Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf.

Chapter 7 – Lion's Den

.

Scott

"She's not dead!" Derek insists, pacing around the vet clinic. Isaac is sitting on the counter, still in shock after the ice bath he just went through to recover his dormant memories. The good news is that he found Erica and Boyd; they're being held prisoner inside the vault at the Beacon Hills First National Bank.

The bad news is that, according to Isaac, Erica is already dead.

"Derek, he said 'There's a dead body; it's Erica'. That doesn't exactly leave us much room for interpretation," Stiles says.

"Then who was in the vault with Boyd?" Derek demands.

A thought occurs to me, and I turn to Isaac. "Maybe it was the girl on the motorcycle? The one who saved you?"

"No," Isaac says. "She wasn't like us. But the one in the vault with Boyd was."

"What if that's how Erica died?" Stiles asks. "What if they, like, pit them against each other during the full moon and see which one survives? Like Werewolf Thunderdome!"

I sigh, exasperated. Not really a good time for jokes, Stiles.

"Then we get them out," Derek says. "Tonight."

"Be smart about this, Derek," Deaton warns. "You can't just go storming in."

"If Isaac got in, then so can we."

"But he didn't get through the vault door, did he?" Deaton counters.

"We need a plan," I put in.

"How are we going to come up with a plan to break into a bank vault in less than twenty-four hours?" Derek asks.

"Uh, I think someone already did," Stiles replies, reading something on his phone. "'Beacon Hills First National closes its doors three months after vault robbery.' Doesn't say here how it was robbed, but it probably won't take long to find out."

Derek isn't satisfied. "How long?"

"It's the Internet, Derek," Stiles says, grinning. Derek stares back humorlessly, until Stiles sighs and clarifies, "Okay, minutes."

.

Matt

I enter the apartment building where Jennifer and I have been living and head into the elevator. I haven't been able to stop smiling since the end of class. Most of it is due to what just happened with Lacey, of course, but that's not all of it. For some reason, ever since I'd gotten out of school, I've felt like I'm riding a serious sugar high; in fact, I actually feel stronger.

I pause, contemplating that notion. Stronger…

Then my eyes widen as I realize what this means. I burst out of the elevator and rush down the hallway, unlocking our room and ducking inside.

Jennifer is sitting on the couch, reading. She looks up as I enter and smiles. "You feel it, don't you?"

I set down my backpack and sit in the armchair, feeling light-headed. "What… what is that?"

"It's done," Jennifer says. "The first sacrifice is complete."

I turn, startled, to look at her. "You mean, the girl…"

"Yes," she confirms. "She's dead."

I exhale slowly. Heather, the girl I saw at the party, is dead. For some reason, I find it hard to take pleasure in that knowledge.

"When do we take the next one?" I ask.

"I'll handle it," Jennifer says, smiling faintly. "Taking the other two virgins should be easy, with the information you got at the party. Within two days, the first knot will be completed."

I nod. "All right, so while you're out murdering people, is there anything you need me to do?"

She considers for a moment, then shakes her head, a wry grin coming to her face. "Just your homework. I'm only your teacher for one of your classes, and you can bet that your other teachers aren't going to go easy on you."

I groan, rubbing my eyes. "Oh, come on!"

Jennifer laughs. "Get to work, kid. Don't worry, we're not doing anything tonight anyway. And I'll call you in tomorrow if I need any help."

I pick up my backpack and walk back to my room with an exaggerated sigh. "All right, fine. Whatever."

As I sit down next to my desk and start taking my homework out of the backpack, an idea occurs to me. If she doesn't need my help tonight…

I'm fairly convinced that if I'd been in a cartoon at that moment, a lightbulb would have appeared over my head.

I grin. This might be a terrible idea, but as long as I don't have anything else to do…

.

Scott

"Boys!"

My eyes snap open and I whirl around, falling out of the chair onto the floor as I see Stiles's dad standing in the doorway, glaring at us. Behind me, Stiles snaps awake, looking around wide-eyed.

"I've got to get to work; you two get to school." Sheriff Stilinski starts walking out of the room.

