell saying she couldn't help, all the while also helping indirectly pointed at something akin to a druidic oath or a warped sense of loyalty.
"I'm 17 for crying out loud." He whined. He had been lucky enough in managing to convince Coach to let him sit out practice with a flimsy excuse made more believable since he rarely, if ever, skipped practice. "Great! And now I have to double the work I put into my study."
…..
"Are you sure he's not going to want to blow your head off?"
"Shouldn't that be my question?"
While Tristan was having another bout of existential crisis and cursing the circumstances around his life, Allison and her best friend were pulling up to Allison's driveway.
"For the record, I'm not on board with this at all. Why did I allow you to drag me into this in the first place?" Allison took in deep breaths to calm herself before turning the car off and alighting it, still jumpy despite this being everything she's ever wanted.
"Don't worry, I'll be fine." Malia said with a confident grin. "It's not like this is the first time I'm visiting or something."
Strolling in unbothered, Malia entered into the Argent's home as if she was still a welcomed friend and not the passive acquaintance based on conditions that she currently was.
"Hey sweetie, how was… school…?"
Crack.
The glassware on Chris' hands broke apart and it took him everything not to reach to the cabinet an arms length away and pull out the pistol in it.
"… Allison?" Chris called out to his daughter who looked half part embarrassed and apologetic.
She answered by sending out a weak wave, quickly accompanied with a wince as she saw her mother coming down the stairs.
"Hello Mr. and Mrs. Argent." Malia greeted them. "Oh, I was the one who told Allison that I wanted to come over." She clarified.
Chris nodded, turning to his wife, and said. "Don't worry, honey, I'll take it from here." Before turning back to Malia. "And can I know what brings you here?"
The family of three, including the retreating mother, now all looked at Malia for her words and what she said was so simple, hence why it made it even more hard to believe.
"I want you to teach me how to hunt and kill an Alpha." Malia said.
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