Viva México

The sun beat down hard as we stepped out onto the dusty street. The town looked quiet, almost sleepy, like nothing bad had ever happened there. Which meant something definitely had.

"This doesn't seem so bad..." Stiles said, squinting up the road like he was trying to convince himself more than us.

"It's not the town," Lydia muttered beside me. "It's the plan."

I groaned, already exhausted. "Stiles, this could be the stupidest plan we've ever come up with. You're aware of that, right?"

He glanced over at me, sheepish. "I'm aware it's not our best..."

Lydia crossed her arms. "We are going to die."

"Are you saying that as a Banshee, or you're just being pessimistic?" Stiles asked, trying to keep it light.

"I'm saying it as a person who doesn't wanna die," she snapped.

Stiles raised his hands. "Okay... would you mind restricting any talk of death to actual Banshee predictions?"

"This plan is stupid, and we're going to die," Lydia said flatly, a trace of sarcasm curling the edge of her words.

"Oh. Thank you," Stiles muttered, deadpan.

Lydia hummed in response, totally unbothered.

I stepped ahead, scanning the buildings around us. If this place was a trap, it was wrapped in sun and stucco. Still, I forced a smile and knocked on the door, calling out in my best Spanish, "¿Estamos aquí para la fiesta?"

-----☾-----

The Calavera Club was another world, hot, dark, alive with pulse-pounding music. It stank of sweat, liquor, and danger. We pushed through the crowd, sticking close together.

Severo eyed us from the side and spoke into his radio, "Tenemos visitas."

Then he turned to us, offering drinks with a grin like he knew something we didn't.

We shook our heads, and I pushed them back across the bar to him.

"No. On the house," he said. "Most American teenagers don't cross the border to refuse a drink."

I didn't hesitate. "We didn't come here to drink."

His smile didn't falter, but something in his eyes sharpened. He was already sizing us up. He tilted his head and we stood, following him down a hallway.

The Calavera compound was all stone and shadow, heat and tension. Araya stood like a queen in the center of it, radiating calm menace as Severo flanked her.

"Severo hates this music," she said conversationally. "Me? I've always loved the music of youth. This especially, it has a savage energy."

I kept my expression flat. "We're here for Derek Hale."

She turned her gaze to me, amused. "Is that so?"

Lydia stepped forward. "We know you have him. We've heard you can be bought."

Stiles reached into his jacket and held out the envelope. "That's fifty thousand for Derek."

Araya looked between us, almost bored. "Now, where does a teenage boy get money like this?"

"Japanese mafia?" she added with a tilt of her head, and I couldn't tell if she was joking. Then her eyes narrowed. "Not smart to come alone."

Stiles met her stare. "What makes you think we came alone?"

"You brought a wolf into my house?" she asked, slowly circling us like a predator.

Stiles didn't flinch. "We brought an Alpha."

"My friends..." she began, voice smooth as silk and sharp as a blade. "I don't think you're aware of your poor timing."

She let the silence stretch, watching our faces, letting the moment hang.

"Do you know what the dark moon is?"

Lydia stepped forward slightly, her tone textbook crisp. "The part of the lunar phase when the moon is least visible in the sky."

Araya nodded. "But do you know its meaning?"

I drew in a breath and met her eyes. "Some people say it's a time of reflection... or grief..."

Her expression softened, just slightly. "Grief and loss, mija." She said it like she already knew. Like she'd read our wounds before we walked through her door. "I wonder why, when you and your friends have suffered so much loss, you would risk it again... for someone like Derek Hale."

I flinched, the image of Allison crossing my mind. Stiles stepped in quickly. "'Cause we don't like to lose."

The moment cracked like a whip, the tension in the air snapping as the hunter beside her suddenly lifted the radio to his mouth.

"Nadie en la cantina," came the voice through the static. "Front door clear, south clear."

Severo's voice followed sharply: "North? ¿Norte?" Then again, more urgent. "¿Dónde está el norte?"

And then I heard it—Scott's voice on our radio. Calm. Controlled. "Stiles, take ten off the table."

