Chapter Two

Peter Hale hated Beacon Hills.

The town was a cesspool of bad memories and failure, weighing on his conscious like an anvil. Just thinking of it made him feel like he was drowning on dry land, and if he had his way, he'd have never gone back.

At least, that's what he thought at first.

The whispers of his failed Beta's incompetence made his hackles rise, the Hale in him bristling at such a weak Alpha heading his ancestral home.

His nephew, either ignorant or impassive toward the rumors, never spoke on it and he wanted to sneer at the idiot. Didn't the pup realize that if another pack took Beacon Hills they would truly be omegas. Only the fact that their family's blood was so tied to the Nemeton and the land itself had saved them so far, from having to find an Alpha to head their reluctant pack of two. He kept his ear to the ground, hoping someone (Stiles) in McCall's pack would realize that the "True Alpha's" bullshit approach wasn't working.

When the whispers began to change, he knew someone had.

He knew exactly who it was too.

To be honest, he'd expected to hear whispers of a slim man running around in a red hoodie, swinging a baseball bat. To hear about cold topaz eyes that gleamed like whiskey in the moonlight.

That's not even close to what reality handed him.

Violet eyes that spoke of detached amusement, pale lips that seemed perpetually curled into a sinister parody of happiness, and a little black fox that left death in its wake.

It was Stiles. Had to be...although he wasn't quite sure how.

Last, he'd seen the boy, the nogitsune was gone, as was its power. While it was possible that Stiles' magic was mimicking the kitsune's power, he had a feeling that it was something else entirely.

It was only this curiosity that kept him from protesting too heavily when Derek announced that they were returning to Beacon Hills.

It was only once he was once again in the loft with McCall and his pack of dimwits that he started to regret it.

Especially because said group of dimwits was sans a Stiles.

Without his favorite human, the meeting seemed to be dragging on, petty glares being sent his way by everyone but the kitsune girl and the new Beta child. Both watched him, wary of everyone else's reaction to his presence, but he ignored them all, tuning out the farce of a meeting until Derek finally asked the question, he'd refrained from asking.

"Where's Stiles? I thought you two were attached at the hip."

The elder Beta barely refrained from snorting. Obviously, his nephew hadn't been paying as much attention to their interactions as Peter had. Otherwise, the pup would know that statement was pure bullshit.

Scott frowned at him. "Stiles is working. He only comes to pack meetings on the weekends."

Peter raised an eyebrow. Stiles had a job? Considering the amount of threats, he was said to have taken down, it was impressive he would be able to maintain one so long. Even Talia had struggled to maintain her job in the human world while balancing pack matters. It had been the reason for her starting her own business.

Derek scowled at the Alpha's words. "Pack meetings are important."

"So is work." His uncle interjected. "Or have you forgotten the pack meetings your father and I used to miss due to our jobs? Or the meetings your mother used to postpone because she couldn't leave the office."

The younger Hale glared at him but didn't dispute his point, while McCall's puppies sent him a strange look.

He smirked at them, sneering inwardly as they looked away from him, before relaxing back in his seat.

Might as well get comfortable ignoring the little Alpha wannabe...and the smidgen of disappointment he felt about his favorite human's absence.

*/*

The three weekly pack meets following their return passed in much the same fashion as the first.

Stiles was absent for each one and he noticed with alarming clarity that Scott nor any of the others seemed overly concerned about that fact. In fact, it seemed to be just the opposite.

They were relieved by his absence.

What the hell happened while they were gone?

Derek, to Peter's everlasting shock, seemed just as perturbed by the human's absence and McCall's attitude toward it. Even worse, the teen's window was lined with a mixture of mountain ash and mistletoe, making it impossible to visit him.

Not that they would've been able to anyways.

Despite being the most well-known teenager in town, Stiles had an admirable ability to disappear. Beyond brief glimpses of him at school or entering his home, they'd barely seen the spastic boy.

It was...disturbing.

Strangely enough, a month passed following the Hale's return before Stiles came to meeting.

A new monster of the week had cropped up just days before the puppies were due back for school, because of course it had. They'd been lucky with the brief respite they'd been granted.

A Lamia, of all things, was killing hikers in the preserve and draining their bodies of blood. So far, it had only killed two people, but the true alpha was up in arms about it, especially when Peter suggested that they kill it.

He'd been arguing the merits of killing the creature when Stiles waltzed in the loft carrying two different notebooks, and what had to bee and entire ream of printer paper, the top sheet cover in black ink and the messy red scrawl of Stiles' favorite pen.

Ozone clung to his scent, mixing eagerly with the lavender and rain scent and replacing the chemical smell of the Adderall he remembered the boy having to take before they left.

At his entrance, the entire room fell silent, and Peter found himself mesmerized as he took in the changes the teen had undergone in his absence.

A dark blue turtleneck clung to his slim frame, the long sleeves cover his arms and wrists. Over it was a short sleeved green and black plaid over shirt, giving way to form fitting black jeans, and bright green converses. His skin was pale, darker than the deathly state of the nogitsune, but not quite the warm peach of before, settling on a moonlit ivory that stood in stark contrast to the constellation of beauty marks dotting his face.

Full pink lips curled into an amused smirk at their silence, honey brown eyes surveying them all keenly.

Peter had never wanted to kiss someone as much as he did in that moment.

Swallowing thickly as Derek sent him a confused (and disgusted) look, he put on his best smirk.

"Stiles," He purred. "We haven't seen you at any of the pack meetings. One would think you're avoiding us."

His human didn't flail or yell at him for being a "creeper", just chuckled, a low throaty sound that made the wolf in him sit up and take notice.

"Well Peter, there comes a time in a man's life when he must work for a living. Being a nearly undefeated lawyer, I'm sure you understand."

Stiles' voice had deepened, carrying a slight undertone of the nogitsune dangerous lilt.

Interesting.

"However," the teen continued, turning to McCall. "I have everything I could find on Lamia right here. It needs to be killed with a knife blessed by a priest. The higher up the priest the stronger the blessing on the blade will be. Or, if you don't have a knife, it can be killed by covering it in rosemary and salt and setting it on fire. Just in case, I made Molotov cocktails with rosemary and salt in them." He paused, and something predatory flashed in his eyes, when Scott opened his mouth to protest killing them.

"You can trap them by covering a silver chain in holy oil, salt, and rosemary." It was delivered in an almost reluctant tone and Scott sighed.

"We don't kill people, Stiles." He said, and Stiles gave that detached smile full of amusement again.

"Okay."

Peter blinked, and Derek frowned. "Okay? Stiles, we need to kill this thing." Derek argued, and Peter's failed Beta scowled at them.

"My way has been working just fine without you!" He snapped. "We don't kill people! I give them a choice and they leave and never come back! Wasn't it you that said we don't have to be killers?"

Peter sighed, placing a hand on his nephew's arm. The naive boy wasn't gonna change his mind, but Peter knew, especially when he saw Stiles' smile widen.

Those Lamia weren't going to leave Beacon Hills alive.

TBC...