lydiascreams | For drawnhere

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She knew there was trouble. Of course there was. There were hit men. Professional hired assassins looking for them. This was somehow even scarier than dealing with the supernatural because these men? They didn't care what happened, they didn't have a master plan or a goal like most of the supernatural creatures they'd dealt with before. No. They just wanted their money, and for that? They had to kill them.

If she thought the meeting with Araya was going to be bad, it had just gotten a lot worse. And really, by now, she should always assume the worse.

Lydia was still terrified of failing someone else because her powers weren't working properly. Because she had no idea how to control them. So the second she felt that knot in her stomach along with her anxiety rising, she closed her eyes and let her instincts guide her.

It was almost three in the morning. She hadn't been sleeping well lately so she was still up. Reading. Trying to improve herself. And now she was parked outside the police station.

She rushed in and when she stopped, she was staring down at Deputy Parrish's desk. The chill down her spine got stronger and the voices in her head got louder.

It was him. He was the one they were coming for. She knew his name was on the list but she didn't know what he was. She doubted he knew what she was, too. But right then, she just hoped he was going to trust her enough.

"You have to come with me. Right now."

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"Then unfortunately I'm going to have to drive us to an isolated road and shoot their tires out."

They don't have any other choice. They're got to lose these assassins and he doesn't have the time to put together a spell that would do it. "This car is bullet resistant, not proof. Any high powered rifle would go straight through."

Lydia sighed softly and nodded, stopping herself from rubbing her hands against her face and once more, from glancing at the car that she knew was still following them. This was better than getting someone else hurt.

"Okay," she agreed quietly. "I don't know what kind of guns they use, so I couldn't tell you either way. But whatever you think will be the safest thing to do, as a cop."

"The safest thing to do would be to call in backup but you said that would get people killed."

Mike turned the car down one of the roads that will lead out of town, towards the preserve and the wooded areas. The other car won't be able to hide out there but neither will them. It was a risk.

"You let me know if you feel anything dangerous, okay?"

"It might. I just don't want anyone else getting hurt," she said without really realizing what she was saying.

She took a deep breath, trying to get herself to focus. And then she reached in her purse and pulled out the list she'd printed out from it. Lydia looked down at the paper and flicked at it to make noise. And then she closed her eyes, and listened.

Or tried to. It wasn't clear. "I don't know, I can't tell." She was trying not to get frustrated, but it was hard considering their situation and her lack of knowledge to really be able to help.

"Hey, take a deep breath," he said gently, glancing away from the road for a second. "Don't force it, just keep aware of what's going on."

The farther they moved away from the town the closer the second car followed them which was fine with Mike. It would make the shot easier since he would have to use his handgun.

"It's always easier when you let the power come to you."

Her chest tightened with frustration but she did take a deep breath. She knew she could do it, deep down, she knew. But she didn't know how.

"If I wait for it to come to me, it might be too late," she told him, sighing and shaking her head, trying to pull herself together.

"They're getting closer." She didn't need to look in the mirror to be able to tell the headlights were stronger.

He took a hand off the wheel to squeeze her shoulder. "Take a deep breath and calm down."

He didn't want to deal with her panicking and screaming while they're driving. It would be incredible distracting. He let go of her shoulder, pulled his gun from the holster and rolled down his window.

"I'm going to shoot their tires and then we're going to make a quick turn and head back to town. You need to duck down so they can't shoot through your window, okay?"

Lydia looked over at him, surprised and, despite herself, took another deep breath, then nodded. Yep, she was definitely nervous about this whole shoot out thing, but maybe not necessarily banshee-nervous.

And she felt like she had to share that information with him. If nothing else, to reassure him.

"We won't get hurt in this," she said, sliding down on her seat, ready to duck completely when he turned the car around. She just hoped her feeling was right because she didn't want to think about what was going to happen if the pack did lose someone else. Even if it was her.

"That's good to know."

Mike took a deep breath then slammed on the breaks and turned the car to face the pursuing car. It wasn't a move the attackers expected. They were unable to respond quickly.

He was still moving. He rolled the window down, held his handgun out, his arm steady and shot three bullets into the front tires of the car. Then he floored it out of there, tires spinning for a moment before they rocketed off back the way they came.

After he turned the car around, Lydia remained in her position for a moment longer. And when she felt she was safe, she sat up and looked over her shoulder, just in time to see a man coming out of it and lifting his gun -- a smaller one, she couldn't tell what kind it was in the darkness.

And then he shot at them and the bullet bounced off the back of the car, making a deafening noise. To Lydia, anyway. She closed her eyes and listened for a moment, this time, taking a deep breath on her own.

And then she glanced over at him, eyes wide. "We're safe. For now, at least."

He winced at the bounce but luckily, whatever bullet it was didn't go through the patrol car's toughened exterior. Mike licked his lips and glanced over at her as he drove full speed away from the road.

