I gritted my teeth as I struggled to hold a convulsing Brett on the medical table at the clinic. I was almost putting my full weight on his abdomen while Derek and Stiles struggled to maintain his shoulders. Brett was seizing uncontrollably with yellow foam spitting from his mouth. Derek was barely keeping his shoulder down on the table. Stiles was putting more strength into it and that was saying something.
"What the hell is happening to this kid?" Stiles demanded.
"He's been poisoned by a rare wolfsbane." Deaton explained hastily as he rushed around the clinic trying to find a cure before coming up to my right side to stand over Brett. "I need to make an incision and you need to hold him as still as possible." My eyes flashed red and canines elongated as I summoned my werewolf strength.
"Hey, Derek, how about a little werewolf strength?"
"Yeah, I'm not the only here with werewolf strength." Derek retorted, panting heavily with effort to hold Brett still.
"If you can't hold him still, the incision might kill him."
"If you can't do it, then get out of my way so I can." I snapped a little too bitterly at Derek. I shouldn't have snapped but we needed to hold Brett still for Deaton.
"I got it, Callana!" Derek barked over Brett's grunts. At the sound of my full name coming from my mate who never used it, my Alpha power reeled in and I lost focus. In that split second that I did lose focus, Brett overpowered us and shoved us all away from him, climbing off the table. I stumbled back a few steps and before I could retain him again, Peter walked up to the young werewolf and punched Brett in the jaw, knocking him out. Brett crumbled to the floor, unconscious. Peter's eyes were blazing electric blue before returning to their normal dark, cold teal color.
"I guess I still have a little werewolf strength myself." Peter muttered.
"Yeah, maybe more than a little." Peter just smirked at his nephew. I walked over to Derek and gripped his right forearm in my hands to examine three long scratches that weren't healing. Derek simply just yanked his arm out of my hands and pushed past me. His cold shoulder was like a brick to the heart.
"Hey, Doc, I don't think he's breathing." Stiles' voice pulled me from my sorrowful veil. I turned to look at him bending over Brett. Deaton moved to join him and took the chance to make an incision in his chest. As soon as Deaton began cutting, Brett started gasping for air and a cloud of yellow gas exited the cut. "Is he okay?"
"I think he'll be fine, but probably out for a while." Deaton answered. I glanced over at Derek who was standing off to the side observing his arm slowly healing. Brett started whispering something incoherently.
"Guys, can you hear that? I think he's saying something." I perked my ears to listen better.
"The sun. . . the moon. . . the truth. . . the sun. . . the moon. . . the truth. . . " Brett murmured repeatedly.
"Three things cannot long be hidden." Deaton said. "The sun, the moon and the truth. It's Buddhist."
"Satomi." Peter breathed.
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I spread my notebook out on my desk and pulled out my homework from last night. With everything going on, I was shocked that I could keep up on my homework. My mind was spinning trying to keep up with everything going on in my life. Stiles and Lydia were going to talk to Meredith with Parrish about the third cipher key to the dead pool. Scott was searching for Liam who mysteriously disappeared. He insisted that he would get Chris to help him and that he didn't need my help. Then, there was my personal life. My mate. My Derek who has been not only rapidly changing from werewolf to human but has been rapidly closing himself off from me. I tried hard to push through the fogginess of emotions and focus on algebra. Malia sat a couple seats in front of me. The bell rang and a voice whispered through the air.
"Malia." It whispered. Malia immediately began to look around, her coyote ears picking up the voice. She looked around the classroom once more before looking back down at her textbook. "Malia." She frantically began searching once more before packing up her belongings and rushing out of the classroom causing Mrs. Fleming to sigh irritability. "Malia." That third time helped me recognize the voice. I gathered up my things and followed Malia and found her speed walking down the hallway, looking around for the source of the voice.
"Malia!" I called after her. She stopped and spun around to face me, her brown hair flowing around her shoulders. "You can't just leave class like that."
"Don't you hear that?" Malia asked me frantically. I bit back a sigh and rolled my eyes.
"It's only Derek." Her brows furrowed as she looked at me with confusion. "Show yourself, Derek." Seconds later, Derek appeared on the top of the steps to my left with a green jersey in his hands. I inhaled deeply and immediately recognized Brett's scent. "What are you doing here, Derek?"
"I just need Malia's help." He said plainly. "I don't need—" He cut himself off and shut his mouth quickly, but I didn't need him to finish the sentence. I already knew what he was going to say.
"You don't need me?"
"I just need Malia. I need her help to find Satomi's pack. I need to find them and warn them about the dead pool."
"So, what do you need me for?" Malia inquired.
"I know a little something about this pack. They have a kind of secret meeting place in the woods. No one's spent more time in the woods of Beacon Hills than you."
"No way." I protested. "You're not taking her out of school to go on some wild goose chase. You want help, I'll go. We'll find the pack together."
"I don't need—"
"I got it the first time, Derek. You don't need me, you need her. Well, tough noodles, Derek."
"Calla," Malia said. I reluctantly looked over at her. "If I can help then let me help. He is right. I do know those woods better than anyone." I knew she was right and that he was right, but it didn't stop the envy creeping into my heart that my mate was choosing her help over mine. I was silent for a moment as I thought it over.
"Fine. But if you go, I go with you." My eyes snapped back over to Derek. "No argument."
"Fine." Derek huffed. "This is Brett's." He tossed the jersey to Malia and she got and balled it up in her hands. "Breathe it in."
"I'm not good at that yet." Malia stammered.
"Try it. I'll teach you." Malia glanced over at me and I nodded my agreement. "Focus on the different scents. Some are tied to identity. Others give off an emotion." Malia held the jersey up to her nose and inhaled deeply and slowly, closing her eyes to concentrate on the different scents. After inhaling a couple of times, she opened her eyes with determination lighting up her hazel eyes and I knew she had the scent.
