Scar lit up at Allison’s offer to go knife shopping. She’d had the same knife since she was a little girl, so she’d never had the chance to shop for anything else. “That’d be awesome! I’ve been thinking of going for something... edgier than a stiletto. Still lithe, but rougher, you know?”
She could hardly believe what she was hearing. They were careful. They were always so careful when they hunted. They never left behind any traces of what they’d done. There were never witnesses, never a trail for any family members to follow. Scarlett was too meticulous to leave behind anything that could put them at anymore risk, and Cora was so protective and efficient, she’d even found ways to keep Scarlett from leaving behind a scent. So how... how had she been tracked down? How had something like this happened?
Furthermore, how had she not known? She told Cora everything. After her job with Lux, she had told Cora about it. She hadn’t told the wolf who she had gone hunting with, but she’d told her everything else. There was nothing about her that her adoptive sister didn’t know. And she’d thought -- honestly thought -- that Cora told her everything, too. Sure, she didn’t know much about her previous foster homes, and there were certain things about the Hale’s that she didn’t know, either. But those were painful memories, and she knew everything else. The two of them had spent many nights, hidden beneath the covers of Cora’s bed, a flashlight between them, exchanging stories of their lives in hushed whispers and muffled giggles. Cora always called and told her about the things that she went through, even after she’d left them. So why hadn’t she told Scar about this? Why was this -- the one thing that mattered the most -- the one thing that she knew nothing about?
Putting her own questions aside, Scarlett reached over, placing a hand over Allison’s own. She wasn’t raised to be a comforter. She was raised to be detached, and to only show emotions like this when she needed to. This display of affection went against what her parents had instilled within her. (Emotions hurt, Scarlett. In this business, the best thing you can do is keep everyone at a distance. Because when they leave, they leave scars that don’t always heal.) But this was hard for Allison. From the sound of it, she had been the one to find Cora that night. Scar couldn’t imagine that. She couldn’t imagine hearing a banshee’s scream, a scream for Cora, and running to find the wolf on the brink of death. It wasn’t something she could even consider. And Allison had lived that. The thought of it was horrible, but that had been Allison’s reality.
Scar turned back to look at her parents. They had schooled their emotions into cold indifference, but she could see that they were angry. Normal people wouldn’t be able to tell. But Scar was a hunter. She had been taught to notice every tick, every sign of unease or deception. Her mother’s hands were clasped in her lap, holding onto each other too tightly. Her father’s jaw was clenched, and his middle finger on his right hand ticked -- the hand he used to shoot. It was always harder to hide emotion when it came to someone you loved. And her parents did love Cora. No matter how hard they tried not to. Her mother, at least, didn’t seem to have been expecting the news. Scar had to wonder how much her mother had known beforehand. Maybe she expected this would involve Cora, but not the news that came with her.
“I hunted with her,” Scarlett confessed. Her parents looked to her, waiting for her to continue. She looked back to Allison. “I always hunted with Cora. It’s tradition for us; no one hunts without a partner. She never hunted anyone if I wasn’t there with her. But... no one came for me. I don’t und...” Then, it hit her. Guilt hit her like a punch to the gut, but she swallowed it. “...Cora usually does the killing. She... she said she didn’t want it to ruin me, or anything. Whoever it was, they... the witches must’ve found some way to track it back to her, but not me. I’m sorry,” she whispered, mostly to Allison. Her parents hadn’t been the ones to find Cora. They hadn’t been the ones to save her life. “And thank you. If you hadn’t gotten there...” She stopped, refusing to even entertain the thought.
“We do thank you for saving Cora,” Cade continued, giving the Argent huntress a tight smile. “And we apologize for any trouble our training has caused your pack. We stopped hunting before we came to Beacon Hills. Whoever these witches were, we never meant to bring them to your home. We try to teach our children the same beliefs: you protect those who cannot protect themselves. But we also hunt those who have hunted others. If the girls were sent to hunt someone, it was under our command, and it was because that someone had harmed others before.”
“We never tell them to kill,” Scar’s mother tacked on, throwing her daughter a look. It was a blank look, but Scar knew the implications behind it. She had messed up. “I wasn’t aware that either of them had ever killed.”
“I’ve killed five,” Scarlett admitted, quietly. (Five, plus the others in Tatum’s pack.) She didn’t feel shame at what she had done. She killed those who threatened the lives of others. But this? What had happened to Cora? This intervention? She had never wanted this. “Cora has killed nine. Or.. more, maybe. If she...” If she killed the witches who had attacked her. Scar didn’t know. She didn’t want to ask.
“Again,” Nina spoke, dragging her eyes away from her daughter and onto the other huntress. “We apologize for any trouble this family has caused you.”
