"I guess we better warn the others that Adam has a silver ring."

"No kidding, Stiles." Scott winced, examining the burn on his hand.

Stiles wrinkled his nose, "That looks bad…"

"Yeah, he had a tight grip." Scott muttered, "I better text Isaac, let him know he needs to bandage his hand or something if Mr. Cheesehead is going to keep shaking hands…"

Neither was paying attention to the lecture of their class (then again, it was Finstock, there probably wasn't much learning happening). Stiles was quickly writing down what little he knew about Adam, "We should probably check with Allison, maybe she can check the family Bestiary and see if Adam is a creepy crawly."

"Aren't you jumping the gun a bit, Stiles?" Scott shook his head, "Just because he has a silver ring doesn't mean he's the devil incarnate."

"Maybe not, but he might be, with the way our luck is going." Stiles scoffed, "Maybe he's part of a hunter clan. Allison could ask her dad to see if he knows about the other clans, right?"

Scott didn't answer, mainly because Stiles had a point. The Argents couldn't be the only hunters in existence, could they? And even if they were, surely there were bound to be more branches of the family. Of course, that meant there was no telling just how many hunters were lurking in the world…and not all of them would be as forgiving as Chris Argent.

"I don't know if I like the sound of that…" He mumbled, jotting down a few notes from what was on Finstock's powerpoint. "The last thing we need is another Gerard…"

"No kidding, which is why we need to be sure."

"Why does this stuff keep happening to us?"

"Probably because we're the only ones who can deal with it…or at least fake it until we figure it out."

By the time lunch rolled around, Adam was aware of the fact there were at least two werewolves in Beacon Hills. Chances were there were more, if there was an actual pack. But considering the fact that even Michael said it wasn't simple, there was no telling what might lay in store for them.

Well, at least this hunt wouldn't be boring. Which, honestly, Adam was beginning to feel a bit of a rut. He knew that he and Michael were meant to be on some sort of quest, but neither of them knew exactly what they were looking for.

And Adam hated taking tests without knowing what to study.

Though, learning the Hunter lifestyle was doing quite a bit to keep him occupied (and Adam could honestly say that he had never been in better shape). And while Adam had wanted to become a doctor, at least being a Hunter also served to save lives.

As Adam made his way into the crowded cafeteria, he couldn't help but wonder just how the teenage werewolf played into the violent deaths of Beacon Hills (as well as who else might be involved). Honestly, Adam would hate to have to kill a bunch of teenagers, but if they were a threat to humanity…well, there would simply be nothing for it.

It was easy to spy Stiles, with his frantic waving from his seat next to Scott at the table. He smiled softly, making his way towards the energetic teen. Even though Stiles appeared to be human, Adam knew that he was involved somehow. It would be a shame if Adam would have to be slay Stiles, he seemed likable enough.

"Hey Adam!" Stiles grinned, scooting over so that Adam had a place to sit.

Adam couldn't help but notice that Stiles had given him the seat that placed Adam away from Scott. He wasn't sure if it was mere coincidence, or if the teens were just as wary of him as he was of them. "Hey Stiles, I take it your classes are going well?"

"As well as they can, when you've got Finstock for Econ." Scott shook his head, taking a bite of…what appeared to be spaghetti.

"He's absolutely crazy." Stiles nodded, "Which is fine when he's coaching Lacross…not so much while he's teaching Econ."

"I think we all have teachers like that." Adam chuckled, reaching into his backpack to grab his lunch. Sure, it was nothing more than a sandwich that he had bought at Starbucks that morning, but Adam wasn't about to poison his body with whatever was being served in the cafeteria (he'd go grocery shopping later).

"Yeah, and you're stuck with Harris, that sounds like fun." Scott mumbled.

"He wasn't that bad." Adam shook his head. Honestly, strict teachers weren't that hard to handle once one learned to say and do all the right things. "Besides, I'm good with Anatomy. It comes natural to me."

Adam had taken his first bite of sandwich when several other students joined them at the table. Even if Adam hadn't been on the lookout for werewolves, he would have noticed that the teens were in far greater shape than most of their peers. That, in addition to the fact that the sandy-haired boy kept eyeing him warily, suggested that Adam had just identified more of the werewolf pack.

