"—over," Nico finished, dropping Percy's arm quickly and jabbing his hands into his pockets like fists.

Percy glanced around. He was pretty sure they were in the woods he'd gone jogging in awhile ago, but where exactly, he had no clue. "What's wrong?" he asked immediately, knowing Nico wouldn't have hijacked him out of there mid conversation in front of the mortals unless it really was important.

"Look at that," Nico said, raising a bony finger to a tree stump.

Percy decided not to roll his eyes just yet, but a decidedly dead, decidedly lifeless stump of wood (despite the unusually large size) was nothing to be impressed by in his book. "Okay. What am I looking at here? Besides a stump?"

"It's called a Nemeton," Nico told him. "They're sources of power for the druids."

Now Nico had really lost him. "Druids?" Percy said. "I've never heard of a druid in ancient Greek myths."

"Well, like you told me... werewolves here. Anything could have happened," Nico said quickly, like he had something to hide. Percy shot him a look—the kid had guilt painted all over his face. He had been getting up to something in the last few months, hadn't he? It seemed like Nico was somehow so much wiser than the rest of them... How was he always in the know? The kid had definitely earned his respect several times over. "Anyway, when I found it earlier, it was radiating death and evil. So I sucked all the juice out of it. No more power, no more Nemeton. But," Nico said, and pointed to a tiny green speck on the side of the stump. "Obviously, the druid found a way around my solution."

Percy crouched down in front of the stump and inspected the green leaf that had sprouted from the dead wood. "You think that body was used to power up the Nemeton again?" Percy guessed.

Nico shrugged. "It's my best bet. But that kind of a power source... it's not really enough. Mortals don't really get the same kind of juice that the rest of us do. Werewolf alphas... other druids... demigods..."

Percy gnawed on his thumb nail and stared grimly at the leaf before tearing it off the wood in frustration. Not that he suspected it made a difference. If the tree stump was really alive inside of all that... There wasn't much he could do. Briefly, he wondered what burning it down would do. "I think you should leave town," Percy said.

"What?" Nico's voice was grated, sharp—he hadn't expected that, to be sure. "Are you kicking me out?"

"No, of course not," Percy rushed to explain, mentally smacking his forehead. Of course it came out that way. "I just mean, godly blood? You and I are prime candidates on that sacrifice front. And of the two of us, who could physically survive the strangling or the sacrifice? Unless this darach figures out my Achilles heel... Look, I just want you to be safe. You're basically family. If you got hurt getting mixed up in this stupid thing with my cousin, I'd never forgive myself."

Nico stared at his shoes silently for awhile. "I'm safest when I'm with you," he said after a moment. "And, listen. It's worse. I checked up on a few things after I found the names of the people who are killed. They're not making it to the Underworld. Whatever the darach does with them, they're keeping them from reaching my dad. So now it's my responsibility to either find the spirits or stop anymore from being destroyed. Nobody else can die, Percy. It's upsetting the natural order."

Nico had been busy after all, Percy realized. He'd been in town, what, one full day, and he already had figured out half the problem. "Yeah, you're not so bad to have watching my back, either," Percy agreed. "Okay, what do you say? Tomorrow, let's ditch class and hunt ourselves a druid."

The bell shrilled, ending Ms. Blake's incredibly dull lecture. Scott snatched up his books and hustled out of there, yawning into his arm. If he didn't get a nap during lunch... Stiles caught Scott's arm as they hurried out of the classroom. "Wait up. Have you seen Percy today?" he asked.

"No," Scott said, pausing and letting Stiles haul him up against the bank of lockers. They both dropped their voices and leaned their heads in. "Same for Allison and Isaac, now that I think about it."

"Listen, man, we can't trust Percy," Stiles blurted.

Scott blinked in confusion. "Why not? I mean, he's kept our secrets before..." he started to protest, but Stiles was shaking his head emphatically in denial.

"Okay, okay, you remember the night at the motel? When Lydia and Percy and I all got Boyd out of the bathtub?" Stiles asked, holding his hands up to keep Scott from interrupting him. "Well, Lydia and I started remembering things differently, and when we talked about it... other memories came back. Like, memories of Percy moving the water off of Boyd with his mind kind of memories, are you getting me now?"

"You think Percy messed with your heads?" Scott asked, rubbing a knuckle into his eye. This was a lot to take in before lunch. "How bad? Did he hurt you or something?"

Stiles shook his head. "Not as far as either of us know," he admitted. "But he's hiding something, okay? And I think it's time we find out just exactly who that freaky teleporting friend of his is."

