Saving Stilinski

The Wolf's Bane Grenades

Kali entered the cave with a warped cardboard box in her arms. She overturned it, and a half-dozen silver, aluminum can-sized canisters fell out. The Alpha tossed the box aside but Peter retrieved it, shook the dirt off of the rim and stacked the Druid books inside. "I thought I told you to move everything out of this cave!" he growled at Kali.

Kali folded her arms against her chest and pointed her nose at the ceiling. "You should've moved it yourself! What do you want with a White Druid's junk, anyway?"

"These texts are indispensable," Peter explained as he briefly exited the cave to put the box down outside. "There are hundreds of spells and rituals even I've never heard of."

While the two werewolves spoke, Lydia Martin stood and marched towards the line of mountain ash. Three feet before she got there, though, Peter raised his hand. A knife dropped from the ceiling, barely missing her toes. "Now, now," Peter said. "Don't make me release the rest of those."

Lydia, Scott, Stiles, Allison, Isaac and Derek looked up and saw fifty blades hovering in the air above them. Scott backed Allison up towards Stiles, and spread his arms to shield them both. To prove his point, Peter flicked his hand again and a second knife missed Isaac's shoulder by a centimeter.

Lydia stood her ground. "It's you, you're him," she whispered. Her eyes squinted tight. "I can see your real face, now. You're the Darach."

"No." Peter held up a forefinger and smiled politely. "I'm one of them. I can't take all of the credit. But, yes, I am a Dark Druid. You should've guessed, idiots. How else could I have possessed Lydia and raised myself from the dead? I don't have my full power back yet but every time I slash someone's throat, I get a little stronger."

Derek's eyes flashed red. Fangs out, knees bent, head down, he roared and ran at the mountain ash barrier like a bull at a matador. He bounced off, but tried again. And again. It wasn't until Stiles shouted his name and both Scott and Isaac grabbed him that he stopped. Blood dripped from his broken nose.

Lydia's eyes filled with hot tears. "You're still connected to me. That's why I keep finding the people you killed. That's why I keep drawing oak trees. That's why I have the dreams and the hallucinations."

"Unfortunate side effects," said Peter. "And more clues you all missed. Honestly, if your whole generation is this limited I'm very concerned for this country."

With his arm wrapped around his wound and his knees shaking, Stiles fought his way to his feet. "Heather," he hissed, "did you kill her?" His voice cracked on each syllable.

"I did."

Gerard Argent entered the cave. Deucalion stood behind him, the Twins on either side. The elderly hunter marched right up to the barrier, and grinned. "I was going to take you that night, Mr. Stilinski. I followed you and Mr. McCall to that party. But, well, when you left that sweet young girl alone in the wine cellar, I decided to seize the opportunity."

Stiles took two stumbling steps forward, swayed, and would've toppled over if Derek hadn't gotten both arms around him. "Why?" he demanded. "The sacrifices, the rituals – why are you doing this?"

"Why?" Gerard's jawline tenses and the muscles beneath his red cheeks twitched. "Because that mountain ash I swallowed almost killed me! Thanks to Heather and the other virgins, I can sleep a whole night without coughing up black sludge. And after tonight, I'll be completely healed." Gerard pointed at Derek, Isaac and Scott. "Three werewolves," he said, "three werewolves and I'm cured!"

•••

Chris Argent didn't expect Deaton to be so fast, yet so quiet as he ran through the woods. Alan led him in the opposite direction of the cave where his daughter faced off against Alphas. They waded through a stream, slid down a valley and then climbed up a slippery rock face. "Where are we going?" Argent demanded.

Alan stopped a minute later and pointed at a pair of black military jeeps partially hidden in the foliage. "We're going to save Allison, Mr. Argent. And the young werewolves under my care." Deaton fumbled around the rock until he found an oval boulder the size of a car seat. "Help me," he said, and shoved his shoulder against the boulder. "There's a tunnel into the cave."

•••

Peter's eyes flickered blue. They shone so bright that they made his smiling teeth look like the sky. "Yes, you sacrifice the werewolves," he said to Gerard, "and I'll sacrifice the innocents." He gazed at Stiles, Lydia and Allison in turn. "None of you are murderers, as I recall."

Stiles was only on his feet because Derek held him there. "I will be after I kill you," he growled.

Kali held her stomach and laughed so hard that tears filled her eyes. "Do we have to kill this one?" she asked. She bent at the waist and picked up one of the silver cans. "We could use a jester."

Gerard ignored her. "You won't be completing your ritual tonight, I'm afraid," he said to Peter. "Allison is coming with me."

Everyone turned to look at the youngest Argent. She stood between Scott and Stiles and lifted her chin up high. "I would rather die with my friends than be your puppet," she spat. She braided her fingers with Scott's.

Gerard looked at the dusty ground and sighed. "Don't make me do this the hard way, Allison. I know I look like a weak and frail old man, but I have Oak Magic you can't imagine."

Allison stood her ground.

"So be it." Gerard raised one gloved hand, and grinned.

Blood spurted out of Scott's throat. He coughed and fell onto all fours. Allison fell with him, her arms around his shoulders. "Stop it!" she said to her grandfather.

Stiles made a choking sound. He seized, eyes wide, then vomited blood onto his own shoes. "Stiles—" Derek gasped. The teen collapsed into the werewolf's arms. Another cough, a desperate look into Derek's eyes, and Stiles' eyes rolled back into his skull. Derek held Stiles against his chest like he was a sleeping infant, and pressed his ear to his lips.

"Stop – stop it!" Allison shouted.

Isaac had dropped to Scott's side, but he leapt up again and grabbed Lydia's arm when she shrieked. She coughed up blood and began to sob.

"Okay – Okay!" Allison held her hands up in surrender. "I'll come with you – I'll do whatever you want just – just stop hurting them! Please – please!"

Gerard's hand fell to his side. He raised his opposite hand and gestured Allison forward with a wave of his forefinger. Tears on her cheeks, hands shaking, Allison exchanged a terrified look with the gasping Scott, and then stepped over the line of mountain ash. Aiden and Ethan escorted her outside.

Peter's face was bright red. "If I can't have the innocents," he said slowly, "I want the wolves to sacrifice. I want to get back my full strength tonight too, Argent. That was our deal."

"Then I suggest you go round up three other teenagers," said Gerard. Peter's nostrils flared but Deucalion cleared his throat, and Peter said nothing more. With a last glare at Derek and then at Deucalion, he left the cave.

Gerard picked up a canister and tossed one to Deucalion. "Would you like the honor, son?"

Deucalion stood between Gerard and Kali and explored the canister with his fingertips. "And these are...?"

"Weaponized wolf's bane," said Gerard. "These grenades will collapse this cave and fill every crevice with vaporized wolf's bane. This was Allison's mother's idea, may she rest in peace." Gerard tossed his grenade into the air and caught it again. "This stuff will kill a werewolf in under five minutes." He held the grenade in full view and shook it, mockingly, at his victims. "This is the part where you beg for your life, Derek."

Derek's eyes fired up red. "Bite me."

"Give my regards to your mother," said Deucalion. He yanked out a toothpick-sized pin and threw the grenade into the cave.