Scent was the first awareness. Before Scott opened his eyes, before his brain could make sense of anything he might hear, before he registered what the hard surface under his back could be, scent was the first to kick in and begin sorting things into some kind of sense.
The very first thing that came to him was the dank quality of his surroundings. A combined odor of dampness and mustiness was almost overwhelmingly pervasive before he managed to dial it back. Once he had the suddenly awakened sense under control, he was able to detect other things, like a scent similar to the streets after a rain. Somehow that odor, while usually pleasant to him, added to the staleness instead. Immediately on the heels of that was the familiar scent of someone known to him but in his state of just-waking, Scott couldn't place it.
This awakening took seconds and before he'd processed everything his nose was telling him, the rest of his body followed suit. His eyes fought to open, sluggish in a way he'd hardly experienced since before the bite that changed his life. When the slits of his eyelids widened, he stared up at the crisscross of iron bars. Far above that, a shadowy ceiling. The light was thin, faded and shadowed. The dimness was such that he might not be able to see much at all without his enhanced wolf-sight.
His body was stiff but it was a stiffness that would be quickly relieved when he moved around and he turned his head slowly, expecting the sharp pain in his neck that flared up for a moment. His eyes caught movement in a corner and he stilled, peering with a predator's gaze until his brain caught up with what his senses were telling him.
Scott sat up quickly then, his stiffness already fading with unnatural speed.
"Liam?" Scott called, though there was no doubt.
The figure moved, angling from the shadows, and relief was evident in the younger boy's face when Scott stood up. Liam leaped to his feet.
"Scott! Thank God. I couldn't wake you up!"
"Well I'm awake now," he said unnecessarily. He tactfully chose not to comment on what looked suspiciously like the tracks of tears on Liam's dusty face. The younger boy was dressed only in shorts and a dark T-shirt, his feet clad in filthy socks that had probably been white not too long ago.
"You looked pretty bad. I didn't know what they'd done to you."
Following Liam's glance, Scott looked down at himself to see that he was wearing sweatpants but his feet and torso were bare. He was still dressed as he had been when he'd gone to bed, as Liam obviously was. The only tell-tale signs that anything was amiss was the sticky dried blood on one entire side of his head, pulling uncomfortably at his hair, and the streaks of blood decorating his chest and stomach and, he realized when he licked his lips, probably his face. The last signs of what had been a beating. He recalled, in flashes, bits and pieces of what had caused the faded injuries and winced in remembered agony. There was also a residual ache in the middle of his chest where he suddenly remembered being repeatedly shocked with an electric prod. That was what had ultimately caused his unconsciousness.
"I'm okay now," Scott assured Liam. "Where are we?"
Liam shook his head. "I don't know. I woke up here, like you. I haven't seen anyone."
"I can smell them though," Scott said, inhaling. Liam followed his example and his brow wrinkled as he caught scents he didn't know how to identify. Scott gave him an encouraging nod. "There are more people here, and close by. And other werewolves, too," he continued.
Scott looked around to discover that he and Liam were enclosed in what looked like nothing more than a cage. Three feet above his head were the iron bars he had first seen upon waking, and the same iron bars enclosed them on all four sides, the bottoms of which were embedded in the concrete floor. It defined a space of approximately fifteen by fifteen if he was guessing accurately.
Looking beyond the bars, trying to get an idea of their surroundings, it appeared to Scott that their cage was in a larger enclosed space, dusty with misuse. An old warehouse, maybe, or a factory of some sort. Despite the scents of others, he could neither see nor hear anyone else within their proximity.
He wondered how long he'd been out but it was impossible to tell what time of day or night it might through the filth-streaked windows far above. Many of them were broken but no light entered and he couldn't see the sky from the corner in which their cell was positioned.
On a whim, Scott strode forward to one corner of their enclosure and bent down, inspecting where the iron embedded the floor. He reached out, intending to test the hold the concrete had on the bars.
"Scott, wait!"
Scott paused at the warning and looked back at Liam expectantly.
"I think it's electrified," the younger werewolf explained. "I looked around after I woke up. Look."
Scott's eyes followed Liam's pointing finger to a corner at the top of the cage. There were cables and wires wrapped around the bars in no order Scott could make sense of, trailing off into the gloom. Peering closer and following them with his eyes, Scott saw that the wires wound their way into a metal box several feet away that was mounted on a concrete wall just beyond the bars of their cell.
"Did you try it?" Scott asked. He looked back at Liam just in time to catch his incredulous expression.
"No, I didn't try it," Liam scoffed. "I'm not exactly aching to fry myself."
Scott nodded. He hadn't really expected Liam to have done so. He figured he should test it himself, just in case. Maybe.
He eyed the bars and the cables dubiously and decided that under the circumstances he needed to know how strong their confinement was.
"Maybe it's a bluff," he suggested to Liam uncertainly. Liam didn't look convinced.
Scott took a deep breath. Then, with both hands, he quickly reached down to grasp the bars where they joined the cement floor, intending to see if there was any give.
The voltage was enough that before Scott closed his hands around the bars of his own accord, the electricity did it for him. His hands cramped and clenched around the bars while the amps thumped through him. His muscles tensed and his body stiffened. His heart thudded painfully for several seconds. Scott gave a guttural groan, unable to open his mouth to let out a more telling expression of pain and unable to quell the impulse; his eyes flashed red in reaction. Almost as suddenly as it began, it was over. Just as darkness began to crowd his vision, Scott's amp-stricken body convulsed and was thrown backward, where he landed hard on the damp cement.