Stiles pulled a wad of cash from the bag, sliding it back into his pocket.

Lydia's voice was tight beside me. "Maybe you should just take the deal..."

Araya tilted her head thoughtfully. "While I am keen to follow the warning of a bean sídhe, I'm going to have to decline."

Stiles threw his arms out in exasperation. "Awww, come on. Just give us Derek. You don't want him anyway! Haven't you noticed what a downer he is? No sense of humor, poor conversationalist..."

He took a step closer, still holding the bag. "Just, come on. Take the money."

Araya turned to Severo with the faintest smile. "Severo? Show them how the Calaveras negotiate."

And that was it.

The room exploded.

Literally.

A deafening blast tore through the compound—blinding light, pressure crashing into me like a wave, heat licking at my skin. I hit the ground hard, head ringing, my vision full of smoke and ash and people shouting in Spanish.

I coughed, rolled over, and tried to find someone—anyone—through the smoke. My ears were ringing so loud I couldn't hear my own voice.

"Stiles? Lydia?!" Someone grabbed my arm and dragged me to my feet, pulling me down a hallway.

-----☾-----

The café was quiet, too quiet. Not even the hum of a refrigerator or clink of glass behind the counter. Just the sound of ceiling fans spinning lazily overhead and Araya's heels tapping against the tile floor.

She sat across from me like we were old friends, some kind of polite civility painted across her face, but I wasn't buying it. Lydia was beside me, looking terrified. I wrapped my hand around hers.

"I admit," she said, folding her hands neatly on the table, "I don't have much experience with Guardians. Or Banshees"

Lydia gave a soft, dry laugh. "That makes two of us, since I don't have much experience being one."

Araya smiled at that, genuinely, I think, but with a glint in her eye that made me tense. Like she already knew something I didn't. "I have a feeling you underestimate your abilities, Lydia."

"Trust me," She said. "You'd have better luck with tarot cards."

Her smile widened. "Let's find out."

She turned slightly, eyes scanning the café until they landed on a group of her men standing nearby. Her fingers danced along the rim of her coffee cup, slow and deliberate.

"Tell me... Which of these men is about to die?"

Lydia blinked at her. My heart dropped a little. "What?"

"How does it work?" she asked, ignoring our reactions. "Do you need to touch them? Maybe I give you something they own?" She tilted her head thoughtfully. "Or is it just a... feeling?"

"I told you," Lydia said quietly, watching her closely, "I don't know."

She leaned in slightly. "Just how close do you need to be to tell?"

Before I could interrupt, before I could even think, she pulled out a gun and a scream ripped through the café.

One of the hunters doubled over with a guttural cry, collapsing to his knees.

My body went cold. I pushed back from the table, scrambling to my feet. "Why did you do that?!"

Araya only shrugged, as if the man writhing on the floor was an inconvenience. "He stole from me."

I stared at her, horrified, chest tight, hands shaking.

I put myself between her and Lydia, immediately trying to shield her. "What do you want?"

She tilted her head again, eyes sharp now, smile gone. "Right now? I want to know about Scott McCall. I want to know what kind of an Alpha he really is."

-----☾☼-----

Kira knelt beside Scott as his eyes slowly fluttered open, the dim light above them casting sharp shadows across his face.

"He's awake!" she called out, relief flooding her voice. "Guys, he's awake!"

Stiles rushed over. "Scott, you okay?"

Scott groaned as he sat up, blinking the haze from his vision. "Yeah..." He glanced around, taking in their surroundings. "They don't have him. They don't have Derek."

Kira gave him a grim look. "We know... But right now, they've got Cassie and Lydia."

His head snapped toward her. "Cassie and Lydia? What do they want with them?"

No one had an answer.

Kira rose to her feet, pacing toward the steel door. "We already looked for a way out. I think a lot of people have."

Malia folded her arms and nodded toward the entrance. "I say, when that door opens again, we take out whoever's standing in the way and run for it."

Kira turned sharply. "What about Lydia and Cassie?"

"Cassie will find her way out. She's smart." Malia blinked, puzzled. "What about Lydia?"

Scott's voice was firm. "We're not leaving without her."

