Time Shall Unfold

Project File: Time Shall Unfold by Ellywinkle (Teenwolf)

Series Content Warning: NC-17

Warnings: Character Bashing, Dark Themes, Death – Major Character, Death – Minor Character, Discussion – Non Con, Discussion – Rape, Explicit Sex, Hate Crimes, Homophobia, Kidnapping, Murder, Racism, Violence – Canon – Level
Genres: Alternate Universe, Fantasy
Relationships: Peter Hale/Noah Stilinski, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Word Count: 36,926

Author Note: Final story in my Shakespeare in the Preserve Series. Warnings and ratings are for the series, not individual stories.

Summary: Magic is going wild, upsetting the balance of life and exposing the supernatural to the fear and hate of humanity. Noah Stilinski could care less about the world that’s going to hell around him. His world died the day he lost his son, and he would do anything to get him back. Even participate in some weird resurrection ritual at an old tree stump. The thing with rituals is intent is everything and they don’t react well to interference.

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Time shall unfold what plighted cunning hides,
Who covers faults, at last shame them derides.
— King Lear

Chapter One

Peter Hale slammed his hands against the dash as the suv spun perilously close to the edge of the mountain trail, thankful for the seatbelt that kept him from slamming against the windshield. The tires spun, seeking purchase on the rocky ground. He looked toward the driver, Ulysses Grimshaw, who had the biggest grin on his face. One would think they were out for a joy ride instead of evading murderous hunters. Just as Peter started to calculate the time needed to escape the vehicle to solid ground, the jeep gained traction and they shot forward.

“Hell, ya!” Grimshaw yelled out before gunning it and heading for the next bend at breakneck speed.

“What are the odds that we lose our pursuers before you send us to a horrible death on this mountain?” Peter asked just as he gulped in another lungful of air and held tight to the Oh Shit! Handles.

“Shoot, Hale, I could drive these paths blindfolded. But if you prefer to let those trigger-happy children catch up, just let me know when to kick you out the door. I’m sure they would be happy to give you a lift back to civilization.”

“And miss your sterling hospitality, I wouldn’t dream of it.” They scraped against a boulder and Peter just knew the jackass Bear shifter was doing it on purpose.

There was the sound of a second engine closer than the first behind them. This one with the distinctive pitch of a motorcycle. “I believe they have received reinforcements.”

Grimshaw leaned ever so closer to the window then chuckled. “Sounds like Granny decided to join the fun.”

Just as they rounded the next bend, the road split. One road headed up and to the left and another down to the right. Just before the split a tunnel opened up into the mountain, barely large enough for the vehicle. A lookout waved them in. Grimshaw made the turn into the tunnel and killed the engine while three people rushed to camouflage the entrance.

Peter raised an eyebrow at Grimshaw while the man just grinned like a loon. They waited in silence as the engine of their pursuer came to a stop at the turnoff. Peter knew his eyes were glowing blue as he reached out with his hearing.

“Which way?”

“Left just heads up to that pass into back country.”

“Some of the mutts could be hiding out that way.”

“Maybe, but the right hand road leads to about ten or so small towns out here. Just the kind of isolationist places their kind like to infect. Map doesn’t show any CPI Chapters out that way.”

The screech of the motorcycle coming to a halt near the vehicle sounded before an impact and the distinct sound of glass breaking.

“What the fuck! You’re going down, asshole!”

“As if a bunch of infants with bb guns bother me. But your little chase back there ruined my meditation, boys. You owe me an apology.”

“Apology? You broke my window, bitch.”

“Didn’t your mother teach you to respect your elders?” The voice grew deeper with a bit of a guttural undertone.

“Holy shit, she’s a fucking wolf.”

“Do I look like a wolf to you?” The growl was punctuated by the revving of the engine before the tire spun out and the motorcycle took off.

“Turn around!” One voice called out.

Almost on top of it was, “Get her!” Before the vehicle followed the bike back the way they had come.

“Granny?” Peter glanced at Grimshaw as they listened to the engines moving further away.

“First lesson I learned as a cub was never disturb Granny when she’s meditating.” He started up the jeep and slowly made his way through the narrow tunnel.

“This the only way in?” Peter noted most of the tunnel wall appeared natural, with only a few areas carved out. The supports were sturdy but seemed more decorative than anything.

“There are a couple passes into the valley, but they’re hard to find if you don’t know what to look for.” The tunnel opened into a cavern just before they reached the end. Several vehicles were parked inside, so it wasn’t surprising when Grimshaw pulled over next to a small shortbed truck. “No roads going down, so we walk from here.”

Peter grabbed his duffel and adjusted the strap so it was riding snuggly over his back. “I guess it was a good idea to wear my hiking boots.”

Grimshaw grabbed a bag of his own and led the way to the rough opening. As Peter stepped into the light, he took in the sight of the valley. Everything was green and filled with life. Overflowing if you count the number of people moving along footpaths cut into the mountain.

“How many are living here?” Peter turned to look up behind them where still more paths could be seen.

“Tipped over 800 a few weeks back. Honestly don’t know how many we can sustain.” The man turned and started marching down a path. “Let’s drop the bags at the Den before I take you to the Hot Springs.”

“I would appreciate that.” Peter marked their direction and calculated escape paths in the event they were needed. Ulysseys exchanged waves and greetings with people as they made their way through the unusual town. Unusual not just because of the hidden location, but by the way eye flashes were exchanged openly. Children, half-shifted in a variety of forms, raced in and out of traffic playing without care for who might see.

“Word travels that hunter activity is on the rise.” Peter glanced to a group of teens hanging out laundry to dry.

“Fucking hunters hiding behind that CPI crap. Citizens Protection Initiative. Protecting the good, honest citizens from the monsters of the world.” Grimshaw spat on the side of the path. “They’re just using it to track us all down. We’re hiding the ones we can in the towns around here. There are a few hidden refuges like this one around the country for those who need to disappear for a while.”

“We’ve had a steady influx of new families in Beacon Hills since magic went haywire, but the Argents keep a public presence there,” Peter admitted. “Most of our information is second hand.”

“Let me tell you how it went in Pueblo. CPI set up shop in the Denver area, Boulder, and the Springs. Preached their sermons on making the world safer, then started recruiting. They just make their presence known in the cities and make their lists. Keep watch in the name of protection. Then they spread out to the smaller cities and towns. They moved into Pueblo and went from identifying to targeting. Harassing, but in a way that looks like being helpful to an outsider. Accidents happen and you’re reminded that your neighbors are watching. You don’t want everyone to see what you really are.” Grimshaw stopped and turned to look at Peter.

“There was an incident. Some stupid teenagers doing what stupid teenagers do. A human was injured and the Alpha offered the bite to try to save a life. The girl begged for it, but her parentswere heavily into the CPI and they were horrified. Alpha Joycen gave her the bite anyway and the parents started a crusade to run all of the monsters out of town…starting with the Joycen Pack and their own daughter. Four months later not a single supernatural remains in Pueblo and more than thirty other towns on the eastern slope of the Rockies.”

Peter looked away a moment, “In my experience, Hunters don’t normally want to just run us out of town. They want to exterminate us.”

“They are using the CPI to drive us from our homes. Always before, we sought safety in distance. Spread out into our own territories, blend in with society, become the weird neighbors who are also pillars of the community.” Grimshaw motioned at the people living in this valley. “Suddenly we are congregating. You could almost say we’re being herded.”

They walked in silence until they reached a round wooden door set into the mountainside. It was propped open and there were several people lounging outside on benches with tables. Those present were discussing resource management and plans for winter. Peter noted the solar panels installed above the entryway that were recharging the laptops in use.

Grimshaw led him inside and showed him to a bunkroom to drop his bag. He barely had time to get the bag off before they were out the door and headed to the Hot Springs. The path passed by an impressive vertical garden that was being tended by a diligent workforce. Not big enough to be self-sufficient, but certainly able to supplement their diet if properly stored.

The smell of moisture and ozone struck him first. The path had been reinforced around the pools of steaming water. There were walkways and stairs stretched across them. Peter stooped down and let his fingers touch the water. There was a shock like electricity that blended in the the warmth and tingle he normally associated with magic.

“Grimshaw Clan claimed this valley when settlers first discovered these mountains. Family history says that the tribe that traveled these lands offered the valley in thanks for saving the tribe from certain death. They knew we were bear shifters and honored us as friends. For as long as this has been in our care, these hot springs were just a natural occurrence. Now they are infused with wild magic and we don’t know the cause.” Grimshaw turned and started to climb a set of stairs carved into the rock nearby.

Peter followed him until they reached a ledge overlooking the pools. Nearing the edge, Peter froze at the sight. At this angle, with the sun starting to set and the steam rising high, the pools glowed with unearthly light. Pulsing as if the light was a heartbeat. Pulsing in the distinct shape of the Hale Triskelion.

“Maybe you can explain why our Hot Springs are infused with Hale Magic?”

Peter took a deep breath as he stared and was inundated with the intense smell of medicine, rosemary, and peppermint. “Stiles,” Peter whispered, “What are you doing?”

Sheriff Noah Stilinski of Beacon Hills, California reassembled his service weapon slowly. When the last piece was in place he set it aside and picked up the clip. One by one he emptied it, lining up each of the shiny pristine rounds in front of him. He lowered the last one in place with a shaking hand.

The knock on his office door startled him and Noah took a deep breath before calling out, “Enter.”

Undersheriff Tara Graeme opened the door and slipped in before closing it behind her. Her eyes locked on the bullets before she visibly shook herself and moved to sit across from him. “Parrish is back.”

“Is the kid ok?” It was a bad scene and that kid had reminded Noah so much of Stiles in a panic attack.

“Yeah, Hale Pack has him now. They’ll keep him grounded until his father is released. Parrish said Eichen is keeping him on a 48 hour psychiatric hold for potential self-harm.” She shifted in the seat uncomfortably. “Anyone say what they are?”

Noah sighed and rubbed his face. “Deaton muttered something I couldn’t understand, but I take it they’re basically Bigfoot. Well, at least whatever they shift into is what people call bigfoot. According to Deaton they just came in from Arkansas and hit up the clinic to arrange an introduction to the Hale Alpha when his mating bond snapped. Deaton only knew the tribe was about a day behind them so we’re hoping the kid has a better idea of where they might be and how many.”

Tara nodded then reached out slowly to pick up one of the bullets and turned is slowly in her fingers. “Marks said you were forced to fire on it to protect the civilians at the clinic.” She turned the bullet around again before placing it back in the row. “He said you fired eight rounds.”

“Official report will show I was firing rubber bullets.”

“Marks and Parrish’s reports will agree. You want to explain to me how you could fire eight rubber bullets and still have a full clip?” Tara just raised an eyebrow at him.

“Honestly, I was just hoping to lead him away from the civilians. When he didn’t respond and started shifting, I figured he was like a werewolf and I could just slow him down. The last thing I wanted was for his son to be there to see it. But he honed right in on that idiot in the CPI shirt and I didn’t have a choice.” Noah picked up the gun. “I swear to god when I started firing, I was certain it was sending out blaster pulses like in Star Wars instead of bullets.”

“Whatever it was doing, Marks said he acted disoriented and then dropped the shift just as Parrish tackled him.” She shook her head. “Why don’t you finish your report then get out of here? I can cover for the rest of the day.”

Noah started to disagree, there was way too much to do.

“Noah, you discharged a firearm in the line of duty. You know I have to relieve you until the investigation is complete. Might as well make it a three day weekend and relax some.” Tara raised a hand to make a shooing motion. “You know I’m right and Derek already sent the Mitchums to give you a ride. Isn’t your boytoy due back in town tonight?”

Noah grimaced, “I promise to go if you never use the words Boy-toy again. Peter’s just a friend.”

“Peter Hale is a fine piece of real-estate that unfortunately has a great big sign stating Pending Contract. All you need to do is sign on the dotted line to close that deal.”

The smirk pasted across her face was a bit much in Noah’s opinion. “Why the hell are all my deputies so damned concerned with my sex life?” Noah scooped up the bullets and deposited them in his drawer. He’d open a new box of ammo, just in case. “And how in the world do you know when Peter’s due back when I haven’t had an update in a week?” Tara opened her mouth and Noah just cut her off, “No, I don’t want to know. Just keep your commentary to yourself, thank you.”

He packed up his equipment and reached for his jacket thrown over the printer behind him. If he hurried he could beat Joannie Mitchum out of here. The entire Hale Pack had been keeping tabs on him since Peter left town to check on the weird magical issues that were popping up around the country.

“My report is in the file for you to review. I leave this madhouse to you until Monday.”

Tara just laughed at him as he headed out the security door on the east side of the building near evidence lockup to avoid any concerned citizens in the lobby.

He was halfway out the door when he registered Chris Argent leaning against the building, waiting. Noah seriously considered stepping back in and slamming the door shut. Eventually he just sighed and pulled the door shut behind him, making sure the lock engaged before heading for his vehicle.

“Sheriff.”

“Mr. Argent, It’s not a good idea to lurk behind the Sheriff’s station. Someone might question your intentions.”

Argent ground his teeth before pushing away from the wall to follow. “I need to know what you did to that feral.”

“Well, that would be hard to answer as we haven’t had a feral in Beacon Hills since the Argents decided to invade my county.”

“Don’t let your personal predilections influence you when it comes to Peter Hale, Sheriff. The man is dangerous.”

“Yes he is. However, there was nothing feral about his actions. I don’t personally agree with those actions. But considering his mental state when he was recovering from the attack that murdered almost his entire family, I’m willing to review the evidence. At my request, the man voluntarily submitted to a mental evaluation by a therapist in the know who confirmed that he was non compos mentos for at least a portion of his attempt to seek vengeance against those who killed his family. And we have verified that every one of them was guilty.” Noah held up his hand when Argent opened his mouth to disagree.

“The only kill for which we know he was completely in his right mind was your sister. My understanding is that you consented to that execution, so it’s not like you can stand there and claim she was a victim.” Noah unlocked his vehicle and opened the door to throw his jacket on the passenger seat.

Argent’s voice was cold and harsh, “This world isn’t as black and white as you want to it is, Sheriff. If I had been given any choice to save my sister’s life, I would have taken it. I don’t agree with what she did to the Hale family, but she should have been held accountable in a court of law, not slaughtered.”

“Right, and I’m sure the Hales would have been able to count on you and your family testifying against your sister and explaining that she broke the murder code your family lives by?” Noah shook his head, “My understanding is that the Hales gave you options and you agreed with the execution so it’s a little late to cry foul.”

“That option was to sacrifice my daughter. You’ve never had children, Sheriff. So I don’t expect you to understand what a father is willing to do to save their only child.”

“Don’t you dare try to tell me that I can’t understand a Father’s love for their child. Don’t you dare…” Noah climbed into the vehicle and slammed the door shut before he could turn around and deck Argent. “Frankly, we have more important things to do than debate recent history. The only thing you need to know is that the individual who was upset over a broken mating bond is receiving the care he needs today. You don’t get to murder someone who is out of their mind with grief. If you really want to look out for the citizens of Beacon Hills, maybe you could find out if any of your friends have heard about a peaceful family being harassed and hunted on their way to their new home.”

Noah started the engine and took off before Argent could respond. About a block from the station he spotted Joanie Mitchum headed that way and gave her a wave. She just shook her head and pointed at her watch and held up seven fingers. He acknowledged dinner time and made the turn toward home. The Hale Pack was going to kill him with kindness and right now he didn’t want to be kind. He wanted to hit something or get drunk.

He couldn’t remember if he had any beer left in the fridge, but figured it wasn’t worth the PR mess for the Sheriff to be seen buying liquor after being involved in a shooting. Even if there were no injuries. The house was dark and quiet as he unlocked the door. It was always so damn quiet these days.

Noah kicked off his shoes as he came through the door, hung up his jacket, and headed to the office to lock up his firearm. He unbuttoned his uniform shirt as he headed to the kitchen.

As he reached for the fridge a voice said softly, “You’re out of beer.”

Spinning around Noah reached for the weapon that wasn’t there. “Damn it, Derek. Is there a reason you’re sitting in the dark in my kitchen?”

“Just wanted to let you know that Peter should be back before dawn, hopefully.” Derek slid a cup of coffee across the table, so Noah had a seat opposite him. “Austin Keller, the kid from today, finally calmed down enough that we talked him out of his shift. It was good that everyone was focused on his father and didn’t notice him. He was able to tell us where his mother’s last check in was with the tribe. Peter backtracked and found them. Six out of twenty-three dead. They kept the hunters occupied and gave the rest a chance to run. He’s leading them in. Some of the pack are cleaning up the Loft for temporary housing.”

“Keller’s family?”

Derek looked down at the coffee and traced his finger around the rim. “His wife and father were among them. Austin’s grandmother and his little sister are alive. They don’t have Alphas the way we do. Their females usually the lead the tribe. So, Ida Keller is the one in charge. According to Austin, things got dangerous in Arkansas and they’ve been hounded the whole way. He has an uncle and cousin in California but he’s not sure what city.”

“Fucking hunters.” Noah slammed his palm down on the tabletop.

Derek cocked his head to the side, staring at him. “Why are you so angry?”

“You don’t think hunters are reason enough to be angry, Derek?”

“I do, but even when you smell angry you never show it. What happened?”

“Chris Argent.”

“Did he try something?” Derek slid forward as if he was about to stand.

“Yes…no.” Noah grunted in frustration. “Nothing physical. Just wanted to know where we took the Kellers and then started in about them being feral.” He took a drink of his coffee then pushed it away. He should have stopped for the beer. “Got into a disagreement about feral and Peter and then he said…”

Derek let the silence draw out a moment before he nudged, “What did he say?”

Noah felt the tears welling up in his eyes. “That I had no clue what a Father would do to save their child…” He swallowed back that pain and then looked up to Derek. “I would rip the world apart for my son. How dare he…”

“No matter what happened the day magic took Stiles at the Nemeton, he’s not gone Noah.” Derek rubbed at his chest. “I can still feel the bond with him. I’ve been talking to this Emissary I met down in Brazil. His name’s Arthur Mansford and he’s a magic historian. He knows more about nemeta than anyone I’ve met. He’s part of that group Peter has been sending information about wild magic. Anyway, he believes that there is a conscious force at work in the magic. Something or someone is trying to minimize the damage. I think that’s Stiles.”

“Maybe it is, Derek. But why can’t anyone else remember him? You, me, Peter, that’s it. Scott was his best friend since they were knee high, but he remembers nothing. His records have disappeared. His photos have disappeared. It’s like he was wiped off the face of the earth. It’s not right that my boy was erased.”

“I don’t know why. But, I believe there is a reason. I believe he is still protecting us. I mean, look at the bacon in the refridgerator.”

Noah glanced at the fridge, “What about my bacon?”

“Caleb saw you buy it at the grocery yesterday and tattled. But I look in there and you have a package of tofu marked bacon?” Derek raised an eyebrow.

“What?” Noah jumped up and opened the fridge. There in the meat drawer was tofu. “Damn, it Stiles. One day of bacon, just one.” The salad drawer suddenly shot open. “Stiles?”

“Rosemary, peppermint, and medicine,” Derek muttered.

Noah turned slowly, looking all around as if he might suddenly see his son appear. “What was that?”

“It’s his scent. There are other things in there, but that’s the part I recognize. It comes and goes,” He pointed toward the fridge, “Usually when something strange like that happens.” Derek hesitantly reached out and put a hand on Noah’s shoulder. “I told you, he’s still here. I’m not giving up on him and I won’t give up on you, either. I promised him I would take care of you.”

Noah pulled Derek in for a hug as the Alpha stiffened uncomfortably. “Thank you for that, Derek. And one day, you will all remember that I’m the adult around here.”

“Pretty sure Joannie Mitchum is the only adult in this town,” Derek muttered.

Noah gave a laugh, then squeezed Derek one more time before letting go. “That’s for damn sure. I need a shower before I head over for dinner. You need a ride?”

“Yeah. You might as well pack a bag to stay the night. Caleb has plans for you in the morning and I would rather Peter get some sleep when he gets in instead of driving around town to check on you.” Derek picked up the cups and went to the sink to wash them.

Noah started to argue then decided it wasn’t worth it. Everyone in the pack seemed dedicated to this idea that Noah and Peter were one step from marriage. He could admit he found Peter’s little seduction games fun, but neither one of them were in a place to accept an emotional connection. The sex was purely physical release. Just a little friends with benefits. And the benefit was that Peter had stamina to burn and no worries about STDs.

He showered quickly and changed into something casual. Then he threw a couple changes of clothes into a bag. Caleb Mitchum was an adorable child who seemed to exist in a cloud of sticky, greasy, dirt. And the baby, Kaylynn, had a gift of ruining at least one shirt a visit. If he didn’t know better he would swear it was a conspiracy, because he usually ended up in Peter’s shirts by the time he left.

