***DEREK***

Skylar, Scott, and I stick it out as long as we can when Deucalion's remaining goons ambush us on the edge of the woods. Scott, for his part, pushes Lydia, Isaac, and Allison out of the circle that's formed around us, and then yells, "Get to the lookout! We'll meet you there in fifteen minutes!"

"Don't make promises you can't keep," I say in an undertone. Like this one - naturally, the three of us quickly find ourselves subdued. Damn, these Alpha Pack werewolves are nothing to sneeze at.

One of the Alphas muscles us into the back of a van - how typical. Then, once we're all inside, he produces several sets of handcuffs, one for each of us.

"Aww, and they're not even the fuzzy kind," I say, rolling my eyes. "What kind of S&M orgy are you guys planning, huh?"

The Alpha growls at me, but otherwise gives no response.

Before long, we arrive at an unexpected destination - my loft. There, they bring us upstairs to the main floor, right in front of the big window overlooking the town, and leave us alone - presumably to await the arrival of their master.

I turn around and gaze through the window for a second. It's late afternoon, coming on five o'clock, I think. Because the window has a western exposure, that means the sun really streams through it at this time of day. I look to my left, where Skylar sits. She's mostly protected by her hoodie, but her hands are fully exposed to the sun. Leaning back, I see them starting to blister ever so slightly.

"Didn't you say you escaped from a locked coffin once?" I ask her.

"Oh, this is nothing," Skylar says in a tight voice. "The only problem is...my lock-picking kit is in my front pocket."

I tilt my head as I look more closely at the kangaroo-like pouch in the front of her hoodie. Sure enough, I see a small bulge in there, in the shape of what might be a small tin box. I cross in front of her and clumsily stick my hand as far into her pocket as I can get it with the cuffs still on. Yep, there it is - a little tin box. Now all I have to do is get a good hold on it, preferably with two fingers - and I've got it.

"Open it," Skylar says. I obey her orders as best I can. It's clumsy work, but I soon pop the box open. As I do so, I smell a faint tang of metal - and also a stronger mint scent. "Wait a minute..." I mutter. "Is this an Altoids tin?"

"'God save the Queen,'" Skylar says, quoting a slogan I remember from one of the first Altoids ads they ever had around here. "'We'll take care of her breath.'"

"Uh...okay then." I creep around her and position myself so our backs are turned to each other.

"You're not gonna try and pick the lock yourself, are you?" she asks.

"Unless you're the sort of fearless daredevil who can dislocate her thumbs and Houdini her way out of those cuffs," I say, "let me help you. Scott, keep an eye on the door. If you hear anyone coming, let me know."

"Won't you want me to look at the cuffs?" Scott suggests. "Someone's gotta see what you're doing."

I grit my teeth. "Fine, but keep your ears open. And your nose, if yours is sharp enough to smell Deucalion."

"You could do with keeping your ears open too, couldn't you?" Skylar asks.

I carefully pick a hairpin out of the tin, which I leave on the ground before sticking the pin into Skylar's handcuff lock. Or, at least, trying to. "A little more to the left," Scott says. "Uh...no, the right. Your right."

I move the pin to my right, and hear it click as it falls into place in the lock. Good. Now I just have to wiggle it around until I can - another click. There we go. I've almost got it. This is so much more complicated than I'm making it sound. I swear, I'm not built for this kind of fine-motor-skill work.

Click. Click. Snap.

For a long, horrible second, I'm scared I may have broken the pin. But no - I hear the cuffs fall open and slide harmlessly off Skylar's wrists.

"Thanks," she says, hooking her fingers around mine for a moment, just long enough to take the hairpin. I'm surprised by how warm her skin is - I was under the impression vampires, because of their serious pallor and diminished (though not nonexistent) pulses, ran cold. Maybe if I were to look at her with wolf-vision, though, she'd look just as healthy and warm as any normal human.

"Do Scott next," I say, turning around and gesturing to him with my head.

Skylar looks from Scott to me, then winks. "I think he's a little young for me, thanks."

Scott's mouth turns up at the corners for a second, but then he starts humming the Imperial March from Star Wars.

"What the...?" I begin, only to stop and stiffen when I hear footsteps beyond the door. "Shit. Wait...that's your way of signaling me?"

"It was the first thing that came to mind," Scott says.

Skylar stuffs the handcuffs into her pocket, then holds her hands behind her back so she can feign a continued state of captivity for Deucalion's benefit. Assuming he's the one who-

"Hello again."

I narrow my eyes. Of course he's back. I hate this guy so much.

"No villain can resist bragging about their evil plans before killing the good guys," I say. "Now's your chance to uphold tradition."

"Your cheek never fails to amuse me," Deucalion says, turning his blind eyes on me.

"You heard him," Skylar says. "Blab away, O Dark Lord."

Deucalion lets out what sounds like a squeaky-toy giggle. "I only wanted to see if you were interested in joining my Alpha Pack, Derek," he says. "Is that too much to ask?"

"No," I say, "but the answer is no. Every time. Sorry, but I'm not willing to business with you. It'd violate my code."

"I'm almost afraid to ask," Deucalion says silkily, "but...what code?"

