Welcome to the next part of The Fox Amongst Wolves series! This part will be in third-person, unlike Playing With Fire, so you will get to see more of the insights of other characters. If you haven't read the interlude story Fire On Fire, I highly recommend it, so you can see what Sara and co. were up to between seasons 3b and 4. Anyway, I hope you like it!


"All my life I've been playing with fire

Set me free, that's my only desire

The time has come for me

The time to overcome and do what is right for the world to see"

Ashes of the Dawn by Dragonforce

Central California and northern Mexico didn't differ much in average temperature in early January, Sara noticed as she and Scott walked through the foreign town, but she couldn't say she appreciated the dryness of the air. With how much it rained in Beacon Hills and how used to rain she had gotten the few times she and her family had visited Japan, Sara admitted she was spoiled with rainfall, humidity, and moisture in general. Which left walking through the arid town verging on painful.

But it was necessary. The last thing she wanted to do the weekend after school started back up for the spring semester was driving down to Mexico for nearly ten hours to infiltrate a hunter compound in search of Derek, but that's where she found herself.

She couldn't help but think of the possibility that Derek wouldn't be with the hunters anyway. Why would the Calavera's want him? Peter, sure, Sara could understand taking Peter, but they didn't. Derek, on the other hand, had done nothing, especially after a semester of him helping take down a savage alpha pack, an annoying darach, and a psychotic nogitsune.

Whatever, Sara thought as she and Scott walked to the hunter compound that doubled as a nightclub. Odd choice for a front, but infinitely more interesting than most other business types.

The slight breeze brushed over her bare legs in the starry evening. Sara was annoyed that she allowed Lydia to dress her prior to the group splitting for the implementation for their plan, but considering Malia absolutely refused to let Lydia use her like a doll and Kira needed no help with her own eccentric attire, it left Sara to be Lydia's guinea pig with clothing now that Allison was no longer around. But Lydia could pry the bomber jacket from Sara's cold dead hands.

The pack had split into small groups to make their arrival less conspicuous. Sara and Scott would be arriving first, with Scott being the alpha and Sara being the one to keep his more nervous actions in check. Boyd, Kira, and Malia would be arriving soon after to have two groups canvassing the nightclub floor. And the last group to arrive would be Stiles and Lydia who would be the ones to seek out an audience with the head of the family.

Araya Calavera, Sara recalled her mother saying. Apparently, Talia had discussed the most prevalent hunter families at length with Tamae, and Araya had been the matriarch of the Calavera hunting family since before Sara had been born. Sara only hoped she could be reasoned with better than someone like Gerard.

As the nightclub came into view, Sara said, "Put your arm around me."

"What?" Scott asked, shocked.

Sara gave him a pointed look, raising an eyebrow. "A young American couple crossing the border for a good time?" Considering how close the town was to the US-Mexican border and how often underage American teenagers wanted to do something rebellious or interesting, it was the most plausible cover story and easy to implement, if Scott could handle not being awkward for five minutes.

She noticed his cheeks darken as he rubbed the back of his head. "Right, yeah," he said before awkwardly sliding his arm around her shoulders with a decent amount of space between them.

Objective failed. Awkward Scott McCall still in full force.

"Relax, Scotty. You're acting like I've got cooties or something." Sara wrapped her arm around his waist and pulled him closer, shaking her head. That got him to at least chuckle a bit as he heeded her words. It didn't take long for her to feel the tension leave his body, and at that point, it sort of felt. . . right.

"You have the tarot card, right?"

Sara double-checked by slipping her hand into her jacket pocket, feeling the stiff card nestled there. "Yep, but let me just say, the skull depiction doesn't exactly fill me with much confidence."

"Can you wait until we're at least inside before you start in with the pessimism?"

"Alright." Sara gave him a smile. "This is definitely going to work."

Scott rolled his eyes but refrained from speaking.

The two walked up to the entrance as a small group of four were passing by two bouncers. Sara pulled out the tarot card as she and Scott got close, and Scott told the bouncers, "Estamos aquí para la fiesta."

It was the first time Sara had ever heard him speak Spanish, and she was pleasantly surprised at hearing, what she assumed, was perfect pronunciation and even a bit of an accent. Considering his butchering of Japanese words, it was nice to know that didn't include Spanish as well.

