"Malicious, antisocial and murdering orphan from Texas? That's it? That's who gave birth to me?" Her eyebrow twitched with the hushed pack surrounding her.

Stiles scratched the back of his head, "That's about it, babe."

"No one knows what exactly happened when her parents died except that she was there to witness it- never been the same," Lydia spoke, flipping through a binder at the table. Derek's loft had an eerie chill about it that day.

Braeden was next to her, "But it's the most likely night that she was bitten. Afterwards, she was a continuous runaway from foster homes and various homeless shelters for children. She apparently acted like a completely different person."

"But ten years ago, she just vanished. There's no more records of her living in the US or the surrounding countries. We assume that's when she started the possible underground mafia of shape shifters and traveled continuously under the radar to protect herself. Also, this could be the beginning of her nickname as the Dessert Wolf," Scott explained, his arm around Kira and resting on the back of the couch.

Stiles stood behind them, eyes focused on nothing at all, "What else do you want to know, Malia?"

The woman in question looked them all over before storming for the door, "I'm going home."

Due to the fact that she had taken to sleeping in Peters old room, Derek grew concerned and followed her out. Somehow, he ended up walking her home in an acquired silence. It wasn't until they were quite a ways across town and in a dark alley did he speak.

"Did you tell Peter?"

"Yes," Her features unreadable.

"How did he-" A swift kick to his stomach and the air left his system, the attack came from a figure who jumped down from a close fire escape.

Malia took the opportunity to kick the backs of his knees and bring him to the ground. Derek quickly recovered, just in time to see two more adversaries crawl from further down the alley. Knocking one against a building football style, he averted the figures path towards his cousin. She and the first enemy had been rolling around and wrestling before she got on top to punch him with a rock she found nearby. Derek was about to start punching his pinned friend when a startling kick to the back of his head left him collapsing to the floor next to the wall.

It was too late to save the one Malia was attacking when the two heart their friends heart stop stuttering, so they went in for the kidnap. She kicked, bit and scratched before they were fed up and knocked her out as well. The last thing she saw was Derek starting to gain consciousness in the damp night.

-(·)-

"You haven't heard from her either?" Stiles asked, raw fear in his voice. His hand gripped the phone for support.

Lydia cleared her throat as she moved to the edge of his bed, "Kira hasn't?"

He listened intently to the voice in the phone before turning to the Banshee, "No. Scott and Liam have been after her scent ever sense Derek got back. He'll be okay, Braeden just said he needs to take it easy. Kira's waiting with them to go join Scott whenever they ketch up with her."

"Okay, good- that we've got a plan."

After a moment, he let the mobile drop to his desk and he fell onto the chair in a similar fashion, "Who would do this? Take her and not even kill Derek? - you know what I mean."

She stood, approaching the subject and him carefully, "Stiles, think about it. The day we find some solid information on her and Malia is taken? If that doesn't smell like fish-"

"-Derek's friend is the only one who knows-"

"-We don't know if he as truly his friend or not, Stiles. You saw how he and Malia acted after they met with him. How did he know the Dessert Wolf's real name anyways?" She placed a hand on his shoulder.

He shook his head, "Why would she take her daughter hostage?"

"She doesn't know that she has a daughter, Stiles."

-(·)-

"Braeden, just let me go," Derek rolled over, the bed creaking with his movements. His bare was chest visible and the sheets only covered his middle section.

"No," Her spot at the table seemed almost permanent.

Pulling his legs over the side, he sat up, "Why?"

"Because I want you out of danger God damn it!" It wasn't completely at yelling standards but he got the message nonetheless.

He slipped on his shirt before standing to find pants, "I'm always in danger, babe. It's kind of my calling to get hurt at least twice a week. One time-"

"Well, that needs to change," The binder she had been skimming slammed closed. Elbows on the table, head in hands, she let out a long sigh.

Walking over, he kissed the top of her head, "You need to stop pushing yourself and get some rest, okay?"

She fell back into him, "Where is it you need to go, Derek?"

"I'm just going for a drive- that's it. I hate not being able to do anything."

She nodded, "You have an hour before I call Stilenski to put an APB on your sorry ass."

"Good to know you care," He walked toward the lift.

Once he was on and a few floors down, she couldn't help but mutter, "God help us."

-(·)-

"It's no good. They covered her scent after about half a mile with so many things, I don't know what any of them are," Scott held back his anger as Kira and his mother looked down in disappointment.

Liam rubbed over his face, "I swear, I thought I had her after only to find out there was an actual coyote in the area."

"What are our options now?" Melissa asked from her spot on the couch. The McCall residence was dark with anticipation.

Kira spoke hopefully from next to her, "We could tell the Sheriff to start searching."

"He already knows- Lydia, Stiles and Parrish have been sitting around his house doing just this for the past few hours," Melissa stood, a pace coming over her.

Scott took her spot next to Kira and pulled her close, "Okay. So, back to our current options?"

-(·)-

The teenage girl pressed her bloodied hand to her neck. The wound was still gushing but her lightheadedness was wearing thin. Her high-wasted shorts did not protect her legs from the concrete floor. She might have felt some planks of wood with nails sticking out of them all around her. She fell back on to her ass and reached her hand up to feel a dried blood stain on her stomach. The wound probably was grotesque but it had already healed. Her tight, black crop top was cut just under her bust where the gash had been. Using her- thankfully- shoe covered feet to feel around in front of her, she realized that the planks did not outstretch directly ahead.

Malia crawled forward, the dark making it a slower descent into the unknown. A noise came from the direction she was headed and she fell back on to her knees. The door propped open and the flood of light blinded as her hands went in front of her face. The smell was already making her dizzy again.