“Noah!” Derek called from downstairs. “Joannie needs us to pick up strawberries before we come home.”

“I’m on my way.” Noah zipped the bag closed, turned off the lights, and headed downstairs.

It was well after 3:00 a.m. when Peter pulled the car into the driveway of the Hale Pack House in Beacon Hills. It seemed like he had been driving for days. All the healing in the world couldn’t combat pure exhaustion.

The side trip to find the Keller Tribe hadn’t helped. It had taken some fast talking to earn their trust and get them moving in the right direction. Only Ida Keller’s iron will had kept them from scattering to the wind following the attack by hunters. She had been relieved to know that her son and grandson still lived. It wasn’t uncommon for one to succumb to the pain of a broken mate bond no matter the species.

Peter had introduced them to the pack members who had volunteered to get the Kellers settled into the Loft, and had planned to head to Noah’s to check on him before he slept. Unfortunately Derek had left orders to return to the Pack House for the night. He wanted to disobey, but knew that the loss of tribe the Kellers had experienced were bringing up bad memories for Derek and Cora. He could understand wanting Pack close tonight.

The familiar sounds of the house at night welcomed him home. A post it note was stuck just below the hook for his keys. Welcome back. Mansford conf call 1pm. Good night. Derek

Peter exchanged his keys for the note and grabbed his bag as he headed toward his suite. Maybe he could get a few hours sleep then go check on Noah before the call.

As he entered his room, he was debating the benefits of a shower before bed when he registered he was not alone. The sound of a slow heartbeat was followed quickly by the scent of Rosemary, gun oil, coffee, sandlewood, and honey. Peter just stood there staring at Noah asleep in his bed before he felt all the tension of the last three weeks just bleed away.

Without a trace of hesitation he stripped down to his boxers and slid into bed, careful not to wake the man. It wasn’t that they didn’t sleep together when they were having sex. But they usually did that at Noah’s house. Just the thought of having him in his bed where their scents to could mix settled something deep inside.

Peter allowed himself to have this moment as he moved closer to Noah. A few minutes later Noah’s arm reached around to grab Peter’s stomach and pull him in closer. Peter let out a deep sigh of contentment as he drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Two

Peter woke alone in bed and rolled over to grab Noah’s pillow, the man’s scent calming after almost a month of dodging hunters. Ulysseys Grimshaw was right. No matter where he went, the CPI was there watching and waiting for the opportunity to out the supernatural. The feeling of being herded was strong, the hunters in the Citizen’s Protection Initiative directed the sheep in the art of pressure and manipulation against questionable individuals.

It resulted in sleeping with one eye open, always waiting for attack. Fucking hunters can’t even tell the world is falling apart around them. The last thing they needed was to worry about attacks from hunters when the magic of the world was an injured viper waiting to strike.

Peter gave himself ten more minutes of contentment before he forced himself to kick off the covers and get out of bed. He noted that Noah had already dumped the clothes from his bag into the hamper for this week’s laundry. His toiletry bag was on the counter in his ensuite. A shower before joining the family was definitely in order.

Twenty minutes later he was freshly bathed and dressed in jeans and a blue henley. He pushed up the sleeves as he left the room in search of food. The smell of grilling onions caused his mouth to water and Peter followed it to the kitchen.

“I believe I missed your cooking the most,” he smiled at Joannie Mitchum as he attempted to reach around her and steal a slice of beef from the pan.

She didn’t hesitate to smack his hand with the spatula. “Don’t be trying to sweet talk me while you teach my children bad manners, Peter Hale. Make yourself useful and throw the hoagies in the toaster oven. Hope you don’t mind philly cheesesteak for lunch, Noah asked.”

“It smells heavenly.” Peter watched as Joannie practically floated around the kitchen she had made her own. As screwed up as the world was, she was this little bubble of contentment, perfectly at peace with her life. Peter wondered if there was a path that would have given him that kind of life. He doubted it. He wasn’t raised for a life of peace, even before the Argents decided to rip his family from him. It was decided when he was a very young man that his place was the left hand. He was meant to live for the protection of the pack and to never seek love or family of his own. Traditional alphas rarely allowed the pack enforcer to have that kind of divided loyalty.

He could enjoy the hunt and the chase of a new lover. The pleasures of the body was never denied. But never for the purpose of mate, spouse, or child. Not for him. Never for him.

The slam of the back door brought him back to himself and he listened to the running feet from little Caleb Mitchum. There was something life-affirming about having children in the pack house.

“Mama! Mama! Uncle Noah said Uncle Peter is home and since I’ve been quiet all morning I get to wake him up!” It was a wonder the volume didn’t crack the windows.

Joannie exchanged a grin with Peter over Caleb’s head. “Well, Uncle Peter is home, but I think you’re a little late to wake him up.”

When his face screwed up in confusion she reached out and turned him around.

“Uncle Peter!” Caleb ran and launched himself at Peter who had to step forward to keep the boy from knocking him back into the counter.

“Caleb!” Peter spun the boy around twice before depositing him back on his feet.

“You’re home and you’re awake. You’re supposeta be sleeping so’s I can be waking you up, Uncle Peter.”

“Well, I guess we just have to blame your mother. Her cooking smelled so delicious that it just woke me up out of a dead sleep. So, obviously I am not the one at fault for preventing your sworn wake up duties.” Peter solemnly explained to the child.

He seemed to consider it then nodded. “Next time you need to sleep extra hard so’s mama’s food not wake you up.”

“I don’t believe there is anything your mother can cook that I would be able to resist.”

“Brussel Sprouts.” Caleb looked so serious as he turned to Joannie. “Mama, next time you haves to cook brussel sprouts so’s Uncle Peter can sleep a long, long times until I cans wake him up.”

She held back the laughter, though Peter could see it in her eyes. “OK, it’s a deal. Tomorrow I will cook only brussel sprouts so Peter can sleep. Of course, that means tomorrow we all have to eat a lot of brussel sprouts.”

Peter almost lost it over the look of horror on Caleb’s face.

“Now go wash up. Lunch is almost ready.”

They waited until the boy dragged his feet out of the kitchen before giving in to the giggles.

An hour later they were well fed and Joannie was headed out to pick up offerings from various pack members. She had spent her morning coordinating a care package for the Keller Tribe. She was ruthlessly using her children to put the newcomers at ease.

Cora was, of course, at school this time of day. The only good that that came of the recent influx of supernatural families was that Cora had slotted in with several other teens at the school who understood her circumstances. She wasn’t alone and she kept an eye on the other kids to make sure no one was out of control. She had also been able to spot Lydia Martin’s emerging banshee abilities. As an apology for biting her when he wasn’t quite himself, Peter had the Hale attorney, Carson McCray, hire a banshee to tutor the girl for the next year. He also settled an education trust on the girl because Lydia was nothing if not mercenary.

Peter was in the home office, setting up the video meeting when Noah and Derek entered with a carafe of coffee and accoutrements. They barely had time to fix a cup and sit before the flat screen tv they were using as a display came to life. Several people were already in the virtual meeting space.

“There you are, Peter.” Arthur Mansford, Emissary of the Santos Pack tapped against the camera on his computer. “I was worried when you didn’t make it in during the last meeting.”

“Arthur, no need to worry. Where I was at in Nova Scotia didn’t have a signal,” Peter continued to prepare the files for the meeting, “Or time to do anything but evade hunters.”

“Peter?”

He glanced toward Noah and then gave him a half grin. “I’m fine. Honestly their recruits are lacking in discipline and dedication. They were easily distracted and squabbled like children when deciding the correct course of action.”

“I agree,” Alpha Tibedeaux from Baton Rouge made a motion to the side. “It is clear which ones were recruited from the CPI and which are trained hunters. They’re not even training them, honestly.”

“That was patently clear. I was chased and harassed, yet only twice did I feel I was in danger of more than threats and minor injuries. I spoke to a bear shifter in Colorado who said that it feels like the hunters are using the CPI to track us and herd us. That statement feels true.”

Noah nodded, “Here in Beacon Hills there has been little violence within the County borders. Well, nothing much since Gerard Argent left to start is national kickoff to expand the Citizens Protection Initiative into all 50 states. The hunters that remain, supposedly under Chris Argents control, are focused more on bullying and making sure the supernatural among us know they are still around.”

“Exactly,” Peter pointed at Noah. “Everywhere I went it teetered between deeply intrusive harassment and just overly watchful neighbors. The most egregious areas were almost bereft of our kind. I’ve learned those who reside in those zones were hounded and threatened with exposure unless they left. Those that remained are victims of constant accidents and increased surveillance.”

Derek stared at him a moment. “Like the ones coming to Beacon Hills. They’ve all been driven from their homes.”

Alpha Santos looked concerned, “We have heard stories from Packs throughout Brazil. Where this CPI florishes, there is trouble for all who are not completely human. But, beyond the watchers, we have had no trouble in the city.”

Noah shrugged, “The trouble with a heavy urban environment is that the population density works against you in this situation. The fewer the people, the more likely that they are all up in everyone else’s business. I want to know what’s happening in Beacon Hills, I just need to head over to the Tuesday Book Club. Trust me, the last thing those old biddies are doing is reading books. Taking book on who’s sleeping with who, sure.”

Peter raised an eyebrow at Noah and then felt himself blush when Noah just nodded confirmation that the two of them were fodder for the ladies.

“In a city most are willfully blind. I know the CPI has a thousand and one public service announcements about being aware of people and things in your envirnment, but most survive by keeping their heads down.”

Derek slouched down in his chair and muttered something unintelligible before he realized everyone was looking at him and shrugged. The problem is those public service announcements are really just ongoing lessons on how to identify supernaturals.”

That set off a lot of noise from all sides regarding the implications of the CPI outting the supernatural.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Arthur Mansford called out to gain order. Once everyone was quiet. “I agree the hunters ongoing crusade is disturbing, but I think we are all here because of a greater danger to us all. I have been in constant contact with my fellow emissaries throughout South America and we have confirmed a disturbing trend. We have three nemeta within our boundaries. Instead of releasing magic into the environment, they seem to be absorbing it. Plants are dead or dying. Wildlife has abandoned the area if they were not caught in one of the random magic storms and killed.”

“That’s consistent with what I witnessed with one exception.” Peter shared the photos from his screen. “The nemeta in Nova Scotia, Louisianna, and Mexico are doing the same. I didn’t see the one in Mexico personally, but since it is located in the Monarch Butterfly preserve, it is protected by the humans. The scientists there believe there is some unidentified disease affecting the plants.”

Arthur pitched in, “I have some contacts in the scientific community there and have gained access to their internal forum. As any good scientist would be, they are firmly entrenched in finding a logical explanation for the damage. But they are keeping excellent records of the spread of the infection.”

Alpha Tibedeaux huffed, “The scientists seem to be everywhere, trying to explain away all of the weird activity around the world. Extinct volcanos showing activity, unusual migrations of sea life, the rapid reduction of salinity in the Great Salt Lake. I doubt a single one of them could be made to see that magic is to blame.”

“As long as the humans want to keep their heads in the sand when it comes to magic, I’m all for it.” One of the druids from Europe piped up. There were three of them and Peter never paid attention to their names. He had a personal issue with druids, he was able to admit. But since their local representative was unwilling to participate in this discussion, Peter generally chose not to engage. The man continued, “They are still trying to explain away the falling airplane and no-fly zones with science. They all have a theory on what’s happening and all kinds of equipment to gather data. Some of their ideas are amusing. I’ve heard a theory about the Bermuda Triangle creating additional triangles around the globe. It has not been televised as much, but ocean travel has met with some unusual occurrence lately.”

Attempting to redirect, Peter stepped in, “Scientific inquiry aside…While the destruction around the nemeta are a disturbing symptom, what sent me on my recent trip was just the opposite. In locations around the U.S. where ley lines cross or tangle, magic is pooling. Otherwise natural resources without any kind of supernatural origin are suddenly infused with magic.” Peter pulled up a map and highlighted seventeen of the roughly 56 locations. “There is no rhyme or reason for these locations. There is nothing special about them. They are not any given distance from a nemeton. They are not on any specific line between two points that have a known value to us. They are just there. One day we have a normal, naturally occurring hot spring and the next day it is steaming with magic so strong it seems alive in the steam above it.”

“Nile Foster from the U.K. here,” A voice announced. “I would think with the way the nemeta are pulling in the magic at their locations that it would need to find other outlets. Is there a problem with allowing the magic to dissipate into the world from their locations? The important thing is for the cleansing and renewal to happen, so do we really care as long as it is happening.”

“That is a very good point, Mr. Foster, however the magic isn’t dissipating. It’s just pooling.”

That launched a fierce discussion on the methods in which magic can be stored and the fact that short of a ritual or nemeton there was no consistent way to do so without it bleeding through.

“Mr. Hale, you mentioned there was an exception to the death around the nemeta?”

“Yes.” Peter looked over at Noah and then took a breath. “The nemeton here in Beacon Hills is behaving oddly as well, but it isn’t absorbing the magic around it. Instead it seems to be cycling quickly through the seasons around it.”

“You mean like time is speeding up around it?”

“In the manner that you can watch the seasons pass over the course of a day or a week? Sure. It’s not consistent how long it takes for the cycle to complete, but it is blatant. However, I’m not confident with saying time is changing. Nothing is aging or growing exactly. Everything remains at the same age, it’s just the leaves grow, expand, wither, die, and fall. Once the trees are bare, it repeats the cycle. But not even the grass has grown an inch in that time.” Peter showed a time elapsed video taken around the Nemeton to demonstrate then released the screen to view everyone again.

Arthur looked thoughtful in the silence that followed. “Derek has shared with me the event that took place at the Nemeton and I have had time to consider the significance. I believe we need to share this information with everyone. Peter, if you could lead us through what happened.”

Peter looked to Noah who turned away from the camera before motioning for Peter to speak. “For those who are not aware, years ago Argent Hunters trapped most of the Hale Pack in our home with mountain ash and set the house on fire. Only a few of us survived. I was personally in a coma for six years and awoke damaged and intent on revenge. Frankly it was my only goal after reliving the fire continuously. The particulars are not germane to today. Suffice it to say my nephew agreed to assist me in completing my vendetta if I agreed to relinquish the Hale alpha spark to him upon completion. Derek was born with the Hale Alpha Mark, so even in my damaged state I could acknowledge that the power belonged to him.”

Peter shook away the memory. “Unknown to us at the time, Derek had a mate. The young man in question was named…”

“Is named,” Derek growled, his eyes flashing red.

With only a slight hesitation, Peter nodded, “Is named Mieczyslaw Stilinski. He goes by Stiles. He was present when the power transfer took place and he received a mate mark.”

Alpha Santos’ voice was filled with awe as she looked toward Derek, “Your mate is a spark? But you traveled without him.”

“Due to the ongoing events at the time, Mr. Stilinski’s age, and the fact no one was aware of his magical status, we isolated him from the supernatural as much as we could. We thought it was for his protection. Little did we know that he was being torn apart by an incomplete mating bond and a nemeton entering a period of renewal.”

“Dios!”

“As far as we know, the nemeton pulled him in. We followed his trail to the clearing in time to see him trapped within a magic field. When the magic discharged it appeared that his body was subsumed by the magic. Nothing remained but ash. Strangely, the only people present who could remember he existed was myself and Noah. All memory of him has been removed along with all records and evidence. Not a photo, birth certificate, or piece of his clothing remained.” Peter glanced toward Derek.

Derek took a long breath. “I didn’t remember at first. I kept having dreams about him. Strange dreams, as if we grew up together even though I don’t remember meeting him until I returned to Beacon Hills. I didn’t actually remember Stiles until the plane fell. It was like the plane was in a river of wild magic and just fell from the sky. We all blacked out and I had a dream of Stiles practicing levitation. When I woke up the plane was hovering above the tarmac and I could smell Stiles’ scent. Over the next week everywhere I went in town I was getting flashes of memory until it all just came back to me.”

“You believe his consciousness still exists within the magical currents of the world?”

“I’m certain of it.” Peter glanced over at Noah again to see how he was holding up. The man had his Sheriff face firmly in place, but Peter could smell the pain pouring off the man. “All of the pools of magic I personally visited have the Hale Triskelion someplace in or near them. Several times I could pick up Stiles’ scent mixed with the magic. I asked others to describe the scent and consistently they confirmed what I was smelling. Now, I realize that it could be a coincidence. But a consistent coincidence across that many states? I don’t think so.”

The room erupted in discussion with everyone speaking over everyone else. As he tried to keep track of everyone’s input, Peter noted Noah slipping out the door. The intense scent of sorrow remained.

Three hours later Peter tracked down Noah at the Stilinski house. Peter could hear the washing machine running and the steady clink of dishes as Noah unloaded the dishwasher and put everything away. He didn’t bother knocking when he entered the house. He gave that up when Noah insisted he use a key instead of picking the lock or climbing through a window.

He just sat quietly at the kitchen table waiting for the man to acknowledge him. He didn’t until the last item was stored.

“Verdict?” Noah was so tense it looked like he would snap if he tried to move.

Peter considered his answer. “Mansford and several others are coming to Beacon Hills. Should start arriving this week. There was a lot of talk. God do those people like to hear themselves talk. But in the end, Arthur decided to withhold any speculation until he can examine our nemeton personally.”

Noah tossed aside the dish towel and pulled out a chair from the table. “So, we don’t know if they can save Stiles yet.”

“As long as we believe, I have to think there is a chance.” He sighed at the grimace on Noah’s face. “Let’s give them the opportunity to examine it themselves and hopefully something will come to them. The important thing is I was able to gather enough evidence that they believe that Stiles exists.”

“I’m not doing well with all of this waiting around bullshit. It feels like the longer we do nothing, the more likely that nothing we do will work.”

“Far be it for me to be the one extolling the value of patience, but when it comes to magic it is rarely wise to jump in without understanding what is happening. The repercussions are unpleasant.” Peter leaned back and rapped his knuckles against the table.

“That sounds like the voice of experience.”

“When I first awoke from my coma, I didn’t realize how my actions were controlled by instinct instead of conscious thought. Laura was regrettably pure instinct. So was McCall for that matter. That boy is honestly nothing but regret for me. Even when Derek agreed to assist me in exchange for the Alpha spark, it was just a means to an end. I had an instinctive need to remove the danger to the pack. It was Stiles that jumpstarted the true healing.” Peter winced at the thought and gave Noah a wry grin.

“Kate Argent had taken Derek prisoner and I needed help finding him. I took Stiles from the school dance to assist me. After he helped under duress, I offered him the bite. He was strong and intelligent. I knew he would make an excellent pack mate. Why I offered instead of just biting him, I’m not sure. But he turned me down. He wanted to belong, but he refused to follow me as his Alpha.” Peter barked out a laugh, “Which makes sense considering he’s an alpha mate. The part of me that was human was pulled forward when he turned me down. I suddenly had control and my focus shifted from destroying Kate to saving Derek.”

“And yet you still killed Kate.”

“Of course I did. She was a threat to the continued survival of my Pack. Whether I was the Alpha or the Pack Enforcer, the survival of my pack is all that mattered.” Peter smiled broadly, “Oh, I will readily agree that I took great pleasure in ending her miserable existence. But that was completely human pleasure. It wasn’t about instinct any longer.”

Noah just shook his head with that expression that says, would you people remember I’m the Sheriff? “And what does that have to do with the repercussions of magic?”

Peter got up to pull the half pitcher of lemonade from the refrigerator and pour them both a glass. He put it away before he returned to the table. “Lydia Martin. I could sense the death magic in the girl before I bit her. She was latent and could have lived her entire life that way. Now that choice is out of her hands and she is awakening as a Banshee. I’ve done what I can to see she is trained and shielded from the worst of it.”

Noah took a drink and made a face before speaking. “I’ve spoken with them. They don’t want you anywhere near her, but agreed to the settlement. It was a good thing to do.”

“Don’t mistake my actions for altruism, Noah. I regret altering the girl without her consent. But, the regret is more for myself than for her. The two of us are linked now. For an Alpha to force a bond with a Banshee is unthinkable. Even though I am no longer an alpha, the link between us still exists.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means there is a tether between us. She can draw on my life-force in ritual and I have no control over it. It also means that if I die, she can call me back from beyond the veil as long as I have a body to return to. The price of both actions is high and without a great deal of training we would be risking our lives and sanity to do it.”

“Well, that’s not terrifying. You didn’t plan that?”

“Allowing my continued life and sanity to be placed in the hands of a capricious teenager? Are you smoking something?”

Noah laughed, “Is there a way to break that bond?”