"Dad!" Stiles calls. He adds hesitantly, "Heather?"

The Sheriff looks down. "No, nothing yet." He turns and exits.

"Ten hours and nothing!" Stiles says, disgusted. He's justified; we spent the entire night trying to figure out how the hell those robbers got into the bank, and we have absolutely nothing to show for it.

"We're going to find something," I reassure him.

"'Something' doesn't make Erica any less dead or Boyd any less about to be dead."

"We still have time," I argue.

"Is this whole 'remain optimistic in the face of complete and utter disaster' a part of the 'be a better Scott McCall' program?"

"No, not if it doesn't work."

Stiles sighs. "No, it works." He looks down at one of the dozens of pages we printed out last night and frowns in surprise, bending down and picking it up. As he looks at it, his eyes widen in shock. "Oh – Dad!" he yells, handing the paper to me and sprinting out of the room. "Dad! Dad!"

I look down at the paper, my eyes widening in surprise as I see a picture of Sheriff Stilinski in front of the bank, arresting one of the robbers.

.

Matt

I stroll into Economics class, my usual confident smirk on my face. I glance over and see, as I expected, Lacey, sitting in her usual desk. She's wearing a light green top, a white scarf, and a black skirt today, which brings out her blonde hair and bright blue eyes.

I actually catch myself staring for a moment, then shake it off. Get ahold of yourself. You look like an idiot.

Allowing the smirk to return, I stroll across the room, seating myself next to Lacey. Scott isn't here yet, so I see no harm in chatting with her for a while. She's clearly been going through some notes, as she didn't notice me sit down. She jumps in shock when I tap her on the shoulder, but she relaxes as she turns to face me.

I grin. "Sorry about that. I didn't mean to scare you."

Lacey blushes. "It's okay," she says with a giggle. "How are you?"

"I'm good, thanks," I reply. "How are you?"

She shrugs. "I'm okay. Better now that you're here." Instantly, her eyes widen in shock, and her face turns scarlet as she realizes what she just said. She looks down at the desk, hiding her face with her hair.

I blush too, but I'm able to will it down. Matt, stop being an idiot! I smile, as reassuringly as I can, and reply, "Well, thanks. That's really sweet of you."

Lacey glances over at me through her hair. "You really mean that?" she asks softly. "You don't think that sounds weird?"

My grin widens, and I realize that it's actually a genuine smile for once. "Yeah, of course I mean that, Lacey! How could I ever think that sounds weird?"

Lacey blushes again. "Thank you," she murmurs, her voice faltering.

I still don't know how I came up with the idea to do this, but I smile at Lacey and take the plunge. "So, Lacey… can I ask you something?" There are times for joking around, and this isn't one of them; my voice is gentle, but serious.

Lacey nods nervously. "Yes… what is it?"

"Well… I, um…" I sigh. "I'm sorry, I'm not good at this sort of thing. I…" Damn it, Matt, be a man! I scold myself. "Would you like to… hang out sometime? Like, outside of school? With me?" I look away, blushing.

Lacey's face lights up. "Really?"

I nod slowly. "Y…Yeah."

She taps on my shoulder, causing me to look back at her, and smiles. "I'd love to."

I smile brightly. "Great!"

"When… what day did you have in mind?" Lacey asks.

"How about tonight?" I immediately wince at how hasty that sounded. "I mean… if that works for you."

Lacey seems surprised, but she nods, smiling. "I'll have to talk to my parents and ask them if it's okay, but if it is… then yeah, I'd love to."

I grin. "Okay, then. It's a date."

Lacey smiles back, but looks down at her desk, seemingly nervous. She taps her fingers on the desk, and asks, "So, what did you have in mind? For us to do tonight, I mean?"

Fortunately, I do, in fact, have a plan for that.

I lean back and flash my usual smirk. "How good are you at bowling?"

.

Scott

After school, we all gather at Derek's loft to discuss our plan for breaking into the bank. Fortunately, Stiles's dad was able to get the information regarding the break-in at Beacon Hills First National, so Stiles has been able to come up with a plan to get inside.

