Sorry for the very, very delayed chapter, but here it is.

Warnings for arson, murder, someone getting their throat crushed and death threats, and implied eventual incest.

Chapter 3: The other pack

Sam had no idea where a suburban mom would have gotten all the gasoline from, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know, but lo and behold, Pamela Fitzgerald was carrying multiple plastic containers of gasoline out of the garage of the Fitzgerald house.

Ginger watched, not caring that she wasn't helping. As Pamela began to soak the front steps of the house, Ginger finally said what she was thinking, speaking the inevitable, that had been on her mind.

"Mom, I'm sorry, but we have to bring dad with us." She said quietly.

Pamela looked back at Ginger, startled. She shook her head. "No, honey. Never mind him," she said, "He just won't understand. I'll keep you safe, okay, baby?"

Ginger huffed. As much as she agreed that Henry Fitzgerald wouldn't understand what was going on here-she imagined that it was a stretch for fucking Pamela to understand, she still knew she couldn't leave her father behind.

Had Henry always been weak? Yes. But was that convenient for Ginger, since she wanted wolves who would obey her?

Yes.

Besides, a new thought entered Ginger's mind, making the decision for her. That if they left Henry behind, it might hurt Brigitte.

And well, Ginger couldn't allow that, could she?

Ginger was many things, but she would always take care of Brigitte. Always.

"No," Ginger ordered, no hesitance in her voice as she glared at her mother, "Dad's coming with us. Whether you like it or not."

Pam stiffened up, looking back at Ginger, startled.

From where he stood, watching the other werewolf and the mother, he shifted, now nervous, watching this interaction.

He swallowed, wondering what was about to happen. His wolf could sense that something dangerous was rising in Ginger, or rather, had the potential to rise up, that was, if Pamela went against Ginger's commands.

"Ginger," Pamela began, her voice reasonable, before Ginger cut her off.

"Mom," Ginger warned, voice growling, "Think very carefully," her white eyes narrowed, "Think about who has control here. You might be my mom, but I'm a werewolf. And I'm in control. And I say that dad comes with us. For Brigitte."

Pamela looked at Ginger and looked at the danger in her oldest child's eyes, and she shuddered, nodding timidly, making Ginger grin.

No one said anything else, as Pamela soaked the rest of the house in gasoline.

Ginger had meant what she said to Pamela. For Brigitte, they'd bring Henry along.

Henry had never really been that involved in his children's lives. Ginger had no doubt that Henry loved both her and Brigitte, however, he never really had tried to understand either of them.

Although, in his defense? Neither Ginger, nor Brigitte had ever really made it easy for him, had they?

Him or Pam.

However, Ginger knew that he loved them. And if it meant that it might make Brigitte happy? Then Ginger was bringing their father with them.

As long as Brigitte was happy and safe.

And as long as Ginger could have her.

Unfortunately, Ginger knew that Sam wasn't an exception.

Ginger planned to kill Sam when she didn't need him anymore. She would use him to help her find Brigitte. But that was it.

Afterwards? Sam was dead meat.

Ginger wasn't going to risk him getting between her and Brigitte. Not ever again.

So, she'd let Sam think he had a place in her pack. Even if he didn't.

It was after Ginger instructed Pamela not to light the garage and house on fire, until after they had Henry with them, because they didn't want to risk the police getting here before then, that Ginger was suddenly hit with a realization. One that she announced very loudly in shock.

"Oh, shit!" Ginger growled, making both Sam and Pamela turn to her, startled, "Jason."

"Jason?" Sam asked, confused, "McCardy? What about him?"

Ginger knew that unfortunately, she was going to have to spill this to her mother, if they needed to all be aware that they needed to grab Jason soon, "I fucked Jason and he got infected, alright?"

Sam's eyes became huge and blood drained from his face. Oh, shit. Shit. Then again, this made sense. He remembered what Brigitte told him. That she had needed to use the monkswood on someone. Someone who wasn't Ginger. And Brigitte believed that the monskwood worked.

Was Jason who Brigitte had used the monkswood on?

But why? What had prioritized having to give Jason the monkswood over Ginger?

Ginger, Brigitte's beloved sister.

"You had sex with a boy?" Pamela asked, and while Ginger expected one of two reactions; either disgust over Ginger letting some boy touch her, or joy at Ginger having experiences as a "woman," but instead Pamela just looked stunned and exhausted and Ginger wasn't sure she could blame the woman.

