Twelve

"AFTER ENTERING THE IP ADDRESS, you will be connected through a dark net portal to an untraceable bank. Once logged in, enter your account number to receive wire transfers. The IP address will deactivate with each transfer. You will be assigned a new IP address if you choose to continue down the list. Remember, visual confirmation is always required for payment."

Stiles hit the pause button on the tape player, not wanting to hear the message again. They listened to it at least twelve times, trying to find anything else. But it only said that paragraph repeatedly.

He remained sitting on Scott's floor, across from him and Sierra while the money remained stacked between them. "You ever made a wire transfer?" he asked the two.

"Never had enough money," Scott replied honestly, Sierra nodding her head in agreement.

"So you didn't understand a word of that earlier?"

"Let's be honest," Sierra spoke up, a small yawn escaping her mouth. "None of us understand any of this. Why would someone use all this money just to kill us?"

"Someone wants us dead, dude," Scott replied, trying to wrap his own head around it. "Badly."

The words hung in the air, the situation bringing the kids to exhaustion. So, Scott started picking up the stacks of bills, placing them back in the lacrosse bag.

"Whoa, whoa," Stiles held out his hand, making Scott freeze. "What're you doing?"

"It's late," Scott reasoned, continuing to put the money away. "Sierra is falling asleep as we speak, and even though it's Friday, tomorrow we have to be at the school early for the PSATs."

"I was talking about the money," Stiles motioned to the bag as Scott shoved it back under his bed. Though, glancing at his girlfriend he noticed she was seconds away from passing out on Scott's floor. "The five hundred thousand dollars? Do you know how much money that is?"

Scott stared at him, thinking he was asking a trick question. "It's five hundred thousand dollars."

"Half a million dollars," Stiles agreed with a nod. "What're you going to do with it? Just slide it under your mattress?"

"We have to talk to Derek," Sierra spoke up, resting her chin in her hand.

"She's right," Scott stated. "It's his."

"No, it's his and Peter's," Stiles corrected.

"What does that mean?"

Stiles pursed his lips, but then spoke his mind. "It means... maybe we should proceed with caution."

Scott raised his eyebrows. "You don't think we should tell Derek?"

"No."

Stiles couldn't think straight. Between going to Eichen earlier that day and finding the last third of the dead pool, he felt burnt out. But the idea of giving all that money away, he couldn't describe it, but it didn't sit right. "No, I'm not saying--" Stiles sighed, standing up to think things through. "Of course we have to tell him. I'm just saying, some of that money is Peter's, right?"

Scott and Sierra looked up at him from the floor, Scott nodding his head. "Yeah?"

"Right," Stiles turned back to face them, trying to get them to understand his mindset. "Peter. Homicidal killer? Remember? You want to give half a million dollars back to the guy that clawed Sierra's throat?"

Sierra's breath hitched at the memory, out of habit touching her neck where her scars used to be. Scott glanced at her in concern, but couldn't help question Stiles further. "So you want us to give Derek's money back, but not Peter's?"

"I didn't say that."

"Stiles, what are you saying?"

Sierra suddenly sat up, her ears perking at the sound of someone running up the stairs. Without informing the boys what she was doing, she sprung forward, leaning over Scott's lap to securely shove the lacrosse bag out of sight. Scott and Stiles realized what she was doing, Scott scrambling to stand just as his bedroom door opened.

Malia stood there, hair clinging to her neck from the rain. "We found Satomi's pack," she bluntly stated. "But they're dead."

All day, after meeting up with Jemma and Derek at school, Malia had been with them to find any clue to where Satomi and her pack were hiding. The couple brought Malia along because Derek couldn't smell as well, and the girl knew the preserve better than anyone. The scent Malia gathered from Brett's jersey led them to the east side clearing. Unfortunately, by the time they arrived the werewolves had been wiped out from some kind of poison.

"All of them?" Scott asked in disbelief.

"All the ones we found," Malia confirmed with a nod.