"Okay," Stiles says, unfolding a blueprint of the bank and setting it down on the table. He points to one spot circled in red. "You see this? This is how they got in. This is a rooftop air conditioning vent; it leads down inside, into the wall of the vault, which is here, okay?" He marks the vault's location on the blueprint with another red circle. "One of the robbers was lowered into this shaft. Now, that space is so small that it took them twelve hours to drill into that wall – which is stone, by the way. Then, throughout the rest of the night, they siphoned the cash back up to the guys on the roof through that one little shaft in the wall." He stands back, spreading his arms in satisfaction. "Boom!"

I study the map, feeling a bit of skepticism. Those markings seem very small. "Can we fit in there?"

"Yes, we can," Stiles replies, "but very, very barely. And they also patched the wall, obviously, so we're going to need a drill of some kind; I'm thinking maybe a diamond bit–"

"Look, forget the drill," Derek interrupts, examining the diagram.

Stiles looks at him in surprise. "Sorry?"

"If I go in first, how much space do I have?" Derek asks.

Stiles looks over at me, a sarcastic grin appearing on his face, and then turns back to Derek. "What do you think you're going to do, Derek? You're going to punch through the wall?"

I sigh inwardly. Oh, great.

Derek crosses his arms, mocking Stiles by copying his smirk. "Yes, Stiles; I'm going to punch through the wall."

Stiles isn't deterred. "Okay, big guy, let's see it. Let's see that fist. Big old fist, make it, come on. Get it out there, don't be scared."

Derek rolls his eyes, holding up one hand and clenching it into a fist.

"Big, bad wolf? Yeah, look at that! Okay, yeah, see this?" He grabs Derek's fist, placing his other hand, palm open, a few inches in front of it. "That's maybe three inches of room to gather enough power to punch through solid–" Derek casually swings his arm forward, his fist smacking into Stiles's palm. "OW!" Stiles recoils, clutching at his hand.

I glance at Derek, raising an eyebrow. He doesn't reply.

"He can do it," Stiles groans, still cradling his hand.

"I'll get through the wall," Derek says matter-of-factly. "Who's following me down?"

Peter, who's sitting over on the stairwell, looks up. "Don't look at me; I'm not up to fighting speed yet. And, honestly, with Isaac out of commission, you're not looking at very good odds yourself."

"So I'm supposed to just let them die?" Derek demands.

Peter shrugs. "One of them's already dead."

"We don't know that!"

Peter sighs, rolling his eyes as he gets to his feet. "Do I have to remind you what we're up against here? A pack of Alphas, all of them killers; and if that's not enough to scare your testicles back up into your stomach, try to remember that two of them can combine bodies to form one giant Alpha." He looks around the room, meeting each of our eyes in turn. "Now, I'm sure Erica and Boyd are sweet kids; they're going to be missed."

"Can someone kill him again, please?" Stiles asks.

Peter crosses his arms, his gaze locked on Derek. "Derek, seriously? Not worth the risk."

Ignoring him, Derek looks over at me. "What about you?"

"Well, yeah, if you want me to come–" Stiles says, clearly not understanding.

"Not you!" Derek snaps.

Stiles turns to me, nodding in realization. "Scott?"

I consider for a long moment, but in reality my decision is already made. "I don't know about Erica. But if Boyd is still alive, then we have to do something." I look over to Peter, then back to Derek. "We have to try." I hesitate. "But…"

Derek's eyes narrow. "But what?"

"Who's the other girl? The one locked in there with Boyd."

.

Matt

Once again, the bowling ball smashes through the pins, knocking all ten of them down in one shot.

My eyes widen in shock. "Wow!" I turn to Lacey, who's grinning in excitement. "You're really good at this!"

She shrugs. "I used to go bowling a lot when I was a kid; my uncle owns a bowling alley in Los Angeles. We moved out here when I started high school, so I just… stopped, I guess." A smile appears on her face. "Still got it, I guess."

"You guess?" I ask. "You gotten a strike or a spare on every round! And you just got three strikes in a row on the last one!"

Lacey chuckles. "Just like riding a bike, I guess." She frowns. "Although I was never very good at riding a bike, honestly."

