Prologue

It's always funny, how humans want to hunt the things that they don't understand. I've had that amusement for most of my life. I'm a Skinwalker, one of the last of my kind. That doesn't mean, though, that I'm going to go off and make more.
I guess it might be important to mention that I'm an assassin. It's the only work my people can find these days. I'm not like human ones, though. I kill the things that give you night terrors. I kill the demons, spirits, and even my own kind from time to time.
My name is Ares Daniella Phoenix, and I'm the only one in my clan left. The humans even took my sister, and for that not a single one will live.

Chapter One

I moved through the forest, my nose working to find the demon that I knew was here. I had to be honest, this wasn't my type of terrain. I didn't like the thick forests and plains that Texas had to offer. I was more of a bayou girl. My eyes searched the trees around me. I smelled the sulfuric, disgusting smell that demons gave off, so I knew I was close. Then, I smelled the humans. My eyes narrowed, and I let a growl escape me.
Their footsteps got closer to me, so I darted behind a tree. The first one I saw was maybe six feet tall, which only put him five inches taller than my five-foot-seven. His hair was cropped short, and his eyes were a shocking kind of green. He looked back at the guy behind him, who I'd put at six-three, taller than the other one. His hair was longer, and his eyes were more hazel.
"Well, I know that the demon's here," the taller one muttered. I could hear them, of course, but that's not important at the moment. The shorter one nodded. "I know, Sam, but without the Colt, we're basically screwed."
"I know," Sam admitted. "We can still exorcise it, Dean."
"And how do you plan on doing that?" I asked, stepping out from behind the tree. They looked shocked for a moment, then the one called Dean threw holy water on me. I laughed. "I'm not your enemy, boys," I said. "I'm after the same girl you are, so save your Holy water, okay?" Sam looked shocked, and I couldn't blame them. I was probably one of those breath-taking beauties that men like them died for. I knew I was pretty, but I didn't care for looks. I cared about my job as a Hunter.
"Who the hell are you?" Dean asked. Leave it to him to get to the point.
"I'm Ares," I said. "Like the two of you, from what I can see, I'm a Hunter."
"I'm Sam, and this is Dean," Sam said. I nodded. "Are you after Meg or her sister?" he asked.
"Meg means nothing to me," I growled. "I'm after Alexandria's hide. She killed my mom and sister, so she deserves to go to hell."
"Yeah. Alexandria's the one who's been killing truckers lately. They pick her up, she slits their throat. She's in a blond girl's body, so that why we're hoping to exorcise her."
"You think that'll stop her for long? She'll be back. Azazel will see to that." That gave the boys pause. Then, I remembered where I'd heard the names before. I felt like a total dumb ass, but I still looked them in the eyes. "You're John Winchester's boys, aren't you?" I asked.
"How'd you know?" Dean asked. I smiled and leaned against the tree, crossing my boot-clad feet at the ankles. "I met him once, and he told me about you. I worked with him on a case, actually," I said. "I make a note to know about my partners."
"So, you want our help on this? We're free," Sam said. I thought for a moment, then nodded. "I've got a place not too far from here," I said, walking to the edge of the forest to where my motorcycle was. "You can follow me or whatever. I honestly don't care." Yeah, I was being a jerk, but I didn't trust humans. The only other person that I'd worked with was a demi-god, so I trusted her. Her father was my namesake, to boot. They followed me out, but Dean said something in that moment that pissed me off. "You give us nay reason not to trust you, we'll kill you." I spun around and kicked him in the gut. Sam didn't move. "Let's get one thing straight," I growled. "Just because your father worked with me gives you no reason to treat me like shit. I will do as I please, and if you don't like it, kiss my ass."
Sam chuckled. "Dean, she's a Skinwalker," he said. Dean glared.
"Then we should kill her now," he said. He pulled out a silver knife, and I kicked it out of his hand. "You are a moron

," I said. "Do you think I would be a Hunter if I was still true to the Skinwalker ways? Sam, at least, gets it!" I moved away from him. "I don't need your help. I'll do this on my own." I spun away, but Sam touched my shoulder. "No, please, we need your

help." I looked at him. There was sincerity in his eyes, so I sighed and glared over at Dean, who was staring at the knife like it was a fungus. "I'll help," I said. "Only because I like you, Sam. If it weren't for you, Dean would be shit out of luck."
Dean's glare was not lost. I smiled and shrugged. "You hate me because I'm a Skinwalker, right? I hate you because you're a human. We're even."

