Derek cocked his head, nostrils flaring slightly as he stood up. Scott stood as well, motioning for the others to remain seated but alert. Locking eyes with the Hale, the two alphas moved smoothly towards the front door. Derek rested his hand lightly on the door handle, as Scott nodded once. Whipping the door open, he froze, taking a step backwards. Scott peered over his shoulder at the caramel-haired girl standing in front of him. One of her hands fingered the straps on her black backpack, hair pulled back in a loose ponytail.

"Derek?" The older alpha snapped his mouth shut, reaching out a hand towards the seventeen-year old.

"Sabrina?" She grinned, flashing pointed, elongated canines and red eyes.

"Hey, cousin."

Derek walked her into the dining room, one arm wrapped around her shoulders as Scott walked on her other side. Cora stood up abruptly, chair falling down behind her as she scrabbled backwards.

"Dude, what's going on?" asked Stiles, head turning from Sabrina to Derek to Scott. "Who's she?" Malia inhaled deeply, cocking her head and locking gazes with Sabrina, who smiled neutrally.

"My cousin," said Derek, voice wavering on the last syllable, "Sabrina."

"I've never seen her in my life," said Lydia, waving her hand, "She wasn't on the Deadpool, so she can't be too important." Feeling his cousin's body stiffen under his arm, Derek glared at Lydia.

"I'm gonna go upstairs," she muttered in Derek's ear. Cora walked slowly around the table, locking arms with her.

"I haven't seen you in forever," she breathed, "It's been, what, ten years?" Sabrina smiled ruefully.

"A lot happened. Too much."

"Spill," responded Cora as the two walked out of the room upstairs.

"What is she?" asked Scott, leaning his hands on the table, "She isn't a werewolf, werecoyote, or werejaguar."

"Definitely not a banshee," added Lydia, letting out a breath of relief.

"Her scent's foreign," mused Malia as Stiles raised an eyebrow. Liam furrowed his brow.

"So's her accent. It's faint, but it's there."

"It's South African," said Derek, "Her family moved there when she was seven after her father became suspicious of the Argents." Allison shifted uncomfortably as Kira nudged her encouragingly.

"Where's her family?" asked the kitsune, "She couldn't have come here herself." Derek sighed.

"She must have. Her family's dead. A lamia."

"Lamia?" asked Scott, leaning forward.

"Greek demon woman. Torso of a woman, body of a snake," sighed Lydia, examining her manicure. "What? I read."

"Bitten or born?" asked Allison, "She'd be more dangerous if she was-"

"Bitten. Her family was normal. No trace of the werewolf gene."

"Is that possible?" asked Stiles, "This is a hereditary thing."

"Her Hale father received the recessive, non-werewolf trait. His wife was human, and so were their children."

"What do we do with her?" asked Kira, "Can she fight?"

"Take her to school," said Derek grimly, "And wait."

Sabrina blinked awake to see Derek shaking her shoulders. Sitting up, she rubbed her eyes for a second until she was fully alert.

"What are you doing?"

"Waking you up for school," he growled, bags under his eyes, "This isn't fun for me either."

"I've already passed school," she replied matter-of-factly, "And college. Skipped a few grades after the bite."

"Oh really?" retorted Derek, "What South African college did you go to?"

"I went to Stanford. Didn't come here first." He rolled his eyes, standing up.

"You need to get out of the house. Just sign up for three classes. Do something to stay in shape."

"Thanks, Dad," she grinned, blinking innocently. He groaned. "What's for breakfast?"

"You'll have to get it yourself."

"What?"

"Grab something before school starts. There's a Starbucks on the main road-"

"I didn't drive here, Derek." He turned towards her. "I ran."

"She can come with me," interrupted Cora, poking her head through the doorway, "I can drive." Sabrina smiled gratefully at her cousin. "We'll leave in twenty?"

"Deal." Derek walked out of the room, letting Cora in. "Do people at Beacon Hills dress athletic, preppy, or casual?"

"Depends on who you hang out with. I'd go preppy-casual," she added. "What do you have?" Pulling out a red flannel, tube top, dark jeans, and leather combat boots, Sabrina grinned.

"I literally have three outfits."

"Shopping after school?" Sabrina pulled out a credit card.

"Deal."

Fifteen minutes later, she slid into Cora's car, hair brushed and shining. Tucking her necklace into her shirt before Cora could see, she buckled her seatbelt, and Cora started her car.

"What's your schedule?"

"I emailed the principal this morning. I have Chemistry with Stiles and Scott, Photography with Liam, AP English with Allison, and AP US History, BC Calc, and AP Physics with Lydia, and AP Economics with Stiles and Lydia." Cora's eyes widened.

"Jeez, Sabs, Derek told me you were smart, but I didn't know you were the Einstein." She shrugged.

"It's just the bite. I'd be a moron without it."

"What are you?" Cora blushed, "Sorry, that came out wrong. I meant: who bit you?"

"I was...kept by a werecheetah after the lamia found my father. Long story short, he bit me, I broke out and ran."

"Ran? To California?" Sabrina grinned.

"Just like Jesus. No, I took a plane."

"How'd you get a ticket?"

"I ran."

"Through security?"

"Yep. Right past them. Right past the boarding pass people, too. Same thing at SFO."

"You're insane," laughed Cora.

"I prefer instinctive in relation to self-preservation," she grinned, "Or lucky."