Pamela was already dealing with all of this craziness; werewolves, murder, and her oldest daughter being a werewolf, and her youngest daughter being missing, like a champ. Learning that Ginger hadn't just had sex with a local boy, but also had infected him with lycanthropy? Most likely had just added one more layer of chaos for Pamela. Just one more layer of chaos. And nothing more.

Sam said quietly, staring at Ginger like he thought Ginger was insane, which he probably did, "You infected him? Dammit, Ginger! Now we have to bring him with us."

Ginger, tried not to snort. Oh, she thought about bringing Jason with them, alright. However, she had other plans for him that didn't involve making him part of the pack.

She had sworn to Brigitte that she would kill Jason for threatening Brigitte. And she had meant it. She would kill Jason for cornering Brigitte in the school closet and intending to do fuck knew what to her when he had her cornered before that weird-ass janitor had interfered.

Ginger made the plan in seconds. She'd let Sam think that Jason was coming with them and would be part of their pack.

But as soon as they were out of Bailey Downs, Ginger would kill Jason. Tear his throat right out. Take his head off. Tear off pieces of his body. Burn or bury his body parts.

Anything to avenge and protect Brigitte.

And Ginger would be the executioner of Jason and any future plans he had.

Brigitte believed that Jason was "cured" from the monkswood.

She was wrong. But she thought that Ginger and Sam were dead and that Jason was cured.

Which gave Ginger the advantage.

She would bring Jason and her father with them. She'd bite both her parents.

When they had Brigitte, she'd kill Jason. Kill him for so much as looking at Brigitte, let alone threatening her.

And then she'd get rid of Sam.

And with all three of Brigitte's family members being werewolves? Well, then Brigitte wouldn't exactly have much of a choice, would she? She'd have to be with them. It was the only chance she'd have to get her family back.

And well, after that? Brigitte would be Ginger's again.

Only this time…...Ginger would take what she wanted with B.

Brigitte would understand. She was sure. The only one for Brigitte, was Ginger. And the only one for Ginger, was Brigitte.

Ginger had denied it before, because some part of her, for all her rebellious claims and non-conforming life choices, had been ashamed. But not so much ashamed of what society thought of her.

Because fuck the people at her school. Fuck the neighborhood she and Brigitte grew up in. And fuck Bailey Downs as a whole.

No, what Ginger had been ashamed of, was the thought of how Brigitte would look at her, should she ever find out what Ginger wanted with her.

She had feared what Brigitte would think of her.

It was why Ginger had never told Brigitte. Ever.

But now? What reason did Ginger have to hold back now? She was a werewolf. Brigitte was going to be one soon enough. And their lives in Bailey Downs was basically over.

So, why worry about shame? She and Brigitte could have it all now.

Brigitte might resist at first. But seeing not just her sister, but her parents being werewolves? Well, Brigitte, stubborn as she was, would eventually come around.

"Yeah, yeah, Sam," Ginger grumbled, "Give it a rest. We'll go get him later, after my dad comes by and we bring him with us."

Ginger ignored her mother's grumblings of, "Another man."

She didn't have time for her mother's irritating and condescending lectures.

Ginger loved her parents. As useless as they were, she loved them. But she had to wonder, how much of all this could have been avoided, if Pamela and Henry had more of a spine and had interfered more?

Could Ginger have been stopped?

If Pamela and Henry realized where Ginger and Brigitte's relationship was going earlier, could this all have been stopped before it had started?

Probably not. Ginger had always been a force to be reckoned with. And Brigitte had always loved Ginger so much.

So, probably not. But Ginger still had to wonder what would have happened, had Pamela and Henry just grown a spine.

But too late to think about that, right?

Ginger was who she was now. What she was now.

And she would have Brigitte. Even if Sam, her mother or father tried to stop her.

In hindsight, Ginger realized that she should have admitted to her feelings ages ago, because she was sure that everyone else had seen it. Sam, Jason, Trina, a lot of the other kids at school. They had seen it.

Ginger had heard the whispering. Whispering that only got louder with the hearing that Ginger had now, as improved as it was.

She had heard how all of the teenagers had talked about Ginger and Brigitte's relationship, had talked about how creepy their relationship was. How borderline incestuous it was.