Chapter Two

When we got to the warehouse, Dean's eyes followed my every movement. I knew that he didn't trust me, but the feeling was sure as hell mutual. I didn't trust him, and I barely trusted Sam. I liked him, though, because he was willing to admit that he needed my help. Not many people will do that.
I moved over to a table, sitting in a chair. "Sit if you want," I said. "The chairs won't bite you." Sam sat first, then Dean reluctantly sat as well. "Look," I said. "Alexandria is one hell of an opponent. I've been on her trail for years, and she still evades me. Have you had any luck?"
"She's here, in Waco, that much we know," Sam said. "We smelled the sulfur in the forest, so we figured she was there." I shook my head. "No," I said. "The smell was old. She's been there, and she might go back, but I'm not sitting in those woods til she comes back. That's a waste of time. Besides, there's a local 'wolf problem."
"Werewolves?" Dean asked.
"Just one. His name is Marcus, and he used to be an ally of mine. Then he went rogue a few weeks ago. I've been after him ever since. I need help with him, though, since he knows all my methods."
"He doesn't know ours," Sam pointed out. I nodded and took a strip of beef jerky out of my jacket. "Yeah," I said. "That's why I've been looking for some Hunters to help me with him. You're the only ones who've offered." Sam nodded.
"Why hasn't anyone else taken you up on it?" Dean asked. He was being a little nicer to me, probably for his brother's sake. I shrugged. "How am I supposed to know?" I asked. "They probably don't want to go after a 'wolf that's as well known as Marcus is."
"Wait, you mean he's the Midnight Killer?" Dean said. "Dad told me about him a few days ago, when I last heard from him. Said that this 'wolf is smarter and faster than the others we've hunted."
"Yeah, that's him," I said. "He's always been like that. For a while, he helped me Hunt, but now he's just like the things I go after." Sam nodded. Part of me sensed that he understood, and maybe he did. Maybe he knew what it was like to lose someone in this so-called "job" like I did. I wanted to ask, but I instantly killed that idea. No way was I going down that road. Not here, not now.
"So," Dean said, killing my thought train. "Where should we start looking for him?"
"He usually hangs out near the bars in town. That's always the first place I'd ever look for him," I said. "He's got a minor drinking problem."
"I'll go check that out," Dean said. "Sam, you and Ares ask around, see if he's got any particulars in his victims." Sam and I both nodded. Dean sighed and left. Sam then turned to me. "Sorry about him," he said. "Dean doesn't trust anyone but me and Dad. It's not your fault."
"I'm used to it," I said. "No other Hunters have ever trusted me. Except for your dad and Bobby Singer."
"You know Bobby?" He was shocked. "He took care of us a lot when Dad was off hunting. He's like our father, you know?" I nodded. Bobby, the crabby old man, had become like a father to me as well.
"You have something other than the motorcycle, right?" Sam asked.
"Well, I've got a 1998 Camaro," I told him. "I like the Harley better, but if you don't like it, we'll use the car." Sam nodded. "It's not that I don't like the motorcycle," he said. "I'm just not used to one. I've been in the Impala most of my life." I smiled. I knew the feeling. I wasn't used to the car, but it was useful. I chewed my lip for a moment. "Well, if we're going to pose as cops, my dad's old '04 Charger should do better. Most feds use them." His eyebrows shot up. "How many vehicles do you have?" he asked.
"I have a few," I replied, laughing.