That was inexplicable, Scott had to admit. None of them had known what to do following the disappearance of Percy and his mystery friend. It was unsettling, even if the darkness they feared was in the body of a fourteen year old boy who looked malnourished and hollow. "Well, got any theories?"

Stiles made a eermmm noise and spread his hands. The warning bell shrilled and Scott started to hurry on, but Stiles hustled to keep pace with him. "Wait. Wait. Okay, I have a few ideas. Number one," he said, taking two steps for every one of Scott's. "Percy's a selkie."

"A seal person?" Scott snorted. "Okay, try again."

"Number two, he knows who the darach is and has been feeding them information this whole time. Maybe he's a darach's little apprentice, right? Baby darach. Darach-ette. I mean, it seems a little sketchy he just shows up when Isaac's going to be put into the foster care system out of Beacon Hills. Right?"

It didn't sound very plausible to Scott, but he hadn't expected the teleportation until that happened, so he couldn't rule it out. "Okay, and what else?"

"Three... either him or his friend actually are the darach."

"You think it could be that bad?" Scott asked, but then he shook his head. What did they really know about Percy, anyway? Last night was enough evidence for him that something funky was going on here. And, to make matters worse, he was always around when something darach-y happened... "I agree something's off," he told Stiles. "Tell the others to steer clear for awhile, okay? I'll ask Isaac if he's seen Percy or if he'll be at the memorial tonight."

Stiles nodded and pushed away. "I'll see you after next period," he called, raising his hand.

Derek folded his arms and stared down from his burned out house's window. It wasn't every day he got visitors. Particularly visitors that weren't werewolves. But here they were—two boys, one in a black aviator's jacket and the other in an orange tee shirt and jeans. They could have been brothers, by the similar black hair they had, but the shorter one certainly had a foreboding look about him. They hadn't noticed him, he knew—Derek had crouched when they emerged from the tree line and neither had thought to check the windows.

"You're sure it's here?" the older one asked, giving the house a wary once over.

"I'm not a dowsing rod, Percy," his friend snapped back. "But yes, I'm sure. The sorcery used on the body last night's all over here."

"How can you even tell something like that?" Percy asked, fidgeting all over. It was obvious he didn't want to go into the house, just watching him glance over his shoulder like that. Well, if they came inside, Derek would give them something to be scared by.

His friend rolled his eyes. "It's death magic, idiot. Whatever the darach did to the body, he did to this place, too." He hesitated. "Or someone in this place, I guess."

"You think there's someone in there?" Percy yelped. "Look, Nico, this is getting a little American Horror Story for me, alright? Look at the place. I don't want my arm cut off by Bloody Face."

"American what?" Nico replied, bewildered.

"It's a TV show—never mind. Fine, if you say we go in, we go in." Percy reached into his pocket and drew out a ballpoint pen. "On your count."

Derek growled and they both tensed.

"Get back," Percy ordered his friend, shoving him behind him.

That was when Derek crashed out his own window. He landed on the front lawn in a pile of twigs and bared his fangs at them, snarling. "What do you want?" he demanded. "This is my house."

Percy suddenly was holding a glowing bronze sword in his hands that he leveled at Derek's throat. "I'm not afraid of you, darach," he said stubbornly. "Start talking. What are you doing with the people you're killing's spirits?"

"I haven't killed anyone," Derek spat, and lunged for the boy. His eyes grew wide but he held his ground and tried to slash at Derek with his blade. Derek went low, under the cut and knocked him flat on his back. "But I'm not afraid to start," he added, snarling down into Percy's face. The twerp had picked the wrong day to accuse him of murder and threaten him on his own property. Now more than ever, when Derek was left with a broken pack and the Alphas egging him into killing again... They wanted a body, he'd give them one.

Suddenly he was being hauled off by some unseen force. Derek felt himself flying through the air where he smashed against a tree and slid to the earth. The other boy was staring at him, his eyes blazing black with a palm outstretched toward him. "Alright, Percy?" he asked, not taking his eyes off Derek.

"Fine," Percy wheezed, pulling himself up. Derek was annoyed to see it was true—he hadn't even gotten a single bloody scratch from Derek's claws. He was as useless as everyone thought, wasn't he? "He's fast."

"Take it easy, both of you," Nico said. "He's not the darach."

"Of course I'm not," Derek snapped.

Percy blinked in surprise. "I thought that was how you tracked him."

"No, I tracked the darach's spells. He's just been targeted by some magic as well." Nico wrinkled his nose. "No good, either. Who are you?"

