Chapter Twenty Seven
...
Lydia knocked on the Clarkson's front door, hoping that there would be an answer by kind and understanding people who didn't mind being woken up in the early hours of the morning. She knew that her chances were slim and that if she was on the other side of the door, the knocking would be ignored in favour of more sleep. So when the door opened almost a second later, Lydia was completely surprised. She was even more surprised to see who had opened the door.
"Satomi?"
The werewolf smiled when she recognised Lydia, though her smile did look a little tight and she seemed confused as to why she was there. "Good morning, Lydia. Are you well?"
"Yes, thank you. Um, what are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the very same question," Satomi pointed out.
"Right, of course. Oh, this is Tomika. She's with the FBI, and - "
Satomi's eyes widened as she took in the newcomer and she glanced over her shoulder, obviously hearing something that neither banshee could. "It is early, please come back tomorrow."
"...The Calaveras took Agent McCall into the morgue, but they've covered the camera in there and we don't know what they're doing to him..."
Satomi's eyes burned red as she registered the words from Tomika's two-way radio. There was movement behind her, and before Lydia or Tomika could react, Satomi had turned and slammed her palms into two people's chests. Lydia's heart raced and she wondered if Satomi was stopping the couple from leaving or trying to keep them steady. Her arms were covered in black lines, so Lydia guessed it was the latter. She looked up and saw that the couple's eyes were glowing white and they both had several rows of sharp teeth.
"Wendigoes," she breathed, surprised yet again.
Beside her, Tomika stepped back, her eyes wide with fear.
"Calm down. It's all right. They're not here for you; you're safe," Satomi said, her voice calm and reassuring even as her claws pressed against the couple's chests a little firmer.
"We're just here to talk to you," Lydia said, hoping she sounded calm and not at all threatening.
"Not you; be quiet!" Satomi snapped.
Lydia fell silent. She frowned as she tried to fit the pieces together: the Clarkson's were wendigoes and they had felt threatened when they heard about the Calaveras or possibly Agent McCall, though the latter seemed highly unlikely. She felt as though she was still missing an important piece of the puzzle, and tried to work it out.
It took another minute before Satomi completely calmed the Clarksons and she turned her attention back to the two banshees. "Come in and close the door behind you."
Lydia didn't need to be told twice, though Tomika hesitated.
"Come inside, you're letting the cold air in," Satomi said, waving her inside.
Figuring it wouldn't be a good first impression if she walked in holding her gun, Tomika let her hand fall past her holster and she walked into the home of two cannibalistic wendigoes, completely defenceless.
...
Rafe checked to see the hallway was clear before rounding the corner. Before he had even made it three steps down the hallway, one of the Calaveras stepped out at the other side. The man seemed pale and he had a defibrillator paddle scorched on his shirt. Rafe smirked at the sight. "I see you've met my ex-wife."
The man was larger than Rafe by far, armed with three weapons that he could see, and looked like he could literally snap Rafe in half. Before Rafe could even try to come up with some sort of strategy that didn't involve getting himself killed, he felt a gun press against his back.
"Agent McCall; I did not expect to see you again so soon," Araya said, smiling to herself.
"I'm happy to keep it that way: I'll leave and you don't have to see me," Rafe offered generously.
Araya didn't bother with a response, she simply pressed the gun into his back harder and told him to move. When they reached the other end of the hallway, Araya's son took Rafe's gun and patted him down, removing his knife as well. Then he glared, pulled his fist back and knocked Rafe out cold.
"That was for my shirt," he muttered.
"Take him to the morgue," Araya said, waving at her son.
Armando nodded, picked Rafe up, and headed down to the morgue without another word.
Rafe woke up when a blast of cold air hit his skin. Darkness surrounded him and Rafe took a moment to breathe deeply through his nose, trying to determine exactly where he was and what he could do.
"How exactly does an FBI agent get captured by an elderly woman half their size?" Jackson snarked. He sounded afraid more than anything, and if there wasn't a wall between them, Rafe was ninety-percent sure that Jackson would be glaring at him with all the fierceness of a person who was truly terrified.
Rafe ignored the jibe and instead tried to listen to the Calaveras' conversation. He wasn't having much success considering the wall between them. He did hear a soft whimper and frowned at the noise, unsuccessfully trying to work out who or what had made the noise.
"Isaac? C'mon, babe, talk to me. You're all right, okay? I'm right here, I promise. We're getting out of here as soon as possible, okay?" Jackson rambled, not even trying to keep the desperation out of his voice this time.
"Can either of you hear what they're saying?" Rafe asked, his voice low and hoping that the Calaveras wouldn't be able to hear him.
There was a long moment of silence, another whimper, and then a soft hiccup and sniffle. "They've got a bomb," Isaac said.
"Okay. That's good to know, Isaac, thank you. Can you hear anything else?" Rafe asked.
Jackson hadn't interrupted or said anything, so he hoped that keeping Isaac preoccupied would help his anxiety, and they could find a way out of this.
There was another moment of silence, this one longer, and Rafe forced himself to stay calm and quiet.
