To he honest, the back of a closed veterinary clinic wasn't even on Alec's Top 10 List of Weird Places to Run A Con From. They didn't even have to break in (which disappointed Parker) and he could admit his heart lurched when the back door was opened by a somber faced man in a tan sheriff's uniform.

Nate of course didn't miss a beat, pulling an obnoxious persona out of thin air. "You're not Clancy!" He barked, wagging a finger at the sheriff. "Where is that no good son of a pickle? I swear, if he gave me drunk directions again...Cookie! Cookie, didn't I say he sounded drunk?"

"Oh yeah!" Sophie continued, soft voice gone nasal and sharp. "Lemme call him, maybe he's sobered up by now…."

The sheriff held up a hand to cut her off. "Very believable, but I know who you are, Mr. Ford. Come in."

Huh.

That was not at all expected, but the man wasn't giving off any of the classic 'Gonna do some arresting tonight' vibes. His hand wasn't on his gun and though he had clearly pegged Eliot as the most physically threatening he wasn't posturing.

The next surprise came when they actually entered the animal clinic and found it packed with teenagers - exhausted looking teenagers - and a handful of adults. Around the room, Alec could see soda cans, pizza boxes and sleeping bags, clear signs that this was being used as a makeshift shelter.

What the hell was happening here?

"Peter," Nate said, addressing a man of about Eliot's age with a goatee and lean, handsome features. "You mentioned something about a self styled fascist flooding your town with guns and trying to murder children."

"Nate," the man, Peter, replied. "I did and there is indeed a genocidal geriatric running around. Rumors put you running a team of Robin Hoods...I thought there's be more of you after hearing about San Lorenzo."

"We're more than capable as is," Sophie said with one of her charming, reassuring smiles.

"Spencer."

The name was spoken by a slim, bearded man in a leather jacket and Alce was shocked to see that Eliot didn't look annoyed.

"Argent," Eliot replied, taking a few steps forward and exchanging one of those forearm gripping warrior handshakes with the other man. "What's happening that you can't handle?"

Okay, so Eliot respected this guy. Which meant the situation was probably even more dire than anticipated.

Argent sighed. "My father is organizing Hunters who don't follow the code in an attempt to wipe out every supernatural being in Beacon Hills. He's arming civilians, feeding their fear and innocents have already died."

"Also there's an ancient shapeshifter called and Anuk-Ite running around that enhances fear and hate and breeds violence because that's its idea of a Country Kitchen Buffet," a pale, dark haired young man added, making Argent grimace and incline his head in agreement.

Before they could continue, Alec held up a finger. "I'm sorry, Supernatural beings? Hunters? Shape shifters? Are Sam and Dean gonna pop out of the closet next...and that wasn't a double entendre though Dean and Castile do give me reason to think maybe...Nevermind."

"That show has a lot of inaccuracies," a grumpy looking man who could play Superman on a CW show (if he ever was introduced to a razor) muttered.

"Really? That's the problem you have with...What the hell?!"

Around the room, eyes began to glow, golds, blue and crimson.

"Look, we don't really have time to ease you into the whole Werewolves exist thing ns for that I'm sorry," a young Latino with a kind face and those red eyes said. His eyes returned to a warm brown as he continued, "We're real, we're in danger and we could use your help."

Parker jabbed a ginger into Eliot's ribs. "You knew!" She accused, not sounding nearly freaked out enough.

Actually, Nate and Sophie were taking things in stride too and Eliot merely nodded. "I knew."

"Right!" Nate said, calling everyone's attention. "I'm going to need a full briefing on the situation, also names and abilities as I assume most of you won't sit on the sidelines while we're working."

"Scott McCall, I'm an Alpha," said the handsome Latino kid.

The pretty redhead spoke next. "Lydia Martin, Banshee."

"Stiles Stilinski, human," said the fast talker and Hardison glanced at the name badge the Sheriff wore. His kid clearly.

"I'm a werecoyote. Name's Malia," a leggy brunette said from where she was glaring at a burly boy.

"Kira Yukimura. Kitsune," the beautiful Japanese girl in Marvel leggings told them.

The rest of the introductions were just as fast.

"Isaac, werewolf." The tall blond guy beside "Danny Mahealani, human."

"Liam Dunbar, werewolf." Small, younger guy in need of s haircut. Burly was standing near him. "Theo, chimera."

"I'm Mason, human, and he's Corey, a chameleon chimera." A young brother holding a book and the nervous looking kid huddled close to him.

Look up rich douchebag in the dictionary and you'd find, "Jackson, werewolf kanima."

"Ethan, werewolf." Another Abercrombie looking guy.

Furry Superman was, "Derek, werewolf."

"Peter Hale,werewolf." Nate's acquaintance.

Eliot's buddy was, "Chris Argent."

"Melissa McCall." Clearly Scott's mom...and also very hot.

"Sheriff Noah Stilinski." The sheriff.

"Deputy Jordan Parrish, hellhound." Yet another model looking guy.

What was in the water?

"Okay, I'm Nate, this is Sophie, Eliot, Hardison and Parker. Let's go steal us a town's sanity."

TBC...