***STILES***

It may not be much of a secret that I envy Scott and Derek and the others for being werewolves. But today, I’m also reminded that sometimes, being one of the few humans (well, only human now, with Allison having turned) in our little circle of friends can have its perks.

Like being the only one able to open the waist-high gate leading behind Deaton’s desk. Derek and Skylar can’t touch it because it’s made of mountain ash, which leaves it up to me. Finally, something useful for me to do.

“Get in!” Derek yells, pointing at the door to the exam room as soon as we’re all behind the front desk.

We don’t get in there a second too soon. Just as Skylar and I run through that door, the glass front door is broken open by the super-sized wolf. Derek growls at him - or is it “them?” Considering there’s two people in that one body, I really have no idea what’s the proper pronoun to use here.

As we get into the exam room, I look around wildly, half-expecting to spot Scott and Allison. But they’re not here. Where they are, I have no idea. I want to call them up and ask, but right now I’m a little busy trying to help Derek and Skylar barricade the door. Here, though, is a moment when being human sucks. Derek and Skylar, being supernaturally enhanced, don’t have to make as much of an effort to move Deaton’s box of weapons in front of the door. If not for them doing a huge chunk of the work, I probably wouldn’t be able to push it more than an inch. At best.

The super-wolf starts pounding on the door, but the box doesn’t budge. It shakes like there’s a constant small earthquake going on, but otherwise stays firmly in place. Which seems like a good sign - except that’s not the only way into the room. Skylar follows my line of sight to the back door and whispers, “How long until those two split up and try to pincer us?”

“Unless they got some brains to balance out their way-too-much brawn,” I say, gesturing at the box as it continues to shake with the force of the super-wolf’s attacks, “I bet it’ll be a long time before they think of that.”

The box shakes even more violently, prompting Derek to slam his body against it to help keep it in place. “I don’t wanna take a chance on that,” Derek says. “We need to get out of here, ASAP.” He looks around and then asks, “Where’s the key to this thing? We need more weapons.”

“Scott knows where it is,” I say, racking my brains and trying to remember where he first got it. “Wait a minute...dammit, he’s got the key. Should I call him?”

“No, I’ll handle this,” Skylar says. She takes a pin out of her hair and starts picking the lock with it.

“Do we wanna know where you learned to pick locks?” I ask.

“Let’s just say it involves being locked in a coffin and leave it at that,” Skylar says, furiously working on the lock. “And don’t you dare start making coffin jokes.”

“Wasn’t gonna start making coffin jokes,” I say. “There’s a time and a place for lame-ass puns, and this isn’t it!”

“Finally, someone’s abandoning their naturally sarcastic instincts!” Derek says, shoving the box closer to the door with his back. “Sorry,” he adds to Skylar, whose lock-picking has just been rudely interrupted by the movement of the box.

Skylar spares a moment to blow some hair out of her face, then gnashes her teeth at Derek - her fangs are visible for a split second - before resuming her attack on the lock.

“I wouldn’t have thought you’d ever be happy for someone abandoning their instincts,” I say to Derek. He’s too focused on holding the box in place to say anything, but he does let out a low, menacing growl. The super-wolf outside must hear it and not like it, because it starts slamming on the door even harder, as if that were even possible. How the door’s hinges haven’t broken off by now, I have no idea.

Skylar then pops the lock open, allowing me to look into the box with her. The weapons have all fallen out of place, but I can pick out a few good ones that she and Derek can use - for example, a silver knife, and a gun with silver bullets attached. I’ve not heard too much about whether or not werewolves are truly vulnerable to silver, but Skylar and Derek both say that they are.

“It’s not as bad as mountain ash, or wolfsbane,” Derek says. “So there’s not really as much of a big deal to be made about it. But if you’re a werewolf, you definitely don’t want silver getting into your bloodstream.”

He takes the knife - Skylar insists on getting the gun, claiming that she’s a real sharpshooter. “Hopefully we’ll get out of this mess before you gotta prove it to us,” I say as I grab the ash stake. There’s no use in me being unarmed.

“Yeah, hopef-” Skylar begins. Then she and Derek both stiffen and turn to look at the back door. A split second later, I see the doorknob rattling, then the door starting to open. Cursing under my breath, I raise my stake, ready to charge whatever’s coming in-

“Whoa, dude, stop!” It’s Scott, with Allison right behind him. He’s got his hands in the air, and his wolf face on - but that vanishes pretty quickly when he sees me lower the stake. “What’s going on?” he asks.

“You came at just the right time,” I say, jerking my thumb at the still-shuddering door. “Those twins you saw at Derek’s old place? That’s them. Or, more accurately, him.”

“What do you mean?” Allison asks, blinking in confusion.

“I’d open the door to show you, but then he’d attack us,” Derek says. “And I don’t think our numbers advantage is gonna hold very long against this big guy.”

To everyone’s surprise, the door stops shaking. “That’ll be Jackson and Isaac,” Scott says. “We tried to come in through the front at first, but then we saw the big guy, and they volunteered to distract him while we went in the back to get you guys.”

“Actually,” Allison says, “it was more like Jackson volunteered, and dragged Isaac along with him.”

“I’m guessing none of you thought to bring a car?” I ask. “‘Cause Derek’s...I’m not sure it’s even drivable anymore, after the beating these guys did to it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Derek says. “Of course it’s drivable.” He climbs onto the box and presses his ear to the door. “And it sounds like there’s nobody there. Think we can risk it?”

The back door opens, and Isaac runs in, panting and dripping with sweat. “Hey, guys,” he says with an awkward wave. “I’d run if I were you - there’s an angry Alpha on my ass.”