"They're changing the timer from twenty minutes to five. They're arguing about whether they've got enough time to get out before - "
Isaac cut off abruptly and Rafe tensed, straining to listen to what was happening on the other side of the wall. A fist banged against the wall and Rafe breathed through the surprise at the sudden noise.
"Stop talking in there!" Araya snapped, banging against the wall again.
His mind finally caught up - being knocked unconscious and feeling like he was freezing to death certainly didn't help things - and Rafe realised that they'd been locked in the morgue's refrigeration units.
...
Jade was certainly old enough to control her banshee powers without letting them overwhelm her, but sometimes it seemed like the control she had just wasn't good enough for the universe at large. There were times when Jade woke up in the middle of her lounge room with her feet aching as though she'd been walking on asphalt barefoot for several hours, or she blinked and discovered that the whole day had passed without her realising.
Now was another one of those times, and Jade walked through the room in a blurred daze without being aware of her surroundings. She turned a knob here, pulled on metal there, destroyed a length of copper there.
With that task finished, Jade continued walking, propping doors open and closing others without any discernible rhyme or reason.
...
Teddy gasped and sat up, his eyes watering. Looking over to the security station, he saw two women standing there, and frowned, trying to determine if they were friend or foe. Looking around the room, Teddy saw two of the Calaveras crew who had knocked him out; they were either dead or unconscious and one had a pen sticking out of their leg.
"Parrish has disabled the bomb; Melissa's gone with him to help get as many people out of the hospital as possible. The Calaveras probably have a backup option," Stiles' voice came from Mia's two-way radio.
Teddy relaxed when he recognised Stiles' voice and heard that Melissa was all right. Then, without being noticed by either woman, he slipped out of the security room and back into the hospital.
"Fourth floor can't be evacuated; they're on life support. Ensure the backup generators are working and ready to go," Okami said.
"We're on it," Liam said, running off with Mason beside him.
"Uh, that guy who was in here is no longer in here," Teresa said, double-taking when she realised that he wasn't there and she hadn't heard or seen a thing.
"Well, since we're not dead, I say we assume he's a good guy and on our side," Mia replied distractedly, trying to determine where everyone was and how many more patients needed to be evacuated.
"Third floor's done," Caleb reported.
"Second floor's the children's ward; I'm going to need help and fast," Tasha said, a few children starting to cry already, not liking being woken up in the early hours by a complete stranger. "Scratch that," she added.
Teddy nodded to her briefly, the children's tears stopping immediately when they saw him. He smiled at the children and started to whistle, soft at first, the tune becoming louder and more complex. Without a word or noise of complaint, the children left their beds and followed Teddy down the hallway and out of the hospital. Tasha stared after them in shock, the hairs on her arms standing on end, and a cold shiver running up her spine.
What was he?!
...
The smell wafted into the morgue and Araya sniffed deeply, frowning at the foreign scent. The morgue was pristine and smelled cold, but this new scent was overwhelmingly thick and clogging, and far too easy to identify. Still, she'd rather be certain than guess. "Graciela, go check the kitchen!"
Surprised at the demand, but knowing not to question her mother, Graciela ran out of the morgue without even bothering to check if the coast was clear.
Knowing that her hunch - and nose - would be correct, Araya instructed her sons to retrieve the hostages. They would have to lure Scott McCall outside and kill him there instead. It was a shame to waste a perfect plan and spot, but Araya wasn't stupid and she certainly wasn't about to kill herself over one werewolf and his pack, even if the werewolf in question was a True Alpha.
Graciela returned and confirmed Araya's suspicions: the hospital's kitchen had been torn apart and gas was leaking from several large industrial ovens. Graciela also informed Araya that several doors had been shut with zip ties to redirect the gas so that it flowed straight down to the morgue. Their weapons - both the guns they held and the crates they'd brought in - were essentially useless, unless they wanted to die along with whoever they were fighting. Araya's sense of self-preservation was far stronger than that: hunters didn't usually live to die naturally at a ripe old age, after all.
A commotion in the adjoining room had Araya and Graciela hurrying to the doorway. Two of the hostages were already bound, gagged, and hooded, the thick material obscuring their vision. The last hostage - one of the werewolves - was fighting and struggling.
"We do not have time for this. Armando, get him under control and bring him out to the car!" Araya snapped, grabbing the lithe curly-haired werewolf and pushing him out of the room, the tip of her knife pressed into the boy's back to make him move.
Graciela grabbed Agent McCall and followed her mother out, her brother following quickly, both of them leaving Armando to fend for himself without an ounce of regret or sympathy. The rest of the Calaveras' crew followed their leader out.
Jackson's hands were tied with wolfsbane but that didn't mean he wasn't going to fight like a goddamn werewolf anyway. He snarled and launched himself at Armando.
...
Jorge might have a better sense of smell than Malia did, but she was still faster than him. She came to an abrupt stop when she reached the morgue, snarling and growling when she saw the hunter with a knife pressed to Jackson's throat. Even over the scent of gas, Malia could scent that wolfsbane coated the blade, as well as Jackson's emotions: anger, worry, and overwhelming fear.