“Not unless you know how to reverse time so that I don’t bite her and awaken her true nature.” Peter took a drink with one hand and waved the idea away with his other. “I refuse to live my life focusing on my regrets. This bond is the least of the things I would change if given the chance.”

Noah kept an eye on the path as he sat down on the fallen tree and removed his shoe. A twig had snagged on his sock and worked it’s way down beside his ankle. It was rubbing him raw and had just broken off when he tried to pull it out. He pulled off his sock and checked that it hadn’t broken the skin before putting on the sock and replacing the shoe. This time he made sure to lace it all the way up to the ankle and double wrap the laces.

He tested the flex to make sure it was on right, then removed the other shoe to fix the laces on that one as well. Noah noted that the sound of his follower had stopped soon after he did and sighed. Well, he was about done with this farce.

“I’m going to be a moment if you need to pass me.” He called out down the path.

There was a moment of hesitation before the sound resumed. It was less than a minute before the form of Alan Deaton emerged from the trail.

“Sheriff Stilinski, you haven’t injured yourself I hope.” Deciding if it was a question or a statement was impossible, as if the man speaking refused to commit himself in either direction. Alan appeared pleasantly concerned. But then he appeared pleasantly everything no matter the situation.

“No injuries, just fixing my laces.” Noah looked down as he started to relace the shoe. “Don’t let me interrupt your walk.”

“Be assured I do not find you an interruption. It’s a pleasant day for a leisurely walk.” The man placed his hands behind his lower back and seemed prepared to stand there forever.

“Take a lot of leisurely walks out here, do you?”

“I find that there is a certain balance in nature that is rarely found among mankind without intervention.” Deaton looked at him as if examining something strange. “Don’t you agree, Sheriff?”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. Humanity isn’t by any means fair, but we find our own kind of balance in existing.”

“Surely as an officer of the law you realize that you have to intervene in order to restore balance to the town on a regular basis.”

“Well, see, I believe that what I do is just a natural function of civilization. By performing my job duties I’m just fulfilling the role I’m destined to play. I’m not restoring balance, just participating in the natural cycle.” Noah grinned at the man who looked disgruntled. It was only around the eyes, the rest of his face was a study in pleasant conversation.

Deaton continued to stare at Noah as if examining him. Well, yeah, that was creepy enough. Noah just wanted him to move on. “Was there something out of balance that you think needs the law to intervene as you said?”

“There are many issues in the world that could use intervention. None that human law can assist at this time.” Deaton looked down the path, “It has come to my attention that several magic users will be entering this territory soon.”

“I’ve heard that’s the case.” Noah put on the shoe and tied it.

“With magic behaving so erratically, perhaps it is unwise to gather so many near a nemeton.”

“It’s not really my place to say, but I would think with all of the crazy magic stuff that inviting the experts to examine the nemeton is an excellent idea. After all, they would be the ones most likely to come up with a plan to restore that balance you like.” Noah stood and shrugged. “But don’t mind me. I wouldn’t want to ruin your nature walk with this stuff.”

Noah took a few steps when Deaton called out, “Sheriff, if you are headed to the nemeton, perhaps it would be a good idea for me to accompany you.”

“That’s ok, I know the way just fine. If you want to go, I can’t stop you. But, I prefer to make the walk alone myself.” Noah headed out at a jog before the vet could reply.

He could swear he heard as he lost sight of the man behind him, “I would but I can’t seem to find it any longer.”

Chapter Three

Noah looked up at the tap on the passenger side window. He allowed himself a moment to fantasize aiming his weapon and pulling the trigger on the man. Then he remembered he was an officer of the law and the law frowned on that kind of thing. He must have considered it longer than he thought because Argent made this annoyed face and knocked again.

With a sigh, Noah rolled down the window. “How can I help you, Mr. Argent?”

“We need to talk.”

Noah glanced toward the deputies handling crowd control and taking statements from witnesses, then noted the cruiser with one prisoner and the van with the other six. “You know I am not able to discuss an ongoing investigation, Mr. Argent. And even though I am taking all parties into custody, I’m sure you are already aware that we have already retrieved video evidence that your Citizen’s Protection Initiative…what do you call them?…oh, yeah, your CPI Strike Force started the altercation and refused to disengage. Refused even when their victim and my officers, I might add, repeatedly requested they do so.”

“If that is the case and this was not self-defense as I’m sure you will eventually determine, then the CPI can deal with this issue internally.” Argent grimaced as he said it.

Yeah, Noah thought. You don’t buy that either. “I’m sure retraining would be helpful, but it’s not in the public’s interest to see vigilantes get away with crimes against our good, honest citizens.”

“Look, Sheriff, I’m not here to argue with you about a barroom brawl.” Argent reached in and opened the door, then slipped in and rolled up the window.

Noah saw Parrish look their way and make a hand signal asking if Noah needed assistance. As much as he might like to have his deputies haul the man out of the vehicle, he shook off the sign and then resolved himself to listen to the man.

Argent shifted in the seat. “It has come to my attention that Archdruid Winston Beresford and the U.S. High Witch, Raven Albrecht, have arrived in town as guests of the Hale Pack.”

Noah kept watch out the front window. “Honestly, Mr. Argent, I don’t believe it is the business of the CPI who the Hales invite to their home.”

“No, you’re right. The CPI keeps an eye out for questionable individuals, but we can’t stop someone from inviting those people in. However, it is the Argent’s business to know…”

Noah jerked around and pointed a finger at Argent. “I’m going to cut you off right there before you say something that I have to take official notice of. I will tell you this once, and only once. So it is in your best interest to take notes. The Argents have one business in this town, that is Argent Arms. You have an interest in the CPI, but that is not a business and if it is then we are going to be reporting some tax issues. Regardless, neither of those activities involve the Argent family tracking, watching, taking note of, or otherwise engaged in behavior toward the Hale Family that could be interpreted as stalking. So if you want to tell me that it is your family’s business to stalk the Hale family, then I am going to be forced to arrest you.”

Argent was grinding his teeth by the time Noah finished. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly before he started again. “Sheriff, I’m not the enemy here. I just think you should be aware of the danger of having two of the most powerful magic users in the Northern Hemisphere in a place as active as Beacon Hills. I understand the desire to consult the Archdruid. But, keep in mind that druids are interested in their vision of Balance to the exclusion of all else. He will side with the animals in an instant if he thinks it suits his purpose.”

Before Noah could protest he plowed on, “And Albrecht is a known force of chaos. She will hex you as soon as help you. And you wouldn’t know the difference before it’s too late. Now, I realize that your introduction to the supernatural didn’t go smoothly. We never had the opportunity to educate you on the reality that exists out there. You’re hip deep with them now. When they finally turn on you, and they will, I sincerely hope you survive with your humanity intact. Come find me and I will make sure you know the truth about your friends.”

“Mr. Argent, the day my truth is found through the mouth of a murdering racist, is the day I eat my weapon. I think you need to get out of this vehicle before I decide there is a reason to have you held.” Noah glared at Chris until the man opened the door and stepped out.

“I’m going to have to report the arrival of your magic users.”

“You do what you need to do, Mr. Argent. But if any harm befalls one of them for any reason. If one of them stubs their toe while in the general vicinity of a member of the CPI, then I will be coming for you.” Noah reached over to grab the door. “Just a friendly warning, Mr. Argent.”

He slammed the door then hit the locks before starting the engine. Noah didn’t even give Argent another glance as he signaled his officers and drove away.

Peter checked his watch and sighed. Noah was late for dinner again. He contemplated tracking the man down and forcing him to the Pack House, but they were trying to downplay the importance of their visitors. While an impromptu dinner party in their part of town barely registered a blip on the busy-body scale, the CPI took notice. Peter had called Deputy Jordan Parrish three times so far to chase away the watchers who were trying to get pictures of everyone that entered the home.

Only one had stupidly stood their ground, and now they were spending the evening in the County Lockup for whatever charge Jordan thought would stick. At least he was able to review the photos. Peter detested the invasion of privacy, but there was no way he was letting the hunters know it disturbed him.

Craig Mitchum, beta in the Hale Pack, slipped into the dining room, where Peter was ostensibly checking that everything was ready. Of course, since Craig’s wife, Jeannie, ruled the kitchens Craig was intimately familiar with the arrangements. He just gave Peter an eyebrow then looked at the phone that Peter had started to slip out of sight.

“Is he ditching?”

“I’ve been unable to reach him.” Peter glanced at the phone then slid it into a pocket. “In his defense, he did warn that he was two officers down today. But he promised that even if he had to return to work, he would take at least two hours for dinner.”

“I wish we could supplement the force with some more shifters.” Craig moved over to adjust a couple of the plates that were out of line. Might have been due to Peter’s fiddling with them, but there was no proof of that. “But the City Council is being tight fisted with any funds. Keeps going on about how much good the CPI is doing.”

“It probably doesn’t hurt that Gerard Argent has bought off about sixty percent of the City Council,” Peter grumbled. The ringing of his phone interrupted the train of thought. “Noah.”

“Sorry, running a bit late but I’m on my way. I know I have a change of clothes there, but do I have a uniform?” Noah asked, sounding a bit distracted.

“Yes, you have the one Joannie patched after Caleb had his first claws.” Peter wondered what had happened to the man’s current uniform.

“Good. Look, I just have to double check our coverage and see that these get into holding, then I will be right there for a shower and dinner. About twenty-five minutes if I speed. Can you make sure the shower is ready for me and a path where I don’t disturb the guests.”

“Noah, what in the world happened?”

“Just get the clothes.” There was a click and then the silence of a disconnected line.

Peter stared at the phone a moment before he shook himself. “Well, it appears I have received my orders. Please let Joannie know that Noah will be arriving within the half hour and then may need a few minutes to make himself presentable.”

“Will do. I’ll have her start with the soup in thirty. That should give Noah time to join us before anything substantial.” Craig turned to leave.

Heading into the living room, Peter gave a nod here and there acknowledging people without engaging in conversation. As he reached the stairs he looked over toward where Derek was in conversation with Archdruid Beresford and Arthur Mansford. The two men were well acquainted and had been swaping stories all day. Peter caught Derek’s eye and then made a motion toward his watch and upstairs. Derek just nodded and whispered, “We can wait for Noah.” Should have known Derek was listening in on the call.

Peter checked the closet and located Noah’s uniform. Joannie had done an excellent job hiding the rips where Caleb’s claws had punctured the material. While shifter children were frequently born with enhanced senses, they didn’t normally receive any of the shift until sometime between seven and nine. Caleb was clearly an overachiever. All he had so far were the claws, but those were dangerous enough. Luckily Noah had talked him down from that tantrum like a pro and didn’t even receive a scratch.

He ran through the remainder of the clothing and found something suitable for dinner. They were keeping things casual enough that everyone could take the time to get to know one another.

The sound of Noah’s heartbeat approaching along with the unmistakable footfalls brought Peter back from where he was gathering wool. He started speaking before exiting the closet.

“I’ve got your towel, wash cloth, shampoo, and soap ready to go. I’ll leave your clothes on the bed and hang your uniform on the hook over the door for you. Why did you need to change…” Peter trailed off as he took in Noah’s appearance.

The man was covered head to toe in bright blue. A sickly sweet odor permeated everything. Peter recognized that odor from the gas station closest to Beacon High School. It was an obnoxious blue raspberry slushie they sold non-stop when school was in session. Peter just hoped to God that those kids didn’t really drink that stuff.

“What happened to you?”

“I would really rather not talk about it.” Noah headed for the bathroom and started stripping down as soon as his feet hit tile. He was throwing the uniform in the sink as each piece came off.

“Oh, no. A blue sheriff requires a little explanation.” Peter leaned against the wall and crossed one ankle over the other. The perfect pose of patient waiting.

Noah glared at Peter then sighed as he removed the duty belt. He bent over to untie his shoes then held onto the counter as he kicked them off.

Peter took a moment to appreciate the man’s back side as he slipped off the pants and boxers. He had an itch in his fingers to reach out and touch, but no desire to allow his pristine white button up to touch that blue monstrosity.

Wasting no time, Noah stepped into the shower. He washed his hair twice before speaking. “There was a callout to that convenience store near the high school. 9-1-1 reports said someone inside was screaming about monsters. Got there to find the perpetrator extremely aggressive and high on an unidentified substance. He was holding the clerks and four customers hostage. I tried to talk to him, but he didn’t respond well to male authority figures. So had Tara try to talk him down while I led a few officers into the store through the back door.”

Noah cursed under his breath about blue dye and Peter just smiled as he reached into the cabinet and pulled out his salt scrub which Noah consistently mocked him for having. He cracked the shower door and held it there until Noah broke down and took it.

“So, you led your team into the store.”

“We split up to cover him and were waiting for an opening. He was devolving and I was pretty sure we would have to take him out in a body bag. Tara was trying to talk him into releasing a couple of the hostages when he started ranting about the monsters and he had his arm around a clerk’s throat and a gun to her head. She was starting to claw at his arm because she couldn’t breath, so I gave the order to open fire if there was an opening. It was obvious he didn’t even know he was killing her, but he wasn’t going to stop.”

The shower shut off and Peter handed Noah a towel before stepping back. After a moment of vigorous towel drying, the door opened and Noah stepped out with the towel wrapped around his hips.

“So, I gave the order to shoot to kill to save that hostage.”

Peter acknowledged the statement and confirmed his agreement. “Of course you did. Even if he was high enough he didn’t understand what he was doing, he made a choice to get high and was a danger to the hostages. If he had her by the neck like that, it would have been nothing for him to just break it instead of strangling her. You obviously determined that in your judgment the likelihood of defusing the situation was minuscule and the lives of the victims had to be protected.”

“Right. So we were all looking for options and I had made my way over near the drink station. I was using space between the machines to aim. I radioed Tara to get him to face the window again so that I could have a clear shot.” Noah paused speaking as he pulled the shirt on over his head.

“So Tara got him to face the window?” Peter asked. “I’ve seen your performance on the range so I know you can take that shot. What happened?”

Noah grimaced, “Scott McCall.”

Peter couldn’t control his reaction to that. “And how did my mutinous moment of misjudgment become involved in this situation?”

“Scott was one of the hostages.”

Peter felt his eyes flash as he asked, “He wasn’t responsible for the cry of monster was he?” If that boy was revealing his nature to mundanes he was going to rip him apart personally, no matter what Noah or Derek said.

“Not sure. I had Tara grab the security recording for evidence, but left instructions to hold it for me to view first. All I know for now is that when I gave the order to shoot, Scott jumps up, looks over toward my position, and calls out ‘You don’t have to kill him, Sheriff!’ At which point the perp turned and fired 3 into the slushie machine over my head.” Noah shook his head and dropped the towel to finish getting dressed.

Peter felt a bubble of fear war with the anger. “You’re lucky he missed you.”

“I’m lucky he was high enough that he didn’t consider I wouldn’t be standing up. Parrish tackled Scott out of the way while Marks took the shot. I had to wait for the coroner to finish before I could leave. Marks is writing his statement then he will be on administrative leave for a couple days. Everyone else is working on statements for now. Tara is in charge, but I’ll have to go back after dinner and finish my report.”

With a deep breath, Peter reached out to take Noah’s hand and pull him toward the door. “Well, you should have plenty of time for dinner. You can give everyone time to calm down, then we go visit Mr. McCall tomorrow to make sure he is behaving. He may believe that the Argents and the CPI can take the place of a pack, but he is deluding himself. I will not have the supernatural world outted by a teenage Romeo wannabe.”

Noah waited at the entrance to the Preserve closest to the Nemeton. It was just before dawn and there was just enough light to make out all the shapes. The dinner the night before had been relaxed and a nice way to get to know everyone. He had been pleased to be included and even more so to have Derek introduce him as part of the Pack. He wasn’t sure if it was just because of the odd relationship he had with Peter or because of Derek’s feelings about Stiles, but it was nice to feel supported and connected in that way.

Dinner conversation was kept light and, unfortunately, Noah had to return to work before any deeper discussions took place. So he didn’t know what the plan was for today past them all having a look at the Nemeton. But Archdruid Beresford, just call me Beres, was insistent that Noah hike out there with them.

Going to the Nemeton had become at least a weekly occurrence for Noah. Even with the weirdly cycling seasonal thing it had going on, the Nemeton was the place Noah felt closest to Stiles. It was the last place he saw his son alive, so the first couple times he went all he could do was cry. But it was better than the devastated nothingness that had existed before.

He had finally started to come to terms with the absence of Stiles in his life when a plane carrying Derek and Cora Hale fell from the sky and was mysteriously caught and deposited on the tarmac. Suddenly Derek’s memories of Stiles were returned along with the Alpha’s confidence that Stiles still existed. That Stiles had saved him and was still looking out for them.

Cars started arriving and Noah went to the back to grab his daypack. He had some water, snacks, and a first aid kit because you never knew in Beacon Hills. He took his time getting ready and then joined them at the start of the trail.

Peter was slow getting out of the vehicle and approached Noah with a particularly self-satisfied grin. From behind his back he pulled out a coffee cup and a paper bag from Perpetual Sunrise, their favorite deli in town.

Taking a drink from the coffee, Noah waited as Peter pulled something out of the bag. “Bacon and egg on cheddar bagel? You are now my favorite.” Noah said with a smile as he made grabby hands at the bagel. There was a bit of snickering but Noah ignored it because it’s bacon, damn it.

Arthur Mansford was practically vibrating in place with his excitement to be on his way. Noah had sat across from him for dinner and the man was a veritable fount of information on magic and nemeta. Noah had known that in theory, but to hear it in practice was a different matter. His excitement for his chosen subject reminded Noah of Stiles so it had instantly endeared the man to him, even if Arthur was old enough to be his grandfather. It was good that they made that connection, because Noah suspected the man was a morning person and that was just annoying.

Beresford was pleasant but very, very dry. Little seemed to affect the man. Noah could appreciate that attitude. It was something he drilled into his officers. He was the type of man you wanted at your back during a crisis.

Raven Albrecht had a full thermos of coffee, a pair of dark sunglasses, and a don’t fuck with me expression that was sort of amusing. The woman was five feet tall in her dreams and wore a riot of colors. According to Peter, the High Witch was the powerhouse magic user of the bunch, though they all had their strengths.

Their little retinues appeared content to follow along. All had been introduced to the Pack, but Noah hadn’t been present for that part. He figured he would pick up names as he needed them.

“Alright, Beres, you are the one who said we needed to start this journey at dawn of all the unholy hours,” Albrecht called out. “So let’s get this party started.”

“Yes, let’s,” Arthur pulled his strap and motioned toward the trail. “Sheriff, if you would lead us out.”

Noah had just raised the bagel to his mouth and stopped to turn and look at the man. “Me?”

“Yes. Nemeta are notoriously difficult to locate without a connection. Peter and Derek have both expressed that they are successful in locating it nine times out of ten. The magic of such nodes hides them to protect them. Even a Pack with a close bond to a nemeton cannot always locate it.” Arthur motioned toward Noah, “Yet I am told that you visit it regularly and have never been turned away.”

“It’s a tree stump.” Noah was just confused. Yes he believed in magic. He’s seen some strange things since he learned of the supernatural. “A really big tree stump.” But a hidden tree stump? Come on, he’s there all the freaking time.

Beresford stepped forward and looked him in the eye, “I assure you it is so much more than that. I can feel the energy in the preserve but it is spread across a region too broad to search. You, however, resonate with that energy in a very specific way. So, let’s seek to use the tools we have available. Would you please lead us to the Nemeton, Noah?”

Noah glanced toward Peter and Derek. Peter shrugged and Derek gave one nod in approval. Breathing out a huff of air, Noah took a bite of his bagel and then set off down the path.

“I honestly don’t understand anything about all of this…this magic stuff.” Noah led the way down the wide path toward the Nemeton. It was honestly a twenty minute walk from the car with a clear, easy to navigate path the whole way.

“Magic exists. It doesn’t require understanding to exist. It is honestly the life’s blood of this planet. Science occassionally crosses boundaries and attempts to quantify it without knowing what it is, new discoveries every day touch on the edges of what magic is. But some concepts the human mind is not ready to grasp. So those who are able to use magic hide it from them. And some locations, like nemeta, have a limited sentience to hide themselves,” Beresford  explained as he stayed a half-step behind Noah.

“You don’t worry about them discovering it?” Noah followed the split onto the larger trail.

“I wouldn’t say that. We worry they will discover too much, too fast. In the right hands, it can be slowly introduced. Things that can be explained through science, we allow those things to be learned. People feel more comfortable with a thing if they can understand it, control it. And we feel better if we can control who makes these discoveries.”

“That’s not always possible. Look at the San Fran Plane. They are still trying to explain what happened with science. Some of them militantly trying to prove their theories,” Peter pointed out from the other side.