Malia frowned. "Why not?"

Stiles stared at her like she'd grown an extra head. "Because we don't leave without people. Remember, we talked about this? Rules of the wild kingdom don't apply to friends."

Kira stepped forward, her voice edged with tension. "Is that what you would do as a coyote? Leave her for dead?"

Malia shrugged. "If she was weak and injured, yeah. If hunting had been bad that season, I would eat her" She paused, catching a few raised eyebrows. "Then I'd leave."

Stiles raised a hand and gestured vaguely in her direction. "Mmm... Believe it or not, that's progress."

Scott pushed himself to his feet, a determined look settling into his features. "All right, guys. We're not dead yet, and that means Araya wants something."

Kira nodded. "But, if the Calaveras don't know where Derek is, that means they didn't take him from the loft, right?"

Stiles glanced around the room, his expression darkening. "Maybe he left on his own?"

Scott shook his head slowly. "Maybe someone else got to him..."

-----☾-----

My head was pounding. A high-pitched ringing echoed in my ears, dulling the world to a hazy blur as I blinked through the pulsing light above. Cold metal pressed into my arms and legs, tight, unyielding. I was bound to a chair. Great.

"Oh, God..." I mumbled, my voice raw. My wrists burned where the restraints bit into them. My mouth tasted like dust and blood. I turned, seeing lydia in a similar state beside me.

Across the room, I heard Scott's voice, panicked and desperate.

"Let them go!" he shouted. "Look, you've got me. Just let the others go!"

Footsteps. A man's voice, calm, cruel. "Your hand goes here."

I lifted my head as best I could, squinting through the blur until the scene started to take shape. Kira. She looked terrified. Standing by some twisted machine like something out of a nightmare. Wires. Dials. Metal plates.

Then I understood.

They were going to shock him. Or us.

"So, let me explain what's about to happen," the man—Severo, I think—said casually. "This one, the fox, has an immunity to electricity. So, she's going to turn the dial on the Alpha. If she doesn't? I turn the dial on the Guardian or Banshee."

My stomach dropped like a stone.

Kira's face went pale. "No. I'm not doing this!"

Severo's expression didn't change. "I see. Are you sure? One of your friends has the power to heal. The others? Not so much."

Scott struggled against his bindings, rage twisting his features. "What are you doing? Is this a game to you?"

Araya's heels clicked as she stepped forward. "This is a test, lobito, let's see if you pass. We're going to ask some questions. You answer them? Nobody gets hurt. You don't answer? We turn on the dial."

"Do what they say. Okay?" Scott said, locking eyes with Kira. "Whatever they want. I can take it."

Of course he would say that. That's who Scott was. The protector. The Alpha.

Araya turned to him, circling like a vulture. "So... We don't know where Derek is. We want to find him as well."

I blinked. Derek?

"You know who took him," she said, looking between me and Scott.

Scott scoffed, shaking his head. "What? How would I know that?"

Araya tilted her head, eyes narrowing. "That doesn't sound like an answer to me..."

"We don't know!" I snapped, glaring at her. "Why do you think we're here?"

Her expression didn't change. If anything, she looked... amused. "Kira, turn the dial."

Kira stood frozen.

"Should we turn the dial on Cassandra instead?" Araya said lightly, as if offering a choice between drinks.

Scott's voice broke. "No! No!" He looked at Kira, his voice hoarse. "Do it, Kira. Do it."

I knew what I had to say, even if my voice shook. "I'm okay," I managed. "It's fine. Just, do what they want."

A lie. But necessary. Araya reached forward, fingers brushing the dial.

"Let's start at one..."

And then the pain came. White-hot, but only for a moment.

"Don't make me do that again Kira." She said, turning back towards Scott.

-----☾☼-----

Stiles paced the floor, heart jackhammering in his chest. Every second dragged like an hour. The distant screams echoed through the concrete walls, distorted, faint, but unmistakably Scott's.

"Do you hear them?" he asked, voice strained, cracking. "Can you hear Scott?"

"Can you hear Kira? Cassie? Anybody?"

