CHAPTER 66

Under the guise of the dim lights and pretense of a dance, Tristan fangs was deeply pierced into Malia's jugular as they both moved with the beat, footsteps in rhythm to their bloody dance.

As Tristan gulped in large amounts of blood from Malia, his mind went into overdrive as he tried to understand just what was happening. 

From his own knowledge, Derek must have taken his advice and invited Scott to his pack which ended up leading Jackson to him and thus giving him the bite. 

So apart from him and Malia, only Scott and Jackson, and also Stiles, should know of Derek being the Alpha at this point in time. 

So how did they know of the beta being a part of Beacon Hills? 

The only reason they would do something like this would only be because they were sure enough of the fact that there were betas with affiliation to the Alpha and Derek in Beacon Hills and that conjecture was enough for Tristan to worry a bit. 

He saw Derek's torture chamber under the old Hale house and he knew that not one of them, neither Scott not Jackson, could bear that level of torture without giving a name up. 

That was not forgetting to mention that the Argents right now were most likely on kill mode after the death of Kate and the rumors that had been floating around after the Sheriff cracked the case. He was pretty sure the Sunday paper will carry an article about it. 

His blood palpitated in excitement as he savored the rich taste of Malia's blood. No matter how many times he had drank her blood through the years, there was something tantalizing about it that never seemed to dull his taste buds. 

Malia's arm around his neck was soft and tender as she hummed a soft tone only he could hear. If not for the fact that he was draining her blood at a fast enough pace that was quickly bringing her to death's doors, this would have counted as a romantic experience for the two of them. 

Unfortunately for Tristan, he couldn't afford to let his mind wander off too much unless he'd be drunk in Malia's blood and would feel intoxicated at the feeling of her life slipping from his hands. A thought he dared not entertain. 

His senses spread through the hall they were in and as if he was hit with an enlightenment, he could the circulating lumps of blood around the hall. 

Blood moving around in human silhouettes as they danced to the beat of the song being played. 

The more he drank, the more the blood around him became more familiar. He felt that he could call to them. He just needed them to get out of the fleshy container holding them in. 

With that revelation, it felt as if something finally clicked in Tristan's head as his eyes snapped open. 

"Malia, drink."

Malia, who had been peacefully humming a tone while tethering on the edge of consciousness, rested her head in the nap of Tristan's neck while he twirled her body to his movement's rhythm. 

As Malia sank her fangs into Tristan's neck, Tristan started noticing another change inside his body. 

Whether it was due to the blood high he was on, he could now feel more clearly what was going on inside his blood and a little push from him subconsciously was all that was needed for his blood to tremble as it started attacking the residual poison inside its stream with a predatory frenzy. 

It felt as if his boil suddenly turned into an inflammable oil that only needed the slightest thought from him to burn with the most scalding heat it could muster. 

For Malia, the moment Tristan's blood flowed into her body, her blurry vision cleared and all the muddled thoughts were washed away. Despite the fact that she was accustomed to Tristan's blood having drunk it for most of her life, the intoxication she got from this bout of pure redness was more intense than any wine she's ever drank. 

While the two were in a battle of their own, Allison was standing off to the side looking at them from afar with a forlorn expression. 

The picture they painted, to her, was one that warned of caution should any stranger step too close and yet was intoxicatingly beautiful at the same time. 

Unlike the normal youthful romances she's heard of and seen as she went through puberty, the one in front of her held no glamor or anything inane like a youthful passionate promise to each other. 

They just were. 

Tristan and Malia. It needed no announcement or anything cute that made stomachs turn or flutter; all there was was Tristan and Malia, two whole parts that just made the other fuller. 

Naturally she felt jealous as green envy enveloped her heart, increasing every second as she watched them and it was then that she knew what she really wanted. 

Like every high school teenager, she's had her own share of passionate fantasy romance of a boy who'd sweep her off her feet and make everything bloom like roses, but seeing them now, she felt those romances were too bright to be realistic. A fantasy. 

"I can't believe this…" She let out a depreciating chuckle as she saw the bleak path her thoughts were treading. 

Maybe Malia was right. Maybe what she needed to do was just find a way to let out everything instead of just letting it boil and simmer within, burning her from the inside out. 

Maybe if she was like Malia then she wouldn't have trouble truly expressing herself. 

'She really is strong.'

Unaware of the attention being paid to them, Tristan's eyes flickered at the same moment Malia let go of him after having gotten a very good fill of blood from him. 

"That was…" She said slightly out of breath with reddened cheeks. "… the best taste I've ever gotten."

Tristan sighed in relief as he saw that she was fine. Having already figured out that either a member of the student body or the teachers were the one who spiked the drinks, meaning they were part of the Argent Hunting family which wasn't much of a stretch given that their dead bus driver was also one, Tristan figured that he should have been more wary. 

It wouldn't take a genius that Chris would probably have told them to keep an eye out for Allison in case of any harm and fortunately for them, they never acted suspicious around the clearly oblivious girl. 

"They are probably around the school." Tristan said after stopping their dance as the music ended. 

Malia had a pensive expression on her face at that but she asked nonetheless. "What are you going to do?"

Tristan thought about it for a bit and answered. "While we're long past the point of passively reacting to their clearly out of hand yet reasonable actions, I don't think anyone would appreciate a bloodbath on the night of a winter formal."

It was frustrating for Tristan to be this restrained in his actions but thankfully he was from a pack where restraint was the first thing they learned. Heck, their learning of the principle of restraint never ended. 

"That and you'd be painting a large target on your back, worst of all if they identify you as a vampire." Malia added her major point of concern. "It's better they are going for the betas, which means Derek too, but…"

"It'll suck if they catch either one of the two idiots and get a head start on us for their hunt." Tristan concluded. His only worries was Scott and Jackson blabbing all what they knew to the Hunters upon capture since both of them were clearly omegas as Derek was yet to create any lasting or meaningful bind with them. 

"So what do we do?" Malia asked as they slowly made their way towards where Allison was seated with a clearly out of breath Boyd. 

"Look for Scott and Jackson."

"Why?"

"To know if they are already caught and the possibility of us being in danger, or.."

"Or?"

"Kill them if there are no other options." 

Though she always knew, this was a reminder to Malia just how different Tristan was from the others. While the wolves of the Buddhist pack practiced self development and abstained from the troubles around them, seeking a peaceful resolution if ever faced with one, Tristan was one who valued the effectiveness of the kill. 

The only good enemy was a dead enemy. 

As far as he was concerned, Jackson and Scott were loose ends, Scott since day one, and being the liability they were and the state of the Argent's hatred filled vendetta, they were not afraid to implicate any supernatural they found. 

Even Satomi herself had said that killing Kate was bound to spark a confrontation between the Alpha and the entire Argent Family and no pack alone could deal with that. Not hers, and definitely not Derek's. 

It was better they provide the Argents with a dead end than risk being found out about them, especially with Gerard coming, and implicate their whole pack. 

"I see."

"Hey guys, nice dance there." Boyd spoke as they got to their corner.

"Thanks, but I-" 

"Tristan, can I talk to you?" Allison asked nervously but Tristan shook his head apologetically. "I'm quite busy right now, I'm sorry. Coach needs me for whatever reasons. Maybe later after I'm back?" He said. 

"Uhm, sure."

Not thinking much about what Allison wanted to talk to him about, Tristan walked away with urgency in his steps as he had to look for Scott or Jackson. 

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