Nothing Personal

The Next Day:

Usually on the weekends, Tabitha's schedule consisted of tennis and yard work. Usually two things don't take up a whole day for an average person but most people don't live on a ranch like Tabitha did. With 100 acres to cover, Tabitha had to quickly throw tennis practice aside as she had missed her morning slot by an hour. Strict on the Reed schedule, she ignored her disappointment –toughen it up, was her father's daily philosophy –and skipped to her next planned outfit, a lazy blue plaid button up shirt, rolling the cuffs to her elbows, over comfortable but durable faded jeans, tucked neatly under expensive black floral carved boots. As the sun rose over the orange hazed morning sky, she lifted up her wide brimmed hat and placed it over her head with ease, right after tying her hair into a short pony tail that tickled her back as she walked swiftly to the barn down the dirt road. She was passed by her brother –Trent –driving the older Ford 4x4 model, carrying a full load of fresh hay for the livestock. She waved at him but he didn't seem to notice as he sped on by, turning sharply towards the house.

She slipped on a sleek pair of aviators over her ivy eyes as she lifted her head higher, catching the sun's intense glare but also the bright red face of the barn, doors ajar as Tom guided his horse outside, ready to mount the dark solid colored thoroughbred. Tom waved to her briefly before kicking his horse in gear, trotting quickly. She reached the doors quickly and made a slick entrance. Some horses paced nervously around her, not used to her change and fearing her internal predator, except for her favorite, a fearless and sassy chestnut paint who stared her in directly in the eyes. The horse neighed cheerfully as she approached. She smiled brightly at her horse.

"Hey Callie," she cooed, reached through the bars to stroke the horse's face. Calypso or 'Callie' as she was fondly nicknamed by Tabitha, neighed softly while extending her face forward so Tabitha would have a better angle. Tabitha laughed. Other than having bonded with Callie over a seven year period and sharing similar personality traits, Tabitha adored her horse because even after her change, Callie still accepted her and one of the few horses that still allowed Tabitha to touch her. "Come on, we got a long day ahead of us," she murmured as she unlocked the stall but kept it closed for a moment as she went into another stall, a much bigger one, stocked with different pairs of equipment. With ease, after years of doing so, she gathered a heavy Trail saddle horizontally, heaving it over the beam outside, then retrieved a matching blue set of closed-ended "romal" rawhide reigns, looping the quirt so it wouldn't swing to bruise her already battered legs, and then made a third trip to snatch a bright red and black blanket, her favorite color combination. She then returned to the stall to pull out the patient American paint who nudged Tabitha's shoulders affectionately. Tabitha reciprocated the motion and ran her hands through the horse's pure white main.

The 15 hand tall paint nodded its head nonchalantly, never minding his owner –despite her new… instincts so-to-speak, as she snapped the straps of light brown leather –the shade almost matching Callie's bright brown patches over the clean white coat of fur –onto its torso, adjusted the deep seated saddle securely before guiding the strong mare out of her stall and outside of the freshly painted, solid red, two story barn where she abruptly stop to mount her. Pulling up with her calf and upper arm strength, she fell uncomfortable on the thick padding, leaning back comfortably against the high cattle, holding the reigns confidently in her hands. With two small kicks from her the horse abided its master faithfully as it trotted down the familiar route towards the green pasture where the cows grazed carelessly, mooing loudly over the early morning air. She smiled at the serene scene.

Suddenly the clicks of the hooves approaching fast behind her caught her attention as she saw her father run on his intimidating 16 hand black East Bulgarian horse, a breed known for its Diplodocus neck, wide set of shoulders, full chest, and sturdy, muscular legs that intended to support the giant beast. The horse raced up to them and abruptly stopped next to Tabitha and Callie. Her hardened face greeted her father's serious, equal one, as sweat began to drip down the tips of his fading hair onto his dark before a flimsy grin broke out on his worn face. She offered a similar one back.

