The engines roared through the night as the vehicle approached the fleeing figure. Long strands of wheat and grass brushed his leather suit, slowing the escape and making every breath more difficult than the last one.
Using the tractor's white lights to see the fields before him, Robin looked for his teammate. However, the only person present was the tractor's driver, pressing his shoe as hard as possible against the pedal.
"Could use a little help over here." The young hero muttered, forcing his black boots to move faster.
The yellow vehicle approached, its lifter casting a dark shadow over the young hero. Pulling the grappling gun out of his belt, Robin scanned his surroundings. A tree broke out of the monotonous harvest a few metres before him. Fastening his pace one last time, Robin cut left, running towards the tree.
Behind him, metal clattered with the landing of two heavy shoes. Moving in the night's shadows, a second young hero kneeled on the tractor's ceiling. His gloved hands closed around its edge before he jumped. Swinging through the air, his feet entered the windowless construction.
The tractor shook violently when the masked hero's feet successfully knocked the driver off his seat. However, the hooded driver soon recovered, pulling a knife out of his belt and drawing a big circle through the air with it.
The same second, Robin rose his grappling gun and fired. The metallic end wrapped itself around a branch, propelling him forward and out of danger.
Inside the tractor, the hero with a green fox printed on his chest, pulled two sais out of his belt.
"I honestly have more important things to do right now." He muttered to himself before attacking.
The tall, black-dressed man was no match for him. It only took a few well-placed strikes, some elegant dodges and one quick swing and the man fell.
"Mischief!" Robin shouted in his ear "Get out of there! Now!"
Not hesitating a second, Mischief did as he was told. Kicking the limp body out of the truck, he jumped out of the vehicle. Cold air and hard earth hit his body as he rolled on the field, softening his fall.
A second had barely passed when extreme heat hit his skin, forcing him to run for his life. A deafening crash followed, accompanying sudden brightness from the site of the explosion.
Mischief turned around. Flames consumed the tree's leaves and branched, reaching out from the metallic vehicle.
"When Nightwing said `create a distraction´," Mischief's eyes observed the dancing flames "I doubt he meant `get crushed under a tractor´."
Even though he hadn't heard, nor seen anything, he knew Robin had landed by his side. His suspicion was confirmed when his cousin stepped forward, crossing his arms.
"I wasn't crushed." He remarked while brushing dirt off his clothes "I had everything under control."
Mischief rose his eyebrows and started walking towards the faintly lit Victorian building across the fields "Yeah, because almost being crushed is so different from actually being crushed."
"Let's go." Robin ignored his comment and closed his hand around Mischief's suit before starting to pull him forward "It won't take long for them to find out something happened here."
Shaking himself off the black-caped boy, Mischief rose his eyebrows, perfectly aware of the smouldering heat behind him. The flames' brightness casting its shadows all around itself.
"No kidding." He answered, both shadows ran "I thought a gigantic explosion wouldn't get their attention at all."
Robin shook his head and continued running. Once they had left the crisping flames far behind them, Mischief's hand snapped up to his ear.
"Nightwing, have you found anything?" his voice was quiet while he scanned his surroundings to find cover.
"Negative." The frantic typing of keys accompanied Nightwing's voice "I'll need a couple more minutes."
Robin headed for a tree a couple of metres before them, cowering behind its shadow. Melting with the night's long and shifting shadows, both heroes observed the flaming spectacle metres before them. The night's harsh breeze pulled and pushed the fire, fuelling and empowering it.
"We can get you crushed by another tractor." Mischief commented, observing the distant silhouettes nearing the explosion.
The three farmers ran with hoses in their hands, aiming at the raging fire before them. The flames stretched far over their heads.
Meanwhile, Robin and Mischief remained in the exact same spot. Behind a tall tree, their silhouettes melted with the night's shadows, rendering them invisible.
After a couple of minutes, a black van, rusted and barely holding on to its colour, drove through the fields filled with purple and white flowers. Halting in front of the flames, the van's frontal wheels remained untouched on the earth beneath them while the vehicles other half swung an entire circle around them. The wheels screeched, making every present head snap in its direction.
From underneath the shadow, Mischief frowned "What's going on?"
His companion did not bother to respond. Moving quickly, he detached one part of the metallic band around his wrist. The drone approached the newly arrived van.
"Put this on." Robin offered Mischief a small, circular chip. Without asking why, he followed his cousin's example and plugged it into the ear unused by the coms.
Voices hit Mischief's ear. The marble-sized drone swarm over the farmer's heads, recording every one of their words.
Unaware of the equipment above, a tall woman stepped out of the driver's seat, her blonde hair swinging violently as she slammed the door shut.
"You had one job!" her icy blue eyes fell on the flinching farmers "Get me the wolfsbane and remain under the radar!"
She stepped towards the farmers, the yellow flames casting dancing shadows on her face.
"But you just go and set it aflame!" the woman's yelling stopped. She took in a deep breath "Now, what are you planning to do if anyone sees this? If the police or firemen show up?"
The farmers exchanged nervous glances, neither of the daring to speak. In fact, neither of them were able to speak, their lips and limbs trembling under the woman's cutting glance.
One of them, the one with military pants and red hair, stepped forward.
"Well, y'see, ma'am," his voice was a thin thread, ready to snap. "Ya order ain't ready. We was waitin' for tomorrow."
The woman's eyes turned into slits, almost as thin as the long scar across her face.
"That has nothing to do with your incompetence." she spat. The van's other door opened, a male shadow joining the woman. Firm as a rock, the woman's eyes didn't leave the farmer for a second "However, I do need a new shipment of wolfsbane sooner than expected. There's a— cargo I need to ship quickly."
At her words, Mischief's torso leaned unconsciously forward.
"What y'need, ma'am. » the red-headed nodded frantically. He pointed at the tallest of the farmers «Get 'er what she need, lad."
While the farmer nodded and pointed the woman's tanned and strongly built companion towards the right direction, Mischief turned to look at Robin.
"It has to be them." he nodded at the van "They are the ones that are buying the wolfsbane. Those are the hunters."
"I think those two do a lot more than just buy the wolfsbane." Robin answered, his gaze on the humbly dressed farmers "Aside from our truck-friend, I doubt any of the farmers know what they are planting here."
"If she offers enough money, they won't ask questions." Mischief agreed. "We have to put a tra—"
His words drowned out in his throat the second he spotted the third figure stepping out of the black van.
He was not dressed in black pants and jacket. His boots were not heavy and thick. Weapons coated in wolfsbane did not swing around its hips.
He wore a delicate coat, green as olives. He had grey hair, old as the art of assassination itself. Golden rings decorated his hands, stolen from the richest treasures in the world. Light reflected from gold on his hip, bouncing off the long sword.
"What the hell is he doing here?" Robin cursed underneath his breath.
Ra's Al Ghul's arms crossed behind his back as he stepped towards the farmers and joined the huntress' side.
"Ask them to hurry up, Bellisa." he calmly asked "We wouldn't want Queen B and our partners waiting too long for their shipment."
The huntress, Bellisa, smiled and bowed her head for just a second.
"I'm sure they won't." her eyebrows rose challengingly at the three farmers before her "You wouldn't disappoint us, would you?"
The moment the last word left her mouth, two of the farmers took off after their friend, heads lowered and rushing steps.
Ra's Al Ghul observed the flames, not moving a single muscle, sweating a single drop or showing the slightest discomfort. Shadows danced over his face.
"When will they be ready for Bialya?"
The woman turned around to face him "After I've got enough wolfsbane?" she shrugged "Four hours at most."
Robin and Mischief exchanged glances.
"We have to get Nightwing." Mischief glanced over his shoulder at the building "Now."
Robin's mouth opened, his response on the tip of his tongue. However, his answer was destined to remain unspoken.
For in that instant, Ra's Al Ghul made a step forward. A single step changing everything for the young heroes. Metal clang the moment his foot crushed the dirt.
The assassin frowned, stepping away and leaning down. His hands closed around the long metallic object, inspecting it carefully for a second before getting back on his feet.
A sai.
Mischief's hands snapped to his hips, seeking the comforting cold touch of the weapons that had joined his every mission since he was a child.
Only one of his hands found what it was looking for.
Eyes wide, he exchanged one quick glance with Robin.
"Shit." Mischief muttered, remembering how he had rolled on the ground to soften his fall.
Ra's Al Ghul's eyes rose and stared into the night's shadows, his hands still playing with the weapon he had found.
"Well," he spoke, knowing someone was listening "Looks like someone caused this fire after all."
The huntress inspected the sai for a moment before stepping threateningly close to the last remaining farmer. The red-headed man flinched, not daring to look her in the eye.
"Put security on high alert." Bellisa ordered and pointed at his chest "Get every single centimetre of that building and these fields inspected. I want whoever knows about our deal caught, got it?"
The man nodded frantically, taking off towards the main building before his head had stopped moving.
"Nightwing, get out of there." Mischief whispered, his eyes not leaving the two pacing and armed figures before him "The League of Assassins is somehow involved and— dammit… just get out of there before anyone sees you."
Hearing nothing but silence on the other end of the line, Mischief joined his cousin and observed Bellisa and Ra's Al Ghul. Like the morbid villains they were, both had pulled out their weapons. Ra's holding the unsheathed sable in his hands while Bellisa's grip was tightly closed around the handle of a short knife.
"Who the hell is she?" Robin asked, glancing down at the screen projected by his left wrist. His right hand typed on the holographic keyboard, dismissing and opening file after file within the same second "There is absolutely nothing about her in the League's database."
While Robin continued his search, Mischief observed the shadows. The drone had long left the air's security and, following Robin and Mischief's commands, wondered inside the black van.
Suddenly, a glaring alarm exploded behind the heroes. Their heads immediately snapped, heart racing as they observed the light behind every window turned on all at once. Shadows ran behind the windows, some racing their hands while others just sprinted.
"Great." Mischief turned to look at Ra's and Bellisa. With newly awakened interest, the criminals had started moving "Because things couldn't work out. Not once."
