章節 9: А very strange pie
A family dinner was being held at the Argent house. Scott, Alison's boyfriend, was sitting at the table, feeling extremely awkward. Christopher Argent, the head of the family, was having a 'friendly' conversation with him, masterfully putting him in awkward situations. They were now discussing a lacrosse game, and Christopher innocently mentioned that almost all the goals had been scored by Scott's classmate, Alastor Blake. The only goals Scott had managed to score were the result of assists from Alastor.
The conversation was interrupted by a sudden knock on the door. The Argent had not been expecting any other guests but Scott, so everyone looked round.
"I'll get it" said Christopher, getting up from the table and heading for the door. When he opened it he was surprised to see the very person he had just been talking about.
"Hello Mr Argent, may I come in?" pronounced Alastor, smiling dazzlingly.
"What an unexpected surprise, come in. We were just discussing your match" Christopher replied, closing the door behind him.
"Alastor really played great" Alison added with a smile.
"Come on, I'm just a humble striker. All the glory belongs to Scott, after all he was the one who scored the last goal" Alastor retorted with feigned modesty.
Christopher, noticing the ease with which Alastor made conversation, decided to inquire as to the purpose of his visit.
"As a matter of fact, did you want something?" he inquired.
"Yes, you see, the thing is this. A friend and I are making a pie and we're missing a couple of condiments. I thought maybe I could borrow some from you? We are neighbours after all" Alastor said with a charming smile.
"Of course, Alastor. What exactly do you want?" asked Victoria, hiding her suspicion behind a polite smile. Her guest's behaviour struck her as odd.
"I need cinnamon, cloves, and... oh yes, and northern blue aconite. Do you happen to have it?" said Alastor with a slight smirk.
This request evoked different emotions from everyone present. Scott felt a primal fear, realising that the Argents would now guess that Alastor was a werewolf and might soon discover his secret as well. Alison frowned, remembering that aconite was poisonous and, as far as she knew, they didn't add it to pies. Christopher, Victoria and Kate, on the other hand, instantly tensed as they realised who they were dealing with.
"Is aconite added to pies? I've heard it's poisonous" said Alison uncertainly.
"Well, fugu fish is poisonous too, but it's cooked, right? You just have to know how. This pie my friend is willing to to die for" Alastor said with emphasis on the word "die," grinning in a way that made the meaning of his words obvious to everyone.
Christopher, still maintaining his outward courtesy, nodded:
"Of course, after all, neighbours are supposed to help each other. Kate, would you mind helping me out? I'm not sure I can find all this stuff myself"
The smiles at the table became more strained, and the atmosphere in the house visibly changed.
"Sure, Chris. Well, let's go, handsome" Kate said coquettishly, already making plans for the next steps.
They headed towards the garage. Alastor walked ahead, while Kate and Christopher lagged a little behind, discussing their thoughts. Just as Alastor stepped inside, there was a click in the silence-the sound of a trigger being pulled. He instantly felt the cold steel of the gun on the back of his neck.
"What do you think would happen if you were shot in the head with a .50 calibre Desert Eagle?" Christopher asked the question with cold confidence, keeping his finger on the trigger, ready to fire at any moment.
"You can try" Alastor replied calmly, slowly turning to face Christopher
"but trust me, you won't like the consequences"
Their gazes met. Christopher's cold, calculating grey eyes met Alastor's blazing, bright red eyes, whose sclera were as black as the abyss. Christopher couldn't help but notice how absolute calmness and confidence exuded from this young man.
"I've seen plenty of werewolves in my life, but he's in a completely different league. Those eyes, that arrogant smirk, even his gait..... Everything about him screams that he's completely sure there's nothing I can do to him. He's absolutely certain that no matter what bullet I fire, it won't hurt him. You can't play that. He knows for a fact that a headshot from a Desert Eagle won't kill him" Christopher's thoughts raced feverishly through his head as he assessed the situation.