We both burst out laughing.

"Okay, it's time for your last shot," Lacey says, a mischievous glint coming into her eyes. "Let's see if you can beat me."

My eyes narrow, and I smirk. "We'll just see about that, won't we?" I lift the bowling ball, trying not to display how easy it is for me to carry it due to my new strength, and walk up to the line, checking the display board as I do. So far, Lacey and I have been neck-and-neck the entire time; I haven't been using my telekinesis, because that would take the fun out of it. Bowling was one of my favorite activities as a child; I did it at every possible chance I got, and I became very skilled at it. Even after dying and being resurrected, those old skills are still there; and, like everything else, those skills are heightened through my newly enhanced strength, speed and reflexes.

I focus in on the pins at the far end of the track; I need to get three strikes to beat Lacey. A grin forms on my face, and I swing and release the ball.

The ball rockets down the center of the line and hits the pins dead-on, toppling all of them.

Lacey cheers behind me, clapping.

I grin. That's one.

Walking back over, I wait for a few seconds until my bowling ball emerges from the machine; picking it up, I stroll back out onto the wooden floor, refocusing on the pins. I inhale deeply, and exhale as I swing my arm forward, releasing the ball. Once again, it hits the pins squarely, and they all topple.

My smirk grows, as more cheers ring out behind me; several other people, in addition to Lacey, are observing our game, obviously impressed.

That's two, I think.

Once again, I return, pick up the bowling ball, and grin to Lacey. "Okay, here's the last one. Get ready to lose."

She smiles teasingly. "We'll see."

I wink at her, causing her to blush, and walk back out to the alley. Locking my eyes on the pins, I lean forward slightly, balancing myself. I inhale a deep breath, draw my hand back, and swing–

And, at that exact moment, a sensation like icy water running down my back hits me, along with a rush of… energy, of power, an electric feeling, as if I just drank a giant cup of coffee in an instant.

"Ah!" I gasp, as I flinch, stumbling, and the ball leaves my hand. It rolls down the aisle, but curves just before reaching the end. It still hits the pins, but two of them remain upright as the others clatter to the floor.

The scoreboard dings, tallying up our totals. I look back over to Lacey, who's watching me with a mixture of amusement and concern in her eyes.

"Are you all right?" she asks, hurrying over to me.

"I… yeah, I'm fine," I say. "I just… I don't know what happened. Something feels weird."

Lacey leads me back to our seats, and I sink onto the chair, breathing deeply to calm myself. That energy is still within me, flowing through my body as it merges with the power that I already possess.

That's when I recognize the feeling; it's exactly the same sensation that I felt after Jennifer killed that girl Heather. A sacrifice has been made.

One of the other two virgins is dead.

I inhale sharply when I realize that, but Lacey doesn't notice; she's too focused on making sure I'm all right.

I take a deep breath, then exhale slowly, trying to calm my power. I manage to restrain myself, and turn to Lacey with a weary smile. "It's okay, Lacey. I'm fine."

"Well, you don't seem fine," Lacey says.

I chuckle. "It's okay, trust me. I'm all right. Nothing's wrong."

She seems doubtful. "Are you sure?"

I look up at her, smiling. And, for some reason, I decide to say, "Of course I'm sure. I'm here, having a great time, and actually having fun for the first time in a long time. And, best of all, I get to spend it with you. How could something be wrong?"

Lacey stares at me, her mouth open slightly. "Michael… that's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me." She hugs me tightly, and I wrap my arms around her, holding her close. I've never hugged a girl like this before. Come to think of it, I've never really hugged anyone before, besides my parents when I was a kid.

For a moment, I close my eyes, and I lose myself, breathing in the sweet smell of her hair; she smells like roses.

Then the moment passes; I let go, and she steps back. I smile at her. "So… I think we should probably be going. We finished the game, after all, and your parents did say to call them as soon as we were done."

Lacey smiles. "Yeah, you're right. Hang on, I'll call my mom."