"You first," Derek said, dusting off his jeans and climbing back to his feet. "You come on my house, accuse me of murder, and try to stab me... I'm not answering anything until I get an explanation."

"Sorry," Percy said, flashing him an embarrassed grin. "I'm Percy Jackson. Do you remember ever being victimized by a darach?"

Derek's mind began to churn. "Jackson?" he asked. "You're not Isaac's cousin."

"How do you know Isaac?" Percy asked, taken aback. "You're not... his pack leader or something?" He bit his lip. "Hey, I'm real sorry about Boyd."

That stung a bit. Derek tried not to wince at the mention of his beta. "Derek Hale," he introduced. "I'd ask you in, but the place burned down years ago." He glanced at the wreck behind him. "Now what were you saying about a darach?"

"You've been the subject of a spell from one, for one thing," Nico spoke up suddenly, eying him warily. "So don't let your guard down, Percy, I don't trust him at all."

"Oh, come on," Percy argued. "If Isaac trusts him, then I trust him."

Nico threw up his hands. "You are getting us all killed," he sighed, but he shook his head. "Fine. Let's talk."

Isaac answered the door and came face to face with an angry looking red haired girl in an orange tee shirt just like Percy's. "Where is he?" she demanded, pushing past Isaac and into the house. "I need to find him right now. Percy, idiot. Where is he?" The girl spun on Isaac. "You're the cousin, right? Well?"

A little overwhelmed, Isaac shook his head. "He never came home last night. He and his other cousin vanished around midnight. Who are you, exactly?"

"I'm Rachel Dare," she said, sticking out her hand and shaking his enthusiastically. "And Percy needs to see me right now. Lives depend on it. Where is Ms. Jackson?"

Isaac didn't like that transition. "She's at the McCall's house. They're cooking."

"Keep an eye on her tonight," Rachel Dare warned him, and grabbed her cell phone out of her pocket. "Won't answer my calls, won't connect the IM's... Where is he?" A moment later, Percy's cell phone started ringing in the kitchen.

"Yeah, he forgot to bring it with him, I guess," Isaac told her. "Can I take a message?"

"No, I did not fly here from New York to leave a message with his cousin," she barked. "I'm finding him. You want to give him a message? Tell him that Rachel Dare has really bad news and that if he doesn't haul his butt down to me right now, there's going to be trouble!" She dropped an oversized purse onto the table and rubbed her forehead. "I'm being rude. Sorry. It was a long flight and I am not happy." She reached into her bag and pulled out what looked like a sketch book and flipped to a page. "Do you know this person?"

Rachel Dare held up a very life like sketch of Ms. Blake. Isaac got a chill.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"I told you already. I'm Rachel," she snapped. "Now answer my question."

"I'm not answering anything," he said, folding his arms. "How did you get that drawing?"

She bit her lip. "I dreamed it last night," she said. "And... Oh, Styx," she mumbled. "Fine. I'm a little bit psychic—don't freak." She cut a look at Isaac. "Aaaand you're totally calm. Of course." She arched a brow.

"You're not the only psycho red head in this town," Isaac told her. "Now what exactly did you see in your dream?"

"Trouble," the girl answered darkly. Her face darkened and her eyes glowed an eerie green. When she opened her mouth to speak, a green fog spewed out and spilled onto the floor, pooling around their feet. Isaac leaped back in shock, staring at the girl in amazement. Then she began to speak in a voice much older and wispier than a moment before.

"You shall go beneath the earth and find who was lost,

Yet there's a blood price to pay at too high a cost

One shall rise to defeat the dark one on his own

But come the first snow, you shall stand alone."

She blinked and straightened. "Basically, the darach's gunning for the guardians. And I dreamed that Sally's in danger. And I think she's doing something to keep us from communicating. Everything's going so crazy in here..."

"Go back," Isaac said, gripping her arm. "What did you just say?" he demanded.

Rachel Dare stared up at him in confusion. "I... What? She's gunning for guardians?" she repeated.

"Before that. When you spewed the green smoke—" Isaac snarled, and shook her roughly. "What did that mean?"

Rachel shook her head. "I don't remember. I never remember the prophecies—let me go, that hurts!" she yelled, and clubbed him in the head with her sketchbook. "Did I give you a prophecy? What did I say?"

Isaac's blood was rushing in his ears. He hated that word—alone—it made his stomach churn. He growled at her. It felt like something was crushing his head(that was the panic, he realized dimly, not that it did much to stop the anxiety). "What did you mean?"

