There was only one person in Beacon Hills who might know where Derek and his friend-filled Hummer had gone and there was only one place that Mason had ever known to look for him.
Mason decided that selective memory on exactly how long Stiles had indicated he should keep the jeep was in order and soon pulled up in front of the animal clinic run by Dr. Alan Deaton. The jingle of the doorbell when he entered seemed obscenely cheery and mundane considering recent events.
Two people with small animals in hand and one woman with a large dog on a leash dotted the waiting room in chairs. Their bored looks and impatient glances at the clock emphasized that for most of Beacon Hills it was still business as usual.
That was a sobering thought and somewhat depressing. Mason wondered if it was because they'd already forgotten the tragic news they'd heard on the news of two missing teens recently or if it was because the populace of Beacon Hills was so accustomed to such things, and so much worse.
It wasn't so long ago that he, too, had been ignorant of the supernatural presence surrounding him, Mason reminded himself, despite the constant odd and horrible events happening all around. Now that he was in the know, he wondered how he could have thought it was anything other than what it was. He remembered how excited and awed he was and yes, even a little scared at first when he discovered the depth of Beacon Hills.
He wasn't sure if he envied the bored and fidgety soccer mom with the fluffy dog and the impatient man in a suit with his exotic parrot that the most inconvenient part of their day was a sick pet. Mason hadn't experienced the same losses and traumas as the rest of his friends, being the newest to the inner circle, but now that Liam was missing along with Scott he had as much to lose as any of them and they weren't going to brush him off as if he was inconsequential.
The only pet Mason had ever had was a gerbil when he was seven. The poor thing had lived too brief a life to benefit from Dr. Deaton's expertise. Mason had never had reason to be in the clinic or make Deaton's acquaintance until he'd found out about Liam's new dual nature and fallen in with Scott and his friends. Therefore he'd never been inside the clinic during daylight office hours or met the woman standing behind the desk watching him expectantly.
Mason had never considered the idea that Dr. Deaton might employ someone in the clinic other than Scott. Apparently, she wasn't part of their secretive inner circle because he'd never seen her around after hours.
"Can I help you?" the woman behind the front desk asked pleasantly. She gave him an obvious once-over, seeming slightly bemused that Mason didn't have a pet companion with him.
"Uh, yeah," Mason started, feeling slightly out of place in the brightly lit lobby waiting for Deaton's assistant to admit him. It was somewhat at odds with the urgency with which they usually sought out the vet. But then, Mason didn't know if his current mission counted as urgent. If there was any information to be had, he wasn't sure what he'd do with it. He hadn't been handed the task by anyone so he was flying solo and playing it by ear until the others got back. If, in fact, there was even anything for him to do.
"I need to see Dr. Deaton. Please."
The woman's brow furrowed, detecting something perhaps in his tone, or maybe just his lack of leashed companion, that this was no ordinary request.
"Is Dr. Deaton expecting you?"
Mason's mouth opened with no real plan of responding, but he was saved by the man himself appearing from the inner rooms behind his reluctant desk assistant. "It's okay, Marcie. I am expecting him, actually. Mason? " A subtle nod indicated an invitation to the back and Mason threw a weak smile toward Marcie as he walked through the counter boundary and beyond her and into Deaton's inner sanctum of treatment rooms, kennels, and storage.
"Mason?" Deaton asked as he shut the door for privacy. "Is there a problem? Is something wrong?"
"You mean aside from the many things that are already so very wrong?"
"Yes," Deaton answered back just as wryly. "Aside from that."
Mason sighed. "I'm trying to find Scott and Liam."
"Everyone is trying to find Scott and Liam."
"Yeah, but they're doing it without me. Liam's my best friend and I care about Scott too, you know. I have no plans to just sit here on my butt while my best friend is out there somewhere with serial killer monsters or something just because I don't have claws, fangs, or a baseball bat!" Mason inhaled deeply, surprised at his outburst. He had not expected to get so wound up. He had walked into the office feeling more investigative than indignant but it must have been brewing silently.
"Ah," Deaton responded a little too knowingly for Mason's patience. "I see".
"I can easily get a baseball bat, you know," Mason pointed out, calmer and a little sheepish.
"I don't doubt it," Deaton assured with a tiny smile."Did they give you a reason for leaving you behind?"
"Not a good one."
The vet's brows rose minutely but he silently gazed at Mason impassively and Mason realized he was waiting for a real answer and he sighed. "Supposedly so I could keep them updated on things happening here but that sounded lame even when they said it. They could call the sheriff for any updates."
"That easily?" Deaton asked.
"What do you mean?"
"I'm not often an active part of the battles Scott and his friends fight, but I know they are usually perilous. There is rarely time for frequent phone calls unless absolutely necessary. If they are fighting for their lives or the life of your best friend, don't you think it's best they know they can count on you to mind the store here while they do what is necessary wherever they are?"
