Bad idea. That was the only way to describe this situation- A horrible, terrible, Christ forsaken idea.
Scott had Liam chained and Kira and Stiles were with Malia, but she was stuck hosting a party. And Alison was at home. And her Banshee shit was going completely nuts. But she was still Lydia fucking Martin, and she still had the best parties in Beacon Hills.
She kinda didn't have to do anything but let them in. They brought their own music and booze. She just had to micromanage and make sure they didn't break anything or spill anything or do anything stupid.
Then there was the keg guy, who she found creepy and didn't really have time for because someone was going upstairs.
"I'll go get some cash," she muttered at the keg guy before dashing upstairs.
"What are you doing?" She demanded, walking into the room the kid had entered. He whipped around.
"I was just looking," he promised.
"Well go 'look' downstairs,"
He nodded quickly and went to walk past her- and then spilled their drinks.
Lydia immediately went to her knees and began trying to scrub the floor with her sweater. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck.
"Hey. Are you-"
"We need every penny we can get out of this house," she muttered. Her face had gone blank.
"I'll go get some paper towels,"
"Dad left us with nothing,"
"Paper towels. We'll clean it up,"
She looked over at him like she suddenly noticed he was there.
"Okay,"
He left hastily and shut the door.
It was completely silent.
Why was the room sound proof?
She glanced over at the record player. Something told her she should play it, so she did.
Noises. Skipping record and screams and white noise. Static. She turned to the wall.
Faces. Lots of faces, coming out of the wall.
Someone entered the room and she barely noticed.
"Lydia?" Kira asked. It sounded distant.
A while later- a minute, an hour, who cares- Lydia blinked a few times and stopped seeing the faces. But she knew the answer to her code.
"Lydia?" Kira asked again as she reached for her laptop. "What is it?"
"Alison,"
"Alison's fine, i'm sure Peter-"
"No, the code,"
She tapped it in and sure enough, everything made sense.
"It's a dead pool,"
"A what?"
"Not the super hero. It's a- A hit list. And we're on it,"
"Well, can we deal with that in a second?"
"Why?"
"Cos Liam's gone jack shit and Scott's probably gonna die,"
Lydia exhaled and stood up straight.
"'Course. Mama'll fix it,"