Teen Wolf Season from from Satomi's pack POV

So this is a short story I wrote over two years ago. It used to be up here but when I was looking for it today it was gone.  I must have accidentally deleted it when I was moving things around a while back.  Anyway, here it is again.  Teen Wolf season four through the eyes of Satomi's pack. 

Satomi Ito looked over the faces of her pack, gathered together at a rest stop on one of the park’s walking trails.  It was the middle of the day, so there were only a handful of other people out taking a quick walk or jog during their lunch break.   

                “I asked you all to meet me here because it will be easier for me to tell everyone at once,” she explained.  She took a breath and then went right to the point.  “Yesterday afternoon, I was attacked.  The man was skilled, not just a common thug.”

                “Do you think it was a hunter?”  Carlos Mariana asked as a concerned murmur rippled through the pack. 

                Satomi shook her head.  “No, I don’t think so.  He didn’t use any tactics typical of a hunter.”  She paused, remembering the incident.  “I’m not sure what he was, but he must have known I was a werewolf.”  She took something out of her pocket and held it up for the others to see.  “He missed, but I found this on the ground afterward.”

                “Is that an actual silver bullet?”  Jane Talbot asked, taking it from her.

                Satomi nodded.  “An amateur’s mistake.” 

                Several people leaned in to look at the bullet, their expressions dark. 

                “As I said, I don’t know who he was, or what code he goes by, but we will all need to be cautious.  He may have been after only me, or he may have plans against us all.”

                “But we haven’t hurt anyone,” Haru Fujita said.  “We haven’t done anything.”

                “You know that doesn’t always mater,” Satomi answered.  It hadn’t been a year since the Argent family had set up a base in nearby Beacon Hills with plans to hunt down every werewolf in the area.  Satomi had hoped they would be safe now that the Argents had moved on, but it would seem some other threat was now looming over them. 

                                                                                 . . .

                “So, you ready for the chemistry test?”  Travis asked, raising his voice a little to be heard over the morning commotion in the school’s hallway.  It was unnecessary, his companion would still have been able to hear him if he had whispered, but Travis had no way of knowing that. 

                Brett Talbot shut his locker.  “Is anybody ever ready for the chemistry tests?”

                Travis shrugged and they started down the hall.  “You know, for some reason, I thought the second year of chemistry would be easier.  Like after all that work last year we’d finally have a grasp on it and it would be downhill from there.”

                Brett scoffed. “In AP?”

                “Yeah, I should have switched to normal chemistry.”

                “Brett!” a girl called behind them.

                Brett smiled and turned to see Dawn Cavaro hurrying to catch up to them. 

                “Hey,” he said, giving her a quick hug.  “How’s your grandpa?”

                “Better,” Dawn answered.  “They did finally figure out what the problem was and let him go home yesterday.  They said he should be ok.”

                “So you just got back?”

                “Yeah,” she nodded, “we drove in late last night.”

                “I would not have come to school,” Travis said.

                “My parents said I didn’t have to, but I had a test today and two more tomorrow,” she answered.  “So I needed to get in today’s lessons for the tests tomorrow and now I’m just hoping that most of today’s will not be over the stuff I missed this week.”

                “Well, I can help you out with some of that.”  Brett slid the strap of his backpack off his shoulder and reached into the bag.  “I made a copy of my notes for when you came back.  The chemistry ones won’t do you much good since there’s only like ten minutes before class starts, but maybe the pre-calc ones will help.”  He pulled out a few papers and held them out to her.

                “Thank you.” She smiled and took them.  “You’re so considerate.”

                “No,” Travis said, “if he was considerate he would have taken notes for your government class.”

                “He’s not in my government class.”

                “I know,” Travis said, nodding. “That’s why it would have been considerate.  It probably took him two minutes to do that.”

                “Whatever.” Dawn waved a dismissive hand.  “But I could not ask him to sit through that period of monotonous, rambling torture.”  She rolled her eyes and looked back at Brett. “I appreciate them.”

                “Not a problem.”

                “So, I wanted to ask you to come over for dinner sometime when you’re free,” she continued. “While we were up there, my Nonna taught me how to make this chicken marsala that is amazing and I’m going to do my best to recreate it.”

                “Sure,” Brett said as they stopped outside the chemistry room.  “We’ve got the scrimmage tonight but tomorrow or Sunday is good for me.”

                “Great, tomorrow night then.”  Dawn started to walk into the room, then stopped.  “Oh, I’ve got to go turn in my excuse slip thing real quick.  I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”  She turned and headed back down the hall at a brisk pace.

                Travis sighed and shot Brett an annoyed look. 

                “What?” Brett asked, turning his gaze from Dawn. 

                “When I go to my girlfriends for dinner, we eat hamburger helper.”

                “Well then you just need to date an Italian.”

                They stepped into the room and made for their usual desks.  “I thought she was only like a third Italian.”

                Brett shrugged.  “Yeah, but she cooks like a full.”  He grinned mischievously.  “You want me to tell you what we had the last time I was over there?”

                “No,” Travis said, dropping his chemistry book on his desk with a loud thunk.  He opened the cover and pulled out a scrap of notebook paper.  “I want you to forget about it and quiz me on these definitions before we get started.”   

                                                                                 . . .

                “So,” Travis said, craning his neck to see out the window as the bus pulled into the parking lot.  “Beacon Hills.”

                “Mmm,” Brett grunted acknowledgement and stood, stretching.  He stepped into the isle and followed the guys in front of him off the bus.

                As soon as he stepped through the door and into the open air Brett was struck by the almost overwhelming scent of anger.  Pure rage-- strong, raw, and violent.  An animalistic grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.  He’d only ever come across one person who smelled of anger like that.  Liam Dunbar.      

                “Brett.”  Yep, there he was, marching over to the bus, practically shaking with barely contained anger.  “I just wanted to say,” he paused and then held out his hand.  “Have a good game.”

                What?  Brett laughed.  That was definitely not what he had come over here to say.

                “That’s cute Liam,” he said.  “Is that what they told you to say in anger management?  Apologize and everything’s fine?”  All the amusement left his voice.  “You demolished Coach’s car.”

                “I paid for it,” Liam growled.

                “Yeah, you’re gonna pay for it,” Brett said, nodding.  “We are gonna break you in half out there.  And it’s gonna be all, your, fault,” he finished, lingering on each of the last words to let them really sink in. 

                Liam stiffened even farther, sucking in a breath. 

                Go on, hit me, Brett mentally bated him.  Show your new team how you are.

                But before Liam had the chance two other kids ran up.  One of them grabbed Liam by the shoulders and pulled him back.  The other quickly positioned himself between Brett and Liam.

                “Hey, hey.  What’s going on prep students,” he said, grinning at them. “Welcome to our little public high school.  How you doing?”  He held his hand out to Brett.  “I’m Stiles.  That’s a firm handshake you got there,” he said, even though Brett had not shaken his hand.  He continued to babble on, ignoring the blank stares they were all giving him.   “We’re very excited for the scrimmage tonight but let’s keep it clean.  You know, no rough stuff out there.  So, yeah.   All right, see you on the field.”  He turned and looked at the boy holding Liam, pointing towards the school doors.  “Go.”

                Brett watched them go for a second, tilting his head slightly, trying to catch what remained of the scent he’d noticed when they’d first come up.  Yeah, that Hispanic kid hurrying Liam off was a werewolf.  Hmm, he thought. That should make the game interesting. 

                “I paid for it,” KC parroted Liam, then laughed, the others joining in.

                One of the other boys snorted.  “Yeah right.  Doctor Daddy paid for it.”

                “Well he gets to pay for it tonight.”

                “Shh,” Brett cautioned them, glancing meaningfully at the coach, who was just stepping off the bus.  He always road in the back, so he could keep an eye on all of them,  which meant he probably noticed the confrontation but he wouldn’t have heard anything that was said. 

                Liam hadn’t made a lot of friends on the team last season.  He played too rough, he thought he knew how to play better than anybody else, and he often yelled at the others.  He and Brett had butted heads a lot. 

                Liam’s bad attitude and poor sportsmanship, combined with the fact that he’d started several fights at practice, had kept him on the bench almost every game.  In retaliation, he had taken a crow bar to their coach’s car.  The thing had looked like it had run through the works at a junkyard by the time he was done with it.  And that had pretty much secured him the hatred of anyone left on the team he hadn’t already ticked off.  Coach seemed willing to let bygones be bygones, but the boys had other plans.

                                                                  . . .

“All right, remember guys, it’s just a scrimmage,” Coach Tom instructed.  “We’re going to focus on learning how to run our plays and how to work as a team.  I want you to do well, but don’t get too caught up with the score.  Got it?”

The boys standing around him nodded and muttered acknowledgement.  Coach turned to Brett.  “They’re all yours.”

“All right,” Brett said, clapping his hands together and stepping forward.  “You guys know what to do out there.”  He swept a knowing glance over everyone.  “Let’s get stretched out.”

Brett had had a private conversation with the team after the last practice.  Yes, they were going to practice running their plays in an actual game.  Yes, they were going to work on learning to play as a team.  But yes, they were going to worry about the score.  No mercy rule, no pulling back once they got ahead.  They were going to run Beacon Hills into the ground.  Just for Liam.  

Once they finished stretching they started getting their equipment on.  Brett could see Liam watching him from across the field.  He was talking about him to some other kid, who was also staring at Brett, just in a very different way.  Brett pretended to ignore both of them but he did let himself listen in to what they were saying.  He smiled to himself.  Liam was sufficiently worried; with good reason. 

“Brett,” KC grabbed his arm and pointed to one of the Beacon Hills players.  “Look, they’ve got a girl.”

“Naw.” Brett shook his head.  “No, he’s just-“  Actually that was a very feminine face.  His gaze traveled down the rest of the kid’s body.  “Ok, you’re right, it’s a girl.  Hey,” he called to the Beacon Hills coach, gesturing to the girl.  “This is not supposed to be a co-ed sport.”

“It doesn’t say that in the rules,” their coach called back in a sing-song voice, way too pleased with himself.

By then, several of the others had noticed her too. 

“Can they do that?”

“There has got to be a rule about that.”

“Coach?”

Coach Tom raised a placating hand to his players.  “I’ll look into it.  Just calm down, we’ll get it worked out.”

“But that can’t be fair,” Cameron insisted.

“Hang on.” Coach Tom looked up to the other coach, who had walked over to them.  “Can you possibly keep her on the sidelines until I can check the rules?”

“No need, I’ve got the rules right here.”  The other coach flourished a piece of paper.  “She’s totally legal.  So just tell you’re boys to stop whining.”

He walked off as another round of protest rose up from the Deavenford boys.

“Ok, come here,” Brett said, waving the others to him.  Everyone huddled up.  “Between the pads and the helmet you won’t be able to who she is.”  He paused, still forming his solution in his mind.  “So, just play like normal and don’t worry about which one is the girl.”

“But what if we hurt her?”  Cameron asked.

“See that’s what they want us to worry about.  They’re trying to use it to get an edge on us.”  It was a pretty low strategy, and Brett felt like it should be against the rules.  But since it wasn’t, they’d have to deal with it.  “Look, she’s the one who decided to play.  It’s a rough sport, people get hurt.  Like I said, don’t try to figure out where she is.  Just play.”

Within the first few minutes of the game, Brett had gotten the ball, easily maneuvered around the Beacon Hills defense and made a shot. 

Too easy, he thought.  These guys were gonna have to step it up if beating them was going to be any fun at all. 

He pointed at Liam, skulking a few feet off, as he walked back to his side.  “That’s one.”

Brett knelt at the half-line in front of the Hispanic werewolf, who was apparently Beacon Hill’s team captain, and the ref set the ball down between them.

“Brett?”  The other kids said quietly.

Brett looked up at him, questioningly.

“I know you guys feel like you owe Liam some payback for what he did, but could you just hold off for one night?  Trust me, one night.”

“Yeah.” Brett nodded.  “I can do that?”

“Really?”

Brett scoffed.  “No.”

Then the ref blew the whistle and Brett had the ball again.  Liam ran for him, but two of the Devenford boys cut him off, knocking him to the ground.  No one else got in his way and he made another shot.

