While Derek was facing off against a contingent of Hunters, his betas, Isaac and Erica, were not in a batter position.
Right after they left the school, Gerard led his own contingent of Hunters to capture them. And unlike Derek, they were easily rounded up as they quickly fell into the Hunters' pace.
It was not exactly their fault since Gerard had his eyes on them since the very first day he arrived at the school.
Isaac and Erica had black veins running allover their body at this point, indicating the severeness of how poisoned they were.
"We can't continue running." Erica said with labored breaths as even breathing was now a very painful task for her.
There was no way they could escape a veteran such as Gerard's trap but fortunately for them, they were quick to run away.
Unfortunately for them, their luck ran out just as fast as it came.
The first part to laying down any efficient plan is to know the terrain and the nature of what your are planning to hunt down and Gerard wholefully embodied that teaching as he used special emitters that could only be heard by those with very advanced hearing, like werewolves, and guarded them straight to the heart of his trap.
Since all their strength had long been sapped away due to the poison, they couldn't put up any form of resistance as the Hunters sprung up on them and quickly caged them in a mountain ash circle where they then proceeded to take shots at them until they were just at the inch of their life.
"Make sure that they are always poisoned. We'll need them as bait for Derek if he manages to escape again." Gerard gave out the order and his men swiftly carried it out.
"I thought we were going to kill them once we caught them instead of using them like bait?" One of the men stated his opinion but Gerard merely chuckled.
"Who said anything about letting them stay alive for long?" As far as he was concerned, the moment these two fell in his hands was the moment they died.
"Pack them up fast! We are going after their Alpha next!" He shouted.
Gerard was not a fool, he knew something changed on Saturday night and with the news of Jackson being dead and also what his own coroner wrote in his report, it was highly likely that the young Whittemore was the kanima.
That means the kanima, Derek and his pack, along with the vampire, and possibly another unknown werewolf, were all there that night and the kanima was the only fatality. A pity.
If only they could have killed themselves more then he wouldn't have had to mobilize a lot of his people for this job but now was their opportune time.
Isaac tried pushing himself off the ground despite his body being wrecked with holes and spasming from the electric shocks that were used in order to knock them out, but his resolve died as his eyes met Gerard's.
"Oh, a feisty one, huh? It's always the loyal ones that are the most troublesome."
BANG! BANG‼
He shot Isaac on both shoulders and the poor sap immediately lost consciousness as blood leaked out of him.
"We'll use this one to draw him out since he's so eager."
...
In Derek's hideout, the entire place was bloodied and had corpses of different states strewn across it but none of that mattered for now as the only thing of focus was the man that was finally on his knees as the fight bled out of him.
No, rather than calling him a man, it was better to call him a savage beast.
Chris looked at Derek's downed form with cold eyes and if not for his father's explicit order to bring him in alive, Chris would have pulled the trigger right then and there and ended this whole fiasco once and for all.
"Radio in. Tell them we caught the Alpha." He turned around and clicked his tongue as he saw the state of the hideout that was now riddled with the body of his men, all caused by one mutated Alpha.
His phone rang and an involuntary scowl unconsciously made its way into his face as he saw the caller.
"…"
"Is Derek in bounds?"
"Yes, we are bringing him in now."
"Good. Since there's no reason for me to come over, I'll be waiting for you at the bunker."
The call was cut at that moment but Chris' face never lost its cold facade. "Let's just get it over with." He said with a sigh.
...
On Tristan's side after they've escorted Allison past her block, the two of them walked to Demarco's bar while engaging in small conversations along the way.
"How long do you think it'll take them to find Matt's body in his house?"
"Probably tonight. Everyone who's been involved with Jackson recently is a prime suspect and I overheard he'd lent Jackson his camera for a brief period and the fact that he was absent today will make the police want to question him."
"Only to find out that he's dead. A little funny if you asked me." Malia mused.
"It's cathartic at best. But I guess I can't say that since I killed both of them." Tristan replied.
Upon getting to Demarco's pub, the slightly pudgy werewolf heartily welcomed them in since it wasn't every time they chose to visit.
"Hey guys. Guess the atmosphere is about the kid who died huh?" He asked, even though he was fully aware of who did what and who was what.
"Yeah, it's a shame though. He was kinda alright if you minus the inflated ego." He said as he walked behind the counter with practiced familiarity.
"Hahaha, I heard about that." Demarco said with a laugh and commented. "You know, Brett's a bit pissed off that you don't come to his games as much as he comes to yours."
Tristan paused and looked at Demarco and silently continued fumbling with the drinks and glasses. The number of times he's been here has given him quite the experience when it comes to mixing drinks and everything else a bartender does behind a counter.
Demarco chuckled as he saw the silent treatment he was being subjected to because Tristan was too tired to come up with a better sounding excuse other than it was a hell of an effort most of the time.
Due to the presence of customers in the pub, they didn't gossip much about what they wanted to talk about and just chatted about mundane stuff until Demarco closed up.
"So, I guess it's going quite well with the Argent girl if Malia isn't a murdering mess by now?" He asked after his last worker clocked out.
Malia didn't say anything after being called out by Demarco and just silently helped him clean up, apparently not in the mood to have him sour her good evening.
"Honestly it's the best we could have hoped for. She's still drawn between duty and desire. Morally, I feel that she's a bit grey in the head. Quite screwed up for a girl of her upbringing." Tristan gave his impression of Allison and inwardly, he'd readily admit that he was quite surprised by the girl and how she was reacting to everything that was rapidly happening around her.
Demarco nodded in understanding. Knowing Tristan's character and how he behaved around people, it made perfect sense to him that Tristan's friends, or those he associated closely with, weren't exactly cut from the same material as the rest of the 'normal' populace.
"Well, whatever it might be, I'm just glad it's working out for you guys."
...
[The Argents House]
Allison hugged her pillow absentmindedly as her mind wandered through every bit of memory she had of Tristan and Malia.
From their first day together where Malia lent her her only pen to Tristan's initial annoyance whenever she was present, and then to when they watched the lacrosse practice for the first time later in the day.
From Malia saving her that day from the Alpha to finding out about werewolves and then remembering the bizarre question(well no longer bizarre question) when they had flat out asked what she would do if they were supernatural creatures.
Back then she'd thought that they were just joking around or having one of their funny arguments, but who had known? She did suspect soon after but finding out that your two best friends were a rare werecoyote and an even rarer and feared vampire, was too much even for a teenager like her.
But…
"Hehe, I wonder if they'll let me see their fangs? Maybe even see Tristan drink blood?... Preferably animal blood."
Now there was no way she'd be scared of her best friends, even when they both threatened to kill her and her family, since she fully understood, at least partially, where they were coming from and the position they were in.
.
.
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