That hadn't been their phrasing, duh. But it was close enough. Mainly more than a few vulgar boys and yes, more than a few vulgar girls wondering if Ginger fucked Brigitte, or wanted to fuck Brigitte.

Hilarious, wasn't it? That even if they were a bunch of sacks of shit, they weren't wrong.

Ginger had no idea how Brigitte saw her. She thought she did. But she didn't now.

She thought that Brigitte would see her in the same way Ginger saw Brigitte. But she just didn't know.

She loved Brigitte. And she was sure that Brigitte loved her too.

Ginger just didn't know how Brigitte had loved her. She wanted Brigitte to love her the same way she loved Brigitte. But she couldn't be sure, could she?

Had Brigitte been afraid of what people would think? Or had she just been afraid of Ginger? That thought, that Brigitte might have been afraid of her, hurt Ginger. It made her growl and almost whimper a second later.

This caught both Pamela and Sam's attention and she opened her mouth, threatening them with her fangs.

"Fuck off," she ordered, "I was just thinking." Frustrated, Ginger looked at her mother, "When the fuck is dad getting here?"

Pamela answered after a few seconds, "He said he was going to play bingo. I don't know when he's coming back. But he probably should be back soon."

Ginger nodded.

They waited it out about another hour and then the sounds of a car driving up, made Ginger look at where someone was approaching. She recognized the car. It was her father's car.

She grinned, stepping back as Sam and Pamela made way, giving Henry Fitzgerald access to the driveway.

Henry drove into the driveway and parked. He got out of the car and locked the car, then turned, the first person he saw, being Ginger.

As soon as he saw her, Ginger swore she heard his heart stop and she almost cackled.

She must have been a terrifying sight to see.

Her hair entirely white, with fangs, and white eyes.

She must have looked entirely alien to her father.

Henry gasped, backing up into the side of his car.

"Hey, dad," Ginger said, smirking, showing her fangs, "Sorry, but we need to talk."

"Ginger?" Henry asked, disbelief in his voice, looking pale as he took in the sight of his oldest child, "What….?"

Pamela walked around the car and reached him. She looked at him and Henry turned to her, startled. "P-Pamela?" He asked, confusion and fear all over his face, "What….what is even happening right now?"

Pamela sighed, "Henry, there's a lot we didn't know about that was happening in our girls' lives."

Ginger almost burst out laughing. Boy, that was the understatement of the century, wasn't it?

Pamela tried to calmly explain what was going on and Ginger gave commentary every now and then about how this "werewolf thing" worked. Henry kept looking between his wife and first daughter, occasionally catching glimpses of Sam who didn't say a word.

Finally, Henry asked the question that had entered his mind as soon as it became clear that Pamela was onboard with Ginger being a werewolf.

He asked, "Where the hell is Brigitte?!"

Ginger snorted, "She's fucking missing in action, sorry, old man. But don't worry. We'll get her back. But right now? We're talking about you. So, how about it, old man? Are you coming with us, or not? I want to bring you with us, because I know it might hurt B if I don't bring you along. But if not? Well, it's not a requirement."

Now, oblivious as Henry was? He heard the subtle threat in his oldest daughter's tone.

Ginger's grin widened when she saw how Henry paled more. Ginger said, "Here's the deal, old man. You can come with us, and I can bite you and you can do whatever you want after that, because you'll be just as in danger as I'll be in if anyone knows what we are. And you can see me and B be alive and healthy and free of this bullshit town. Or you say 'no,' and I rip you apart," Ginger opened her mouth, showing Henry all her sharp fangs and her wide maw of a mouth as she heard him swallow and whimper, "What will it be, dad?"

Henry stared at his oldest daughter, horrified.

He had no idea how to comprehend what Ginger had become. But as unaware as he was, he understood.

There was no choice. Ginger was a werewolf and had decided that she had no real need of him, just wanted him around for Brigitte's sake. Pamela clearly was taking Ginger's side. And that young man over there who Ginger called "Sam," was apparently subservient to Ginger. That was clear enough to Henry.

Henry had no way of getting out of this. It was either side with his daughter's "pack," or die.

Henry sucked in a deep breath. Ginger…she might not love him as much as he loved her, but she needed him now. If she was doing these things then even if she denied it, she needed her parents right now.

And besides, he had to find Brigitte. If Brigitte was missing and Ginger, the way she was right now, was after her, then Brigitte would need someone who was rational on her side.