"Ah. ¿Vas a decirme acerca de su novio secreto un poco más?" (Are you going to tell me about your secret boyfriend some more?) Her father teased as they started to walk again. She smirked.

"No, papa, I won't," she taunted back, eyeing him suspiciously with a grin. "He is none of your business."

"¡Claro que es!"(Of course he is!) Richard shot back, raising his hands in the air. She shook her head and let out a loud laugh. "¡Él está ve mi hija!" (He is seeing my daughter!) He continued to rant.

"Mi novio es no importante.Especialmente a ti. Más mi relación no es grave."(My boyfriend isn't important, especially to you. Plus my relationship isn't serious.) She decided to indulge her father by using his native tongue. His dark eyes sparkled with pride. Richard's darkest concern about his family was they'd lose their ties to their culture within American borders, lose touch with their proud Spanish heritage. That's why he started with them young, rarely speaking English, and taking them on constant trips to their relatives for extended periods. Tom and Todd were very fluent, as was Tabitha who was a confessed daddy's girl. It was Tyler and Trent who disappointed him when they reluctantly spoke Spanish, often making grammatical errors in their speech.

"¡No serio' el culo!" (Not serious my ass,) Richard retorted, rolling his eyes. "Si es a escondidas tarde en la noche para él, su relación es seria. No me mientas." (If you are sneaking out late at night for him, your relationship is serious. Don't lie to me.)

Tabitha rolled her eyes and grinned. "¡No te preocupes papa!" (Don't worry dad!)

"No me digas que 'no te preocupes'. Tú eres mi única hija. Necesito saber que está a salvo." (Don't tell me to not to worry. You are my only daughter. I need to know you are safe.)

"Estoy a salvo. Él no puede hacerme daño. Yo no lo deja." (I am safe.He can't hurt me. I won't let him.) Tabitha assured her father, patting her holster attached to the horn of the saddle. He nodded approvingly at his little girl.

"¿Recuerdas lo que te enseñé?" (You remember what I taught you?)

"Sí papa. ¡Yo sé cómo disparar!" (Yes dad. I know how to shoot!)

"Bueno. No dude en apretar el gatillo. Después de que puede manejar el resto" (Good. Don't hesitate to pull the trigger. After, I can handle the rest.)

"Lo sé. Lo sé. Gracias." (I know, I know. Thanks.)

"Estoy aquí para ti. No lo dudo. Es el trabajo de un padre para proteger a su familia, en especial a su hija. Estoy mirando hacia fuera para tú. Lo mismo va para sus hermanos" (I'm here for you.Don't doubt that. It's a father's job to protect his family, especially his daughter. I'm just looking out for you. Same goes for your brothers.)

Tabitha felt her cheeks heat up as she experienced another close and intimate moment with her a father, a rarity found within the stone-hearted General. She covered her blush by looking in the other direction, avoiding his inquisitive brooding eyes. She glanced back at him for a second, flashing an awkward smile before proceeding forward, pulling on the reins lightly.

"Mia," Richard asserted, using his special name for his only daughter. Tabitha grew accustomed to him calling her by her middle name, just like the rest of the family from his side, as he made his detest for her first name very well known. If it was his choice, he would've named her Marcia –after her grandmother who passed before she was even born –but Tori demanded that Tabitha was a better name. (Somehow Tori won that argument and wrote 'Tabitha' before 'Marcia' on birth certificate, much to Richard's dismay.) Just to spite Tori, Tabitha would like to think, Richard convinced everyone on his side of the family to call Tabitha by her middle name –Marcia –and since then, everyone made nicknames off of that name, Mia, Marcy or Marcie (depending on which brother you asked), hell, even Me-Me (copyrighted to her little cousins) etc. Richard specifically stuck to Mia. Tabitha didn't have trouble with it.

Her brothers had a habit of calling her Marcy (or Marcie), meaning warlike, while Mia differed slightly in meaning, specifically meaning 'Mine.' It was an affectionate term that Tabitha welcomed.

