Neriah Hale lost her family at the age of ten, leaving her in the town of Beacon Hills with no one but two boys and a secret that she'd spent her whole life hiding. But when one of the two boys gets bitten, she has to reveal her true self to help sa...
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"I can't believe you two dragged me out of my car for this," I muttered, walking down the hospital hallway with Stiles and Scott, trying to go unnoticed. "I'm still healing, for god's sake."
"How long does it take for you to heal?" Stiles questioned, looking over his shoulder at me.
I shrugged my shoulders. "A few days, give or take," I answered, actually knowing very little.
"Look, we just gotta find out if she's turning or dying," Scott reminded us, stopping at the end of the hallway to look left and right.
A few hours ago, I was peacefully sleeping in my car, which I moved back into hours after my father died, because I hated crying in front of people.
It was a flaw, I knew that.
But then my peaceful sleep was disturbed when these two idiots showed up, woke me up, told me what we had to do, and then they made me drive us to the hospital.
So yes, I was annoyed.
Lydia was still in some type of coma, but at least she had been moved into a room that was easier for us to access without being questioned. The poor girl was still hooked up to machines and fighting an infection...Well, bite.
"You wanna get in unnoticed?" I asked, and they both nodded. "Then the trick is to make it look like you belong there," I explained, and then walked straight past them, toward Lydia's room.
"Riah!" Stiles whisper-shouted, but he was too late.
Pushing open the door to Lydia's room once the coast was clear, I looked back over at Scott and Stiles, who were still hiding behind a wall. I nodded my head, and they scrambled over, dropping to their hands and knees in the room.
"Seriously? This isn't a James Bond movie," I stated, and Stiles grabbed my arm, yanking me down beside him. "My ribs," I groaned, pressing a hand to my side as Stiles sent me an apologetic look.
He started to close the door, but it started creaking, and we all cringed, and he stopped, sending us a worried look.
This was why our plans mostly failed.
"Just push it faster," I whispered.
Stiles listened, but it only creaked louder, and I slapped my hand to my forehead, praying this would hurry up.
Scott shook his head, shooting a look at Stiles, who was still cringing.
The door finally closed, and Stiles looked like he was having a seizure to lock it, but he did and then fell back against the door.
"Remind us to never let you close a door again," I murmured, shooting him a glare with Scott.
"What?" he asked us, like he had no idea of how much louder he made that whole process.
"Let's just get this over with," Scott grumbled, getting to his feet.
Using the end of Lydia's bed, I pulled myself up and then grabbed the front of Stiles's shirt, yanking him onto his feet before the three of us slowly walked around to Lydia's side, often glancing out the window to the hallway.
"Riah, you're up," Scott ordered, and I raised a brow. "I'm not looking under her hospital gown."
"Why me?" I asked, looking between the two of them.
"You're a girl, right?" Stiles sarcastically asked.
I slapped him on the back of the head with a glare. "Yes, Stiles, I am a girl." Scott shook his head at us, and I carefully started to lift up Lydia's gown to reveal the bloodied bandage on the bite. Slowly and carefully, I peeled off the bandage. "Scott," I whispered in quiet warning.
"Is it completely healed?" Stiles asked, looking away.
Scott shook his head beside me. "No, not at all."
Stiles looked then, at the scabbing bite mark with dried blood around Lydia's ribs.
"I don't get it. The doctor said she will be fine," I mumbled, looking between the two of them with furrowed brows.
"Yeah, but the bite's not healing as it did with mine," Scott pointed out. "Which means, she's not a werewolf."
"But that's not possible," I countered, looking closer at the wound. "The bite either turns you into a werewolf or it kills you. And from here, she doesn't seem to be dying."
"Then what the hell is she?" Stiles asked, looking at Scott and me.
"I don't know," Scott admitted, and then they both looked at me, as if expecting me to know the answer.
"I'm not the werewolf Wikipedia," I scoffed, waving my hands at them. "I'll meet you two at my car."