Beresford raised one hand in acknowledgment. “Yes, and while that is not ideal, at least they are focused on their science. They quickly discredited the idea that anyone onboard the plane was involved as it was documented through interior cams that everyone was unconscious at least until the cams failed just before landing.”

“It’s in our best interest that they keep looking for their rational explanations,” Albrecht piped up from the middle of the group, “and leave the supernatural out of the picture.”

“Agreed.” Noah took them around the next bend in the trail before stepping through the trees and into the Nemeton’s clearing. The leaves looked like it was late fall. Browns and yellows with most of them laying on the ground. A little sparkle of light seemed to flicker through the branches of the trees surrounding the clearing.

“Well, fuck!”

“Crude yet appropriate, Raven.” Beresford took two steps closer, his hands out as if trying to feel something in the air in front of him.

Arthur gave a whimper when he saw the sight. “Who would do such a thing?” He looked at Derek before turning back toward the stump.

Derek motioned Peter to respond. Peter just shrugged before walking a little closer. “My memories of the Nemeton are unclear. I remember my mother bringing me here to picnic when I was a child. The tree was huge. Taller than anything around it with branches reaching out over this entire clearing. After my mother died and Talia became Alpha, my memories of this part of the preserve are blurred. I know I came here after it was cut down, but I’m not sure why. So when it was cut down and why, I do not know.”

“Well, we know when it was cut down,” Arthur stated as he moved past Beresford to approach the stump. He reached out to touch it when a shimmer of magic surrounded it and he pulled back. “Interesting.”

“Quite,” Beresford stated as he joined Arthur.

Albrecht snorted, “That’s all you have to say to that?” She tossed a rock at the Nemeton and it bounced back. Then she walked over to a nearby bush and snapped off a twig with leaves. She threw it at the stump and it passed through. “So, living matter is allowed in.”

Arthur reached for the stump slowly and halted as his hand pushed against the barrier. “Well, it’s not hurting me but I’m not allowed to touch it.”

Everyone moved closer to the stump, examining it in whatever way they had. Noah just watched them waving hands and objects around it. It wasn’t the strangest thing he had seen that week. As he watched he replayed their conversation in his head.

“Mr. Mansford?” Noah didn’t want to intrude but he was curious about something. “You said you knew when the Nemeton was cut down. When? And, how can you know that if the Hales don’t even know?”

“Please, it’s Arthur. And the answer to your question is easy. When was your son born, Noah?”

“April 8, 1992.”

“That is the day this node received terminal damage. There are more nemeta in our world than most know exist. Most Hunters believe there are seven, but that is simply not true. They are protected and hidden, but spread around our world in a network connected by leylines. Magic flows out into the world through these lines and naturally seep into the world, renewing life and energy. When damage occurs, such as the damage mankind does to the environment, some of these natural pathways are damaged and magic cannot disperse naturally. Nemeta act as a release valve and a source of healing and renewal. They release the pressure and sort of backflush the system to heal the pathways.”

Noah’s brow furrowed in thought, “OK, I guess. But why does that have anything to do with my son’s birthday.”

“Because your son was a Spark, Noah. When a Nemeton’s physical anchor dies, the energy latches onto a new anchor nearby which will receive a burst of growth and become the new Nemeton. They can survive almost anything and heal themselves so it is rare that one dies before it’s natural, though extended, life cycle has completed. But when one has received terminal damage. When it has received so much damage that it cannot heal itself and yet is not dead yet, the energy will reach out to the newest life to serve as an outlet for the energy until the next time of cleansing or renewal.”

“So you’re saying that Stiles was born when the tree was cut down and it latched onto him?”

Arthur pointed at him. “Exactly. I would not be surprised if he was born close to the Preserve if not in it.”

Noah gave a little laugh. “You wouldn’t be wrong. Claudia loved taking nature walks in the Preserve when she was pregnant. And Stiles was a very active baby. He only stopped moving when Claudia was moving. It was about two and a half weeks before the due date when she didn’t meet me for lunch like she was planning. I was on duty and called for assistance checking her usual haunts. One of the deputies found her on the path in heavy labor. She was trying to make it back to her car. She delivered in that parking lot we started at in the back of the ambulance.”

“There you go.”

Noah walked over to the stump and put his hands on it. “So are you saying that this thing was always going to kill him?”

Arthur jerked back in shock, “No, Noah. A Spark is born to harness the energy of a nemeton.”

Beresford cocked his head to the side and examined Noah and the Nemeton. At this point, Noah had crawled up on it and was sitting. “I have to concur with Arthur. We have very little historical data regarding Sparks during the renewal process. But what we have comes from their own writings, so obviously they survived.”

“I have a theory, but you might not like it.” Raven reached out to touch Noah and her hand stopped as if the barrier were surrounding him as well, though Noah felt nothing. “Sparks need a balance between their life and the magic. The writings talk about a pull toward the nemeton that is almost constant. It wants to connect with this piece of itself. So they require something to balance that and anchor them to the real world. That way when the renewal hits they don’t get lost in the magic.”

“So it’s my fault.” Noah’s voice caught.

Peter rushed forward and climbed up on the Nemeton beside him to wrap him in a hug. “No, it’s not your fault. It’s no ones fault. We were all trying so hard to protect him from the supernatural that we locked him away from the support he needed. You weren’t alone in that decision.”

“Alpha Hale,” Beresford was staring at Noah and Peter as if they were a puzzle. “Could you join your Uncle on the Nemeton?”

“Can try.” Derek moved forward until he could touch Peter’s leg. Confident there was no reaction to that, Derek reached for the stump and was rebuffed by the barrier. “Or not.”

A burst of wind suddenly whipped through the clearing, picking up a pile of leaves and then it stopped as suddenly as it started, all the leaves dumping onto Derek’s head.

“Not funny, Stiles,” Derek muttered.

On the breeze Noah could smell rosemary and peppermint.

Noah was in the Preserve for about three hours before he left them for work. A couple bombings on the East Coast had Noah spending have the day on security protocols with his people. While the other half was spent dealing with the fallout of the officer involved shooting at the convenience store the day before. The press were asking questions along with the DA and the mayor’s office because of an unidentified witness that insisted the police did not have to use lethal force.

Noah kept up a firm No Comment message in public and shoved the security footage at the DA and the mayor in private. Honestly, he was just waiting for the coroner, such as they had, to finish his report. The shooting was justified. He had already authorized it before all hell broke loose and they suddenly had an active shooter.

The press weren’t revealing their source, but Noah was pretty damned sure who it was. Which was why he was pulling into the Beacon High parking lot about twenty minutes after school ended. Peter and Derek joined him. Something about having a pack member near an omega. Noah figured they were just worried that Scott might lose control if Noah pushed.

Since it was after hours there was no reason to check in at the office so they headed out to the lacrosse field where practice was in full swing. Noah watched as the team ran drills and wondered for about the thousandth time why he had never taken the time to watch Stiles practice. Hell, he had only made it to games because it was expected that the Sheriff would have a presence at the game. When did being Sheriff become more important than being a Dad?

Coach Bobby Finstock was in rare form, blowing his damn whistle and shouting the most insane things at the players. How in the world this was one of Stiles’ favorite teachers he had no clue.

Motioning for Peter and Derek to hold back, Noah walked up to the man. “Coach.”

He barely gave Noah a glance and kept shouting about the play. Finally he looked over, “What did one of these little hooligans do? You know, nevermind. It’s better if I don’t know. Wait, will I have to pull them from the game?”

“No, I doubt that. Just need to ask Scott McCall a few questions about an incident he witnessed.”

“Fine, sure.” He blew the whistle again. “McCall! Go talk to the Sheriff before he tries to arrest the whole team.”

Noah shook his head and turned to go.

“Hey, Sheriff!” Finstock called out. “What’s up with your kid. He hasn’t been in classes, doesn’t come to practice anymore. Did he finally get a clue and test out early? Kid was ready for college at least a year ago. Well, I don’t care if he’s in college or not, he still owes me a paper for last semester.”

Noah spun around. “You remember Stiles?”

“Ah, yeah.” Coach looked at him like he was mentally deficient. “Bilinski. Scrawny, sarcastic asshole after my own heart. Dont tell anyone I said that. He’s probably smarter than all of these idiots combined so not surprised he got out as soon as he could.”

Before Noah could say anything else Scott was in front of him looking recalcitrant and Finstock was blowing his whistle again.

“You wanted me?”

“Yes, let’s take this someplace quieter.” Noah led him off the field and away from prying eyes. Peter and Derek followed far enough behind to not appear too threatening.

“I already gave my statement, Sheriff.” Scott looked back at the Hales before turning to focus on Noah.

“Yes, you did. Thank you for that thorough statement. It will help us close the case file quickly.”

“Well, if that’s all.”

“No, not all. Did you give an interview to the press?” Noah asked and watched as Scott tried to control all the tells the kid had for lying through his teeth.

“No, I didn’t give an interview.” There was that perfect cherub smile.

Noah glanced at the Hales. Derek looked confused and shook his head but Peter had an evil little smile and gave him a little nod.

“Let me rephrase that. Did you perhaps offer information about what happened and maybe give your opinion in a place where a member of the press might have been present?”

And there’s the flop sweat. Boy can’t lie to save his life. “Scott!”

“I just told the truth,” Scott’s jaw jutted out stubbornly. “If someone had helped me, I could have taken him down without killing him.”

“Scott, he had a firearm and hostages. He was killing the clerk in front of us. She’s still in the hospital because of complications with swelling in her throat.” Noah shook his head. “I know you want to save and protect people. What you have to understand is sometimes we have to make the call that the life of the victim is more important than the life of the perpetrator. You’re a teenager and I don’t expect you to understand that choice.”

Scott stood up as tall as he could. “I understand that Gerard Argent is right. The police aren’t always able to make the right decisions to protect people. Sometimes citizens have to speak up and bring the monsters in our society into the light of day. No matter what the pretend to be.” He spun around and headed back toward the field.

“Idiot.” Peter joined Noah as he watched Scott go. “He can’t even see that he’s the monster Gerard wants to expose.”

They walked back to the cars in silence. Noah would have to give a statement to the press tomorrow since the autopsy report had been promised by tonight.

They just reached the cars when the radio went crazy with activity. Their phones immediately started ringing.

“Stilinski.”

“Noah,” Tara Graeme called out. “You need to get back here. There’s a special report on TV about a third bomb that was set off on the East Coast. People are uploading all kinds of weird videos of creatures. And, the President is getting ready to address the nation. Social media thinks he’s going to admit that aliens exist.”

Chapter Four

“You heard it here, viewers. Just a few short days ago the President of the United States confirmed that werewolves and other creatures that go bump in the night do exist. They have always existed and they hide in plain sight.” The anchor appeared on the darkened set with one of the images of a wolf in beta shift.

Lights came up around him. “As you know, I am Kyle Coultren and my guests here today include Federal Judge from Virginia, the Honorable Brian Miltner, Doctor of Mythological Studies and author of Myth and Monster: A Journey of Humanity, Dr Jon Stynier, former Chief of Police of Jacksonville, David Linkland and finally renowned speaker and humanitarian, Reverend Roger Robinette.”

The camera angle changed to see them all sitting in a semicircle around a table with a large screen behind them. “The world is in shock following the recent revelations. Every expression of disbelief has been met with uncontroversial evidence that the world is scarier than we could have imagined. Violence is on the rise as people realize that we have no idea who…or what our neighbors really are.”

“My first question is for Chief Linkland. You’ve been on the front lines during times of fear and unrest like this…”

“Well, not like this, Kyle.”

“Ha, true, nothing like this…but in times of natural disaster and riot, you have seen a city when violence erupts. You were consulted by the Mayor and current Chief of Police of Jacksonville when the first explosion was set off in that fair city. What are your thoughts on the public’s reaction to knowledge that monsters are real?”

“I think a certain amount of reactionary violence was to be expected. When people are frightened they will react in irrational ways. The important thing is that we need people to remain calm. Trust in the police and civil authority to take action when appropriate. Don’t jump to conclusions just because someone acts a little strange. The government is still working on ways to positively identify the supernatural among us. Until then, focus on your own security.”

“Speaking of identifying these individuals, Judge Miltner, there are those who believe that as long as these…well, people, I guess…as long as these people cause no harm, then we shouldn’t treat them any different. Is it even legal to try to identify them when they have not been charged with a crime?”

Miltner gave a look up like he was considering the question. “Normally I would reply that it is not acceptable to force anyone to register based on a physical determiner, such as race. But I think we need to be aware that we are not dealing with something as simple as the country of origin or the color of skin. There are matters of public safety that need to be taken into account. Let’s pick a jurisdiction at random. For instance, in the state of California, it is illegal to carry an undetectible knife. That is, a knife that will not set off a metal detector. But these individuals are born with the ability to instantly make appear claws that can cut through the metal in a car door. Requesting that these natural weapons be registered is not unreasonable in my personal opinion. As far as a legal opinion, each case must be evaluated on it’s own merit and I will be open minded and hear both sides of that argument when it comes before me.”

“Dr. Stynier, you’ve made it your life’s work to study the myths and legends that we now know are based on reality. You’ve had a chance to review some of the evidence shared by Gerard Argent, founder of the Citizens Protection Initiative. I might mention that Mr. Argent was just confirmed as Special Consultant on Supernatural Matters to the President. Should we be concerned? Are these shifters and others as dangerous as the myths imply?”

“Well, Kyle, I would like to say as an intelligent, reasoning human being that I would like to get to know them better before I make a judgment call. Mr. Argent has some powerful evidence regarding their base nature, but we are still waiting for some of them to out themselves if you will and sit down to a friendly conversation.”

“But you have made a study of the myths surrounding their existence.”

“Yes. We need to keep in mind that since our earliest memory as a species, humanity has been taught to fear the other. The concept that anything that is unknown should be approached with caution. Life isn’t as simple as that, but the conditioning of a hundred lifetimes is difficult to overcome. I’m not saying we should forget that and step out to embrace them. They’ve kept their natures hidden from us for generations and, I admit, that implies they know we have cause to fear them. There is a reason our oldest folklore shows again and again the creatures of the dark will trick mankind with nefarious purpose. We have always believed those stories were just examples of the darkest parts of the human soul, and granted some stories may be just that. But now you have to ask yourself, how much truth is in those stories. What is myth and what is fact? What face do these people wear in the light of day and what role do they play in our lives?”

“Good questions. Reverend Robinette, you have been quiet since the existence of the supernatural was announced. What do you say to those who are questioning their faith; who are questioning reality?”

“I have to admit, I am one who has questioned many things since the horrible loss of life in the bombings that revealed this hidden world to us. That one video of a grandmother suddenly twisting into a monster as the world went up around them before lashing out at everyone nearby. Those eyes that glowed first yellow then blue before it was put down has been burned into my very soul. So yes, I have thought and prayed. I have meditated on the meaning of humanity and redemption. And I have read the articles showing these sudden, unexplainable events that we now know involve the chaos of magic damaging our world. Magic. Man trying to harness power to rival the Almighty. Honestly, it’s the magic that concerns me the most. Those who devolve into mindless beasts will be dealt with by the hand of man. But those who dabble in this magic that is threating our world and our very souls must answer to God. What did our forefathers understand that we have lost to time? The answer to that question is easy to find. Exodus 22:18 says Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live…”

The TV went black and Peter tilted his head back to look at the person standing behind the couch. “Nephew, I was watching that.”

Derek tossed the remote onto one of the chairs. “It’s all crap. They were picked to rile people up, not to have an honest dialogue.”

“That they were, but it helps us to know the message that is being forcefed to the cattle.”

“We know the message. Violence against suspected supernaturals is on the rise. Everyone is keeping a low profile and making sure not to travel alone. It’s hard to know in a place like Beacon Hills how irrational people are going to be once any of us are revealed.” Derek moved over to sit across from Peter.

Peter just rolled his neck. “It’s just a matter of time before it happens. Someone slips. Someone remembers something they saw that was suspicious. The CPI starts making accusations. Noah will do what he can, but the moment there is violence, there will be no stopping the masses. We need to find a way to meet without looking suspicious.”

“We’ve restocked the boltholes in the Preserve and around town.” Derek pointed out.

“Yes, we have,” Peter agreed then tossed a pad of paper at Derek “And Carson has purchased several properties through a few of our shell companies. I don’t want to split people up, but if we could send a few to open up locations and make sure they are secure if we need to get away quick, it wouldn’t be a bad idea.”

Derek looked down and tapped the page. “Some of that is already done. Carson has been using his contacts to reroute some people who were headed this way. They were sent to the properties in San Francisco, L.A., Oregon, and Utah.”

“You’ve been busy. Why am I just learning this now?”

“Because you’ve been busy too. You have spent the last three days coordinating with every tribe, pack, or whatever that we have allowed in the territory. It’s important for our safety that we are all on the same page. I don’t know what’s coming, but we have to be ready.” Derek tossed the pad back to Peter.

Peter noted that Derek looked beyond tired. “Have any of our visitors expressed a desire to return home yet?”

“No. They’re out in the Preserve again. Beresford and his minions dragged Deaton out there today to get his impression of the changes in the area. Besides, they wanted to examine a magic user who was affected by whatever it was that erased Stiles from memory.” Derek sat forward and rubbed his face. “They seem to feel that the great reveal doesn’t mean anything if magic keeps breaking down.”

“Breaking down?” Peter put his elbows on his knees and stared at Derek awaiting an answer.

“Yeah. The area of destruction around the nemeta has increased by a factor of ten in the last three days. Four different volcanoes have either erupted or show signs that they are going to erupt when they were supposed to be inactive or something. There’s a tropical storm forming in the Gulf of Mexico out of season. A train crashed in India, completely obliterated the train, and not a single scratch on any of the passengers. They were all found on the side of the track asleep about 500 yards before the train jumped the track. What else was there? Oh, yeah. There’s a Pack out of Georgia that was caught by hunters. They ringed in the building with Mountain Ash and were gathering up to slaughter the pack as an initiation for new hunters. Somehow the pack walked right through the barrier. Mountain Ash didn’t even slow them down.”

Peter didn’t believe that one for a second. “Then it wasn’t Mountain Ash.”

Derek glanced down at his hands and then looked Peter in the eye. “When they went to talk to Deaton, he was at the vet office and he had that mountain ash counter blocking anyone from entering. I didn’t think about it, I just reached out and lifted it up. I didn’t have any problem at all getting past his little safeguard.”

“You are certain the barrier was closed?” Peter ran through a hundred implications of that.

“We tested it a few times. One of the betas with Arthur tried and it was about fifty-fifty on if it would hold him.” Derek looked away in thought and his eyes were grim when they locked again on Peter. “Haven’t heard if word has circulated to the Hunters but I suspect that when it does they are going to ramp up the paranoia.”

Peter looked back toward the darkened TV. “We don’t need to wait for the paranoia. Gerard Argent has the ear of the President. He’s controlling the message. They are going to come for us and they will do it with the blessing of the powers that be.”

“I was talking to Satomi Ito.” Derek scratched the back of his head and shrugged. “Since she’s the Alpha of the closest Pack to Beacon Hills, I figured she has a stake in what happens around here. We’ve been planning contingencies to get people out. But what if we plan to circle the wagons? I was thinking if things start to go bad, we start kicking out the Hunter sympathizers and make Beacon County a Sanctuary for the supernatural.”

“If we want to do that and not just light the fire that we’re insurgents, or whatever line Argent is feeding them, then we will need buy-in. Noah will support us within reason. He’s going to do his duty, but he will do what he needs to do to protect people and property. I don’t disagree, but check with Carson and see what our options are.”

“Speaking of Noah, I haven’t seen him since everything went wild. How is he?”

“Over-worked, under-appeciated, and not seeing an end in sight.”

“Marks, I need you to drive over to the Perpetual Sunrise and escort Mrs. Willsbury home. She insists there is a monster in her house so do a security sweep for her and walk her through the house to lock the doors and windows.” Noah just gave Marks a look when the man put on that horrified expression.

“Come-on, Sheriff! Why am I the only one you make do that? She finds at least three reasons to touch my ass every time and tells me how well my assets developed.”

With a smirk Noah just shooed him away. “Explain to her that the behavior could be considered harassment or assault of an officer.”

“No way. She plays backgammon with my Grams on Wednesday nights. It’s worth my life to interrupt Grams’ gossip network.” Marks frowned and grabbed his hat before heading out the door.

Blankenship made a rather crude comment to Cox with a laugh and Noah cleared his throat. “Since you boys are available, you can join the team Parrish has checking out the utility substations and relay centers.”