"Hey guys!" Stiles smiled, "Adam, this is Isaac, Erika, and Boyd."

Adam nodded politely to them, smiling softly, "It is so nice to meet you all." He didn't attempt to shake their hands: one, they were holding lunch trays, and two, Adam was pretty confident of his assessments of the teens.

And if Adam was being honest, the teens were not very good at hiding secrets. They were all downright shifty, and it made Adam nearly want to crawl out of his skin.

Though Adam wasn't sure why they were all so spooked by him…

I hope it's not because I smell like sulfur…I thought I washed these clothes after that demon in San Diego…That's what I get for washing my clothes in a motel sink…

As the teens settled into their lunches and conversations, Adam noticed that Scott was not paying attention to the activities at hand. Instead, the dark haired boy was staring across the cafeteria to where two girls, a brunette and a redhead, were enjoying their own lunch.

Adam nudged Stiles gently, "Who's Scott staring at?"

Stiles followed Scott's gaze across the the room, blanching slightly, "Oh, just some…friends…"

"So which one is Scott's crush?"

"Crush, who said anything about a crush?"

"Scott did, with his googoo eyes." Adam rolled his eyes, taking a drink of water from his Nalgene. He did not miss the hormonal years of high school…even if prom had been enjoyable…

Stiles grimaced, "It's his ex, actually…"

"Ah…" Adam noticed that Stiles hadn't said which girl had been romantically linked to Scott, and wasn't providing any more details than necessary. But Adam wasn't going to push it, no need to stir trouble any more than necessary.

As he took another bite of his sandwich, Adam was content to simply keep an eye on the werewolf pack. After all, he still needed to meet with Michael to see what information the archangel had dug up.

As the son of the sheriff, Stiles didn't like to admit that he had developed a skill for sneaking around. As a guy with a violently protective boyfriend, he didn't like admitting that he had his hand in another guy's pocket.

But Stiles didn't mind admitting that he was able to pick pocket the older teen. Hey, desperate times called for desperate measures. It might have been a shot in the dark, but Stiles had to get a feel for the new guy.

The first thing Stiles noticed as he looked at the phone was that it was an old flip phone, probably a pre-paid one. Who still used those?

But at least old phone meant no passcode to get in the phone. While Adam was engrossed in conversation with Erika, Stiles quickly flipped through the phone's information. And either Adam was not a tech savvy guy, or he just really didn't like using his phone. The thing was practically virgin, with the exception of the few calls placed to places around Beacon Hills (a motel, the school, and the like). The guy only had one saved contact. Didn't he have any friends at his old school?

Since Adam only had one contact, Stiles was able to narrow down the messages that he should check (which was good, since Stiles really wasn't sure what he was supposed to be looking for in the first place.

Message from: Michael
[Found a lycan.]

Stiles could feel his blood freeze in his body when he read those three words. Lycan, aka werewolf. Aka Adam and the mysterious Michael knew the secret of the Beacon Hills pack. Though Stiles nearly lost his lunch when he read Adam's reply.

[So are you going to take care of it?]

So Adam knew as well, and fully intended to finish them off. Stiles had seen enough, he had what he wanted. Adam was a hunter, and a danger to them all.

Now to get the phone back into Adam's pocket without the hunter noticing…

And Stiles tried. Really, he did. But his sneaking abilities only extended to getting things out, not so much putting them back.

Instead the phone fell to the tile floor with a clatter, the back and battery pack separating from the phone upon impact. The group's attention was instantly drawn to the pieces of the phone.

"Damn, the phone is always doing that…" Adam sighed, picking up the pieces of the phone to put it back together, "I could have sworn it was in my pocket."

"I hate it when my phone does that." Stiles nodded in agreement, hoping the other teen wouldn't suspect that the phone had made its way out of his pocket through any other power than gravity.

Adam didn't seem to suspect, as he powered up the phone again, "Thank goodness it's not broken. My uncle would never let me live it down if I had to get a new one."

"Your uncle?" Scott asked, "You're staying with your uncle?"

"Yeah, it's just me and him, really." Adam nodded, "Uncle Michael more or less took me in after my mom died."