He doesn’t need to tell us twice. Derek and Scott move the box away from the door (Skylar wants to help, but when Scott gently pushes her aside, she accepts it without protest). Then I jump through it and hold the gate open for the others. From there, we race up to the remains of Derek’s SUV. All the windows are shattered, and most of the side panels have been severely dented. At least one door won’t even open.

“Drivable, huh?” I say, demonstrating how the driver’s-side rear door is now completely stuck. “Sure. Let’s go with that.”

“Not now, Stiles,” Derek grumbles. He also struggles a bit with the driver’s door, but eventually pulls that open as well. “Keys! Stiles, give me the keys!”

“He’s coming!” Skylar yells, raising her gun and pointing it at the front door. Luckily, the Alpha - he’s split off from his twin, so he’s just standing there all on his own like a werewolf calendar model - can’t get through the mountain ash gate without burning his hand on contact.

Unluckily, he’s smart enough to know to just run back around through the back door.

I toss Derek the keys, and he tries to start the car. As I expect, though, the engine does nothing more than make a few rough noises, completely refusing to turn over.

“There’s no time for that!” Isaac yells. “He’s coming around the other side!”

“Jesus, you think?” I say.

“This way!” Allison yells, pointing up the street.

We start running, but I’m not sure where we’re supposed to be going. The only place in that direction that I can think of is the old Hale house. Although now that the twin Alphas have at least temporarily abandoned it, we could probably hole up there and have a standoff against them. Yeah, that’s totally the best way to spend a nice summer day.

“Hey, guys, wait up!” Jackson runs out from behind Deaton’s building to join us. He’s also being followed by an Alpha twin. The twins join each other, standing side by side, then put their arms over each other’s shoulders, clearly about to become the super-wolf again.

Except they’re stopped by another creature who runs up behind them and scratches them both on their exposed backs. At first, I think our savior is another werewolf, but then I see his face. He’s not a wolf - his features don’t look like those of Scott and Derek when they’re shifted. They actually look a little more feline. Especially with the little pointed tufts of fur on his ears. They make him look oddly cute - until he hisses at them, catlike, then starts brandishing his razor-sharp claws in the twins’ faces.

They get the message and bolt before he can turn their pretty-boy features into so much meatloaf.

Then the were-cat, or whatever he is, turns around and shifts back to human. He looks around at us all. Then, when he sees Skylar, he raises his thick eyebrows and says, in a very similar accent to hers, “You’re welcome, sister.”

“We could have taken care of this without you, Hunter,” Skylar says acidly. “And what the hell are you doing here anyway?”

“Same as you, of course,” Hunter says, brushing imaginary dust off his shoulder. “I’m here to investigate the bloody Alpha Pack.”

“You’re underage, and you’re not even in the coven,” Skylar says. “Why would they send you to do my job?”

Hunter snickers. “Okay, consider my bluff called. I was bored of being shut up in my room all day long, so I ran off. Shoot me.” He looks around to everyone else. “How do you do, ladies and blokes? I’m Hunter Renard. As you no doubt saw before, I’m a werelynx - and my sister’s a vampire. Don’t ask. Also, I’m seventeen and single - not a combination I ever wanted to be, but there you go.” I see him check out several of the werewolves - most noticeably, Allison and Jackson. He barely gives me a second glance, though. What, I don’t fall on his radar? I’m offended.

“Can I ask why the hell we’re all standing around out here in broad daylight?” I ask.

“Good point,” Hunter says. “Can’t let my dear sweet sister get sizzled, can we? I do have a place where we can all hole up.”

Derek purses his lips. “Wherever it is, let’s just get there before those goddamn twins come back.”

Hunter claps his hands. “Awesome!” he says in an atrocious American accent. “Right this way, everybody.” He walks back towards Deaton’s office, then stops. “Hold on, I have to get my bearings...all right, this way.” He keeps on going in that same direction.

“Why are we following the twins?” Scott asks.

“I assure you, it’s merely a coincidence,” Hunter says. “And I’m sure they can’t read minds like I can, so they have no idea we’re coming this way too.”

“You can read minds?” Jackson asks.

If you can hear this, I think, prepare to have your brain assaulted. I imagine my brain is a pair of iPod speakers cranked up to maximum volume while playing the loud guitar intro to Jack White’s “Sixteen Saltines.”

“Ouch,” Hunter says, calmly putting his hands over his ears. “No need to be so rude, Stiles.”

“How do you know my name?”

“Do I really have to say it? Ah, here we are,” Hunter says, stopping in front of a building looming up close. It’s the warehouse where Derek lives now.

Derek knits his eyebrows at Hunter. “Okay, you know where I live. Good for you. But I never said you could stay here, did I?”

“You didn’t,” Hunter says. “She did.” He points to his sister.

“I’d attack you right now if I could,” Skylar hisses. “But I have to avoid the bloody sun.”

Hunter opens the door. “I’ve told you a thousand times, Sky - let yourself turn into a werelynx. Or whatever were-thing you are. I bet you’d be a wererabbit. All cute and cuddly and fluffy and-”

“How’s this for a wererabbit?” Skylar jumps on Hunter, taking him by surprise and making him apparently forget he’s half a foot taller and maybe seventy pounds heavier. Either that, or he just wants to fall to the ground and take her down with him.

Finally, he wriggles out of her grasp - she’s forced to retreat to the nearest spot of shade as her exposed hands quickly start to turn red - and making a flourishing gesture at the open door. “Come on in,” he says, standing back to let us pass.