A plastic hairbrush smashed into his face. "Let—me—go," growled Rachel Dare, wrenching herself free of his grip. She stepped back defensively, wielding the hairbrush like a knife.

"Sorry," he said. "I'll let Percy know."

Then he took off out the door. There was one person he wanted to see right now—and that was Allison. And he had a feeling he knew where he'd find her. At home.

"Wait!" Rachel Dare shouted after him. "I have to warn you! Something terrible is going to happen!"

As far as Isaac was concerned, everything terrible was already happening. He couldn't see how things got much worse from here.

Stiles was amazed by how fast Derek had gotten to the hospital once he heard that Cora had been attacked by Aiden, but then again, they were siblings. And, as he often forgot, they really only did have each other in this world. Each other and Peter, but in Stiles' book that was actually a detriment. "Hey," he said as Derek loomed in the doorway, and then glanced over his shoulder to see (of all people) Percy Jackson and his freaky friend with the teleporting. With a sword hanging at the short one's side, nonetheless. "Hey," he said again, a little more concerned.

"How is she?" Derek demanded, marching in and crouching at the bedside. "Is she awake?"

"Not yet," Stiles said. "The doctors said it'll take time... But they don't really know what's wrong. I was hoping you had some kind of werewolf mojo going on to fix it. Are you aware you've been followed here?" He pointed to Percy and his friend.

"We gave him a lift," Percy interjected, patting his friend on the head. His friend shrugged him off in annoyance and wrapped his arms around himself. "We were just having a conversation when you called."

Stiles glanced between the three of them. Derek had several red scratches on his face and a hint of blood on his shirt. The younger one had leaves in his hair and was rather dirty. Percy's shirt was torn up. "Right, of course," he said. "A conversation."

Cora stirred in the bed and Derek snapped to attention at her side. "What's happening to me?" she murmured, gripping his hand tightly.

"I don't know," he told her gently, his voice cracking. Derek wrapped his hands around hers carefully, seeming for all the world like a gentle giant, not a werewolf killer. "I don't know, but I'm not going to leave you. Not again."

Her eyes flickered again. "Good," she whispered, as they closed.

Stiles turned away from them to give them a moment and instead got to witness a curly red haired girl appear in the doorway. He thought only family was really supposed to be able to get in here—but, then again, he had just walked in. "Percy?" the girl said.

Percy jumped and spun around. "Rachel?" he exclaimed.

"Rachel?" his friend repeated, sounding confused. "Who's Rachel?"

"Who are you?" Rachel asked the teleporting shrimp, folding her arms. Something Stiles wondered as well.

"More like, what are you doing here?" Percy asked. "You should be at school!"

"I've got some news. Okay? It's pretty important." She glanced over at Stiles. "Perhaps best shared privately?"

Stiles nodded, and glanced down the hall where it looked like his dad was finishing some paperwork. "Oh, great," he muttered. "I've got to talk to him." He jogged after him, ducking past the ginger girl. "Dad, wait!"

When his dad turned, his face was already set in a grim line. Stiles prepared himself for the tongue lashing of a lifetime. Boy, did he look pissed.

"Percy, I think your mom is in danger," Rachel said, which definitely caught Percy's attention.

"Mrs. Jackson's in trouble?" Nico demanded, his hand traveling toward the hilt of his sword almost instinctively. Percy glanced at his cousin, for the first time glad Nico had insisted on staying in Beacon Hills. "What happened? How do you know?"

Rachel glanced at Percy for confirmation and it was then that Percy realized (somewhat guiltily) the two hadn't met before. He'd assumed they might have known each other from the battle of New York, or the celebrations afterward... but then again, Rachel lived in a cave in the woods or a prestigious prep school, and Nico didn't frequent either of those place very often. "Sorry. Rachel, this is Nico. Nico, Rachel's the vessel for the oracle of Delphi. It's a long story. I'll explain later, okay?" To his credit, Nico simply nodded his head and looked expectantly at Rachel. "Please. What's wrong with my mom?"

Rachel took a deep breath and dug in her big satchel. "Last night, I had a dream. I mean, normally the nightmares are just standard stuff. It's rarely people I know yet. And it's usually very abstract. But it was your mom, last night. She... she was inside of a tree. And this monster... it was stalking her. Like prey. I think she was trapped." Rachel pulled a big sketchbook out of her satchel and clutched it against her chest, trying to gauge his reaction. Well, on a scale of one to panic attack, he was right around hyperventilation.