"Alright," Henry said finally, "Alright, Ginger. You win. I'll go with you."

Ginger snickered, pleased. "Good man," she said. She then turned to Pamela. "You can set the house on fire now, mom."

Pamela was hesitant, not liking that Henry was coming with them, but nodded and went to the house, pulling out some matches and Henry looked on with horror as his wife of many, many years, set the house where Henry and Pamela had raised Ginger and Brigitte, on fire.

Henry heard Ginger's laughter as the white-haired werewolf growled, "Now to go find Jason."

Henry had no idea who "Jason" was, but soon enough, he, Pamela and many of their things, were packed up into the back of a van that smelled of weed and blood, with Sam and Ginger in the front seat, and were driving away from the bonfire that was their house and garage, and driving down the road.

(Page break)

Almost on the other side of town, a teenager of seventeen, named Jason McCardy, was walking next to the road, dazed and out of it. He had been walking now for up to almost four hours. He was hungry and thirsty. But so dazed that he couldn't for the life of him, think to go get any food or water.

He had pulled that syringe out of his neck and had tossed it away, but whatever was in it, had worked, because Jason couldn't feel whatever was affecting him before, affecting him now. He didn't feel the need to eat things alive, or tear things open or be bathed in the blood of living things anymore.

At least not right now.

Now he was just confused.

Because what the fuck had happened to him? Ginger had fucked him and he had peed blood, had felt the need to kill. Felt the need to rip and tear and devour.

He had no explanation…except for an insane one.

That he was turning before into a werewolf.

That had to have been it. And the syringe that the scrawny Fitz sister had injected into him had been what? A cure? Jason snorted. He hoped not. He had liked feeling like that. Feeling powerful. Feeling like he could tear anything open if he wanted to. Being able to do what he wanted to do.

But if he was "cured" now? Jason grumbled, "Fucking Fitzgerald bitch."

Because fuck both those bitches.

He needed to find Ginger, see if he could get her to do what she did to him again. Or even just to get her to bite him.

Anything to get that power back.

But he didn't even know where he was going. He was sure that his home was far from here, but he couldn't gather his thoughts enough to be able to figure out how to get there. He was just so confused right now.

He heard a large vehicle come to a stop right alongside where he was walking.

"Hey, there, buddy," a female voice called out, and Jason turned his head, woozy, looking at who had just spoken.

There was a big, black pickup truck, with two people in the front seat. A woman-no, a girl, at the driver's seat and a man in the passenger's side seat. Both of them young looking. Jason was going to guess the man was a few years older than him. And the girl? Well, Jason had to wonder if she was even old enough to have a license.

The girl who had spoken asked, peering out of the cab of the truck at him, smiling, "Wanna ride?"

Now, while Jason had always been told by his parents to never take rides from strangers, he was almost a fucking grown-ass adult. So, he could handle himself. And as exhausted and disorganized as he was right now, Jason wasn't scared of a couple of losers in a truck.

He nodded to them. He said, "Yeah, sure, thanks. I think….I think it's on the other side of town."

"You think?" The girl asked, smirking, and Jason took in her appearance. Young girl of what he would guess was sixteen, seventeen or eighteen at the oldest, with tied back, black hair, and a round, confident face.

"Yeah," Jason chuckled tiredly, eyes darting to the man who appeared to be in his twenties, "I think. It's by Oak Street."

The girl in the driver's seat nodded. "Good enough," she answered.

The man, who had very cut short, light blonde hair and dark green eyes, gestured to the back of the truck. "Get in, bud."

Jason nodded and tiredly got to the pickup truck's trunk and climbed up into it. Thankfully the back of the truck was empty, so he had plenty of room to scoot back to the cab and lean back against it.

"Comfortable back there?" The girl asked Jason.

Jason yelled back that he was and the girl began driving.

It wasn't until several minutes later, when even in his very tired state, Jason noticed something rather disconcerting. Which was that the truck had driven far from the direction of his home. Not near Oak Street. In the opposite direction. When at last Jason realized this, and he caught sight of a nearby sign, he noticed that they were passing by "Brooke Avenue."

An avenue that was nowhere near the street, Oak Street, that was just a block from his house.

"What the hell?!" He yelled, as they passed Brooke Avenue, "Where the fuck are we going?!"

"Oh, nowhere," the man answered, as the door opened and the truck began to slow down, "Just off to your grave."