Malia tilted her head, brow furrowed, and not the one he wanted.

"I... I can't," she said through gritted teeth, pacing like a caged animal. "I can't concentrate. I... There's too many sounds... and voices..."

Stiles stepped toward her, hands up in a calming gesture even though he didn't feel remotely calm himself. Cassie was in there. Alone. Probably scared. Probably hurting. And Scott, God, Scott was screaming.

"Okay," he said, forcing a breath. "It's okay."

He moved beside her, giving her a smile. "Just breathe. Breathe with me, all right? You practiced this with Scott and Cassie before, remember?"

Malia blinked rapidly, jaw clenched, trying. Stiles could see the panic creeping in—just like he could feel it gnawing inside himself.

"I'm trying..." she murmured.

He swallowed hard. His voice lowered, gentled as he stepped a little closer. "It's okay. It's okay. Just focus on something."

"Here," he said. "Look at my eyes, okay?" Malia nodded slowly, shakily. "Very good," he whispered. "Just focus on the sound of my voice."

Please, he begged silently. Please, just find them.

"All you have to do is try to concentrate," he said again, voice firmer this time. "Cassie's in there. Scott's in there. We need to know what they're doing to them."

Stiles closed his eyes briefly, gripping the edge of the table until his knuckles whitened.

Just hold on, Cass. Hold on, Scott. We're coming.

-----☾-----

I gasped, chest heaving, as the dial clicked off.

"Tell me!" Araya barked, her voice sharp and cutting. "Who actually has Derek?"

My head turned toward them, watching as Scott's muscles tightened and contracted under the electricity. Scott's eyes were squeezed shut, his jaw tight with pain. He said nothing.

"Who had a reason? A vendetta particular to the Hales?" Araya pushed, circling him now.

"I said, I don't know..." Scott panted, barely holding himself upright.

Araya's tone darkened. "Oh, you don't know because you haven't figured it out yet!" she snapped, pacing in front of him. "So think! Who could have taken him?"

"Tres," Severo said behind me. His fingers hovered over the dial again, this time not mine. I felt sick.

Scott looked up. "It's okay," he rasped. The calm in his voice made my chest ache.

Araya leaned in closer. "Who had the power? The power of a shapeshifter?"

Scott shook his head weakly. "I don't know..."

Her voice rose, cold and furious. "Oh! Someone who could have turned without you knowing. Turned, but not by a bite!"

Scott's breaths came fast, short, ragged. "I don't know."

"¡Diez!" Araya shouted.

I flinched. My stomach twisted.

"¡DIEZ!"

Scott screamed. It echoed through the metal walls and straight into my chest. I twisted against the chair, raw panic flooding my limbs.

"STOP!" I shouted, my voice cracking. "STOP IT!"

But they didn't.

The electricity surged through Scott's body. His back arched violently, a roar of pain tearing from his throat.

And then something clicked inside me. Something cold. Familiar. A memory, sharp and cruel.

Her face.

The woman in the shadows. A predator's smile. Cold steel in her hands.

I forced my head up, locking eyes with Araya. My throat felt like sandpaper. My voice shook, but it came out steady.

"...Kate," I said.

Everything stopped. Even the hum of electricity seemed to pause. Araya's expression shifted. Interest. Recognition.

I breathed, barely. My voice was quieter this time, but no less certain. "Kate Argent has him."

-----☾-----

The cuffs had left burns on my wrists. I rubbed at them while Scott talked to Araya, but mostly, I was watching her.

"So... you're just letting us go?" Scott asked.

Araya tilted her head like a woman who'd already figured out the next three steps in the game. "I sent four men out to where Kate was rumored to have been seen. None of them came back. Let's see if you can do better."

I clenched my jaw. Kate. Even the name sounded like poison.

"You could've just told me she was alive," Scott said.

"You wouldn't have believed me."

No, we wouldn't have. Not without evidence. And even now, knowing she was out there, breathing, walking, killing again, I still couldn't quite wrap my head around it.

"Now I know what kind of Alpha you are," Araya continued, "and where your next step lies."

"What next step?" Scott asked.

