Margaritas and Sweaty Shirtless Men

                                    

                                          
Daire wasn't quite sure how she ended up in her current situation. Derek went running off, leaving Boyd to carry Erika and Isaac to their most likely dank and seriously gross secret layer. Then Allison was ushering away a very confused Lydia. Next thing Daire knows she and the two bozo's are outside The Jungle.  It looked like a club, or bar? Whatever it was, there was a long line of people waiting to get in, standing behind a red velvet rope. Daire doubted the bouncers were going to let in a bunch of sixteen year olds. 
                          
Stiles parked his Jeep up the street but still in sight of the building. Scott was already standing off to the side, Daire sighed and tapped him on the shoulder.
                          
"You find him yet?" she asked.
                          
And by him, Daire was referring to a Mr. Jackass Whitemore. Or in his current condition, a giant lizard. Though why a giant lizard would be at a club was beyond her.
                          
"Lost him," Scott sighed.
                          
"You couldn't catch a scent?" Stiles asked.
                          
"I don't think he has one," Scott replied. 
                          
"Well do you have any clue where he could be going?" Stiles questioned.
                          
"To kill someone," Scott deadpanned.

                          
"Ah," Stiles let out sarcastically. " That explains the claws and the fangs and all that. Good, makes perfect sense now."
                          
Daire and Scott just stared at him.
                          
"What? Come on, I'm a hundred and forty seven pounds of pale skin and fragile bone. Sarcasm is my only defense."
                          
Daire smacked him upside the head, "Quit complaining, drama queen." 
                          
"Just help me find it!" Scott cried, looking at his friends.
                          
Daire sighed, " It's not an it.  He's a Jackson, just a bit scalier and does that tongue thing, ya know?" she attempted to impersonate a snake tongue.
                          
Scott groaned, "I know, I know."
                          
"Yeah, does he know that? Did anyone see him back at your house?"
                          
Scott had a worried expression. "I-I, I don't think so. But he already passed Derek's test!"
                          
"Yeah, so we just need to figure out how he did that!" Daire stressed, "Because it doesn't make sense how Lydia and I are immune but Jackass got stuck paralyzed in front of Derek." 
                          
"Maybe it's like an either or thing," Stiles mused. "You said that a snake can't be poisoned by it's own venom right? When's the kanima not the kanima?"
                          
"When he's Jackson," Scott and Daire answered.
                          
Stiles looked like he was about to nod before his attention was drawn elsewhere. He pointed up towards the rood and let out a low sound of distress. "Uh guys, do you see that?"
                          
Daire looked up in time to see a large reptilian tail slithering into a break in the boards up top. Guess Scott didn't actually lose Jackson.
                          
"He's inside," Daire muttered. "He's gonna kill people, we have to get him out of here."
                          
Scott's face dropped instantly as he stared off into the distance. "Not people, person. I know who he's after."
                          
"Wait, what? How? Did you smell something?" Stile exclaimed.
                          
Scott nodded as Daire took a whiff of the air.
                          
"Armani"
                          
☾

                          
After Scott ripped the handle of the door at the back of the club, they were in. Though it might have been better if Daire stayed outside.
                          
There were disco balls reflecting light off everything, the stench of alcohol was floating through the air, strobe lights flashing. People huddled on the dance floor, dancing their asses off.