Jason heard that and his breath was caught in his throat. He tried to get out of the pickup's trunk, but something happened disturbingly fast.

The door of the driver's side of the truck, opened up, and the girl who had been behind the wheel of the vehicle, jumped out and leapt right out of the cab, and landed right in the back of the truck, standing over Jason, her mouth parting, fangs now showing in her mouth.

Jason screamed, shaking as he stared up at the girl towering over him.

"Ahhh!" The girl mimicked, laughing, "Scream, bitch, because that's all you can do!" The girl then reached her left hand up to her eyes, her index and middle finger touching her eyes and pulling away and it was then that Jason realized she had been wearing contacts. Because even with only the small bits of light they had from the lampposts arching overhead and giving off small patches of orange light, Jason could see, now that the contacts were out of the girl's eyes, he was staring right up into a pair of very familiar white eyes.

"Oh, fuck," Jason whimpered, realizing immediately what this girl was-or he had a guess, anyway.

"That's right, pup," the girl sneered, even if she must have been younger than Jason himself was, "Your time is up. We don't like it when loose ends are running around. And you, McCardy, are a loose end, if I ever saw one. Now, then, answers."

"A-answers?" Jason asked, feeling ashamed as he stuttered.

"Yes, answers," the man said, reaching his arm out as he came over to the trunk of the truck, his right arm clamping around Jason's neck in a choking motion, "Where is the beast that bit you? The one that made you into a werewolf. Where is it?"

Jason gasped at the steel grip around his throat, but he caught the information about what the man had just said. Werewolf. A werewolf, just like Jason had thought.

But the other thing the man had said, made Jason confused. "She didn't bite me," Jason said, sounding weirded out, "That wasn't what happened."

Clearly, something Jason had said confused the girl too, because she was no longer grinning, just frowning and cocking her head at him.

"'She?'" The girl asked, narrowing her eyes, "What do you mean? The thing that attacked you was a 'she?'"

Jason almost laughed, or would have, if not for the choking going on with his neck and the guy with his arm around Jason's throat. Well, Ginger hadn't exactly attacked him. "She didn't bite me," Jason said, "I mean, I could see her doing that, but she didn't bite me."

The girl stepped back, contemplating. She growled out, "Answer me this, McCardy, the reason why you became a werewolf, it was a girl? And she didn't bite you?"

"It was," Jason grumbled, figuring he better answer quickly if he wanted to get out of this, "And yeah, she didn't bite me."

At the snicker on Jason's lips, the girl must have understood, because she nodded. "So, you got infected that way," she said, "Fitting for you, I suppose, from the things I've heard about you. The girl, the one you slept with before this, was she different before she slept with you? Did she behave differently?"

Jason thought about that question and realized that yes, Ginger had acted differently. And he was sure it had to do with the werewolf infection.

"Yeah," he said, "She was. She was way less slutty, anyway."

The girl narrowed her eyes at Jason. She looked up at the man and said in an authoritarian voice, "Kenton."

This "Kenton" guy nodded behind Jason and squeezed Jason's throat more.

Jason gasped in pain, eyes bulging out of his head. "Wait, wait," he groaned, "I told you." His voice was strained as his throat was squeezed.

"You did," the girl said, "But I'm not sure if there's a point to letting you live. You're clearly a piece of trash. But here's the deal, we'll let you live on one condition."

Jason, who had been beating at the muscled arm around his throat, to no avail, desperately nodded, which was a difficult task, because of his physical position.

But thankfully, the girl saw him nod and she said, "Kenton, let up on him."

Kenton instantly stopped squeezing Jason's throat.

Jason gasped for breath but tried to ignore the lingering cold fear that he felt over Kenton not moving his arm from his victim's throat.

"Now," the girl said, "We'll let you live, if you tell me what this girl's name is and when this girl started acting differently."

Jason decided to give as quick of answers as he could to survive. "Ginger," he said desperately, "Ginger Fitzgerald. That's her name. And she started acting differently…..I don't know, okay?! I guess maybe a month and a half ago?"

The girl sighed, stepping back and she nodded. "Yeah," she said, "That adds up. Tell me, what do you know about this famous 'Beast of Bailey Downs?' How long has it been killing dogs in your town?"

Jason's eyes widened. Wait, the Beast of Bailey Downs? Fucking seriously?

