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Chapter 4

Derek could still feel Stiles' frustration even after he'd drop the boy back at school. It lingered in the car as he pulled up the Hale house. He'd met each of Stiles' rapid fire questions with his usual stoic silence, only speaking as the teen got out of the car. Even then, just to instruct him not to say anything to Scott or Isaac about Becca or anything they'd found. Stiles muttered something about not having a clue what they'd actually found as he slammed the car door and stalked away.

Stepping slowly from his car, Derek could hear Peter inside the house and knew without looking that he was watching him. He was not in the mood for a conversation with the older wolf. He wanted a shower and change of clothes to rid himself of the lingering smell of smoke from the fire that morning. He had enough on his mind without the scent of fire dredging up more memories of the one that had left his home and life a shell of what it had once been.

Peter was standing at the base of the stairs when Derek entered, his nose wrinkling with distaste. "Rushing off in the middle of the night, leaving before I wake up in the morning and now coming back smelling of smoke," Peter shook his head pursing his lips like a disapproving parent. "I feel like this is your teenage years all over again." Derek stepped to the stairs, but Peter didn't move. "Are we gonna have to have the talk again?"

A frustrated growl rumbled at the base of Derek's throat, his eyes flashing red at his uncle's smirking face. "MOVE," Derek snarled, grabbing his uncle's shoulders and shoving him aside.

"Touchy, touchy," Peter called up after him. "I'm just being a concerned uncle."

Derek stood under the spray of the shower, letting the hot water work the kinks out of his neck and shoulders. He went over what he'd learned, though it wasn't much. Not only was Becca a hunter, but she was mixed up with the Brethren. Was she a member? It seemed unlikely, from what Derek remembered of his encounter with the group of hunters they'd only been men among them.

Jamie Briggs. The name set his blood boiling, his fists clenched at this sides. After the fire Derek and his sister Laura had left Beacon Hills. Run from was probably more true. They'd run, afraid the hunters that had killed their family would want to finish the job. They'd ended up in New York joining another pack there, hoping to blend in, and thinking there was safety in numbers.

Unfortunately, their new pack, didn't believe in preserving human life as much as they did in giving in to their animal urges. A rash of animal attacks and killings attracted hunters; attracted the Brethren. They'd managed to stay hidden as the hunters killed the members of their new pack, one-by-one. Their loyalty to each other outweighed any loyalty they may have felt towards the others. They soon found out the Alpha of their new pack felt the same way about them.

Jamie and another hunter had the Alpha cornered, toying with it, wanting to know if there were any others left. At first the Alpha refused to talk, but hunters had ways of getting the answers they wanted. Eventually, he told the hunters about his two newest members, even gave them descriptions. Derek could feel the anger and betrayal from Laura, just as he felt her clawed nails dig into his hand as he held her still. It was her angry growl that gave away their position to the hunters.

They'd split up, running in opposite directions to better their chances of getting away. They promised to meet, a small farmhouse outside Rochester in a week. Derek had no intention of getting away. Not if he could lead the hunters away from his sister and keep the last of his family alive.

The hunters had cornered him, unsure when they found him in his human form beneath the full moon. The other hunter was sure they had the wrong guy, it was impossible after all for an infected person to control the wolf, under the sway of the full moon. But Jamie didn't seem convinced.

He stowed his gun in his belt and slowly moved forward while the other hunter kept his gun trained on Derek, demanding to know what Jamie was doing. Jamie punched Derek in the stomach. "Just making sure," he called back to his friend. "You've always gotta be sure."

Derek hunched over, listening for his sister, her scent growing fainter on the wind. He drew a shallow breath and slowly stood back up, ready to take another hit if it meant his sister would get away. Jamie seemed only too willing to oblige, punching him in the face this time.

"The female is gone," a voice called from the shadows. "Where's the male?" Rowan St. Christen stepped from the shadows. Jamie backed away from Derek as the other hunter explained that they'd cornered Derek here and that he fit the description the Alpha had given. Rowan leaned his head back against his shoulders and Derek smelt blood. Glowing green eyes surveyed Derek a long moment, before he stepped forward and drew a deep breath. "Why isn't he shifting, the moon is full?" He turned back to the two hunters his features returning to human as he gave them both a questioning glance. Neither hunter spoke. "Pack it up, we lost them. We'll have to wait until the next full moon to track them."

"What about him?" Jamie asked, motioning to Derek.

"I'll give him something else to remember," Rowan replied. "You know how persuasive I can be."

"C'mon, you don't wanna watch him put the vampire mojo on this guy," Jamie said to the other hunter, leading him away. "It's all snivelling and wet pants," he added loud enough that Derek would have heard him without his heightened hearing.

"So, how do you not shift?" Rowan asked, leaning in close and sniffing Derek's neck. "I've never met someone who can control the wolf on a full moon."

"I don't know what you're—"

"Ahh, ahh, ahh." Rowan shook his head. "You can fool them, but me," he paused, and took a deep breath, breathing him in. "I can smell what you are." Rowan smiled, taking a step back. "Good, now that we understand each other, you are going to explain to me how you control your wolf. And just so you know, if you lie to me, I'll kill you myself."

"I just focus on something," Derek had explained. "Something separate from the wolf, stronger than the wolf."

"And what is that?"

"My family, my sister. Protecting her, keeping her alive."

"You know," Rowan smiled menacingly, giving Derek's shoulder a squeeze. "I could kill you right now – the Brethren wouldn't question it. In fact, if they knew what you are, you'd already be dead." Rowan threw his arm across Derek's shoulder now, leaning in as though talking to a friend. "But I'm going to let you go, because you might be of use to me someday." His arm fell away from Derek and he began to walk away, calling over his shoulder, "And I always collect my debts."

Derek found his uncle in what had once been the family room. He sat with his legs hanging over the side of the armchair he'd moved to cover the hole in the floor near the fireplace. His hands behind his head, he stared up at the ceiling. "So, Adonis returns," he drawled, smirking at Derek.

Derek paused a moment, wondering what his uncle knew about the Brethren, if anything and if he would actually tell him if he asked. Considering Peter's mood, Derek thought better of it. There were enough people toying with him at the moment, he didn't need to Peter's cryptic non-responses, too.

"What's on your mind, kiddo?" Peter asked, pushing up from his seat and moving to stand in front of Derek. "You've got your thinking face on and we both know you're more of an action guy. So why not let your good ol' uncle Peter help you figure it out?"

"I gotta go," Derek muttered, side stepping his uncle and grabbing for his jacket. But in a blur of movement the older werewolf was in the doorway, blocking his way again.

"Seriously, though, if you didn't want to talk to me we both know you could've grabbed another jacket and avoided me, but you didn't." Peter folded his arms across his chest. "So, what is it you want to ask?"

Derek wasn't sure what to make of Peter's being so willing to help. Sometimes, he thought he caught glimpses of the man his uncle used to be, the man before the fire that he could trust. But then Peter inevitably did something to erase all doubt that the man he'd once been was gone, scarred beyond repair. "What do you know about the Brethren?"

"You're joking, right?" Peter stalked away from the doorway to the fireplace, staring at the empty hearth. "What is it with you and hunters? They're all the same. No matter what they say, their only purpose is to kill our kind." he offered, pinning Derek with his probing gaze. "If Rowan St. Christen and his merry band of hunters are in town, you can expect a war between them and the Argents' hunters." He moved to stand in front of Derek again, laying his hand on Derek's shoulder. Derek fought the urge to shrug it off, noticing what looked like true concern in Peter's eyes. "Just stay out of their way. With any luck they'll kill each other and leave us out of it." Peter's hand dropped away and the moment was over.