As we walk out of the bowling alley, Lacey fishes her cell phone out of her pocket and calls her mom to come and pick her up. While she's on the phone, I remove my cell phone from my pocket, shivering slightly in the cool night air, and text Jennifer.

Matt: Did you just take the next one?

Within thirty seconds, she replies.

Jennifer Blake: Yep. Two virgins down. I'm going to go find the next one. Having a good evening?

Chuckling to myself at the absurdity of this situation, I type up my reply.

Matt: Yeah, had a lot of fun. Think I'll head home now. See you later.

Jennifer Blake: Later.

I replace the phone in my pocket as Lacey walks over to me. "Okay, so I called my mom. She was having dinner a few blocks from here, so she'll be here in a couple of minutes."

I nod. "Okay, sounds good."

As we sit down on a bench next to the street to wait, I notice that Lacey's shivering; she's still wearing her outfit from school, and her arms are bare. Even with the scarf around her neck, she must be freezing.

"Pretty cold, isn't it?" I ask, smiling. She nods and keeps shivering, rubbing her arms in an effort to warm up.

"You know, I do have a jacket, in case you need one," I say.

Lacey's eyes widen, and she shakes her head. "No, it's okay. You need it."

"Oh, come on, you're freezing!" I unzip and pull off my leather jacket, sliding it around her shoulders. She resists for a moment, but then relents, sliding her arms through the sleeves and zipping it up. I put an arm around her shoulders, holding her close to help her warm up. She hugs me back; obviously, she knows that I must be cold too, since I was only wearing a white T-shirt under the jacket.

"Now, isn't that better?" I say, grinning.

"Yeah, definitely," she admits, smiling.

We stay there for a long moment, nestled together. My chin rests on top of her head, since I'm about eight inches taller than she is, and she's leaning against me. Hesitantly, I reach out and take her hands in mine, rubbing my thumbs over her cold skin to warm them up. Lacey shivers.

"You okay?" I ask softly.

She turns her head slightly, looking up at me through her hair. "Yeah," she says, smiling faintly. "I'm okay."

I brush a lock of hair from her forehead, so I can see her eyes. She blushes again, and I grin. My grin fades, though, when my gaze drops from her eyes to her lips. I swallow, wondering why my mouth suddenly seems dry, and refocus on her bright blue eyes. She reaches up, placing her right hand on my cheek.

Slowly, we lean in towards each other, our eyes locked, breathing deeply and slowly. It's still cold, but neither of us can feel that at this point.

I speak softly, my eyes now inches from hers. "Lacey… I…"

And, as luck would have it – because karma's a bitch that way sometimes – that's precisely when a car horn blares.

Lacey and I both jerk upright, the moment shattered, as a sleek silver van pulls up next to the curb.

Lacey gets up, unzipping my jacket and handing it back to me. "Here you go," she says, smiling. "I have a heater in the car; you'll need this more than I will."

I nod, smirking faintly as I take the jacket from her and put it on. "I'll… see you tomorrow, then."

She nods, smiling. "I'll be looking forward to it."

I grin and hug her one last time, and then let her go. She opens the door of the car, hops in, and closes the passenger's door behind her. She waves to me as the car drives off down the road.

I look around and sigh to myself, zipping up the jacket.

Matthew Daehler, you are an idiot.

But the only thing I can think of, in that moment, is the feeling of Lacey's hand on my cheek, of her breath on my face. If I'd leaned an inch farther forward, I would have been kissing her.

I turn and walk off down the street towards my apartment, grinning like an idiot. I know I look stupid right now, but I don't care. This date – if I can call it that – went perfectly. I couldn't have hoped for a better ending to this day. I'm riding a euphoric high; it seems like nothing can get in my way.

This state, as it would later turn out, lasts for about twenty minutes, before fate conspires to screw it up once again.

.

Stiles Stilinski

I've spent the last half an hour pacing back and forth inside Derek's loft, thinking about all of the ways this plan could go wrong. I'm currently standing by the window, looking outside at the rising full moon and biting my nails nervously.

"I can't take waiting around like this," I mutter. "You know, it's nerve-racking. My nerves are racked; they're severely racked!"

