Getting to the Warehouse the last couple of times took quite a while. This time was no different. Beacon Hills was an active place when the curfew wasn't set, and Marco's chosen location was at the edge of town. An abandoned industrial compound full of metal rust and shadows.
But slowly, the interior was being made into something more. Marco was building Shifters. True Shifters. And as such, they needed a place to train. To learn to connect with their other half.
He'd cleaned up the inside of the warehouse at night. Setting up weightlifting equipment, punching bags wrapped in sheet metal and even bringing over familial weapons. Who said a WereWolf was only allowed his claws?
He'd also brought in a massive and expensive Senegal Ebony Wood table. The dark wood somehow still had a shine as he stood over it in the shadows. Blueprints and newspapers held down by a portable police scanner sat atop the papers.
After a few minutes, everyone stood around the table placed in the center of the spacious warehouse.
Scott and Stiles were nervous. Their eyes bulleted around the room like ping pong balls. Derek and Isaac weren't the same.
"Ok. So….. you said a Kanima needs a Master. Alison was reading parts of Gerard's Beastiary and she was able to catch the word friend—" Scott started.
"Friend, Master— call it whatever. The point is, it's a two person relationship. One commands, the other follows." Marco explained.
"Is that true for…. The other Kanima?" Stiles questioned. Always thinking ahead.
"Yes." Marco explained, "I'm sure it's a very powerful Warlock that's in control. Probably the leading rank. But this one is controlling it to hunt us. Jackson's Master is after something much more personal. Probably not even relating to us."
"So then we keep Jackson here until we can find his Master." Scott said, "We can switch off who comes and brings food and water."
Stiles had already started up a text to Jackson's parents beside Marco. He peered over to see what the WereCoyote was saying.
"Going to visit Danny and then hanging out with friends. Be back later, love you."
Marco cringed internally at the message. Once again, his tunnel vision was on full display. Now for its strength instead of weakness. All his focus was on Jackson at the moment, and with that being said. He knew what Jackson was, and what he wasn't. At a surface level at least.
And the text Stiles was about to send was not Jackson. Not in a million years.
"Are you braindead?"
Stiles almost dropped the phone, "What?!"
"Does that even sound like Jackson? That doesn't even sound like Scott and he's a puppy." Marco started.
Scott mean mugged him from across the table beside Isaac.
Stiles itched his buzzed head in thought, "That's a good point…. Maybe I should lay off the adderall." He then coughed abruptly and spoke again, "So…. Marco, w-what would you say? You know if you… were in his situation."
"Are you saying I'm similar to Jackson?"
Stiles flustered, "Pshh— No… no….."
Marco didn't look away.
Stiles gave in, "IM just saying…. If Jackson descended from an ancient Egyptian warrior race and faced some sort of horrific trauma you guys would be twins."
Marco looked back to the table, "Say he's going out. He'll be back later."
"That's it?" Stiles questioned.
"That's it."
Derek shook his head.
"Ok, sent."
"Me and Scott can do first shift for feeding." Stiles added.
"We can't come late though. We have a history exam coming up…. Midterm actually." Scott added.
Marco, Isaac and Derek stayed silent. The two young Canines weren't understanding. They looked as lost as two Gazelle Calves abandoned in the plains. It pissed Marco off.
"What are you two even talking about?"
Scott looked genuinely confused— as if the thought of what was to come wouldn't ever even enter his mind.
Stiles' face twisted into something more serious. The humorous mask cracked. He was putting the pieces together.
"You don't want to keep him here until we figure it all out, do you Marco?" Stiles questioned.
"No. Because I'm not an idiot."
"What… wait— you want to kill him? Marco you said it yourself the Master controls the Kanima. Doesn't that make Jackson innocent?"
"I don't give a damn what it makes him. You, Scott, have already forgotten why you're here." Marco pointed his finger at Scott as claws stretched.
Scott's eyes glowed with anger. That same tawny yellow that seemed to get closer and closer to orange by the day.
"We're at War! There are people out there with enough Magic to level this entire block and they want our skins on their armor as a trophy! The same way they wear my brothers and sisters! They died by that magic. They're polluting this city with it and the Kanima is their greatest weapon. THEIR GREATEST! And now we have one…. And you want to— what? Let it sit around with food and water like a pet while you try to solve the mystery in time?"
"He's innocent." Scott started again this time the words sounded less human.
"You're a dumbass. How many more truly innocent people will you let die trying to prove his? What's happened to Jackson is unfortunate, but what if because of that something happened to your mother? Would he still be so untouchable? Would you still look at all this as if we're in a fairytale, Scott?" Marco questioned.
He could hear the muscles begin to bubble beneath Scott's skin. Claws and fangs ripping through previously human tissue.
