The place they arrived at was an empty warehouse that was tucked into a very old neighborhood. The entire place seemed unremarkable and somewhere in the back of their minds, they were already thinking of finishing this one up and getting to the next location, coming up with nothing at the end of it all and Mr. Westover ending up dead.
That thought however changed when Malia pushed open the door to the warehouse and stepped in.
The first thing she felt was how different the air inside the empty warehouse was when compared to air just behind the door.
It wasn't just the cool air of a large closed warehouse; the air felt different as if there was something different to it.
It was the same air Tristan had felt inside the bank vault but Malia had been too distracted to notice.
The next thing she noticed were the reverberating murmurs and whispering echoes that sounded through the whole room.
"She's here."
"Malia!"
Before any of them could say anything about her weird behavior, she broke off into a sprint amidst their alarmed screams.
Malia had a maniacal grin stretched in dark schadenfreude across her face as her nose worked overtime and picked up and pinpointed the faint wafting of blood.
Her claws were already out as she raced towards where she could hear eerie chants, and the only thoughts on her mind was coming across the bitch who tossed Tristan around like a ragdoll.
The warning Tristan gave her about confronting the Darach alone had long since flown out of her head, ever since she got here to the warehouse four seconds ago. This was a major flaw in Malia's growth as a werecoyote.
On other times she could hold her calm, even if it was someone she knew that was suffering or getting hurt, but she became a little more than a mindless beast when it came to Tristan.
Tristan also was the same, but what separated them was that Tristan wasn't averse to playing the long game when it came to killing a prey.
… Or it could just be that something in the air challenged Malia's instincts and she just wanted to fight a witch.
"Malia, slow down! It could be a trap!"
She had no idea who was shouting at her because at this time she had come across the pale mutilated bag of the fleshly walking body of the Darach who was in the middle of some kind of ceremonial prayer, getting ready to offer up another sacrifice.
"Hey scarface!"
The almost whitish glowing eyes of the Darach turned to her and her deformed mouth let out a shrill growl that made Malia's steps falter but her rebellious instincts killed in and she snarled back.
She lunged at the Darach who by now was aware of Allison and Lydia's presence and also that she wouldn't be able to complete her sacrifice.
Malia was already in mid-blitz when she felt someone grab her hand. Before she could draw it back from the Darach, a crunchy crack sounded crisply through the halls of the empty as her hand was snapped in another direction.
Before she could scream out, a scraggly hand with overgrown fingernails grabbed her mouth and snuffed her voice shut.
Her eyes widened in horror as she finally saw the clear haunting look of the Darach under its worn out cloak. It enlarged further as she felt her legs losing the feel of the ground as she was being raised up from it.
The Darach started whispering something that Malia couldn't hear well and her sight started becoming blurry as the Darach's whisper got increasingly louder yet she still could hear nothing.
Her consciousness was just on the brink of fading away when she felt a sizzle of pain from her shoulder, pain just enough for her to barely open her eyes and see the Darach using her other hand to catch the arrow.
With the last ounce of strengths she could pull out before she lost consciousness for good, she bit viciously into her lips with her fangs.
The pain roused her consciousness to a state where it could feel and influence her limbs. Summoning all her strength, she wanted to try and push away from the Darach but spasmed into stillness as she felt an arrow piercing through the back of her stomach to her front.
The Darach had used her as a convenient shield to block the arrows Allison shot at her. The Darach looked at the three girls in front of her and the look in her eyes made it clear that she regarded them with interest.
Pain and anger surge in Malia's body and she mentally berates herself for being too impulsive. The pain and shame she felt of her present situation fueled her anger which fanned the flames of her ferocity.
Briefly ignoring the pain of the arrow going through her flesh, she used her legs and kicked against the Darach, or at least she wanted to before she found herself being flung against a concrete pillar, almost breaking it in two with the impact.
She heard the swooshing of arrows and the deafening bangs of guns going off as she struggled to make sense of what had happened. She tried to pull out the arrow but couldn't even muster the strength to do so.
"Malia, stay with me!"
"I'm –" She broke into a coughing fit of gasp and blood, unable to get a breath of word out without the pain flaring up and messing up her head. She grabbed something, someone, and pulled herself up despite her head being a disco woozy.
"Malia, are you okay?" Someone asked, Allison's father given the familiar scent of gun smoke. "Hold on, I'm going to pull the arrow out now."
She had barely said anything or even given a nod when a searing pain threw her barely recovered focus into a spinning well as Chris yanked the arrow out of her.
He nodded in commendation to her fir not lashing out at him for that, something most werewolves without enough mental control would do instinctively. With how brash she was, his hand atop the hilt of his stun baton wasn't an exaggerated action.
Malia's focus came back after closing her eyes for a minute and letting her mouth heal. She personally pushed back her disjointed arm and waited patiently for the arrow wound to heal up.
Seeing Malia now out of it, Chris turned to the two other girls and shouted in anger. "What the hell do you girls think you're doing?!"
Lydia shrunk back startled and wounded up in bundled up emotions from what just happened, while Allison stared down right at her father.
"Don't give me that look, Allison. This isn't what we talked about." Chris said. This was new territory for him as well and he was yet to be convinced that Allison was grown and strong enough to traverse the supernatural world on her own. "This is different, Allison.-"
"Boyd was attacked, dad. Scott was taken by Deucalion, and Derek was almost killed. I'm already deep in this irrespective of either of us liking it. The Darach could just as much as take one of us as it can take one of you."
Chris looked at Allison but he couldn't come up with a logically sounding counter argument.
At the end, he sighed and looked at Malia who was holding her stomach over where she was wounded and whispering what felt like a chant to Chris.
Though he couldn't hear it clearly, he knew what she was saying; a mantra used mostly by the betas of the Buddhist pack.
Three things cannot long be hidden; the sun, the moon, and the truth.
"You good?"
"Peachy… and a little bit hungover." Malia said tersely. It was evident on her face that she was in no good mood. She did just have her ass handed royally to her.
"Well then, let's go girls."
"Dad, there's a recital at the school today and-"
"I know. It's worth a shot and also a relatively safe bet." Chris said as they left the warehouse.
Lydia snorted sarcastically. "Relatively safe alright. At least until someone decides to sacrifice an unsuspecting victim in front of half of Beacon Hills."
Chris said nothing to that, keeping his silence as he walked them to their car. "This reckless plan of yours, anyone one else in on it."
"Just Tristan and Stiles, why?" Malia answered, holding back a wince as she got into her seat.
"Not particularly. I'll see you at the school, girls. And don't make any other pitstops except for going home." He said to his daughter but realized something and looked at Malia and Lydia. "That goes for the both of you as well."
They nodded sourly, especially Malia who wasn't feeling exactly relatable at the moment, before driving off.
"As you okay, Malia? That arrow got you good." Allison asked, a little bit worried.
"I'm fine. Apart from a bit of pain every now and then, it's almost gone." Malia replied, and then muttered to herself something too soft for Allison to hear. "Just gonna hurt a little bit more when I tell Tristan."
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