Sierra stepped forward in concern. "Where's Jemma?"

Malia lowered her eyes, revealing, "At the hospital with Derek."

"Is she alright?"

"She is, but Braeden isn't."

"Braeden?" Sierra furrowed her eyebrows, not understanding. "Why was Braeden with Satomi's pack?"

Malia shook her head, "I don't know. Jemma just told me to tell you to stay with Stiles tonight. They're scheduling Braeden for surgery to get the bullet out of her stomach. We don't know how, but she was shot."

"By who?"

"My guess is whoever wiped out Satomi's pack."

*^*^*^*^*

The next morning, the sun shone brightly over Beacon Hills. The school bustled with students, even though it was a Saturday. They lined up against the lockers, anxiously waiting to be checked in so they could take the PSATs.

The Preliminary Scholastic Assessment Test, given out yearly to sophomores and juniors for qualification of the National Merit Scholarship Program and practice for the SAT, which helped them get into college.

"I shouldn't even be here," Sierra complained into Stiles's shoulder, the boy holding her against him so she could rest her eyes while they waited. "I took it last year with Lydia."

"So why are you taking it again?" Kira asked curiously, standing next to Scott.

Sierra raised her head, adjusting so she was leaning on Stiles's side. "Honestly, I signed up a few months ago because I wanted to beat my score. But if I had known there'd be professional assassins after us, believe me, I would've opted out."

"Beat your score?" Scott echoed, pulling a face. "You got a fourteen thirty, Sierra."

Malia, who had never taken a standardized test, asked, "Is that good?"

"Impeccably," Stiles answered with a smile, rubbing Sierra's back as she blushed. "My girl is a genius."

"Wait, Lydia isn't here," Malia realized the absence of their strawberry blonde friend. "Does that mean I could've taken the test some other time?"

"Malia, you've been studying with Sierra and Stiles for weeks," Scott pointed out, Sierra nodding in agreement.

Malia argued, "That doesn't mean I'm going to do good!"

"Well."

Malia furrowed her eyebrows at Stiles. "Well, what?"

"It's do well, not good," Stiles corrected her, wincing when she threw her hands up in defeat.

"Oh, god!"

"Look, you're doing this," Sierra grabbed Malia's hand and looked at her seriously. "Okay? Because while we're trying not to die, we still need to live. And I don't know about you, but if I live past high school, I'd really like to go to college. A good college."

Scott sighed, "She's right."

"When is she not?"

"It's only three hours," Kira reminded them calmly. "We can survive three hours."

Before they knew it, their thumbprints had been stamped, booklets were handed out and their cellphones were safely secured in individual bags. Sierra noticed Malia's leg start to bounce from beside her, causing her to whisper, "You'll do great, Mal. Okay?"

Malia pursed her lips, but nodded her head and tried to take Sierra's words to heart.

"Do not open your test booklets until you are instructed to do so," the instructor of the test, a man in his mid-thirties with a weird mole on his chin, stated. He stood in front of the room, scanning the students. Lingering his gaze on Scott and Sierra, he continued. "This test is two hours and ten minutes. There will be two, twenty-five minute critical reading sections, two, twenty-five minute math sections and an essay-writing portion that will last thirty minutes."

The instructor's eyes drifted to Mrs. Martin. "There's supposed to be two teachers monitoring this exam."

"I know, it's Coach," Mrs. Martin looked at him apologetically. "He's not exactly...punctual. Let me, um, try him again." When she came back, Coach Finstock wasn't with her. "I, uh, can't find him."

Scott and Sierra exchanged glances, hearing Lydia's mom's heart skip a beat. She was lying.

"We have to start," the instructor decided at the news, choosing to wait to ask Mr. Yukimura for assistance. Looking back over the anxious kids, he declared, "You may now open your test booklets and begin."