"I could beat you unconscious and wake you up when it's over," Peter offers dryly. He's sitting on the stairs again, leaning casually against the guardrail.

Ignoring him, I return my attention to the moon. "Do you think Erica's really dead?"

"Do you think I care?"

I turn away from the window and start pacing again. "It's just… I don't understand the bank, though. Okay… I mean, why wouldn't they chain them up in some underground lair or something? They're an Alpha pack, so shouldn't they have a lair?"

"They're werewolves, not Bond villains," Peter replies, sounding bored.

A realization hits in my mind. "Wait a sec, wait a sec! Maybe they're living there, you know? Like, maybe the bank vault reminds them of their little wolf dens!"

Peter raises an eyebrow. "Wolf dens?"

"Yeah, wolf dens!" I turn, my eyes narrowing in puzzlement as I regard Peter. "Where do you live?"

"In an underground network of caves hidden deep in the woods," Peter deadpans.

My eyes widen. "Really?"

"No, you idiot!" he shoots back condescendingly. "I rent an apartment downtown."

I sigh. "Okay, fine. Still, that just proves there's something up at the bank." Something else occurs to me. "And… why wait around for the full moon, huh? Why not just kill them all whenever they want to?"

"Maybe they think it's poetic," Peter offers, still sounding bored.

I shake my head. "They've already had three full moons to be poetic."

"And you've only had one full hour to be so annoying–" Peter's eyes widen suddenly, and he stands up, walking over to the table with the documents my dad gave me about the bank and the robbery.

"No, go ahead, finish what you were saying," I snark. "You were saying I'm annoying, what were you going to say then?"

"What are the walls made of?"

Well, that's not what I was expecting to hear. "What? I don't know… like wood, and brick–"

"No, the vault!" Peter cuts me off. "The vault; the walls, what are they made out of?" He scanned the blueprint, but saw nothing helpful. "Where would it say the material? The type of stone?"

"Oh, hang on!" I say, grinning in realization as I rummage through my bag – which is full of more documents – looking for the one I need. "Yeah, here. See, it's got to be in here."

Peter joins me, and we look quickly through all of the books that I brought with me. Finally, I find it; the details on wall composition, including that of the main vault.

"There, that's it!" I call, pinpointing the spot on the page where it's located. I don't recognize the term; I'm even having trouble figuring out how to pronounce it.

"Hecatolite," Peter whispers to himself, his eyes widening in shock.

"Is that awful? That sounds awful."

Peter whirls to me. "Get them on the phone! Call him, now!"

"Okay!" I yell, grabbing my phone and dialing. "Why?"

"Because Boyd and that girl aren't going to kill each other; they're going to kill Derek and Scott."

.

Scott

The stone gives way, cracking apart and crumbling. Derek somersaults into the room; I follow, stepping over the rubble that our entrance created. One glance around is enough to confirm it; this is the vault we need.

"Boyd?" Derek calls out, not seeing anyone in the room. I hear a growl, and Boyd slowly walks out of the shadows, his eyes glowing yellow.

"Boyd?" Derek asks. Boyd doesn't reply; he just glares at us. His fingers twitch, his hands clenching.

My phone rings, and I answer it. "Stiles, now's not the best time."

"Scott!" Stiles yells over the phone. "Scott, no, listen to me, okay? You've gotta get out of there. Look, the walls of the vault are made with a mineral called hecatolite. It scatters the moonlight."

"What does that mean?" I ask, feeling a chill of foreboding.

"We're here to get you out, okay?" Derek says to Boyd, who still doesn't reply.

"Look, it keeps the moonlight out, okay?" Stiles says urgently. "They haven't felt the full moon in months."

"Think about it like the gladiators in the Roman Coliseum," Peter puts in. "They used to starve the lions for three days, making them more vicious, more out of control. Deucalion has kept them from shifting for three full moons, diminishing their tolerance to it."

"Scott, they're going to be stronger," Stiles warns.

"More savage, more bloodthirsty," Peter adds. "Scott, they're the lions. They're the starved lions, and you and Derek just stepped into the Coliseum."