So the mysterious Michael was actually Uncle Michael. Two hunters with familial ties. Not a whole lot of information to go one, but luckily, Stiles knew who to go to for information on hunters…

Allison Argent had been a very rough school year. Changing schools, losing an aunt, losing a mother, and losing a grandfather could take a toll on any teenage girl. That wasn't even accounting for…well, the family secret. Which, in all honesty, had made Allison's life miserable for long enough. She'd be more than happy to never deal with werewolves or their ilk ever again.

So seeing Stiles next to her locker after school was one of the last things Allison wanted to see.

"Please tell me you just want the Chem homework…" Allison sighed as she approached her locker.

Stiles laughed awkwardly, "Like I ever do Chem homework." He rubbed the back of his neck, "Listen, Allison, I know you don't want to deal with any of this supernatural stuff anymore—"

"Then don't involve me." Allison replied shortly, opening her locker and grabbing her books.

"Look, it's nothing big, Allison." Stiles nodded.

"Don't do this to me, Stiles." Shaking her head, Allison slammed her locker shut. "Not after everything else I've lost." With that, she made her way out of the hallway, eager to meet her dad and get home.

She hadn't expected Stiles to grab her arm as she left, "Listen, we just need you to ask your dad if he recognizes the name Milton as a hunter family name, and what he knows about them."

Despite everything she told herself about being involved was a bad idea, Allison turned back to Stiles, "Milton?"

"There's a new kid at school, named Adam Milton. He wears a solid silver ring on his right hand, and it looks super old." Stiles cleared his throat, forcing himself to get back on topic, "I checked his phone, and he and his uncle had this conversation about finding a lycan and "taking care of it." I know things suck right now…but you and your dad are the only people we trust who can give us any information about these two."

Allison sighed. One of these days, getting involved in supernatural matters was going to get her killed.

"Alright."

"Alright?"

"Alright, I'll talk to my dad." Allison shook her head, "I can't promise anything much, Stiles."

"Anything is better than what we have." Stiles nodded enthusiastically, "Thank you Allison."

She didn't respond, smiling weakly at Stiles before turning back to meet her father at their designated meeting space. Her father would not like this conversation one bit…

Michael didn't like admitting he enjoyed anything part of human culture, including the humans themselves. They were still weak, immoral creatures, and Michael hated having to associate with them during his banishment…for the most part.

Though as he sat in a diner booth, looking over the menu, Michael had to admit there were some redeeming qualities in humanity.

"Why are you looking at a menu? Don't you always order the same thing?"

Michael looked up to see Adam taking a seat across from him. It was strange, but Michael had grown accustom to the young man's company, both as a host and as a partner. "I like to look at the variety."

Adam snorted, picking up his own menu, "The only variety you try, Michael, is what I make you try."

"Believe it or not, I am capable of exploring varieties on my own." Michael murmured, scanning the menu for the tenth time.

Adam hummed noncommittally, picking up his own menu. By the time the waitress came by with water, the blond had already decided on his order, "Can I get the Garden Salad with grilled chicken; dressing on the side, please?"

The Waitress nodded as she jotted down the order before turning to Michael, "And you, sir?"

Michael looked at the menu again before sighing, "I'll have the buffalo wings."

"Mild or spicy?"

"…Spicy." Michael didn't even want to see the smug look on Michael's face as the waitress walked away with their order.

"Nice variety."

"Shut up."

Adam smiled, taking a sip of his water, "So what did you find?"

Straight the point, Michael liked that about Adam, he knew when to get down to business. "I came across a lycan while walking the streets."

The blond nodded, "You told me that already. Why didn't you take care of it like the other werewolves we've hunted?"

"Not a werewolf, a lycanthrope."

Adam blinked, "…Aren't they the same thing? I mean, lycanthrope is just a fancier word for it, but…"

Michael shook his head, "There is a slight difference. Werewolves are what we have hunted in the past: feral animals who survive on human hearts for the most part. Sometimes they form packs, with an Alpha to lead them, sometimes they wander alone. But what I haven't told you yet, is about the Alpha."

By now, Adam had gotten a notebook from his backpack and was prepared to take notes. "So what's so special about a pack leader?"