"MInd the store? I'm minding the store?" Mason knew when he was being snowed but he did sort of like the sound of that. "That's not really why they left me here," he said, irritable, and plopped onto a round, wheeled stool.
"Have you thought that perhaps you were the most practical one to leave behind for the job? They could have told you to go home and wait for them."
Mason just sighed miserably.
Deaton seemed to be a man with little patience for teen angst dramas and began washing his hands and pulling a fresh set of disposable gloves from a box. "Mason, I have patients waiting to be seen. You're welcome to stay if you like but unless there's an emergency you need help with at the moment, I need to get back to my day job."
"Just...do you know where they went? Stiles and the others?"
"No, I don't."
Mason examined Deaton skeptically, a bit deflated. He knew they'd come to speak to him, looking for ideas before they'd left. The man was nothing if not mysterious and kept things close to the vest with a poker face to rival the best. If he didn't want Mason to know, Mason would get no hint from him.
"However," Deaton continued unexpectedly, "I did send them to an acquaintance of both myself and Scott that I thought might have heard something. Whether it is valuable or helpful or not remains to be seen but that might be the information they are following up on."
Mason waited, sensing that if he was too impatient Deaton would backtrack his vague offer. The man dried his hands then turned around to face Mason and slowly pulled his rubber gloves on. "There is another local Alpha by the name of Satomi Ito. She's quite old. She keeps her ear to the ground and knows many people. I didn't know that she would know anything, but she mentioned something a few weeks ago that made me wonder if it could be connected. I didn't think it would hurt to ask, in case it needed to be followed up on.."
Mason deflated. An alpha werewolf? "Great. So I'm supposed to just walk right up to an alpha and ask what she told Derek and Stiles before she kills and eats me?"
Deaton quirked an eyebrow. "I didn't say that. I'm simply telling you about her. What you do with the knowledge is up to you. It would be quite inappropriate for a member of Scott's pack to approach a neighboring alpha uninvited and without Scott's express intent. Especially a non-werewolf member. Which has probably never happened beforeā¦" Deaton trailed off in curious musing before he seemed to shake himself out of it. "However," the vet continued as Mason swiveled back and forth on his wheeled stool absently, "Scott is neither the typical person nor the typical Alpha. Doing things outside of the norm seems to be his MO."
Mason halted mid-swivel, sensing that Deaton was going somewhere with his thread that might be in Mason's favor. "But what about the other alpha?"
Deaton smiled. "Always smart to remember that not everyone thinks the way Scott does," Deaton said and Mason could swear he sounded almost proud. "Satomi is a protective alpha who cares for her pack. She will protect them. I don't advise you to visit her, as I don't know that she has any information for you that can help with what you need. I also don't advise you to not visit her, as I don't know what you're looking for. She probably won't kill you, as she has practiced Buddhism for many decades, as has the rest of her pack."
"So they're peaceful?"
Deaton shrugged. "They were yesterday. Today? Who knows. Things change when you are both a hunter and the hunted."
"Can you tell me where she is?" Mason asked excitedly. He stood up from the stool, ready to do something, anything, to feel more useful.
"No."
Mason paused in his readiness, unsure he'd heard correctly. He spun back to face Deaton, gaping. "Are you kidding me?'
"No," Deaton replied as if it should have been obvious. "I've told you her name and a little about her, only because she is a neighboring alpha who is an ally to us. She and Scott are on good terms. But I cannot give the location of an alpha to an individual, even a harmless teenage boy, who doesn't already know her location. Even if that boy is already considered part of the allied pack. If you don't already know where she is, there is either a reason, or that means you do not need to know."
"Are you freaking kidding me?!" Mason sputtered in anger and uncharacteristically gave the stool a kick that sent it wheeling across the room until it banged the far wall and ricocheted into a corner. "You practically spoon-fed me hints about this alpha that gave the others info about where they might find Liam and Scott just to dangle it in front of me and say you're not gonna tell me where to find her? What kind of sick, twisted game-"
"I never said you couldn't find her yourself."
"-what?"
"I said," Deaton repeated, "I never told you that you couldn't find her yourself. It's simply not ethical or politically worth risking an alliance for me to break a trust. However, there are ways for you to find out for yourself. For instance, didn't you once meet one of her pack, the Talbot boy, with whom Liam attended school previously?"
"Oh," Mason said somewhat dumbly after his small tirade. He was already ashamed. He prided himself on being the cooler head between himself and Liam and here he'd just had a Liam-worthy tantrum. "Right. Of course." Mason was getting excited again. Maybe this was going to happen after all.
"If you can find Satomi yourself, perhaps you will have earned an audience with her. If she will grant it. Just know that it doesn't come without risks."
