FicWad

Seeing as Stiles and Scott were too busy staring entranced at Stiles' hands like they held the answers to the universe, it was up to Lydia to ask the pertinent questions. She had caught Deaton's earlier discomfort when questioned how the elves gained knowledge of Stiles.

"How did they know about Stiles in the first place? Especially since Stiles didn't seem to really know about his spark until two minutes ago."

Deaton froze with panic for a split second, but then, resigned, took a fortifying breath and confessed, "They knew about Stiles because of me." Looking at Stiles apologetically, he stated, "It's my fault they're here."

"What?" Stiles' attention was completely focused on the vet. "Is this about that pendant?"

"Talisman. And yes, it most definitely was the catalyst."

"How is that possible? We were just testing to see if my spark was still active. All you got me to do was think happy thoughts at a hunk of costume jewelry. The 'Made in China' sticker was still attached. It's just collecting dust in your office."

"Its current location is more accurately placed in London, England, in the possession of a wealthy clan of vampires known as the Vitus clan."

"What?!" A shocked Jackson sat straight up. "They're insane! They're basically the undead mafia in the UK. What the hell are you doing with them?"

"How do you know about them? You were only in London for a summer." Isaac asked from beside him.

"Within the first week they had…introduced themselves." A faint shudder went through Jackson at the memory. "They are very aware of any supernatural activity within the London sect. There was some sort of perimeter spell that was able to monitor any supernatural entities trespassing into their territory." Looking at Deaton he grew pissed, "Their Sire is completely insane. Like, legitimately, mentally unbalanced. What were you thinking attracting them here?"

After a quick glance at Peter, Deaton explained, "I don't believe they are the ones casting overtures towards Stiles."

"Overtures?" Stiles' voice hit a pitch he'd not hit since he was 5.

Peter looked very amused. "Do you need the birds and the bees conversation, Stiles? Well, in this case, I suppose bees and bees conversation would be more accurate."

Stiles and Scott stared at Peter with the same repulsed look on their faces at the idea of a sex talk (a gay sex talk, at that) from Peter.

"Do you want that banana I ate earlier? Cause it's about to come back up."

"It'd be a good prop for my talk, actually."

Lydia sharply interrupted, "Stiles. Peter. You can have tangent conversations later." Turning to Deaton, she demanded, "Straightforward and to the point – now."

Under the fiery gaze of the banshee, Deaton hurriedly continued.

"Essentially, I sold (or more accurately, traded) the Talisman to the clan 5 days ago at an auction for the supernatural."

Confused silence met him.

"Uh, that might have been too straightforward." Informed Isaac.

"Is this why you were in New York?" Scott asked, having been left to look after the clinic for a few days a week ago.

"You never once mentioned anything about an auction when you had me emote at that piece of plastic." Stiles felt used and kinda betrayed. As weird and aloof as Deaton was, he was still pack.

Sensing his hurt, Deaton rushed to explain, "Auctioning it off wasn't the original plan. As pack emissary, one of my duties is to be aware of the global supernatural climate. More specifically, monitoring any unrest between beings of power in different countries which could potentially impact us. The most accurate means to measure the global dynamic is to attend what is known as The Market, which is held annually."

"I haven't been to The Market in years." Peter's eyes lit up in reminiscence.

Even Derek perked up a bit at the mention of The Market, having been brought back harmless, yet interesting, souvenirs from the times Talia and Peter would attend when he was a child.

"The main event at The Market is the auction. It is a chance to procure items that would be otherwise unobtainable, such as ancient manuscripts or rare ingredients." Deaton explained. "The items bought and sold can provide significant insight to the state of each clan, pack, etc."

"The selection and caliber of items really is fantastic." Peter interjected. "And the diversity is astounding at these type of events. I heard that there was a demon calling himself 'King of Hell' trying to auction off the moon a few years ago at a smaller auction held in the mid-states. I can only imagine the type of items that were being bid on at The Market's auction. Talia and I would just watch and enjoy the show."