"The Beast of Bailey Downs is a werewolf?" He asked, not quite believing it, even if it should have been obvious ages ago.

"No," the girl said, snorting at him, "It's just some dog or wolf that has rabies, and yet is also smart enough to stay out of sight. I can't believe humans are still so stupid."

Jason thought about that. That actually made sense.

"Answer the question," the girl snapped, making Jason flinch and he nodded again, answering, "Uh, the Beast of Bailey Downs has been around for, I think a few months. Several months."

The girl nodded. "And this 'Ginger,' she changed a month and a half ago?"

Jason suddenly understood what this girl was saying. His eyes grew huge. The Beast of Bailey Downs had made Ginger into a werewolf?!

He stared up at the girl. "Ginger was attacked by the Beast?" He asked, stunned.

A vulgar thought went through his mind. The thought was, (either that, or she fucked it.)

"That would be my guess," the girl answered, giving no indication she had suspected Jason's lowly thoughts, "Now, this Ginger? Where does she live?"

Jason swallowed and glanced up at the girl and said, "You want to find her? Fine. But you gotta bite me first."

At the girl's confused look, Jason said quickly, "I won't be a normal human again. I won't be a nobody again. You bite me and turn me into a werewolf, and I'll tell you where she lives."

Jason gasped, feeling the arm clenching around his throat, realizing that Kenton was about to kill him for his audacity.

Then the girl raised her hand and Kenton's squeezing ceased.

The girl had a smirk on her face and was looking at Jason now like he was the dumbest creature she had ever seen, but said, "Fine. Kenton, move your arm away."

Jason gasped in relief, feeling Jason pull his arm away from Jason's throat.

His relief wasn't long lasted. The girl swooped down and her teeth were out and she bit Jason. Right on his left shoulder, through his shirt, making blood pour out from the wound as she bit him hard.

Jason screamed and Kenton held him tightly as he squirmed in pain.

The girl tore her mouth away from Jason after she was satisfied and she stood over him again, blood dripping down her mouth, chin and neck.

"It's been done," the girl said, "Now, her location, boy."

Jason cringed, in agony, but whimpered, "Okay…okay. She's on Ford Street. And Beech. Be careful. She's really fucked up. And she has a younger sister that has this stuff in needles that can take away you being a werewolf."

"Good," the girl said, laughing, "Now, do you want to know the funniest part of all this? I didn't even need to bite you. That filthy monkswood that I can smell on you? it did nothing. The shit that was injected into you? It's only a temporary answer. You never stopped being a werewolf. You had me bite you for nothing."

Jason gasped, staring up at her, shocked, his pain, for now, forgotten. However, an arm wrapped around his neck again and he felt the arm squeezing, harder than before. Jason's eyes bulged as he stared up at the girl, gaping, pleading, as the pain from the bite she had given him pulsed with agony.

"Did we promise you we'd let you live?" The girl asked, smirking, the blood all over her lips and fangs making her look even more gruesome than before, "We lied. Kenton, finish him off."

Jason tried to struggle as he felt his throat being crushed by Kenton and the last thing he saw was that girl's devilish smile, before his throat was crushed to pieces under the weight of Kenton's muscled arm, and everything went black.

When both Kenton and his charge, Mary, heard the shattering sound of Jason's neck, they both stepped back and admired their handiwork.

"Get the tanks of gasoline," Mary ordered, "And the matches."

Kenton nodded, going back to the cab of the truck and pulling out two cans of gasoline and Mary leaned down, reached under Jason and flipped him out of the trunk, dropping him down onto the ground.

Kenton came over and spilled gasoline all over Jason's corpse, then put the gasoline cans back after they were emptied, grabbed the matches, struck a match and tossed it onto Jason's corpse and both of them grinned, watching as Jason's body went up in flames.

Mary then looked at Kenton. She ordered him, "We need to go to this Fitzgerald house. And find Ginger. And the younger sister." If the younger sister had access to monkswood and had used it recently, then clearly, this younger sister knew about werewolves too.

Kenton and Mary loaded back up into the pickup, Mary, put her contacts back in and they drove away, with the corpse burning behind them.

They drove all the way up to Beech and to Ford, only to find a startling sight.

Another fire.

A fire engulfing an entire house! They parked the pickup as they watched multiple police vehicles and fire trucks driving up.

They knew that no one would look too closely at them, and so, they wouldn't see all the blood on them. They were too preoccupied with the fire that was consuming the entire house in front of them and all the firetrucks and police vehicles in front of that house.