And for the next twenty minutes, that's exactly what they did. The only sounds in the room were answers being bubbled in and erasers colliding with the paper. Sierra finished the first section with ease, using the rest of her time to double-check her answers. Stiles thought he had a good chance at first, but seeing a question about pre-calculus made him freeze. Malia, on the other hand, took off her jacket from the stress and just tried to answer the ones she understood, skipping some to be reviewed if she had time.

Before the first timer could go off, everyone turned from hearing a body hit the tile floor. "Sydney!" Mrs. Martin exclaimed, rushing over. "Are you alright?"

Nobody moved as Mrs. Martin helped Sydney, who blushed in embarrassment from her classmate's stares. "I'm fine," she assured her teacher. "I just got kind of dizzy."

"Sydney...how long have you had this?" Mrs. Martin motioned to the girl's wrist, which was covered in lesions.

Not recognizing it, Sydney shook her head, "I, I don't know."

"Mrs. Martin, do I need to stop the test?" the instructor inquired.

"No," the woman decided, her brain thinking back to how she found Coach in his office."No, it's, it's fine." After helping Sydney back into her seat, Mrs. Martin excused herself. "Nobody leaves the room," she told the instructor sternly, leaving the students to wonder what exactly was going on."

Scott, puzzled, looked to Sierra, who nudged her head to Sydney. She had seen the lesions. "Poison?" Sierra mouthed to him, her mind going to the worst case scenario, but all Scott could do was shrug. He didn't have a clue.

Everyone jumped from hearing Mrs. Martin yell in the hallway, quickly moving from their seats to see the commotion. But all they found was her standing in front of the double doors. Stiles held onto Sierra's elbow, glancing at Scott, unsure.

"Get back to your seats," Mrs. Martin demanded. "Now!"

They did as they were told, Scott shutting the door behind them. But that didn't stop him from hearing what Mrs. Martin said into her cellphone.

"I need the number for the CDC. Yes, the Center for Disease Control."

*^*^*^*^*

Quarantine; a state of isolation.

The moment Sierra spotted the yellow hazmat suits, she gained an idea about what was about to go down. The doctors arriving wore oxygen masks, carrying multiple metal cases inside the building before locking it down. Clear tents were set up, as well as IV stations to be placed next to desks pushed together. Students gathered at the windows as they were covered in plastic tarps, blocking their views of outside.

Sierra and Scott could both hear the police sirens as they talked with Mrs. Martin, multiple officers arriving on the scene--along with the sheriff. "We just have to isolate the sick and wait for instructions," Mrs. Martin informed the pair, resting a blanket over Sydney's legs. "If I'm wrong, they'll be out of here pretty quickly, and then I'm the crazy biology teacher who panicked for nothing." She offered Sydney a reassuring smile, and then left her tent.

Scott and Sierra went to follow her out, but the girl felt Sydney's worry and stopped. "Hey," Sierra spoke softly, gaining her attention. "You're gonna be okay."

Sydney appreciated her words, but the lesions on her wrist weren't bugging her. "The PSATs are the qualifying tests for the National Merit Scholarship," Sydney explained, letting out a shaky breath. "My parents can't afford to send me to college without it."

Even though it was a risk, Sierra stepped forward to place a hand on Sydney's shoulder. "I'm sure they'll let you take it again. But right now you should rest; it'll help you feel better."

Sydney nodded, accepting her assistance to lie back against her pillow. Scott watched Sierra carefully, noticing the black veins on her arms as soon as Sydney's eyes fluttered closed. His own eyes widened and he quickly grabbed Sierra's hand, pulling her away from Sydney and back into the makeshift hallway.

"What are you doing?" he demanded quietly.

"She's obviously very stressed," Sierra pointed out in defense. "I just wanted her to relax!"

Scott sighed, releasing the grip on her hand. "Sierra, as much as we want to help, right now it's best for us to do what Mrs. Martin said," he told her seriously. "We don't know what we're dealing with yet, and until we do, it isn't safe for you to absorb anyone's energy--especially ones that look infected by whatever is going on."