“Problem with them?” Cox asked as he shoved Blankenship off his desk and grabbed his service weapon from the drawer. Noah noted that Blankenship was wearing the same uniform he had on yesterday. He made a mental note to make sure the man made it home tonight. They had all been pulling double shifts since the world went crazy.

“Five more protests on the West Coast today and reports twenty minutes ago that there is rioting in Denver and Boulder. The D.A. refused to pursue charges against that witch emissary who killed those two people when they tried to bomb the Pack’s day care. We might not have the legal issues yet, but people are on a hair trigger and anything could set them off. I want to be prepared to lock down security around the utilities in case someone gets some bright ideas to cause panic.” He rapped on the wall in thought.

Louis Dolman hung up the phone on the other side of the room and called out, “Sheriff! Manager from Piper’s Grocery called. Trucks just arrived with their delivery and they have a full load of paper goods. Asking for a police presence while they unload. Gossip chain is in full force and word is getting out there’s a new supply of toilet paper.”

Noah shook his head, just three weeks and already the breakdown in distribution was causing short tempers. They were just looking for an outlet to blame for their troubles. “OK, go. I will have Marks rerouted after he gets Mrs. Willsbury home.”

He watched his men head out then headed back to his office via the front desk to drop off a note about their assignments.

“Sheriff.”

Noah kept walking and hoped that if he just ignored Christopher Argent long enough that the man would disappear. He didn’t hold out a lot of hope, but he believed in magic…sort of, so it was possible.

Argent slipped around his deputies and kept following him. “Sheriff Stilinski, either you can speak to me informally now, or you can wait for it to become an executive order.”

And that was where Noah’s willing suspension of disbelief crashed into a wall that Peter called Fucking Argents. He didn’t stop walking toward his office, but he did make a random motion for Argent to follow him as he moved.

He waited for Argent to enter the office before he stepped in and closed the door. Noah hesitated a moment before locking the door and closing the blinds.

“Mr. Argent, I appreciate that you feel you are doing the right thing. You have unfortunately been raised to believe that you are better than someone else. That you are superior to another person based solely on your heritage and the circumstances of your birth.”

Chris rolled his eyes and sighed. “Stilinski.”

Noah circled the desk and sat down. “No, it’s ok to admit it. Your family originates from France, right? I bet your…what do you call them?…Matriarchs? I bet your Matriarch was ecstatic the day the Germans invaded France. Finally someone who shared your belief was in power. Finally you had someone who would take an entire race, call them a species, and decide they should be exterminated.”

Chris started grinding his teeth. Noah wondered if Hunters had dentists on call.

“We are not advocating genocide, Sheriff. Comparing us to Nazis is just demonstrating that you aren’t able to be reasonable about this.”

“Really? What’s the saying? If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, must be a duck.” Noah leaned back in his chair and tapped his fingers on the armrest in thought. “Tell me, Mr. Argent, how old were you when you made your first kill?”

“How old were you, Sheriff?”

OK, if he wanted to play that game. “Twenty years old and scared to death. Our unit got jumped on patrol. My weapon jammed and there were two on our lieutenant. Took one out from behind with my knife. Threw up afterward. My sergeant pushed my ass to get up and keep moving. When we made it back to base he got me cleaned up and then sat me down and made sure I understood the difference between murder and a combat kill.” Noah tapped his fingers again. “Your turn.”

Chris looked away. “It was self-defense.”

“Right.” Noah held up a hand when Chris’ eyes flared. “I’m certain it was. How old were you?”

“Sixteen. I was…trapped with a feral omega during a training exercise. I was forced to kill it before it could kill me. It taught me a powerful lesson about the danger of weres.” Chris tightened his jaw as he flexed his gun hand as if in memory of the weapon. His shoulders were ever so slightly hunched in and his eyes were down and to the left moving with the memory.

Noah watched him a moment. Taking it in. “With what I have been told about the interactions between Hunters and Werewolves, I’m going to make a few assumptions here. Your father was in charge of your training. So, this feral omega you became trapped with. They caught him somewhere, did who knows what to him, kept him for I don’t know how long. They waited until he was no longer capable of rational thought. Then you were brought in for your training exercise. Did you just think you were going to see a real feral wolf for the first time? Didn’t expect things to get out of hand?”

Chris’ breath hitched, just barely discernible. Noah shook his head, re-evaluating.

“You didn’t know about it in advance, did you? Your father just sent you in without warning, didn’t he? Did he do it to shock you? Did he want to make sure that you were scared of them so that you would never question his beliefs? That makes me wonder if it was really self-defense or if you just believed it was.”

“Sheriff, there’s a reason I didn’t allow my daughter to be trained the way I was. I don’t agree with my father’s politics on this issue, but I don’t disagree with taking a more proactive stand in protecting people.” He shook his head. “I’m not here to start a debate. I’m here to give you a warning. Gerard is in meetings advocating supernatural free zones. He has also issued a general order for all Hunting Families ordering us to vacate any territories that have been designated Sanctuaries by the territorial Alphas. Local members of the CPI will be remaining in charge, but my family and I will be leaving Beacon Hills for the foreseeable future.”

“Wait a minute. You’re telling me that Gerard Argent has decided to back off and respect these territories without hostilities? You don’t think that sounds damned suspicious?” Noah stood up and circled round to sit on the front of the desk in front of Chris.

“Talk to me, Argent. Forget all the biases and tell me. You look like you’re going to be sick. What’s really happening?”

“They may be keeping the public focused on the existence of werewolves, but honestly it’s the magic that is freaking them out. Tomorrow they’re going to shut down commercial air travel. Magical turbulence has taken down four planes internationally in the last week. It’s just luck that only one crashed. Air Force One and Marine One are grounded. That little helicopter incident with the Vice President was a magic surge that shut down all the electronics. They had to auto-rotate down.” Argent rubbed his face a moment in thought.

“It’s not just air. The water from Niagara Falls just disappeared into thin air for six minutes before returning. Whatever was taking it shifted and thirteen tourists disappeared as well. Their bodies were found in Lake Sam Rayburn in Texas. They were discovered yesterday and they haven’t released that information yet. There are 100 acres of corn growing in the middle of Death Valley with no irrigation in sight. A ferry in Greece sank and killed 96 people. The survivors mentioned that people were falling through the solid deck into water. One moment they were standing on a solid deck and the next they just appeared to melt through the cracks before water rose up through it.”

“Do they really believe that magic users are doing this?” Noah gripped the desk he was sitting on.

“It doesn’t matter what he believes. Gerard is going to spin this in whatever direction he needs to convince the powers that be that all things supernatural are to blame. He wants to control all supernatural.”

“You mean exterminate.”

Chris shook his head hard. “No, control. They will do everything they can to force them all into the Sanctuaries so that they can all be tracked and controlled.”

Noah crossed his arms over his chest and gave him the look that meant you should rethink all your life choices. “My wife loved reading sci fi and her favorite book was Dune. There’s a quote from that book, ‘The people who can destroy a thing, they control it.’ You can’t possibly believe that they are just going to segregate the supernatural and let them live in peace. Read a god damned history book.”

“My only concern right now is protecting my family, Sheriff.” Argent stood up. “We’re leaving as soon as I can pack some bags. You’re still human. If I were you I would make some plans on how to get the rest of the humans out of Beacon Hills when the time comes. Because when they declare this a Sanctuary, every creature in this part of the U.S. is going to make a beeline for this town.”

Noah watched in silence as the door swung shut behind Argent.

Peter raced through the night to get to the edge of the Preserve. Word had come that a caravan of shifters had been cut off on their attempt to make it to LA and had to turn north before they hit California. If their intel was correct most of them were teens and young children separated from their families when idiots declared open season on anything supernatural.

He jumped the creek and then turned north toward the Northeastern Fire Watchtower. The damn things hadn’t been used in forever and Peter was sure that his family hadn’t been out to repair them for at least five years before the fire that killed the Pack. But it had still been the best place to set a watch. Unfortunately there was no cell service out here. And it was worth their life to use an unsecured channel for communications.

Three weeks. It had only been three weeks since Argent made his move. Oh, the President announced his approval of Supernatural Sanctuary Zones to stop the rioting. But no one would ever convince Peter it was anyone but Argent pulling the strings.

In hindsight the signs were all there even before Chris Argent slipped his note to Noah and skipped town. The Citizens Protection Initiative ramped up fear in the mundanes while interspersing Hunters throughout to assist with training. They identified the more militant homophobic, racist, idealists that could easily be turned to the Hunter cause. The rest they secretly taught how to profile shifters and other supernaturals.

So now they had a little army to send in when they needed to cause trouble and lists of every supernatural in the US they could identify. Where they could they applied pressure and cleared out communities. Grimshaw was right, they were being herded.

Beacon Hills would soon be predominantly supernatural now that they were a recognized Sanctuary. At least a quarter of the mundanes had loaded up and left town when the announcement came through. A third of those left were on the fence about leaving, but they had missed their boat for that. There were checkpoints in place to protect the town from concerned citizens. Anyone coming in or out had to confirm identity and species.

Peter spotted the watchtower and put on a burst of speed. He spotted the three watchers and let out a short roar to get their attention. It was a few of the newcomers that he hadn’t got a name for yet. Derek was coordinating watch schedules between the various shifters. “Hello the tower! I need two of you for a rescue. There’s a caravan we need to intercept before they hit the Hunter checkpoint.”

“Identify!”

Rolling his eyes, Peter shifted human and flashed his blue eyes. “Hale. Peter Hale.”

He heard the whispering up above, “The Hale Left Hand? Holy Shit! I’m not going down there. I’ll stay, you guys go.” He grinned and stopped listening. It was good to know his reputation was still alive and well.

“I don’t have all day.”

“Coming down.” A man and woman slid down the ladder. He didn’t wait for them to land before taking off toward the border.

It was another ten minutes of running to reach the forest closest to the road. If these people had come from the West, they would have hit the National Guard checkpoint and been routed into Beacon Hills whether they wanted it or not. But the hunters were handling this part of the east since there were no roads headed into town from here. In truth, anyone without an Alpha coming from this direction was labeled an omega and it was pretty much open season on omegas.

Peter slid to a stop just inside the tree line and held up a hand for quiet as the others joined him. He could hear the vehicles approaching. He glanced at the two with him. The woman looked like she could kick his ass, which was good but not what he needed for a bunch of traumatized kids. The man reminded him a bit of Stiles. A runners body hidden under flannel, jeans, and a rediculous hat.

“You…Waldo, go out there and flag them down.”

“Me?” He looked between the two of them as if there was someone else present.

“No, the idiot blending into the forest behind you.” Peter shook his head. “Yes, you. The one who looks harmless and like you couldn’t break a twig. Go. Road. Be a hero and stop the cars.”

“But…”

The woman glanced at Peter before leveling an evaluating look at her companion. “He’s right, Erwin. You’re the least threatening.”

“Excuse you. I may not be a wolf, but I am a shifter.” His eyes were shifting to a light violet. “I’ll do it, but I think just a little respect is in order.”

Peter glanced toward the woman, “What is he?”

“Wereconey.”

“You’re a bunny? Get moving, Thumper.” Peter muttered under his breath about the state of his life.

There were nine vehicles in the group. Not a single adult male among them. Teens were driving all but two of the vehicles. Way to stay inconspicuous. Thumper was able to flag them down before they passed the bend.

Peter and the girl approached the lead vehicle a woman somewhere between thirty and seventy was driving. Knowing shifters it’s sometimes hard to tell on the age. The teen in the passenger seat unbuckled and slid into the driver’s seat of the truck as the woman stepped out.

“We are peaceful.”

“And I’m Peter Hale.”

Relief poured over the woman. “Hale. We’ve made it to Hale Territory?”

“You almost made it to a Hunter roadblock.” Peter motioned down the road.

“Shit.” She raised her hand to cover her mouth as her color washed out. “What are we going to do? We’ve been just one step ahead of them the whole way. We can’t go back.”

“It’s ok. We’re going cross country. Let’s get the kids out with only what they can carry. Bambi and Thumper here are going to drive two of the vehicles while your drivers follow them a couple miles back where we can hide the vehicles until we can get some friends out here to move them. Then they will lead the drivers to meet up at the watch tower. Alpha Hale is gathering helpers to get the kids into town.”

They all stared at Peter, nodding. He waited for someone to do something before he glared at Erwin. “Well? Let’s move it people before Elmer Fudd decides it’s Rabbit Season.”

Noah pulled into the Hale drive and spotted all of the cars. He raised his wrist and glanced at his watch. Damn, he was an hour and a half late to the meeting. The magic users have been consulting on the whole crazy magic issue. Carson McCray, the Hales’ attorney had bought out space in his building and turned it into Magic Central.

The entire floor of that building was inundated with maps and satellite feeds showing areas of disturbance. Temperature changes, wind speed, weather patterns, and lately the disturbing areas of dying vegetation. Noah’s stomach had twisted when he realized that there was physical evidence of magic visible from space.

There had been a small issue with Visas when the U.S. ordered all visiting supernaturals to leave U.S. soil. Borders were on lockdown, not that there was flight anywhere. Travel by water was highly restricted. Noah had assisted their visitors in getting special permission as researchers since they are the foremost experts on magic.

Since then several members of the team have been reporting their findings to the U.N. Council’s Special Committee on Magic. Noah just shook his head at the thought. They had been forced to accept several government appointed scientists into the area for study, but only two of them had been able to get within sight of the Nemeton.

There was one that Peter was convinced was just there to spy on them. Noah agreed with him since his questions were more about the people than the nemeton. Noah found it amusing that every time the guy tried to enter the Preserve, he would suddenly appear in the strangest places. Most often in a locked jail cell, but once in the Mayor’s office in his underwear. It was frankly hilarious because there were too many witnesses when it happened for him to claim it was one of them.

Noah looked to the house and considered putting the car in reverse and leaving. Arthur Mansfield had been excited when he called earlier to make sure Noah was attending. Things with magic were coming to a head and they really needed to find a way to get things under control. The last time he was at one of these it was clear they were all in agreement that Stiles’ energy was caught in the stream. They just weren’t sure if that was the cause of their trouble or a symptom.

Thing is, everyone was in agreement that they needed to find a way to get him out of there. They just couldn’t agree how. Half of them wanted to find a way to save him so that he could help save magic. The other half felt they needed to destroy him to clear the pathways. Noah let them know exactly how he felt about them murdering his son before he left. He hasn’t been back to a meeting until now.

He took a deep breath and unbuckled his seatbelt. Reaching for his jacket, Noah winced when he unthinkingly pulled on his bruised ribs. Damn, Peter was going to go ballistic when he saw that.

Melissa McCall had asked Noah to try to talk some sense into Scott. The boy was talking about leaving Beacon Hills to track down Allison Argent. The fool kid was going to get himself killed.

Well, as much as he would like to stall, it was time to get this over with. The magic users have a plan, so the least he can do is find out what it is before he decides if he is going to have to kill any of them. Because if they think he’s going to let them kill Stiles, well, he will damned well show them that the weres aren’t the dangerous ones in town.

There was a lot of noise from the living room. Looks like he missed most of it, thankfully. He hung up his jacket in the coat closet before entering the room. They were handing out drinks and snacks. Most looked excited. Some of the druids looked as neutral as ever. Especially Deaton, who looked like he was sucking on a lemon under that painted on calm face.

“Sorry I’m late. Hope I didn’t miss anything important.” Noah gave a little half grin and tried his best to put on his friendly town sheriff face.

Peter leaned back on the couch and put his arms over the back as he looked up at Noah with an amused smirk. “You didn’t miss much at all. We have a plan to fix things. They all have assignments to gather the materials for the spell. It’s going to be one of the biggest rituals they have ever done so that’s exciting. Oh, and the Druids think we should do a sex ritual at the Nemeton.”

Noah was nodding away as he listened to the information, then he thought he heard sex ritual… His brain bluescreened.

Chapter Five

Noah shifted uncomfortably from one foot to another while the Druids chanted their mumbo jumbo and waved incense or tree bark or whatever that was around in the air. This was the third time they stopped so the druids could purify the path.

Derek looked back from where he was at the front of the line with Peter, raised an eyebrow at him, then shook his head. He leaned over to whisper something to Peter. Peter glanced back and grinned before facing forward again.

“Is there a problem, Sheriff?” Jordan Parrish gave the impression of moving closer though his feet never moved from their spot.

“Other than I’m strolling through the woods with thirty people to have sex on a tree stump, no. Don’t know why there would be a problem.” Noah refused to look at his deputy. Parrish was the only member of the Pack that Noah could call a Brother in Arms, so had been selected as his guard for the ritual.

“It’s just, you seem uncomfortable.”

“Oh, that might have something to do with the fact I’m not wearing pants. Robe, sandles, and nothing else. For the love of God, why am I naked under here?” Noah glanced at Jordan who looked so earnest.

Jordan looked at Noah’s robe before looking down at his own. “They gave me underwear to wear with it.” He looked back up and winced, “Sorry, Sheriff.”

Arthur laughed from behind them. “It’s about purity and removing barriers between you and Nature. In fact, the only ones wearing more are Derek and Jordan since they stand as Protectors and Guardians. The old gird your loins concept at work.”

Noah gave Arthur the evil eye. “The thing is, I’m never sure if you mean it or you are pranking me.”

“Well, that’s half the fun, Noah.”

“If it’s any consolation, Sheriff,” Parrish blushed, “if I have to shift to fight then I’m going to burn off all my clothes anyway.”

Noah shook his head and started to move forward with the line as Beresford led the way again.

It took them the last two weeks to prepare for this ritual. In fact, it was the final preparation before the big ritual to heal magic. Tonight at moonrise was the sex ritual, and then tomorrow at dawn every mage, witch, druid and whatever in Beacon Hills would gather to try to clean the leylines. And, hopefully, pull Stiles out of the mix.

“Arthur, explain to me one more time why this is necessary.”

“We are all in agreement that your Stiles exists in some form within the leylines. Evidence of intelligent interference is too great to think anything else. We are also in agreement that his presence must be removed in order to facilitate healing and return balance to the world. Our differences regarding how we should approach this have been overrulled by a quorum of our peers.” Arthur strolled calmly behind Noah.

“It was decided that the opportunity to save a life should be attempted first. Tomorrow we will all gather in ritual and try to pull young Stiles’ energy from the pathways.”

Noah scratched the back of his neck. “I get that, and I appreciate all the work that has gone into this.” With a look around he lowered his voice, “But I still don’t understand why Peter and I need to have sex out here.”

“There is power in symbolism, Noah. We have spent weeks cleansing the negativity from the Nemeton. That chaos spirit we removed and banished was just one symptom of dark energies warping this place. We have it as pristine as we can get it in the time we have. The next phase is to instill fertility and new growth. A sex ritual, as you say, is the easiest way to do that. Finally, tomorrow we will be performing a rebirth ceremony. Our hope is to latch onto the energy of Stiles’ body at the moment it was destroyed and pull that forward to reform him before we siphon his magic and consciousness into that body and breath life back in him.”

The very thought excited and terrified Noah in turns. They won’t get a second shot at this.

“And the reason it has to be Peter and myself?”

“Tomorrow during the rebirth you will stand as his progenitors. You as his father and Peter in place of his mother. You were always the best choice for the role because he will instinctively be drawn to you through blood and spirit. The bonds of family are strong, even now. His birth mother would have been the best choice for the balance, but that is not possible. We briefly considered Mrs. McCall since by all accounts she served in a maternal capacity at one time, but she has no memory of him and no connection. She lacks belief and that will not do. Mr. Hale has memory, a current sexual relationship with you, and is the only person other than yourself who is able to touch the Nemeton at will.” Arthur shrugged when Noah glanced back at him.

“Think of it this way, Noah. Tomorrow, hopefully, your son will be reborn into this world. An act of procreation is required for each birth.”

Noah tried to keep that thought in mind as they neared the Nemeton. The ritual had been explained in detail to him, though honestly he kind of got stuck on the public sex part of the equation and was frantically watching for his queues now that they were here.

Did they walk clockwise or counterclockwise? Wait was it his left hand over his chest or his right over his heart or…? Ok, so clockwise it is. Thank every power that exists that he didn’t have to recite any lines or answer anything because part of this damn thing was suspiciously close to a marriage ceremony Stiles had once described for him.

Finally the two of them were sprinkled for the last damned time with water and crowned with whatever the hell this stuff is. Noah is just praying there’s no poison oak in there.

He stood still as everyone backed away and started chanting. He didn’t remember this part of the instructions. He looked back and Peter was stripped naked, wearing nothing but that vine crown.

“What are you doing?”

Peter smirked, “This is the main event. Time to put up or shut up as they say.”

“When did full nudity become part of this, Peter?” Noah glanced around and noticed the grins interspersed with the ones focused on the chanting.