Even with the fire burning everything within the house? There were scents that lingered.

Oh, there were several new scents, with the presence of the fire fighters and the police officers, not to mention the nosy neighbors gathering around the property, wanting to gossip.

However, there were old scents that had faded.

However, scents that still lingered.

Five scents in all.

And three of these scents? Wreaked of werewolf.

One scent was male, and he smelled of wolf, definitely.

There were two female scents. One smelled like it had faded more recently than the other. The more recent scent that was beginning to fade, caught Mary's attention. It was a very, very vibrant, dominant scent.

Smelled of spices. It was almost a harsh scent in how overpowering it was.

Mary grimaced. Whoever this scent belonged to? She was guessing this Ginger Fitzgerald-she was a full werewolf now, and a dominant one.

She cursed mentally. Not what she wanted to smell.

This other female scent that had werewolf in it, was interesting too.

While not even close to as overpowering as the other scent was, it still had the smell of werewolf in it.

But this scent was….soothing.

Where the scent of who Mary presumed was Ginger, smelled like a burning fire, a fire that wished to destroy you, the smell of this other werewolf? This other female werewolf, felt almost like the warm waves of a calm, soothing ocean.

"You smell that, don't you?" She asked Kenton.

"I do," Kenton agreed, tilting his head, "Odd. Three werewolves. None of them smell familiar to me."

"Nor to me," Mary agreed, "I think we can assume that Richard has either left this town, or he's dead."

Kenton nodded.

Considering they hadn't heard anything about any dead dogs in any other town, it probably was safe to assume that Richard, the lycanthrope they had been hunting for months now, was dead. Or had gone into hiding.

But before he had, it looked like he had turned several people.

"Well," Mary said, "Isn't that just like him? Leaving a mess wherever he goes and not even staying around so that he can be yelled at for it."

Kenton nodded.

Mary sighed, "These new werewolves? We need to find them. Before they leak information. That boy, Jason, it was bad enough that he was infected. Clearly whoever this 'Ginger' is? She's careless."

"What about the other two werewolves?" Kenton asked, as Mary began to steer the truck away from the house as the hoses were pulled out from the firetrucks.

"The male?" Mary said, "I don't know. But the other female? That werewolf smell doesn't smell as old. She's been bitten or infected in some other way, recently. And that smell…it's calming," Mary's voice softened as she drove away from the burning house and all the people standing around it, gaping at it, "I hope we don't have to kill that one."

Mary and Kenton drove off, and decided that they'd contact the rest of their pack, and decide on what to do next. They would have to find Ginger and the others with her, soon.

Author's note

Finally updated, I know, shocking.

And if anyone's wondering about Ginger saying that she promised to kill Jason, was from a deleted scene in the movie, after Jason cornered Brigitte in the school closet. All of the deleted scenes from the movie will be mentioned here, except for the one where Pamela confesses to Trina's murder, since Pamela wouldn't have been in the position to go with Ginger, otherwise.

And for anyone wondering if this is a SamxBrigitte story…..you really are going to be disappointed if you're hoping for that.

Mary and Kenton are from an entirely different pack from where the werewolf that attacked Ginger came from. They've been actually hunting that werewolf; Richard, for a long time. He's dead now, since Sam's van did a number on him. But just explaining that, for anyone wondering.

Again, if you're hoping this will be SamxBrigitte, you're going to be severely disappointed.

Because the thing is, Ginger makes a great villain. And I felt like she was wasted on being used as such in only one movie and appearing as a hallucination in the next movie. So, I'm having her be a villain throughout the rest of this fic. Honestly, what's the point of having such a good villain like Ginger, if she's killed in the first movie and only shows up as hallucinations later?

And things are not going to go well for Sam later.

(Edited part of the note)

So, I just looked up Sam's age in the movie, soon after posting this chapter, and it turns out Sam is like twenty-three. I honestly thought he was supposed to be eighteen or something. So, knowing that now? Yeah, not sorry. Even without me having Ginger plan to kill Sam, there's no way I would ever put Sam and Brigitte together. Or Sam and Ginger together. Because that's really gross. Brigitte's fifteen and Ginger's sixteen. So, no.

It's bad enough that I'm having Brigitte's own biological sister having sexual intentions towards her. That's already really gross and uncomfortable.