There it was again; that blood thirsty rage.  This time the scent was so strong Brett had to take a breath to keep from partially shifting in response.  Liam jerked himself up off the ground, and threw off his helmet and gloves.  Panting, he threw himself at the boys who had blocked him, but two of his teammates grabbed him before he got to them.  They held him until he stopped struggling and everyone made their way back to their positions.

As Liam’s anger faded, Brett caught what might be the scent of another werewolf, a different one than the captain.  But the rage smell was too thick for him to zero in on who it was.  Brett shook his head.  Between Liam and two other werewolves, they’d be lucky if they didn’t end up in a fight before this game was over.

The Beacon Hills kid missed the pass and the ball went rolling across the ground.  Brett dove for it, scrambling to get there first.  Liam and one of their other players slammed into him, one of them flipping over him and they all hit the ground.

The ref blew the whistle.  Brett groaned, rolling over onto his back, and gritted his teeth.  He couldn’t move his left leg from the knee down.  Several of his team mates had gathered around him.  He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned his head to see his coach kneeling over him.  “Are you ok?”

Brett grunted against the pain in his leg and cried out. 

 “What hurts?” the coach asked, sweeping his gaze over him.

Brett tried to sit up, but he barely got his head off the ground when a wave of dizziness hit him, pain shooting through his lower leg.  “Ahh.”  He forced several quick breaths out through his teeth, afraid to look down at it.  It hurt on the outside of his calf, which meant the bone had probably broken and was sticking out.  He yelled into his teeth.  Ugh, how was he going to explain that when it healed.

 “All right,” Coach said, “we’re going to pick you up now.”

Brett felt hands on both his upper arms and they pulled him to his feet.  That made the dizziness and the pain worse.  He cried out again, hopping all his weight onto his other leg.  Coach put Brett’s arm over his shoulder and dragged him off the field. 

 “Cameron,” Coach said over his shoulder.  “Tell Travis to move up to Brett’s position and Daniel to go in where Travis was.”

“Right.”

Coach Tom laid Brett on his back on the sidelines and helped get his helmet off.  “All right, you were dragging your leg, is that what it is?”  He felt the coach’s hands on his leg and he tried to slow down his breathing and tell himself to relax.  Coach’s fingers brushed a certain spot on his calf and he jerked his leg away, moaning at the shock of pain the touch brought on. 

Was that a cut?  He looked closer.  Yes, there was a thin line of red on the side of his calf.  He knew that hadn’t been there earlier.  But where had it come from?  There shouldn’t be anything sharp out there. 

“Brett, I don’t see anything wrong with it.”

“What do you mean there’s nothing wrong with it?”  Brett demanded. 

“It’s not broken.”

Not broken?  Then why did it hurt so much?  Something was wrong with it.  Did it have to do with that cut?  He still had no idea where that had come from.  Were there hunters out here tonight? Someone had tried to kill Satomi just a few days ago, it might be the same ones. But how would they get to him one the field?  Unless maybe it was one of the kids.  But-

“Hey, calm down,” the coach said, putting a hand on his shoulder.  “Look at me, ok?  You need to calm down.”   

Brett nodded, taking a deep breath.  Even if there were hunters, they couldn’t get to him right now.  Not in front of all these people. 

A whistle blast rang out from the field, shrill and amplified.  Brett groan and reached his hands up towards his ears.  All of a sudden a lot of noise was coming in too loud. 

Brett tried again to sit up.  He needed to get a better look at that cut, it had to have something to do with this.  But the dizziness hit again along with an ache in his temples.  He moaned and let his head fall back against the grass, shutting his eyes.

“Is he ok?” The other team’s coach asked. 

“No, I don’t know what’s wrong with him though.  Open your eyes for me, Bud.”  Brett did.  “His pupils look kind of dilated, maybe a concussion.”

  Brett shook his head.  He knew it wasn’t a concussion, he hadn’t been hit in the head.  Before he could say so he felt his stomach twist.  “I’m gonna be sick.”

“Ok, hey.” Coach started to help him sit up. 

“Why don’t you take him to our locker room,” the Beacon Hills coach offered. 

“Here, I’ve got him.”  That was a medic, taking his arm and pulling him to his feet.  “I’ll take him back there and check him out.”

“All right, I’m going to call his parents.”

The medic struggled to help Brett to the locker room.  Brett tried to help him as much as he could, but his other leg was going dead too, so he could barely shuffle along, fighting the pain in his leg, and the dizziness, and the urge to throw up.

Luckily it wasn’t that far.  Once they got inside Brett slipped away from the medic and grabbed the lip of the nearest sink with both hands.  His knees gave out and he pitched forward, nearly knocking his head against the sink. 

“Whoa kid.” He felt the medics hand on his back, then suddenly it was gone and the man fell to the floor, unconscious.

Brett stared at him in confusion for a second, then he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up, his human hackles raising.  Hunters.  Whatever was wrong with him was their fault, and now they had him alone, defenseless.

He tried to get up, but his legs were now all but paralyzed, so instead he started pulling himself forward, one hand at a time, using the strength of his arms.  Then in front of him he saw a pair of boots.  He looked up and found himself staring at a teenaged black girl. 

“What did you do to me?” he demanded.

“You’ve been cut with a poison blade,” she explained, stalking closer to him. “It was laced with wolfsbane.  It won’t kill you,” she said, fiddling with something in her hands, “but this will.”

She had some kind of wire, and it was turning red, hot, like it had been in a fire.  Brett set his jaw and began pulling himself forward again.  If he could just get back out to the field where other people would see- But he couldn’t move fast enough. 

“Why-why are you doing this?” he panted.  Come on, you’ve got to get out of here.

She lashed out with her leg, knocking one of his arms out from under him.  “Because you’re worth a lot of money, Brett.”  She stepped over him, straddling him.  As he tried to pull himself back up she slipped the wire over his head and pulled it tight around his neck with a zip, jerking his head up.  As the chord cut off his airway, Brett felt a surge of power, like the wolf part of him was making one last effort to save him.  But then the wire went hot, searing into his skin.  Brett clawed at the floor with his fingers, panic overwhelming him.  This was it.  This was how he was going to die.  Dark spots swum across his vision, and then it went completely black.

Brett jerked, eyes flying open.  He was laying flat on his stomach on the locker room floor.  The girl was gone, but someone else was standing in front of him.  The other werewolf.  He opened his mouth to warn him about the hunter, but then she appeared was behind him. 

She slid the wire over the other boy’s head and pulled it tight.  He jerked his hands up to his throat, trying to grab it.

  “He said we shouldn’t try,” she said, a crazy light in her eyes as she tried to jerk the wire tighter.  “But now I’ve got you, I’ve got an alpha.” 

Brett heard the other boy growl, deep in his throat.  He had the wire in his hand, pulling it away from his neck.  He turned to the girl, eyes glowing red.  She was in trouble now.  He grabbed her by the throat and slammed her against the wall, knocking her out.  Brett sighed as her unconscious body hit the floor and let his head rest on the concrete.     

With one last glance at the girl to make sure she was unconscious, the alpha turned his gaze to Brett.  “Are you all right?” he asked.

Brett sucked in a pained breath, rolling onto his side and shook his head.  “No.”  He reached down to touch the scratch on his leg, finally able to get a good look at it.  It wasn’t deep, definitely not deep enough for it to hurt as much as it did, but the wound and the skin around it were already a sickly yellow green. 

The other boy knelt beside him and studied the cut.  “Wolfsbane?”

“Yeah, that’s what she said.” 

“Ok,” the other boy nodded.  “We’ve got to get you some help.  I know a guy that should know what to do.”  He stood and took a step toward the door.

Brett looked down at the floor. “I can’t get up.”

“Here, I’ll help you.  We’ve got to go before some adults show up and try to take you to the hospital.”

Brett nodded and the alfa grasped his forearm, pulling him to his feet.  The locker room spun wildly, the pounding in his head intensified and Brett felt himself falling.

“Whoa.”  The other boy caught him, placing a steadying hand on his chest and Brett squeezed his eyes shut, trying to regain his balance.  “You ok?”

After a few shaky breaths, Brett nodded.  “Yeah, I can go now.”   

“Ok.”  The alpha swung Brett’s arm over his shoulder and with his help Brett was able to stumble outside.

“Stiles!” the alpha called and another boy hurried up to them.  The chatty one from the bus.

“Ok, I called my dad,” he said.  “He said he’ll be over here with some people as fast as he can.”

“Good,” the alpha said.  “Let’s get to your car before they get here.  You’ve got to get him to Deaton.”

“Ok, right.  Wait,” the other boy stopped short and pointed at himself. “I have to get him to Deaton?”

“Yes.  Violet just tried to kill us both.  She’s unconscious in there and I have to stay and tell the police what happened.”  The alpha started walking again.  “So yeah you’re taking him.  I’ll call Derek and have him meet you there in case you need help.  It’ll be fine.”

  The three of them hurried across the parking lot to an old blue jeep where the alpha helped Brett into the passenger’s seat.  “You’re going to be ok,” he told him, laying a hand on his shoulder.

Brett nodded.  “Thanks.”

“Well, I wouldn’t thank him just yet,” Stiles said, climbing in behind the wheel and starting the car. 

They rode the first few miles in silence, the only sounds the hum of the motor and Brett’s labored breathing.  The pain in his leg was getting worse and it was spreading.  He could feel his heart beating way too fast, hammering away behind his ribs.  Brett closed his eyes, leaning his head against the window, trying not to think about what was happening to him.  But still that terrifying word kept echoing through his mind.  Dying.  He found himself wishing his parents had come to the game tonight.  It was a scrimmage, he’d told them not to bother, but if they had, they’d be here right now.  They’d probably know what to do. 

He heard himself whimper.  No, he told himself.  He was not going to do that.  If he was going to die, it wasn’t going to be crying for his mommy.  But why hadn’t he let her come to the game?

Brett jerked and barely stifled an outcry, his hand shooting toward his leg as a jolt of pain ran through him from the cut, this time through his whole body.  Looking down at his hands he sucked in a breath.  His claws were out.  He hadn’t asked for them and he couldn’t make them go back.  No come on, he pleaded in his mind.  It had been so long since he’d lost control, and now was definitely not a good time.  He groaned and gripped the door handle, biting his lip against the pain so hard it bled. 

“Whoa, buddy,” the other boy said, looking across at him with a mixture of concerned sympathy and fear.  He opened and closed his mouth a few times, searching for words, then turned his eyes back to the road. “Just please don’t scratch the seats.

By the time the jeep stopped Brett’s hands were shaking, his vision was a blur and every sound came in muffled.

“Ok, we’re here,” Stiles said, throwing his door open.  “Told you we’d make it.  Just hang in there a little bit longer all right?  Derek!  Give me a hand over here.”

                                                                       . . .

Dr. Deaton had reached his office just a few moments before Derek and Peter Hale.  None of them had a very clear idea about what was happening.  All they knew was that they had both gotten a call from Scott asking them to come here, that some werewolf had been hurt and needed their help. 

They hadn’t been waiting long before the jeep pulled up.  Stiles jumped out of the front seat and yelled for Derek who ran over to the car.  Deaton held the door open as Derek and Stiles dragged in a semi-conscious boy in lacrosse gear. 

“Lay him on the table in the back,” Deaton instructed.  “And get those pads off of him so I can look him over.”

Derek nodded and sliced open the boy’s shirt with the claws of one hand.  He pulled off the fabric and quickly stripped him of the protective pads. 

“All right,” Deaton said, stepping over to the table with a small flashlight in hand.  “Just relax.  Let’s see if we can figure out what’s the matter with you.” He shone the light inside one of the boys eyes, making him flinch.  His eyes were the glowing yellow of a werewolf, but they were glazed.  He was breathing hard, the air rattling in his chest.

“He was cut with a knife or something,” Stiles explained at Deaton’s elbow.  “I think it’s on his leg.”

“Yes, I see it.” Deaton placed the fingers of one hand on either side of the cut, pulling it open gently to peer inside.  The cut wasn’t deep but it was tinted yellow, the skin around it noticeably inflamed.  “How long ago was he cut?”