Percy felt like someone had punched him in the side. His head spun. In all of this time as a demigod, he'd spent so much time trying to keep his mother safe. And even here, away from the gods, she wasn't? Stalked. Like prey.

"Do you need to sit down?" Nico asked, catching his arm cautiously and studying his face. "You're really pale."

Rachel's face swam in front of him. He tried to focus on her and gripped her shoulders tightly. If he hadn't had her to hold on to right then, he just might have fallen over. "What happened next?" he demanded. "What happened? Did the thing get her?"

She shook her head and held up her hands. "My dad came into the room and said he heard me crying in my sleep. I guess I scared him half to death because I was kind of sleep drawing, too. He thought I was wide awake until I looked at him and my eyes were rolled up in my head. But... Do any of these people look familiar to you?"

Rachel flipped open her sketchbook to a charcoal portrait that was smeared at the edges. It was... Percy raised his eyebrows. Derek Hale. "He's the monster?" he asked, lowering his voice, and glancing over his shoulder to where Derek was still holding his sister's hand and looking positively panicked.

"I don't know. Look," she said, turning pages. "I have more." His English teacher flipped past. Scott. Ethan and Aiden. And then she stopped on a grotesque portrait of a scarred face snarling. "That's the monster," she said. "That's what I saw attacking your mom."

Percy took the sketchbook from her and studied the beast's torn face. "I've got to find my mom," he said, looking up. "Nico, stay with Rachel."

Nico glanced at him, a hurt look spreading on his face. "I can help," he insisted.

"What if Rachel sees something else?" he demanded. "If that happens, you come find me, right away. For now, make sure she's safe. It's not just the monster we have to worry about. There's this pack of werewolf alphas..."

"Percy, what?" Nico said. "You have to keep me in the loop a little better about this stuff." He rubbed his forehead. "Okay," he agreed. "But I still don't like the idea of you going alone. It's a bad number for a quest. The three of us would be better..."

Percy deliberated. Then his eyes lit up in realization. "Nico... can I ask a favor of you?"

Isaac hadn't expected to spot Nico and Percy's bizarro friend Rachel at the memorial concert, but when he did he waved them over and drew Rachel aside. "I'm sorry I freaked out at you back at the house," he said. "But I have some questions I need answered."

To his surprise, Rachel shook her head. "I'm sorry, too," she said. "Whatever I told you... the prophecies I give, I don't really remember." She slid a look over at Nico, whose eyes looked sunken into his head more than ever. He was gnawing on his thumbnail. "And apparently, they just stress everyone out." She sighed and peered over at Chris and Allison Argent, who were both trying very hard not to openly stare. "And who are you?"

"Oh, sorry," Isaac said, putting a hand on Allison's arm. "This is my friend, Allison Argent, and her father. Allison is friends with Percy, too."

Rachel smiled pleasantly at them and shook Mr. Argent's hand. "Very talented hunters, I see," she said, as if she were remarking on Allison's shoes. "It's a pleasure."

The two bristled, and Isaac didn't miss how Chris's hand drifted toward his jacket like he was getting ready to draw a gun. Neither did Nico, who took a threatening step forward.

Rachel blushed and tossed back her bright red curls. "Oops. I normally just think those things. Well, since you overheard the rest, I'll just fill you in—slightly psychic here."

Beside her, Nico groaned. "Do you tell people this easily everywhere? In ten years, you're going to be locked up in either a government facility or a mental hospital." He rubbed his forehead and shoved his hands into his elbows, giving the room a suspicious once over.

"Don't be so gloom and doom," Rachel admonished. "Besides, it's not like they're normal people, either." She leaned in and stage whispered, "He's grumpy about Percy leaving him behind to babysit the frail Seer."

"So are you Annabeth?" Allison asked, a note of suspicion in her voice that Isaac didn't quite understand. When he glanced over, he wasn't quite sure what he was reading on her face. Jealousy? Irritation? Both?

Rachel laughed. "Percy's girlfriend? No way. We dated briefly, but he's always been much more serious about Annabeth. I'm Rachel Dare."

The band began to file on stage and Mr. Argent cleared his throat. "I hate to break up the party, kids," he said, "but you two better stick with us. We're fairly confident the darach is going to make a move here, tonight. So keep close."

Nico and Rachel exchanged an unreadable look. "Is that so?" Rachel asked, smirking. "Well, well, looks like things aren't going to be totally boring after all."

With a nod, Nico said, "Looks like Percy should have stayed with us instead of running off alone, scent or no scent."

They didn't make it ten minutes into the concert when all hell broke loose.

