Try (Book Four, Teen Wolf)

Ch. 1: The Dark Moon

Flashback

I walked into the loft, with my bag over my shoulder that I had planned to be using for when I left Beacon Hills. That didn't work, obviously. I had told Scott that I wouldn't leave now, not right after Allison and Aidan died.

I sighed, looking around. "Derek? Derek!"

I didn't get an answer, walking further inside.

And slowly came to a stop when I saw the bullet shells on the floor. I next to them, picking up one gold bullet shell with a Mexican skull on it.

I recognized it instantly, exhaling, looking up in anger.

The Calaveras. Araya, Severo, their hunters. The ones who had captured us when we had been down in Mexico, the ones looking for the "She-Wolf", who we had thought to be Cora.

They found us.

They took Derek.

And I was gonna go get him back.

But I couldn't ask for help. Not from Scott, Stiles, Lydia, Kira or Malia. The Calaveras were smart, they captured Peter, Derek and me. I couldn't involve the others.

When I asked for help, the people I asked help from usually ended up dead.

I worked better alone, anyway.

With the bag still over my shoulder, I stood up, already turning around for the door, sliding it shut with a loud slam, going to save Derek.

I knew where the Calaveras lived.

In Mexico.

*

I had gotten inside the Calaveras' club and home easily. No one saw me. And the ones who did see me where unconscious on the floor.

I walked down the dark, deserted hall, the walls red, looking through every room, every cell. I didn't find Derek.

A hunter was rounding the corner, seeing me. "Tara Hale."

He drew his gun, trying to shoot me. I caught his wrist, using my other fist to punch his face. Grabbing his throat, I turned around and threw him into the wall on the other side of the hall, already starting to leave when he fell to the floor.

So I had left. I had gotten out easily.

Too easily.

It had been when I had tried to cross the border back into California that I had the problem, driving in a rental car.

They had been waiting there. Six hunters, all with guns pointed at the car I was driving.

"Oh, great," I whispered, already lowering my head when they started to shoot, shattering the entire windsheild.

I got out of the car, three hunters coming toward me.

One raised his arm to hit me. I caught his arm, using it to flip him onto the ground.

I turned to another, kicking him in the stomach, turning around and kicking him again, kicking him all the way back into another car.

As the third one raised a knife, throwing it at my head to kill me, I leaned to the left, making the knife go past my head and into another hunter's stomach that was behind me, and he fell, but he wasn't dead. I grabbed the one who threw the knife's head, turning around and throwing him into another hunter, making them both fall.

Five down.

One to go.

The one who had a shot gun shot the gas tank on the rental car behind me, making the car explode, the explosion enough to throw me through the air. I landed hard, rolling over the dirt, sand, desert road. I only stopped when I rolled into another car.