"Dad," a muffled voice interrupted Richard's hard stare. His reached down to pick up his walkie-talkie. "There is someone here to see you and Marcie."

"¿Que?"

"Un tipo," (some guy) Trent's miserable Spanish scratched through. Marcie rolled her eyes at first until she realized this person knew her, too. Her nerves spiked as paranoia itched at the back of her head. Were the police here or a detective? Were they asking questions? Did she leave evidence at the crime scene? She didn't realize the response system was this fast! She gulped painfully but Richard didn't notice.

"¿Un tipo? ¿Donde de…?"(Some guy… where from?) Richard demanded over speaker. Tabitha watched him carefully, her anxiety rising.

"Desde la Universidad," (from the University,) Trent managed.

"¿Cuál es?" (Which one)

After a long, excruciating moment later, Trent answered. "Berkley."

"Berkley University," Richard mused. "Vamos a ver," (Let's go see,) Richard directed at Tabitha who sighed in huge relief. So it wasn't the police, she realized, exhaling deeply. Her tight eyebrows rebounded back over her eyes, not scrunched in a stressful manor. Richard returned his attention to the walkie-talkie in his grip and lifted it to his lips. "Hijo, quiero que tú vas aquí y ver el Ganado para nos, por favor. Nos reuniremos el tipo. ¿Donde es?" (Son, I want you to come here and watch the livestock for us, please. We will meet the guy. Where is he?)

"Delante de la casa," (In front of the house,) Trent replied. A quick chirp ended the conversation and Richard returned the device back into the pouch near his stirrups. With a curt nod, he redirected his horse in the opposite direction and galloped loudly towards the estate with Tabitha at his heels.

Chris Argent expected more from ranch as he had pulled up on the dirt road. Pebbles of rocks flew from his tires of his Tahoe –one he had borrowed from the rental after he left it there to get fixed. Allison fidgeted nervously in the back seat as Victoria glanced at her husband attentively. The redhead admired the vast acres of green and grazing creatures as they passed the uncultivated land. She never saw this side of California yet and she was kind of inspired by it. Allison was equally impressed by the property but anxiety was building up as she shook in her seat. This was rural land and anything could happen. She knew trouble was brewing up

Chris eyed the dry landscape critically as he tried to spot any people but only found horses that occasionally lifted their heads at the car before returning to the pasture. He finally stopped when a single story Mexican colonel house that stretched across the fence line. The sun beat against the burgundy thick shingled roof. Obviously the house as some deep southern influences as a cross adorned the front of the house as well as a sun dial posted above the thick cherry wood double door. He spotted a young man pulling a gray horse across the pavement towards the posture but abruptly stopped as he took in the new visitor.

"Stay here," Chris ordered the woman as he parked the car in the middle of the pavement and stepped out of the vehicle. The boy nodded towards him as Chris confronted him. The horse he was holding by a long pair of reins neighed nervously, nodding its large head furiously and tried to back up but the boy pulled it back. "Hello," he began, "do you live here?"

The boy's dark chocolate looked at him hesitantly. Chris began to doubt he spoke English as he took in the boy's dark features such as his sleek jet black hair cut in an effortless style, barely bordering his ears, with a darker beige complexion. He was young, too, barely fifteen by the looks of it. He dressed casually in an unbuttoned blue flannel shirt and dark jeans held high with a light leather belt. He noticed a holster attached to the belt with a metal item slung inside as the sun's bright ray reflected off of it. The boy nodded slowly. "Yes, I live here, with the rest of my family. Who are you?" There was a harsh tone under his breath as he spoke to Chris slowly.

"I'm Chris. I'm a recruiter for University of California: Berkley. I was wondering if you had a sister, Tabitha Reed, I could talk to?" Chris lied.

"Oh Tabitha, yeah sure, she's here…" The boy understood and his voice dropped to a lighter tone, not so weary of the stranger. The boy pulled out a walkie-talkie from his belt and clicked the side button to initiate a conversation. "Dad, there is someone here to see you and Marcie."

