Part 20

                                    

                                          
"It's called a Kanima," Katrina said, her gaze fixed on the computer screen where Scott and Stiles were studying the bestiary. Stiles looked at me in surprise. "You can read Latin?" he asked, and I nodded, my attention shifting to the page on Kanimas. "What else does it say?" Scott inquired, eager to gather any information that could help us.
"Like the Wolf, its power is greatest at the moon's peak. The Kanima is a social creature,  so while the Wolf seeks a pack, the Kanima seeks a master," I informed them, sharing the knowledge I had gained. Derek looked at me, his expression serious. "So you're saying someone's controlling the Kanima?" he asked, seeking confirmation.
I continued reading from the screen, delving into the legends and stories surrounding the Kanima. "Here, there's a legend about it, a South American priest who took control of a Kanima and used it to rid his village of murderers. The more the priest and master influenced the Kanima, the stronger their bond became. Eventually, the Kanima started killing whomever its master desired, regardless of whether or not the victim had taken a life."
I explained the nature of the Kanima as I read from the screen. "The Kanima is essentially a Werewolf whose transformation has gone wrong. It's the result of some personal trauma in the Kanima's past, something that triggered the mutation and caused it to take on a more reptilian form. Unlike a Werewolf, who seeks out a pack for strength and support, the Kanima is inherently subservient, seeking out a master to control its actions. Someone is controlling this creature, someone who wanted these kids dead." I informed them.
As I finished relaying the information, I glanced at Scott and Stiles. "Don't you two have a lacrosse game to get to?" I asked, reminding them of their other responsibilities. We had a lot to figure out, but for now, they needed to keep up appearances and maintain some sense of normalcy.
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The rain poured heavily outside as Lydia's car broke down and Lydia had left to get help , leaving us stranded on the side of the road. The storm had intensified, adding to the already tense atmosphere between Allison and me. The silence in the car was palpable, and Allison grew frustrated, unable to bear the awkwardness any longer. "Thank you for telling me about what you and the others found out last night," Allison finally spoke up, breaking the silence. Her voice held a touch of irritation, and I chose to stay quiet, not wanting to further aggravate her.
"Kat," she called out, using my nickname in desperation creeping into her tone. When I remained silent, she sighed in frustration. "Okay, fine. I'm sorry for what I said in the school hall and at home . Happy?" she asked, her words laced with frustration.
I decided to pull over and turn off the car engine. Confusion filled Allison's eyes as she questioned my actions. I turned fully towards her, meeting her gaze. "You know, I don't remember what you said. Care to refresh my memory?" I asked, a hint of sarcasm in my voice.
"You know what? No. I'm not playing this game where I have to tell you exactly what you want to hear to make you feel better," Allison replied, her words dripping with exasperation. "I was just trying to make things better between us, for me," she added.
"For you?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow in disbelief. "Yeah, I figured if things were good between us, then I could convince you to apologize," Allison confessed honestly.
"You might find this difficult to understand, Allie, but it's actually the person who throws the punch that apologizes, not the one with the black eyes," I explained, my voice tinged with bitterness. "Oh, come on, you know you had it coming," Allison retorted, scoffing at my comment. "Uh-huh, right, because I hurt you," I said, my tone laced with skepticism.
"Yes, obviously. First, you ruined Mom's night, and then you abruptly pushed me away. And what you said to me that night was down right mean and horrible and then you punched dad ," Allison explained, her voice tinged with hurt.
"I don't really remember that night," I told her, a hint of regret seeping into my words.
"You know what, everyone uses that as an excuse, but I don't buy it. Drinking doesn't give you a free pass to be an ass," Allison stated bluntly.