Treachery || Stilinski

Twenty-one: three werewolves and Motel California

Stiles' P.O.V:

"How did you even do that?" Emma's voice goes three tones higher than usual.

"It wasn't me!" I say, taking her arm to drag her away from the stupid machine. "It was Boyd, okay? The machine didn't drop his food and he went completely psycho about it."

She looks back at the machine. "Do you think he's still mad about the whole Derek thing?"

I shrug.

"I don't know. Leave it alone, I'm sure he's okay," I lie, giving her some of the snacks I managed to get from the machine for free. "Let's just get back to Scott."

We find Scott talking on the phone by the window. He's frozen in place, as if he's just seen a ghost.

"Hey, Scott," I call him. "Are you okay?"

He turns around, almost dropping the phone. I don't think I had ever seen Scott so scared. He looks back at the window, back at his phone and then the window one more time, as if he's expecting someone.

I want to ask what's going on again, because I'm having terrible flashbacks about the first full moons with Scott, but Emma takes my hand and pulls me towards the door.

"It's Lydia," she says, not letting go of me. "I knew staying here was a bad idea."

She doesn't stop nor gives me any explanation until we reach her room.

"Hey, roomies," I awkwardly greet the girls.

I find myself standing next to Emma as Allison tells us the weirdest story about Scott trying to see her naked in the shower.

"Last time I saw Scott acting like that was during the full moon," she says.

"Yeah, he was a little off with us too," I agree.

"And let's not even mention Boyd," Emma contributes. "Stiles saw him put his fist through the vending machine."

"See? It is the motel!" Lydia exclaims. "Either we need to get out of here right now or somebody needs to learn exorcism A.S.A.P. before the werewolves go crazy and kill us!"

Emma and I share a look full of concern. I follow Lydia's movements as she gets an old book from one of the drawers and lift it so we can see it: The Bible, how convenient.

"Just hold on, all right?" I tell her, motioning for her to put the book down. It doesn't work. "What if it's not just the motel? The number in the office went up by three, right?"

According to Lydia, the owners of the motel keep record of the number of suicides that had occurred in this place for at least forty years. When Lydia went to change the towels, it read 198. Minutes later she went back with Allison only to see the number had change to 201.

It so just happens that lately, number three has been a common denominator in our lives. You know, like Scott, Emma and I; the golden trio. Or Alpha, Beta and Omega; the big tattoo Derek had in his back. And let's not forget about...

"Three sacrifices," Emma and Allison say at the same time.

I take a deep breath before deciding whether to share what I'm thinking.

"What if this time it's three werewolves?" I ask. By their reactions I can tell they had been thinking the same.

"Isaac, Boyd and Scott," Allison counts them.

"Maybe we were meant to come here," Emma says, putting the pieces together. "What if the whole conference thing was just the bait and..."

"And we need to get the hell out of here now! Please?" she turns to me, still with the Bible in hand.