Marco and the rest of the pack had never moved so fast. It was all a blur viewed— experienced, through a filter of red. Blood red.
One moment they were exiting the Vet Clinic, escaping the smells of death and fear. The feelings of absolute pain. The Warlocks made the animals deaths long and agonizing. The next moment they were hunched down in the bushes outside the parking lot of Beacon Hills High.
Like all parking lots even in the absence of active hours cars resided.
Rusty Honda's, old Cadillacs.
Some were new additions. Signs of true activity inside the Highschool.
Activity they expected.
The black militaristic heavy duty trucks and muscle cars failed to blend into the night. Too reflective and ominous in nature. In the cold of night they could still feel the warmth of their collective engines in the distance. Smell Deaton's fear and the Hunters gunpowdery scents wafting from the seats.
"At least fourty inside. Assume everyone one of them has a gun with enough rounds to down each of us." Derek explained in a whisper.
"Be wary of the swordsman." Marco added as he looked back at them all.
"Why?" Isaac asked. He never fought them as the other Shifters had.
"They're martially skilled and more gifted with advanced Runes. They also will have sharper senses. No dulled hearing or smell from constant time in the range. " Marco explained.
"So. What's the plan?" Scott asked.
"We can't call the police. Not only is it filled with Warlocks but my dads….." Stiles trailed off and stifled the oncoming growl.
"Cops have no place in a war zone. Not this one. It's just us. They made the mistake of trying this at night. Then again they had no choice. They'll look out for us, but a man can only see so far into the dark." Marco's skin thickened and darkened to grey in the night, losing its rich brown glow seamlessly.
Derek and the others followed soon after, shifting along as far as they could to their partially synthesized forms.
Marco scented the air, freezing in the midst of preparing to enter.
He could smell fear.
"Feeling fear is natural." Nobody replied to his changing voice.
"Letting that feeling take you is weak. Weakness dies here." Marco explained.
"Lovely pep talk." Stiles rolled his shoulders as fur ran down his jawline and forearms.
"Now go."
The others headed towards the high-school, noticing Marco wasn't following.
"What are you doing?" Stiles looked back and asked. His eyes glowed like headlights in the dark.
Marco slipped off his guitar case and pointed at the rooftop, "Dealing with the snipers."
Stiles nodded briefly before they all took off on all fours, ducking and diving around the cars filling the parking lot.
He could hear Isaac whisper something to stiles as they took off.
"I knew there wasn't a guitar in there."
"But what is?"
***
Scott lead the pack towards the Highschool with Derek. They hid behind an all black Escalade, working to stay out of the way of the laser pointers running across the parking lot as the snipers viewed the perimeter.
His hair stood on end. Heartbeats slamming in his ears. He couldn't believe it got to this point. Only an hour ago he was unconscious under a blanket of Wolfsbane smoke with Alison and Lydia.
Now here he was. On the verge of war. He needed to find Alison when it all ended. He needed to know how her father allowed this. This is exactly what Kate Argent wan—
Something whistled through the air and smashed into a body with a wet crunch. The smell of blood filled the air like a mist. One of the sniper laser pointers spun out and disappeared as the sniper fell.
Suddenly a coldness washed over him and goosebumps speckled his skin. Not from the hunters. But from something behind him. Where Marco was.
Derek grabbed him, "Let's move!"
He pulled him into movement. The pack crossed the street and ran alongside the school. Derek punched in a glass window to draw their attention away from the back door they slipped into.
They were inside in seconds.
The enclosed area allowed their senses to hone in on everything inside and nothing else. The footsteps. The smells. The emotions.
Derek looked back at Scott and nodded, no need for communication.
Scott dug into his pocket and pulled out a torn piece of Deaton's lab coat, holding it to his face in the dark of the geometry class.
As he shut his eyes, his world gained a sort of unseen trail for him to follow. Like a line connected to his nose, pulling him to the source.
Smells of varying herbs, aftershave and dog hair. Deaton's scent.
He headed for the door, dropping down to a crouch as a body crossed the other side.
A sword at his back shimmered in the darkness. He held a short barreled rifle along with it. Somehow the weapon didn't look wrong in his hands despite the modernized knights armor and Grey Lion hides he wore.
As soon as he passed, Derek ran for the door and opened it, sneaking up behind the Warlock to rip off his helmet and tear through his throat.
It happened so fast, Scott got to his feet finally as Derek dragged the man in.
Scott and the others watched in shock as Derek dropped the body. The magical glow of his armor lit the room in a dark purple hue.