The screen before Robin disappeared within a heartbeat. Another second and his extended staff layed in his gloved hands.
"Nightwing will have enough to deal with inside." He stepped out of their cover "We'll have to keep these two off his back."
Mischief pulled his one sai out of his belt "Why am I not surprised?"
"You've got something that belongs to me." Mischief shouted over the crackling of fire and hurling wind between him and the criminals "Didn't your mom teach you stealing wasn't nice?"
Robin quickly glanced at his cousin, a deep frown marked over his face. However, his eyes returned to the green-caped assassin and the black-dressed huntress in front of them.
As soon as the young heroes stepped close enough, the Demon's eyes turned into thin slits, the grip around his sword tightening involuntarily. The sai forgotten between his hip and bejewelled belt.
"Oh, look what an underwhelming surprise." He stepped forward, his knees bent, and the sword raised "Two of the wannabe hero team."
At the same time, a black and anticipating smile spread over Bellisa's face "I don't know if I should be offended. I was hoping for The Justice League."
Robin and Mischief continued walking towards them until they were only few metres in front of the two criminals.
"Well, they usually don't waste their time with fake villains, you know?" Mischief asked, feeling his heart throb "If you want to get their attention, your gonna need to up your game, lady."
Robin's staff fizzled with energy as it hit the Demon's sword, halting it mid-air. Both parties fought for dominance, pushing their weapon as hard as they could in opposite directions. Ra's Al Ghul's face contorted before his strength outweighed Robin's.
However, the Wonder Boy did not let him win, dropping his stick from the duel, he rolled left, away from the sable's reach. The perfectly polished metal hit the dirt seconds after Robin had gotten out of its way.
The young hero kneeled a few metres away from the assassin. He thrusted two ninja-stars in Ra's Al Ghul's direction. Swinging his sword in the air, Ra's blocked the small weapons, sending them clattering to the ground.
"Is that all you've got?" he asked, stepping towards Robin with risen sword.
There was a metallic marble, a white gas and the spot where the young hero had stood was deserted. Ra's circled around his own axis, seeking the bugging teen.
A knife soaring through the air interrupted his search. The assassin had barely enough time to step back before the metallic weapon cut the air by his side, hitting the black van and remaining incrusted in its wall.
Mischief ducked a few metres before them.
"No kidding, lady." The masked teen said, "You are really serious with those knives."
Unaware of the assassin before him, Mischief's eyes continued glued on the long-haired lady who had (unfortunately) spotted her ally behind the young hero. Only a few steps and the assassin was right behind him his sword ready to strike and bathe in fresh blood.
The exact same moment, the black-caped shadow appeared in Ra's left side. Before he had enough time to divert his attention, the staff hit his back, sending agonizing current through his cape and body.
The Head of the Demon stepped backward, longing for Robin's blood. Yet, the young hero in red was not finished, his fist snapped up, successfully hitting the assassin's chin. Ra's fell to the ground in seconds.
Meanwhile, as Robin dissolved into darkness and Mischief dodged knives, a blonde, dark-skinned hunter observed the combatants from afar. By his side, four farmers with trembling hands packed box after box of wolfsbane in the back of the van.
The brown cartons piled up, sweet pollen filling the vehicle's inside. Bellisa's eyes glimpsed the silent movement. Only a second, she grinned at her accomplice before returning her attention to the masked boy in front of her. Behind the struggling pair, the fire had awakened again, roaring up at the sky.
A few minutes passed, enough to load the back of the truck. As soon as the last farmer let go of the last box, the hunter's hand raised to his ear.
"We're loaded." He whispred. Metres behind her, the struggling woman nodded between strikes, her gesture passing unnoticed by Mischief. A knife flew out of her hand, Ra's Al Ghul fell to the floor.
The hunter knew it was his moment to step in.
While Robin stepped around Ra's Al Ghul recovering figure, his stick tightly gripped around his hands, Mischief dodged the third knife Bellisa had pulled out of her belt.
No matter how hard he tried, he could not get near enough to attack. Not when he had to roll to the side and jump backwards every second, avoiding being chopped into pieces.
"Really, lady?" he asked when his backflip got him out of the fourth knife's range "Where are you pulling those knives from? Is there a magical pocket in your pants?"
Bellisa did not bother replying before sending the fifth knife on its way.
Mischief rolled to the side, landing on one of his knees. Having had enough, his hand snapped to the back of his belt, closing around a batarang.
A sudden wave of pain in the back of his back made the metallic weapon slide out of his hand. Black dots blurred his vision, the tall plants moving in circles around him. Before Mischief knew what had happened, two fists closed around the front of his suit, lifting him off the ground.
The young hero only glimpsed a shadow before his attacker thrusted him sideways. The air hurled inside his ears and hit his face as he cut through the air. Not knowing what was happening, his instincts kicked in, hand latching forward to soften the fall.
However, Mischief was not able to do anything against the earth's impact on his back. Sweltering heat hit Mischief in the face as he rolled through the field, unable to bring his body to a stop.
His left arm broke out in pain when the movement finally stopped, his chest resting on the ground. Giving in to his first instinct to get out of the agonizing heat immediately, Mischief tried to push his body up.
A heavy boot landed on his back, pushing him back down. Cold mud splashed over Mischief's face, his hand remaining motionless inside the raging fire. An image flashed behind Mischief's closed lids but disappeared as soon as it had come.
"Have I played my game up enough for you?" Bellisa's voice mocked above him.
Robin was landing from a backflip when he saw it happened behind Ra's shoulder. A tall, black-dressed bald hunter hitting Mischief in the back of his head.
A sudden flash of light made him jump aside to dodge Ra's strike. When his eyes landed again on his cousin, he was sprawled on the floor, too close to the raging fire, Bellisa loaming above him.
The second he was distracted, Ra's Al Ghul knew to take advantage of. His free hand snapped up, hitting The Boy Wonder in the face. Before he could recover, the Demon twisted the grip of his sword, hitting Robin's gut. In the blink of an eye, Robin joined Mischief on the floor.
Had the young heroes not been as lucky that night, the night might have ended that moment. Both on the ground, Ra's and Bellisa loaming over them with satisfaction written all over their faces.
However, an approaching shadow with a blue eagle printed on his chest was able to turn the tables.
The oldest bat ran through the field, his sight firmly set on the fire before him. The nearer he got, the clearer the silhouettes got. His family fighting with three taller figures. It was not long until he noticed the masked boys were on the ground, struggling to keep their hands up.
Within an instant, the instincts he had trained throughout his entire life kicked in, accompanied with a rush of adrenaline. Two ninja-stars soared through the air unnoticed, hitting their target.
Ra's Al Ghul's head shot back when the delicate silk he was wearing ripped open, the clean slash through his arm tainting the cloth with blood. Turning into slits, his eyes were quick to identify the approaching figure.
A couple of metres to his left, Bellisa's entire body had turned towards NIghtwing, frowning in curiosity at the tall hero.
Mischief grabbed the opportunity and rolled as far away from the fire as he could.
Meeting both his new opponent's eyes with a raised chin, Nightwing armed himself with his sticks, not slowing down for a second.
"Boss! Great One!" a shadow inside the driver's seat of the van shouted "We're ready. Let's go!"
Every movement halted on the fields, three pairs of eyes glancing into each other with cold calculation.
A smile as sweet as the devil spread over Bellisa's face "Maybe next time, sweetie."
They bolted. Before Nightwing could do anything to stop them, they had gotten inside the black van. Engines roaring, the only thing left was a shrinking black dot in the distance.
"None of it makes sense." Dick muttered, not moving his gaze from the transparent board in front of him"Why would the hunters be working with The League of Assassins?"
Sitting behind him, on the grey sofa, Tim's eyes remained glued to the screen projected in front of him. The small metallic holographic projector rested on the couch table, projecting a blue map of the entire states with a red dot moving in it.
Beside him, Stiles' glance was caught somewhere in between the map, the filled board behind him and the bandage he was trying to wrap around his left forearm. It would have been a lie to say his cousins were not aware of his occasional hisses of pain. However, they knew better and stopped themselves from commenting in every way.
"Ra's." Stiles' eyes remained on the board for a second, observing the red lines between pictures "He said something about Bialya."
Even though the three bat kids had restrained themselves from writing anything even closely related to The League and the team on the board since it was in the middle of Derek's living room, all three of them saw the connection at the same time.
"You think the hunters are working for The Light?" Tim asked, his eyes briefly leaving the hologram and brushing Stiles.
Said person wrapped the last few centimetres of cloth around his wounded skin "Or working with The Light. There is a connection, the question is which."
Turning around, Dick walked back to the sofa Stiles and Robin were sitting on, resting his hands on the rest. His eyes wondered through the messy apartment which had become their base of operations after Stiles had called them for help. Crumpled sheets and half-filled papers filled the couch and floor, accompanied by pictures and printed internet pages scattered through the entire apartment.
Dick glanced out of the window "They did welcome Black Manta in their squad recently." He shrugged "Who says they didn't make another addition to the team?"
"An addition that had the power to control werewolves and all sorts of shapeshifters." Stiles added.
"Which The League officially has no idea of." Tim turned his torso, leaning his elbow on the couch's rest "That might explain why Ra's was involved. But it doesn't tell us why The Light suddenly wanted to kidnap werewolves."
Dick looked over his shoulder at the filled board with nothing but unanswered questions "Or why they would choose this pack in particular."
"We also have no idea what happened to that Rodriguez pack." Tim commented, looking down at Mischief's notes "They might have gotten kidnapped, too. Or they might be working with the hunters."
"I don't think so." Stiles shook his head "The Rodriguez—they hated every hunter in the land. Made it very clear they should all be exterminated."
Tim rose an eyebrow "Well, another unanswered question, then."
Glancing at the red dot still in motion, Stiles picked his black phone from the table "If that van doesn't stop moving soon and we don't find them, I'm gonna have to come up with another excuse."
"That won't be necessary." Tim showed him a phone he had (apparently) been caring with him this entire time "I texted their parents. They got a message confirming your story a couple of hours ago."