Chapter Three

Sam and I pulled up to the coroner's a little after one. In our tailored suits, we really did look like FBI agents, which was a good thing, you know, since that's what we were supposed to be. My ID had a believable name, Danielle Parson. Sam's, however, didn't. He was supposed to be Agent Steven Tyler. Really, do you know how many people know he's the lead singer of Aerosmith? I know I do! "Why are you named after Aerosmith's lead singer?" I asked him as we walked up the steps. Sam laughed. "Ask Dean that one. I'd kill for a name like yours."
"Really? So, if you could have chosen, what would it have been?"
"Probably Stephen Williams or something. I'd still use my initials, though. It makes things easier." I laughed at him. Then, I put my stone-faced demeanor back in place. There was no use in letting my guard down around a guy that I would only be around for a few days tops. I was overreacting more than anything else.
We entered the building and the Resident, I think his name was Jason, met us. "Oh, good, you're here," he said. "Dr. Taylor is waiting for you." We followed him to the morgue and were greeted by a small, thin man with thinning hair and a kind smile.
"Agents Parson and Tyler, it's a pleasure," he said, leading us to one of the "freezers" as they're commonly called. He opened it, and he pulled out the petite blond that was inside.
"Doctor, can you tell us what you've found?" Sam asked.
"Well, it was an animal attack, that much is certain. The only anomaly is that only the heart was missing. I'm not quite sure what that means."
"Have all the victims been like this?" I asked.
"Yes, but I'm not sure how that fits in. What are you suggesting?"
"We think maybe there's a person using an animal to do his killing," Sam said. I liked that explanation. It was simple and human enough to get some serious thought. The doctor thought about that for a moment. "That could actually be the reason," he said. "All the vics were the same height, generally the same body type, and all were blondes."
"Just one other question," I said. "Were they natural blondes? That would narrow our pool a little, I think."
"Yes. None had the tell-tale dye chemicals in their scalps, and none had roots showing," Dr. Taylor said. I nodded and took that down on paper.


We left, and I think we had more questions than answers. Why was Marcus after the blondes? He'd always had a thing for girls with black hair. He was a blond himself. Was it the fact that he'd been slighted by them when he was still human?
Sam saw the thoughts in my eyes. "What are you thinking, Ares?" he asked me. I shook my head. "I'm not sure if Marcus is the one orchestrating this," I said. "If it were, he'd probably go after girls with black hair, like me. And how does he know if they're natural blondes or not? Even I can't smell the difference between natural hair and dyed hair." Sam shook his head. He was just as confused as I was, that much was apparent.
"Maybe they've researched these girls. Two of the three were prostitutes, so maybe he's not as bad as we thought he was." I shook my head. "He is, Sam," I said. "And that's what's making this case so hard. He was my friend, the only one that didn't shy away when he found out what I was. He was a little like you, actually."
"Are you saying you trust me?" By that time, we had reached the car, and I busied myself unlocking the doors and getting in. I didn't want to answer that, because I didn't know the answer. Did I trust Sam? I wasn't sure. I didn't really trust anyone, but Sam was getting me to lower my guard and that worried me.
"I don't know," I said honestly. "I think I do, but I couldn't work with you because of Dean. He hates me."
"No, he just doesn't like to be taken off guard. He was a little shocked that I knew."
"How did you know?" That was my biggest worry. Was I on the List that most Hunters kept?
"I have these visions, and I saw you in one. You told us what you were and Dean tried to kill you. He didn't succeed, but he tried like hell," he said, looking ahead at the road. I was shocked. This was a huge revelation from him, because I didn't think there was a drop of anything supernatural in this guy. That's what I get for thinking,

I thought. His hazel eyes found me. "You hate me now, don't you?" he asked. I shocked myself by laughing. "No," I said, when the fit had subsided. "I'm just a little relieved that we both have something in common. I'm a Skinwalker with strange abilities, and you're a human that has visions. You realize that makes you psychic, right?"
"Yeah, I know." His phone rang, and he picked it up. "Yeah?" He listened for a moment, then said, "OK, we're on our way." He hung up and looked at me. "Dean found Marcus. He's at a warehouse a few miles south of here."
"Good. I have a plan."