Scott's arm stung suddenly.
"Don't forget what he said." Derek referenced Marco's words. "If you have the scent let's go, Scott."
Scott swallowed forcefully. Literally and metaphorically. Then he lead them out of the room.
***
Slowly, they fell into step as a pack. Scott and Derek led the way, taking down the Warlocks where they could. They'd only run into three as they headed down hallways and into bathrooms.
Along the way they took pieces of armor like vests and swords— just as they did when fighting at Marco's warehouse. Even though it smelled like pain and death it was better than nothing.
And Deaton was closer than ever.
They could hear him talking.
"—thing. He just works for me."
"Lies!" Gerard sounded more alive than ever. Completely different from his cold blooded principle demeanor.
The rest of their conversation was cut off by a door opening at the end of the hall behind them.
Everyone stiffened, preparing a fight accompanied with a lot of noise due to the fact that their backs were exposed and the closest room was the library which was down another hall.
Stiles put two hands on his broadsword, "Shi—"
Glass shattered on the floor above them, followed by a roar loud enough to shake the entire HighSchool.
"He's here! Marco and the Wolves are here!"
Warlocks and Argents all through the HighSchool screamed into their intercoms to Gerard.
Marco went to work upstairs, seemingly being as loud as possible, throwing tables and chairs and busting Warlocks through walls to pull the attention away from them. That or he was just doing what he knew.
Marco wasn't very heroic from what they'd experienced.
Either way, it worked.
The Warlock headed upstairs, and Gerard responded in the distance.
"Of course he is….hehaha…" Gerard's voice deepened with every laugh until it was almost inhuman.
Deaton coughed, "What the hell…?"
This time Scott was the first to move.
There was no more stealth. No more quiet approach. This was the war Marco was talking about.
They headed for the gym.
***
Deaton's insides finally unclenched as Gerard turned to face the gymnasium entrance doors.
"Here they come." He said.
The dozen or more Warlocks and Argents filling the room readied their weapons.
The double doors into the gymnasium dented as something smashed into them.
Followed by another boom.
Another.
And then finally, the doors were blown off the hinges.
Scott and the others entered.
Gerard chuckled and clapped once.
"If it isn't the troublemakers." Gerard held up a hand to his Hunters and Warlocks as he looked at them.
With Marco's training they'd come further along in their journey towards Full Synthesis with their beast.
They were larger. More animal in form. But they were missing someone.
"Where….. is the Lion?" Gerard questioned.
None of them replied.
Gerard tapped his cane on the floor a few times as he clicked his tongue.
"Do any of you know about him? About the Grey Lions? He's the last of an old clan. A means to an end. A KITTEN straying too far from his ashen litter!" Gerard seemed to be talking to someone other than them.
Something growled from all around them.
"That did it." Stiles whispered nervously.
"Come out kitty….. I want to see your claws." Gerard taunted fearlessly.
Something flew past Stiles ear from the door they just entered. So fast he barely noticed it smash into one of the Argents standing beside Gerard.
The man was knocked off his feet and pinned to the wall by a spear. Dead on impact.
Gerard walked over to Deaton, "Don't! No more sneaky games. You will come in here now. Obey me or the Druid dies."
They only knew one being in Beacon Hills to have a spear. And Gerard was nuts enough to taunt it.
As if they weren't already down on their luck. Now the Blue Eyed Beast was inside the HighSchool…..?
Stiles wondered where the familiar chill was. The goosebumps and terror. The feelings of a murderer in every sense of the word sharing the space.
Stiles spared a glance behind him at the doorway. He found Marco standing in the shadows.
"The hell?"
Marco entered the gymnasium. He looked down at the Grey Lions right arm to find him ripping at the bandaging covering his tattoos.
The moment it disconnected from his wrist, blue sparks danced on his skin, and he changed.
So seamless he almost missed it.
His limbs grew longer. His skin darkened to a midnight black, the bones in his face jutted out more aggressively as his fangs and incisors extended. Despite the Kevlar vest and shin guards he wore Stiles could see the fat disappearing from his monstrous bulk. As if the steaming white tattooing was literally burning it out of him.
He suddenly looked less graceful and evenly melded between man and beast. He looked horrific. He looked like….
Stiles knew what was happening before everyone else. Their faces must've looked just as shocked as his when the final piece of the puzzle clicked into place.
"Marco Mihos, The Blue Eyed Beast."
As if on que, Marco's eyes shifted from yellow, to a deep and soulless blue.
The room went as cold as ice and Marco roared.