Sierra guiltily looked at the floor, folding her arms. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I just hate waiting around like sitting ducks." She raised her head, letting him see the worry flash through her blue eyes. "What if this is from another assassin?"

"Then we'll handle them like we always do," Scott replied. "I know this whole situation has you on edge, and I'm scared too, but you're forgetting something."

Sierra titled her head, puzzled. "What?"

"You are Sierra Michelle Page, aka one of the most bad ass girls—who  just so happens to be one of my best friends," Scott reminded her, moving his hands to her shoulders. "We've been through a lot together and I've never seen you back down from a fight. So don't start now."

Sierra smiled at him, hiding a laugh as she shook her head. "Dang, dude."

"What?"

"You're stealing my thunder," she joked, poking him in the stomach. "Usually I'm the one giving the pep talks."

Scott shrugged his shoulders, smiling back at her, "That doesn't mean you don't need one every once and a while. Now come on, let's go find Stiles before he starts freaking out."

By the time the pair joined Stiles and the others in their testing room, students had taken back their phones. Unfortunately, all outside communication had been shut off to stop panic from spreading, meaning they had no internet and no cell service. Stiles stood when he saw Scott and Sierra, meeting them halfway.

Except he didn't want to talk there.

He didn't explain as he pulled Sierra back into the hallway, Scott sending Kira and Malia a confused look before following him out. Stiles glanced around, making sure no one was listening before he started to talk. "Okay, Malia said that they're taking whatever this pretty seriously; she could hear the trucks and cars pulling in."

"So did we," Scott agreed, shoving his hands in his pockets. "But why do you look like you have something else we don't know about?"

"Because I do."

Sierra stared at him expectantly and when he hesitated, burst, "Just tell us! Gosh, I hate this kind of tension."

"That instructor in there?" Stiles asked, pointing to the door behind them. "Something isn't right with him."

Scott furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"He's sitting there behind his desk, and was eavesdropping on my conversation with Kira and Malia," Stiles explained, making Sierra and Scott look at one another uneasily as he continued. "I don't know how to explain it, but I just have this feeling, a bad one. He's acting too calm, like he knows what's going on but isn't telling anyone."

"You think he's an assassin?" Sierra read between the lines and he nodded.

"I do."

"We can't prove anything right now," Scott informed them. "But we'll keep an eye on him and each other in case this sickness gets worse. Sound good?"

"Let's do it."

*^*^*^*^*

Melissa McCall stalked through the hospital hallways with a determined look in her eye. She didn't bother saying hello to her fellow nurses or wasted time to chit chat. She simply headed straight for a patient's room.

Jemma couldn't help but jump from Melissa's sudden entrance, startling herself awake. She had been resting her head on Derek's shoulder, trying to get some sleep while she stayed by Braeden's side. Melissa looked at the pair apologetically but didn't say anything at first as she approached Braeden's IV.

Jemma raised her eyebrows at the needle in Melissa's hand, "What's that?"

"Naloxone," Melissa replied, injecting it into the mercenary's system. "We need to wake her up."

"I though you said she needed to rest?" Derek was just as confused as Jemma.

Melissa sighed, glancing at them. "That was before I found out the CDC just put the high school under quarantine, with Scott, Stiles and Sierra still in there."

"They were taking their PSATs," Jemma slightly panicked at the thought of her younger sister. "Why is the CDC there?"

"Something tells me it's about what we found in the woods," Derek guessed and by Melissa's lack of response, he knew he was correct.

Braeden shot up from her hospital bed, her dark brown eyes darting around in fear. She couldn't remember what happened or where she was. Melissa instantly approached her side with a soothing voice, having dealt with this kind of thing before. "Braeden," she said softly. "Braeden, look at me. You were shot, but you're in the hospital now and you're fine. Do you understand?"

Braeden's gaze finally fell on Jemma and Derek, who both nodded in agreement. Only then did she reply with a sigh, "Yeah."

"Good." Melissa didn't waste anymore time, questioning Braeden about where she was last night before Jemma and Derek brought her in. "You came across another pack, right? Do you know what happened?"