The bouncer on the right nodded his head toward the camera, so Sara held the tarot card higher to show the camera. Then a few moments later, the door made an audible click sound, and the bouncers stepped aside to let them pass.

Scott thanked them in Spanish, and they passed through, pushing open the door which led to a short hallway with dim lights, red paper, and a carved wood door at the other end.

As the door shut behind them, leaving them in a dimly lit hall, Sara said, "So not foreboding."

"Sara," Scott groaned quietly.

"What?" she asked, shrugging. "I waited until we were inside, just as you requested." They started walking down the hall. "When'd you learn Spanish?"

Since he hadn't extracted his arm from her shoulders, she felt him shrug. "Kind of had to learn as a kid if I wanted to talk to my grandparents," he explained. "And it was an easy A in middle school Spanish class."

"You should speak it more often," Sara said as they reached the door, the wood rattling from the heavy thumping of music on the other side.

Scott looked over at Sara when they stopped in front of the door. "Why?"

"Well, for one, speaking more than one language has multiple benefits, like better multitasking and memory and more job opportunities." Sara paused. "But also, it's extremely attractive."

"Oh," he said with a small voice, slowly nodding.

Sara spotted the tell-tale dusting of embarrassment brush across his cheeks again and she grinned, knowing she got a rise out of him. Too easy, she couldn't help but think as she opened the door, leaving Scott to follow behind her. She didn't think she'd ever stop finding enjoyment from teasing the easiest teasable person she had ever met.

As they walked into the club, they were hit with the sound of heavy beats and the smell of alcohol and sweat. Not particularly pleasant yet all-around fun.

"Would you like to dance?" Scott asked, gesturing to the dance floor where dozens of sweaty young people were crowded. It reminded them of the Halloween party that Danny had thrown, though that time neither had body paint.

"I'm not really much of a dancer."

"Neither am I." He held out his hand for her to take. "Does it even count as dancing if we're just bopping to the beat?"

She considered it for a moment. "You make a good point." She took his hand, lacing her fingers with his. "As long as you're okay with us stepping on each other's toes."

Scott laughed and led her toward the dance floor, the two slowly being enveloped in the crowd as they went along with the beat in a mixture of swaying and jumping. It didn't take long for them to be shoved closer together by the other dancing bodies.

Sara took in a sharp breath as she fell against Scott after an accidental sharp jab to her mid-back. Scott caught her, setting his hands on her hips to help her.

"Sorry," she said, breathless and wide-eyed.

He hardly heard her over the loud music and blurted, "I don't mind."

The words were reminiscent of their time in Allison's closet when they were hiding from Chris during the Darach crisis. Because I don't mind, she had said when Scott accidentally had a boner of all things during a time of panic. Whether it was a fear boner or him genuinely enjoying being pressed up against her in a tight space could be debated, at least in her mind.

It also didn't take long for either of them to forego any discomfort or awkwardness at the proximity. Or Scott's hands on her waist. Or Sara's hands on his chest and neck. A few seconds ticked by as they looked at each other, unsure of what to do until both came to the realization that neither were pulling away nor uncomfortable with the position. So, they began going along with the music again.

The beat pounded through their pulses as they danced together, the air around them warm and electrified. Despite the chaos around them, they could feel every minor touch and brush of their skin, hear every audible breath.

It was the most fun they had had in what felt like ages.

Then the brief thought of what could've been on that Halloween night flashed through both their minds, the almost-kiss on the rooftop along with the thought of them not even being together and just being friends. Once those thoughts flitted through, the ease of the situation fractured into awkwardness again, and they both pulled away, avoiding each other's gazes.

"Uh, I'm going to get a drink," Sara said over the music, jutting her thumb toward the bar. "You want something?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you're getting is fine," Scott stumbled, unsure of what else to say.

"Great."

Sara moved swiftly through the dancing bodies to the bar, ordered two drinks from the bartender, and took the waiting time to silently scold herself. A week of her and Brett no longer being in a sexual relationship and she practically throws herself at Scott. Damn, she felt like a whore. Three guys in the span of less than one school year felt a bit much to her considering the pool of people she talked to. Playfully teasing Scott by making him blush was something she had been doing for a long time, but that was nothing compared to whatever they were doing while dancing.

