For Carson Bradley, Stiles Stilinski, and Scott McCall, they were used to having a Plan B. This time, however, they were merely pawns in a far more deadly game.
(season 3, book 3)
(no longer updating)
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FIFTEEN DEAFENING HEARTBEAT
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The three teens were still seated in the back of the bus, a good five minutes after Carson's last words.
It was almost impossible for the bus to drive at a normal rate, what with the storm brewing outside and Coach Finstock's incessant whistle blowing. He'd yelled at least four times in the span of thirty seconds, each sentence followed by a punctual whistle. The sound made Carson's skin crawl, her heightened hearing not up for the task. Behind her, it seemed like it was bothering Scott even more, because every time the whistle blew, he went to cover his ears; but the movements only seemed to aggravate his injury.
Stiles, human as ever, only seemed mildly annoyed by the sound. What bothered him more was the silence that he and his two companions had seemed to fall into, knowing they had far more important things at hand to discuss than to be quiet for this entire bus ride.
Suddenly the bus jolted to a stop, causing practically everyone to go shooting forward in their seats. Carson's body slipped off the seat, causing her to land on the bus floor. She groaned slightly, picking herself up as the horn on the bus blared twice. The brunette boosted herself back up onto the seat, prepared to see Stiles, or perhaps even Scott, smirking at what had become of her in the past few seconds. But the two boy's attention was staring ahead, causing Carson to turn to see what they were so engrossed in.
The bus was at a standstill, the whole highway not moving and a string of vehicles went on forever until disappearing over a hill.
"You have got to be kidding me right now," Carson moaned. "This is just freaking beautiful. Scott's back her bleeding out on the damn seat and we're in a fucking traffic jam."
Stiles started forming a reply, but almost instantly his words were almost background noise to what was catching Carson's attention. She had been staring forward at the car jam, when something a few seats ahead had caught her attention.
Boyd's hand was gripping the seat, fingernails now in the shape of claws. As her hearing faded out Stiles's words and in on what Boyd was doing, she could hear shallow breathing. His own attention was directed at Ethan, eyes narrowed at the sight of the alpha. It was obvious what Boyd wanted to do in that moment; the same thing he had been wanting since the teens boarded the bus.
He wanted revenge.
"We have a problem," Carson said, tone rising in panic. She whipped around to face Scott and Stiles, the former attempting to stand. He had noticed exactly what Carson had, and he planned to stop it.
