Chapter Text
The fighting ensued long before the assassin arrived. Furniture was strewn across the floor, papers flying everywhere. The once impeccable loft now littered with empty gun shells. He had already killed a few of them but they just kept on coming. He was growing tired of the constant battle. His strength had not fully returned yet, but it would only be a matter of time if everything went according to plan. He just needed to get through tonight.
He knew he was smart and obviously good looking, that's probably why they were all attracted to him. Everywhere he went, there was someone always waiting –in every corner, every turn. But he knew he was only kidding himself. The hard truth was it wasn't his pleasing personality or his incredible physique that attracted these questionable people in his life. It was the blasted dead pool –born out of his money, 117 million to be exact.
He was in the middle of slashing the throat of another masked assailant when he smelled it. Multiple shots were fired across the room and the men standing before him now littered across the floor. He turned around ready to take on the newcomer, but what he saw stopped him dead on his tracks.
He couldn't believe his eyes, although his other senses caught the familiar scent the moment the gunman made an appearance. Of all the scenarios that he could possibly think of, this certainly didn't cross his mind. This was quite the game changer however, one that he could somehow work on his advantage, especially if it was to determined whether the new addition would be friend or foe.
"Y/N?" He said tone resolute with claws still unsheathed, ready to pounce at the moment's notice.
"Hello Peter. Miss me?"
***
You slammed the front door shut and kicked off your shoes. It had been a long day at the bakery. Orders had been coming in all day and one of the customers, a young very enthusiastic bride, had gotten on your nerves with the constant mind changing chatter.
You tossed your keys on the bowl and walked towards the kitchen. Halfway through, you paused. Something was different. Call it instinct or paranoia, you took out your 9mm and carefully made your way, scanning the surroundings just in case. One of the windows was open with curtains flying. You also noticed something on the table and you inched closer. It was a cassette tape with the words "Play Me" written on it. You smiled.
Holstering back the gun, you picked up the tape examining it and closed the window. Instead of going to the kitchen, you headed to one of the closets and grabbed an old player. Your friends loved to laugh at the idea of you collecting what they call junk, but you shrugged them off. You have to admit you were a little bit old fashioned, but so were your clients –your real clients.
You sat down on the sofa, fed the tape in the player and waited.
"Eventually settling in a small town in Northern California, this family used their wealth to…"
You couldn't help but roll your eyes at the over dramatic situation and started to lose interest halfway through the tape. If it involved the supernatural, you weren't interested.
"The tradition passed out through generations, and involved the use of a sacred object called a Triskelion. Without control...violence...extreme violence...is inevitable."
That definitely caught your attention. You knew exactly which family the voice was talking about. You knew them all too well. Standing up, you grabbed your laptop from one of the locked drawers. You just can't be too careful these days.
A year ago, rumors spread about an alpha looking for a pack in Beacon Hills. If this was any other werewolf, you couldn't care less –not wanting to dabble in that kind of business anymore, but that didn't stop you from keeping tabs on them. Enemies rained down practically everywhere they went, which wasn't really a surprise. You still couldn't help but wonder what kind of trouble these guys got themselves into now.
You entered one of the cipher keys per the tape's instructions and you didn't know whether to be amused or baffled. They definitely upped their ante this time. What you were looking at was a hit list of supernatural creatures with their names written on it.
Your phone rang, yanking you out of your thoughts. There was only one person who knew about your past and as expected, he was the one calling.
"We have a problem."
"I know." You replied, scrolling down the rest of the list keeping your eyes peeled for other familiar names.
"What are you going to do about it?" The voice on the other line asked.
For years, you had been reluctant about the idea of going back, but this might be the catalyst you needed. You couldn't ignore it this time. Maybe it was the longing or something else entirely, but you carefully chose your words next. "I guess it's time to reunite the family –at least what's left of it."