I didn't like the sound of this.

"When you take the bite of an innocent," Araya said, and her voice chilled the air, "when you make a wolf of your own? When you do that... then I will cross your border and come knocking at your door."

I felt Stiles tense next to me. His fingers brushed mine, quick, grounding. I looked at him and nodded. I was okay.

"So what now?" Stiles asked.

"She thinks she knows where Derek is," Scott answered.

"She's gonna tell us where?" Malia asked.

"She's giving us a guide."

Someone stepped forward, and I immediately knew who it was. "Braeden," I said.

"Who's Braeden?" Malia asked.

"She's a mercenary," Lydia filled in.

"Right now, I'm the only one who's gonna take you to La Iglesia," Braeden said.

"The Church," I murmured, under my breath.

"It's not a place you'll find God," she added.

Of course not. Nothing we did ever was.

-----☾-----

"Okay, I'll ask..." Malia said, breaking the silence. "Who's Kate Argent?"

Scott hesitated. I didn't.

"She was Allison's aunt," I said, staring out the window. "And a total sociopath."

"You don't have to talk about it now if you don't want to," Kira offered.

"No, she does," Malia said bluntly. "He does."

Scott nodded. "You guys need to know."

"Kate set the fire that killed most of Derek's family," Stiles said.

"Some of them survived, like Cora and Peter," Scott added.

"A very angry Peter," Lydia mumbled.

Scott glanced back. "Yeah, he's the one who bit and turned me... and Cassie."

I nodded. "And he's also the one who caught up to Kate and killed her."

"At least, we thought so," Stiles muttered. "We saw her buried."

"We saw a casket," Scott corrected. "She wasn't in it."

As he explained what the Calaveras had told him, the healing, the switching of the bodies, the Hunter's Code, I felt my stomach twist. I remembered that funeral. I remembered thinking it was over. We should've known better. It's never over.

"She wouldn't kill herself," Scott said. "So she killed other people instead."

"Good for her," Malia said, almost proudly. "I wouldn't do it either."

"Would you kill six people to escape?" I asked quietly.

Kira's voice broke the tension. "So... Kate's a werewolf now?"

"No," I said. "She's something else."

"There's a saying," Scott added. "'Sometimes, the shape you take reflects the person you are.'"

"What kind of shape is sociopathic bitch?" Lydia asked.

Despite everything, I laughed under my breath.

Then the car jerked, hard, throwing me forward.

"What the hell?" I shouted.

"What happened?" Braeden barked, slowing to a stop beside us as we all got out of the car.

"I don't know," Stiles said, gripping the dashboard. "Felt like we hit something."

Braeden turned to us. "Scott, Cassie, we need to get there by night. It's too dangerous otherwise."

I was already stepping forward when Stiles stopped me, hand on my arm.

"Cass," he said. Just my name, but I could read everything in his face, worry, frustration, a little bit of panic. He didn't want to split up. Honestly? I didn't either.

"I'm okay," I said softly.

"Just... be careful, okay? I mean it."

I grinned and leaned in, brushing a kiss against his lips. "Careful's my middle name."

He gave me a look. "Cass."

"Okay, fine," I said, stepping back with a smirk. "More like my... third or fourth name."

He rolled his eyes, but I caught the smile before he could hide it. "Just come back to me."

"I will," I promised.

-----☾-----

We stood at the edge of the ruins like we were about to walk into a haunted painting. Everything was broken, shattered homes, collapsed streets, but the church... it loomed, untouched. Like it was watching us.

"La Iglesia," Braeden said simply, stepping forward without hesitation.

I adjusted my grip on the knives that always stayed on me now and stared at the looming structure. "What happened here?"

"An earthquake. It leveled the town."

I looked at the cracked earth, the skeletons of houses barely standing. Dust caught the fading sunlight like glitter, dancing around the decay.

"Then why is the church still standing?" Scott asked, voice quiet, almost reverent.

Braeden didn't even look back. "The locals think it's because of what's underneath..."

My stomach dropped. Yeah. Of course something had to be underneath. Something always is.

Scott frowned. "Do I wanna know?"

