Caught, in that, he supposed. Most people didn't believe in the supernatural. Derek didn't have that luxury, considering he was supernatural. He supposed he could always write himself off, to her, as one of "those nutjobs" if it came down to it. "Sounds lovely," he retorted at her point that said ghosts were not only ghosts, but homicidal ones. Sounds like Peter, he thought miserably, considering the miserable bastard should have been dead, if not for Lydia's help.
Clara seemed so wrapped up in her story that Derek couldn't help thinking he'd become temporarily invisible and he took that opportunity to study her more closely. There was still a scent and she didn't reek of decay or death, she was just...void of a heartbeat and that was something Derek couldn't quite wrap his head around. She was interesting, this Clara, that was for sure. He made a mental note to keep an eye on her. ...and to keep his pack away until he knew more, if he could.
"Wouldn't be a good ghost story if they didn't have some especially creepy agenda, though, would it?" he remarked, a small grin on his face. "So what happened, then? How do you kill something that's already dead?"