"Not a pack leader, Adam. This isn't about an Alpha, this is about the Alpha. The Alpha Lycanthrope is the first werewolf, lycanthropy started through him."

Adam was scribbling now, "Alright, Grandaddy Werewolf…"

"And those who descended from his line, or are within four "bite generations" of one of those lines, are called purebloods. But they refer to themselves as lycanthropes." Michael continued.

Adam looked up at Michael, his hand still moving at an accelerated rate as he wrote, "So lycans are one of these purebloods, and werewolves are not. And you found one of these guys?" He raised an eyebrow, "More importantly, what difference does is make about their lineage?"

"Because, Adam," Michael paused in his explanation as the waitress arrived with their food. Only after she left did he continue, "purebloods have more control than a run of the mill werewolf. They can shift at will, not just during the full moon. Not all lycan bites will cause the spread of lycanthropy, only the bite of a pack Alpha. And, most importantly: they don't need to survive on human hearts."

That gave Adam pause, "And you're sure the werewolf you saw was a…lycanthrope?"

Michael nodded, "Absolutely, it may have been a few centuries since I dealt with them, but I still recognize a pureblood. In fact, he's the pack Alpha."

"And if he's the one from this oh so special lineage…then those in his pack are also purebloods?"

"If they're not more than four bites removed."

"…so they aren't a threat?" Michael could practically hear the hope in Adam's voice.

"I wouldn't say that just yet."

Of course Michael would say that. Adam wasn't sure what made him think that Michael could simply say "Don't worry, they're harmless." But then again, there was probably a good reason behind it.

"They can still kill very easily." Michael nodded, picking up a greasy wing and taking a bite. "And we don't know if they're behind the violent attacks that have surrounded Beacon Hills."

"True." Adam nodded, flipping through his binder as he took a bite of salad, "Did you find out anything else?"

"Other than the fact our Alpha has a history of violence following him." Michael reached a sticky hand over to Adam's binder (only bothering to clean his hand off when Adam smacked the hand away from his precious notebook). The archangel flipped through their collected pages on Beacon Hills, coming to one of their oldest entries, "This house fire is our starting point. Wiped out nearly the entire Hale family, only three survived: one adult, and two teens out at a school dance."

"Right, I remember reading this." Adam nodded, his memory jogged.

"Well of those three survivors, only two are alive." Michael turned the page, "The third, Miss Laura Hale, becomes our victim number 2, if we lump the fire victims together."

"And Laura was ripped apart in an "animal attack." And her brother was a suspect because he buried part of her body." Adam chuckled, dipping his fork in the dressing before taking another bite of salad.

"Yes, but here's the thing." Michael pointed at the newspaper clipping detailing Laura Hale's death. There was only one picture in the article: her brother Derek being loaded into the back of a police car under suspicion of his sister's death, "That's the Alpha I saw."

Adam raised an eyebrow, "Derek Hale is the Alpha? A bit young, don't you think?"

"Says the twenty year old hunter." Michael smirked, "But Alpha's aren't always about age, they're about strength. Strongest one is the leader, easy as that.

"But knowing that Derek, and likely everyone in Beacon Hills with the last name Hale, is a lycan, brings more clarity to the rest of the deaths." Michael flipped though the pages quickly to find the more recent deaths, "Victims three, four, six, seven, and nine were all involved in the arson of the Hale family home."

"Sounds like good old fashion revenge murder to me." Adam shook his head, "And victims five and eight?"

"Five was a janitor killed during a school attack, my guess is he was simply a victim of circumstance." Michael took another bite of spicy chicken, "And eight was the personal nurse of one Peter Hale, survivor number three."

"Good God, this is complicated." Adam ignored the way Michael flinched at the mention of his father, instead taking more bites of his salad, "But there are more deaths than that…"

Michael nodded, "Most definitely. While victim ten was a vagrant who was found cut in half by a sword, victims eleven, twelve, thirteen, and fourteen apparently all had connections to a…a swim team? What exactly is that?"

"It's like how some people run races, but instead they swim it." Adam answered Michael's human culture question as he checked on the deaths of victims ten through fourteen, "Hold up…Lahey."

"Who?"