Stiles' eyes brushed the screen, displaying all hacked device's information. At least one thing that night would not cause them additional trouble.
"I called Miss M." Dick changed the topic, looked at Stiles "We will need her help on this one. Her telepathic powers will alter the pack's perception, ensuring the safety of your identity."
Stiles' eyebrows rose "I thought you would try to stop me from going."
"I wanted to." Dick smiled and walked back to the board. His eyes landed on the improvised photographs of the missing teens "But who would I kid, I know there's no way you are going to stay here and rest your arm."
"Is she the only one coming with us?" Stiles couldn't help but ask.
Not facing him, Dick nodded "Yeah." He answered "Barbara will remain in Gotham and Mount Justice in case we need backup. Only if it is necessary. This whole supernatural thing—it was supposed to be your secret mission. Batman has never wanted anyone to find out."
Before Stiles could reply, Tim jumped on his feet.
"The point, guys." All eyes fell on the hologram "It stopped moving near Central City."
Scott pressed his ear as hard as he could against the cold wall, placing his index finger before his lips to bring the werewolves around him to silence. All at once, their pessimistic, frustrated and slightly aggressive chatter stopped.
"I want double security, now!" the woman they had come to know as Bellisa shouted from the other side "Those—kids are onto us and we can't afford them ruining our deal, get it?"
Muffled, intimidated voices answered, intelligible for Scott.
"Well, I don't give a damn." Bellisa cried again "We're accelerating the shipment. Get the wolfsbane processed within the next hour. The plane will be in the air in two hours, understood?"
With racing heartbeat, Scott stepped back. His wide eyes fell on the four betas in the same room as him. Jackson stared at him with crossed-arms, raising his eyebrows in spite of his blackened eye. Boyd leaned against one of the small white room's walls, staring at the floor. Only Erica and Isaac, both standing quietly in the middle of the empty room, leaned forward to hear what Scott had to say.
"Something happened." He said, staring at the metal door depriving them from liberty "They got wolfsbane and want to use it to—ship something in a plane."
"Something or someone?" Isaac asked, stepping closer. The stench of blood hit Scott's face, coming from his green shirt with newly acquired red circles.
Scott shook his head "I don't know."
Of course, Jackson used that moment to step in "Well, look at you McCall, not even able to eavesdrop on our kidnappers properly."
Taking a deep breath, Scott refused to let his crawls appear.
"My senses are still weak from the wolfsbane." He answered calmly "If you can do a better job, go ahead."
He pointed at the wall behind him, the wall they had found out, was not as soundproof as the hunters would have wanted it to be.
"What if they do ship us somewhere?" Boyd asked from the other side of the room, his gaze lowered "What are we going to do then?"
"We are not letting that happen." Scott immediately answered, "We are getting out of here."
Jackson walked towards him, his steps echoing though the utterly white walls around them.
"How are you planning on doing that, genius?" he asked, raised his shoulders inquisitively "What haven't we come up with in the last twenty-four hours we've been here?"
Scott shook his head "You don't know if it has been that long."
Jackson rolled his eyes, shook his head. Before they knew it, his back was sliding down the nearest wall. "Sure feels like it." he said once he landed on his butt "Face it, McCall, we're cosmically, royally, infinitively screwed."
Neither Scott nor any of the four present betas were counting the minutes that had passed. None of them were aware of the passing time. In fact, neither of them knew which day it was or the last time they had eaten.
Yet, when the door opened after they had eavesdropped on the huntress' conversation with her minors, they knew nothing good was going to come out of it.
Stepping through the closed mountain-ash circle behind the door, Bellisa and two other hunters stepped into the white room. As she walked forward, satisfied with the silence and lack of movement her arrival was welcomed with, she smiled. Behind her, a tall, dark-skinned man walked with a tablet in his hands. A tablet with five tidily placed syringes filled with white liquid.
"Now, things got a little—messy a couple of hours ago." Bellisa got straight to the point. "Which forces us to speed things up a little. So, wolves, I'm gonna spell this out for you as easily as I can."
The woman's face distorted in a false smile as she crossed her arms and rested her weight on one of her hips.
"You either let Bruno give you the shot." She pulled a black stick from her belt. A baton "Or things get ugly here. Your choice."
Not needing a word, all four betas gathered in the middle of the room, building a fortress able to withstand the storm headed their way. Shoulder next to shoulder, they melted into a single striking force, ready to strike back.
In the middle of the group, Scott frowned, observing the huntress with curiosity. However, before he could open his mouth, Erica stepped forward.
"Go to hell, bitch." She spat, looked down at the huntress' feet "You can try anything you want but we won't do a thing you say."
Bellisa looked down at her baton "I was hoping you would say that." She looked back at Bruno, then out of the completely opened door "Get the syringes ready and our friends ready to attack. This is going to be fun."
The moment another two long-coated men stepped into the room, Scott, Isaac, Erica, Boyd and Jackson exchanged a firm glance. The newcomers were not hunters. Long-sleeved garments decorated their bodies, silk and black wool hanging from their backs. Swords hung on their hips instead of guns. Dark cloths covered part of their faces.
Eyes flashed golden. Crawls burst out. Knees bent. The five betas observed the newcomers, not knowing what they were, but getting ready to do whatever was needed.
Which turned out not to be unnecessary.
For in that moment, the five syringes on the tablet floated up in the air like helium balloons. Everything seemed to stop as both parties, hunters and werewolves, followed the slowly rising plastic with their gazes. They wondered up before entering the vents.
Silence ruled over the room.
Until the metallic door slammed shut with a deafening clang.
All eyes jumped to the closed door, inevitably noticing the shadow beside it, placed exactly where it would have been able to hide while it was opened.
The masked boy leaning on the wall with crossed arms, gazed at the werewolves for just a second. Something familiar glittered in his eyes when they crossed with Scott's. Something that made Scott think of warm jokes and hidden amusement.
However, the boy with a green fox on his chest turned his attention to Bellisa within the next second.
"Haven't stepped up your game yet, as I see?" he asked, walking forward with the uttermost of calm. He pulled a sai from his belt "Isn't working too well for you, is it?"
The first hunter fell to the ground within seconds. It only took Mischief dodging a messy blow, his sai twisting in his grip and a quick strike.
Behind him, the man with the empty tablet in his hands only had time to turn around before a blue-hooded, green-skinned Martian crossed his path. With gleaming eyes, the Martian's cold psychic touch got found its way into his mind.
When his body joined the other hunters', her camouflage disappeared, exposing the unmasked hero to everyone present.
Realizing she was outmatched, Bellisa raced to the closed door. Fiddling inside her pockets to get the key out before running out at full speed.
Occupied with the two assassins before him, Mischief was only able to observe the metallic door opening and closing.
"Miss M." he said through the psychic link "She's getting away!"
Miss Martian was already on her way when the words left Mischief's mouth. Turning intangible, her figure disappeared through one of the white walls, chasing after the leader of this place.
"Already on it, Mischief." She answered "You get them out of there."
While Miss Martian glanced around the corridor, trying to find in which direction Bellisa had headed, Mischief held his place against the two assassins. Contrasting most of the security thugs he could easily disarm and beat, these two were two full-trained boulders of muscle.
For a brief second between two very close cuts, Mischief glanced at the paralyzed figures, staring at him wide-eyed from the middle of the room.
"Not to bother you but," he commented and dodged "Feel free to help at any moment."
Before Mischief could see or hear their response, a hand snapped around his throat, cutting off all the air from his lungs. Mischief trashed with his feet as he was lifted from the ground, fire spreading from his throat to his lungs.
In the blink of an eye, Mischief's legs swung up, closing around the assassin's neck. His arms soon joined, hooking themselves around his attacker's arm. The assassin's green eyes widened when Mischief's entire body twisted, the force of it pushing him off the ground.
Within seconds, the assassin's back crashed against the floor. It only took a quick punch and the man's eyes fell shut.
When Mischief looked up, his eyes found a firm Scott before him, determination marked on his face. Around him, Erica and Isaac circled the assassin. One fist clenched, his arm stroke. The last assassin fell to the ground with a loud thud.
Smiling, Mischief rose his eyebrows "That wasn't so hard now, was it?"
With four unconscious bodies scattered around the room and five very awakened werewolves before him, Mischief's eyes stayed on the latter ones. He could not help the relieved smile on his lips.
The long-haired blonde werewolf was the first one to step up. Raising her eyebrows, she inspected Mischief from head to toe. Her clothes were torn and dirty, tainted with blood. Her formerly black boots had turned into a mixture of grey and brown, the same shade as some strands of her hair. However, resting her weight on one hip, she still managed to look like a queen in that state.
Mischief stuffed the sai back in its place "You know, you guys sure have some mystical luck getting into trouble."
Jackson, as battered up and bloodied as Erica, shook his head "You are—?"
"Here to get you out." Mischief answered, stepping towards the opened door. With one quick motion, the grey line of ash was gone. The young hero turned around to look at the pack "My friends and I are, in fact."
Naturally, Scott was the next one to speak "Wait. You can't just—We need— Why-?"
Sighing, Mischief turned around and looked at one after the other, making sure each one of them knew he was taking.
"You'll get aswers." He answered with as much softness as he could "Just not now, okay? I need to get you out of here and…"
"We have to get Derek." Isaac intervened, stepping closer to Mischief.
"And Lydia." Jackson.
"And Allison." Scott.
Mischief rose his hands, trying to bring the approaching werewolves to calm down "My team and I will take care of everything, including finding the rest of your pack." He answered "But first, I need to get you out of here, okay? It won't be long until Bellisa informs her people about me. We need to go."
"Let us help you." Scott jumped in, approaching even further. Mischief thanked Miss Martian for getting into the pack's head before his entry. "Look for our pack, we can find them."
"While you're still half-dazed by the wolfsbane they gave you?" Mischief rose his eyebrows, shook his head "No. Trust us, this is not our first rescue mission. We will get you all out of here."
"Taking the betas to the rendez-vous point." Mischief's voice announced through the telepathic link "All of them are safe. We should arrive within the next ten minutes. What about you?"