“I don’t know,” Stiles answered, running his hands through his hair.  “Less than thirty minutes.”

  If it was wolfsbane it should be purple, with dark veins spreading out from it.  And it wouldn’t have him in a state like this so quickly.  Unless… Deaton leaned over the boy to smell his breath.  Yes, that was it.  He stepped over to the counter against the wall and opened a drawer.   

The boy’s whole body started to shake, his muscles convulsing so strongly it nearly threw him off the table. 

“Hold him,” Deaton instructed.

Derek put his hands on the boy’s shoulders.

“It’s all right,” Deaton tried.  “You’re going to be all right.”  He wasn’t certain the boy could process the words, but he hoped at least the tone would calm him down.  Not that it would do much good.  Deaton pulled a scalpel out of the drawer and went back to the table.  “Help him Stiles,” he said, nodding at Derek.

Stiles stepped over to the table and took hold of the boys other arm.  Even between the two of them they could barely hold him.  The table shook and rattled under the boy’s seizing body.  Yellow foam spurted up out of his mouth, choking him. 

Deaton licked his lips.  The boy would die in the next few minutes if he didn’t do this soon.

“What is happening to this kid?” Stiles asked, struggling to hold him down. 

“He’s been poisoned by a rare wolfsbane,” Deaton explained, coming over to the table holding a scalpel.  “I need to make an incision and you need to hold him as still as possible.” 

“Hey, Derek,” Stiles said, dodging some of the yellow stuff, “how about a little werewolf strength.”

“Yeah, well I’m not the only one here with werewolf strength,” Derek snapped, glancing down at the boy.

“If you can’t hold him still the incision might kill him,” Deaton insisted.  He laid one hand on the boy’s chest and tried to move the scalpel into position. 

The boy’s eyes widened, the fear behind them growing as his gaze focused on the knife.  With a growl, be lashed out with his arms and legs, throwing all three of them into the walls.  He jumped off the table, glancing around, confused.

He turned toward the door and was stopped in his tracks by a blow to the jaw from Peter Hale, who had stood at the door frame the whole time watching.  The boy hit the floor, stunned, and they all stared at Peter for a moment.

Peter blinked, his eyes changing from the glowing werewolf blue back to their less intense human shade.  “I guess I’ve still got a little werewolf strength myself.”

 “Maybe more than a little.”  Derek said. 

“Hey Doc.”  Stiles was staring down at the boy.  “I don’t think he’s breathing.”

He and Deaton knelt on the floor and Deaton slid the scalpel into the skin of the boy’s chest just under his collar bone.  The boy gasped and struggled to get a breath as Deaton dragged the knife down the length of his sternum.  A yellow gas floated up from the cut and dissipated in the air.  The boy finally managed to suck in a breath and his gasps changed to quieter panting.   

“Is he ok?” Stiles asked.

“I think he’ll be fine, but he’ll probably be out for a while,” Deaton answered.

“Guys, can you hear that,” Stiles said, leaning closer.  “I think he’s saying something.”

Deaton leaned in as well, barely catching the words as he repeated them.

 “The sun, the moon, the truth,” the boy murmured.  “The sun, the moon, the truth.”  Then his fluttering eyelids stilled and he slipped into unconsciousness.

Deaton sat back on his heels.  So that’s who he belonged to.  “Three things cannot long be hidden,” he said.  “The sun, the moon, and the truth.  It’s Buddhist.”  He turned to Derek, knowing he would also make the connection.

Behind them, Peter forced out a breath.  “Satomi.”        

                                                                       . . .

Dawn shut the door of her car and studied the building warily.  Why would he ask me to come to a vet’s office? she wondered.  Of course, she’d been asking herself that the whole drive over and had yet to come up with an answer.  She knew this should feel wrong, but somehow it didn’t.  She tilted her nose ever so slightly and tested the air.  Nothing set off any alarm bells.  Sweeping her gaze over the area one last time, she took a breath and headed for the door. 

She was greeted by the tinkling of a small bell above her head when she pushed the door open and a middle-aged black man stepped out from a back room. 

“Good morning,” he said, smiling pleasantly.  “May I help you?”  He had a gentle sounding voice, kind.  She felt herself relax, but only just a little. 

“Yes,” she said, brushing a strand of her dark hair behind her ear.  “This is going to sound really weird, but I’m here for a friend of mine.  He said he needed a ride home.”

Surprisingly, he just nodded, like it was something he heard every day. “Yes, we’ve been waiting for you.  Right this way.”  The man opened a waist high gate in the counter and motioned her through. 

She stepped into the back room and found Brett, sitting on a metal table, wearing a shirt that looked a size too big. 

Dawn let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.  “You know, when you ask me to come to a vet’s office to pick you up, I thought you were either drunk or playing a joke.”

Brett made a face.  “Neither of those sound much like me.”

“Yeah,” she said. “Which is why I also kind of thought it was a trap.”  She took a step into the room then jerked back, wrinkling her nose as an acrid, decaying scent hit her.

“It’s all right.”  She felt the vet’s hand on her shoulder as she accidentally bumped into him.  “That smell is a rare form of wolfsbane, but there is no danger from it now.” 

“Wolfsbane?” Dawn felt her heart speed up.  She furrowed her brow and crossed over to the table, placing a hand on Brett’s knee.  “Baby are you ok?”

“I am now,” he said, pushing himself off the table.  He glanced at her a little sheepishly.  “Sorry I had to call you but I couldn’t get a hold of my parents.”

“They’re not home.”  Dawn shook her head.  “Satomi took more than half of everyone into the woods.  My parents too.”

“Why?” he asked, concern darkening his eyes.  “What’s going on?”

She glanced out of the corner of her eye at the vet.  “I don’t know.”

“What about Lori?”

“No,” Dawn assured him, “she’s with me.  I told her to wait in the car.”

Brett set his jaw and nodded, then looked to the door.  “We should get going.”  He turned to the vet and paused, like he wasn’t sure how to say what he wanted to.  After a minute he just said, “Thank you.”

The man smiled.  “Don’t mention it, I was happy to help.”

Dawn felt Brett’s fingers brush her arm, guiding her toward the door.  She smiled at the vet, not quite sure what to make of him, and followed Brett out. 

“Are you sure you’re ok?” she asked as they stepped outside.  He looked pretty tired, and the scent of wolfsbane still clung to him.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

She raised an eyebrow at him and he shrugged.  “Fine, I do feel a little bit sick, but he said I might for a little while.  I’m ok though.”

“You didn’t say anything about wolfsbane on the phone,” she said, fiddling with the hem of her jacket, her voice coming out clipped.

He stiffened.  “I didn’t think I needed to, there wasn’t anything to worry about any more.”

Dawn bit her lip and rounded on him.  Wolfsbane was poison.  He didn’t think he needed to mention that?  “You almost died didn’t you?”

Brett sighed and looked away.  “Yeah,” he answered quietly, looking back at the vet’s office.  “If they hadn’t gotten me to him when they did I would have been done for.”

Dawn softened her expression.  She shouldn’t be mad at him.  She really wasn’t even mad, she realized.  Not at him anyway.  This whole thing with the hunters just had her on edge.  “Who is he?”

“He was the Hale’s druid.  I guess he’s with the true alpha’s pack now.”

They started walking again, toward her car. “Is that who brought you here?” she asked.    

Brett nodded. 

“How did you get into wolfsbane?”

“Somebody on the field last night,” he muttered.

“One of the kids?” Dawn’s eyes widened.  “In front of all those people?”  Did they really have to worry about everyone, everywhere now? 

“Look, I’ll tell you later,” he said, rubbing a hand across his eyes.  “I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

“Ok.”  They walked in silence until they were almost to the car then Dawn shook her head to flip her hair over her shoulder, as if she could shake her worry off.  Time for some lighter conversation.  She forced a smile as she walked around the car toward the driver’s door.  “So how did the game go?”

Brett half-smiled.  “We murdered them.”

“Got back at Liam?”

“Oh yeah.”

Dawn opened the door and fell into her seat.  “Mission accomplished then.”

                                                                  . . .  

After Brett explained everything he had just told Dawn to Lori, they road in silence the rest of the way home.  Dawn pulled into the driveway and had barely put the car in park before she had her phone out.  She held it up to her ear and it rang until it was answered by a voice message. 

“Hrr.” Dawn jabbed her thumb into the end call button. “No answer.”  She ran and hand through her hair, leaning her head back against the seat. 

“Let’s try mine again.”  Brett leaned forward from the back seat and looked at his sister.  “Have you got your phone?  Mine’s still in Beacon Hills.”

“Yeah.” She nodded, reaching behind her to pull it out of her back pocket. 

“Call Mom or Dad.”

Lori tapped through the commands and set the phone down on the armrest on speaker. 

Brett found himself holding his breath.  Come on, pick up.  It wasn’t like his parents to not answer their phones.  He’d tried to call both of them hours ago, several times.  One of them should have called back by now. 

On the fourth ring, Lori cocked her head to the side.

“What?” Brett asked.

“It’s ringing inside,” she said quietly.

They all got out of the car and hurried inside the house.  The phone chimed out its last ring, sitting on the kitchen counter.

“Try Dad,” Brett instructed, still staring at the phone.  His mom wouldn’t have left it.  Not while he was at a lacrosse game.    

As soon as Lori hit call they heard another phone from farther in the house.  Brett knit his eyebrows together.  Why had they both left their phones?

“Brett, look at this,” Dawn said from the hallway.

He stepped out of the kitchen and saw her pointing to the wall.  There was a post it note stuck to the kitchen door frame.  He’d walked right past it on the way in.  The writing was his mother’s, but sloppy, like she’d been in a hurry. 

He pulled it off the wall and read:  Brett, We had to leave with Satomi.  Not sure when we’ll be back.  There’s money in the drawer if you need it.  Love you.

 He crumpled the paper up in his hand and turned to Lori.  “What happened yesterday?”

“I don’t know,” she shook her head quickly.  “I haven’t been home since you have.  I spent the night with Katie, remember?”

Brett forced out a frustrated sigh and paced a few steps away.  None of this made any sense.  If they had to leave they would have left them a way to get in touch with them.  He looked back at Dawn.  “Do you know what happened?”

She shook her head.  “Not really.  All I know is that almost everyone went to Lookout Point yesterday.  Even my dad.”

That didn’t make sense either.  Lookout Point was a normal meeting place, but Dawn’s dad was human, and he had almost nothing to do with werewolves outside of the two in his house. 

“I thought maybe it was just to talk about the hunters,” Dawn continued.  “I was sure they’d be back by now.”

For a moment, no one said anything, worry hanging thick in the air among them. 

Demarco had been murdered last week.  Carrie Hudson had gone missing two nights ago.  Hunters had nearly killed him last night.  Had they gone after their parents too?

No, he told himself.  If the whole pack was out there that was nearly thirty wolves.  No hunters would be that stupid.  But then why weren’t they back yet? 

Brett sighed and tried to push all the jumbled thoughts to the back of his mind, feeling even more tired.  He couldn’t process all this right now.  He looked down at the crumpled note in his hand.  Don’t know when we’ll be back.  “Mom knew they might be gone a while,” he said.  “For all we know they’re fine.”

The girls nodded. 

“Right,” Lori said.  “Maybe whatever they’re doing just takes a long time.”

It wasn’t much to go on, but at least that line in the note meant there was a chance that everything was all right. 

“Yeah, let’s hope so.”  Dawn sighed, turning toward the door.  “I guess I should get going then.”

“Or you could hang out here,” Brett offered.  “I mean, if you don’t want to be home by yourself.”  Even if their parents were fine, there were still hunters around.  It wouldn’t be safe for her to be alone.

“Ok.  I was kind of hoping you’d say that actually,” she said.  “Thanks.”

                                                                   . . .

Satomi rubbed a tired hand across her eyes.  So many had died in such a short time.  And it seemed the rest would soon follow.  Nearly the entirety of her pack lay here in the woods, struck by some mysterious disease, and she could think of nothing to save them. 