“It’s a sex ritual, Noah. It didn’t occur to you that we would be performing sans clothing?” Peter moved to crawl onto the Nemeton and stretched out like a cat.

Noah noticed a flash of silver between his butt cheeks. “Peter Hale, are you wearing a butt plug?” He hissed out and then blushed like half the people here didn’t hear that clearly.

Peter knelt with his legs wide as he sat back on his heals and looked back over his shoulder at Noah with the filthiest grin he had seen yet on the man. “Of course it is. After all, I wanted to be prepared. And let me tell you, our little stroll was exquisite.”

Noah flushed as the blood raced to his groin at the thought of Peter walking the entire way like that. No wonder Derek and Parrish kept giving him those looks. “Do you have no shame?”

With wide eyes, Peter rolled over onto his back and stretched out, “No, none.”

Noah rubbed his face and took a deep breath as he pulled off the robe. He had to grab quick to keep the crown from slipping off his head. It was only a few more steps to the tree stump, but it felt like a mile with all the eyes on him. He looked back over his shoulder and noted that Derek was standing in his place but was facing outward instead of inward. Spinning around he noted that at least a quarter of the others were doing the same.

Turning back to Peter he motioned back, “Why is Derek allowed to turn around but the others aren’t?”

“Well, I suppose Derek has no desire to see his Uncle and future Father in Law fuck.”

“And the rest?”

“Some people just enjoy watching.”

“Oh hell no.” Noah raised his voice, “I would sincerely appreciate it if everyone could face outward. Whatever privacy I can have in this situation would be welcome.”

He waited and stared each of them down until they turned away. Even though he was pretty certain he was blushing in places that had never seen a blush based on the full body looks he was receiving.

“Well, sweetheart, now that they can’t see us, are you ready to rock my world?” Peter reached down and stroked his dick as he spread his legs. “I think I’ve been patient long enough.”

“So, what are we supposed to do?”

Peter just looked at him like he was an idiot.

“I mean, how?”

“Tab A goes in slot…”

Noah reached out and pulled Peter’s hand off his cock and pushed him back. “Asshole.”

“That’s the slot I’m talking about. I see your powers of deduction are alive and well.” Peter looked at Noah and then shook his head. “What’s going on with you? You’re normally much more aggressive in bed.”

“Yeah, in bed. This is not a bed, Peter. It’s a tree stump in the middle of the forest. Hell, I’m gonna have to arrest all of us when this is over for lewd conduct. I am still the Sheriff here.” Noah took a deep breath to get himself under control.

He closed his eyes and took another as he felt Peter move forward and slide off the Nemeton.

“You need some encouragement.”

Peter’s hands slid down his body until they gripped his hips. Then in one move his cock was swallowed by a warm, wet heat. Noah groaned and opened his eyes to see Peter on his knees, lips wrapped around his dick and taking his time to taste everything. Noah put one hand on his head and another on his shoulder as he let the place and people float away. One moment and then another until his hips jerked and he started to move.

But Peter pulled back with a smile, “Now that you’re in the game, let’s get this moving.” He crawled back up onto the stump and Noah moved in.

He pushed Peter back onto the stump and spread the knees wide before reaching for the plug and pulling it out to toss it away. He dipped his fingers into the pot of oil and just prayed it was nothing that would come back to bite him later.

Noah slicked up then pushed in with a slow thrust. “Shit, how can you be this tight with a plug?”

“Healing. Trust me, a plug is the least of the fun we could be having.”

“Well, I hope you’re ready for a hard ride because this isn’t going to last.”

He stuttered a bit until he found a rhythm, but wasn’t getting the right angle. Noah growled and grabbed Peter’s hips to pull him back firmly to the edge of the stump.

“Fuck!”

“That’s the idea.” Noah leaned closer and thrust.

Peter shook his head, “No, I mean there’s…Holy shit, there. There. Again.”

With a grin Noah set a hard pace, nailing Peter’s prostate with every thrust as Peter alternated between “more” and “fuck.” He knocked Peter’s hand away when he tried to reach for his dick and just kept fucking him into the tree.

Looking down, Noah could see Peter’s pupils were blown wide open as he wrapped his legs around Noah and pulled him in hard. He slammed one hand down on the stump to hold his weight as he wrapped the other around Peter’s cock and started stroking along with every thrust.

With a strangled cry Peter came hard. Noah kept chasing his own orgasm until he felt the tingle at the base of his spine build and it crashed over him.

He allowed himself a minute to just lay on top of Peter, catching his breath. The man was breathing lightly and had an overwhelmingly satisfied expression on his face.

“Good job, gentlemen.” Beresford sounded as bland as usual.

Noah jerked back, suddenly remembering the audience and felt himself go red from his face to his toes. He tried to remember where he dropped that robe and just kept himself face down.

“You keep in really good shape, Sheriff.” Parrish was suddenly at his side like a good little Deputy, handing him his robe.

“Thank fuck.” He slipped it on and pulled it down before rolling over. Noah sat on the edge of the stump and put on his sandles before turning back to Peter who hadn’t bothered to move yet. “Need a hand?” He reached out and took Peter’s hand and tugged.

“Stop!” Peter jerked back his hand and rolled over onto his side.

Derek was there in a heartbeat. “I smell blood.”

Noah choked for a moment, horrified. “Did I hurt him? Peter, did I hurt you?”

“No.”

“That’s a lie.” Derek looked over and reached to turn Peter further.

“No it’s not, Derek.” Peter turned away from them and tried to roll back.

“If Noah didn’t hurt you then what did he do?”

“He fucked me into a tree, alright?”

“Peter…”

“I’ve got large fucking splinters in my ass.”

Peter reclined on the Nemeton, watching the activity of the night. Other than cleaning up with the towels provided, he and Noah had not left the Nemeton for long. Blankets were passed around so those who were able could rest, but that was hard to do with everyone preparing for the ritual at dawn.

He glanced toward Derek and Parrish who were standing silent guard through the night. They were taking their roles seriously. Not that the Nemeton itself was allowing anyone near, but the two men were ensuring no one tried to touch the Nemeton now that it was cleansed and charged for the ritual.

Peter noted that another twenty people arrived. That placed them over eighty so a bit over half. Raven Albrecht, the High Witch, waved them over and was quietly giving them instructions and pointing out on the chart their positions. At the outer edge there were stacks of double-fist sized rocks, cuttings, and other natural objects. Each person picked one they were drawn to before heading for their assigned location to meditate on it. They were infusing it with good will, protection, or healing energy based on their individual talents.

When they felt they had accomplished whatever it was they were doing, the person would stand and walk it around the nemeton before placing it as part of the protective circle around the stump. Arthur had explained that the basis of the ritual drew from Druidic tradition, while elements of witchcraft, etc were added in. But there was no way to include elements from every craft without losing cohesion in the ritual. So this allowed each to add their own and feel a connection to the ceremony.

It also meant that they were adding their life-force to the protection of the Nemeton for the ritual. Peter understood the theory on that. Point of fact, only Noah and himself would be spared sharing life-force with the ritual.

Peter put a hand gently on Noah’s shoulder when he started to move in his sleep. He muttered something about a white room before he settled back down and dropped into a deeper sleep.

Looking back at the people taking position in expanding circles around the Nemeton, Peter mentally reviewed the plan. At dawn to signify new beginnings, a blessing would be performed, protections raised, and the quarters called. In this case Earth, Air, Water, Fire, and Spirit. Four on the outside and Peter and Noah signifying Spirit on top of the Nemeton. Lots of magic would be flowing and they would try to pull Stiles from the stream. If his body formed, they needed to grab on to ground him and hold him in place because come hell or high water, they couldn’t leave the stump until the ritual ended.

If everything worked perfectly, then Stiles would be restored and take the place he was meant to have during the original renewal. They would all help focus him to disperse the magic and send healing back into the world. If everything worked perfectly.

He leaned back and looked up at the stars, so bright in the sky little changed from when he was a child. The moon was full and calling to him. Peter thought back to the days when Derek and Cora were young. When he could lead them through the woods by the light of that moon with little worry of danger. That was before Argent came and destroyed their peace. If only he could have those days back.

He worried even now that they were going to save Stiles just in time for that poor boy to save magic and have humans destroy them for it. Peter glanced at Noah. A human. A good man. A father willing to step outside his comfort zone and risk all for his child. It was the kind of father he had always imagined he could be if only he hadn’t been chosen as Left Hand.

Noah shivered slightly so Peter moved closer and wrapped the blanket around them both to share his body heat. He watched as the man slowly relaxed again, noting that the worry wrinkles didn’t disappear in sleep. Peter pulled him in just a little closer before closing his eyes and allowing sleep to pull him under once more.

Noah stood barefoot on the Nemeton holding hands with Peter as the ritual began. He just thanked the powers that be that he didn’t have to do this part naked. There was over a hundred and fifty magic users holding hands in concentric circles around the nemeton. Some, like himself, in robes. Others dressed in outlandish costumes. Most in jeans and t-shirts. He hadn’t realized there were this many of them in Beacon Hills.

The sky was starting to pink up as the sun peeked above the horizon. Not that he could see it through the forest and people but he trusted they knew exactly when to start. There were four of them walking clockwise around the circles while chanting something in a language he couldn’t recognize. Archdruid Winston Beresford led the march. He wasn’t the oldest or even the strongest practitioner there, but the Nemeta were traditionally the sacred spaces of the Druids so they held a higher claim.

Next came a man by the name of Sakda Apinya. He was one of the originators of the plan and they had a devil of a time sneaking the man into the country when all hell broke lose. He was the top mage or whatever they call them. If he understood Arthur’s description then druids were all about earth and the balance between energies, witches were about nature and life, and mages were all about elemental power. There was a lot of crossover so the whole thing just gave Noah a headache.

Following the men were two women. The first was a dryad to represent the lifeforce of the world and the nemeton itself. She had only been introduced as Myrica. He wasn’t sure where she came from, but half the sups in town treated her like royalty so he wasn’t complaining.

The second was High Witch Raven Albrecht. She looked like a child following behind the others, but he knew for a fact that power-wise she could blow them out of the water.

As they passed each circle the circle would close as the people began to hum. Each circle representing one note of a chord. It was oddly powerful in it’s own way and piece by piece Noah felt a tingle of the magic flowing through his feet.

He looked at Peter, concerned, but Peter just smiled and squeezed his hand. Noah took a deep breath and then continued to watch them advance inward until each stood equal-distant from the others between the circles of people and the circle of stones around the Nemeton.

The sound of the humming dropped to a whisper but didn’t stop. Derek and Parrish when down on one knee on opposite sides of the nemeton, just outside the barrier created by the stones. Noah noticed that the air over the stones seemed to move and distort vision.

Beresford lifted his voice over everyone. “May Gaia bless our purpose this day. Grant us the power to protect her, the skill to heal her, the will to endure her burdens, and the grace to accept her decision. We ask her to return to us our brother in magic, Mieczyslaw Stilinski, so that he might fulfill his purpose in this life. So mote it be.”

Noah swallowed hard and focused on the next part. He glanced down at Derek and Parrish. They physically stood as the protectors to prevent anyone from breaching the heart of the ritual. They stood and drew paired obsidion knives before they took their places. Then Peter was tugging at his hand and Noah turned to face toward the East where Beresford stood.

The Archdruid stood tall, fully in his element. “I call on Fire.” He slammed his staff into the ground and fire erupted from the staff and formed a quarter of the circle as if the stones burned. “Fire, the power of Summer, our Past and hopefully our Future. For we have walked through the fire of turmoil and watched it burn all we held dear to the ground. But it is through such hardship that we grow.”

Noah and Peter turned to face Sakda. The mage took a deep breath, “I call upon Water.” Sakda reached down then turned his palms upward and seemed to pull on something extremely heavy. Under him water seeped up from the ground until it flowed ankle deep around the man and then poured forward to touch the stones. As it connected it shot upward into the sky, a wall of water surrounding one quarter of the circle and steaming slightly where it connected with the fire. “Water, the power of Autumn, a time of sharing and coming together. We wash away the troubles of the past and allow them to fade into dream.”

Turning again, Noah looked at Myrica. She was tall and willowy, flowing as if she could bend with the breeze but never break. Derek mentioned that the world smelled fresher around her. She certainly exuded a kind of life energy. She smiled gently then lifted her arms and moved them like she was weaving them back and forth in front of her. “I call on Earth.” As if cracks were forming in the ground, a green light shot up into the sky. The cuttings and branches that had been interspersed in the stones around the barrier suddenly burst into life and grew around them, interlocking everything into a solid unit. “Earth. Our mother and the source of our life, from whom all magic flows. Earth is Winter. Not a death, but a sleep. A time of seeking the hearth and healing. This is the time of patience and waiting. A time to contemplate the future.”

Noah shifted a final time and smiled at the excited little dance Raven did before she reached out her arms and spun around. “I call upon Air.” The wind whipped up and spun around before it rushed and hit the stone barrier. Sparks of yellow sunlight hit the energy and raced around the circle. “Air, Always in motion, wicked and mischievious, gentle or wild, a contradiction and a bracing presence. It is Spring in all it’s glory. Forever renewing and reforming the surface of our world. It is life’s breath from our first to our last.”

Noah felt his hand shake as he gulped in a deep breath and went completely blank. He looked toward Peter who raised an eyebrow at him then pulled him in for a hug and a hand running down his back, calming him. Nodding as he got himself under control, Noah stepped back and took both of Peter’s hands, facing him.

He focused on Arthur’s training. The most important thing about magic is belief and desire. This was going to work and he believed he would see his son again. “I call upon Spirit.” The world was suddenly awash in a purple light that filled the surface of the Nemeton. “Spirit, that which binds us together and makes us whole. That which makes us one. One of purpose, singular in our will. It is hope and resolution. And through it may our will be done.”

“So mote it be,” intoned the four outside the circle.

Suddenly the purple light shifted with the others and it was as if there was a solid barrier of energy around the nemeton. And within it felt charged, yet safe.

The humming rose in volume while the four practitioners were chanting in unison. Magic was rising and falling around them. It was a veritable light show inside and out. Noah focused on the two instructions they had given. No matter what happens, don’t let go of each other and don’t leave the Nemeton.

Slowly, the outline of a form started to appear on the stump. Noah was certain he was breaking Peter’s hand as he gripped tightly and watched the ghostly image of Stiles appear. He looked like he was in pain as if the process that destroyed him was remaking him in reverse. It was horrifying to watch and Noah prayed that Stiles would not be able to remember it.

The familiar yelling of a male voice drew Noah’s attention from Stiles and he saw Derek holding down Scott McCall outside the barrier. It was wavy but he could make out the two fighting as Derek prevented him from breaking through.

When their eyes met, Scott stopped fighting Derek and yelled for Noah. “Sheriff. You have to stop. You have to get everyone out of here. Chris Argent called me and told me we have to evacuate. The National Guard and the Hunters pulled back. Gerard convinced the President that the only way to stop magic from killing everything is to destroy the Nemeton. Chris says they’ve sent a plane to bomb everything in Beacon Hills to make sure they get it. We have to go before it’s too late. Please.”

Noah exchanged horrified looks with Derek. They both turned to look at the spot where Stiles was still nothing more than an outline. He looked around at all of the people here and thought of all those in town. If Scott was right, a lot of people were going to die. Save his son or save the town?

Tears started running down his face, it wasn’t a choice he could make. “Peter.”

Peter gripped both hands tight and shook them to get his attention. “Noah, look at me.”

Noah met Peter’s eyes and saw compassion and resolution. “This isn’t about Stiles. It’s not about this town. What good does it do to stop this if we fail and magic kills everything? We finish this. No matter what, we have to finish this.”

With a nod he turned back to Derek who acknowledged the unspoken order before he refocused on restraining Scott.

“No. You can’t do this. Everyone here is going to die.”

Derek shook his head and pressed Scott down into the ground. “If we stop, the whole world dies.”

It took a while before the fight finally left Scott. Noah barely gave him a moment’s notice, too focused on Stiles. The body was almost whole, but it was just a shell reacting to pain and stimulus. It wasn’t alive with intelligence and thought. The magic users were still standing, but it was clear they were tiring.

Arthur had hypothesized that once Stiles’ body was complete, the transfer of his energy back into it would be instantaneous. When that happened, they had to be ready to grab onto him and give him a physical anchor within the protected barrier so that he could withstand the release of power that would take place. But they were cautioned not to touch him until it happened so they didn’t interrupt the transfer.

The pain the body was in suddenly seemed to stop and Noah knew that moment was at hand. In the distance he could swear he heard planes approaching and prayed that Scott had been wrong.

There it was, a glint in the eyes, a twitch of muscle, an unconscious shift of stance. That…that was his son!

Noah shifted position so that he could reach out for his son when the world exploded in light and heat. He slammed his eyes closed but the light burned through his eyelids. A concussive wave knocked him back but the barrier held and for a moment, just a moment it was as if he stood in the center of the Sun.

Chapter Six

“Mother Fuckers. What the actual fuck!”

Noah heard the voice and rolled over to put his hands down on the Nemeton and push himself up. The world was still white. He looked around. The world was very white. In fact it looked like he was in a solid white room that seemed to be lit from everywhere with nothing in it but the Nemeton and…Stiles. It was a whispered prayer, a dream.

Jumping up, Noah raced over to wrap his arms around his son. “Stiles.”

“Dad, holy crap, did you see that. I swear to Gaia that the Argents have the worst fucking timing. We almost had it. All of that fucking planning and Gerard fucking Argent just screwed over the world.”

“Language,” Noah murmured as he squeezed hard and plastered his son to his body.

Stiles returned the hug with a huffed, “Seriously, Dad, my language is the least of our problems right now.”

Noah looked around the room and then back at the stump. “Where are we?” Reluctantly he loosened his hold as Stiles stepped back a pace.

“This? I have no clue. I think it’s kind of like the program loading room in the Matrix. Just a blank space to meet up and plan your moves. No matter where I go, I’m drawn back here.” Stiles waved his arms around frantically as he spun and stumbled.

Noah gave a laugh and then just pulled him in next to him and forced his son to sit down on the edge of the nemeton with him. He ran his hand over Stiles’ head and sighed. He thought back to that explosion of heat and light. “They really bombed Beacon Hills?”

“Yup.” Stiles was practically vibrating with his indignation. “I had a fucking plan.” He turned to face Noah with a frown. “I’ve been pretty much stuck in here all this time. I can kinda reach out and touch things out there when I needed to. And I could see what was happening. When I understood that I started working on a plan to fix things. Not me, obviously, because I had no fucking clue what to do about that. But magic and the world. Then I figured out what you guys were going to try, and well, it fit with my plan so I decided to let you try. Little did I know the Argents would screw over the world.”

“You said that before. Just take a deep breath, think about your answer, and explain things to me…in a way I can understand, Stiles.” Noah kept a hand on Stiles’ leg but leaned back to let him express himself.

He gave a little huff of laughter and his eyes sparked with humor. “First off, you do realize we’re not exactly alive here, so there’s no actual air to take a breath.”

Noah rolled his eyes. “Fine, take a metaphorical breath and explain.”

Stiles paused in thought. “So, you figured out the whole Spark deal.”

Noah nodded but kept his mouth shut and motioned Stiles to continue.

“I’ve had time to come to terms with what happened to me. It sucked. It sucked balls that no one noticed me. But, I know I’m just as much at fault. If I had been calmer and more open about what was going on with me, things might have been different. I’ve spent too long learning to take care of everyone else and hide my own problems away.”

“Stiles.” Noah put all of his sorrow and regret in that word.

“Hey, no.” Stiles reached down and took Noah’s hand. “I don’t take it all on. I mean no one else was blameless, but I had to let that go. Just live and learn. After I…entered the stream of magic, I guess you could say, it was impossible to focus on myself. Magic is so much bigger than a single person. I could see that the damage to our Nemeton is just the tip of the iceberg. There is so much damage overall, Dad. We’ve really screwed over the Earth.”

“We have?”

Stiles nodded then shook his head, “Not us, but humans. The problem with humans is that the damage isn’t localized. We are everywhere with everyone adding to the stress. Individual wounds can be dealt with and healed. But our damage is cumulative. It’s become systemic.”

He cocked his head to the side in thought, “See, massive physical damage has occurred before. This isn’t the first time that’s happened. Normally magic kicks in and heals things. Even when leylines or a nemeton is involved. But it’s not just the leylines and the nemeta that are damaged this time. It’s the supernaturals of all shapes and denominations. It’s the magic users who are supposed to be keeping the flow of magic moving. It’s the whole damn organism that isn’t being allowed to function with all of the systems intact.”

Noah gave that a little thought. “So, mankind has pretty much shot itself in the foot.”