Nightwing stared at the metallic devices before him, petrified. For the first time in a long time, not knowing what to say.
Miss Martian started speaking before he could tell the team about his discovery in the dark, shady room.
"I pursued Bellisa, but there has to be some sort of secret tunnels she escaped through." She replied "I'm heading for the second room, getting the rest of the pack out."
Beside him, Robin shifted in his spot, staring at the silver and red human-sized pods before him.
"We might have found something—" Nightwing halted, looking for the right words. "Something interesting. Robin and I will take a look at it and join you."
Inside a room in the warehouse's basement, the weak lights flickered above Nightwing and Robin. Both of them walked around the dusted storage room, their eyes on the six pods before them. The second their eyes had landed on the perfectly undusted devices, both had known what the metallic carcasses with glass and a screen on the front were for. Transporting humans.
"We still have to find the alpha and the two humans." Mischief reminded the team "It won't be long until alarm strikes and our options get limited."
Robin pulled a hand-sized device from his belt, positioning it over his opened palm and raising it above his head. A grid of light was projected by the device, illuminating only one fraction of the room. The laser-beams travelled through the room, acknowledging every single detail in that room.
Once he was finished, Robin glimpsed at the devise before stuffing it back where it belonged. "I've got a holographic picture of the place." He told Nightwing "Let's go, we can figure out what those things are later."
With clear lack of satisfaction written all over his face, Nightwing let his eyes wonder around the room before nodding. "Let's go."
The alarm pounded over the three girls' head when they stopped running behind a row of lockers. The black-haired teenager rested her palms on her knees, glancing at her strawberry-blond friend whose chest was raising and falling as fast as hers.
"You okay?" she stammered between breaths.
Lydia glanced a her for a minute and let her back fall against one of the lockers. Without saying a word, she nodded.
Seconds had passed when the green-skinned girl joined their side. After a quick glance to make sure the two humans were not harmed, she peeked around the row's corner. Her skin turned invisible. Racing steps and commanding voices rose echoed through the halls. Faces covered with cloth, and hips armed with knives tainted in wolfsbane filled the halls.
Miss Martian glanced at the warehouse's door behind them, knowing the small window of opportunity that was open right now would not remain that way for long. The only door leading to the outside would soon be visited.
"Hey, Miss Green," Lydia whispered behind her, her voice still shaking from the sprint after the alarm had started "Why aren't we running out of here?"
Miss Martian turned around to face her, her skin visible again. "My team is bringing your friends here. As soon as everyone is here, we get out of here together."
Frowning in the darkness of the locker room, Allison stepped forward. However, before she could say anything, a door in the other end of the room burst open. Quick and heavy steps entered the room followed by heavy breathings.
Even though the two girl's eyes widened and their hearts throbbed in their ears, Allison and Lydia managed to keep their bodies from making any sound, remaining as still as a rock. Miss Martian pulled her hood over her head, taking off from the ground.
"Miss Martian." A familiar voice spoke in her head "We made it. You here?"
A relieved smile appeared on the Martian's face. Letting her blue hood fall back on her shoulders, she floated out of the locker's row. Standing before him was a familiar figure with a fox printed on his chest. Behind him, the five betas breathed heavily after crossing the entire building.
Allison and Lydia were quick to follow her example and stepped out of the shadows. Allison's hand immediately snapped up to her face, trying to cover up the bright smile on her face.
"Oh, thank God." She whispered before running past Miss Martain and Mischief to jump into Scott's arms, wrapping hers around his neck. It did not take long for a kiss to happen.
At the same time, Lydia and Jackson stepped towards each other, holding each other in a tight embrace.
"Well, I guess there is no one here to have a heart-breaking reunion with me." Isaac muttered and sat down in one bench between lockers.
Erica walked over to his side, a smile hidden in her face while her eyes observed the two entangled couples "Calm the drama, you're not the only one."
Momentarily ignoring the happenings behind him, Mischief walked towards Miss Martian.
"Robin and Nightwing aren't here yet?" he asked through the link, not being able to hide his surprise.
Miss Martina shook her head, worried "No, I thought they were with you."
"They're not answering through the psychic link. I doubt they are listening to us right now. Something is off."
"Great." Miss Martian sighed "We can't risk anyone seeing us. It feels like the entire League of Assassin's joined the hunters. For whatever reason."
Behind them, Scott frowned as he observed the two figures in the shadows. Neither of them were talking, nor were they communicating in any sort of way, but their eyes firmly looking at each other told him something was going on. Something the pack was not aware of. It took a subtle pointing at them with his chin and the entire pack had them trapped under their gazes.
"Ehem." Isaac cleared his voice "What's going on?"
The two young heroes' heads snapped in their direction, exchanging one last quick glance. Miss Martian stepped forward.
"Half of our team is still inside the building." She explained "But we shouldn't risk staying here more time than necessary."
Mischief took a deep breath. For a second, just a second, Scott saw the spark in his eyes again. However, his eyes clouded before travelling through the entire locker room.
"Where's the alpha?" he asked, his voice suddenly dead serious.
Erica's eyes widened. "Isn't he who your team is looking for right now?"
Mischief's wide eyes turned to face Miss Martian "The files NIghtwing hacked only said the pack was being held in two different rooms."
Isaac's brows rose "You mean you have no idea where Derek is?"
Cursing under his breath, Mischief let his hands wonder through his hair.
"We need to find him." Scott stared at the heroes, his hands shaking with conviction "We'll split up, cover more ground."
"I am not working with those freaks!" Jackson stepped in, placing himself between the two heroes and the pack. He pointed at Mischief "They are wearing masks, in case you haven't noticed. People with good intentions usually don't wear masks!"
The tall werewolf scoffed "We have no idea who these people are or why they are helping us."
Within seconds, Allison had jumped out of Scott's side. "Are you for real?" she stared incredulous at Jackson "They are getting us out of here! Why the hell should we not trust them?"
The heat rose in the room, hearts beat faster. The air between the werewolves throbbing, only waiting for one of them to snap.
"Guys." Miss Martian got their attention "We told you we would explain everything later. Right now, we need to get you to safety."
"Oh, and now we are going to listen to an alien." Jackson answered and scoffed "Go back to your planet."
"Jackson!" Scott shouted.
"Hey!" Mischief stepped right before Jackson, having known deep down this would happen "This is not going to help finding your alpha, get it? You are still pumped with…"
What happened next would always remain in Mischief's head. Throughout his childhood, he had trained with Batman, fought the Joker, spied on Penguin. The acute danger he had faced wearing the mask had taught him to react within a heartbeat, to be ready for anything.
Thus, when Jackson's hand snapped up to close around his wrist, Mischief did not hesitate a second to jump into action. Closing both of his hands around the werewolf's arm, he twisted it backwards as far as he could without breaking it. Jackson hissed in pain. His chest crushed against the closed locker, inhibiting every attempt to escape from the young hero's grip.
If Mischief had not been too concentrated on his victim, he would have heard the small giggles behind him.
"Listen, wolfie." He spoke into his ear "We are here to get you out, whether you believe us or not. Part of the reason why we can't explain what is going on is because we don't know it ourselves. The question of how we know about you is going to have to bother you for a bit longer. Right now, we need to work together because your alpha as well as this squad's leader are somewhere lost inside that building, okay?"
He let go of Jackson's arm, stepping back to his position beside Miss Martian "These hunters are working with an organisation called The League of Assassins. As badass as you think you are, these people have trained their entire lives and I would not recommend underestimating them."
"Why?" Lydia asked, not specifying whether she meant the hunters working with the League of Assassins or the kidnapping.
"We don't know yet." Miss Martian answered.
Steps and clattering passed through the door Mischief and the werewolves had used to come to the room.
As soon as they quieted, Mischief looked each of the werewolves in the eye "Whatever it is they are planning, they need you for it. Which is why getting you out of here is our top priority."
"What about Derek?" Boyd asked.
"I'll go and look for him." Mischief answered "I'll look for him and our teammates. Meanwhile, Miss Martian will get you somewhere safe."
His eyes quickly glanced at the Martian "Get them to the bioship. Out of the two of us, you stand far better chances of getting them out safely should something happen. I'll report anything that happens."
Miss Martian nodded. "Be careful."
A soft smile brushed Mischief lips as he nodded back. His eyes fell on the werewolves and two humans before him.
"You need to do whatever she says. She is your ticket out of here. I'll get Derek." Something moved in his stomach when he pronounced the name.
"Will you make sure no one in here has any stupid ideas?" his eyes fell on Scott, knowing he was the one to trust.
Eyes as firm as steel stared back into his when the werewolf nodded. Just when Mischief was about to open the door and head out, when the pack and Miss Martian were right next to the opposite door, Scott turned around.
"You didn't tell us what your name is." He simply said.
Without turning around, Mischief smiled at the irony in those words. For once in his life, he answered that question with complete honesty.
"Mischief."
There was no sign, no sound, no warning that could have told Mischief what was about to happen. One moment he was swinging down from the vents, his outstretched hands still touching the cold metal above. The next he was crashing against the floor, barely missing one of the equipment-filled tables.
He only had seconds to inspect the dark room before the shadow was over him and a gigantic punch rained down on him. His head hit the ground hard and his tongue tasted iron.
Within a second, Mischief rolled underneath one of the filled desks and jumped on his feet, bringing a computer and many filled folders between him and his attacker.
Mischief barely had time to spit out the red liquid that had accumulated in his mouth before the attacker jumped at him again. Just in time, Mischief jumped on one of the tidily arranged working desks in the room and swung his leg upwards.
His boot hitting skin, he forced the figure to step backwards, using her hands to support herself on a desk to stop herself from falling.
Pulling his sai out of his belt, Mischief assessed his opponent. Her face was covered with a white mask stretching over her entire face. Aside from two holes in the eyes, the shape of a white nose and white lips, the mask was void. Dark curls ran down his attacker's shoulders, landing on a black hoodie.