Not moments ago Haru had passed.  At least they’d managed to keep from him that his daughter, little Rose had died a few hours before.  She was only two years old.  Satomi had a plan to explain the other deaths, but she didn’t know what she would say happened to Rose.  Haru had two older children as well, human children.  Their mother would get full custody of them now, if she wanted them, but it was more likely the grandparents would take them. 

“I can’t see,” came a voice, interrupting Satomi’s thoughts.  “Brandon, I can’t see.” 

Satomi went over to where Jane and Brandon Talbot sat, leaning against a tree.  Brandon, half transformed, held his wife close, whispering something to her.  Satomi knelt beside them, laying a comforting hand on each of them.  By now they all knew, blindness was the last stage.

“Satomi,” Jane whispered. 

“Yes, I’m here.”

“Take care of my babies,” she said, her sightless eyes pleading.  “Brett and Lori.  Look after them once we’re gone.”

“You know I will,” Satomi assured her. 

“Tell them I love them.”

Satomi nodded.  “Of course.”

Jane relaxed and shut her eyes.  A few minutes later she was gone.  Brandon took a shuddering breath and hugged her body even closer, tears welling up in his glowing eyes.  Looking at him, Satomi knew he wouldn’t be far behind his wife.

                                                                       . . .

Dawn spent the night with the Talbots, sharing a bed with Lori, listening for hunters that never came.  They spent most of the day marathoning movies, trying to use the TV to distract themselves, but it wasn’t helping much anymore.  They’d still had no word from their parents.  Every time Dawn told herself whatever they were doing was just taking a long time she believed it a little less. 

Something buzzed angrily.  Dawn started, adrenaline spiking at the sudden noise.  Someone knocked the remote off the couch and it snapped in half when it hit the tile floor with a crack, further startling them. 

The buzzing came again and Dawn laughed at herself.  It was just her phone.  She scrambled to answer it, relief flooding through her when she saw the caller ID.  “Hello, Dad?”

“Dawn.”  He sounded tired but ok.  “Are you all right?  Where are you?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she answered.  “I’m at the Talbot’s.”

“All right, I’ll be over to get you in a few minutes.”

“Ok,” she nodded even though she knew he couldn’t see. “Love you…Bye.”  She hung up, a smile spreading over her face, glad whatever had been going on was over.  “He’s said he’s coming to get me,” she explained.

Brett sighed, looking like a weight had been taken off of him.  If her parents were back, that should mean his would be coming home too.  “Everything’s ok, then?” he asked.

Dawn shrugged.  “He didn’t say, but I guess so.  He didn’t sound worried or anything.”  She was sure he would have told her if something was wrong. 

“Good,” Lori said, bouncing a little in her seat.  “What do you think took them so long?”

“You can ask them when they get here,” Brett said, reaching down to collect the pieces of the remote.  “Right now, I don’t even care as long as it’s done.”

                                                                      . . .

All three of them were on their feet as soon as they heard the car pull into the driveway, crowding into the hall.  The motor shut off and two sets of footsteps approached the door.

When it opened Dawn’s dad was the first to come in.  He looked really tired, his eyes dim.  Brett looked at Dawn in time to see her face fall. 

“Dad, what’s wrong?” she asked.

“Come on, let’s go home,” was all he said, reaching for her arm.

She pulled back and Brett heard her heartbeat pick up.  “Dad, what happened?” she demanded.

“I’ll tell you in the car,” he said.  “Let’s go.”

“Ok.”  This time she let him take her arm and lead her outside.

Watching her leave, Brett saw Satomi standing by the doorway and a cold fear settled in his stomach.  Why would she be here?

“Satomi.”

When she met his gaze, the look in her eyes deepened his worry.  It was sadness, but worse than that, pity. 

“What happened?” he asked, fighting to keep his voice level.  

He felt Lori move a little closer to him.  “Mom and Dad are coming back, right?” she asked their alpha.  “They’re ok, aren’t they?”

From outside, Brett heard a strangled half-roar, half-scream.  Dawn. 

His breath caught and he looked back at Satomi, terrified of what she might say.  By now she had crossed over to them and she laid a hand on each of their arms.  “I’m so sorry,” she said, taking a breath.  “But they’re gone.”

“You mean… dead?”  Brett asked, hardly believing the words.  That couldn’t be it, they’d been fine yesterday.

“What?”  Lori took a step forward.  “No.  What happened?”

“There was an illness,” Satomi explained gently.  “A poison.  We didn’t know how to treat it.  I’m so sorry,” she repeated, not managing to look either one of them in the face.

“No,” Lori sobbed.  “No, no.”  She threw her arms around Brett’s waist, burying her face against his chest.  Dimly aware he was doing it, Brett put his arm around her shaking shoulders. 

The sound of Lori’s crying grew distant and his mind slowed to a still.  He couldn’t think, couldn’t feel.  A cold numbness settled over his entire being, shutting him down, and all he could do was stand there and stare.

                                                                       . . . 

“Brett.  Brett.”  Satomi’s voice barely filtered through the fog over his mind.  “Brett, listen to me.”  She took his face between her hands.  He blinked, bringing his gaze back into focus.  “There’s a list,” she was saying.  “A bounty of supernatural creatures someone wants dead and you’re on it.  You’re worth a lot of money and now that your parents are gone they’ll think you’re an easy target.  I’m sorry, I’ve let you be as long as I can but we have to go.  This is the first place they’ll look for you.  Do you understand?”

Hunters.  Right. They’d tried to kill him at the game.  They would try again.  They’d come here.  They had to leave. 

“Brett?”

He nodded slowly.

“Ok.” She took her hands from his face and moved them to Lori’s shoulders.  “Let me have her.  Go and get some things for the two of you.  We have to leave.”

He nodded again but didn’t move. 

“Brett!” Satomi snapped.

He started.

“Did you hear me?  We have to go.”

“Right, sorry,” he stammered, his brain finally kicking into gear.  There were hunters, it wasn’t safe here.  Gently he pried Lori’s arms off of him and stepped away from his sister.

Satomi knelt in front of her and hugged her.  “Hush now, Lori,” she said, soothing but firm.  “Hush now.”  She pulled back a little and wiped the tears from Lori’s face.  “We have to go now.”

Brett didn’t hear the rest.  By then he was too far down the hall, fighting to get his thought in order.  We have to leave.  What do we need?  Come on, what do we need?

He went to his room and dumped the school books and things out of his backpack, then started replacing them with the necessities that were finally coming to mind.

Soon they’d left their home and gone to Satomi’s large house near the edge of town.

Brett sat on the bed next to Lori, in the room she’d be using.  She had her knees pulled up to her chest, hugging them to her tightly.

“I’ll be down the hall if you need anything,” Satomi said gently, then left them alone together.

Brett sighed and ran a hand across his face.  He looked at Lori, searching for something to say to her, but he couldn’t think of anything.  There was so much sadness in her face, the scent of her grief filling the room.  She look up at him, her eyes red and swollen, seeming just as at a loss for words as he was.  She scooted closer and put her arms around his neck and for a minute they just held each other. 

“Hey,” he said, pulling away.  He leaned over the edge of the bed and opened his backpack, pulling out a small fleece blanket.  “I took it off their bed,” he explained, holding it out to her.  “It still smells like them.”

She took it from him and pressed it up to her face, taking a deep breath.  “It does,” she confirmed, rubbing it against her cheek. 

“We should probably get some sleep,” he said after a pause.  It seemed like the only thing left to do. 

“Stay with me?” she asked, her voice sounding so small.

“Yeah.” He nodded and lay down next to her. 

   She settled in, clutching the blanket close to her.  After a little while she started to cry again, but it was softer this time and she fell asleep pretty quickly. 

As drained as Brett felt, he couldn’t get to sleep.  So he just lay there for a long time, listening to her breathing and wondering what they would do now.

                                                                           . . .

“Where are you going?” Satomi’s voice came from the kitchen, stopping him before he reached the front door.

“School,” Brett answered, adjusting the strap of his backpack.

“You know you don’t have to go,” she said, stepping into the hall.  “I called the school and told them not to expect you for a few days.”

“I know,” Brett said.  “But I want to go.”  Honestly, he felt like he needed to go; like he needed the familiar routine.  At least it would be better than sitting around here trying not to think about what had happened.  He needed the distraction.  Thinking about it just made him feel guilty, because all he could do was think about it.  He didn’t feel anything.  He wasn’t sad, he wasn’t angry, nothing.  And hee hated that.

“If that’s what you want,” Satomi said.

He nodded.  “I’ll see you this afternoon.”

Brett rounded the corner on his way to his next class and nearly ran into Coach Tom. 

“Brett,” Coach exclaimed.  “I’ve been worried about you.  You disappeared Thursday night.”

Right, he had.  Wow that felt like a long time ago.  “Sorry about that.  I meant to call you,” Brett said, launching into the excuse he’d prepared days ago.  “My mom came to get me and was freaking out and wanted to get to the hospital to get me checked out so, yeah.  Like I said, I meant to call you but…” His voice trailed off.

“Yes, then that,” Coach said.  “I’m sorry about what happened to your parents.”

Brett glanced down the hall and nodded acknowledgement, not sure how to answer. 

“Are you all right though?” Coach asked.  “About the concussion I mean.”

“Yeah,” Brett said, nodding.  “No concussion actually.  I’m clear to play.”

“Good.  Well, whenever you’re ready to come back we’ll be glad to have you.”

“I’ll have to miss this afternoon,” he said, (the funeral was this afternoon) “but I’ll be at practice Wednesday.”

Coach looked surprised.  “I don’t want you to feel like you have to because you’re captain or anything.  We can get on with out your for a little while.”

“I don’t need any time off,” Brett insisted.  “Really.”

“Ok,” Coach said.  “That’s up to you.  Like I said, we’ll be glad to have you whenever you’re ready.”  He clapped Brett on the shoulder and continued down the hall. 

Each class he went to was pretty much the same.  The teacher would looked surprised to see him, and then either before or after class would quietly offer him their condolences.  Two or three of his friends asked him if anything was up, but he just shrugged and told them it was nothing.  Dawn wasn’t at school and a few people asked him about her, and he would tell them he didn’t know where she was.  Other than that, school was pretty much normal, and for the first time in a long time, he was glad for it.

                                                                       . . .

Dawn straightened her back, refusing to even glance at the reporters and other onlookers standing at the closest respectful distance.  It was two days since most of the pack had been wiped out.  What remained of them now stood in the cemetery before a row of fresh, open graves. 

The official story would say that members of Satomi Ito’s Buddhist sect had gone out into the woods without her to take part in some ritual involving mushrooms, but that they had picked the wrong kind, with fatal consequences.

That was ridiculous.  Necessary to explain the deaths to the rest of the world, but it still grated Dawn.  Her mother had been murdered.  They all had.  But everyone would think they were just some stupid Buddhists who had eaten bad mushrooms.  It wasn’t fair; but they couldn’t seek justice because no one could know what they really were.

Dawn struggled to swallow the lump in her throat, squeezing her hands into fists so tightly that even her clawless fingernails dug into her palms.  No, she wasn’t going to cry.  Not here where any hunter slinking around might see.  She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing how broken she was.  

A few graves down she could see Brett, stoic, with one hand on his sister’s shoulder. Lori was trying not to cry as well, but her eyes still shimmered with her barely contained tears.  Brett was impassive. 

There, Dawn told herself, if he can do it, I can too.  She would try anyway, but she didn’t know how he was doing it.  She knew she couldn’t manage to look that withdrawn. 

She closed her eyes and took a breath, steadying herself, then she stepped forward with her father to toss a handful of dirt onto her mother’s casket.  It landed with a thud that seemed to echo in her ears.  This was it.  Her mom was gone.  Taken. 

She squeezed her fists again, this time letting her claws out, the physical pain distracting her from the pain around her heart.  Her dad stayed by her mom’s grave, but Dawn continued on, dropping a handful of dirt into the grave of each fallen member of her pack.  The other survivors were doing the same. 

Then it was over, their last goodbyes said, and they had to make their way past that small mob of people.  Her dad slid an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close to him.  “Don’t look at anyone,” he whispered.  “Don’t stop.  We’ll just move right through them.”

