RUNAWAY
[ BOOK THREE ] ✧
Evil never seemed to rest in Beacon Hills, so as soon as the Nogitsune issue had been dealt with, it was onto the next one; perhaps a deadlier one. Harper Verum and her supernatural friends find themselves on a hit list, lea...
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"YOU'RE LYDIA'S FRIENDS, RIGHT?"
Harper glanced up from where she had been pouring herself and Stiles a drink, finding Liam's friend from before staring at them expectantly. Out of habit, Stiles folded his arms across his chest and nodded.
"What's it to you?" He questioned almost defensively.
The dark-skinned boy looked at him strangely, "well, she's split some wine on one of her carpets and she seems pretty upset about it. I don't know where the stain remover is, but–"
Harper cut him off, "don't worry about it, we'll go help."
Stiles nodded as the brunette grabbed his hand, leading him up the staircase, completely ditching their drinks. They ignored the bodies pushing them left and right, finally making it up the stairs.
"Lydia?" Stiles called.
Harper tried the handle to one of the doors. It swung open, revealing a couple of fifteen-year-olds getting it on. Stiles and Harper both cringed immediately, slamming the door shut again to prevent seeing anything they didn't want to.
The Empath banged her fist on the door, "downstairs!"
"Cockblock," Stiles teased as they walked further down the hallway, opening every door on the way.
"That's Scott's brand," Harper joked, pushing the last door open.
The room inside was nothing like the rest of the house. It was taking minimalism to another level. With pure white walls and matching carpets, the room sported only a record player set up with speakers either side. That, and a bright, red wine stain next to a knocked-over bottle.
"Lydia? Are you okay?"
The strawberry blonde in question was stood in front of the record player, looking extremely distraught. In fact, she looked as though the vintage object had just told her it had murdered her entire family. She ignored Harper's questions.
"What do you hear?" Stiles gestured to the vinyl spinning.
"The key," Lydia croaked, her eyes not adjusting from their positions, "they key to break the code."
A few moments later, Lydia sat at a desk with her MacBook sat out in front of her, hundreds of codes popping up on her screen. Harper realised this was the same coding Lydia had given Malia as maths notes without even realising it a few days ago.
Lydia began to type something before a box popped up at the bottom, telling her to insert the keyword.