Marcie? Chris thought. Isn't her name Tabitha?

The conversation shifted the Spanish, confusing Chris as well as irritating him since he could not understand what they were talking about. "Hijo, quiero que tú vas aquí y ver el Ganado para nos, por favor. Nos reuniremos el tipo. ¿Donde es?" A gruff voice spoke from the other location. Chris stood there awkwardly and nervously looked back at the rest of his family who peered out of the car curiously.

"Delante de la casa," the boy replied and cut off the conversation. The boy returned his gaze to the stranger. "My dad will be on his way in any second with my sister. I'm Trenton by the way. It was nice to meet you Chris." Trenton extended his hand and Chris shook it graciously. He wondered if Trent was a werewolf, too.

"Is that a gun?" Chris pointed the holster as the question itched at his mind.

Trenton nodded and pulled it out, startling Chris who took an offensive and almost pulled out his own pistol but stopped abruptly, his fingers levitating above his 9 mm Glock, realizing the boy didn't intend to point it at him, holding the gun flat on his connected palms extended towards Chris. "It used to be my dad's. He finally gave it to me last month. He said I was man enough to finally handle it. It's a…"

"A 45 Smith & Wesson Semiautomatic," Chris thought out loud, recognizing the model as one of the more expensive ones when he recalled gun searching. He admired the craftsmanship and the intricate copper design of the handle and how the feel of the gun was magnificent. He nodded admiringly before Trenton slide the pistol back into his holster. Chris also noticed a much longer holster attached to the horse's saddle with a familiar butt of a gun sticking out, reading to be weld at a moment's notice. He gulped nervously. Allison wasn't exaggerating when she reported to him that the Reeds' were readily prepared with firearms, even the young ones. "It's a powerful gun you got there. Are you sure you can handle it?"

Trenton nodded as his mounted his horse. "Of course I can," the young boy insisted. "I have been shooting guns since I was seven." He patted his horse's shoulder as he prepared her to depart. "This pistol doesn't even compare to this Winchester," he touched the butt of the rifle. Chris examined the rich cherry wood grain before averting his eyes towards the horizon as he heard the clicks of hooves beat against the ground. "I'll see you later. Don't let dad intimidate you too much. He's just really protective of Marcie."

"Marcie?"

"Oh, that's what we call Tabitha. Only family really calls her that."

"Got it," Chris complied as he watched Trent gallop off. Why Marcie? He thought curiously. In his place, two figures emerged from the late sunrise. The loud hooves clattered against the pavement as they rushed onto the scene.

The horses slowed down to halt as two different figures un-mounted the large animals. He could easily identify them behind his dark lenses as a smaller female and a burly male stalking towards him. As they came forward, he assessed them.

The father was certainly a match, standing at least 6 or so feet with a wide set of shoulders and muscular arms that could crush Chris if they wanted. He could easily tell that this man worked hard for all of his life. His attire consisted of stereotypical ranch work related clothing, pointed black leather shoes, simple dark jeans, large belt with an holster attached, simple beige plaid shirt, and a wide brimmed hat that covered his mop of black hair.

His daughter was smaller but dressed in a similar fashion, wearing a light blue shirt of the same pattern and lighter jeans along with higher boots. Her light hair was tied into a short pony tail capped by a smaller brimmed waved hat, circled by a wide white ribbon. Her eyes were harsh under the shade of the hat, glaring directly at the man she had met the night before, the one who had killed her best friend's family and the one who was now threatening her own with his presence alone. It was a stupid decision on his part to intrude on her territory and dare confront her when she could kill him in an instant. She would if it wasn't for her father beside her. She looked ready to kill but quickly fixed her face to mimic one of mild distaste before he father peered down at her. He didn't catch her shift but Chris did.

"Hello," the father called out. He tipped his hat in a southern fashion as he eyed the man. Richard extended his hand out to Chris is a polite manor as Tabitha stayed a few yards away next to Callie, stroking the mare's long white mane affectionately, obviously keeping her distance. "I'm Richard. As you probably already know, this is my daughter, Tabitha." Richard motioned with a wave towards Tabitha who scowled. Richard didn't see as he was staring in the opposite direction at Chris.