The sun, the moon, the truth, she thought, not sure she could trust herself to not tear apart the first person who said anything about mushrooms.  She set her gaze on the ground and focused her hearing on the heartbeats around her, letting their words fade to the background.

The next thing she knew they’d made it to the car.  Her dad released her and she quickly got in, slamming the door shut behind her.  She sighed and leaned her head back against the seat. 

“I’m sorry it had to be like that,” her dad said.  “But it’s over now.”

“Mm.” Dawn nodded, but as they drove off, she realized it was really only over for the people they’d just put in the ground.

                                                             . . .

Later that evening, Dawn sat cross legged on her bed, snuggling a cloth doll close to her chest.  She’d had to dig it out of a box in the back of her closet, where it had lived for years.  She’d grown out of it a long time ago, but it was a doll her mother had given her.  She’d brought it back from a trip when Dawn was five or six.  Over the years they’d made dresses for it together and her mom had taught Dawn to braid hair with it. 

Her dad came in and sat on the bed near her.  He didn’t speak, but his presence was enough of a comfort.  After a minute or two, Dawn sat the doll in her lap and started fiddling with its hair. 

“I ask mom once why I didn’t have any brothers or sisters,” she said, not looking up from the doll.  “She told me that you guys wanted lots of kids, but for years you couldn’t get pregnant.  She said she tried everything.  Then she heard about how werewolves could heal and she thought maybe that would fix what was wrong with her.”

  “I didn’t believe in werewolves,” her dad said, “but she was desperate, so I let her look.  I didn’t think she’d actually find some.”

“She said it took her almost a year to find Satomi.  Then two months later, she got pregnant,” Dawn smiled, remembering how her mom’s eyes had shone when she told her that part.  “She said it was a miracle.”

“Yes, she did.” Her dad nodded.  “And it was.  But I don’t think it was because of that bite.  She always did, but if that had been her miracle the pregnancy wouldn’t have been so hard on her.”

“Yeah, she said they told her having another baby might kill her.”  Dawn paused.  “She told me that even though she wanted a big family, she wanted to be my mother more.”  She looked up at her dad.  “She wanted to take me to my first day of school, help me with my homework, move me in at college.  To see me get married, and have kids and…” She hugged the doll close to her chest again.  “And now she’s not even going to get to see me graduate.”

Her dad put an arm around her shoulder and she leaned against him for a few minutes.  Then he kissed the top of her head and stood.  “I’m sorry sweetheart, but I’ve got to get some work done before tomorrow.”  She heard the strain in his voice, and thought about how hard it must be for him. Wanting to be strong for her when he was grieving too. 

“It’s ok,” she said, giving him a weak smile as he left the room.  She sighed and nuzzled her doll, whispering, “The sun, the moon, the truth.”

                                                                          . . .

While the first day back at school had been a welcome interlude of normalcy, the second day was anything but.  When it was finally over and he got back to Satomi’s house, Brett barely paused at the front door, making straight for the stairs. 

“Brett,” Satomi called from the living room.

He stopped, but didn’t answer or even move, half-hoping she would let him go.

“Did you hurt the door?”

Oops.  He hadn’t really meant to slam it.  He walked backwards three steps and inspected the door over his shoulder.  “No.” 

He glanced over at her; she had the coffee table pushed up against the wall and was doing yoga in the middle of the room.

“Why don’t you come and join me,” she offered.  “You look like you could use some relaxation.”

He hesitated for a moment, wavering between going upstairs or not.  You might as well.  He dropped his backpack and kicked off his shoes, then joined her on the floor.  For a few minutes they were quiet, Brett mirroring her movements as she went through whatever routine she had in her head. 

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” she finally asked.

Brett stretched his arms over his head and took a deep breath, not sure that he was.  “Everybody knows about it now,” he answered after pause.  “Everybody’s talking about it.”  He’d picked up snatches of conversation about it all day.  What really bothered him was that, especially as the day went on, more and more people had connected him with the tragedy.  “I just can’t stand the way they look me,” he continued.  “It’s like…” He wasn’t sure how to describe it.  With the people who recognized him but didn’t actually know him, it was like the way you might look at a dumped puppy on the side of the road or something.  And that wasn’t too bad.  But with his friends it was something different.  A mix of pity and sympathy and something else he couldn’t identify.  “And the guys are the worst,” he continued.  “They’re all…tip toeing around me. Like they’re afraid to say anything wrong in front of me, or to act too happy.”

“Your friends know something terrible has happened to you,” Satomi said.  “They’d like to help you, but they don’t know how.”

“Well if they want to help they should just act normal.”

“They will,” she assured him, “given a little time.”

They lapsed back into silence for a little while.  Brett grabbed his ankle and pulled himself up, balancing all his weight on the opposite hand and foot. 

“Satomi,” he said hesitantly, glancing up at her.

“Hmmm?”

“Did it hurt?” he asked.  “When they died.  Was it painful?”  He hoped whatever had killed his parents hadn’t been as bad as the wolfsbane that had nearly finished him.

“No,” Satomi answered.  “No, it didn’t seem painful.  The beginning was a little difficult, because they lost control of the shift, but after that it was….peaceful.”

Brett nodded, letting himself down and switching sides.  Peaceful.  That was something at least.

 “Do you want me to tell you about when they died?”

“Yeah, I guess.” 

“Your mother died in your father’s arms,” she said.  “They weren’t afraid in the end, they’d made peace with it.  Their last thoughts were with the two of you.  They both wanted me to tell you and Lori that they loved you and that they were very proud of you.”   

Brett let himself down again.  Those were the kind of things you would expect a parent’s last message to be.  He could have guessed that without being told, but he realized that didn’t really matter much.  He knew they meant it. 

                                                                     . . .

Brett lay in his bed, staring up at the ceiling, unable to sleep.  He didn’t really know what was keeping him awake, but as he lay there, he started to think that the darkness of the room was particularly black and oppressive tonight.   

He sighed and got out of bed, then walked over to the window and pulled the curtain open.  The light of the half-moon shone into the room, creating a contrast of silver and shadows. 

Brett shut his eyes as pain stabbed his chest, all of a sudden overwhelmed by a feeling of loss. He let himself down to his knees and wrapped his arms around himself, sucking in a choked breath.  For days he had wanted to feel something—anything --over his parents’ death.  Now that he did, he wanted the numbness back.  It was better than this.  This pain rising up inside him was too much for him to handle, like the delay had only made it stronger now that it was here.  It would drown him.  His body lurched and the tears he’d felt he should have shed days ago finally came. 

Behind him, he heard the door open then he felt someone beside him.  The scent was Satomi’s. 

“Brett are you all right?”

He made himself nod, struggling to control his breathing, to blink away his tears.  Yes, he was ok.  He’d been getting on fine for days, why should this happen now?  He just needed to get a hold of himself.   

“Oh, Koibito, come here.”  Satomi put her arms around him and pulled him close to her.  “It’s all right,” she whispered.  “Don’t think you have to hide them from me.  You’ve been so brave, and I have been proud of you for it.  But you need a chance to grieve as well.”

He felt her hand on the back of his neck and he let his cheek fall to her shoulder as he tried to stifle a sob.  But the grief clawing away inside his chest was too much.  He found himself clinging to her, and he didn’t try to fight the next one.

“It’s all right,” Satomi said again, gently rocking back and forth.  “You just cry for a little while.  It’s all right.”

                                                                      . . .

“There,” Dawn said to herself, closing the dishwasher.  Now that that was finished maybe she would have time to read a little before she went to bed. 

“Dawn,” her dad called from across the house.  “Come here for a minute.  I want to talk to you about something.”

She stopped at the door frame, leaning into the living room. “Mmhmm.”

“Come here.” Her dad patted the couch cushion next to him. 

 Oh, a serious talk about something, she realized.  What’s this about?

She sat down and looked at him expectantly, getting the feeling she might not want to hear what he had to say. 

He paused for a minute, seeming to consider how to begin, then he said, “How much trouble do you think it would be if you switched schools?”

Dawn blinked.  She didn’t know what she had expected him to say, but that wasn’t it.  “Why would I need to switch schools?”

“Because,” he said, “we’re going to move to San Francisco.  Nonna and Popi are going to put us up until we can find a place there.”

“No,” Dawn said simply, sitting up straighter.  “I’ve lived here my whole life, we can’t just move.”

“Honey.”  Her dad held out a staying hand.  “I know a move will be difficult for you, but in the end I think it will be for the best.  We’ll be with our family.”

Dawn shook her head.  “My family’s here.”

“You’re pack maybe, but that’s not the same.”

His words were gentle but they stung.  Yes, it was the same.  It was more.  Her pack was more her family than her relatives in San Francisco.  Her dad couldn’t understand that.  He was human, he didn’t even really like the idea of her having a pack, but up to now he’d allowed it.  Dawn balled her hands into fists.  He couldn’t take her pack away, not now.  She couldn’t lose what was left of them too.

Her father put a hand on her knee. “It will be safer for you there, without all this list nonsense.”

Safer?  Dawn almost scoffed.  She stood, pushing his hand away.  “No it won’t,” she insisted.  “We move, you make me an omega.”

“Beta, omega, epsilon, what does it matter?”

“Ugh,” Dawn huffed, grabbing a handful of her hair.  He’d never bothered to learn about werewolves.  He’d never like that she and her mother were wolves.  He’d tolerated it because he had no choice. 

“Lone wolves die, Dad.”

“Well, plenty of pack wolves died last week,” he snapped.  “Being together didn’t stop that.”

Angry tears stung Dawn’s eye.  That wasn’t fair.  It was the stupid hunters fault, not the packs.  Satomi had done everything she knew how. 

Dawn couldn’t leave her pack.  She wouldn’t. 

“You can’t move me,” she said.  “I need them.”

“There’s hardly any of them left Dawn.  The way things are going the rest won’t last long.”

She opened her mouth to argue but he cut her off.

“Your boyfriend is worth a million dollars dead, how much to you think someone will pay for you?”  He shook his head.  “We’re moving.  Soon.  You’ll learn to get along without them.”

Dawn squeezed her eyes shut, letting a tear slide from them.  She shook her head.  No, she wouldn’t.  She needed them; now more than ever.  He couldn’t take her away.  He wouldn’t.  She wouldn’t let him.

She opened her eyes, meeting her father’s gaze. 

“Dawn-“ he started.

“No.”  She turned and hurried out of the room, toward the front door.  She slammed her body against it, feeling it rattle, and threw it open. 

“Dawn!” She heard her dad behind her but she didn’t stop.  She ran, down the driveway and across the side walk, tearing through the night.  She knew she was going too fast.  That is someone saw her they’d know she was running faster than a human could, but she didn’t care. She didn’t care if someone saw, she didn’t care where she was going.  She just needed to get away.  The only thing she cared about just then was staying with her pack.

                                                                 . . .

A pounding on the front door sounded through the house.  Brett stiffened, every sense going on alert.  He dropped his toothbrush, swallowing the paste and headed for the stairs.  He paused and saw Satomi open the door.  Dawn, flush faced and breathless, stood on the steps. 

“What happened?” Satomi asked, hurrying her inside.

Brett flexed his fingers, ready to get his claws out if he needed to.  Had she been attacked?  If she had, were the hunters still after her?

By now Lori had come up behind him and they both started cautiously down the stairs. 

Dawn shook her head in answer to Satomi’s question.  “Nothing.  I mean, I’m ok.  It’s just--”  She paused to get her breath.  “My dad wants us to move.  I told him I couldn’t leave my pack, but he won’t listen to me.”

“All right,” Satomi said, taking her arm.  “Come sit down and we’ll talk about it.”

They all moved into the living room.  Satomi lead Dawn to the couch and then sat down on the coffee table across from her.  Brett slid onto the couch beside Dawn, Lori hanging back a little.

“Now,” Satomi said, “what happened?”