Letting go of his hand, Stiles ran his fingers through his hair. “Well, mankind isn’t helping. But honestly, it’s the hunters who are screwing over that balance. Instead of preventing things from going off the rails, they have been digging up the rails and replacing them with traps. They hate anything supernatural and the magic that allows them to exist.” He threw his hands up in the air in frustration. “But magic is necessary. And it needs to be used and shared to keep things alive. The average human benefits from ambient magic, but can’t really absorb and distribute it. Supernaturals can. Think of supernaturals and magic users as the bees for magic’s garden. They need to pollinate things so magic can grow. Without them, magic starts to shrivel and die.”

“So you had a plan.” Noah needed to shift things before Stiles started in on his birds and the bees presentation again. Once had been enough for Noah and having his ten year old son explain safe sex and procreation to him had been scarring for everyone involved.

“Yes! Yes I did and it was a brilliant plan if I do say so myself. I’ve been siphoning off magic to any place that leylines cross. Creating little pools of magic. I was planning to wait until the next magical surge occurred, then activate all of these pools. If I did things right, then they should each create a baby nemeton at that location. It would relieve the pressure by distributing it between a thousand outlets worldwide.”

Noah dodged as Stiles’ hands waved all over the place as he described what he had done. He smiled as he watched his son move, happy to have him again. “So, it was a brilliant plan. There’s no way to do that now?”

Stiles just collapsed in on himself. “No. The backflow of the final death of a nemeton in this way? It’s not possible. This isn’t just the physical anchor of the node. There is nothing left in Beacon Hills for magic to reach. I mean a catastrophic event has happened before. Massive damage, but everything surged and the other nemeta acted as relief valves.  There are no healthy nemeta to soften the blow like last time.”

“What happened last time?”

“Did you know that Yellowstone is the result of a super volcano. All of that pressure has to find an outlet.”

Noah’s eyes popped open and his jaw dropped. “You’re saying that the Argents just triggered another eruption of Yellowstone?”

Stiles’ eyes teared up and he shook his head, “I’m saying that outside this bubble, the forces of magic are burrowing down, deep into the earth and cracking the surface of our planet.” He wiped at his eyes. “It was the trifecta of bad fucking timing. Ten minutes later…five minutes even, and I would have been back. Your ritual had the magic contained. I would have been linked to the whole fucking magic network and I could have used that power to nullify the damned bomb. Then I could release the energy to heal the pathways. Shoot, you had at least twenty there that could have stopped the bomb, but they were committed and locked into the ritual.”

Looking down at his hands, Noah thought of the implications. “If that’s happening now, the cracking of the Earth thing, then what?…are we dead already?”

“Yes and no.”

Noah looked up at Stiles who held up a hand to stop him. “Everyone in Beacon Hills is dead. Pretty much vaporized for the most part.” He counted out three fingers on his hand as he spoke, “You, me, and Peter were protected within the barrier of magic around the Nemeton.” Stiles shrugged, “Eh, temporarily protected.”

“If Peter was protected, where is he?” Noah looked around as if there was something else to see in the room.

Stiles motioned out, “To each their own. The place is kinda a maze and you see what you need to see. Peter is seeing a few truths of his own right now.”

Noah looked around then pushed his worry about Peter away and turned back to Stiles, “What happens next?”

“Well, we can let time catch up with us and the bomb’s blast will incinerate us like everyone else. At least we won’t have to live to see the end of life on Earth. And, might I say, that if we go that way I hope Gerard has a long fucking life to live as he becomes a symbol of the death of mankind.”

“Stiles…”

“I’m just saying…”

“Be honest with me, kid. Do we actually have any options? I mean we’re still here, sort of.” Noah looked around at white again.

Stiles scratched the back of his head and then stood up and started to pace. “Normally I would say no. I mean, the world is screwed and this nemeton is holding us in this one moment in time where we can talk. I figured it was just responding to my subconscious need for a last chance  to say goodbye. And, well, maybe it is and it isn’t.”

“You do know you’re not really making sense right now son?” Noah gave Stiles a sad little grin.

“I’m not making sense until I do.” Stiles threw himself backward and suddenly there was a white couch behind him to land on. He used one hand to point out in front of himself. “Forward is no good. Forward is death and destruction.” Then he pointed down, “And here is just a short stop before forward, ya know?”

Noah moved over to sit next to Stiles. “OK, so here and forward don’t work. The only other direction, Stiles, is backward.”

“Right-o, Daddio. What if instead of going forward we…well, you, go backward?” He motioned behind him with a thumb.

Rubbing his face, Noah ran paused in thought then looked back up at Stiles. “I’m just going to clarify this, because I’ve been dealing with a lot of crazy lately, but this is something that never came up. You’re talking time travel.”

“Yes.” Stiles leaned toward him bobbing his head up and down. A gleam of excitement entered is eyes.

“If that’s possible, why didn’t they just do that to go back and help you before everything went crazy?” Noah demanded.

“Because it wasn’t an option before. I mean, putting my body back together is just a bit of transmutation of matter. They latched onto the energy of my physical form as it existed before things went wrong and  just called forth the parts then put it back together. That was no small thing. It took most of what they had to pull the actual me back together and not just a temporary construct. Once I was back in my body, that would have triggered the renewal to start and they would have protected and boosted me to complete that process. But the release of energy during the renewal itself would have recharged them.”

Stiles looked over at Noah, “Honestly if everything had gone the way it was supposed to for their ritual, they would have been riding a three day high on magic. I suspect Beacon Hills would have had a serious baby boom.”

Noah gave Stiles a dirty look. “I really didn’t need to know that.”

“Anyway, time travel is a whole nother level of power. Even with everything that happened, there was not enough magical energy to send someone bodily back in time. But, right now I think I can send a consciousness back.”

Noah thought about that statement, “Why right now?”

“You were using the magical energy of over one hundred and fifty practitioners mixed with the procreation of your fertility ritual with Peter.” Stiles turned and gave him the stink-eye. “And that has left me scarred for all existence, thank you very much.”

Noah groaned and put his face in his hands. “No one is ever allowed to mention that ritual again.”

“That power on top of this Nemeton is substantial and a good start. Add all of that energy combined to the power of over one hundred and fifty human sacrifices on the Nemeton’s grounds during a ritual where their magic was literally linked together…” Stiles stood and started pacing. “We don’t have long, but I’m sure I can do it. I can definitely send one, maybe two back.”

“Me and you?”

Stiles froze and then his eyes filled with tears. He shook his head slowly, “I can’t send myself. The ritual wasn’t finished. I’m still connected here. Until time moves forward and this is destroyed, this is all I have. But I can give you and Peter a chance.”

Noah shook his head then moved over and grabbed hold of Stiles shoulders to shake him, “No. We did this to save you. To hell with magic and everything else if I can’t save you.”

Stiles pulled Noah’s hands off him and then covered them with his own. He swallowed hard and put all the pleading he could into his eyes. “You still can, Dad. This is your last chance. You can save me. You can save me from so much more than this. You can give me the life I should have had. The one without an absentee father and with only a single friend who drops me at the first chance. A life where we’re a real family, not just two people who exist.”

Noah felt the pain of his past failures coming up to slap him. “I can do that. I want to do that.”

“Good. I can take the human sacrifices and all of the magical reserves I’ve been pooling around the world and do this. You and Peter. I’ll try to get you to a point where you can make a difference.”

“Ok.” Noah pulled Stiles into a long embrace. “I’m going to save you. I won’t let this happen again. I promise you, Stiles, I’m going to be there for you this time.”

He smiled, “I love you, Dad. Just try to remember, I’m happy when you’re happy. You’re allowed to be happy too, Dad. We both need to learn that.”

Noah felt his heart stutter. Even now Stiles is trying to take care of him. He is going to do everything in his power to make sure his kid knows he’s loved. “I’ll try, for both of us.”

Stiles gave a little half grin then looked so serious as it dropped away. “Can you promise me something else?”

“Anything.”

“When the time is right, let me go. Don’t make me a shadow he has to live in.” Stiles pushed him back so he could look in his eyes. “Please, Dad. Let this me disappear and let him live.”

Noah swallowed hard and shook his head, “I can never forget my son.”

The pleading look tore at Noah’s soul and he stopped before taking a shuddering breath. He let it out and took another. Noah cupped his hands around Stiles’ face. “But I promise not to try to force him into a mold. I promise to try.”

He pulled Stiles forward and placed a kiss on his forehead. “Always know I loved you more than life.”

The light flared up pure white until it overwhelmed everything and pain spiked into his brain.

Noah pulled his arm forward to try to block out the light as the feeling of a spike being driven into his brain increased. His mouth tasted like something had crawled up and died in it and a sudden wave of nausea engulfed him. He stood up from where he was seated, which he recognized as his kitchen table and stumbled over to the sink to be sick.

When it felt like he could move without heaving again, he washed out his mouth and looked around. He was in his kitchen, the light of sunrise was streaking in and there were…crap, how many bottles of liquor did he drink last night?

He was having the worst dream that…. Noah jerked to a stop. It wasn’t a dream, it couldn’t have been a dream. What day was it? Noah looked around until he spotted the calendar on the wall. November 9, 2003. He did it. Stiles did it.

Stiles…

Noah turned to run up the stairs, then grabbed the wall and stopped himself. The last thing he needed to do was go racing up there and scare the hell out of his kid. He looked down and realized he was still dressed in his uniform from yesterday. Fuck, he was still wearing his service weapon. Since when did he wear his weapon when drinking?

Turning around, he headed into his office and locked up his weapon before returning to the kitchen to cleanup up all the spent bottles. Taking out the trash he glanced at his watch. Then he headed for the shower after grabbing a couple of aspirin to fight back the headache. He just had to drop into his body with a hangover. Well fair enough, he probably had a hangover most days in 2003. It wasn’t even a year since Claudia’s death.

Noah double-checked his schedule to verify he was off duty today. Good, he was going to need it to figure things out. Because either he had just had the longest, most vivid dream ever or he had time traveled.

He checked the cupboards and realized the only things in here were things Stiles could make on his own. Had it really started this early? Is this when he checked out of his kid’s life?

Briefly considering the possibility of running to the store, Noah decided not to chance it. There was no way his blood alcohol level was back to a legal limit yet. So, toast and scrambled eggs it was going to be. He would love some bacon to go with that, but wasn’t sure bacon grease was a good idea on his stomach.

He checked the time, put on a pot of coffee, and pulled out the supplies for breakfast. He was enjoying his first cup when he heard Stiles’ alarm go off. He started his second when he heard the snooze finally ring out and decided it was time to start cooking.

He had the juice poured and was plating the eggs when Stiles came creeping down the stairs as if afraid to wake someone. He froze when he stepped into the kitchen and Noah got a good look at his son.

Was Stiles really this small? He was oh so small, but already had that edge of worry and exhaustion around the eyes that said he had started growing up too soon. It killed Noah that he was responsible for that look. He wanted to wipe it away and give him back a childhood. He wanted to fix this. He was going to fix this.

“Good morning. Felt like a scrambled eggs kind of morning, don’t you agree?” Noah set down the plate and coaxed Stiles to the table. He moved like he was in the room with a wild animal and wasn’t sure if it was going to purr or pounce.

“Yeah, Dad, eggs sounds great.” Stiles ate carefully, looking around the kitchen like he was trying to spot something.

Probably looking for the bottles. Noah made a mental note to clean out the rest of the alcohol. If he was really going to make a change this time, it was time to admit that he couldn’t handle it in the house.

Noah glanced back toward the calendar trying to remember this day. He needed some time to figure things out but there was something about today. A memory came back of a crying Stiles at the end of the day when he was picked up from school. “Oh, I almost forgot.” Heading into the office he pulled open the desk drawer and looked for a certain slip of paper. There. He picked it up and double-checked the date. It was real. He really was in the past. Noah knew he had been too drunk to remember to sign it the first time around and was angry when Stiles tried to wake him up. Then he slept through the school calling him when Stiles wasn’t allowed on the bus with his class. He grabbed a pen and signed, “Here it is. You don’t want to get to school without your permission slip for the field trip. I bet the Railroad Museum is going to be great.”

Stiles took the permission slip like it was a golden ticket. “You remembered.”

“Of course, I remembered.” He shook his head and took a breath. “I know things have been rough around here lately, but I promise you, it’s going to get better. And, I’ll do my best to do my part.” Noah saw Stiles hesitate so he stepped forward and pulled him into a hug. “We Stilinskis screw up on the regular, but we’re never afraid to hug it out.”

Stiles moved slowly at first then latched on to return the hug. They just stood there until there was a honk outside.

“That’s Mrs. McCall and Scott.” Stiles let go reluctantly.

“Ok, grab your jacket.” Noah reached into his wallet and pulled out some money. “For snacks, lunch, and souvenirs.”

He walked Stiles out the door and waved at Melissa. As he was crawling in the back seat, she asked Stiles a question and he nodded at her with a huge smile. That got a fist pump and high-five from Scott. Melissa smiled and then waved back to Noah. She rolled down the window, “Don’t worry. I volunteered today, so I’ll keep an eye on them.”

Noah smiled, “Thanks. Let me know next time you need me to take Scott for a night.”

Melissa’s smile widened and she gave a last wave before backing out of the driveway.

He watched them leave before heading back into the house and sliding down the door. That just happened. He was really back in time. His son was alive and healthy. There was time to make sure he stayed that way. What can he change? What should he change? Is there anything that needs to happen?

First order of business is to remember what was going on right now. Shit, he can barely remember what was happening in his own life during this period. He was probably drunk until January. Then a few of the deputies held a private intervention and talked him onto the wagon. Well, he’s not waiting for that.

The real issue is he really doesn’t know much about what was happening with the supernatural before the Hale House fire. Derek and Peter hadn’t spoken much about those times.  How is he going to do this alone? Noah banged his head back against the door then jerked forward.

Wait…is he alone? Noah reached for his phone and stopped. He doesn’t have Peter’s phone number. And even if he did, what if it’s not his Peter? How does he explain that he knows him? Well, technically he did sort of know Peter in passing. The man was always on the edge of trouble. Not in it but always there.

Shit. Did Peter know Stiles was going to send them back? Noah pulled himself up and headed for his office. He needs a valid reason to look into the Argents when they come calling. If it’s not his Peter, then he needs to figure out how to get the man to bring him in on the supernatural.

Peter awoke in a dream. It was such a wonderful dream. He was snuggled warm in his bed, the quilt made by his Great Aunt Millicent covered him and he could feel all of the bonds of pack thrumming through him and connecting him to his family.

Morning light trickled in through the window in his childhood home. He could almost forget that it ever burned. Not even a memory of that smell existed.

Speaking of smells, was that Uncle Jack’s Coconut-Almond French Toast Casserole? Peter rolled over and looked at his room. It was exactly as he remembered it before the fire. His books, his mementos, all the little pieces of his life that ceased to exist.

There was a barely there knock before his door opened and a little body snuck in. Peter’s breath caught as he watched his nephew tiptoe up to his bed. There was the sound of soft breaths and the smell of hesitation before the boy crawled up onto the foot of the bed.

Peter closed his eyes as the child moved up to sit on one of the pillows. Then little fingers worked to gently pull open an eyelid.

“Unca Peter. You wake up?” little Joseph Hale whispered next to him.

“Sleeping,” Peter murmured and closed his eyes tight.

“Daddy says Unca Peter haveta wake up.”

“Noooo, sleeeeeeping.”

“But all us waking up.” Fingers were back to pry open his eyes. “See all wake.”

“OK, but waking up makes Uncle Peter hungry.” Peter reached out to push the hair out of Joseph’s three year old face. He needed to convince his brother to get the kid’s hair cut.

Joseph smiled wide. “Unca Jack n Aunt DeDe are making yummies.”

Forcing his face into a frown, Peter shook his head. “I’m just too hungry to wait. I guess I have to have a Joey snack.”

The boy’s eyes flew wide open and he tried to pull back. “Noooo Unca Peter. No Joey nack!”

“Oh yes, Joey snack!” Peter flashed his eyes blue and let a growl loose deep in his throat as he rolled over on top of the boy and blew raspberries on his tummy.

“Noooooo!!!!!!” The screeching laughter could be heard throughout the house.

“What is going on in here?”

“Daddyyyyy, Safe me, safe me.” Joseph called out between laughter as Peter continued to growl and tickle. “Unca Peter eating me. No Joey nack, Daddy.”

“Well, if Uncle Peter would rather have a Joey Snack than Uncle Jack’s breakfast yummies, then I don’t know if there is anything I can do.” David Hale, Peter’s older brother said so seriously.

“You fights him, Daddy. Safe me.”

“Me fight the Left Hand of the Hale Pack? Then he would be eating a Daddy Snack.”

“I knows…we fights him together Daddy,” Joseph proclaimed. “Cause the Pack stronger together.”

David and Peter exchanged a grin, “Oh, no. Not the Pack!” Peter called out.

“Yeah!” Joseph growled as David pulled him out from under Peter and flipped him around on top. The little boy pressed his hands down like he was holding Peter down.

“I give. I give. No one can defeat the Pack.” Peter made strangling sounds like he was dying.

“Long live the Pack!” David called as he lifted a cheering Joseph into his arms. He carried him to the door before turning back. “Time to get up Petey. It’s your turn to take the kids to school and Cora has a field trip so she can’t be late.”

Peter waved a hand at his brother and waited for the door to close before he rolled over into a ball. A lifetime of memories poured into him as he remembered this day. He was going to go downstairs and listen to Cora complain they were going to be late. Derek would be picking on his sister, while Laura complained that she had to drive her little brother and two cousins to the high school. She was going to get mad at Derek and the three girls would leave without him, making Peter drive Derek to school as well. That would make Cora late and she would be on the last bus and have to sit with all of what she called the loser kids instead of her friends.

The adults were all getting ready to head to work. The Pack House was a veritable beehive of morning activity. There was anger and stress and hormones and love and family and pack. There was life and he could hear it and smell it and feel it. Not even when he was locked in his own mind in a coma did it feel as real as this. And if this wasn’t a dream, then it was real.

Peter sat up in bed and remembered. Cora’s field trip. That was the day Talia informed them that other packs would be coming into the territory for a summit. Ducaleon had requested permission to hold it on Hale land. He couldn’t remember how long it was before they arrived, a few weeks to a month. Duc was still making plans and talking packs into coming. But it was going to happen and Argent would come. He would come and Peter would make sure he never had a chance to destroy them again.

Chapter Seven

Noah took the morning to do a bit of research. Current events, Stiles’ recent school records, emails, and all the other bits of daily life to help jog his memory. He swiftly came to the conclusion that he was a wreck.

This was one period of his life that he had just sorta checked out on, and deep down he had always known it. But he never really owned it. Even when he got counseling briefly for alcohol addiction, he never wanted to see how far he had fallen.

Staring at the images of checks paid to the electric company, he was saddened to realize Stiles had learned to forge his signature so early in life. If he hadn’t locked away that permission slip the first time around, would Stiles have just signed it for him? How many times has he done that already?

OK, phase one in letting Stiles have the childhood he should have had, be the adult. Correction, be the sober adult who is interested in his kid’s life. Noah took a last look at the bills to make sure they were up to date for the month and put them away for later. He needed to make sure Stiles saw him working on this so the kid would relax and not go behind his back to check on things.

He looked around the house and realized he had been letting a lot slide around here. Groceries for one. Laundry, cleaning, repairs. Noah weighed housework against going out and getting the lay of the land and decided to split things up. He threw in a load of towels to wash and then grabbed his keys.

He had forgotten how clunky the computer was in this time period. At least he knew what to look forward to. Maybe he should invest a little in some things he knew would do well. Possibly pay off some bills and give a bump to Stiles’ college fund. Noah nodded to himself. He didn’t really know much about all of that but Peter had kept himself in expensive new cars with his day trading.

Peter had used his finance degree as just another way to protect the pack. And that was an excellent way to approach the man. Maybe he could work it into a conversation if he could just corner him.

Well, no time like the present to start. He knew for a fact that the Perpetual Sunrise was Peter’s favorite deli for lunch, so he headed in that direction with a quick stop off for a side order of newspapers and magazines. Newsweek, Time, the Wall Street Journal, and a couple of the local papers.

Noah entered the deli and traded nods with a few people he knew around town. He waited his turn in line at the counter to order. Looking around as if he was just looking for a seat, he quickly determined Peter wasn’t there yet. But it’s Thursday and Peter never missed an opportunity for Thursday at the deli.

Taking his number placard from the cashier, Noah took a seat in Peter’s favorite booth. From here he had full range of vision on both doors as well as the parking lot.

