"Sure, make yourself comfortable…" Peter said as Stiles plopped down on his couch. Malia sat carefully beside him, not taking her eyes off of Peter, and Dean took the armchair.

"So who is it?" Dean asked.

"Your Omega? Yes, well… it's a bit complicated."

"How?" Malia asked.

"Because your Omega isn't exactly an Omega. She's a Hale."

"When the Hale house burnt down we lost almost everyone. Unfortunately... my sister, Valerie Hale, survived the fire. I don't know how she did it or where she's been all these years but... she's alive."

"But how do you know that?" Malia asked.

"Because she came to my house!" Peter snapped back. "Obviously I need to move... to many people visit me here..."

"What did she say? What did she do?" Dean asked.

"Well... She asked me about an old scroll that was passed down from our ancestors. Apparently, it had some sort of ritual written on it that could give you great power. I told her that if it even survived the fire it was probably stashed in the vault, like most of the stuff from the old house."

"You told her?" Stiles exclaimed.

"Oh... did I fail to mention that all this happened while her claws were at my throat?" Peter replied swiftly.

Stiles rolled his eyes. What a drama queen!

"Yes. I told her." He continued, "She wasn't like herself at all she was angry and distracted... and then she left. The next day, I went to check the vault and it had been trashed. I don't know if she found it but..."

"What's the ritual?" Dean asked. "I mean, what does she have to do to-"

"Sacrifice," Peter said. The word rang through the room.

"Why does it always have to be sacrifice...?" Stiles mumbled.

"Three of your own Betas." Peter continued. "Eat their hearts on the night of the new moon... and you've got unspeakable power."

Ding!

Stiles jumped at the sudden vibration in his pocket. He checked his phone and sure enough, there was one new message from Scott:

Dude, the thing the Omega was eating last night was another werewolf! Meet at sheriff's station ASAP!

"Uhh... guys..." Stiles looked at Malia and Dean. "We gotta go... now!"

Sheriff Stilinski was sort of disappointed his suspicions about the FBI agents were right. Deep down, he was hoping they'd come in and take care of some of the shit-show cases that were piling up on his desk. Instead, he had to spend an hour in the morgue trying to revive the fainted coroner. Now he was sitting at his desk listening to four teenagers and two grown men talk about werewolves and sacrifices at new moon. God he needed a drink.

"I don't understand..." Sam said "Including this wolf, there have been four deaths by animal attacks this month. I thought Peter said she only needed three?"

"Maybe when she turned one of them they lost control and killed someone else?" Lydia suggested.

"Or maybe when she bit one they didn't survive the transformation and she didn't want to waste a perfectly good heart?" Stiles pitched in.

"Wait... how do we know how many Beta's she's turned and killed already?" Dean said

"We already do..." the Sheriff said, finally catching up with the conversation.

"What? How?" Malia demanded.

"I've done reports for each of the bodies and... the first and third victims were definitely human, but the second..." The sheriff shook his head. "I thought I was being paranoid or seeing things but, I could have sworn she had claws... on what was left of her hand."

"Wait... hand? Like, singular?" Stiles asked curiously.

"The body was almost unrecognizable; I didn't know what to think," Stilinski said.

"So if she's already got two Betas..." Scott started.

"She only needs one more." Stiles finished, a smirk spreading across his face. "Guys... I think I've got a plan."

From the looks on everyone's faces, Stiles concludes that the group was either super impressed with his plan or extremely horrified by it. Malia was the first to speak to it.

"Are you insane?" She exclaimed. Well, that settled the impressed vs horrified debate.

"Come on, I think it could really work," Stiles said. "And if you look at the victims she's got a type: human teenager-"

"We are not using you for bait, Stiles!" Malia said.

"She's right Stiles," Sam said, much more gently. "We can't let you do that, it's too dangerous."

"Actually... as much as I hate to admit it, I think Stiles might be on to something," Scott said, looking at Stiles.

"What?" Lydia asked.

"We've got a whole pack, and she's on her own." Scott began, "If she gets anywhere near Stiles I know two guys who are really good with shotguns!"

Sam and Dean looked at each other uncertainly.

"Plus... Stiles is a pretty good fighter. Have you seen him with a baseball bat?"

Sheriff Stilinski chuckled softly to himself.

"I'm just saying... I think this could work." Scott finished.

"No."

Everyone turned to look at Dean, the source of the objection.

"No." He repeated. "There's no way I'm dangling a kid's life in front of a homicidal werewolf."

"But-" Stiles tried.

"No. We'll find another way. End of discussion."

With that Dean turned and stormed out of the office.

"What was that?" Sam asked his brother once he caught up with him in the parking lot.

"What was what?" Dean replied.

"That! In there." Sam snapped back. "Last night you were ready to put a bullet in that kid and now you want to-"

"I was not-" Dean started to shout, but stopped when a couple of Deputies passed them. "I was not going to put a bullet in his brain... I... I don't know what happened last night. I was just so angry I... the point is I am not letting that kid do this. He's been through enough shit already."

Dean opened the door to the Impala and got in. Sam did the same.

"What?" He asked, slamming the door behind him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean the kid got possessed, Sam. A friggen sixteen-year-old kid!" Dean exclaimed. "And Scott got turned into a werewolf when he was a freshman, Malia's family died when she turned into a coyote and Lydia can literally sense when her friends are going to die. I think these kids have been through enough already."

Sam sat silently in the passenger seat, staring sadly at the Sheriff's Station.

"These kids didn't get to be kids Sammy because of all the supernatural bullshit we're supposed to stop..." Dean shook his head defiantly. "We're the hunters here Sammy, if we can't take care of one were-bitch than why are we here?"

Sam nodded and looked at his brother.

"Okay... we'll leave the kids out of it... but what's our plan."

Dean turned the key and the Impala roared to life. He smirked.

"I was thinking we'd come up with it on the way there..."