Chris was impressed by the man's diction, surprised he spoke fluent English as he did Spanish. He wondered what he did for a living other than ranch that would require him to speak two languages.

"I'm Chris Argent. I'm here to talk to your daughter about University of California, Berkley. So sir, what do you do as a living?"

"I'm a General."

Chris's eyes widened for a second in surprise, not expecting that this man was involved in the military and realized that was probably the reason for the man's wide build and intimidating stance. This man was probably bound by a moral code but at the same time, highly experienced with guns and death that it startled Chris.

"I was in the army, too. I was a cadet at Manchester."

"And now you recruit for UC Berkley. Hmm," Richard mused condescendingly. "I worked my way up the chain. I started as a cadet as soon as I hit seventeen and after I was deployed to Nam, I raised to a Sergeant pretty damn quickly. Years of hard work and dedication allowed me to elevate to General." Richard boasted as his daughter rolled her eyes. Sometimes she grew sick of him gloating about his title.

It did something on Chris though and he stepped back to retain a safe distance. "Congratulations General…I was wondering if Tabitha and I could talk alone, just her and me."

Richard was hesitant but Tabitha overheard and smiled menacingly as she realized this was her chance. She jumped into the conversation quickly with fake enthusiasm on her face. Chris didn't mistake her smile as a genuine one and shook in his shoes as he realized he didn't have the element of surprise. She was at an advantage and she knew it. He nervously looked back at his family who looked at Tabitha curiously.

"It's fine dad. Go back to work. I'll meet you there soon. It's going to be a quick chat," she shot Chris a sarcastic smile and he gulped.

"I'm not sure…" Richard hesitated, eyeing the man suspiciously. He wasn't sure if Chris was who he said he was but Tabitha smacked his arm lightly, snapping him out of it.

"Dad," Tabitha warned. "It'll be fine. Plus," she whispered to her father but loud enough for Chris to get some details, "we both know I can take his scrawny ass if I wanted to. You taught me enough to do that."

"I know," Richard finally gave in. He adjusted his hat and walked towards his horse. "Don't hesitate, sweetheart," he warned her before climbing onto the saddle and guiding his horse by the reins to rejoin with his youngest son out by the livestock. Don't hesitate what? Killing me? Chris thought, feeling the outline of his gun at his side. He wasn't prepared to shoot Tabitha today but if she was going to attack him, he was most certainly going to defend himself!

"So Mr. Argent, what are you really here for?" She went straight to business. She was going to hear him out first before she would pull out her revolver on him, giving him enough of a threat that he would understand the severity of his consequences for crossing the line –literally, passing the Reed estate boundary line that was trekked with a tall unsmoothed fence, connected by barbed wire. "Make it quick. Once he's gone, there is nothing stopping me from putting a bullet through your head." She hissed, glaring at him with eyes that mimicked a rattle snake, cold and calculating.

She definitely acted like an Alpha, cocky and assertive. He was surprised to see her in the form of a young girl but nonetheless took her seriously. She had some kind of gun strapped in his holster and of course her natural skills, both from her werewolf genetics and another from her assassin-like skills, the ones Allison reported to him from Scott after witnessing Derek's quick downfall at the hands of this young woman. He assumed her father had taught her those skills. He reminded himself not to act rashly around her.

"Just a few questions…" Chris began. He looked curiously around the ranch for anymore witnesses before fingering towards Allison and his wife to come out. He felt safer in numbers and wanted to introduce Allison to his interrogation techniques. Tabitha glanced at the direction he was flicking at and sneered as she spotted a familiar face exit the car, a brand new car, she acknowledge. "You were in the woods last night. I know that. I had someone of your kind place you at the scene of my truck where I found it totaled. Do you have any explanations for that? What were your reasoning's? You and I have never met before except for last night. What did I do that caused you to go after my car?" He first demanded as Allison hid behind his lanky figure. Tabitha eyed her angrily underneath the low brim of her woven hat.