"Yes, well, the rules have changed this year. Entrance into The Market is still straightforward as ever - simply proving you're affiliated with the supernatural is all that is required; however, in order to attend the auction held within The Market you or your clan must have an item for bidding. Multiple clan members may gain entrance based on a single clan-provided item. In previous years, both spectators and participants alike were welcome, now you must be a participant. I was unaware of this change and the only item I had on my person at the time was the Talisman Stiles had practiced on."

Turning to Stiles with sincerity, he apologized, "It was never my intent to expose the signature of your spark to the supernatural community. I was unaware at the time how much energy you had poured into it as my senses are quite dull in comparison to the sensitivity common to most supernatural beings."

Looking like he wanted to believe him, yet still skeptical, Stiles asked, "Why would you be carrying around that Talisman in the first place? Wearing a gaudy, purple pendant isn't exactly your form of self-expression."

"We had a particularly hungry Saint Bernard in the clinic the day before."

"Chipper!" Scott interjected. "That guy eats everything…oh."

"Indeed, oh. He had already eaten a latex glove and a pencil before setting his sights on the pendant that I had carelessly left on the counter in the examination room. I put it in my pocket for safekeeping and then promptly forgot about it in the face of preventing Chipper from eating one of the syringes."

Scott got a bit of a goofy smile on his face. "He's got a heart of gold, but the stomach of a trash can."

"And the brain of a bird, apparently." Allison muttered.

"The only other item I had to offer to the auction was my soul."

"Okay, so pendant, obviously." Stiles conceded.

"What did you get for it?" Isaac asked curiously.

"The clan owes us a favour."

Peter, Derek, Allison, and Jackson's eyes all widened and they looked at Stiles in shock. Peter and Derek understood exactly what it meant to have a supernatural clan owe you one. Allison understood because of her training as a hunter and her education covering multiple supernatural etiquettes. Jackson only knew of the brutality of the pack and found it unfathomable that they would place themselves at such a disadvantage as to be indebted.

"What exactly did that pendant do?" Jackson asked incredulously. "Stiles said he 'thought happy thoughts at it', but the Vitus clan isn't one to be indebted for the likes of a useless, hunk of happy plastic."

"As you said yourself, Jackson, the Sire of that clan is insane." Deaton stated, "His insanity is due to the loss of his mate 5 years ago. The death of a mate is enough to drive a vampire feral almost instantly. That he hasn't slaughtered everyone in London is a testimony to his strength. The state of the Sire can impact each member of his clan; if he's strong both mentally and physically, his clan will reflect his strength and if he's weak, it will be reflected in the clan members. His insanity and depression was beginning to hurt the members of his clan, to the point that a few of the newer members had committed suicide. His inner circle were at the auction desperate for a solution. When the Talisman went up on the block, everyone felt the energy. It was like a ripple went through the room. I couldn't feel it myself, but every other being was affected." Deaton's eyes glazed over in memory:

Deaton could admit he was surprised he had been permitted entrance on the merit of Stiles' talisman. It was pure luck that it was still in his pants pocket after its near digestion by Chipper. He had a moment of hesitation in surrendering the item when faced with the excitement on the entrance clerk's face, but he really did need to attend. Grumblings of a power upheaval between New York and Boston's numerous supernatural communities had made its way through the country and he needed more information to ensure Beacon Hills wasn't drawn into the potential fray. The auction would allow him to see the parties involved.

Through some very impressive event planning there were several hundred members of the supernatural community in the centre where the auction was held. Through some equally impressive mojoing, the supernatural community had been able to overtake a 5-star hotel/convention centre in New York without the non-supers noticing.

Rank held no meaning at the auction. The order in which you entered was the order in which you sat. He had arrived earlier than most and was seated in the front third of the audience as approximately 300 people entered after him. The items up for bid were incredible as were the prices being paid. The literal eye of an Egyptian Oracle went for a whopping 10 Million Dollars (nerve still attached), while souls of slaves were being traded for weapons and jewels.