"Try honor," I say, venom creeping into my tone. "A sense of duty. Protective instincts. All things you lack."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Deucalion says, pouting.

"It's true, though," Scott says. "I barely know you, but I can tell one thing about you - you only care about power."

"And courage," Deucalion pipes up.

"But with your priorities the way they are, your soul is empty." Skylar's arms twitch. She must be itching to bring them back in front of her body and whack Deucalion in the face.

"I won't pretend I'm any True Alpha," Deucalion snickers. He regards Scott with a baleful expression. "Do you know what that is?"

Scott shakes his head. "Never heard of it."

"I can't imagine your Alpha would've taught you about it anyway," Deucalion says, turning to me with a curt nod. "He's got a scattershot way of training his people, doesn't he?" He heaves a sigh. "A True Alpha receives his powers from pure willpower and strength of heart. Not from usurpation the way most Alphas do." He sniffs the air like the predator he is. "You know what, Derek? I suspect that somewhere in your pack, you might have a future True Alpha lurking about. So if you change your mind and join me, your Betas likely won't become Omegas as you undoubtedly fear. No, no, there will be a True Alpha around whom the others will rally."

I exchange glances with Scott, who raises a questioning eyebrow. I simply roll my eyes, wishing my cuffs could be off so I could spin one finger next to my head. Cuckoo, cuckoo.

"I saw that," Deucalion laughs, his head snapping so he directly faces me.

"Of course you did," I grouse, shaking my head. At the same time, I catch a glimpse of Skylar. She's very slowly moving around Deucalion, gingerly balancing on tiptoe as she walks. A dainty ballerina she's not, however. She's got her Altoids tin in hand. I have to wonder, though - what kinds of weapons does she have in there? Besides hairpins, that is.

Because she's so silent, she doesn't trip whatever bat-sonar he's got. Satisfying an earlier curiosity of mine, I switch on my wolf-vision and see her heat signature. It's not as strong as Deucalion's or Scott's, but there's still a soft orange glow around her tall, lithe form. It occurs to me that, were she to have been bitten by a werewolf as Hunter was, she'd probably have a similar feline form to his. Could be a werelynx, could be a weretiger. Maybe even a werejaguar.

"Aww, and you're giving me the pretty eyes," Deucalion teases me.

"I don't know any True Alpha," I say. "If that's what you really want - to corrupt such a one-in-a-million werewolf - you're wasting your time. So fuck off."

"You lie," Deucalion says. "You know of a True Alpha in the making in your ranks." He stretches out his hand, allowing one clawed finger to stroke my cheekbone.

"You know what happened the last time someone did that to me?" I growl. "I lost my virginity. In retrospect, though, I chose exactly the wrong woman to fall head over heels for."

"You don't even need to say which Beta of yours is the True Alpha," Deucalion says. "Just let me into your mind." He pulls back, all his claws out.

I catch Skylar's eye - she's behind Deucalion now. "Under his claws," I mouth, seeing her take the hairpin from the tin again.

Deucalion stops short. "Wait a second..."

Even as enhanced as he is, he can't see this coming. Skylar grabs his wrist, then shoves the pin under his claw.

For a second, Deucalion's face is frozen in 100% pure crystal-grade surprise. Then he howls loudly enough to make my windows crack ominously.

Kids, don't try this at home. There's no faster way to make a werewolf hate your guts than to go for the claws. It's almost as bad as a direct kick to the balls. Trust me, I know from experience.

While Deucalion writhes in pain, Skylar takes the pin back and unlocks Scott, then me. "Now what?" she whispers.

"The lookout," I whisper. "Scott knows that place pretty well by now, I think."

"What d'you mean?" Skylar asks.

Scott blushes. "What he means," he laughs, "is that it's the town's make-out point."

"Of course it is," Skylar says. "It sure sounds like one, now I think about it."

"The others better be there," I say, ushering Scott and Skylar out the door as Deucalion gets back to his feet. "I don't wanna spend all night doing search and rescue."

"Not to mention 'search and destroy,'" Skylar mutters.

"F-For the rest of the Alpha Pack, you mean?" Scott asks, more than a trace of hesitation in his voice. Good - at least someone around here is still more human than the rest. Unlike Deucalion, I can appreciate that, especially in a kid like Scott.

"They're too bloody dangerous," Skylar says. She puts up her hood again as we leave the building. "My parents told me to use any force necessary to subdue them, if need be."

"Don't kill them," Scott says, his voice still shaking a bit.

"No," I say, in agreement with him. "That's what Deucalion wants. I'm sure of it. He wants us to kill his Alphas and take their places."

"I wouldn't at all be surprised if that were true," Skylar says. "From what I've seen, your pack would make powerful allies to anyone who wanted to recruit you to their cause."

I stop for a second to process her unexpected words of respect. "Thank you," I say.

"Do I detect a chink in your strong and silent bad-boy armor?" Skylar asks. She reaches up to pinch my cheek affectionately. This, combined with her crooked smile, serves to enhance the family resemblance between her and Hunter. "Okay, Scott. Lead the way to your lookout make-out point, yeah?"