"Just leaving behind a message to stay clear of my territory," Tabitha coolly retorted, a glint in her eyes. "I don't take too kindly to hunters trespassing on my property."

Chris's face contorted into a mask of anger and frustration. "It wasn't anywhere near your land!"

"But it was pretty damn close," Tabitha snarled, starting Allison who clutched her father's arm. Tabitha made a bold move forward, causing Chris to pull out his gun but she foresaw the action and within an instant flung her arm forward, grabbing his arm while tossing the Glock from his grasp, throwing it behind her in the dust. Callie neighed loudly, startled by the sudden object.

Chris was rendered speechless as he fumbled for another defense but found nothing. Tabitha grinned victoriously. "My dad taught me every book in the trick. I should've told you that, I suppose, but then again, what kind of girl expects a man to pull a gun on her? Tsk, tsk Mr. Argent, shame on you. I guarantee you if you tried that on my father, you'd be on the ground bleeding from a head wound. As for me, well, I'm a little more merciful. Now I'm going to make this clear so hopefully you can understand it. I'll let that slide –literally," she motioned with a nod to the limp Glock resting by Callie's hooves. "–but the second attempt you make to take aim at me will be your last."

Chris didn't doubt her words as he protectively pushed Allison further behind him. He was shaken but determined to get answers. Victoria came up behind him, also possessing a hidden gun under her thin cardigan but didn't make an advance to retrieve it, not yet at least. She was still stunned by the girl's reflexes and also very offended that she didn't have the upper hand like she was accustomed to. It was this kind of confidence that agitated Tabitha to no end. She grits her teeth together, glaring at the family of pathetic hunters.

"Honey," Victoria spoke venomously, "you don't know you are dealing with."

"Wrong again, puta," Tabitha interrupted the redhead. Victoria's thin brows knitted together in confusion, trying to understand the unfamiliar word, totally unaware Tabitha called her the substitutive term for 'female dog' in her Latin language. "It's you who doesn't know who you're up against. Just because you hide behind a gun doesn't mean you have the upper hand. I'm just as trained as you when it comes to firearms, in personal defense, and military tactics. Trust me, if I wanted to, I could have killed you instantly last night. You were surrounded with no chance of escape, blinded by darkness while we had a clear view. Guns won't give you the upper advantage, especially if you can't see where the hell you're supposed to be shooting at, so you can throw that delusion out the window." She spat the ground at Chris's feet. "People like you sicken me, assuming you know everything and anything and therefore are justified to shoot anything that isn't classified as a human. It's pathetic. Don't worry though. Karma will bite you in the ass sooner or later, much sooner than you expect. Eventually your 'crusades' will come back to haunt you. You piss off the wrong family or the wrong person. They'll come back with fury that no bullet can stop."

Chris was unnerved by her rant and glared at the young girl. "Don't you dare threaten me," he bellowed. He boldly stepped forward to throw her off her balance but she countered quickly, snatching her revolver at an inhumane speed and pressing it against his throat. He froze in his steps as Allison cried out. Victoria immediately came to her husband's side with her one gun pointed at the girl. Tabitha wasn't scared and eyed Victoria menacingly.

"What are you going to do? Shoot me? I've been shot before. Eh, it'll still hurt but I'll live. Nothing like a 45 lodged in your leg to give 'hurts like a bitch' a whole new meaning. I'm not scared," Tabitha honestly said. "And are you really prepared for the repercussions for shooting me on my own land? My dad has many friends in high places. He knows judges who would happily deliver the death penalty to both of you. As for your daughter, well, we also have friends in low places, too, family to be exact, who would without a second thought take care of her for revenge. That's the cartel way, to go after one's family. I'll make sure to tell them to give her the special treatment." She taunted, enjoying the fear and anger evident in their faces. Allison covered her mouth in shock. Tabitha stared directly at the girl. "That's right sweetheart. Without anyone to protect you, you're as vulnerable as a baby. You're pretty, too. I'm sure they'd give you a few rounds until you're numb and useless, then they'd deliver a bullet straight threw the head."