A frown forged its way into Mischief's face when he realised Miss Mask had no weapon with her. She only needed an instant to recover and strike again, jumping on the same table as Mischief before trying to punch him in the face.
Her movements were so fast, Mischief barely had time to duck. Knowing he was in a clear disadvantage, he jumped to the table before him.
"Lady, relax, will you?" he tried to bide his time. She did not answer "You are neither a hunter, nor an assassin."
Her answer was to leap towards him. Mischief let himself fall flat on the table. Miss Mask flew in an arch above him and the table, landing two desks away.
"Fine, if that's how you want to play it." he muttered to himself before getting back on his feet.
Miss Masked appeared next to him, her fist falling on the desk Mischief had just vacated. The wooden structure crumbled with a loud crash underneath her force.
Behind the mask, the attacker frowned, not having seen where Mischief had gone. That second, the metallic marbles hit the back of her head, exploding. Disoriented, Miss Masked fell to the ground, stopping the fall with her hands.
Her hands grasped for one of the desk's edge. However, Mischief was already on the move. Two ninja stars soared through the air, encrusting themselves between the thick sleeve and the desk's wood.
Miss Masked struggled to free her hand with her entire might. However, she remained unsuccessful. Twisting her arm to get on her feet, she pulled one more time. The ninja stars did not give in.
"They've held Superboy himself for a couple of seconds." Mischief said, standing behind the desk "I doubt your strength comes anything close to his."
A growl escaped from beneath the mask. With one strong pull the hoodie's sleeve ripped off. Without thinking, Miss Masked jumped at Mischief who ducked. Not being able to stop her flight, she crashed against a cupboard on the wall.
The shelves rained down upon her when she landed on the floor. Mischief only swung his sai back and hit her temple.
His gaze rested on the buried figure beneath shelves and books for a second, making sure she did not move. When Mischief was sure she was unconscious, he sighed and ran his sleeve through his mouth.
He was not surprised when his lip stung, and warm liquid tainted his black glove.
Taking a deep breath, Mischief got on his knees. His curiosity getting the better of him. His gloved hands carefully turned the body around, laying it on its back. With the same care, his hands closed around the mask, removing it from his attacker's face.
"What the—?!" he let go of the mask as of it were poison the moment he saw the face beneath it.
His heart raced in his chest at hundred kilometres per hour. His hands shook, his eyes not being able to look away from the face before him.
"You were supposed to be the one on that floor." An unmistakable voice said behind him, lacking its usual cheer. The door slammed shut "But you really are a remarkable actor. Really made me believe you didn't know how to defend yourself."
Mischief spun around. Even though he had immediately known who that voice belonged to, he could not believe what he saw. Neither could he believe who the face behind the white mask was. Those black curls, the green behind the closed lids. Her speed, her strength.
Alice Rodriguez.
"Tell me, Stiles." Miguel crossed his arms and leaned against the door "Does Scott know you are playing superhero?"
The pounding alarm lost intensity the further away they got. Following Miss Martian's instructions, the werewolves and two humans had crawled through the electric fence's hole Nightwing had made.
Running behind Miss Martian's floating figure, the seven teens remained on course. At least, they did until a twig broke and someone cried out. Miss Martian immediately stopped her floating to glance back between the tall trees. East, a dim light started to emerge and illuminate the darkness. It would not be long until dawn.
"What happened?" the Martian asked, going back.
Between broken branches and half-decomposed trees, Lydia kneeled on the floor, trying to get on her feet as her breathing staggered. Beside her, Allison, her face as red as Lydia's, tried to help her get up. Jackson did the same thing on her other side.
"Lydia and Allison." Scott sais beside her "They aren't as fast as we are."
Leaning on Jackson's chest, the strawberry-blonde girl managed to stay on her feet. Meanwhile, Erica stepped forward, hooking her arm around Allison's.
Isaac looked at Miss Martian "We need to slow down."
"No." Miss Martian quickly replied "I need to get you to the bioship as soon as possible and go back there. The psychic link is broken which mean Mischief is now also in trouble. I can't—"
At those words, Lydia's figure straightened up a bit "Wait." She interrupted "Psychic link? That's how you were talking to each other inside the locker room."
All eyes stared at Miss Martian with something between astonishment and fear in them.
"Yeah." She nodded "And that's why we can't slow down."
The Martian's eyes gleamed green, Lydia and Allison's feet stopped touching the ground.
"I'll have to carry you with my telepathic powers."
However, before they could continue the path they had been heading, leaves rustled around them, quickly followed by an arrow soaring through the air. Acting out of instinct, Boyd threw himself over Miss Martian, tackling her to the ground. A surprised cry escaped Miss Martian's lips, seconds before a flaming arrow hit the tree behind her.
Her eyes inspected the slowly burning tree behind her. Miss Martian swallowed hard.
"Thanks." She nodded at Boyd as they both got on their feet. The boy only nodded as a response.
The pack and Miss Martian's eyes inspected the forest around them. Shadows started dropping from the trees. Silhouettes dressed in long cloaks, covering half of their faces with cloths.
It was only seconds and they were surrounded. Back to back, the pack and Miss Martian eyed their opponents.
"That's nothing to worry about, right?" Allison asked, her eyes jumping between the assassins to their weapons.
A particularly tall, somewhat handsome and rich-looking assassin stepped out of the shadows. Not only was he the only one not covering his face, but also the only one swinging a sword of gold.
"No, child." He answered "Come with us and you won't have to die."
Ra's Al Ghul stepped forward, eying the five werewolves with hunger. "Else, well." He took in a deep breath, let his sword reflect the few light coming from the dawn "you'll see what'll happen."
Surprisingly, Miss Martian was not the first one to answer. Before she could place herself between the pack and the immortal assassin, someone else stepped forward.
Blond curls tainted with blood and cheeks covered in dirt, Erica crossed her arms and raised her chin.
"I said it to your girlfriend and I'll gladly repeat it for you." She looked down at his shoes and then back at him "Go to hell, bitch."
Mischief's grip tightened around the sai, his fingers turning white. Not to compare with his heated face, submerged in anger and hate.
"You go them kidnapped." He spat at the alpha before him "Why? What possible reason would you have to betray them?"
Miguel did not fall for the trap. On the contrary, his eyebrows furrowed in deeper curiosity as he stepped forward.
"Why didn't they recognize you?" he asked, while Mischief stepped backwards "I mean, even I wasn't fooled by that mask and even if I was, your scent—it is more than obvious."
Mischief stared into the werewolf's eyes as firm as he could. Just like Alice, he was wearing a black sweatshirt and black pants. No weapons.
Miguel smiled "It's the Martian, isn't it?" he smiled "My, my, Stiles, fiddling with your pack's minds. I'm impressed."
"How do you-?" Mischief asked, wondering how much the alpha truly knew.
Before he could finish his question, Miguel's eyes blazed red and his claws burs forward. Mischief barely had time to step aside and out of the alpha's range. His hand swung up, using the sai in his hands like he rarely did. The weapon's sharp point cut through Miguel's face, leaving a long slash from his temple to his chin.
One drop of blood fell from the cut before the skin stretched and covered the wound, leaving nothing behind. Not even a scar.
"Kind of tough, isn't it?" Miguel asked, fangs out on the open "Fighting against someone you can't wound?"
Mischief quickly circled around the alpha, placing himself nearer to the door. Using Miguel's moment of mockery to his advantage, he jumped off his feet, kicking Miguel in the face. When the werewolf stumbled back, Mischief's fist rushed up, hitting his chin. The sai against the werewolf's temple was the last thing needed for Miguel to fall to the ground, his lip open and bleeding.
Everything for nothing. Within the next second, Miguel coughed and raised his head to look at him. His lip perfectly healed.
Behind the recovering werewolf, Mischief glimpsed Alice's figure, still unmoving. His heart throbbed in his ears when it dawned on him.
He could take them down. Mischief could take enemies as Miguel and Alice down, even stronger enemies. With ease. His hard training and extensive experience guaranteed so much. However, the problem was not in bringing Miguel down.
It was in keeping him down.
No matter how hard he hit, how wounded Miguel was, the werewolf could shake it off and restart the fight. Usually, when Mischief fought against such an opponent, it was only with the team or Batman, never alone. Fighting against an enemy able to heal any wound was suicide, unless one was planning on a fast kill.
Knowing Alice and Miguel would get up soon and he had no chance against two unwoundable opponents, he spun around and ran out of the room.
"Nightwing, Robin, Miss Martian." He spoke through the link "I need backup. Immediately."
The moment he thought of those words, he knew it had not worked. The psychic link had broken. As he ran through the empty corridor, Mischief knew that was why Nightwing and Robin had not answered. Something inside this building, inside this section, hindered telepathic communication.
Which meant he was in the right place to find answers.
When he turned right, a shadow jumped into his eyes. A blonde hunter with a black leather jacket and jeans, looking in the opposite direction from which Mischief was coming.
Knowing his time was limited by the alpha behind him, Mischief did not slow his pace down. He fastened it. Just when he was a few metres behind the hunter, he jumped off his feet. Flying through the air, above the hunter, his hands snapped around the man's shoulder.
When Mischief landed on the floor, he pulled the man forward, propelling him over his head before the hunter's back hit the floor hard. All of that in seconds. Before the man knew what had happened, Mischief was already over him, his sai pressed against his throat.
"Where's the alpha?" he asked. When he got no answer, he pressed the sai harder against the man's throat "I asked: Where is the alpha?"
The man whimpered but refused to speak.
"Don't make me ask again." Mischief warned one last time, wondering how the man was still able to breathe with the pressure on his throat.
After a few seconds, the man's face reddened. "Fine!" he spat, trying to get air into his lungs. Mischief loosened the pressure. "He's in the third floor, the room in the end of the eastern hallway. The one with the door of metal."
Mischief smiled "Thank you very much."
His fist found the way to the man's temple, sending him into oblivion. Not a second had passed and Mischief was already running towards the staircase.
Closely behind, Miguel followed in his footsteps. Not giving the fallen man any importance, Miguel too, headed for the stairs.