I turn nervously, seeing shafts of moonlight pouring through the gaping hole that Derek and I left in the wall.

Oh, crap, I think. "Derek, we've got a problem; a very big problem."

As I talk, a girl walks out of the shadows to join Boyd. Her eyes are also glowing yellow, and she has shoulder-length brown hair and pale skin.

Derek freezes in shock. "Cora?" he whispers.

I look to the girl, then back to Derek. "Who?"

"Cora?" Derek repeats.

"Derek?" the girl – Cora, I'm assuming – asks, her voice strained. Her eyes widen. "Get out!" she growls. "Get out now!"

"Scott!" Stiles yells over the phone. "Scott!"

I'm not listening; I glance down at the floor just in time to see a line of black dust ringing the perimeter of the room.

I inhale sharply. Oh, no.

That's when the vault door opens, revealing – Ms. Morrell?! What the hell is going on?!

And just when I think it can't get worse, she drops a handful of the mountain ash powder onto the floor, completing the seal around the room. With a flash of blue light, the barrier is solid. All four of us are trapped in here.

"No!" I yell. "No, wait!"

It's too late; she's gone, and Boyd and Cora snarl, their eyes blazing yellow as they shift, their fangs and claws extending.

I exchange one glance with Derek, and I know what he's thinking.

This isn't going to end well.

And then they charge.

.

Matt

I'm walking down the street, on my way home, when an odd sound causes me to stop. To a human, the noise would be totally inaudible, but I can hear it clearly.

Snarling. The sounds of werewolves, more than one, from somewhere inside the large building across the street from me.

Since there aren't any cars coming from either direction, I hurry across the street, my eyes narrowing as I focus my superhuman hearing, picking up the sounds of snarling, roars and chaos. Clearly, a major fight is taking place in there

Then my eyes widen as I hear a voice, one I recognize.

"Look out!" the voice shrieks in horror.

I smirk. Allison.

"No, don't break the seal!" another voice yells, who I recognize as Derek Hale.

"Boyd!" Allison screams. I hear a snarl, and the sound of pounding footsteps on a stone floor, coming from inside the bank, but moving quickly towards the front entrance.

Moving towards me.

My eyes widen in surprise, and I immediately summon up a new illusion, one that Jennifer taught me recently; I can take on the appearance of whatever I'm near, whether it's the side of a building, the trunk of a tree, or just a shadow. This makes for perfect camouflage.

I've only barely managed to summon my illusion, making myself identical to the pattern of stone on the wall, and press my back against the wall, concealing myself, when the front door of the bank bursts open. Two figures, obviously werewolves, rush out of the bank and down the front steps. Letting out simultaneous snarls, they drop to all fours and take off down the block, towards the preserve.

I'm left staring after them, my eyes wide in shock.

What the hell was that?!

.

A/N: And here we are again. I'm really sorry that it's been so long since I updated this story, but I've been extremely busy, so it's been hard to find enough time to devote to this story. I'll update as soon as I can.

On another note, how awesome is Season 3B?! I already know what I want to do with this story when I get there, and trust me, it's going to be fantastic!

Shoutout to Pace1818 for reviewing; you're awesome! Thanks for the feedback! :)

As always, I tremendously appreciate reviews and feedback, so if anyone has any questions or comments regarding this chapter or the story as a whole, please review! (No hate, please).

Next chapter, the pack hunts for Boyd and Cora, and Matt tries to figure out how to deal with the situation… and with an unexpected encounter with a couple of former friends.

See you next time!

Review Q&A:

Q: I'm liking how you're fleshing out both Matt and Lacey. Their interactions are always great. And the way Matt messes with Scott is just too funny. I kind of feel bad for the guy.

A: Yeah, I enjoy writing scenes with Matt and Lacey as well; it gives Matt a chance to show his sensitive side, which isn't really something that we see on the show. Lacey definitely makes him more human, which is something that will have a major effect on him as the story goes on. As for Scott… yeah, Matt's messing with him is really funny to write, but I do feel bad for Scott. I mean, come on, an undead serial killer is apparently stalking him. It's definitely going to take a while for him to figure out what the hell is going on.