None of that was friendly. That wasn't what friends do. They were friends. Just friends. That's it.

She repeated it to herself over and over despite the pervasive words of both Lydia and Stiles creeping into her mind.

Your type is attractive werewolves.

Let it come naturally. Maybe something will surprise you.

They weren't even next to her, and she still wanted to tell them to shut up. Or slap them upside the head. She was still working on her violent tendencies. But remembering the almost-kiss on the roof of Derek's loft also didn't help. The almost-kiss that she hadn't told anyone about, not even Lydia or Kira.

Sara needed her own brain to shut up. They were in the middle of a nightclub in a foreign country to look for Derek in the clutches of a renowned hunter family. She needed to focus.

Then it reminded her of when she first started liking Isaac while he was still human. Her mom said something about how they'd be cute together and he was a good boy then Sara began overthinking about it constantly until she started having feelings. Remembering dancing with Isaac at that one underground concert and knowing the one with Scott felt infinitely more natural also made her want to tear her hair out.

But no, she refused to let it happen again. She and Scott were friends. Just friends. That's all they were going to be. Ever.

Denial, Stiles' voice sing-songed in her mind.

I hate you, Stiles, she thought.

"Here you go," the bartender said, setting two palomas down. His accent reminded her of the accent she heard from Scott when he spoke Spanish which didn't help her thought process.

"Arigatō—" Sara winced, pulled a face, then said, "Ah, gracias," as she set cash on the counter.

The bartender simply laughed and replied, "De nada." He grabbed the cash and left her to her own devices.

Sara picked up the drinks and made her way back to Scott who had migrated off the dance floor and over to one of the pillars near some couches.

He took the glass from her with a smile and said, "Thanks." Sara accidentally let a sigh loose which confused him, making him think he may have done something wrong, which may or may not include what happened on the dance floor, so he worried about asking but still did so anyway. "What is it?"

"Just three 'thank you's in three languages in thirty seconds," she said, rolling her eyes at herself. "I said 'arigatō' to the bartender before saying 'gracias.' I'm probably going to be thinking about it for the next five years." Scott tried to bite back the amused grin, but it didn't work, so he tried to hide it behind the drink as he took a sip, but she clearly noticed. "Shut up."

"I didn't say anything."

"Your face did." Sara took a sip as he chuckled. Then she asked, "Have you seen them arrive yet?"

"Yeah, while you were at the bar," Scott answered. "Malia's dancing. Boyd and Kira are lounging across the room."

"So, now we wait then." Sara refrained from looking around for them as they moved to sit down on the nearest couch.

It took another half hour before Stiles and Lydia walked into the club, standing out immensely as they both looked underdressed, uncomfortable, and simply out of place as they inched over to the bar, trying to avoid being touched by sweaty dancing bodies. Scott and Sara tried their best to watch them, but they lost contact quickly and hoped they would be fine.

Instead, they would wait until Scott heard something from the guards as he began listening closely with his wolf-hearing.

Before long, Sara and Scott watched Stiles and Lydia be escorted by a gruff-looking man out of the room and down a hallway, deeper into the building and away from prying eyes. They could only hope that the plan was going well and would continue to go well, but Scott avoided saying anything about it, knowing Sara would only say something pessimistic or sarcastic.

Then Scott visibly stiffened, gripping the empty glass tight, and Sara leaned closer, asking, "What's wrong?"

"They're looking for us," he said.

"So, they're not taking the deal."

He nodded and reached out for her glass, intending to set them aside so they could go searching for the hunters or gather their friends, but Sara held it out of reach and moved closer to him, leaning against his side. Scott looked at her oddly, not minding her moving closer but also being curious at her reasoning.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Just pay attention to me, alright?" she said. "Running off will draw attention and bring more hunters than we need in front of all these people. Let them come to us. We're already in the back corner."

Scott slowly nodded, agreeing with her assessment of the situation, and noticed how the hunters, who were obvious to spot, were all in singles or pairs as they fanned out across the room.

They weaved through the dancing bodies as they searched for the pack, most staying on or around the dance floor.

Except one.