“He just out and told me we’re moving to San Francisco to live with my grandparents,” she said.  “He didn’t ask me or anything, just said that’s what was going to happen.  I tried to tell him that I needed to stay with my pack, but he won’t listen.  He says it’ll be better for us, that I’ll be safer.”  She paused.  “I think he’s wanted to move closer to his family for a long time.  But he never really said anything because he knew Mom wouldn’t go.  Now he thinks he can make me.”  She set her jaw.  “But I’m not going.  I’ll run away for real if I have to.”

“Now, don’t make any hasty decision,” Satomi cautioned.  “It’s getting late, and you’re upset.  You’re father’s worried, as we all should be.  He’s just trying to do what he feels is best.”

Brett felt Dawn stiffen and he put a hand over hers.  Satomi couldn’t really be saying Dawn should go.  She’d be alone, an Omega. 

“But you are right as well,” Satomi said.  “You might be safer elsewhere for now but not for long.  I’ll speak to him about tomorrow, ok?”

“I’m not going,” Dawn insisted. 

“I hope you don’t,” Satomi said.  “But it’s something you should try to work out with your father.”

“Are you going to send me back?”

Satomi shook her head.  “Not tonight.”  She swept her gaze over all three of them.  “We can worry about all this tomorrow.  For now, all of you get to bed.  There’s another spare bedroom up stairs Dawn can have.”

Brett nodded and stood, the girls doing the same. 

“Goodnight Satomi,” Loris said, giving their alpha a hug.

“Goodnight dear, sleep well.”

Brett and Dawn started to follow Lori out of the room. 

“Are you two upset with me then?” Satomi asked, an amused smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

Brett stopped and shook his head.  “No.”

Dawn breathed a quick laugh.  “No.”

They both went back and hugged her goodnight.  Satomi took Dawn’s hand as she started off again.  “Don’t worry about it too much tonight.”

“Ok.” Dawn nodded. 

“Do you think she’ll let me stay here if I have to run?” Dawn asked as they started up the stairs. 

“I don’t know,” Brett answered.  He hoped so.  He didn’t want Dawn to leave her dad, but he also wanted her to stay.  “I don’t think she’ll want to split up the pack.”

“Tell me you won’t let him take me to San Francisco,” she said quietly, an almost vulnerable tone creeping into her voice.

“You want me to fight your dad?”

“No.” She shook her head.  “I just want to hear you say it.”

He stopped and turned to face her.  “I don’t want you to move.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Brett took her upper arms in his hands and held her gaze for a moment before softly saying, “I won’t let you leave.”

She gave him a smile that didn’t quite make it to her eyes and put her arms around his shoulders.  “Thank you.”

He held her for a few seconds, aware that this might be one of the last chances he had to do so, then she pulled away.  “We should go to bed before Satomi gets on to us.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear.

Gun fire rattled outside, followed by the sound of shattering glass and Brett ducked, throwing his arms over his head.  He growled, half-transformed, and looked up to have his gaze met by Dawn’s startled, glowing eyes. 

“Hunters,” Satomi growled, stumbling into the entryway. 

The scent of blood stung Brett’s nose.  At least one of the bullets had hit her. 

“There’s maybe half a dozen of them.” Satomi looked up at Brett and Dawn.  “Run.”

“But we can help you,” Dawn said.

“Help yourselves and go.  I’ll catch up to you.”

They both got up and Brett sprinted down the hall.  Lori stood in the doorway of her bedroom, wide-eyed.

“Come on.” Brett pushed her back into the room.

“What are we doing?” Dawn asked.

“They’ll be expecting the back door,” he said over his shoulder.  He stopped at the back wall and jerked open the window. 

The girls stood on either side of him, all three of them just staring at the window for a few seconds while gun fire continued to ring out from down stairs.

“You first,” Dawn said, still eying the window warily.

“Right.” Brett climbed up on the window sill.  It’s only two stories, he told himself, taking a breath.  Then he pushed himself off.  He hit the ground, grunting slightly as his ankle turned.  He’d probably sprained it, but that didn’t matter, it would heal in a few seconds. 

Lori nearly landed on top of him, Dawn right behind her. 

“Ok,” he whispered, glancing around.  He couldn’t see anyone on this side of the house.  “Let’s go.”

They hadn’t run thirty yards when someone yelled, “Over there! Look!”

More gunfire and this time it was aimed at them.  He grabbed Lori’s hand and broke into a full run.

                                                                         . . .

Rain pelted the ground, coming down so hard Dawn could barely see more than a few feet in front of her.  The thugs that shot up Satomi’s house had attacked every remaining pack member all at once.  That first night, they’d all gotten away, meeting up at Lookout Point.  Those attackers were amateurs, probably more used to running drugs or guns than contract killing.  But since then, they’d remained in the woods, trying to leave town, to get away until the heat died down.  For days they’d been hiding out, trying to find a way through the perimeter of hunters and assassins that surrounded the area, but with no success.   Now, almost to Beacon Hills, they’d been tracked down yet again and attacked.  And this time the killers really knew what they were doing.  She’d lost the others and she could hear the hunters catching up to her again, the growl of their ATV engines growing closer.

She’d tried to stay in the thicker underbrush and more uneven ground so it would be harder for the humans to follow her, but there wasn’t a lot of that available.  She paused, desperately glancing around for an escape route. 

Her ears pricked at a sound behind her.  Her hand jerked up before she even realized she’d told it to and she turned, catching an arrow that would have imbedded between her shoulder blades.  She stared at the arrow for a second, trying to process how it had ended up in her hand.  A second arrow slammed into her leg, sending her down on one knee. 

Dawn transformed all the way, jerking her head up and roaring at the two hunters that were stalking towards her.  They backed up, startled, almost like they’d never seen a wolf before, and one of them tripped over a tree root.

By the time they gathered themselves, Dawn was up and running again, barely aware of the pain that shot up her leg with every step.  A roar reverberated through the trees not too far away.  Dawn shifted her course to the left and hurried towards it.

                                                                              . . .

Brett and Lori sprinted out of the woods.   Brett looked around, panting.  Was that the high school?  He turned around, hearing the hunters crashing through the underbrush not far behind them.   “Head for the school,” he told Lori.  “Maybe we’ll get lucky and someone will be working late.”

“What about you?” she asked.

“I’ll be right behind you.  Go.”

She ran off and Brett moved deeper into the trees, just as the hunters came into view.  He snarled and sprinted farther into the woods at top speed.  Once he couldn’t hear them anymore he slowed and circled back toward the school, being careful to stay quiet and not leave a trail.  If he was lucky, the hunters would think they’d run back into the woods and maybe they’d waste enough time looking for them there that he and Lori could get away.   

He soon cleared the trees again and ran off toward the school.  Where had Lori got to?  The stupid rain was keeping him from being able to pick up her scent.  There she was, in a narrow alley between the school buses and the fence surrounding the yard.  As he started towards her, he heard the hunters again.  He hadn’t bought them much time at all. 

Lori stumbled into the chain link fence surrounding the bus yard and slipped on the wet cement, hitting the ground.  The hunters were right behind them now.  Lori was trying to get back to her feet but she was tired and the ground was slick.

Brett ran for her, tapping into whatever werewolf strength he had left, and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her to her feet.  “Go, Lori come on,” he said shoving her forward. “Run!’

Zing. 

Something slammed into Brett’s shoulder near where it joined his neck.  “Gahh!” he screamed, stumbling forward.  “Go!” he yelled at Lori when she slowed.  With a growl he tore the arrow out of him, barley dodging another. 

Someone jumped out at him from between two buses.  He grabbed the man’s arm and threw him into the fence.  The hunter rounded on him, lifting an unloaded cross bow to strike him.  Brett dodged and ducked under the man’s next blow, but as he straightened the hunter slammed the butt of the weapon into his chest, knocking him to the ground. 

Fine, he thought, letting his eyes glow and his claws come out. 

The hunter raised the crossbow high, ready to slam it into Brett’s head.  Brett sprang up, jabbing the heels of his hands into the man’s chest and sending him slamming into the fence.  The hunter rebounded off the fence and fell face first onto the concrete, out cold.

With one last glance around he hurried after Lori.  Up ahead she was just leaving the fenced off area.  “No, wait,” he yelled, but she didn’t here.  Not out there.  That was the field.  She’d be out in the open, with nowhere to hide.  He sprinted after her.

“Lori, wait.”  By the time she heard him she was standing in the middle of the field.  She turned and looked at him questioningly, her eyes wide and frightened.  Brett hesitated on the edge of the bleachers, then went out to her, positioning himself in front of her.  Maybe they could get back out before the hunters noticed. 

Lights snapped on all around the field and any hope still in Brett died.  This was what the hunters wanted.  They’d been herding them here, so they’d have a wide open shot for yards.  Lori grabbed his arm.

Brett looked down and saw three tiny red dots dance over his stomach then converge over his chest.  He swallowed. 

“Brett,” Lori said.  “Brett, what’s happening?”

“Close your eyes,” was all he said.  She didn’t need to see what was about to happen.  He just hoped she’d run as soon they hit him.  Maybe she’d have a chance to get to cover before they could reload.  She squeezed his arm tighter, hiding her face.  Brett braced himself for the shot.

Zing. 

Clang!

Brett started.  A girl stood just a few yards in front of them, from out of nowhere, holding a sword.  She’d cut the arrow out of the air. “Run!” she yelled.

Brett turned, shoving Lori in front of him and they ran back out the way they’d come in.

                                                                   . . .

Dawn had found the Marianas, Carlos and his grown daughter Gabby, and the three of them were creeping along the edge of the wood line.  For the moment they’d lost the hunters behind them, and while they wanted to put more distance between them, they were worried about leaving what safety the woods offered. 

“Somebody’s coming,” Gabby announced and they all ducked down farther.

Dawn peered out from behind the underbrush, struggling to make the person out in the rain.  “It’s Lori,” she said, then stood.  “Lori! Over here.”

Lori paused then started running for them.  Dawn bit her lip.  Where was Brett?  She stood up straighter, searching for him.  Then she sighed.  There he was.  The two of them came to a stop once they entered the tree line.   Lori slid down beside Gabby and Brett rested his hands on his knees, both of them breathing hard.

Dawn limped over to him.  “You ok?”

“Yeah,” he panted, nodding. 

“There’s someone else,” Carlos said, and growled.  “It’s not one of us.”

“She’s with us,” Brett said and straightened.  “She just saved me.”

A girl around Dawn’s age ran over to them and skidded to a halt.  “Hi,” she said, flashing a rushed smile.  “I’m Kira.  I know it seem pretty lucky that I just happened to show up, but I promise I’m on the list too.”  She lifted something, a sword, and sheathed it.  “Scott wanted me to try to find Brett, I just came here to see if I could get a scent.  Looks like I found more.”

 “We shouldn’t stop,” Brett said.  “They’ll be on us any second.”

They all lifted their heads as a howl echoed through the woods.  Dawn sighed in relief.  “That’s Satomi.”

Carlos howled in response, then offered Gabby a hand.  “Let’s head that way, they’ll definitely be on us now.”

                                                                             . . .

They met up with Satomi, who had what remained of their pack with her, and then Kira led them all back to the vet’s office the alpha had sent Brett to when he’d been wolfsbaned. She unlocked the door and motioned everyone inside.  “Scott’s going to meet us here,” she explained.  “He shouldn’t be long.”

The group crowded into the back room and no one spoke for a minute while they all caught their breaths.  Brett leaned against the wall, wondering how long it would be before the hunters found them again. 

“You know, you remind me very much of a young women I used to know,” Satomi said to Kira.

Kira nodded.  “My mother, she told me about you.”

From the other side of the room Dawn grunted sharply. 

“Lo siento,” Carlos said.  “You broke it off too close, I can’t get a hold of it.”

“Well, you’ve got to get it out, I can’t run like this anymore,” Dawn said. She was sitting on the floor with her back to the metal table, Carlos kneeling beside her.  She had a large blood-stain on her pants and from the middle of it an inch or so of an arrow shaft stuck out of her thigh.  Brett chastised himself for not noticing the injury earlier.  He’d been too worried with getting Lori out of there to pay much attention to Dawn.  He should have been looking out for her too. 

Satomi went over to them.   “She can’t heal with it still in her body.  We’ll have to cut it out.”

