Sam took deep breaths as the three of them approached the cabin to which Clark had given them directions. Dean and Lex showed almost no signs of fear at all, though Sam knew from experience that the tightening in his jaw meant Dean was terrified. Sam didn't know how to sense fear from Lex, but he guessed Lex felt about the same way.

Sam wished he hadn't been caught—his arm was still sore from the punch, and he was definitely going to be hearing it when they got back to the house—but it was a good thing that he was going to be able to fight without worrying about being seen, unlike Clark. Aside from that, it felt good better to know that they would have more people on their side. Three guns firing at once meant fewer injuries to the hunters, and three pairs of eyes meant fewer blind spots.

"How close are we?" Sam asked.

"I dunno," Dean snapped. "I'm just following the directions you gave me from Clark."

Sam rolled his eyes and looked over at Lex, who shrugged. "Should be getting close," he said.

The cabin wasn't quite in sight yet when three figures came charging toward them, snarling. Sam caught his breath and fumbled with his gun—Lex and Dean had already raised theirs. His heart hammering, Sam didn't get a good look at the monsters, other than their teeth and their glowing green eyes, before trees rustled behind him and four more werewolves stepped out.

All around them, more of them were stepping out from behind thick bushes and trees, completely surrounding them. Sam couldn't count the monsters—definitely more than a dozen, though. Sam had to wonder if Clark had managed to take out any of them at all. If he had, Sam was thankful. A dozen was already going to be more than enough for three guys.

Sam said a silent prayer that Clark was okay, and he cocked his gun.

-------

Lex was the first to fire off a shot. It hit one of the werewolves square in the chest, and the creature stumbled back, whimpering, clutching its chest and shrinking back into the foliage.

"Stay back!" Dean growled, and most of the creatures took a step back, but they didn't run. It was probably a good thing that they stayed close; it meant Lex and Dean and Sam wouldn't have to chase them down. The three of them could shoot the creatures all where they stood—or at least, they could try. Apparently, the werewolves weren't particularly afraid of the guns. They knew they had the advantage of numbers—Lex counted at least ten werewolves, probably more.

Ten werewolves. Probably more. Many more, if there were more hiding in wait. There could have been twenty or more of them in the pack.

. . . Twenty or more werewolves.

This made no sense.

Lex lowered his rifle a little and looked around at all of them. "What are you all doing here?"

"Luthor, shut up," Dean hissed.

Lex stepped forward. It didn't make sense. According to the news reports Dean had read him, three bodies had been found in the woods; only three. Sure, there might have been others that hadn't been found yet, but there weren't dozens of missing persons reports. Shouldn't each werewolf have been eating more human hearts? A whole pack should have been noticed, far more dramatically. Either all of these werewolves had only just been turned—if that was even how it worked—or they'd only just arrived.

"I'm talking to you." Lex pointed to the largest of the pack—he wasn't sure if werewolves could talk while in wolf form, but maybe these ones could. Most also couldn't transform during the day, or when there wasn't a full moon. And most didn't have the green eyes. Lex forced his voice to stop shaking, and shouted, again, "What are you doing here?"

The largest one—probably the Alpha—sneered and said, in a gravelly, growling voice, "You should know."

"How would I know?"

"We were sent by your kind."

"By humans?"

"By hunters."

Lex's mind raced. Dean hadn't mentioned any other hunters in this area, and even if any of the hunters he knew had any control over monsters, he certainly didn't think anyone would purposely send creatures to Smallville, of all places. The meteor rock mutations only made them stronger. "Why would they send you here?"

Dean growled, "What are you doing, Luthor?"

"Trying to figure out . . ." Lex's voice trailed off as his eyes met Dean's. Dean showed no signs of understanding, no sign of surprise or curiosity at anything the creature had said. "Do you know who sent them?" he asked Dean.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

No—that lack of recognition meant something different. Dean couldn't understand the werewolf. "Sam, can you hear it?"

"I-I can hear it growling," Sam stammered.

Lex was the only one. His grip on his gun loosened just a bit.

The Alpha must have seen his chance. He lunged toward Lex.

A gunshot rang out, and the monster fell just before reaching him, and out of the corner of his eye, Lex watched Dean cock his gun again. "Shoot first, Luthor. Questions later."

That's when they all closed in at once.