Chris burned with anger, despite the cold metal pressed against his throat. How dare she threaten his daughter in such a way! He almost lost his senses, blind with rage, until his ears registered the click of her vintage rifle, preparing a slot into the barrel. He stiffened as Allison pleaded to Tabitha, begging her to stop. Tabitha was unrelenting and dug the gun deeper into his flesh.

"Now you are going to listen to me," she concluded. "I'm going to put my gun down and you are going to walk away and get into your truck. You will not come anywhere near my house or family again or else I will shoot you on the spot. Be very sure I can get away with it, as quite a few state judges owe my father a favor or two and will acquit me in an instant. If you try to be clever and have someone else or one of your connections come after me, you'll find their mangled body on your front porch, and within 24 hours, your daughter will disappear after I retaliate with a few family connections of my own, understand? You may be stupid enough to risk your own bodily health but I doubt you would think twice about endangering your precious daughter." Tabitha exhaled deeply. "If you try to go over my head and hint to my father about my true identity, by God, you won't have a house to go home to within an hour of doing so. I will know what you are doing. Don't underestimate my intelligence."

By now, Tabitha was seething at the thought of her father knowing. Chris shuddered at the close proximity to such a time bomb. Victoria held Allison back from a wide distance, scared and wide-eyed for her only child as Tabitha's words penetrated deeply into her heart. Allison was shaken to the core as her father was belittled onto his knees at the mercy of a single barrel revolver.

"Do you understand me?"

Chris nodded his head slowly. She lifted the gun to the hair and fired a single shot, startling the trio. Chris stumbled onto his feet and joined his family, pushing them towards the rental car.

"Chris," she called out to him. "You better leave now and never return. My father will come quickly to investigate. Be very sure of my warning. I will make good on all of my promises if you try anything funny."

Chris couldn't get out of there fast enough as he sped out of the driveway, passing a hoard of dogs that chased the truck behind a long fence. When he reached the public road, he sighed in relief. Allison exchanged a silent look at both her parents.

In all truth, she never imagined the ferocity of the girl she had bumped into at the hospital turned into someone so much more dangerous. It scared her to the core and from the looks of her parents, they felt the same. She felt helpless as she never realized she never saw her parents scared or hopeless before until now, all because of a single girl. It was like Tabitha had a power over them.

"I left my gun back there," Chris thought out loud but didn't reconsider returning back to retrieve. No, he had other pistols he would use. He didn't need to use that Glock. The idea occurred to him that maybe he could accuse her of thievery but decided against it. She probably would hide it before the night fell so it would never be found. Second, that would mean returning and he knew she would not take kindly to that. He didn't want to push his luck. He considered himself lucky that Tabitha wasn't rash enough to pull the trigger but he didn't know if it was just for one time. He was sure she was serious about her warning about shooting him one spot if he were to return. Now the situation got sticky as he still didn't know much about her pack and who else was involved. He'd have to find a way around without her without threatening her.

Behind him in backseat he could hear Allison ring up her boyfriend, close to sobs, explaining the situation. He made a decision that maybe he could get Scott to intervene and talk to Tabitha, as a werewolf himself maybe he could play the liaison.

Back home, Tabitha used her own call phone to call Madison after a long rant from her father over via walkie-talkie about the proper use of a gun after she made a quick half-ass excuse about how the gun misfired, almost sniping her leg.

"The audacity of this man astounds me. He comes onto my land, meets my dad and little brother and lies, only to pull a fucking gun on me? I taught him otherwise! I flew that gun out of his hand faster than a rattle snake strikes. You should've seen the look on his face! Without his trusty gun he's pathetic, dropping to his knees, at the mercy of a mere sixteen year old girl."

Madison immediately began shooting off questions. "Did he come after you again?"