There was a brief but incredibly tense pause before Christopher slowly lowered the gun. Alastor's eyes also returned to their normal colour, hiding the traces of the recent confrontation.
"Kate, get him the bullet" Christopher ordered firmly.
"What, you can't just hand it over!" Kate was indignant, not believing her ears.
"I said fetch it. And you'd better hurry up" Christopher's voice was so determined that Kate didn't dare object. She went out, clearly displeased, but obeyed the order. As soon as her footsteps were hushed, Alastor spoke.
"You need to know two things. Firstly, I'm not the alpha that's doing the attacking. There are two alphas in town right now, and believe it or not, you and I are on the same side-we both want to bring peace back to the town. Secondly, you should tell Allison about the existence of werewolves before she finds out from Kate or your father. Believe me, their methods are, to put it mildly... unpleasant."
"How do I know you're not the one doing the attacks?" Christopher asked coldly.
"I came to town the same day you did" Alastor replied, adding with a slight smirk, 'But something tells me you already realise it's not me.'
Christopher tensed. "He's right. He wouldn't be hiding his involvement if that were really the case. This behaviour is too . arrogant" he thought.
At that moment Kate entered the garage, reluctantly holding out the bullet to Alastor. He grabbed it in a swift motion, flashing a cheeky smile again.
"Thank you, beautiful. I have a feeling we'll be seeing you again" he said with a smirk, looking slyly at Kate.
"You can count on it" Kate replied with a sensual smile, already anticipating how she would torture him.
With a bright smile on his face, Alastor cheerfully said goodbye to those present, wishing them a good evening and thanking them for the 'spice'. He got into his car and travelled with satisfaction to the clinic where he handed the medicine to Derek. A few minutes later the werewolf began to heal.
In the silence of the clinic, there was a sudden sound of slamming doors - it was Scott, out of breath, rushing inside. At that moment, Stiles was inexorably pelting Alastor with questions, his curiosity boundless. The questions came one after another, from the most intriguing to the downright funny.
"Have you ever been to ancient Rome? How old are you really? What's it like to live this long? Have you ever met real knights or dragons?" Stiles gibbered with restless energy.
But their conversation was interrupted by Scott's sharp shout:
"What the hell was that?!"
Alastor, with apparent equanimity and a slight chuckle, replied, unhurriedly:
"What are you talking about, wolf boy?"
"I mean about the way you barged in on dinner! I almost got the bullet! And now they know about you, and they'll soon find out about me, if they don't already!" Scott was seething with indignation, his voice sounding sharp and emotional.
Alastor, keeping his composure, replied "Calm down. They would have found out about you sooner or later. It was inevitable. At least I got a chance to talk to Chris. I think my words reached him."
Scott, having cooled down slightly, turned his attention to Derek, who was lying on the bed, still recovering from his treatment.
"So, Derek, now we're even. We saved your life. So do me a favour - stay away from me and Alison. Otherwise I'll tell her father!" Scott's voice sounded threatening, though there was a touch of teenage resentment in his tone.
Derek raised his eyebrows, smirking faintly: "You really believe them? You think they're going to help you?"
"Why wouldn't they? They're not crazy like you!" Scott burst out.
Derek, tilting his head to the side, said sarcastically: "I'll show you what they really are"
With those words, they left the clinic. Alastor was left alone... or at least he thought he was.
Stiles didn't miss the chance to continue questioning, his voice filling the space again:
"Alastor, listen, were you a nobleman or a peasant? Surely a nobleman! Have you ever been to castles?"
Alastor turned slowly, raising an eyebrow slightly, and said tiredly: "Well, no, Styles. That's enough enquiry for today. Open Google, there are answers to all your questions there."
But that didn't stop Stiles "Hang on, Alastor! There's something else I've been meaning to ask..."
Alastor, however, had already stopped listening to him. With a slight chuckle, he headed for the exit, leaving Stiles alone with his restless curiosity.
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