Mason nodded solemnly. He understood that Deaton didn't just mean the possible harm to himself should the alpha take offense at his intrusion.
"Now let me get back to work," Deaton said, conveniently punctuated by a loud squawk from the parrot waiting in the front lobby. "Oh, and Mason," the man interrupted when Mason moved to exit the room. "In the future, the back door would be best used during the working hours, as well, for visits such as these. It's best to keep Marcie's curiosity at bay."
"Right. Got it," Mason agreed, somewhat embarrassed that hadn't thought of that himself. He gave Marcie a little wave on his way out and wondered what Deaton was going to tell her to satisfy her curiosity about his visit today.
It didn't matter. He had a mission now and thanks to Stiles he had a vehicle to use. He grinned and twirled the keys around his finger in satisfaction before he got into the jeep.
Inside the clinic, Deaton waited for several beats for Mason to leave before he pulled out his cell phone to make a call.
"But I don't see why you asked to see him," Liam fretted once again and he paced anxiously. "It's bad enough they drag you off whenever they want to and now you ask them to take you!"
"Would you just trust me?" Scott tried to calm him. If he'd known that telling Liam he'd asked for a meeting with Mr. Cross would induce so much anxiety in Liam he might have refrained from doing so but he'd thought it would help him to be prepared this time beforehand.
"I trust you, I just wish you'd tell me why," Liam pleaded.
"I will, but after. I want to talk to Mr. Cross first. In case it doesn't work out the way I plan."
"Can I go with you?"
"I don't think they'll let that happen, Liam," Scott said gently.
The distinct sounds of the heavy doors at the far end of the building scraping open and the distinct scent of fresh air drifting in interrupted anything Liam might have been about to respond.
"They're coming," Liam half-whispered unnecessarily.
It had become a regular occurrence for Scott to be taken from their small cell but it was always anxiety-inducing for Liam, no matter how Sccot tried to reduce the drama of it. Sometimes it was because Scott was being put into the ring and neither of them knew if he would return, and sometimes it was because Mr. Cross had decided he wanted to speak with Scott personally about some matter.
The problem was the men that came for him.
Some of them handled the job professionally. They came for Scott with the air of prison guards, bored but watchful, knowing he was dangerous and careful to do their job properly enough to minimize damage and make sure he got where he was supposed to be.
A couple of them, though, enjoyed their power. Sadistic was too mild a word for them, especially if they were unaccompanied by their more ethical colleagues. They often took a few moments to play with Scott, who would stand quietly at their command as they jabbed their electric batons through the cage or hurl verbal humiliations at him. Sometimes they got a little more brutal than that, but rarely brave enough to do so once they took him out of the cage. Scott stood still and endured the torture to protect Liam and they knew that. They couldn't guarantee he'd be as willing to behave so well, even restrained and tethered as usual, when taken out of range of his beta if provoked. Scott had made sure to insinuate such, if only vaguely. He didn't want to lay it on too thick, lest they decide to punish Liam instead just to prove a point.
"It's okay," Scott reassured Liam quickly, catching the scents he was familiar with by now. "It's not Dumb and Dumber," he said, referencing the main bullies by the nicknames they'd given them. "Trigger is with them, though, so try to control yourself, okay?"
Dumb and Dumber Scott could deal with. Trigger worried him. Trigger was the man who waited for the chance to do real harm. He didn't take much pleasure in the small hurts that healed quickly, the quick beatings that stressed Liam out but were over fast. He was the man that kept his hand ready, his mouth mostly shut and his eyes watchful, but his face always quirked at the wrong times. Little tics made Scott think that there was something going on inside his head that gave him more than one set of thoughts. Trigger wasn't just a bully, Scott feared, but something poisonous, and he was worried that when Trigger finally struck in the way he really wanted to, which he seemed more and more eager to do every day, it was going to be bad. Horribly bad.
Liam nodded and his anxiety was spiced with fear. Among many of the things they'd had the time to discuss in their cage had been their captor and his men. Liam had sensed the same wrongness about Trigger as Scott had and had admitted a heavy dose of fear of him, for which Scott not only didn't blame him but was somewhat grateful for. He didn't need Liam losing his temper at the man who was an unknown and a little fear would keep that from happening.
"Scott, just tell them you changed your mind," Liam whispered as the trio approached with their usual accouterment of transport for Scott.
Scott just winked encouragingly and patted Liam's shoulder and turned to face the incomers.
"The esteemed alpha has requested a meeting with Mr. Cross," one of the men, called Chatter because he liked to do exactly that, said sarcastically as he tossed the chains through the bars at Scott's feet. "Get dressed for your board meeting."
If he was expecting a reaction to his humor he was disappointed. Even his companions ignored him. Trigger was as quiet and watchful as ever and Bear, nicknamed simply because he was an overly large brutish man, simply rolled his eyes.
