'This is where Derek lives?' I asked, staring critically at the building.

'I guess,' Scott shrugged, 'it's not like his family's house is exactly livable.'

We reached two metal doors and Scott went first, pushing through them into the room. Derek was already there, crouched over a steel table inspecting a map of the bank under the light of a desk lamp. An older man also sat on the bottom of a spiraling set of stairs.

'What's he doing here?' Stiles demanded, jabbing his index finger accusingly at the stranger.

The man cocked his head curiously, as if deciding what to do with this pesky teenager.

'I live here,' he replied reasonably.

Stiles snorted, 'I thought you said you lived in an apartment downtown'.

The stranger shrugged.

'I like to alternate,' he replied easily.

I frowned slightly.

'Wait,' I said slowly, pointing at the stranger, 'you're Derek's uncle?'

Peter rolled his eyes.

'And you must be the unusual Percy Jackson I've been hearing about,' he drawled.

I snorted.

'Says the guy who died and came back to life,' I muttered.

With his werewolf hearing, there was no way that Peter couldn't have heard what I said. Thankfully, he decided to ignore it and let Stiles brief us. The Alpha waved us over to the table and threw Stiles a red marker.

'Tell us what you found,' he ordered.

We crowded around the table, Stiles in the middle as he talked us through what his dad had recounted.

'Ok, see this?' he tapped the back of the marker onto a section of the map, 'this is how they got in – it's a rooftop air conditioning vent. It leads down inside into to the wall of the vault, which is here,' he circled the square on the map that represented the vent opening.

'One of the robbers was lowered down into this shaft,' he pointed with the marker, 'now, that space is so small it took them about twelve hours to drill into that wall – which is stone by the way. Then, throughout the rest of the night they siphoned the cash up to the guys back on the roof through that one little shaft on the wall – boom!' he wacked the inked box that represented the shaft with the back of the marker.

'Can we fit in there?' Scott asked.

'Yes we can but very, very barely,' Stiles confirmed, 'and they also patched the wall obviously so we're going to need a drill of some kind. I'm thinking maybe a diamond bit-.'

'-forget the drill,' Derek interrupted.

Stiles turned to him.

'Sorry?' he asked.

'If I go in first, how much space do I have?' Derek interrogated.

Stiles looked down at the map then turned back to Derek, his fingers drumming across the table.

'What are–what do you think you're going to do Derek? Are you going to punch through the wall?' Stiles asked sardonically.

Derek stood up straighter and folded his arms.

'Yes, Stiles I'm going to punch through the wall,' he answered, a synthetic smile plastered on his face.

'Ok, ok big guy let's see it – let's see that fist,' Stiles said mockingly, he motioned upwards to indicate that Derek do as he asked, 'big ol' fist. Make it, c'mon. Get it out there, don't be scared.'

I shifted uncomfortably, wondering whether Stiles knew he was approaching the danger zone. Derek raised his fist, his face set in a hardened expression of boredom.

'Big bad wolf? Yeaaah, look at that. Ok, see this?' Stiles grabbed Derek's fist and held it close to the palm of his other hand, 'that's maybe three inches of room to gather enough force to punch through solid–argh!'

Unimpressed, Derek shot his fist forward into Stiles palm with enough force to push the teenager off his feet. Stiles collapsed against the table, clutching his injured hand next to his chest, gasping from the pain.

'Ah-argh!' Stiles staggered away from the table, his voice rising in octave, 'he can do it!' he squeaked.

'I'll get through the wall,' Derek began conversationally us as if nothing had happened, 'who's following me down?'

Silence. Derek looked at his Uncle.

'Don't look at me,' Peter said innocently, 'I'm not up to fighting speed yet and honestly, with Isaac out of commission you're not looking at very good odds for yourself.'

'So I'm suppose to just let them die?' Derek accused.

'Well, one's already dead,' Peter reminded him helpfully.

'We don't know that,' Derek replied firmly.

'Do I have to remind you what we're up against here?' Peter asked, 'a pack of Alphas.'

Stiles returned to stand by the table; he rubbed his hand and glared accusingly at Derek.

'All of them, killers,' Peter continued, 'and if that's not enough to scare your testicles back into your stomach then try to remember that two of them combine one body to form one giant Alpha.'

'What?' I spluttered.

Scott shrugged miserably and Peter ignored my minor outburst.

'I'm sure Erica and Boyd are sweet kids and they're going to be missed,' he murmured innocently to the ceiling.

'Can someone kill him again, please?' Stiles asked to no one in particular.

Peter raised his eyebrow critically at the teenager and then switched his gaze back to his nephew.