The locker room was deserted when Robin and Nightwing arrived. The masked heroes inspected the entirety of the room within seconds. However, the pack, as well as Miss Martian and Mischief, were nowhere in sight.
"What now?" Robin asked, looking at footage of the hacked cameras "We can't just assume they headed out without us."
Nightwing shook his head and gave it one more try. While they had explored the building, the telepathic link had broken, cutting them off from the team. Not only that, but the alarm had soon echoed through the halls, exposing them and putting a couple of assasins and hunters on their hunt.
Returning to the rendez-vous would not have been a problem. Returning without being followed was rather difficult. Frustratingly, it had taken them longer than wanted. Without the telepathic link down, there was no way they could know what had happened on the other half of the gigantic warehouse.
"Miss Martian? Mischief?" he asked through the link "Where are you?"
Robin's eyes widened when he heard his brother speak in his head, knowing they were back in the communication line. Yet, for a couple of seconds, no one answered. Frowning, Robin gave it another shot.
"Mischief? Miss Martian?" he asked "Can you hear us?"
A relieved sigh escaped their lips when a female voice responded.
"We're outside, in the woods." Her voice cut off, distracted "We were ambushed by Ra's. The pack and I are barely standing our ground."
The second she uttered the last word, Nightwing had already opened the door and stepped into the fresh air. "Let's go."
Both, Robin and Nightwing were out of the fence and in the woods within the following ten seconds.
Mischief had made it to the third floor when he heard Miguel's steps behind him. Fastening his pace and ignoring his heart about to explode, he kept his sight set on the hall before him, thinking of nothing but getting to Derek as fast as possible.
"Come on, Stiles!" Miguel shouted behind him, getting nearer "You don't really think you can outrun me, do you?"
The steps got louder after each second. Doing the first thing that came into mind, Mischief burst into a wooden door to his left, opening it with his shoulder's strength. Running into the opened room in hopes of finding something able to help him out of this situation, Mischief was not expecting what he encountered.
The long room was filled with white cupboards, locked with silver locks. Metallic tables lined up along the wall, empty but covered in white and blue long sheets of paper. A stinging smell burned into Mischief's nose, reminding him of a hospital. In the middle of the room was a long, cushioned chair with straps.
Small rays of light fell on the white floor. As Mischief stepped in, he got a glimpsed of a pinboard beside the door. The images there and information displayed reminded him of a single green-haired, white-skinned individual he had had the misfortune to meet in his life.
Before Mischief could get the hell out of this place, a shadow blocked the way.
"Not the nicest room you could have picked." Miguel briefly looked at the white walls "But at least you can't go far now."
Still holding his sai tightly in his grip, Mischief rose it between him and Miguel.
"What's your deal anyway?" He asked, stepping back to bring distance between them "Why are you chasing me? Why are you working with hunters?"
Miguel locked the door behind him before walking into the room. Mischief tried the psychic link one more time but remained as unsuccessful as the former times. He was on his own.
"You and your friends are ruining something I've been planning for a long time." Miguel answered, looking down at a metallic table with scalpels. "If you get Derek out of here, you will have ruined everything. I can't let that happen."
"I hate to burst your amateur-villain bubble, but Scott and the rest are already out." Mischief placed himself behind the chair, using it as protection "Not looking so well for you in the villain business, is it?"
Miguel smiled "Don't be so sure you are winning yet."
His heart throbbing in his chest, Mischief frowned "What is that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing." Miguel was only a few steps before the chair. Mischief took in a deep breath, prepared himself for what was about to come.
Without hesitating another moment, Mischief swung his arm back and threw his sai. As he had expected, the Japanese weapon met its target, hitting and going through Miguel's shoulder. The werewolf stumbled back.
Mischief jumped and supported his opened palms on the cushioned chair as he made a backflip through the air to land a few steps behind Miguel. He landed on one knee and stretched the other one in a circle, swinging it underneath Miguel's legs. The werewolf's feet lost contact with the floor.
As soon as his back landed, Mischief's fist rose, punching him in the face. A small drop of blood traced its way down the alpha's nose. Mischief got on his feet. His eyes fell on the empty chair.
"Oh, don't even think about it." Miguel immediately knew what was in his mind. Before Mischief could move, the werewolf's claws slashed his abdomen open. Then his right leg.
Hissing in pain, Mischief's hands snapped to the bleeding skin. Barely had he seen the red tainting his hand, Miguel was already on his feet. His hand snapped around Mischief's left forearm, squeezing as tight as he could.
Under the bandage hidden by his suit, Mischief's wounded skin burst out in flames.
"I thought I'd heard Bellisa mention something about your arm and a fire." Miguel smiled at Mischief's attempts to wriggle his arm out of his grip, holding back the flming pain. Black dots blurring Mischief's sight and agonizing pain clouding his mind, he could not react to the sudden push. His back crashed against a closed cupboard.
"How about this?" Miguel asked and squeezed harder, his other hand pressing Mischief's shoulder against the cupboard "You and your superhero friends leave without the pack or I'll kill you right here and now."
Erica had clawed an assassin's chest open when the pale-skinned, black-suited hero jumped into the scene with two short sticks in his hands. Like a trojan warrior in Erica's eyes, the man with the blue eagle in his chest swung his sticks with grace and precision. Within seconds, he had knocked two assassins unconscious.
Jumping out of the way of a blade's way, Isaac landed by her side before punching the man in the face. Between the clinging of blades and howls of battle, Erica crossed Isaac's gaze and pointed with her chin at NIghtwing.
"I wouldn't mind getting rescued more often." She said and kicked the woman running towards her "Not if the heroes are hotties like him."
Isaac looked at the pack around him. Boyd was to Erica's right, struggling with the assassins. Allison had collected two knives, using them to defend herself and Lydia. Naturally, Jackson stood by the strawberry-blonde's side, ripping everyone to shreds that got too near.
"Could you focus on what is important right now?" Isaac asked and punched an assassin in the face.
Before answering, Erica ducked and punched. "Where would the fun be in that?"
"You-" Mischief hesitated, not knowing what to say. A plan took shape in his mind but he needed time. "Why you are siding with the hunters? Look behind you! Look at those photographs! Look at what they are doing to your people! Why the hell are you helping them?"
Miguel's fist hit his cheek before he knew it.
The veins in Miguel's forehead got thicket, jumping out of his skin.
"I'm not helping them!" He spat out "I hate every single one of them with every cell in my body. But, sometimes, you gotta do things you don't like when you want access to certain things."
With those words, that small piece of the puzzle fell in its place.
"You are using Bellisa to get to The Light." Mischief muttered "She's one of them, isn't she?"
Miguel smiled humourlessly as his claws burst out, digging into Mischief's skin. Taken utterly by surprised by the sudden pain, Mischief tried to break out of the werewolf's grip. However, he did not stop shaping his plan.
"You are a smart kid." Miguel said, raising his voice "Smart enough to ruin my only ticket into the single organization that can extinguish all hunters once and for all."
Mischief took in a deep breath, he just needed a few more seconds to figure the details out.
"Won't help much when every werewolf in the country finds out you worked for experimenting hunters and kidnapped packs for them." Mischief commented, glancing at the window to his left briefly "It won't matter because no one will ever again welcome you and your pack again."
The second punch did not take him by surprise.
"Well, that's why no one will find out." Miguel smiled soarly. He got nearer to Mischief "Just to make things clear for you, should a miracle happen and should you get out of this alive which I seriously doubt."
The werewolf's eyes flashed red "If you utter a single word about me and the hunters to anyone in the pack or any werewolf for that matter," he said "I will personally deliver Scott the news of his best friend lying to him his entire life about his true identity; a masked vigilante called Mischief."
"It would be your word against mine." Mischief's muscles tensed in anger.
Miguel laughed in his face "Tell me, Stiles." he said "Has anyone ever betrayed you? Stabbed you in the back? Shown you one side of them only to later turn out to be an entirely different person you didn't even know? Have you felt the disappointment? The loneliness? The pain?"
Although Mischief hated it, Miguel's words hit their target perfectly.
The image of a dark-skinned Atlantian flashed inside Mischief's mind. A honourable leader Mischief had looked up to, Mischief had aspired to be like, Mischief had trusted. Out of everyone, he had been the only one to ever train Mischief's abilities.
Then he remembered the night Nightwing had told him. The night in Malina Island. How his hands had closed around Superboy's neck. How he had not once glanced in Mischief's direction. Like he was nothing. Not important. Like he had never mattered to him. Never been loved.
A grin spread over Miguel's face "You have, haven't you?" he asked, rose an eyebrow "Sucks, doesn't it?"
Miguel got nearer, so near Mischief could feel his breath tingle his skin.
"Would you like to make Scott go through the same pain?" he simply said, leaned back "The same agony? Knowing he will never, in his entire life, trust you again? Like you again? Love you again?"
Mischief did not even need to think about the answer.
However, it was time to act. Just for a second, he closed his eyes, imagined the room before him with every single detail, imagined the scene before him, saw himself many different times, heard his own voice.
When his eyes opened again, it was done.
Behind Miguel stood a teenager with a masked face and a green fox printed on his chest. Another Mischief.
His double tapped Miguel's shoulder.
"You really should start doing background checks on people you want to kill." His double muttered, his voice exactly like Mischief's.
Wide eyed, Miguel snapped around. His grip loosened from Mischief's arm while he stared at Mischief.2, his mouth gaping open.
On the other end of the room, Mischief.3 joined the party. "Surprised?" he asked with his hands resting on a metallic table with wheels.
Stepping backwards and letting go of his arm, Miguel turned to look at the original Mischief. "How?"
"You've got your tricks." Mischief rubbed his hurting arm with his hand "I've got mine."
A drop of sweat ran down Mischief's face, his muscles getting weaker each second he maintained the illusion standing.
"Let me help you." Mischief.3 pushed the metallic table towards Miguel. The moment it hit him in the abdomen, the werewolf stumbled backwards, his eyes jumping between the three present Mischiefs.