The boys knew the drill. Scott scooped up the pile of chains and cuffs and held them out to Liam, who took them with his usual distaste. Some of them had Scott's blood on them from previous trips after fights or moments with Dumb and Dumber. Scott always healed but the chains never got cleaned.
With ease now born of repeated practice, Liam quickly snapped each cuff in place and made sure it was as tight as expected. They would check. He'd learned the hard way that if it wasn't right, if he tried to give Scott any leeway for comfort that didn't suit their standards, Scott would only pay for it twofold and they would then make Liam do it again correctly. Iron cuffs on his ankles, on his wrists, and a thick iron collar around his neck. All infused with mountain ash and all joined to each other with lengths of chain to minimize his mobility.
They took no chances when taking Scott from the cage.
As always, Liam's eyes showed apologies when he reached up to put the heavy ring around Scott's neck and clicked the last lock. "Sorry," he whispered.
Scott just smiled at Liam, not wanting his beta to feel responsible.
"Are we ready for the prom yet?" Chatter asked impatiently. "You're the one asked to see th'man and he's busy. Unless you want him to change his mind I suggest you hurry it up."
Scott rolled his eyes at Liam then nodded his head toward the furthest corner of the cage, which wasn't that far at all given their small space, but it was the rule. When Scott was being removed from the cage, first Liam chained him up so the men didn't have to handle him, then Liam stepped back as far from the door as possible and sat cross-legged while it was opened so Scott could step through.
Scott endured the usual inspection - the men yanking on his iron collar to test it, checking his ankle shackles and the chain between them. Spinning him to check the wrists bound behind him, as well, and the tight waist chain holding his wrists tight to the small of his back. There was also a length of chain that ran from the neck shackle, down to his wrists, and from them down to the chain to the middle of the hobbling chain between his ankles. He wasn't sure what purpose that chain was supposed to serve but it was always included in the pile and they'd insisted that Liam add since the first time they'd shown him how to put the chains on.
The configuration had changed a little since a combatant had escaped at the last competition, though. Mr. Cross had insisted on slightly more restrictive restraints, hence his hands behind his back and held down.
As the cage clanged shut behind him and was locked and he began hobbling slowly between Chatter and Bear, Scott became aware that Trigger hung back. Against the rules, Scott threw a look over his shoulder and saw that the man was hovering in place around the cage door, eyes on Liam.
"Eyes forward, kid," Bear ordered, not unkindly.
Scott halted and dug in his feet when Bear gave him a gentle but firm push forward with a large hand. "I'm not going anywhere," Scott said firmly, "if he stays here with Liam."
Bear turned and followed Scott's eyes to the dark-haired man's odd smirk trained on Liam, who stared back at him with fear masked with a dare.
"Hey," Bear called. "What the hell, man? What are you doing?"
"I think I'm gonna hang back for a bit," Trigger said tonelessly, never taking his eyes off of Liam.
Scott growled low in his chest and Bear tensed, his hand tightening on his baton. His eyes flew to Chatter, over Scott's head.
"The hell you are," Chatter called. "Get your ass over here and help us with the alpha. That's what you came down here for. Rule number one, remember? Never be with the animals alone."
Trigger hesitated and Scott tensed, another growl growing. Bear put a large hand on Scott's chest and met his eyes in a way not one of them had bothered to do, ever. None of them had ever even spoken directly to either he or Liam unless it was a threat or an order or sarcastic jibes, let alone bothered to look directly at them as if they were worth notice. And now this man was meeting his eyes.
Conveying a message.
"Now," Bear snapped. "You can watch mid."
Trigger didn't reply but after a moment he slowly headed over as if it had been his idea and lit a cigarette on his way.
Scott shook his head. "How do I know he won't come back while I'm gone?"
"I'll make sure he won't," Bear answered. Scott, but Scott looked at him, unsure. None of these people had given him anything to show themselves trustworthy as of yet. "I promise."
Scott detected no lie. The man did plan to protect Liam for him while he was seeing Mr. Cross. If he could.
"Thank you," he said sincerely.
Apparently 'mid' meant the middle of the line, as Chatter again took point, with Scott in the middle in his restraints and Bear at the back. Trigger joined them and, as suggested, stood next to Scott as his mid guard.
Trigger was not so pleased and for good measure, as he took his place, he quickly pulled his baton out, activated it, and gave Scott a couple of brutal jolts that dropped him to his knees. Liam's distressed cries rang in his ears.
"You've broken formation," Trigger said blandly. "Never look back. Never turn around. Never step out of line. You know the rules. We might have to tell Mr. Cross about this. Get up."
Scott grunted to his feet, mud sticking to his clothes, still aching. Neither Chatter nor Bear intervened.
Scott turned forward and stood up straight and began hobble-walking.
Business as usual.