"Great, good." He didn't fully trust her banshee instincts after she admitted to her lack of experience but it was still slightly reassuring. "Where do we go from here? Do you have someplace safe?"

He could drive like hell back to the station but then what? He couldn't live there until this issue was solved. There had to be somewhere they could go.

Lydia started to shake her head. And then she paused as an idea hit her. "We shouldn't go to either one of our houses, they probably have our addresses anyway but it'd be an obvious location."

She turned on her seat a little toward him and took a deep breath. "We can go to the lake house." She took a look around for a second, trying to locate herself then nodded as she sat up.

"Take the next left."

"The lake house?" He did as ordered and took a left. He had no idea where they were heading though and it made him slightly uneasy.

"Call your friends and tell them where we're going. Someone needs to know in case those hit men find our trail again." He slowed the car to blend in. At the moment standing out was the last thing he wanted.

He needed to look like any other deputy patrolling Beacon Hills.

"My family's lake house. It's about thirty minutes away," she told him, reaching for her phone inside her purse.

"I'll text them," she said, glancing at him sideways. She didn't know what the others were up to and she didn't want them asking too many questions. She didn't want them following her when she was with -- as far as she knew -- the next target.

"Take I-80 West, it's right off the road."

He was going to have to call the Sheriff about this. Whatever his boss knew he needed to know and the Sheriff would probably want to know about assassins and maybe needing some time off to deal with this.

"Okay. Don't worry, no one is following us." The road behind them was clear. They've escaped their pursuers for now.

"Is the house supplied or do we need to stop for food and other necessities?"

As promised, she wrote a simple text telling both Scott and Stiles that she was okay, that she was safe, but that they needed to be careful because the assassins were looking for people. She knew she was about to get inundated with questions and possibly a few calls, so she added that she couldn't talk now, and would explain later. Which she planned on doing once they were settled at the house.

"I think we have enough for the night. My dad was just down here a couple of weekends ago and he bought non-perishables to stock up on," she told him, glancing over her shoulder to double check. Just in case.

"Okay, then we'll go shopping for better food." Mike settled in for a long ride to the lake house.

"I'll call my mother and grandmother in the morning as well and see if they have any advice. They're witches too and know a lot more than I do when it comes to things like this," he explained, hoping to reassure her.

He didn't like the idea of her being afraid of what was out there.

Lydia could tell he was trying to be reassuring. She didn't know if he was just naturally like this, or if it came with being a cop. The need to make sure everyone else was okay.

"What do you think they might be help with? Spells of some kind?" She's sincerely curious. But also, craving for a distraction.

"Probably some spells. Maybe a glamor to hide us. They might also have information. My family's very old and well known in the supernatural community."

He wanted her to feel safe. She shouldn't be afraid. She shouldn't have assassins after her in the first place. The world was profoundly unfair to the supernatural sometimes.

"The very least I can do when we reach your house is put some wards down to protect the house."

"Okay," she agreed, smiling softly at him. She did feel better that they were away from the assassins. That she had gotten to him on time for a change, and that for the time being, she wasn't getting that unsettling feeling of upcoming death.

"I don't know how much help a banshee would be when it comes to witchcraft, but I'll do anything I can to help with protection." He didn't know her and considering everyone knew her 'public image', she was fairly sure she was going to need to prove herself before he knew she was capable of something. And she knew she was plenty capable of most thing. Except when it came to the supernatural. And singing.

He settled in for a long drive, making himself comfortable in the seat and able to glance over at her when he felt like it. "I can also ask them if they know another banshee you could talk to about your powers."

He had never heard his mother and his grandma talk about banshees like she knew any but it was always worth asking. "If you want to know that is."

She was planning on asking him about that eventually in this conversation, but it did make it easier to have him offer it to her. Because while Lydia had no problem with asking for things that would benefit her, the normal rules didn't apply to the supernatural.

"I do. I want to get better, I just don't really know where to start. It didn't exactly come with a manual," she added, smirking softly but this conversation was actually super important to her.

He chuckled softly under his breath. "I don't know much about it easier. I've never met one until today."

Admittedly he has no reason to go looking. He didn't know she was a banshee around. He would like to find out more. He could add it to the family book if she agreed.

"I guess we'll find out when you call them," she said, deciding to keep her expectations low because he really didn't sound too certain about it.

But from her experience with families who had generations of supernatural creatures like the Hales, they seemed to be pretty knowledgeable. She hoped it was the case with his, too.

"I guess so."

He was quiet the rest of the ride, unsure what else to say to her. He was driving around with a teenage girl in his car. If he wasn't a deputy, someone might call the police on him.

When they reach the lake house he parked close to the front door. "Stay here. Let me clear the house first and make sure they didn't get ahead of us somehow."

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