'Derek? Seriously?' he said, 'not worth the risk.'

Then he leaned back on the step he was sitting on and folded his arms, his little speech finished. Derek glanced over at Scott.

'What about you?' he asked.

Stiles shrugged.

'Yeah, you want me to come-' he began.

'-not you,' Derek interrupted impatiently.

'Scott,' Stiles guessed, nodding and jabbed his thumb at the teenager standing behind him.

'I don't know about Erica,' Scott said quietly, 'but if Boyd's still alive we have to do something.

He glanced over at Peter who rolled his eyes.

'We have to try,' Scott insisted.

'You're odds of survival are practically zero,' Peter insisted, 'it's the two of you against five Alphas.'

'I can come,' I offered.

Peter raised his eyebrow.

'What?' I protested, 'you need more man power right?'

'Supernatural, you mean,' Stiles corrected.

Derek was nodding slowly.

'Deucalion doesn't know about demigods yet. If you show him what you can do it'll be like sticking a giant target on your head,' Scott warned.

'Maybe,' I agreed, 'but I've dealt with worse people and you never know; one guy might be the difference between Derek and Scott getting out alive or dead.'

'Ok,' Derek decided, 'the three of us will break in – tonight, before the full moon.'


The alleyway echoed with the muffled sound of traffic far away. There were piles of trash lining the brick walls but surprisingly it didn't reek as much as I'd thought it would. Scott and I followed Derek down the alley until he stopped under a steel ladder. He craned his neck up, judging the height between the ground and its bottom rung before glancing at Scott in time to notice his doubtful expression.

'What?' Derek demanded.

'Its just that something I can't get out of my head,' Scott said vaguely.

'The moon's rising Scott, what is it? Derek asked irritably.

I shifted my weight to my other weight, partly from ADHD and partly because Derek's agitated state was making me nervous. Even though the Alpha was mortal he could get pretty damn scary when he got angry.

'Risk and reward,' Scott replied, turning his head towards Derek.

'Don't remind me – I hate economics, now,' I groaned, 'stupid risk landed me the pop quiz and an essay.'

Derek ignored me like he did everyone else.

'Which means what?' he pestered Scott impatiently.

'We're not measuring the risk with enough information, we don't know enough,' Scott explained.

'We know time's running out.'

'Yeah but think about it – they put the triskelion door in four months ago. What have they been doing all this time? Why wait till now?'

'We don't have the time to figure out every little detail.'

'What if this detail, is the reason why they waited? What if it's the most important one?' Scott insisted.

'He's right you know. Trust me, when you've gotten the risk the reward doesn't seem so enticing,' I added.

Derek looked back and forth at us in annoyance.

'Then we do nothing,' he finally said, 'and Boyd and Erica are dead. I know what I'm risking – my life, for theirs.'

And with that, he turned his back on us and set his sights on the ladder. Utilizing the top of a trash container as a springboard, he leapt into the air and grabbed a metal frame barring a window beside the ladder. Using the bar as leverage, he pushed himself off and onto the ladder. Safely perched, he twisted his head around to look at Scott and I on the ground below him.

'I won't blame you if you don't follow me,' he said.

I didn't know if he was talking to Scott, or me, or both of us but before I could ask Derek turned his head skywards once more and began climbing up the ladder.

Scott watched the Alpha until he was halfway up the ladder and the dropped his gaze back down. He met my questioning gaze and shrugged. I rolled my eyes.

'Great, it's times like this I wish I had superhuman strength,' I muttered.

Scott grinned.

'I could always throw you into the air?' he suggested

I snorted.

'Over my dead body,' I replied, 'don't worry, I'll find another way in.'

Scott nodded.

'Be careful,' he warned before leaping into the air in similar fashion to Derek's stunt.


'How convenient,' I mused as I regarded the front door to Beacon Hills First National Bank.

The rusted metal handles were constricted by black chains, which congregated into an old fashioned padlock. Overall, it was an effective method for keeping out trespassers – or at least it would've been if the chain links hadn't been forcibly broken.

If the Alpha pack really was using this abandoned bank to imprison Boyd and Erica it wouldn't be beyond them to enter through the front door. What was curious about the obvious break-in however was that the chains appeared to have been cut by a man made tool and not a set of werewolf claws. From what I knew from spending all that time with the Beacon Hill's pack, werewolves loved using their claws for everything – so who had broken into the bank if not the Alpha pack?

I sighed. Beggars couldn't be choosers. It was either this or seeing if it was possible to propel myself into the air with a jet of water and grab the ladder before I plummeted into a garbage container.