"It was built over the ruins of an Aztec temple. Belonged to a people called the Nagual."

I tensed. "Shapeshifters?"

Braeden nodded. "Werejaguars."

"Awesome," I muttered, already feeling the dread crawl up my spine like cold fingers. Because if Kate Argent chose this place, it meant she belonged here. And that meant trouble.

Scott looked at the towering church. "So Derek and Kate are somewhere in there?"

Braeden shrugged. "Never gotten this far before."

That wasn't exactly confidence-inspiring. We kept walking, moving deeper into the tunnels. Braeden cocked her gun.

Scott's gaze narrowed. "If you find Kate, what are you gonna do with her?"

"Bring her back to the Calaveras. That's what they paid me for."

"What happens after that?"

"Not my problem."

"You don't care?" I didn't particularly care either, Kate caused so much harm she probably was better off dead.

"She's a mass murderer," Braeden said like she was listing a weather report.

"And you're a mercenary," I said.

Braeden just grinned. "Girl's gotta eat."

"So what, you'd kill her if the price was right?" Scott asked.

"If the money was good, I'd kill you."

She didn't even blink.

I smirked back, raising an eyebrow. "You'd have to catch me first." Scott sighed as we moved deeper into the church.

"Can you catch Derek's scent?"

He took a breath, nostrils flaring. "Yeah. I already got it."

And then Scott froze.

"There's something else in here," Scott said, every muscle in his body suddenly alert.

"Something like what?" Braeden asked, scanning the darkness.

I stepped closer to Scott, my voice low. "Something not human..."

There was another pause, then she kept walking. We continued in silence for about ten minutes and then Braeden, out of nowhere, turned to Scott and said, "So, how come you didn't kiss her?"

"What?" Scott blinked like he'd been slapped with a fish.

"Your girlfriend."

I grinned, looking between them.

"Kira?" Scott looked around, like maybe she'd magically appear to bail him out.

"Whatever her name is."

I couldn't help it, I laughed. "Yeah, McCall. That was a long goodbye and zero lip-lock. What gives? I kissed my boyfriend goodbye."

Scott gave me a warning look. "We've never actually... I mean, she's not my girlfriend."

"Oh," I said innocently. "So the heart-eyes you've been throwing at her for the past two days were just... friendly glaucoma?"

Braeden laughed under her breath. "If you die down here, are you gonna regret not kissing her?"

Scott didn't answer, but the silence spoke for him.

"You should've kissed your girlfriend," Braeden muttered, loading her gun.

We turned a corner and Scott froze, I turned, my hand pulling the knife from its sheath.

"What?" I whispered.

Scott's eyes scanned the shadowed arches above. "Just had a feeling like something was behind me..."

I blinked. There was nothing there, so we continued. We made it about 10 feet deeper before Braden froze, "You hear that?" Braeden asked.

I listened, and there it was. A faint shuffle. A scrape. Metal against stone. A growl.

"Get ready." Braedens voice was a bit shaky. Her gun was pointed back behind us.

I flipped my blade in my hand, back pressed to the nearest pillar.

The sound of running came pounding towards us, then Braeden fired a shot. The flash of light and sound made me blink quickly, trying to clear my vision. Then two more, before silence fell again.

"Where is it? Do you see it?" Braeden called out.

"No!" I hissed. "I can't see anything. I don't know!"

And then the roar came again. Louder. It shook the damn floor.

"Scott, Cassie, get behind me," Braeden ordered.

I didn't need to be told twice. I darted toward her just as something blurred through the shadows, fast, heavy, impossible to see.

"Scott!" she shouted, "Get behind me!"

But instead of retreating, Scott stepped forward—eyes glowing red, claws out—and roared.

Even I flinched. The whole church shuddered. The figure was gone.

"I think I scared it," Scott said, lowering his hands.

"You scared everything," I muttered, adjusting my grip on the knife again.

The wall behind us crumbled, revealing a new room and a carving in the wall, almost like a door.

"What is that?" I whispered.

"Tezcatlipoca," Braeden said. "The Nagual jaguar god."