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Derek drove about a couple of miles into the reserve before pulling off to the side of the road and shutting off the engine. We got out of the car and walked off the road and down the ravine into the woods with Malia in the lead, sniffing the air as she went. The leaves stirred and rustled, crackling underneath our feet as we went. It was bright, not too bright, with just a little bit of shade coming from the tree canopy above. The brown dying leaves stood out from the fresh green grass that wasn't covering by leaves yet. It smelled like sodden earth and oak.
"Their Alpha is a woman named Satomi." Derek informed us. "She's one of the oldest werewolves alive. And she's learned a lot."
"What does that mean?" Malia questioned him.
"She's a bitten werewolf. Learning control wasn't easy for her. She did something a long time ago that changed her. The quote is a mantra. Helps them with control." Malia stopped and looked towards Derek. I sniffed once and a smoky, bitter scent entered my nostrils. "What is it?"
"Gunpowder." My first instinct was to look to the ground for clues and spotted a shell casing sticking out from the sodden leaves. I bent down to pick it up and handed it to Derek who examined it with curiosity.
"If Brett's pack is out here, I don't think they're meeting. They're hiding."
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We spent hours in the woods searching for the pack but came up empty handed. After Malia couldn't catch a scent, I tried but failed as well. It was well past dark by the time we made it back to the car, exhausted and frustrated.
"I'm sorry." Malia told Derek as he climbed into the driver's seat with Malia in the passenger seat and me in the back.
"There's nothing to be sorry about, Malia." I assured her. "I couldn't even catch a scent."
"If they don't want to be found, then we're not going to find them." Derek muttered. "Some werewolves have an ability. A kind of mastery over their bodies where they can actually inhibit their scent."
"They can hide from other werewolves?" I asked, poking my head between the front seats to look at him.
"From anyone who's trying to find them."
"So that's why nobody knew about Brett." Malia said.
"Same with Demarco."
"Maybe we need to try something different. Maybe we need to think like Stiles."
"Like a hyperactive spaz?"
"Like a detective." I corrected him, getting Malia's idea. "If they're really Buddhists, then maybe instead of asking where werewolves hide, we should be asking. . ."
". . . Where would Buddhists hide." Malia finished. Derek stared out into space, his mouth slightly opened as he got lost in thought.
"When Buddha sat under the Bodhi tree, he looked to the east for enlightenment." He finally spoke.
"Is there some kind of eastern point in Beacon Hills?"
"Yeah. At Lookout Point." Derek had just put the car into drive when a loud roaring came from outside out in the distance. I stiffened, eyes wide, as I tried to place the howl. Malia turned and looked at me for an answer. Derek also turned but his look was more confusion than anything.
"What was that?"
"That sounded like Liam. Malia, stay here, help Derek. I'll meet up with you guys later. I have to go." Without waiting for a reply, I bolted out the car door and shifted before taking off through the woods. My paws kicked up leaves as I dodged around trees and leapt over fallen logs. Keep howling. Keep howling. Keep howling. The howl didn't sound in agony but in a plead and frustration. That only fueled my determination to follow the howl. The howl led me to an abandoned well in the middle of a clearing and I caught Liam's scent coming from the inside the well.
"Help!" Liam cried out. I phased and rushed to the edge of the well and leaned in. In a split second, I saw Liam slipping from the stony wall of the well as he was trying to climb up out of the hundred-foot drop. I quickly leaned as far as I could down the well and snatched his arm before he could fall back down into the well. I groaned as his dead weight strained my arm. Grunting, I tried heaving Liam up but was struggling to do so. In an instant, the weight was lessened, and Scott appeared next to me and started helping me pull Liam up and out of the well. Once Liam was back on solid ground, Scott took off his coat and handed it to me so I could cover myself before he returned his attention to Liam.
"You're okay, Liam." Scott pulled Liam into a bear hug and sighed with relief. "You're okay."
"Come on, Scott, let's get him to the clinic." I was lucky Scott was a good foot taller than. After zipping up his jacket, it covered all of me and I helped him get Liam to his feet and began walking him out of the woods.
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We stood at the medical table with Liam unconscious. Liam breathed heavily as Deaton cut open his chest to allow the wolfsbane toxin to escape Liam's system. Scott pressed his wrist to Liam's forehead and sighed in relief indicating that Liam's fever must already be going down. Standing in new clothes, having a stash of clothes her at the clinic, I gently and playfully bumped my shoulder into Scott.
"He's going to be okay." I whispered to him, trying to soother the worry and anxiety that was rolling of him in waves.
"I don't want to keep watching people die." Scott told me.
"I'm not sure you have much choice about that." Chris said, leaning against the counter with his arms over his chest.
"Maybe I do."
"That's a lot of burden to carry, Scott." Deaton warned him.
"I don't care. No one else dies. Everyone on that list. Everyone on that dead pool. It doesn't matter if they're wendigos, or werewolves, or whatever. I'm gonna save everyone." I leaned against him once more, sending warmth and determination energy into him.
"And I'll be right here beside you to help." I assured him.
WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW
Stiles, Scott and I sat on the floor in front of Scott's bed with a red duffle bag in the middle of us. Searching through Garrett's locker at school, Scott found the bag full of cash. Not knowing what to do in the moment, he lied to Liam saying that he didn't find anything in the locker and brought the cash to his house.
"You counted it yet?" Stiles asked.
"No." Scott whispered.
"We should probably count it." I said plainly, my hands gripping my knees with anticipation. Scott and Stiles turned the bag upside down and stacks of hundred-dollar bills fell out. Among the stacks was a cassette tape. Scott picked it up and on the front of it there was a sticker that said, PLAY ME. We all gave each other a look of worry.