"Victim eleven." Adam rolled his eyes, "I met his son while I was at the school. I couldn't be sure, but I'm pretty sure that he's a lycan as well."

"So there are at least two lycans?"

"More than that. I know a student named Scott McCall is definitely a lycan. In fact, I was probably introduced to an entire pack of them during lunch." Adam chuckled, "But here's the thing: they all seemed nervous, if not scared of me."

Michael frowned, "Well that doesn't seem right…why would they be scared of you?"

Before either of them could think of a reasonable answer, the diner was filled with the low whines of sirens as police cruiser after police cruiser sped by the window. The hunter and the angel shared a look as the last police cruiser moved out of range.

Huffing out a sigh, Michael put down the half eaten buffalo wing, "I suppose I should go see what the fuss is about."

Adam nodded, "As tragic as it sounds, if it is another victim, it'll be good to get a look at the fresh body and figure out if they are lycan wounds."

The angel grunted in response, getting out of his chair and walking towards the diner's restrooms. It had taken Adam quite a while to teach Michael that he simply couldn't disappear and reappear in public. Humans might not be very observant, he had told Michael, but they aren't completely oblivious. So Michael learned to walk to a less noticeable area before "flying" away.

After Michael left to check out the center of the police attention, Adam allowed himself a few moments to enjoy his salad and make a few notes in his notebook. Beacon Hills had an impressive body count, and conspiracies to go along with it. Part of Adam wished it was something as simple as a vengeful werewolf (or rather, lycan), so that way he and Michael could slay the rabid dog and be on to the next assignment. On the other hand, the kids Adam had talked to at the school had seemed like good kids. They seemed more like puppies than werewolves.

Adam shook his head, getting a fresh page from his notebook to keep his thoughts organized.

Beacon Hills Lycans:
Derek Hale (Alpha) — Peter Hale (Uncle) [both original lycans]
Scott McCall
Isaac Lahey
Erica Reyes
Boyd (Surname?)

After a bit of thought, Adam decided he didn't exactly have a place for Stiles on his chart. He wasn't a lycan, that was obvious, but it was also clear that the energetic teen was deeply involved with his group of friends.

Stiles (Human— does he know? What is his role?)

Normally Adam didn't have to put together so many puzzle pieces for a hunt. For the most part, it would be as simple as: identify cause of human death, identify the monster, kill the monster, get out of town quick. And honestly, Adam enjoyed the change of pace. Perhaps it was cases like this that God had intended them to take care of…

From behind his seat at the booth, Adam could head the door to the diner opening, along with a male voice speaking.

"Stiles, I don't care what your dad's radio said, you are not going to snoop around anywhere."

Adam didn't turn to look at the voice mentioning a suspect (for want of a better word); too obvious. Instead, he simply waited for the man to pass by his booth on his way to the counter.

Even from a side/back view, Adam could easily recognize Derek Hale. The Alpha was alone, but was holding a cellphone to his ear, and Adam already knew who was on the other end…

"Look, just stay at your place, Stiles. I'll be over in a bit with food…yes, I'm getting curly fries…and shakes…"

Adam smiled to himself as he listened to the conversation. He knew those types of conversations. After finishing off his salad, Adam drew a line from Stiles's name to Derek's.

Possibly together [or very close]

The blond had barely finished jotting the note down that the Alpha grabbed a to-go bag from the counter, making his way out of the diner. Derek could see Adam now as he walked past the booth, and Adam felt the lycan stare him down the entire time. In fact, he could have sworn he saw a snarl curling at the corners of the Alpha's mouth, just before Derek left the diner.

And while Adam had learned many things over the past year when it came to monsters and the supernatural, the most important thing Michael had taught him was to always trust his instincts.

He added a small note to the bottom of his page.

They know (How? What does that mean for the hunt?)

Adam hadn't listed half the questions he had bouncing in his head when he realized that Michael was seated across from him again, eating his buffalo wings. While Michael had learned to vanish more discretely, he was still a sneaky motherfucker even while walking.

"That was quick." Adam muttered distractedly, rubbing his temples. Perhaps he could ask the waitress for a cup of coffee… "So what was it?"