"We told you they were poisoned," Jemma reminded the nurse, her brows cinched together.

"No," Braeden spoke up, shaking her head slightly as she disagreed. "No, they were infected. It was a virus. Designed to kill werewolves. And it did." She raised her eyes, her heart heavy.

"It killed them all."

*^*^*^*^*

"Scott still isn't back."

Sierra started to twist her hands together out of nervous habit. She stood in line with Malia and Kira in the hallway, as doctors were getting blood samples from anyone in the building.

Scott, claiming he needed take a break from the stuffy room, went to the bathroom. But that was over half an hour ago.

"I'm sure he's fine," Kira assured her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "My dad and Stiles went to go check on him."

"Yeah, you're right," Sierra sighed, waving her hand in front of her face to create a draft. "I think the heat is just making me panic."

Kira looked at her in concern. "Sierra, what're you talking about? It's freezing in here."

"Then why am I sweating?"

"Guys," Malia spoke up, grabbing their attention. She had been quiet for awhile, her thoughts consuming her. But now, she just needed to talk to someone. "Do you ever get the feeling that Scott and Stiles aren't telling us everything?"

Sierra furrowed her eyebrows as she gathered her hair in her hands, tying it up in a ponytail. "What do you mean?"

"Like... they hide stuff," Malia replied vaguely, shrugging her shoulders.

Kira answered first, speaking honestly, "I think if they did, they probably have a good reason."

"Those two aren't hiding anything," Sierra stated as she finished adjusting her hair, tucking the loose strands behind her ears. "Trust me, Malia, they suck at keeping secrets, especially from me. There isn't anything going on that I don't know about."

"Didn't they keep Liam from you?" Kira wondered aloud.

"Technically, for like a few hours," Sierra gave them the credit with a mere shrug. "But you two are forgetting I am literally like a human lie detector."

"So you don't know what they're hiding under Scott's bed in a lacrosse bag?" Malia asked specifically.

Kira's eyes widened before she scoffed, "What? Pfft, no. I have never been under Scott's bed or in it. Just on it...wearing clothes."

Malia stared at her with raised eyebrows while Sierra stifled a laugh in amusement. "I think Malia was talking to me, Kira," Sierra smiled, the kitsune automatically blushing from embarrassment. She turned back to Malia. "But to answer your question, no, I don't know what's under Scott's bed. If it was important, they'd tell us. It's probably like...I don't know, Pokemon cards or something."

"Kira Yukimura."

Kira stepped towards the doctor, trying to gulp down her nerves. "Are you feeling alright, Kira?" the lady asked and Kira nodded, her eyes locked on the needle. The doctor noticed and offered her an assuring smile. "I don't like needles either, but I promise, it'll be fast."

Kira watched as the doctor placed a cotton ball by the inside of her elbow, preparing to take her blood. But the moment the needle touched Kira's skin, a bright white spark made the doctor jump, Kira's eyes widening as she realized she just electrocuted her.

Sierra noticed as well, stepping up to Kira's side as the doctor turned to a coworker, needing to be evacuated from the scene. Her suit had been contaminated by Kira's electricity.

"Kira," Sierra hissed, grabbing her elbow to pull her away. "Come on."

Sierra instructed Kira and Malia to start walking in front of her, keeping their heads facing forward so they wouldn't draw unwanted attention. Stiles appeared around the corner, sighing in relief once he spotted them. "Thank god; I've been looking for you guys everywhere."

"What's wrong?" Sierra asked worriedly.

"It's Scott," Stiles revealed, looking at Kira and Malia before his gaze shifted to his girlfriend. "He can't control his shift so I--oh my god, Sierra. Your eyes."

Sierra panicked. "What, what's wrong with my eyes?"

"They're changing colors," Stiles rushed out, watching her irises flicker between violet, red and blue. "Like nonstop. It's like you're a freaking rainbow!"

