"You're kidding me, right, Grace?" asks Stiles. He lifts up a pile of mail and yesterday's newspaper from the kitchen table and unearths the keys to his Jeep.

"Her Dad is a werewolf hunter."

Did he fail to mention that before? Oops.

"He shot Scott in the arm. With an arrow."

What is this, like, medieval times?

"Also, no. Absolutely not."

He can see that gleam in her eyes. He knows it. He does the same thing. It's not to be trusted.