A lone, young male hunter was walking along the outer edge of couches on their side of the room, a hand settled on his hip where a gun was holstered. Scott set a hand on Sara's in silent warning when he noticed the hunter walking toward them, coming from behind Sara.

The moment Scott moved to take care of the hunter, Sara was too fast for him, jumping up to hit the hunter in the trachea then the back of the head, letting the hunter crumple to the floor in front of the still-seated Scott before either he or the hunter could register what was happening and react.

Sara looked down at Scott. He also didn't seem remotely surprised at her impulsive dash nor not allowing him to help.

"Sorry, you didn't want to be the one to take him down, did you?" she asked, setting a hand on her hip.

The corner of his mouth pricked up in mild amusement. "Let me get the next one?"

Sara was about to say something when the radio hooked on the belt of the unconscious hunter sparked to life, drawing their gazes.

"Nadie en la cantina," a voice said.

"Front door clear," another added.

"South clear."

When the line went silent for a few moments, a voice asked, "¿Norte?"

"I think we're North," Sara said, glancing at Scott, and he held out his hand, silently asking for the radio.

"¿Dónde está el norte?" the deep voice asked again as Sara plucked the radio from the belt and tossed it to Scott as he stood from the couch.

Scott pressed the button to talk and said, "Stiles, take ten off the table." He threw the radio to the side, it landing on the hard floor with a solid thunk.

Sara nodded slowly, a fake expression of intrigue spreading. "Simple, cold, I like it. Eight out of ten."

"Come on," Scott said, not entertaining it. "We need to find the others first." He waved his hand, and she followed him, disappointed that he didn't even crack a smile as they walked back to the dance floor.

They went around the main group of patrons to find Malia, Kira, and Boyd on the other side.

Before they drew too close, Sara's eyes zeroed in on Kira whipping a hunter in the face with her nunchaku followed closely by Boyd knocking one out with a simple hit to the head and Malia body-slamming one to the floor.

Sara, still looking at their friends, leaned closer to Scott and said, "I don't think they needed our help."

Scott smiled and replied, "You think?"

He then waved the three over, and the group left the hunters behind. Nearby, they entered the hall together, closing the door behind them then going deeper into the building to find either Derek or Stiles and Lydia, hoping they would find them without too much difficulty.

But after passing a few corners, gas began to filter through the vents. The three weres began stumbling and coughing after breathing in only once.

"Wolfsbane," Scott breathed out. "It's wolfsbane!" As he stumbled and coughed, Sara caught him. "Get out of here. Sara, Kira, get out of here!" He tried to push Sara away, but the wolfsbane had already begun to affect him. Not nearly as bad as Boyd and Malia though. It didn't matter anyway as Scott's futile attempt to get them to save themselves was in vain because neither intended to ever leave them behind.

Sara's eyes turned bright orange as she locked onto a hunter walking through the gas toward them. She lost sight of Kira being knocked out by the butt of a gun and disappearing beneath the wolfsbane gas, and Malia and Boyd had fallen as well.

Wolfsbane took longer to work on kitsune compared to wolves, but her vision blurred as she attacked the nearest hunter, tossing him against the wall only to be electrocuted from behind by another one. She fell to the ground, the high voltage wreaking havoc on her system made to combat flames.

"Sara, no," Scott wheezed out, on his hands and knees, eyes flickering red.

An older, female hunter stopped in front of him, smiling down. "Someone who has been an alpha only a few months should be more careful when facing a hunter of forty years," she said, clueing him into her being Araya, the matriarch of the Calavera family.

"All we want is Derek," Scott said, growing weaker by the second but trying his best to push through the wolfsbane poison his lungs. He didn't miss the feeling of an oncoming asthma attack.

"Ay, lobito, you're a long way from home."

As he looked up at her, something about her expression didn't sit right with him. Her patronizing smile didn't quite reach her eyes in amusement as it was mixed with annoyance and frustration, just like her scent that he could hardly pick out through the wolfsbane seeping into his system.

The Calavera's had no reason to take Derek, especially now that he was no longer an alpha. And if they did, why not be open to negotiation? Or taunt him about what they were doing to him?

Then Scott realized, they didn't have Derek.

"You don't know where he is either," Scott blurted, struggling for air.