His back hit the window, the table a few centimetres before him. Taking the opportunity, Mischief walked towards the werewolf. Meanwhile, Mischief.2 threw a dagger over his head, making Miguel flinch. When Miguel realized Mischief was right before him, it was too late.
There was a punch, a broken window and Miguel was gone.
Knowing it had ended for now but not for long, Mischief let himself fall on his knees. The illusions dissolved into green gleaming powder, including the table. Breathing heavily, Mischief tried to shake the exhaustion out of his system. With shaking limbs, he got on his feet.
He would need his abilities one more time tonight.
The Head of the Demon assessed his opponent with disgust in his eyes. His sword circled through the air while Scott observed him through golden eyes. Calculating every move, Ra's waited for the right moment to strike.
What he did not anticipate was the second teenager raining down on him. The yellow-caped young hero landed with his hands on his head, propelling himself a bit upwards to land a few steps behind Ra's. Recovering from the surprise, Ra's turned 90 degrees, one teenager on each side.
Pulling his stick out, Robin shook his head "How about you fight against someone your own speed?"
Before Scott could process the offense in that sentence, Ra's sword swung up, ready to slice the Boy Wonder in two. However, Robin only dodged and swung his stick before jumping back with a handstand.
By the time Ra's realized he had been hit, the teenager was out of range. The Head of the Demon grunted in frustration.
"You, insolent child!" he shouted and threw a sai at him.
Acting before thinking, Scott jumped from his position, pushing Robin away and taking his place. The long metallic weapon dug its way into his arm, sending agonizing pain through his body. Yet, Scott could heal the wound while Robin probably could not.
Biting on his lower lip, Scott pulled the weapon out of his flesh, warm blood running down his arm.
Before Ra's could turn his gaze away from Scott, Robin had already swung his staff again. Stepping back, Ra's' eyes were forced to take in his surroundings. Most of the assassins he had brought were already on the floor, unconscious or wounded.
The pack was bleeding, dirtied and exhausted. But they were still standing.
Plus, the three perfectly trained young heroes with mad skills and tons of energy were still fighting. If Ra's was one thing, it was a wise man. A wise man knew when to end a fight. Stepping back towards the forest, he brought distance between him and Robin.
"Retreat." He called out to his people "We will end this fight another day."
Before anyone had time to react, thick fog filled the forest, blinding every single person present. Even the werewolves' eagle-like sight could only spot shadows dancing through the fog. Coughing out the burning in his throat, Scott and everyone present waited for the fog to dissolve.
When it was gone, so were the assassins.
"We're clear." Miss Martian announced from above.
Scott would never deny the immense and goofy smile that spread over his face that moment.
When Derek spotted the masked figure walking through the opened door and breaking the line of mountain ash as he walked into the room, his pacing stopped. His eyebrows rose, taking the image before him in. The adrenaline died out in his veins, replaced by confusion and surprise.
"Who the hell are you?" was the only thing he could manage to say.
The figure gazed around the entirely white room, his eyes finally landing on the single shackle around Derek's ankle. Mischief had to supress a smile when he imagined how much Derek probably hated being chained to a wall.
He looked up at Derek and stepped closer "I'm here to get you out."
Moody as he was, Derek crossed his arms and raised his chin "And you think I'm gonna believe you that easily?"
Mischief pulled two pins from his belt, stretching them into think lines with his teeth.
"Listen, Mister Sexy." Mischief spoke with a confidence Stiles would never have "I just had the fight of my life to get to you. Which is why you are going to let me open that thing around your ankle and escort you out of here. You can do whatever you want with your life afterwards. You want to sell pancakes? I'm okay with it. You want to go sleeping around with hot girls? Go ahead! You want to rip people's heads off? I don't care! The only thing I care about is getting you out of here, capito?"
For a second, the only thing Derek could do was stare at the masked boy before him, literally not having any words to respond to that. His shirt was ripped and bloodied, his body sweating. Mischief walked towards him and forced his heart to stay calm as he leaned down to knack the lock.
After a few seconds, he stepped back, let the used pins fall to the floor.
"Let's go." Mischief pointed at the door and started walking "Before any more hunters come this way and find us."
"Wait." Derek's hand closed around Mischief's right arm. Even though he was wearing thick leather, a wave of heat rushed through Mischief's body. Not that Derek would notice anyway.
"What about my pack?" he asked "I'm not leaving without—"
Mischief smiled at him "We already got them out and to safety." He nodded "You and I are the last ones here."
Derek opened his mouth, frowned, did not understand.
"Before you ask." Mischief continued "We are going to explain everything, just not here. Your friends and mine are waiting for us. We need to go."
When Derek finally agreed to leave and be rescued, he did not say anything about the two unconscious bodies sprawled on the ground before his cell. Neither did he say anything about the other five ones he encountered in their way through the hallways.
Whoever the person before him was, he made something stir inside Derek. Something he could not quite identify. So, silently, he sneaked through the deserted and not-so-deserted hallways, following Mischief.
Another thing he purposefully ignored were Mischief's shaking hands.
He knew they were watching him, could feel their gazes. However, Mischief remained in his seat and looked firmly out of the window. Sitting on the conductor's seat in the middle of the red spaceship, Miss Martian was the first one to speak.
"What happened, Mischief?" she asked inside his head. For a second Mischief doubted whether it was only the two of them inside the link. He got an answer as soon as he spotted Nightwing and Robin's penetrating glare.
Mischief looked at the two masked heroes sitting on the front of the bioship "I'll tell you guys later in detail but—there was a third party involved. The other pack was working with the hunters."
To his right, Robin frowned "Why would they do that?"
"Apparently—" Mischief's answer was cut short when a fascinated voice spoke behind them.
Leaning forward in her seat, Lydia observed the four young heroes with sparks in her eyes "You are doing it right now, aren't you?" she asked and smiled "The telepathic thing?"
Miss Martian turned to look at them and at her team. Sighing, she nodded. A wave of energy ran through the pack as they exchanged surprised gazes. While Allison, Lydia, Isaac, Erica and Boyd sat on the chairs along the ship's back wall, Derek and Scott had preferred to remain standing.
Glancing out of the window to meet the dawning sun with its soft colours, Allison took in a deep breath before looking back at the heroes.
"So, what was that all about?" she asked and clapped her hands together "You said you would explain everything when we got out." She shrugged "We're out now."
Mischief and Nightwing exchanged one glance. The gesture did not go unnoticed by the numerous werewolves in the room.
"What, are you getting cold feet now?" Derek asked, crossing his arms "You got us out and we're thankful but that doesn't mean we are going to trust you. Not yet anyway."
Sitting on her high seat, resting her hands on the white spheres that served as controllers, Miss Martian turned her head left to look at the werewolf. Her eyes followed the spaceship's side, taking the staring passengers in.
"We can't answer every one of your questions." She let her shoulders fall "Like Mischief said, we are blurry on some details too. Other things are confidential. The rest—we'll answer if we can."
Now it was the pack's time to exchange confused glances, not knowing quite how to respond and not knowing what to ask.
Turning her chair to face the inside of the ship, Lydia was the first one to raise her voice.
"Who are you?" was her first question.
"We're a—secret operation team that works for The Justice League." Nightwing answered, also turning his chair to face the middle of the ship. "The word secret means we would appreciate you not saying anything about what happened to anyone."
A surprised silence filled the room for one second. Scott leaned back on the ship's red wall, frowning deeply with lost eyes.
"You don't strike me as old enough for that." Derek commented.
He was met with nothing but another wave of silence. Behind his mask, Nightwing rose an eyebrow.
"Well, you don't strike me as old enough to fight supernatural battles." Mischief answered.
Again, the sitting and standing members of the pack remained silent. Jackson's mouth opened, ready to reply. However, before he could speak, Scott cleared his throat.
He shook his head "Why would The Justice League want to get us out of some hunter's layer?" his eyes brushed Mischief "How did you even know we were there?"
Knowing this question could only be answered by him, Mischief leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his thighs. Shaking his head, Mischief sighed.
"Okay, so, I'm just going to say as much as I can and hope it answers all of your questions." He said, "Things will get too complicated elsewise."
Allison leaned forward "We're listening."
Mischief took in a deep breath, thought for a second about where to start.
Finally, he looked at the pack. "The hunters that captured you have a connection to a criminal organization called The Light." He said slowly, waited for a response. Motionless rocks stared back at him "We have— history with them. We don't know what they were planning but it definitely wasn't anything good."
"They have talent in plotting behind our backs" Miss Martian interrupted his explanation "Whatever it is we stopped today from happening—it could not have been good."
Jackson rose his eyebrows defiantly "So you have no idea why they kidnapped us?" he wondered "No idea what they were going to do with us?"
"No." Mischief answered, clenching his fists without anyone noticing "But we will figure it out. Whatever the big plan is, we are going to find out what it is."
Jackson scoffed, leaned back on his seat "Well, great job you did tonight."
"We got you all out in one piece." Nightwing's voice was sharper than usual "That's a successful mission in my book."
"How did you know we had been kidnapped?" Scott asked "How did you even know about us?"
Mischief sighed "Batman, he—likes to keep track of individuals with special abilities. A group of teenage werewolves fighting kanimas and rouge alphas—that kind of fits into that category."
Erica's mouth gaped open "You're saying you have been spying on us?" she asked "For how long?"
"Don't think you are an exception." Robin smiled warmly "He kind of spies on everyone."
Leaning back, Erica frowned. "That's- comforting."
"So, wait." Derek ignored Erica and raised his palms "You spied on us, saw we had been kidnapped by that— enemy organization of yours and went to rescue us? That's it?"
Mischief nodded.
"What about the masked ones?" Isaac interrupted "The ones in the woods?"
"That's a bit more complicated." Nightwing stopped the questions from coming once and for all. His eyes remained on the clouds passing by their side "We'll bring you back to Beacon Hills. We'll stop at Gotham first but you should be all safe at home within a couple of hours."
He spun around, steel in his eyes behind the mask "We will keep an eye out for you to stop anything similar from happening again." His gaze brushed Mischief for a second and returned to the pack "You will be protected. Just return to your normal life and don't mention us to anyone. We'll sort out everything else."