Deaton was a little nervous for his item to appear. Accompanying each item came information on the object itself as well as the creator and/or owner. Each item was projected on a large screen for better viewing. When the Talisman appeared with the description the reaction was shocking.

The auctioneer read the description and then added, "We of all 'people' know that looks can be deceiving and nothing is truer of this next item. Although cleverly disguised as an insignificant bauble, it is a truly impressive piece. Created by a newly ignited spark, this Talisman bestows upon its owner peace, happiness, and mental stability. It doesn't need to be said; however, that the amount of energy itself is what is enticing. If you have the means, the current purpose of the energy could be amended to suit your needs or desires."

Deaton felt his stomach drop. He was unaware of the Talisman's extensive capabilities or that the contained energy could be warped by someone other than Stiles. A severely worrying notion. He had just unwittingly shone a spotlight on himself, Stiles, and the pack. With growing unease he listened to the excited murmuring that ran through the crowd.

"Bidding begins at $500,000 or an item of equivalent value." Upon relinquishing an item to be auctioned, the owner forfeits their right to deny or accept bids. The auctioneer has complete control of the starting bid and the cadence of the biding.

The bidding crowd remained strong until they breached 1.5 million when the number of bidders dwindled to approximately 20. At 5 million there were but 2 bidders: an elven clan that Deaton was unable to identify and the Vitus clan members whose leader was infamously unhinged. Their reasoning behind wanting the pendant was clearly to restore their leader's sanity and save their clan with the aid of the mentally stabilizing energy contained within the pendant.

The bid came to an end when, in a fit of frustration, the bidder for the Vitus clan bid "A favour of any value to be carried out anytime and anywhere at the McCall pack's request."

The auctioneer waited for the elven clan to counter, but they remained silent, unwilling to indebt themselves to such an extent.

"Sold! For a rather dangerous price to #324."

The relief from the vampire clan was almost palpable.

"That concludes this year's auction. The items will be placed in order of bidding around the perimeter of the room, stage left to right. If all owners and bidders would please convene at the appropriate item and complete the transaction. Reminder, all bids are final. Thank you and enjoy the rest of The Market."

With that, there was a flash and all the items were stationed around the room. He found Stiles' pendant near the stage and went to meet the bidders.

What he hadn't anticipated, but should have, was the crowd that was around the item. Not only were the vampires there (ten of them in total), but the elves who had been outbid, as well as some other curious beings that Deaton had only read about in Bestiaries.

Not wanting to show his unease, he strode confidently up to the item and introduced himself.

"Alan Deaton, Emissary to the McCall pack, Beacon Hills, California."

"I am Demetrius of the Vitus Clan, London, England. Shall we sign?"

At each item's station was a contract to be signed by both parties in order to render the transaction binding. If either party reneged, then they would be dealt with severely by the market's council. A consequence which was not taken lightly by any of the attendees.

Once the contract was signed, the vampires nodded at Deaton and left, clearly anxious to use the energy on their sire.

Deaton himself was quite anxious to leave, but the group of elves had him stayed.

All five elves standing before him had electric blue eyes and long, snow white hair. They were dressed impeccably as well in very expensive, 3-piece suits that were all jewel toned with paisley vests. Deaton didn't quite know what to think.

"May I help you?"

An elf in a dark violet suit spoke, "We are the Islijuary from the Shadow Realm or Khlijuary, in their language. It is an honor to meet a pack member of such an impressive spark." He performed a shallow bow. "We would be equally honored for an opportunity to meet with the spark, in the hopes of forming a potential alliance."

Deaton had heard of this elven clan before. Shadow elves were sought after for their talents in shadow magics, which were highly effective when used in assassinations. An alliance between the McCall pack and the shadow elves would be too loud of a statement to the supernatural community, putting the pack on the supernatural radar. It would be an insult to deny the Islijuary clan; however, it was too much of a risk to accept.

"Please forgive my rudeness and know that I mean no insult; however, I must decline your generous offer." At their shocked and slightly indignant expressions (it is usually them having to decline the numerous requests they are bombarded with), Deaton hurried to get away. "If you will excuse me, I must take my leave. It was an honor meeting you, please enjoy the rest of The Market."