The scream shook him to the very roots of his being out of stillness. Isaac was trying to block out the ungodly howl echoing in his ears when Rachel's eyes began to glow green again. As he stumbled to his knees, he somehow heard her intone, "She is wailing. The dark druid will have her blood." She turned on her heel and walked toward the door as another cry went up from the front of the auditorium and people began to stampede in panic. There was blood in the air, Isaac could smell it, and somehow he knew. Lydia. Behind her stumbled Nico with a sword in his hand and Chris and Allison. She led them outside into the warm night like she was walking in a dream. Isaac pushed himself up to his feet and followed.

"Maybe I should have started with philosophers, with knowledge and strategy," Ms. Blake said. Stiles pounded on the door, unable to tear away his eyes from his dad. Please be okay, he prayed. Scott would get up, Scott would stop her. His dad fired a shot into her leg and for a brief minute, Stiles allowed himself to think everything was going to be okay.

Then Ms. Blake kept advancing. "Healers..." she said, and tore the gun out of his dad's hand. Suddenly, he flew across the room and smashed against a wall of desks, groaning in pain. "Warriors..."

A hand grabbed his shoulder and Stiles jerked up in surprise. "Percy?" he gasped in surprise, but Percy pushed him aside and stared in the window. Where had Percy been since he took off at the hospital? He had gone without word, and now he was turning up in the school in the middle of the night, clutching a baseball bat? And what was the big idea, anyway? Stiles was baseball bat guy.

But never mind that, he thought. Never mind that four hours ago, Stiles would have put Percy on the top of his 'do not trust' list. Right now, Percy and his weird freaky powers might be the only thing to stop Ms. Blake. "You have to stop her," he begged. Whether or not they could trust him, Percy Jackson just might be Stiles' last hope to save his dad. "Please," he added desperately.

Percy seemed to size up the situation immediately. "It's her," he growled furiously. "Step back," he ordered, and then whistled.
Inside, Ms. Blake continued approaching his dad. "Guardians..." she listed off, and Percy had to jerk Stiles out of the way to stop him from watching in frozen horror. When he finally broke his gaze away from the door, he realized Percy had brought a giant black dog with him, about the size of a van. It had ropes of slobber hanging down from its massive maw, which was decorated with razor sharp fangs. Stiles gulped. Was that going to save his dad, or make him a chew toy?

"Get the Greek, Mrs. O'Leary," Percy said, and mimed throwing a ball at the door. The dog barked loudly and charged the classroom door. The desk she'd pushed in front of it slammed out of the way and the dog slid across the floor, howling furiously. Percy and Stiles rushed through the door behind the dog, but while they'd been in the hallway, it seemed as though Ms. Blake had vanished. And, Stiles realized, his heart jumping, she had taken his dad with her. The far window had been shattered, but this was the second floor. He couldn't chase after her there. Stiles froze in terror. How long did his dad have to live before she sacrificed him? How long until Stiles was alone? He had to save him. Now.

Scott was pulling himself off the floor. "Percy?" he wheezed, supporting himself on a desk shakily. "What are you doing here?"

But Percy had other plans in mind. "I'm going after her," he decided. Percy was like a force of nature, unyielding and unbroken. It was reassuring to know that he, at least, was still confident. That someone knew what they were going to do. Stiles certainly didn't. "I'll track her the best I can. Mrs. O'Leary's got her scent now."

"You can't fight her alone," Scott said, moving to stop him as he pushed up off of the floor. "And what the hell are you doing here, anyway? And what is that... thing?" Stiles stared at the monster truck dog, which panted eagerly in a pantomime of the demon wolf that had been Peter.

"Call it prophecy," Percy said, and shook his head. "I'll fill you in another time." He climbed onto the back of his giant dog and whistled. Already, his dog was sniffing around the ground for a scent. "Where is my mom?"

Neither of them knew.

"She's in danger, too," Percy said ominously. "If you find her, keep her safe. I don't care what Rachel said. Stiles, I'll get your dad back. That's a promise."

"Who?" Stiles asked, just before Percy bashed through the window on the back of his giant dog and then vanished into the night.

A/N: There it is, the next chapter. I guess I had less good material than I thought, so chapter three is going to need more than a little work. Could be a few days before the next update, but I'd rather do a 5K good update than a 3K crappy update. Obviously, we're approaching endgame in 3A, and I am very excited for what's in store in 3B. Thank you to all the reviewers, subscribers, and favoriters, you all mean a lot to me. And, more than that... Thank you for taking the time to read this.