“Ok,” Dawn said.  “Let’s do it then.”  She reached back and took one of the table legs in each of her hands. 

“Hold her leg still,” Satomi instructed Carlos, flicking out the claws of one hand. 

“Let me do that,” Brett said, stepping over to them.  He may not have noticed before, but he could help her now.  “Unless you’d rather Carlos did it.”

She gave him a smile that was half a grimace.  “Knock yourself out.”

Brett knelt beside her and placed his hands on her leg, one just above her knee, the other on her calf.

Satomi looked at Dawn.  “Are you ready?”

Dawn took three or four quick breaths and nodded.  

Satomi dug her claw into Dawn’s leg.  She jerked and Brett had to lean his weight into his hands to keep her leg still.  Dawn gasped, and squeezed her eyes shut, leaning her head back. 

“All right,” Satomi warned as she maneuvered her fingers around the shaft, “here it goes.”

Dawn screamed into her teeth, and Brett set his jaw, drawing some of her pain into his own body.   Then Satomi pulled the arrow free and he felt her body relax. 

“There,” Satomi said, holding it up for her to see. 

Dawn sighed and reached out a slightly trembling hand to take it.  “Well,” she said, “looks like I got a souvenir.”

Brett laughed under his breath, patting her knee.  He noticed dents in the table legs were her hands had been. 

“That’s one way to look at it,” Satomi said.  “Let’s just hope we don’t end up with too many more.”  Then she turned back to Kira.  “Now, you were saying.”

                                                             . . .

It wasn’t long before the bell over the door jingled. 

“That should be Scott,” Kira said, hurrying into the vet’s waiting room.  She came back in a minute later, leading the Hispanic werewolf by the hand. 

“Satomi,” she said, “this is who I was telling you about.”

Satomi turned and smiled at them.  “I know who Scott McCall is.”

“Are we safe here?” Lori asked him.

Brett put a hand on her arm, without taking his eyes off Scott.  He hoped that if the alpha had been looking for him it meant he had some sort of a plan. 

Scott looked them over.  Brett knew they looked pretty pitiful-- wet, dirty, half of them covered in patches of dried blood. 

Scott turned back to Kira.  “We’re gonna need help,” he said.  “A lot of help.”

                                                                   . . .

Scott took them all to a warehouse on the outskirts of Beacon Hills.  It was nearly morning by the time they got there, but still early enough that there wasn’t really anyone around to see them go in.  It was mostly empty, full of broken sheet rock walls and sheets of plastic that hung from floor to ceiling.   

“I know the guy who owns this place,” Scott explained.  “We should be safe here for a little while.”

 The pack settled in to get some rest while they could.  Brett sat next to Lori, leaning his head against the wall.  She laid her head on his shoulder, and he reached up to brush her hair out of her face.  He wondered how long ‘a little while’ was.  Maybe it would at least be long enough to get an hour or two of sleep.

The next thing he knew, Brett was opening his eyes to the mid-morning light.  It was probably between eight and nine.  Lori had her head in his lap, still asleep, as were most of the others around him.  Then his ears pricked.  Footsteps, echoed through the building, getting closer. 

Gently, Brett moved out from under Lori.

“Mmm,” she mumbled.

“Shh.”  Brett shifted into a crouch and peered around a flap of plastic. 

There was one man, walking through the building, an assault rifle held out in front of him. 

That’s it, Brett thought.  He was done with running.  He could take one hunter. 

He started when he felt a hand on his shoulder. 

“Wait,” Satomi whispered, so quiet only someone with werewolf senses would hear.  She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out one of her metal bolts.  “Once I throw it, go.”

He nodded. 

Satomi drew back her arm and threw the bolt through the plastic.  It glanced off the hunters arm, making him drop the gun.  By the time he turned around Brett was nearly on top of him, fangs bared.  But the hunter had pulled a pistol and it was now aimed right at Brett’s face.  He wasn’t about to let the phase him.  He snarled, pretty sure he could get to the man before he fired the gun.

“Wait! Wait!” That was Scott.  “Brett wait.  This is his place, it’s his.”

This was Scott’s friend?  Brett closed his mouth, letting his fangs retract.  Ok then.  He turned and walked back toward where his pack was, most of them now on their feet.  Dawn gave him a look like ‘what were you doing?’

He shrugged.

“Scott,” the man said, lowering the gun, “if you’re bringing guests, you could have called.” 

“I didn’t have anywhere else to take them,” Scott answered.

“I know this man,” Satomi said, walking up to him.  Her tone implied that she wasn’t on good terms with him.  “You may not remember but we’ve met before.”

  Maybe this guy was a hunter after all.

“You can trust him,” Scott assured her.  “I trust him.”

“How do we know he’s not like the others?” Satomi asked.

The man furrowed his brow.  “What others?”

“Last night,” Kira explained, “there was a whole team after them.  They used crossbows.”

 “They’re hunters aren’t they?” Scott asked.

“Not if they’re killing for profit,” the man said, shaking his head. 

“Can they find us?” Brett asked, still not sure they should trust this guy.  No matter what he said about the others, he was still pretty obviously a hunter.

“They may already know you’re here,” he answered.  “They may be waiting for dark.”

That made sense, they usually did.  Great.

“So we’re not safe here?” Kira looked at Scott.

“We’re not safe anywhere,” Satomi answered for him.  “We’ve been trying to get out for days.  Everywhere we turn, we find someone new trying to kill us.”

“They’re coming Scott,” the man said, stepping closer.  “And they’re coming for you too.  You’re still number one on the dead pool.”

“I know,” Scott said.  “I know Lydia can get the answer from Meredith, she just needs more time.”

Brett didn’t know what kind of answer Scott was hoping to get, but he did know that time was something they were running out of.  Fast.

                                                                    . . .

They stayed in the warehouse the rest of the day.  Scott called in some woman, who was probably another hunter, and another werewolf, one of the Hales.  The man who owned the building, Argent, had had them helping him lay ‘preparation’, which to Brett felt a lot like busy work.  

Now the sun was about to set and everyone just stood around, waiting.  Satomi’s pack stood in a group off to themselves.

“I’m sorry you two,” Satomi said, looking from Brett to Lori.  “I promised your parents I’d look after you.  But I haven’t been able to get you away from this.  I fear I’ve failed them.”  She looked at the ground.

“Satomi.” Brett reach out to her.  He couldn’t stand to hear her talk like that, she was doing everything she could.  “None of this is your fault.  You’ve taken great care of us,” he said.  “Some things just can’t be helped.”

She smiled and touched his arm.  

“I can’t do this,” Lori said, shaking her head.  “When they come, if I shift…I can’t control it.”

“That doesn’t really matter right now,” Brett said, turning to her.

“But what if I hurt somebody.”

Brett leaned over until their eyes were level.  “They’re going to hurt you,” he said.  “You do whatever you have to.”

She wrung her hands together.  “I don’t want to lose control.”

“I know,” he said.  Losing control was scary and Lori was just learning.  But honestly, he’d rather she lose it and maybe kill somebody, than not let herself change at all and be the one killed.  Maybe that was selfish of him but he didn’t care.  “Look,” he said, “you’re not gonna lose control.  Ok?”

“You can’t know that.”

“Yes, I can,” he insisted.  “To stay in control you have to find something that holds you to your humanness.  You haven’t really had that before, but you do now.”

“What do I have now?” she asked, not convinced.

“Mom and Dad,” he answered, glancing at Satomi.  She nodded at him encouragingly.  “You’re going to think about them,” he continued, “about what they’d want you to do.  When you feel yourself losing it, you think about that, and you’ll be fine.”  He made her look him in the eye.  “Ok?”

She nodded and quietly said, “Ok.”

Across the room, he heard Scott talking with Derek Hale, Kira, and the gun toting woman.  “Have you heard anything from the others yet?” the woman asked.

“Lydia is talking to Meredith, Stiles and Malia are heading to the lake house,” Scott said.  “They’re trying to stop it.”

Brett rolled his eyes and walked over to them.  What was he talking about, ‘stop it.’  Obviously they hadn’t been hunted enough yet, if they thought somehow they could just make this mess end.  Misplaced optimism wasn’t going to help anyone.   

“What if there is no stopping it,” he said.  “What if this doesn’t end until we’re all dead?”

Scott and Kira’s faces fell, like for the first time they were actually considering that.  Derek Hale just nodded. 

“Then let’s send a message,” he said, looking over everyone.  “Let’s make it perfectly clear to anyone with a copy of that list.  It doesn’t matter if they’re professional assassins, hunters, or an amateur who just picked up a gun.  Anyone who thinks that they can just hunt, and kill us for money is going to be put on another list, our list. They get to be a name on our dead pool.”   

All right, Brett thought, finally feeling like they might just have a chance.  That’s more like it.

                                                                  . . .

Darkness had finally fallen.  And Dawn had thought everyone was antsy before.  She sat perched on a three legged desk, Gabby balancing out the other side.   She swung her feet, drumming out a rhythm on the desk’s side.  Kleavon Jones leaned against the wall a few feet away, cracking his knuckles every few minutes.  Brett stood in front of her, arms crossed over his chest.  She was pretty sure he hadn’t been still since the sun set.  Carlos sat at the desk’s chair, the calmest out of all of them, but still tense and alert. 

Dawn was nervous, but she found that she didn’t have most of the dread she’d carried for days.  Derek Hale was right.  It was time to show these dead pool people that they weren’t just going to wait around to get killed.  They were going to make every death cost their hunters as much as they possibly could.  After days on the run, she was ready to put up a fight.  

One of the alarms Mr. Argent had set up earlier started to sound. 

“Here they come,” Gabby said, taking a breath.

Dawn hopped off the desk and flexed her fingers, letting out her claws.  Here we go.  She looked over at Brett.  “You ready?”

“Let’s do this,” he said, wearing that cocksure grin she often saw before lacrosse games.  It faltered a little as the gun fire started to ring out, coming from every direction. “Stick close.”

She nodded and then together they sprinted toward the nearest group of intruders.  They all wore black, with body armor, helmets, flashlights and radios.  They looked like a swat team from a movie and there were dozens of them.  Each carried a large gun, the laser pointer sights of which were shining all over the room.

Dawn roared, fully transforming and lunged for the first one she came to.

                                                                    . . .

The place quickly descended into utter chaos.  Hunters and werewolves running everywhere, fighting, breaking apart, fighting again.  Gun fire continuously rattling, roars and shouting coming from all directions. 

Brett grabbed a man by his gun arm as the guy hurried right past him, heading for Carlos.  He threw him into the wall.  The man yelled, falling to the ground in a heap.  He scooted back, raising his gun to bear on Brett.  Brett kicked the gun out of his hands and leaned over him, slashing his claws across the man’s arm when he reached for a knife handle that was sticking out of his belt. 

Brett roared, stumbling back as a bullet slammed into his stomach.  He turned and dove around the corner of the wall to get away from the shooter. 

He grunted, pressing a hand against the wound.  He’d felt the impact more than any pain and it was already closing up.  When he took his hand away it was sticky with blood, and clawless. He’d changed back to fully human without realizing it. 

Brett jogged down the hall and into the next room, seeing Scott kneeling over the form of a hunter.  Scott stood and hurried over to him, taking a bullet in the process.  “Go find the others,” Scott said, “tell them to hide.”

Brett nodded and turned back the way he had come.  He wondered what had changed, why hide now?  But he assumed Scott knew what he was doing, or at least he hoped so.  

He found most of his pack back in the room they’d started in, along with another half dozen hunters.  Dawn was backed into the corner, snarling at the man who had her pinned there with a knife.  Brett charged forward, slamming into the man and knocking him to the ground.  Dawn lunged at him, ripping off the man’s helmet and Brett drove his fist into his jaw.  The hunter went limp. 

“Thanks,” Dawn panted.

“Where’s Lori?”  Brett asked, raising his voice over the gunfire.

“I don’t know,” Dawn said, shaking her head. 

Panic rose up inside him.  Where was she?  “Scott wants us to pull back,” he told Dawn.  “He said to try and hide.”

“I don’t think we can,” Dawn answered.  “They’re everywhere.”