"We can't just go killing whoever you see fit, Marco. Especially when they're innocent. He's sixteen. I won't let you." Scott was fully transformed. A sight more imposing than ever before due to his training with Marco and the others.
Marco's stony face broke and he smiled before letting out a low laugh, "You think age matters now? You think I didn't watch my family burn against the Warlocks? You think countless others haven't seen the same against people like the Argents? Women and children of all ages? You think they care? You give yourself weaknesses and call them morals. Now I'm no psychopath. But I told you what I'd do if you got in my way."
Stiles swallowed, "Guys—"
Nobody heard what else he said due to Marco flipping the table sideways and kicking it into Scott.
The other Shifters jumped out of the way as the Table smashed into Scott, slamming them both into the far wall.
A few feet off to his left, Jackson sat unconscious, tied to a support beam by chains.
Marco pounced on Scott amidst the splinters of wood, moving as a blur.
He landed with a punch to Scott's chest, knocking the wind out of him and sending a shockwave through the dark warehouse that sent a tidal wave of dust flying.
Scott coughed up blood and swiped at Marco's face.
Marco twisted and caught Scott's wrist in his jaws, throwing him across the warehouse again.
Stiles moved to break things up with Isaac only for them both to come under the Alphas gaze.
"Leave it. Scott needs this." Derek said as he held them back.
"You agree with Marco? Should we kill Jackson?" Stiles thought.
"When I bit him, I didn't think he would become this. But now that he is, he's on the other side. All I know is I want the Warlocks and Gerard dead." Derek explained.
Speaking of wanting someone dead, Marco beat into Scott relentlessly. His claws ripped through his skin like scissors to paper. He rolled with him through the main area, biting and cutting into him with the claws on his feet.
Finally, Scott let loose and returned the favor, bitting into Marco's neck and ripping into his massive back.
Blood spilled as Marco growled in pain, somehow growing larger even.
He tried to shake the WereWolf but if there was one thing they were known for it was bite force. Even the Onurians feared that. Second to only the Naguals who could crush steel effortlessly.
Marco cursed and got to his feet as Scott continued to cut and bite at his thick neck. In a flash he leapt up into the support beam Jackson was chained to. With his long talons he cut into the concrete and climbed even higher. Scott was too deep in a rage to see reason.
Marco was approaching that same destination. As Scott went to cut open his mutilated back some more, Marco jumped from the support beam and flipped.
They fell from at least fifty feet, with Marco landing on Scott with a wet crunch loud enough to be heard outside the warehouse.
Stiles and the others were silent as Marco got to his feet. Scott lay beneath him covered in blood and deep gashes.
Marco stood in the darkness. His torn clothing fell from his transformed frame. Revealing the dark fur and leathery grey-black skin of his Grey Lion form. For the first time, the others could clearly see the arm he often tried to hide as the mountain ash wrappings loosened.
It was covered in tribal markings. It reminded Stiles of a tattoo if it was done with ground up bone.
The exposed portions glowed in the darkness. Fissures of yellow energy sparked the same color as his eyes at the base of his wrist. Further up his forearm they began to glow blue and Stiles' throat closed up in terror.
He didn't know why. But it reminded him of that night he found Lydia in the forest.
Eyes the same color as—
"H-hey! Where am I….HEY!" Jackson's voice cut into the silence.
It was too dark for him to even see Marco and Scott in front of him.
Marco liked it that way. So they were forced to use their true eyes. Maybe he'd done it for this as well. No need to use masks in darkness.
He adjusted his wrappings, covering up the mysterious glowing markings once more as he turned to approach Jackson.
"H-hey !!Whoever's in here, my parents are going to sue you bastards into the ground! I SWEAR IT!" Jackson's bravado faltered as he felt Marco's presence.
"….Please…. Just let me go!"
Marco crouched no more then twenty feet from him. Jackson didn't even know he was looking right at him. He didn't even know what was coming.
Marco's leg muscles tightened into iron tubing unbreakable and shaking with power. With tension. His pawed feet gripped the stone floor, spreading for a better center of gravity— so he didn't put a hole in the floor when he jumped. When he pounced.
In the silence Scott crawled after Marco, dragging himself along with his hands. Beaten and broken in body but nowhere else. Not entirely at least.
His stubbornness remained.
And so did his ideals.
He pushed himself off the floor, even with his broken wrist, mysteriously damaged and transformed hand, and rampant blood loss. He pushed.
He could feel Marco was only seconds away. Scott couldn't reach him. He still tried. Anything. Anything.
Scott transformed, faster than ever. Small cuts healed, fur bloomed, and his eyes gleamed blood red.
"WAIT!!"
A wave of red energy boomed from his eyes like an endless gleam that smashed into Marco and Jackson.
Marco fell to his knees before even pouncing.
In his stunned state, he could hear Jackson lose consciousness with a sigh.
That familiar smell of infected blood returned….