Great. Literal nightmare fuel.

She stepped forward, gun raised. "I think we found Derek..."

Scott nodded, expression hardening. He pressed his ear to the door

"Stand back," he told me.Then he punched through the stone.

She shined her flashlight in and I swore.

"Oh fucking shit."

"Oh my god" Scott echoed.

-----☾☼-----

It's official. My Jeep hates me.

"Maybe we should just walk..." Lydia offered, eyeing the empty desert like it might open up and swallow us whole. Honestly, that'd be preferable to what's probably actually out here with us.

"Hey," I snapped, sliding out from under the hood, grease already smeared across my hands, "I will never abandon this Jeep! You understand me? Ever."

I repeated it again. "Ever. Ever."

I don't know who I was trying to convince, Lydia, or myself. Probably both.

"Work faster, Stiles," Malia said, voice low, eyes flicking over her shoulder toward the darkness. "There's something out here with us."

Great. Of course there is.

I tried to focus on the wires, but my fingers were clumsy. Not from the cold. From anxiety. Because Cassie was still with Scott. And Scott was in a literal nightmare-jungle-temple-church-of-death with a mercenary and a werejaguar. Every second she wasn't here, I was picturing her getting ripped apart, or falling into a pit, or getting sacrificed to some jaguar god.

"Lydia, could you please hold the light still?" I muttered, squinting into the engine. "It's really hard to see anything if you keep shaking it like that..."

She sounded offended. "I'm shaking it because we're in the middle of nowhere, your Jeep is broken down, and we're being hunted by yet another razor-clawed monster—and I'm terrified!"

"Well, just be slightly less terrified!" I tossed a random part toward her. "Here. Hold this."

"What is this?" she asked, staring at it like it might explode.

"No idea. I'm hoping it's not important."

Kira was on edge, her eyes darting between shadows. "Anything?"

"It's too hard to see," Malia muttered. "We should've brought another flashlight."

I glanced at the edge of the brush and felt my chest tighten. Still no sign of Scott. Still no Cassie.

Please be okay, I thought. Please don't do anything stupid. Please don't run off trying to play hero.

Then Kira froze. "Did you see that?"

Malia lunged before any of us could react.

"Malia, wait!" Kira yelled.

"Hey, Malia!" I moved to chase after her, but she was gone in a blink. My heart leapt into my throat.

"Go!" Lydia shouted at Kira. "You, fix the Jeep!" she looked at me. "Stiles, focus!"

Right. Jeep. Wires. Fear. Monster. Cassie. My brain short-circuited from the overload.

By the time Malia came back, the jeep was running and I nearly collapsed in relief.

"Don't do that," I said, voice shaking. "Please don't do that ever again."

"Do what?" she asked, brushing herself off like she hadn't just sprinted into the darkness alone.

"I thought you just... took off. I thought you were running."

"I was running," she said, like that explained everything.

"No, I thought you were leaving."

"I wouldn't leave without you," she said, dead serious.

"Really?"

"I would never leave without you." I gave her a small smile.

Then she glanced at Lydia and Kira. "Them, I would leave."

I blinked. "Yeah... uh. That's... progress?"

Lydia crouched next to Malia, inspecting her side. "That doesn't look good."

"It's okay," Malia said quickly.

"Are you sure? It looks deep," Kira said, concerned.

"I can feel it healing."

"You didn't see anything?" Lydia asked.

"Barely. It had a strong scent, though."

"What kind of scent?" I asked, heart thudding again.

Malia looked at me, expression grim. "Like death."

My stomach turned. I looked out at the night again, like I might catch a glimpse of Cassie out there. Safe. Smirking. Yelling at me for worrying too much.

But there was nothing but darkness.

-----☾-----

We were carrying Derek from the church. Well, a version of derek. Just about 13 years younger. His feet dragged on the ground, Scott and I with his arms around our shoulders.

The jeep was waiting outside the church, our friends leaning against it. I caught Stiles' eye, seeing his wide eyes and open mouth.

"Is that him? Is that Derek?" Malia asked.

"Uh... Sort of..." Stiles said back.