Noah spread out his papers and magazines to decide where to start. The cover of Time made him shake his head. Are We Giving Kids Too Many Drugs? He sat that one aside. Most days he wondered if he was giving his son enough. He needed to remember to keep that one out of the house. Stiles could go a little mental on a research binge when something hit him wrong. The last thing Noah needed was for Stiles to think Noah didn’t want him taking his meds.

He tapped the front page of Newsweek with Bush on the cover, remembering all of the Iraq criticism. While he might need to refresh his memory about where they were in that situation, it wasn’t an immediate need.

Noah shuffled through the papers until he found the Beacon Bulletin, the local town paper. It was honestly a third gossip rag, but it was relatively informative for local news. And that’s what he needed now, local news. Because, let’s be honest, even if he had paid attention the first time around, there is no way he could be expected to remember everything going on in a town this size. He started reading and lost himself between news and memory.

He was deep into a story about staffing cuts at the school and his realization that somewhere in there Stiles had lost the only school counselor that he would talk to about his mother. He also noted that XYZ. He was surprised when Miss Jo brought his plate to the table.

“Well you look like a man seeking knowledge, Deputy Stilinski.”

Noah looked up with a polite smile. “Just realized I let my personal life get a little out of balance and maybe I should catch up on current events.”

She gave him a considering look. “It is true that sometimes the only way to see our future is to look to our past. But it is equally true that to find our future, we must often let go of our past.”

“I’m not sure I know what that means.”

Miss Jo gave an enigmatic little smile, “Just a little reminder that not all knowledge is to be found in little scraps of paper. Focus on the now and the people in it until the path to the future you want appears.” She turned and left Noah trying to figure out what the woman might know.

He moved the papers aside and dug into his lunch. He was about halfway done when Tara Graeme entered the deli. She scanned the room as she accepted a meal already prepared. Noah remembered that she ate lunch at the Sunrise at least twice a week and had a standing order so she could grab it on the run. When she spotted Noah she looked surprised then gave a small grin before heading for his table.

“Tara, is this where you keep getting that amazing potato salad?” Noah started while motioning her to take a seat.

She grinned, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you here before, Noah. Don’t you normally head for Jake’s when you don’t bring lunch?”

“Well, you have to admit that Jake’s Diner makes the best burgers in town.”

“I certainly know that Stiles is addicted to their curley fries. That boy has half the deputies at the station wrapped around his finger and willing to go completely out of their way to get him those fries and a shake.” She adjusted her plate and then started eating while giving Noah a once over.

He endured her looks as he motioned for another coffee. “I’m just glad that no one minds when I have to bring him up there. I hate doing it, but needs must.”

“That boy is a charmer when he wants to be. Frankly, anyone that has trouble with him probably needs an attitude adjustment and a closer look.” She took another bite and chewed carefully before sipping her tea. “You’re looking well today. I didn’t expect you out and about.”

Noah paused and stared at her a minute, thinking through his options and making some decisions. Tara and he had been through a lot. She was brought in as a rookie just after Noah had lost that status. They had gone to bat for one another when needed and there were few he would trust as much for backup. “So, did you think I would be home sleeping off a bender?”

Tara slowly set down her glass then gave him that steady gaze that had convinced more than one perp to confess. “You have been under a great deal of strain this last year. Different people have different methods of coping.”

“I would say spending most nights drunk isn’t coping, it’s just finding a way to temporarily numb the pain.”

“I think I would agree. But I think that doesn’t matter much if the person in question isn’t ready to see it themselves.”

“The person in question has a kid who is forgetting day by day how to be the kid in this relationship. Claudia would kick my ass if she could see that.” Noah swallowed hard then glanced away. “I will never stop loving her, but she’s gone and I’m not. I need to focus on the family that’s still here.”

Tara nodded then reached out a hand to place over Noah’s. “I’m glad to hear it. If there’s anything you need, you let me know. I’ll organize whatever you need.”

“I need to focus some time on my son. Rebuild some bridges there. I know I will need some help for the other stuff, heck, we both probably need some help. But I need him to know he’s not alone.” Noah thought about other aspects of this year. “I know we were discussing the possibility of me running for Sheriff next year…”

“Noah, you’re the right man for the job. Look, it’s November and you are not required to file until March. Give yourself a couple months to make some changes. You’re the only one with the education and background to do well in the position. And we know you are the only one considering that isn’t a sexist, racist asshole. Don’t make a decision until you have to.” Tara went back to eating and didn’t give Noah a chance to disagree.

“Fine. But, Stiles has to come first. I need to know he is ok before I go running off on an election bid.” Noah accepted his coffee refill and leaned back to chat with Tara for the rest of her lunch. Her comments and sharp barbs about activities at the station and the Sheriff’s lackluster performance of late did more to fill in his memories than all of the stories in the paper.

Noah still needed to connect with Peter to figure out if he was alone, but he was feeling more confident by the moment that he could do this. He might not know all the supernatural BS, but he could do what was needed to take care of his son.

Peter listened to the little jingle of bells on the door of Jake’s Diner. He much preferred the Perpetual Sunrise, but could admit that the shakes at Jake’s were far superior to anyone else in town. Even the ice cream parlor didn’t quite match the perfect thickness that Jake’s was able to create.

Still, Jake’s was Noah’s favorite lunch time stop and he figured if the deputy had a lunch break that he would be stopping in here. Peter wasn’t sure what happened back on the Nemeton, but he was able to accept that this wasn’t a dream. Somehow he had been thrust back in time.

He spent most of the morning racking his brain for memories. Everything played out the way he recalled. He was able to race Cora to school in time to catch the last bus out. She complained but was at least relieved to not be stuck in school all day without anyone else.

Peter had noticed Melissa McCall on the bus with a young Scott and Stiles. He would never admit it but he had gone a little weak in the knees at the sight of the boy. It was why he was here at Jake’s instead of trying to weasel himself into the conversation between Talia and Ducaleon.

Noah had been on the nemeton with Peter when that blast had happened. Then there was a white room with what looked like a hospital corridor. A younger Peter and a girl he was calling Corinne were in a room with a baby in Peter’s arms when Talia came in, angry. Upset that the child was born. Reminders about the duty of the Left Hand. Then her claws in the back of his neck and everything faded away.

He isn’t sure what to make of it because the next thing he knew he was waking up in his own bed this morning. Was that a vision of something yet to happen, or a past he can’t remember? It was all so completely frustrating. Now isn’t the time to figure it out, so for now he will keep his own counsel on it and see what surfaces.

Damn, he just hoped that he wasn’t here alone. The Argents, Stiles, Magic, this vision, everything that went wrong, he would fix it all alone if he had to but he didn’t want to be alone any more. He spent six long damned years locked alone in his mind. He was so fucking tired of being alone.

So here he was, hoping against hope that Noah had made it back here too. If Noah had returned, then they needed to make plans. Gerard Argent was going to die one way or another, but some backup with the hunters would be appreciated.

And if Noah hadn’t returned with him, well, there was still Stiles to consider. The Pack had a Spark living and growing in their territory and it was their sacred duty to see him trained. Peter had to make sure that Noah didn’t lose his son again. Not to mention the damage to magic if Stiles wasn’t encouraged to embrace this part of himself.

So, either way he needed to become acquainted with Deputy Noah Stilinski. Seeing Stiles on that bus today had reminded him of that fact. He definitely needed to expand his network among the various practitioners so that he can find an appropriate teacher. Luckily Stiles’ abilities hadn’t awoken during this time period so they have a little time.

Peter forced himself to relax and keep on target. He couldn’t make plans for Argent until after Talia made her announcement. Focus, Peter, one target at a time. And right now the target is Noah.

He waved at Emma, who was pouring a cup of coffee at a table and gave a nod when she held up the coffee pot. Peter slipped into a booth and presented Emma with his most charming smile when she arrived with the cup and the pot.

“Well look who we have here. Peter Hale slumming at the Diner. Hon, I didn’t think you would be caught dead here without the little ones following you around like little ducklings.” Emma looked around, “And here you are all by your little lonesome. Just looking for the coffee or can I interest you in a slice of pie?”

“First I should start with a bite to eat. I was feeling especially hungry when I passed by and decided that one of your French Onion Burgers would hit the spot. With a side of your seasoned curly fries, of course.”

“Can I tempt you with a milkshake?”

“Not today. I believe this coffee will do me.”

“Just give one of us a nod if you need more. The High School lunch rush is about to start.”

Peter watched her put in his order before she gave a call out to a couple of the waitresses who were taking a smoke break out back. Everyone was back inside as a deluge of high school students came in and spread out in every empty seat available.

The buzz of a multitude of conversations flowed over him and he just took it in, listening for phrases and warning key words that would hint at dangers a Left Hand should investigate. So often the kids were the most open with information, not understanding what gems they were providing.

One of the servers dropped off his meal and he took a moment to just savor the flavors.

“Daddy, there’s no tables. Can we eat at the counter?”

“I suppose so, Allison, find us a couple of stools.”

Peter froze mid-chew and glanced around, still holding the burger up in front of his face. Chris Argent looked…younger. Much less burdened. Peter wondered if Chris had yet to realize just how far from their sacred Code his family had strayed.

“Should I save one for Mom?”

“No, she has business to complete.”

“Is this going to be our new town?”

“No, honey, Gerard has business in town later this month and he and his associates will start arriving next week. We’re just here to open up one of the houses for him and make sure it’s stocked before we head out to Kansas City tomorrow.”

“Is Kansas City our new town?”

“Our new town is a place called Springfield. I just have some business in Kansas City before we move into our new house.”

Peter kept an eye on them as they ordered and started to eat. He noticed that the first wave of teens had left minutes before the next wave started to appear. Though he kept watch, Noah never made an appearance. It was just a long shot anyway. Peter didn’t even know the man’s schedule. He was just a deputy at this point.

Somehow he was taken by suprise when two teenaged girls plopped down in the booth across from him.

“Really, Uncle Peter?” Laura flipped her hair over her shoulder as she waved at the server at the counter and held up two fingers and then six more. The waitress just nodded and pointed up at the milkshake sign and held up one finger and then three. Laura blew her a kiss and turned back to Peter.

This morning…well, this morning he thought it was a dream. He was afraid it was a dream. Now, he knows it’s real and here sits Laura so vibrant and alive. Peter did what he always did when he was at a loss for words. He gave her a completely knowing look and then took another bite of his burger.

“I don’t know why you felt you needed to wait for me here, but I got Mom’s message. Derek doesn’t have basketball practice today anyway, but I will make sure I pick him up after school and get right home for the family meeting.”

“As long as you are aware you have a responsibility.” He dabbed at the edge of his mouth with his napkin. “Let’s just be careful mentioning our schedules in public.”

“Seriously, Uncle Peter, do you have to be so paranoid?” Elizabeth Hale slouched down in the seat next to Laura. She was his brother Philip’s eldest daughter, preferred to be called Beth so she wouldn’t be compared to her maternal grandmother, and worshipped the ground Laura walked on. The girl had dreams of someday being Laura’s Second, but she lacked the fortitude to stand up to an Alpha and tell her when she’s wrong. If only she had lived long enough, maybe she would have grown into the role…

“My darling niece, use the nose you were born with and tell me what you smell in here.” His voice was low but brooked no argument.

Both Laura and Beth froze then leaned back in their seats while taking slow deep breaths. Laura caught it first. Good girl, she’s been studying. It took Beth a full three minutes before she pinpointed the hunter at the counter.

“What are they doing here?” Laura whispered to Peter.

“I suspect that is why your Mother wants to meet today. Just keep your head. Don’t draw attention to yourself. And, make sure you drive the kids straight home.” Peter relaxed as he snacked on his fries. “Please, don’t let me put you off your meals. And for goodness sakes, don’t stare. If you can’t act natural then take the food with you back to school.”

Beth seemed to withdraw inward, her earlier bravado gone. Laura was stiff but trying. Peter sighed and motioned for togo containers and the check. He paid and got the girls on their way with no argument. They were safer at school anyway. Peter knew for a fact that Chris would never start something with his daughter in tow. He had been militant about sparing her the training until she was of age. But there was no reason to put them on his radar.

Peter figured he had a few hours to burn until he needed to pick up Cora and the other kids from school. He got in the car and settled in to wait. Might as well see if he could find out where dear old Gerard would be staying.

Noah waited in his car as the last bus pulled into the school to unload. It was running late and a teacher had walked around to notify parents that it had been delayed on it’s return. Even though Melissa was supposed to bring Stiles home, Noah had thought to surprise him and take him out to dinner.

He watched as the kids filed off the bus and stood in rows to be checked off the lists before they could be released. He smiled as he watched them, a curious combination of exhausted from the ride and excited to see their parents. He skimmed the lines and realized something was missing. Or rather someone…someones were missing.

Noah was already exiting the vehicle when one of the administrators headed for him.

“Deputy Stilinski.”

“Where is my son?”

“If you could follow me, Sir. The Principal would like to speak to you.” She turned and started walking toward the main office before he could ask another question.

“You won’t tell me what’s happening? I didn’t see Mrs. McCall or her son in that line, either.”

“It would be best if I let Principal Coates explain.

Noah gritted his teeth as he bit back what he wanted to say. She led him into the Office, gave two knocks to the door, then ushered Noah inside. He had his mouth open to demand an answer and then just let it snap shut as he noticed Peter Hale sitting in the second visitor’s chair.

“Deputy Stilinski, thank you for joining us,” Principal Coates started.

Peter gave Noah a considering look before turning back, “Is there a reason we need a Sheriff’s Deputy present to speak?”

“We do not require law enforcement for this meeting. Deputy Stilinski was asked here as a parent.” She held up both hands to stop them from speaking. “If you would just allow me to explain first.”

Coates took a breath and then nodded at them when they remained silent. “Thank you. As you know the kids went on a field trip to Sacramento today. They all had fun and enjoyed the sights. The last stop of the day was at the Railroad Museum. Cora Hale and Stiles Stilinski were assigned to the group chaperoned by Mrs. Melissa McCall along with her son Scott and another girl, Erica Reyes. I want to assure you that by all reports the children were well behaved for Mrs. McCall. They were in the last tour group and the bus had already loaded all of the other children. They were just waiting for Mrs. McCall’s group to finish.”

Noah took a deep breath because if Scott and Stiles were involved, there was bound to be trouble. He glanced at Peter’s face and he was just mouthing to himself, Cora.

“Emergency vehicles arrived and the bus was forced to move. We later learned that some teen boys from one of the private schools touring today had decided to step away to smoke in an area where flammables were kept.”

“I can imagine. Just tell me none of them were hurt,” Noah demanded.

“No one was injured from the fire. The fire alarm was activated. However, young Erica is epileptic and the flashing lights caused a seizure as Mrs. McCall tried to lead the children to the emergency exit. Scott inhaled a bit of smoke and it triggered an asthma attack. Honestly, Stiles and Cora came out of it without a scratch, but the two of them were quite heroic carrying Scott between them so that Mrs McCall could carry Erica out.”

“The bus continued home when it appeared they would be taking all of the children to the hospital to be checked out. Vice Principal Wyatt drove down as soon as we were notified of an issue to get more information. At the time, we did not have the names of the students involved or we would have called all the parents immediately. As it stands, Mr. and Mrs. Reyes are already at the hospital. They have offered the McCalls a ride home as soon as the children are released.”

“That’s fine. But I feel you are avoiding the subject of our children.” Peter leaned forward. “If you could just tell us where his son and my niece are.”

“Yes, well, Mr. Hale…as I said they are both fine. They were worried about Cora at first because she took in a lot of smoke, but when they gave her a second check her lungs were completely clear. Stiles responded well to oxygen on scene and seemed to have no trouble. However, there was a bit of an…altercation.”

“Oh, Lord.”

“Quite.”

“Cora?”

“Or Stiles?”

“They seemed to reach the same realization at the same time. One of the firefighters mentioned that the fire was started by a lit cigarette near the janitor’s closet. Cora and Stiles had apparently witnessed the boys smoking in that area and then throwing the cigarettes into the closet when their headmaster approached them. The two children decided to take matters into their own hands and bring the boys to justice.”

Noah dropped his head into his hands. “I think I can imagine.”

“Cora was…enthusiastic…in her attack. Stiles is quite…inventive…with a pair of handcuffs. The police reached them before there was any serious injury to the older boys. And, since there was security footage of the events leading to the fire, the boys have been taken in for questioning. Cora and Stiles were released to Mr. Wyatt and he is driving them home as we speak.”

“You’re sure they are fine?” Noah has to know.

“Yes, I am sure. The school will need to write an incident report but I’m sure that can wait until tomorrow. We are just happy all of the children are safe. I recommend taking a little time to make sure you are calm when the children arrive. Please feel free to wait here on campus or you can come back if you need to step away for a few minutes.” She gave the two of them a considering look. “Let me get an estimate on when they will arrive.” Coates left the office and shut the door behind her.

“Oh, Stiles,” Noah murmured to himself. “If I had known you would get into this kind of trouble, maybe I wouldn’t have changed things today.”

“What, pray tell, do you mean by change things today, Deputy?” Peter was staring at him intently.

Noah tried to appear nonchalant as he watched Peter’s expression, or rather lack of an expression. “You know, made a different choice. Almost didn’t sign the permission slip. Just one of a thousand little choices in life that can change everything if you just make a different choice.”

Peter just stared at him a minute then cocked his head to the side, “I understand what you mean. Today we were almost too late for the field trip. Cora had to get on the last bus. I remember thinking this morning that we were going to be late. If I had just acted on those thoughts, then she would have been here early and able to ride with her friends.”

“Choosing when to act is the real challenge, I guess.” They were both silent a moment. Peter’s thoughts who knows where and Noah desperately wondering if his imagination was filling in context that didn’t exist. Noah started tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair in the rhythm of Peter’s favorite song. A song that hasn’t been written yet.

Peter started to hum the melody and froze. “Noah, if I am mistaken then I ask you to forget this conversation ever took place, but if I am not, please put me out of my misery.”

“He said he would try to send us both, but I was afraid to hope. You remember, don’t you Peter?”

“Who said? What happened, Noah?”

The door opened before Noah could respond. Coates entered with a smile. “They are approximately an hour out. Would you like me to get you something while you wait?”

“No, thank you.” Peter stood up and reached out to shake her hand. “I have an errand to run. I had planned after I picked Cora up, but I might as well finish it before she gets here.”

“What about you, Deputy?”

“I think I should probably step away and clear my head. I’ll be here when he arrives.” Noah kept his silence and followed Peter out the door. They made it to their cars headed out to a picnic table that they frequently met at for lunch when Noah needed out of the office. There were some kids playing on the equipment but this table was far enough from the rest of the park to make it private.

“What happened, Noah?”

“What do you remember?”

“Light and an explosion, then I was in a white corridor with rooms. I saw something in one of the rooms. I still don’t know if it was a memory or a vision or just a figment of my imagination, but suddenly I was waking up in my bed this morning.”

“The explosion was a bomb. They destroyed Beacon Hills to make sure they took out the Nemeton. I was in a white room with Stiles. He said he was pooling magic all around the world to try to create a thousand or more new nemeta to save magic. But the bomb in the ritual like it was killed the nemeton and all of the others with it. It was the end of life on Earth. So he used his pooled magic, the ritual at the nemeton, and over one hundred and fifty ritual human sacrifices to throw us back in time. He was certain he could send me, but he wasn’t sure you would make it.”

Peter dropped his head down onto the table top. “That explains so much. Well, I was wondering how much I should change when it comes to the Argents, but now I vote everything.”

“Peter.”

“Hell, no. They are death on a pale and pasty horse. I guarantee you I will take them all out along with the horse they ride in on. You do know when we are, right?” Peter’s eyes were blazing as he tapped on the table in front of Noah.

“I know the date, but your Hale History of Beacon Hills didn’t mention 2003 in your presentation.”

“This is one of those major points in time where Gerard Argent starts his little war. Right now a group of alphas is planning a peace summit with hunters. They want to call a truce to all of the senseless violence. Gerard Argent is going to agree to meet with them to draw up a treaty. Thing is, Gerard doesn’t want peace. It’s a trap. He’s going to poison them. Then he’s going to kill his own men in a way that it will look like the wolves did it. He will kill all of the ones present except an alpha named Ducaleon Blackwood. Instead of killing him, Gerard blinds Ducaleon and sends him back to let his pack dispose of him. This sets off years of bloodshed between hunters and weres. It also leads to Ducaleon creating an Alpha Pack that is out to destroy all the packs out of revenge for their not supporting him.”

“Ok, agreed. That sounds bad. Whatever we do, we have to make sure it doesn’t come back to haunt your Pack. I need the Hales to be alive and well so that Stiles has support to learn his…magic.”

Peter nodded and held out a hand with a smile. “Agreed. Together we will eliminate threats while making sure Stiles is never alone.”