“Yeah, just tell Satomi ok,” he said, glancing around, looking for the best route back out of this room.  “I’ve got to find Lori.”

She nodded and he got back to his feet sprinting off.

A few minutes later, all the gunfire just stopped.  Brett ducked, hiding behind a pile of smashed sheetrock.  He held his breath, waiting for whatever came next, but to his surprise, the hunters just stood there, looking back and forth to each other in confusion.  Then, one by one, they lowered their guns and started to walk away. 

Brett stared after them.  What just happened?  He shook his head in disbelief.  Maybe Scott had found a way to stop it after all.

Once they’d gone, he got back to his feet.  “Lori!” he called, pausing to listen for a reply.  “Lori!”

He closed his eyes, filtering all the sound coming into his ears for her voice.  When he found it, the sound made his blood run cold.  She was crying. 

Oh please no, he thought, running toward the noise.  Please let her be ok.

He rounded a corner and saw her with her back to a wall, her knees pulled up to her chest and her face buried in her hands.

“Lori.” He ran over to her and knelt in front of her.  “Lori, Lori look at me.” He pulled her hands away from her face, then started running his hands over her, looking for any injury.  “Are you ok?  What’s wrong?”

“Brett.” She threw her arms around his neck and clung to him. “He was gonna shoot me,” she said.  “He had the gun on me and he was gonna shoot me but Scott grabbed him.  He was gonna kill him.  His eyes.  They were terrible.” Then she started crying.

“Hey,” Brett said, hugging her tight.  “It’s ok.  You’re ok.  It’s over now.”  He let his head drop, feeling a few tears sting his own eyes as he breathed in her scent.  He should have been there to protect her.  She’d been that close to dying.  He didn’t know what he’d do if he lost her too.

“Come on,” he said, pulling back.  “Let’s get back to the others.”

She nodded, sniffing and wiped her sleeve across her face.  They both stood and he took her hand, leading her back to the main room.  When they got there everyone else was standing there, looking a little shell shocked.  A few bodies on the floor were all that remained of their attackers. 

“Is it over?” Kira asked Scott.  “Really over?”

He stared at her for a moment, then nodded once.

Brett felt Lori squeeze his hand and he looked down at her.  “It’s over?  They’re not going to come after us anymore.”

Scott turned to her. “No,” he said, looking much more confident now.  “No, not anymore.  The Benefactor cancelled all contracts.  It’s over.”

Gabby laughed a little hysterically and sank to the floor.  The nervous, half crazy laugh spread to them all and they look around at each other with diminishing disbelief.  They were going to be ok.  The dead pool was over. 

“What do we do now?” Lauren asked, turning to Satomi. 

“We’ll remain here for the rest of the night,” she answered, “to insure word gets around. That is,” she turned to Mr. Argent, “if our host doesn’t mind.”

He shrugged.  “By all means.”

Satomi smiled.  “We’ll remain here for the night, and then we should be able to return to Devenford tomorrow.”

Scott and his friends left within a few minutes, heading for their homes, leaving Satomi’s pack alone in the ware house.

Brett let out a breath and sat down, all of a sudden realizing he was exhausted.

“We made it,” Lori said to herself.

Brett looked over at her and grinned.  “Told you we would.”  Though to be honest, he hadn’t been so sure when he’d said it.  He let himself fall onto his back and Lori lay down too, taking off her jacket and laying it under her head. 

“Brett,” she said, after a minute.

“What?”

“You didn’t hurt anybody did you?” she asked.  “Scott was going to tear that guy to pieces.”

“That guy was going to kill you, he deserved it.”  She made a face and he sighed.  “No, I don’t think I did any permanent damage.”

“Good,” she said, relaxing a little. 

Dawn came over to them and to Brett’s surprise, she lay down next to him- right next to him- and rested her head on his arm.  Even though they’d been dating since February, they hadn’t really done much snuggling.  He wasn’t quite sure what to make of it now, after everything that had just happened.

She smiled up at him tiredly.  “Is this ok?”

“Yeah,” he said.  “Yeah, this is fine.”

“Good.”  She shut her eyes, nuzzling his arm as she settled in.

Brett glanced over at Lori, then down at Dawn and smiled.  He still had both his girls.  He rolled onto his side, reaching for one of Dawn’s hands with his free one.  The warmth of her body so close to his felt good.  Brett sighed contentedly and closed his eyes, feeling safer than he had in a long time.

He woke up to pins and needles stabbing all up and down his arm.  “Dawn,” he grunted, trying to pull it out from under her.  “Dawn, I need my arm back.”

She stirred and lifted her head, blinking.

Brett sat up and grabbed his shoulder, trying to message some life back into it.

“Sorry,” Dawn said.  She reached out and took his forearm, rubbing it between her hands.

Over to their right, Lori giggled.  “Aw, you two are cute.”

It was mid-morning, and most of the pack was already awake.  Several of them sat across the room, talking with Satomi. 

“All right, thanks,” Brett said, pulling his arm from Dawn’s grasp and shaking it out.  “I don’t think we’re going to have to cut it off anymore.”

Dawn laughed and rubbed her eyes.  “Ugh, my dad will kill me if he finds out about this.”

“Come on, that wasn’t bad.”

“No, but he’ll still kill me.”  Her expression clouded.

“What?” Brett asked, stifling a yawn.

“The night I ran out on him is the night we went to the woods,” she said.  “He probably thinks I actually ran away.  Or that I’m dead.”

“Well, you’ll get to tell him otherwise soon,” Satomi said, coming over to them.  “It should be safe to go back now.”

“Can we get something to eat first?” Lori asked.

Brett’s stomach growled in response.  It had been two days since he’d eaten, and that had been a snack bag of chips from a convenience store.  He felt like he could eat a dozen McDonald’s breakfast biscuits by himself. 

Satomi smiled and nodded.  “Yes, I think we could all do with a meal.”

                                                              . . .

Dawn stood on her front step, hesitating.  She hoped her dad wouldn’t wig out too much when he saw her.  She hadn’t had a bath in almost a week, if you didn’t count the other day’s down pour.  She was dirty, and her clothes were torn and stained with blood. 

Would he be mad at her for leaving?  She’d run out of the house with hardly a word and then disappeared.

She took a breath and reached out her hand, paused, then made herself knock.  She couldn’t just open the door herself and walk in like nothing had happened. 

The door opened and Dawn held her breath, waiting.

Her dad just stared at her for a moment, so many emotions mixed in his scent and expression she couldn’t identify them.

“Hey Dad,” she said, shuffling her feet.

“Dawn.”  He stepped outside and put his arms around her, pulling her to him. 

That wasn’t what she’d expected, not right off anyway.  But it only startled her for a few seconds.  She rested her cheek against his shoulder and hugged him back, tears starting to sting her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Dad,” she whispered. 

“Are you all right?” he asked, still not letting her go.

She nodded. “I’m fine.  It’s over Dad.  They called off the list.”

“Oh thank God.”  He reached up with one of his hands and stroked her hair.  “Thank God.”

                                                                        . . .

The lights clicked on over the field and Brett started, feeling his adrenaline spike.  The ball KC had thrown to him sailed right past him.

“Come on Dude, that was an easy one.”

“Sorry,” Brett said, jogging after it.  He shook his head, and tried to slow his heart rate back to normal.  There were no hunters out here tonight, he knew that.  No crossbows, no poison knives, just lacrosse. 

He glanced up at the stands, where Lori, Satomi and Dawn sat, waiting for the game to start.  Dawn caught his eye and smiled at him.

Brett nodded to himself.  Just lacrosse.  He scooped up the ball in his net and threw it back to KC.  The other boy had to take a step back to keep his balance when he caught it.

“There we go,” KC said.  “That’s more like it.”

                                                                   . . .

Even without the vendetta they’d had for the scrimmage, they were still mopping the field with the other team.  Scott wasn’t at the game and the Beacon Hills team was suffering without him.  The only other kid with much skill they had was Liam, and he wasn’t on his game tonight.  Something was wrong with him, Brett decided.  He kept losing focus, freezing up. 

Liam snatched up the ball and this time ran with it.  But he wasn’t really trying to make a play or even get to the goal, he was just running, running scared.  He was losing it.

No you don’t. Brett started moving toward him.  If Liam shifted out here in front of everyone they’d all be in trouble again.   He ran into Liam, shoving him.  The other boy flew back, landing flat on his back.

The Beacon Hills side of the stands shouted angrily and the ref blew his whistle.

Brett pulled his helmet off and looked down at Liam, who had also thrown his to the side.

“What did you do that for?” Liam demanded.

“Because you’re afraid, I can smell it on you from across the field,” Brett said.  “Are you hurt?”

“No.”

“Are you still alive?”

“Obviously.”

“Then get up,” he snapped.

Liam stood, glaring at him.  He didn’t seem to get that Brett had probably just kept him from showing everyone what he really was.  And probably from tearing somebody apart.

“Are you good to play?” the ref asked, running over to them.

Liam nodded.

The ref looked at Brett disapprovingly.  “Do you plan on pulling something like that again?”

Brett didn’t take his eyes off Liam.  “Only if I have to.”

Quietly, Brett slipped into the Beacon Hills locker room.  He found Liam, sitting on one of the benches, staring at the floor and fiddling with his lacrosse stick.     

“You ok?” he asked, leaning his shoulder against one of the lockers.

Liam looked up at him, confused. “We lost.”

After everything that had happened over the last few weeks, Liam could still get hung up on a lacrosse game.  Brett wished he could bounce back that fast. 

“But you’re ok,” he pointed out.  “Right?”

“Why did you do that?” Liam asked.  “Why did you help me?”

“Because of Scott,” Brett answered.  “He saved me.  He saved all of us.  Do you know how lucky you are?”

Liam looked at him crosswise.  “What do you mean?”

“Scott’s a True Alpha,” Brett said.  “That means he didn’t get his power because he was born with it, he didn’t get it by stealing it, or by killing someone.  He earned it.”  That just didn’t happen every day.  True Alphas were one in a million. 

Liam still didn’t seem to get it.

Brett smiled.  “Look, you’re not strong because you can lift a lot of weight now.  You’re strong because you endure,” he explained.  “Satomi calls it ‘strength of character.’  You’re lucky to have him.”  He pushed off the locker and went back out.   His team would be looking for him soon.

Dawn met him just outside. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Remember what happened the last time you were in there?”

“How could I forget?”  Brett said, subconsciously reaching a hand to his throat. 

They started walking back toward the others, and he noticed she was smiling at him funny.

“What?” he asked.

“It was nice of you to check on him,” she said.

“Ah,” Brett looked scandalized.  “Were you eaves dropping?”

Dawn set her face in the picture of innocence, then she smiled and flashed her eyes, pointing to her ear.  “Can’t help it.”

“Yes you can.”  He nudged her with his shoulder. 

She laughed quietly and looked back at the building.  “I thought you didn’t like him.”

Brett shrugged.  None of that seemed all that important now.  Funny how almost dying a few times could do that.  “Well, Scott’s not here, and he was struggling out there.”

She nodded. “You know, I was actually hoping Scott would be here.  I wanted to thank him.”

“Thank him?” Brett said, trying to look jealous.  “Should I be worried?”

“No,” she said like it was obvious and stepped in front of him.  Taking both of his hands, she raised herself on her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his, lingering for a few seconds. 

Brett smiled against her lips, kissing her back.  He’d been joking; he knew he had nothing to worry about.  Honestly, he’d been hoping to get to talk to Scott as well.

She pulled back and started walking again.  “Besides,” she said over her shoulder.  “I think you’re more enamored with him than I am.”

They were almost to the parking lot now, where everyone else was loading up to go home.  Home.  Brett felt a slight pang at the thought.  A month ago, home had looked pretty different.  Back then it had still included his parents.  

But Dawn was standing beside him, and across the parking lot he could see Satomi and Lori.  His parents might be gone, but he still had a home, and a family, even if it was smaller now. 

He took Dawn’s hand and laced his fingers through hers.  “We’re gonna be ok,” he said.  “Aren’t we?”

“Yeah.”  She nodded, squeezing his hand.  “I think we are.”