Looking at the pack he explained, "I had no idea they had tracked me. I knew they were interested in Stiles, but not to this extent."

"I've never heard of them." Allison interrupted. "They're not in my family's bestiary."

Peter scoffed, "They're too evolved to be in the records of human hunters. They're from the Shadow realm."

"Realm? As in another dimension?!" Isaac looked like he was freaking out a little bit.

"We really need to start having education sessions because the sheer ignorance in this pack is becoming embarrassing." Ignoring the insulted faces displayed on the younger members, Peter continued, "There are multiple dimensions, one of which is known as the Shadow realm. It's not dark or 'shadowy' as its name implies, it's simply named after the source of its inhabitant's innate magic – shadows. The elves from that realm are genderless hermaphrodites and appear androgynous, but because we're all a bunch of sexists we use male pronouns when discussing them."

"But what does the rock mean?" Derek asked. He was aware of the existence of multiple realms, but hadn't been interested enough in learning the different cultures and their intricacies.

Peter smirked evilly at Stiles. "It's the first step of a very long proposal."

Stiles eyes grew wide in shock. "Come again?"

Deaton sighed and interjected before Peter could scare Stiles further. "It doesn't necessarily mean a romantic proposal. The stone represents a proposal, yes, but it can simply be a completely unromantic proposal for an alliance. The fact that they have singled you out instead of reaching out to the pack as a whole leads me to believe that they would either like to convert you to their clan or, at the very least, become an auxiliary member."

Flabbergasted, Stiles said, "They don't even know me!"

"The energy signature you unknowingly left on the pendant revealed a great deal about your person, Stiles. They have felt the essence of your character (as did every super at that auction) and have deemed it worthy of warranting a place in their clan. By accepting the stone, you have accepted a tentative alliance bond. The specific elf who gave you the stone would have introduced himself and would have to be part of the monarchy by which they are ruled."

"This is absolutely insane. I had no idea what the hell he was saying. It was complete gibberish to me. I took the stupid stone and banana without thinking." Stiles had his hands in his hair, stress gripping it. "We have to get rid of them. What spell did they use to tail you? How are they even tailing me? Can we use it to find them and get them to leave?"

For the first time since meeting the annoyingly enigmatic man, Deaton looked almost…sheepish.

"There wasn't a spell."

Confused glances.

"Then what did they use to follow you?"

"…a Cadillac."

The group was silent, needing a moment to process the statement.

"Are you saying the reason I am in this mess is because you allowed a pimp mobile to follow you across America without noticing?" Stiles' voice grew in both pitch and volume by the end of his sentence and, unnoticed by Stiles, the TV turned back on and began rapidly flipping through channels, mirroring Stiles' frantic energy.

Deaton busied himself with shuffling the stone back and forth from his left hand to his right, as if the useless fidget was of the utmost importance, and didn't answer.

"Deaton. You suck." Stiles looked like his gasket was about to blow.

Watching the TV race through stations, Scott grew concerned about other potential accidental magic Stiles might do and tried to calm him down.

"Stiles, calm down." There. Scott tried.

"Calm down? Calm down?! Scott! I'm being targeted-'

"Overtured (probably romantically) or wooed, if you prefer" Peter corrected.

"-by a deranged, pointy eared psychopath-"

"a Shadow Elf: the most majestic (and perhaps deadly) of the elven species." Peter provided, "It's an honor, really."

"-who wants to abduct me away to some freaky land in another dimension!"

"Well, an Heir of Islijuary (most likely in line to the throne of Khlijuary, btw) couldn't be expected to stay in Beacon Hills. Don't be ridiculous." Peter scoffed.

Stiles whirled around to the eldest Hale, who was being creepy over by the spazzing TV and threatened, "I swear to god, if you do not Shut. The. Hell. Up. you're getting spayed."

Peter smirked and put up his hands in surrender. "It's neuter for males, fyi"

"I know, but you're such a bitch."