"Don't come a step closer, girl, or your friend's dead!" Armando snapped.
Malia growled again, a low sound at the back of her throat. Armando didn't have time to react: one moment, the werecoyote was standing in front of him, the next, she was directly in front of them with her hand plunged in her friend's stomach. Jackson screamed in pain, his eyes desperately trying to flicker to gold - his wolf desperately trying to keep him alive - despite the wolfsbane rope tied around his wrists.
"You're crazy!" Armando said, mouth dropping open in shock.
Malia grinned, determined and grim, and pushed deeper through Jackson's stomach, past his ribs and spine until her hand was through his body completely. Then she reached through Armando in the same way and wrenched on his spine until it was no longer connected to the rest of his body. Letting go and pulling her hand out the second she saw the light in Armando's eyes fade, Malia tore at the wolfsbane ropes on Jackson's wrists and hoped that she hadn't killed him too.
...
Ethan heard Jackson scream and a cold feeling of dread filled him at the sound. Jackson wouldn't scream in pain, he would howl, which meant that he was human - or as close to it as he could be - and he could be dying. Ethan ran faster, crashing into a wall as he took a corner too fast. Ignoring the rubble and plaster, ignoring the pulse of pain in his still-weary body, Ethan ran into the morgue and stopped short.
Jackson was lying on the floor, Malia kneeling beside him. They were both covered in blood, and there was a fucking hole in Jackson's stomach.
"What did you do?!" Ethan snarled, crossing the room in three long strides. He grabbed Malia around the neck and pulled her upright until they were face to face. "What the fuck did you do to him?!" he yelled, eyes blue, fangs extended, and claws drawing blood on her neck.
"She... saved me," Jackson breathed from the floor. "Put her down, Eth."
Ethan dropped Malia immediately and dropped to his knees beside Jackson. His throat was tight and he thought of Aiden for the second time that night. Ethan was vaguely aware of the fact that he was trembling all over, and he sniffled when he saw that the hole was closing up, Jackson's skin and bones and organs repairing themselves. Slower than either one of them would like, but he wasn't dying, he wasn't dead. It was more than Jackson had expected since setting foot back into Beacon Hills, to be honest.
Malia kicked Ethan in the back, her boot sharp against his spine. "You can apologise to me now, asshole."
"Sorry," Ethan said wetly, rubbing his eyes on his forearm. Then he sniffed, turning abruptly. "Where's Isaac? Why's his scent so scared?"
"Calaveras took him as a hostage. They stuck us in the body container things," Jackson said, nodding to where three of the refrigeration units were open.
Ethan wolfed out completely, his shoulders tense with anger. He pressed a quick kiss to Jackson's mouth. "I'll get him back."
"I know you will," Jackson said, nodding firmly.
Ethan ran out of the morgue without looking back.
Malia looked after him, then turned her attention back to Jackson. "So how do the three of you have sex?"
"I really wish I hadn't heard that," Chris groaned as he ran past, Peter stopping in the doorway only when he realised Malia was in the room.
"Everything all right in here, dearest?" he asked, raising an eyebrow when he saw the disfigured body, blood, and the closing hole on Jackson's stomach.
"All right. Have you seen Scott?" Malia asked, frowning.
"No; I thought he came this way?" Peter asked, sniffing and then scrunching his nose up at the overpowering smell of gas.
"I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be on top of a dead guy if Scott'd been the one to rescue me," Jackson muttered.
"Don't be ungrateful," Peter said lightly, though his gaze was cold, and then turned his attention back to Malia and smiled. "Perhaps your friend will be able to catch his scent?" he suggested, then continued down to the morgue's back exit to find Chris.
"Hey, Jorge!" Malia called.
Yelena, Yukimi, and Jorge stopped at the morgue, Yukimi looking vaguely nauseous at the sight before them. Jorge stepped inside, his eyes trained on the dead hunter.
"Can you find Scott? No one's seen him since we got here," Malia said, redirecting Jorge's attention.
"Yeah, sure thing. Can you throw me an arm before I go? I'm kind of starving," Jorge said, his pupils red.
Jackson frowned at the request, but Malia just shrugged. She held Armando's body down with her foot, then grabbed his arm and pulled it off, throwing it to Jorge. Jackson dry heaved at the sight of Jorge eating, and forced himself to look away before he actually threw up.
"On that note, I'm going to turn the gas off so the hospital doesn't get blown to kingdom come despite our best efforts," Yelena muttered, frowning as she wiped a few stray drops of blood off her shirt.
"I'll help," Yukimi offered quickly, both of them leaving.
Dropping the sleeve of Armando's shirt, Jorge spat a watch into his palm, turning it over curiously.
"Jorge! You need to find Scott, remember?" Malia said, snapping her fingers to get his attention again.
"Right. Want a Rolex?" Jorge asked with a grin before sniffing and running down the hallway, heading back to the waiting room.
...
End of the twenty-seventh chapter.