"Stiles, that isn't helping me!"

"Claws, claws, claws," Kira grabbed their attention, pointing to Malia's hands, where sure enough her claws sprouted uncontrollably from her fingernails.

Stiles glanced around to make sure no one could see what was happening. "Sierra, keep your head down," he instructed sternly, grabbing her hand. "Malia, put your hands in your pocket now, and follow us. Kira, make sure no one else follows."

"Where are we going?" Sierra asked quietly, covering her eyes like he told her to.

Glancing down at her, he sighed.

"We're going to where Scott is so we can figure out what the hell is happening."

*^*^*^*^*

No matter how hard she concentrated, Sierra's eyes continued to flash multiple colors. When they found Scott, he suffered from the same issue, except his kept flickering red.

Beads of sweat crowded his forehead and Scott forced himself to take long breaths until his friends gathered in the locker room beside him.

Malia held up her claws, her voice tinged with worry. "I can't get them to go back," she revealed.

"Obviously the virus is affecting you three in a way that won't hit any human being," Mr. Yukimura concluded, referring to Malia, Scott and Sierra.

Stiles, who remained beside Sierra and held her hand tightly, stated, "You guys have to stay out of sight. We have to quarantine you...from the quarantine."

"But where?" Kira asked, concerned for their safety. "I mean, what if they get violent? Like on a full moon."

"If they get violent, I can't protect myself," Sierra agreed, trying to hide her fear. "I know my eyes keep flashing, but I don't grow fangs or claws."

"But you do have seismic blasts that could level the building," her teacher pointed out.

Scott raised his head from where he had been staring at the floor, looking at Sierra as he stated, "We shouldn't stay in here. Not in the locker room."

"Okay, but a classroom isn't going to hold us," Malia replied, resting her back against the lockers.

"The basement."

Everyone turned to Sierra in curiosity, allowing her to continue. "The basement itself isn't secure," she explained her thought process, "and we need to go somewhere nobody can find us, right? But think about what family has a certain vault that is completely underneath the school, isolated from everyone and everything? Surely they would've put in another exit."

"And you think the second entrance to the Hale vault is in the basement," Stiles caught on, liking her plan. "That could work. The Hales had an escape route in their house, so she's probably right about there being one for the vault."

"We need the blueprints."

Mr. Yukimura came through with the blueprints not even ten minutes later, and quickly spread it out across one of the lacrosse benches. Stiles pointed to a rectangle, dragging his finger to the right, "That's where the school sign is, so the vault's got to be right about here."

"And since the basement has multiple exits, putting another entrance there would be perfect," Scott put the pieces together, Malia wiping sweat from her face as she stood beside him.

"What about this hallway?" Sierra suggested, studying the blueprint closely. "Look, there's two outside doors within twenty feet."

"West corridor," Stiles agreed tiredly, but then stumbled as he completely missed the table. Mr. Yukimura caught him, Sierra helping him regain balance. "Whoa." As he blinked to regain focus, she couldn't help but catch sight of familiar lesions appearing on the front of his wrist.

"It's happening to you too," Mr. Yukimura sighed, seeing the marks as well. "You're getting sick. You all are."

Kira looked at her father with furrowed brows. "But I don't feel sick." And she was speaking the truth. While everyone else started experiencing claw growth, flashing lights or hot flashes, Kira stood perfectly fine.

"I think it's affecting you differently," Mr. Yukimura told her. "Neurologically." Everyone stared at him as he revealed their test answer sheets, shuffling through to find his daughter's. "Just to make sure you guys weren't suffering from any brain...well anything, I took your booklets. But, Kira, yours looked a little different." He set it on the bench for her to see.

Kira's eyes widened, seeing her marks no where near the answer bubbles. And during the test, she swore she was filling them out perfectly.

Realizing that everyone was now infected by whatever virus was going around, Sierra spoke up, leaning on the bench, "We need to get to the vault."

Scott quickly agreed, not hesitating to reply.

"Right now."