"Scott!" Liam was at his side in an instant. "You okay?"
Scott groaned and sat up slowly. Any real damage was already healing but lingering pain caused twinges. His hands still sported burn marks that faded slowly. Liam offered a hand and helped him to his feet.
"So I guess they aren't bluffing," Liam said sardonically.
"Yeah," Scott grunted sheepishly. "Guess not."
"What do we do now?" Worry clouded Liam's eyes.
Scott shook his head and stared out into the shadows beyond their cage.
"We're here for a reason," he said grimly, finally looking at Liam. "Looks like we have to wait to find out what that is."
"I was afraid you were going to say that."
"I'm sure Liam's okay," Kira reassured Mason with a glance as she drove.
Mason nodded but kept his eyes forward.
"Maybe his phone died...or something," Kira attempted lamely.
Mason shrugged one shoulder. "Yeah. Maybe."
Kira bit her lip and focused on the street before her while the silence stretched awkwardly.
"What about Scott? Do you think Scott's really okay?" Mason asked suddenly. "The way Stiles described his room..."
Kira covered a wince by turning her head to check for traffic from the intersecting street she was crossing.
Stiles' description hadn't left much to the imagination. Most of it had seemed involuntary, a babble effect induced by his initial panic once he'd had everyone together and relayed what he knew. It was precious little, unfortunately.
Kira's offer to accompany Mason to pick up Liam hadn't been solely based on goodwill toward the younger teen. She'd struggled with Stiles' gory description of her missing boyfriend's bedroom. The last thing she needed was to see it in person. Her worry for Scott was at a record high and Kira couldn't imagine that seeing his blood-soaked bedroom could in any way help that. In fact, she wanted to stay about as far away from it as possible. If that meant doing something else while those with the noses went back to the scene to find a traceable scent then she'd make herself useful elsewhere. She couldn't help track, anyway.
She pondered on Mason's question – did she think Scott was okay?
Scott was resilient. He was tough and stubborn. He was an Alpha. The True Alpha. He'd faced worse and come out okay. She couldn't bear to consider the alternative.
"He has to be," she answered him simply.
Mason stared at her as if expecting more but if he was, he was disappointed. Silently, he turned his eyes back to the passenger side window as if the passing scenery held life's answers.
"There," he said eventually, pointing. "Turn right here. Liam's house is on that corner."
Kira followed Mason's directions and pulled up into the empty driveway, eyeing the home. Not quite on the same opulent scale as Lydia's family's home but not too modest. Kira reminded herself that Liam's stepfather was a doctor. She wondered what his mother's job was.
"I can get in," Mason announced as he opened his door, pulling Kira from her useless thoughts. "I know where they keep the spare. I'm not supposed to know," he laughed, "but sometimes when we want a movie marathon I sneak over late at night. We started that back in sixth grade. It's easier for me to sneak past my parents than it is for him so he showed me the best way to get in a long time ago. I always have to wait until after eleven, though, when his parents go up to bed. Then I can unlock the door and sneak up to his room. We don't really have to sneak so much now, though. That was mostly when we were kids."
Kira smiled at him as he led the way to the side of the house and to a back gate. She got the sense that his sudden desire to talk was from nerves. She understood; they hadn't even reached the back door yet and the house gave off a definite vibe of being unoccupied. If Liam wasn't there and they continued to be unable to reach him...what did that mean? Was there a connection? Two of their friends missing instead of one?
She tried to push down her unease. They had no evidence of that. What they had was a teenage boy not answering his phone. Well...a teenage werewolf not answering his phone. Even though they always tried to stay available since every time one of them turned around something was trying to kill them.
No, Kira told herself firmly once more. She followed Mason into the backdoor that he'd successfully unlocked. There is no reason to go there yet. Not until we know.
Kira paid little attention to the interior of the house as she followed Mason's lead, her thoughts on more important things than admiring interior decorating. The bottom floor was empty and quiet, no signs of anyone home and Kira fought a case of the chills. Less than a minute after entering the back door they followed the carpeted stairway to the second floor. Mason knew where he was going and Kira stayed on his heels, almost tripping over him at one point.
Despite that the house was cheerily furnished and almost obsessively clean she became more and more uneasy as they proceeded. She couldn't pinpoint why. It wasn't the sort of environment that lent anything to a creep factor but she couldn't deny the goosebumps raised on her arms.
Maybe it was just being in someone's home without them. Maybe even unlawfully. Were they breaking and entering? She wondered as Mason called out for Liam as they approached the end of the hall. She followed Mason toward what must be Liam's bedroom door. It sported a poster of a lacrosse player that Kira wouldn't recognize from any other. Was it breaking and entering if you had a key? That would just be entering. Was entering against the law?
"Oh…." Mason uttered when he pushed the door open and stepped through. He stopped after one step and Kira bumped into him. "Oh, no."
Kira peered around him and sucked in a quick breath.
"They got him, too," Mason croaked. His eyes shone bright with panic when he looked back at Kira. She put a hand on his arm, maybe to steady him but to steady herself just as much.
"We have to call the others," she announced, pulling out her cell phone. "And maybe the sheriff," she added softly, trying not to stare at the smears of blood that marred the window.