"We could help you." Scott immediately replied. Mischief was not surprised at all "Help you figure out what those hunters wanted—"
"That's kind but not necessary." Miss Martian tried to smile at him "This is our job and we wouldn't want to endanger anyone unnecessarily."
"Besides," Robin continued "Something tells me you'll be having enough trouble on your own."
It was not until three hours later that the pack set foot in Beacon Hills again. Not because the bioship had taken that long to arrive, but because Miss Martian had purposefully remained longer in the skies than necessary. This was meant to give Mischief enough time to bandage himself up and head for Beacon Hills. Meanwhile, he had reported Nightwing every single detail of his encounter with Miguel. Yet, the same questions remained unanswered. Having more than enough time than necessary, Stiles (with two bruises in his face and a bandaged arm) quickly arrived at Derek's loft.
He could only gather enough energy to look through the scattered papers and notes once, making sure nothing pointed at his nightly activities and superhuman friends. Once he had made sure nothing would reveal what he had been up to these last days, he let himself fall on the sofa. He sunk into the soft cushion as if it were a cloud.
Aside from the wounds he had gathered, his body barely had enough energy to stand because of the illusions he had casted. Not only had he exhausted himself when he had created his two doubles and made them able to speak, but also had he pushed his body to the limit with using his powers to make Derek (and later the entire pack) see an entirely different person once the psychic link had broken. As far as the pack was concerned, they had stared into a complete stranger's eyes that had not obtained a single wound during the rescue mission.
Stiles was actually planning to wait for them to arrive, sitting in front of the paper-filled table. However, his lids soon became heavy and his muscles turned into lead. Without really noticing, his head sunk into the heavenly surface and he drifted into an exhausted sleep.
It was morning when the pack, bloodied and beaten and exhausted, walked into Derek's loft, the only place they could clean themselves up and talk about what had happened.
Surprise struck every single one of them when they saw the lock was opened. Their hearts raced when they entered and found chaotic mess before them. Sheets crumpled into balls around the living room, a half-filled board with threats, two laptops in the night table.
Derek was the first one to step forward, closely followed by Scott. After what they had gone through, their senses kicked into high-alert, preparing them for everything to jump out of the next corner.
It was a single misplaced step what gave them away. Isaac's ankle folded beneath him and the blonde werewolf soon hit the ground. The wood cracked beneath his weight, his chest hit the ground with a loud thud.
That second, a figure jolted up from the couch. Getting on his feet in a heartbeat, the person jumped from the couch and faced the opened door.
The pack did not need long to notice the unfocused reddened eyes that were still half-asleep.
The moment Stiles' eyes landed on them, the moment he spotted Scott's brown eyes, Erica's messy curls, Allison's bright smile and Derek's muscles, he did not need to act or fake anything. The biggest grin in his entire life appeared on his face.
In mere seconds, he had crossed the apartment and wrapped Scott around a tight hug.
"You, stupid Scott." He smiled without letting him go "I told you to call me the next time someone tried to murder you. Instead, you go off and get yourself kidnapped."
His embrace was returned tightly. Even though he could not see it, Stiles knew Scott was smiling.
"Yeah, well." He answered "Next time perhaps."
Stepping back, Stiles turned to look at the rest of the pack. His words had triggered the first reaction out of them. As if they had just realized what they had gone through and that they had escaped, laughter and sparkling eyes filled the room. Following Stiles' example, hugs (bro hugs, not sentimental hugs) filled the room. Even Boyd closed his arms around Erica once.
Obviously, there was one person that did not participate in the warm reunion.
Glad they had come out of it alive, the pack stood in front of the door, smiling like children in Christmas.
"Did you do all of this?" Derek asked, standing before Stiles' filled board with wet hair and shirt "Come up with all of this information?"
Stiles tried really hard to not stare at the blue shirt pasted on the werewolf's back "Yeah after I realized you were gone, I just dug up everything I could."
Not bothering to face him, Derek's gaze remained on the board while Stiles observed him from the couch. Erica, Isaac, Allison and Lydia had already finished taking a shower and dressing themselves up. Just like Stile,s they were waiting for the rest of the pack to come and join them to talk about the happened events.
"You know, you could tell me what happened." Stiles said to no one in particular "I would not bother knowing how you got taken and how you got away."
He would deny it to himself, but deep down he was anxious to know how they would talk about the team. And a certain masked boy with a fox on his chest.
"You could tell us what you did." A smiling voice spoke from a formerly closed door. Scott stepped out of the room, fully dressed and with a towel over his shoulders "Looks like you had some Sherlocking happening here."
Beside Stiles, Erica nodded "You could also tell us what happened to your face."
Before Stiles answered, Scott let himself fall beside him on the couch's armrest, observing him with curiosity and worry.
"You get kidnapped and I'm the first to talk?" Stiles asked "Hardly seems fair."
Allison rolled her eyes "Just tell us while we wait for the others."
Taking a deep breath, Stiles straightened his back "I fought against killer hunters to get information on how to find you." He said "In fact, I was about to go rescue you when you came."
Isaac laughed into the apple he was eating "No, really, Stiles." he looked at him "What happened?"
Raising his eyebrows, Stiles blurted out the lie he had meditated over million times in his head.
"When I realized you were all gone." He told them and turned to look at Scott "I tried to get into Scott's room through the window. While I was climbing, things kind of… got slippery."
Allison shook her head, laughing just like everyone present.
"We get kidnapped and Stiles just falls." Isaac took deep breaths to calm his laugh "Unsurprising."
Even though he new the story was far, far from the truth, Stiles suddenly wanted to change the topic above everything else. His eyes darted up to Scott beside him.
"Now, it's your turn to share." He said "What happened?"
Lydia put a block down Stiles had filled with scribbles "Looks like you already figured out most of it."
"We were training with Miguel and his pack." Isaac explained, darkness drowned his voice when he mentioned that name "We don't know how they knew we were there, but the hunters jumped out of nowhere. It wasn't a fair battle at all, they outnumbered us."
"It sounds like you're saying there was a fight at all." Derek intervened, finally turning around and walking towards the couch. He sat down on a cushioned chair next to it "It wasn't. They used this gas to knock us out. Next thing we knew we were somewhere else entirely, separated from each other in different rooms."
Stiles' heart throbbed in his chest when he made the next question.
"What happened to the Rodriguez?" he wondered, looking at Derek and then at the pack "Did they get kidnapped too?"
Erica scoffed, looked down at the bag of cookies in her hand "Those cowards bolted before they even saw the entire threat." She spat "Left us alone to fight, didn't lift a single finger to help us."
"For all the shit he kept saying I had expected Miguel to have at least one gram of honour in him." Scott shook his head "Not the case."
When Stiles asked the next question, his mind was entirely somewhere else.
"What happened then?"
The following seconds he listened to the pack interchangeably telling him about the things he knew had happened. Through their perspective he heard how Mischief and Miss Martian had gotten the betas out. How Miss Martian had guided Allison and Lydia through the long halls. How they had fought against an army of assassins with the help of two (according to Erica) very hot heroes.
Even Derek mentioned how Mischief got him out of his cell. A blanket of disappointment fell over Stiles shoulders when he heard with which neutrality Derek spoke about his alter ego.
"They didn't tell us a lot about what happened." Erica ended the discussion "Just, general information. Not something we could use to take matters into our own hands."
"Should we, though?" Allison asked, holding a glass of water in her hands "I mean, they said they would protect us."
"Yeah, because they want to babysit us." Erica rolled her eyes "If they think I'm letting them spy on me just like that—"
Isaac shrugged "It's fine by me. As long as they stay out of our way."
"How are you going to make sure the hunters don't come back, genius?" Jackson, who had joined them during the storytelling, commented from the floor "We have to prepare ourselves, be ready to fight back."
Staring at the floor, Derek shook his head "No."
"No, what?" Scott asked.
"Whatever happened, that was above our league." His firm eyes looked up "Whatever that secret team does, we have no idea about it. Those organizations and enemies, that's the last thing we need right now."
"We can't just—" Jackson cut into the conversation.
"We can and we will," Derek's head snapped at him "If it had not been for them, who knows what would have happened to us. If what we heard was right, they were going to ship us somewhere. The best thing we can do is follow their instructions and return to normal."
The alpha took in a deep breath "Those four—they knew what they were doing. It wouldn't surprise me if their secret team turned out to be far bigger and more significant than what they made it seem. There's no doubt in my mind they have been playing this game far longer than they made us believe."
He leaned forward "The best thing we can do is what they said." He took in a deep breath "And concerning Miguel—if he ever sets foot in our territory again, I myself will make sure those cowards head out of here, tail between legs."
With no one's gaze on him, Stiles smiled. His life would return to normal. His two worlds would never have to meet again. His secret was safe.
There was no way he could have known this was not an ending but a beginning. The beginning of a succession of events that would eventually lead to his most precious secret stepping into the light.
Thank you very much for reading! I hope you liked the chapter!
I'm sorry it took this long to update. However, the chapter did turn out to be rather long. I hope you can take that as a recompensation for making you wait so long.
Thank you for leaving a comment. As I've said before, I really appreciate hearing your thoughts!
So, WildNoa13474, I'm sorry you missed your bus stop. I know it happened some time ago but when I read it, I really had to smile. Hopefully, it won't happen again with this chapter. Thank you for your kind words! I hope you keep liking the story. ;D
redhighlighters, thank you for commenting! I am continuing the story and hope to update somewhat regularly. Lots of love from Germany!
Yay Bad ass, as you have read in this chapter (hopefully) your wish came true. Stiles (or Mischief) did get to do some pretty badass things in this chapter. I hope you liked it!
Guest, your question is hereby answered. ;)
And Random person, thank you very much for your kind words. I will give my best to keep up my work and continue!
Thank for the support and patience you've all had with me. If you have an opinion or would like to share some thoughts, please do so! Reading comments is something that really makes my day.
I wish you all a very nice day!
Melpomene :D