"Yes," Tabitha replied, "which of course I replied by pulling my Colt. 45. I am sure to say I know he's going to reconsider ever confronting me again. I also gave him a few extra promises that I know he's going to take seriously. That's all I'm going to elaborate. I don't want this shit coming back to me, Mads. You need to take over. I mean it. I'm not going to spare him if he's going to try to pull something funny on me if it risks my family. I will kill him, with or without your permission."

Madison agreed. She didn't want Tabitha to kill him. No, that'd be too merciful. She wanted him to suffer. She definitely liked how Tabitha threatened his daughter's safety. That ought to cause him a lot anxiety. Good. She would enjoy watching him scramble like a chicken as they closed in on him.

"All right, Tabs," Madison complied. "I'll take over. I'll make sure he won't come by your house again." Madison felt like she was losing control of the situation but at the same time she felt good about the direction of the situation. By now Chris definitely assumed Tabitha was the Alpha and would be too wrapped up with figuring a way to get to her without getting killed, that's when Madison would sneak on in and surprise him for the last time. Though things were passing by fast, she felt like it was suitable. "Do me one favor though, please. I know Chris will be sending the pack to check you out for him, to do his bidding, despite your threat. Can you… entertain them for me? Pose as a distraction?"

"What kind of entertainment?" Tabitha asked suspiciously.

"Send them on a wild goose chase," Madison instructed. "Then meet them in an open field to talk. Feel free to be flexible with whatever story you feed them. They'll be hanging onto every word, as long as you don't mention me."

Tabitha looked over the fence that separated the open field with the dense bush. She looked over the dark bushes, sniffing the air before a familiar smell assaulted her nostrils. "Got it Mads," she smirked, realizing she had an audience. She canceled the call and slid it into her pouch besides her leg hanging off of her saddle.

"Boys," she called out, pulling on the reins on Callie who reared back hastily. Stiles and Scott froze. "You think I'm really that dumb? I can smell you a mile away! Now, come one, let's have a decent conversation."

"I don't trust her," Scott mouthed, recalling her threat from a while ago when she attacked Derek.

"I'm giving you one chance to come out before I pull you out by force. Now come on out, there is no one else around, so this is a splendid time to talk. If not, and you refuse to show yourselves, I'll set the dogs on you. Now it's about 10 miles until you reach the road where I'm assuming you parked, and you still have to cross the river. Try trekking that with 20 hounds on your ass. Trust me they'll tear you apart like they do rabbits. Or I can come after you myself and I'll still catch you, where I'll most likely still a bullet in your back." She sighed deeply. "On the count of three you better come out. One… two…"

"We're coming! We're coming! Hold on!" Stiles shouted, emerging from the distance. He climbed up the steep incline, toppling over the fence before plummeting three feet onto the hard earth. He stumbled up, dusting off stains from his shoulder, followed shortly by Scott who glared wearily at Tabitha who shot him an easy smile.

"Who's Mads?" Scott demanded, recalling her conversation and how suspicious it sounded.

"None of your damn business," Tabitha smartly replied, her southern slang slipping through her speech.

"She's involved! Who the hell is Mads? Was she the one circling Allison?" Scott accused.

"Maybe, maybe not," Tabitha shrugged as she dismounted her horse. Stiles gulped as she came closer to him. He never expected this side of her, as a "cowgirl." He never imagined that she lived this kind of life but connecting her attitude, it seemed fit after all. He actually found this attractive but kept physical attraction aside as he stared hard at her, remembering Madison's accusations the previous night. Tabitha seemed almost unremorseful as she wreaked authority over the pair.

Her horse eyed them carefully, nodding its head furiously. She adjusted her hat as she eyed the two carefully, her fingers tracing the outline of her Colt. Stiles gulped nervously.

"I ain't going to pull it out," she reassured them, catching their wandering eyes towards her holster, "seeing as you two ain't posing a threat. Come on now, let's get you inside. It's hot out and you look exhausted. Does a glass of lemonade sound good?"