Eye of the Hurricane ▸ Scott McCall (2)

xiv. BOILING POINT

        "All of you?" Melissa demanded, a look of confusion washing across her face. Then quick to question, "Why does Stiles have my bat?"

        "Mom, just trust me on this, you need to get out of here," Scott warned, all of them knowing full well that in this situation, Jennifer's the most dangerous wild card out there. "Right now."

        She lets out a soft sigh, explaining, "The building's to be clear in thirty minutes, we've got two ambulances coming back. One's ten minutes out, the other's twenty. Cora needs to be on one of those. They'll be picking up in the basement garage."

        Scott nodded, assuring, "Got it."

        He soon backed away, making his way toward the elevator while Foster grabbed onto Melissa's wrist, breathing out nervously, "Where's my mom?"

        Melissa's expression softened when she noticed the pain and fear written across the young girl's face, Foster in a state of panic seeing as though her mom is either out in the dangerous storm or stuck in the hospital where things were bound to get ugly real quick.

        Scott's mom wrapped her hands around a single one of Foster's, assuring, "She's okay. She's already at the other hospital, I made sure to have them let me know when she got there."

        Foster bit down on her lip, nodding her head as spoke, "Thank you."

        "Of course," Melissa promised. "Now go."

        Foster nodded, jogging toward the elevator and slipping inside. She stood in the front corner, by the buttons while Derek and Jennifer were placed in the middle, Scott and Stiles in the back corner. Foster's jaw was slack, a murderous look in her eyes as her gaze fell upon Jennifer. Stiles looked as though he was about to bash Jennifer's head in any second with his bat, and Scott appeared as though he wanted to use her as a chew toy because why the hell not? That was the hatred they all held toward Jennifer, each one of them wanting to take her down once and for all. She took Stiles' dad, Deaton, and now she was trying to take Cora out of the playing field. This was personal now.

        And Jennifer. Well, she looked less than pleased to be near three homicidal teenagers as of right now. In fact, she found it quite dull.

        "You don't have keep me on a leash, Derek." Jennifer sighed. "I'm going to help."

        She received no response, unless you count three even darker stares one. Which is most definitely what she received from Stiles, Foster, and Scott.

        The elevator chimed and the doors opened, revealing a hallway with flickering lights. Derek lead her outside, Scott and Stiles walking on either side of Foster as they made their way down the hallway. They were set on a mission, and there was absolutely nothing that could stop them from getting to Cora.

        Making his way up to a hospital room, Derek froze, a look of confusion on his face. Foster assumed it was Cora's room, but when she peered inside, there was no one. No one at all.

        On the floor was a pile of black blood, mistletoe mixed inside of it. The alarming part, though, was that droplets of it were leading outside of the room and down the hallway. They lead all the way to a set of double doors, and behind them Foster could hear the sounds of a struggle.

        "Derek," Foster spoke, gaining the alphas attention. It was then when everyone's gaze fell to the ground, all of them staring at the doors in front of them.

        Soon enough, they went flying open, Peter's body sliding along the tile floor and halting as he reached the tips of their toes. Foster looked down, an alarmed expression on her face as Peter let out a pained groan.