Araya lost her smile and jabbed his heart with the electrified baton, stunning him with a high voltage until his vision darkened, roaring as he passed out in unbearable pain.


Scott, Sara, Stiles, and Lydia gathered in the closed animal clinic after Scott called them there, informing him that Derek was missing and they needed to find him.

Sara was the first to arrive, the most displeased with Scott's announcement. She had found it odd that Derek hadn't attended Allison's funeral while Peter had, and that Derek didn't reply when she asked if he could help her with training Kira during one of their sessions. The answer finally presented itself. She only wished she had figured it out sooner before school was on the cusp of starting again. Scott tried to ease her mind and guilt, but he could only do so much, especially since she was still tense after Isaac's abrupt departure.

Once Stiles and Lydia arrived, Scott started in on the explanation.

"Okay, how long has it been?" Stiles asked.

"Weeks," Scott answered. "He hasn't gotten back to any of my texts."

"He didn't go to the funeral either," Sara added. "He should've been there, but he didn't reply to Riichi's text. Or mine asking for help with Kira's training."

"Has Derek ever returned anyone's texts?" Stiles asked, and he had a point. Derek was notorious for his 'lone wolf' front which included neglecting to respond to just about everyone.

"One, definitely once," Scott said, grabbing a metal can from the counter behind him.

Sara leaned on the exam table. "He usually gets back to me and Riichi, but we haven't heard from him since that night at the school."

She didn't need to clarify which night she meant. It was the only night she could be referring to. The night they faced the nogitsune, saving Stiles and the town while losing Aiden.

"This time it felt different," Scott continued, moving the conversation along so they wouldn't dwell on the difficult memories. They had a new problem to face. "I went to the loft. The alarm was on. Everything looked okay. But then, I found these."

He set the can on the table and took off the lid, showing the contents as a handful of bullet shells. Sara and Stiles both reached their hands inside to grab a casing and look at it closer. Where Stiles had no recollection of the skull engraving, Sara had heard of it.

"So, I sent a picture of it to Deaton," Scott explained. "He said that it's the mark of a family of hunters based out of Mexico."

"The Calavera's," Sara said.

Scott nodded. "Exactly."

"My mom told me when I was younger that she had almost been killed by a group of Calavera's in the twenties," she told them, tossing the bullet back into the can, hearing the metal clatter against each other. "They're not a family to underestimate."

"What would they want with Derek?" Lydia asked, worry creeping into her voice.

"You don't think they killed him, do you?" Stiles asked instead.

Scott visibly didn't have an answer, his expression pained and concerned. "I don't know." He looked at Lydia. "That's why you're here." He pushed the can in her direction.

Lydia grimaced as she gazed down at the can of bullet shells before running her hand along the rim, urging herself to get it over with. She reached in and pulled out all the shells, holding the cold metal in her warm, dainty hands. Then she dropped them, letting the shells hit the hard metal exam table.

The sound of gunshots echoed through her ears with each casing settling. The sound of Derek screaming accompanied the shots.

"Lydia, what is it?" Stiles asked, his voice distorted in her mind. "Is he dead?"

Sara sucked her breath in, waiting impatiently for her verdict.

"No. . ." But Lydia's voice trailed off as she stared at nothing. "But I'm not sure he's alive, either."

"What does that mean?" Scott asked.

"Like the bardo thing from a few weeks ago?" Sara pitched, hoping it wasn't another possession thing they had to worry about. "State between life and death?"

"I don't know," Lydia answered, slowly shaking her head as she tried to figure out what she was feeling. "There's something not right. I just. . . I don't know."

Stiles gritted his teeth, annoyed that it was never easy for them, then he asked, "So if the Calavera's have him, how do we find him?"

Scott picked up one of the bullets, tracing the skull engraving with his eyes. "Mexico."

What could they do? They had no other options if they wanted to figure out what happened to Derek. The Calavera's were their only lead.

The pack couldn't handle losing Derek on top of so recently losing Allison and Aiden to horrific deaths and Ethan and Aiden who left. Their numbers were dwindling. They were losing their friends. They needed to try something.

So, to Mexico it was.


So, there you have it! The first chapter and the pack is in the clutches of the Calavera's!