"A murder." The archangel nodded, "Based on what I could hear from the conversations of the lawmen—"

Police, Michael, they're called police…

"Someone reported hearing screams from a warehouse on the other side of town. The first officer on sight found the body in what was described as "one fucked up Satanic ritual," which prompted him to call in back up."

Adam snorted, both at hearing Michael curse as well a the description of the scene, "We both know that people have a tendency to describe a lot of things they don't understand as "Satanic." So what do you think really happened?"

"I have no doubt that whatever happened in that warehouse was demonic."

Well, that was new. Adam went to get another forkful of his salad, only to realize he was stabbing his empty plate, "Are you sure it couldn't have been a lycan attack? What wounds did the body have?"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?" Adam frowned.

"I couldn't get inside the warehouse." Micheal shook his head. The angel reached into his pocket to take out his phone. After taking a few moments to scroll through his menu options, Michael turned the phone to Adam to show him the pictures on the screen, "This was on each of the doors and windows at the warehouse."

Adam stared at the tiny screen, trying to make out the drawn shapes being depicted, "What is this, Michael?"

"An Angel-banishing sigil." Michael nodded slowly, "Of course, it may be possible that our Alpha might have had the knowledge to draw those sigils, if his family had that kind of background."

"It wasn't Derek." Adam sighed, "I just saw him in here picking up food. He was not sweaty, or covered in blood. There's no way he could have killed someone across town, get changed, and get here all within the time it took police to respond to the call."

Michael didn't question Adam's statement, nodding slowly, "The only other groups that would know those sigils are other angels, and I have yet to meet with any of my brothers and sisters, or demons."

"Demons…" Adam felt all the air leave his lungs. They were dealing with demons, demons who didn't want an angel to find out their business. "This could be what we were meant to find…this must be part of the mess we're cleaning up…"

"And more importantly, stop another mess before it can happen." Michael nodded, dropping the last bone from his wings onto his plate. "We've got our work to do."

Adam was not a fool. He knew very well that a single hunter, even one with angelic back up, wouldn't be able to handle all of the chaos in Beacon Hills. He had some basic experience with demons, but demons who were hiding something behind sigils strong enough to keep an archangel out? He knew when he was out of his league. And he wasn't above admitting that he needed help.

Sitting on the end of his motel bed, Adam turned his cellphone over in his hand carefully. Michael was, at that moment, scouring the town for any traces of demonic presence, leaving Adam to supposedly sleep. No doubt the archangel would be furious if he knew Adam was making the call he was about to make.

Taking a deep breath, Adam punched in the numbers he had memorized like the back of his hand. As he held the phone to his ear, he knew that no one was going to pick up at the other end. No one ever did. Instead, all he got was the answering machine.

"This is John Winchester. I'm unavailable. If this is an emergency, call my son Dean: 785-555-0179. He can help."

Adam smiled softly at hearing his father's voice. He wondered if John was looking down on him, watching as he became just like his brothers. Even if Adam had never been a close to his father as Sam and Dean had been, he couldn't help but feel closer to the family (despite having never spoken with them) since he began hunting.

But introspection aside, Adam quickly hung up the cell phone and dialed the digits listed by John Winchester. Again, no one picked up at the other end.

"This is Dean. If this is an emergency, leave a message."

Short and to the point. One of the few instances in which Dean didn't like to hear his own voice, it seemed. But Adam didn't dwell on how his brother may be as a person, simply waiting for the beep to allow him to record his message.

"Hi Dean, this is Adam…for real, this time. I'm sure you've been busy, I've been busy too since I crawled out of hell, but I really need your help in Beacon Hills, California. I've come across some very suspicious demon behavior…they're up to something, I just can't figure out what. There's already been one demonic sacrifice made, and if we don't hurry, the body count will only rise."

With that, Adam snapped the phone closed. Well, that should get big brother's attention.

Yes, I realize that the chances of Dean still having the phone number he used in season 1 is very slim. But since a new phone number isn't mentioned until season 7, I decided I was going to play with things a little.

And man, it is very hard to blend these two fandoms and their lore together. I know TW werewolves don't react to silver, but they do for SPN, so I'm having to kinda cobble things together so they mesh well.

Anyway, let me know what you think and if you have any ideas of what you'd want to happen next!