Lex had developed a begrudging respect for Dean the summer before, but right now he just wanted to pound some sense into him. No one talked to his little brother like that, even if Clark was lying through his teeth.

Which, admittedly, he clearly was, but who could blame him, with the way Dean was accusing him? Lex had wanted nothing more than to run after Clark and comfort him, but Sam had insisted that he be the first one to talk to him. Lex and Sam had gone back and forth a few times and finally compromised: if Clark was hiding out in his room, Lex would talk to him. If he was in the loft, Sam would.

Lex almost went back on his word when he was greeted by an empty bedroom, but he made himself let it go. It was probably for the best—Lex needed some time to cool off, and it was better if Clark wasn't overwhelmed by two people. He finished unpacking his suitcases, then he settled down on the bed, reading a book.

He'd read the same sentence about fifty times when a soft knock came at his door. He raced over to find Sam and Clark standing in the hallway.

"Meeting in our room," Sam said, and Lex followed them over to meet Dean, who was sitting up on his bed. Lex pulled up a chair to sit beside him. Clark and Sam remained standing.

Sam cleared his throat. "So . . . Clark gave me permission to tell you what he really saw out there."

Lex sat up a little straighter. Part of him couldn't help but feel a bit hurt that Clark had opened up to Sam rather than to him, but he couldn't really blame Clark. Lex had probably scared him by trying to fight with Dean.

"He knows what made the trail?" Dean asked.

"Yes," Sam said.

"Great," Dean said. "How do we kill it?"

Clark flinched. Lex made a mental note to talk to Dean about casually talking about killing in front of a ten-year-old.

"Well, I'm not sure about this one. Based on what Clark described, it sounds like a werewolf."

Lex blinked a couple of times. "A werewolf."

"No." Dean shook his head. "Can't be. It's not full moon. And it's daytime."

"Werewolves exist?" Lex had told himself that he wouldn't be surprised, no matter what they said, but it was hard to hold back his natural reactions. Werewolves!

"Everything exists," Dean said. "But werewolves don't turn this time of month, and definitely not during the day."

"It's been infected by meteor rocks," Sam said. "Who knows when it can transform? But Clark described what he saw to me. It's definitely a werewolf of some kind."

Lex's heart thudded hard against his chest. His last experience with a mutated monster had been terrifying—he had almost been killed. Sam had ended up killing it with a knife soaked in Lex's blood. Worse, that whole encounter had only proved that Lex himself was infected by the meteor rocks, and he kept thinking that must make him some kind of monster. But he employed years of training as a Luthor and kept a straight face. It wasn't the time for panicking over that.

"Okay." Dean gave Clark a pointed look. "So it's a werewolf. Doesn't explain how the three of us got knocked out without a scratch on us, and Clark wasn't touched at all."

"Would you lay off?" Lex snapped at him.

"Or why his clothes and shoelace were in the fence," Dean said.

Sam nodded. "He's been out to the site of the trail a few times, and his clothes caught in the broken pieces of fence. And then today, the werewolf was going to knock out all four of us to make it easier to kill us, but it got called away before it could get to Clark. Maybe a female?"

Dean swore under his breath. "So there's a whole pack of these things."

"It sounds like it," Sam said.

Aunt Martha's voice came from downstairs: "Clark, time to set the table!"

"Um . . . we can talk more about this later, but I have to go." Clark looked up at Sam

"I'll help you," Sam said, and he and Clark both left the room.

Lex took a deep breath. "So what do we do?"

Dean turned to Lex. "Under no circumstances are they to be allowed to come with us."

"We're going to kill the pack?" Lex asked.

"Once a werewolf catches your scent, it'll be back."

Warm chills ran down Lex's spine. "You think it'll come back for us?"

"Only way to keep ourselves safe is to take out the pack. You ready for a hunt, Luthor?"

"That's why I'm here. So how do you kill a werewolf?"

"Usually, with a silver bullet to the heart. But werewolves infected with meteor rock?" Dean sighed. "I dunno."

Lex thought back to the mutant Djinn. A normal Djinn could be killed by a silver knife dipped in lamb's blood; a meteor-infected Djinn had needed to be stabbed with a knife dipped in the blood of a meteor-infected lamb. For a meteor-infected werewolf, then . . . "Maybe silver and meteor rock?"

"Could be."

"You got silver bullets?" Lex asked.

Dean nodded. "Yeah."

"Think we can find some meteor rock?"

"Sure, it's all over this town," Dean said. "But we don't have any way to melt down silver and meteor rock and make bullets out of both."

"Got silver shotgun shells?"

"No, but I've got regular shells. Thinking two bullets for each of the werewolves, one silver and one meteor rock?"

Aunt Martha's voice again: "Dean, Lex! Dinner!"

"We'll make plans later," Dean told Lex, and they both headed down the stairs.

As they walked, a cold sense of dread overtook Lex. He wasn't ready for a fight like this. He could shoot a gun, his aim was good, and his reflexes were fast, but Dean was a real hunter. Lex felt like he was more likely to get in the way. And regardless of his father's training, it was hard not to be afraid. Despite believing he had deserved death ever since he killed Julian, he didn't really want to die. Not like this.

Down at the dining room table, Lex sat beside Clark, across from Sam and Dean. Clark still looked miserable, staring down at his plate. Lex swallowed, his chest feeling tight. He reached over and put a hand on Clark's shoulder, gently stroking with his thumb. Clark looked up at him and smiled.

Lex felt like his heart was rising into his throat. He would protect his little brother. Whatever it took.