Chapter Four

We met at the warehouse, and Dean was sitting in front. Sam and I walked up to him. "Where is he?" I asked.
"He hasn't made it back yet," Dean said. I nodded.
"Do you have any silver chains? I have an idea."
"What?" I sighed. Dean was clueless, so I couldn't blame him; I had only told Sam my plan so far.
"You two hide up in the rafters and I'll lead him right below you. When I say 'you dick,' drop the chains. That'll hold him down long enough for me to get him tied up."
"Why call him a dick, though?" Sam asked.
"He's acting like one." My response was simple and to the point. I was furious with Marcus for what he was doing. There was no excuse for him to be acting this way, werewolf or not. Dean nodded and they grabbed some chains from his trunk. I was glad that, like me, he had the sense to park far enough away that the sight of the cars wouldn't alarm him. In fact, the two of us had chosen a nearby gas station to park at.
"Let's get this over with," I said. Sam looked at me, worry apparent in his eyes. I ignored it, hoping he thought I just didn't notice. Dean gave me a skeptical look. I know what he was thinking. He thought that I would betray them. That I would bring them into the warehouse, and let Marcus attack them. I'm not sure what kind of Hunter he thought I was, but I was ready to prove him wrong.
They moved into position and I waited in front of the place. Soon, I saw Marcus come up to the warehouse. He paused when he saw me, then a sad smile crossed his face. I had almost forgotten how handsome he was. He was six feet or so with curly, blond hair and deep blue eyes. He was one of those guys that wasn't huge because he was fat, he was just well-built. He walked up to me and smiled. "What are you doing here, Ares?" he asked, leading me into the warehouse.
"I think you know why, Marcus," I growled, moving under the Winchesters so that he followed. Soon, he was directly under them. "You've been killing all those girls, and I'm here to kill you."
"How? You can't use silver against me; it'll burn you."
"You're still the same, Marcus. God, you dick!" Just then, the chains dropped on him, and I pulled on some gloves so that I could wrap them around him and a nearby chair. "I have my ways, you know," I snarled. He growled as I kicked him in the gut. "Why are you doing this?" I demanded.
"I'd never tell a traitor like you," he said. I motioned to Dean who drug a silver knife across his arm. He screamed and tried to pull away. It was no use, I'd tied it too tightly. "Answer me!" I said once more.
"I killed them because I felt like it. Natural blondes have this smell, you know? They don't smell like the color-treated shampoo that the others use. They're clean and wonderful. Kind of like you."
I slapped him and nodded at Sam, who then shot Marcus in the heart. I turned away and started to unwound the chains, trying not to look up. I knew that goodbye was coming, and for some weird reason, I didn't want that. My eyes stayed on the ground as I handed the chain to Dean and turned to walk away. Sam touched my shoulder, and it felt like a hot, sliver iron was being pressed into my skin. "Wait," he said. His voice was soft, and I almost let a tear escape my eyes. I couldn't let that happen. Not here.
"Maybe you could help us from here on?" he suggested.
"I'm sorry, Sam," I sighed. "I'm not a team person. I hunt alone." I knew then that he looked over at Dean. We all knew that I was lying through my teeth, trying to make an excuse not to be around the man that hated what I was. I knew that neither of them had ever seen a good

Skinwalker before.
"Then, maybe we could stay in touch?" he asked. "We could use your input on hunts, I think."
"Sam, just drop it!" I yelled, wheeling around to face him. My golden eyes flashed and a snarl almost escaped me. "I don't think you want help from me

of all people!" I left then, moving to my Harley. It was my solace, my safe haven.
I heard footsteps coming up behind me, and I clenched my fists at my sides. "Sam, I said drop it!" I said.
"I'm not Sam," Dean said. I turned and saw him standing about two feet from me, his hands in his jacket pockets. His green eyes found my gold ones, and his were full of remorse for the things he had said. That didn't change my mind about him. I could feel the hatred coming off of him. I wasn't sure if it was hatred for me or for the things he had said, and I didn't think I cared either.
"I just wanted to apologize for being an ass," he said quietly. He knew that, even though Sam may not be able to hear him, I could. I could hear his steady heartbeat from two feet away.
"Dean, it's not your fault," I said. "You were raised to hunt my kind. It's only natural that you want me gone." I let a little bitterness seep into your voice. "I know how you Hunters work. You kill off "monsters" without thinking how their families will feel. Your father's mentor, Elkins, killed my mom and sister!"
"What?"
"You heard me. I'm done here."
"Sam likes you, and that's saying a lot. The demon we've been after for years killed our mother. He also killed Sammy's girlfriend recently." I let that sink in. Is that one of the reasons that Sam was attaching himself to me? I turned my face away from Dean. I forced the tears to stay in my eyes. "I'm sorry," I said. "I had no idea."
"I'm not saying you have to stay with us," he said again. "Just help us out for a while. I'm sure Sam would appreciate it." I nodded. He was right, of course. Sam took up for me, he had given me something that no other human had: Trust. That was something I couldn't walk away from, no matter how hard I had let my heart become.
"OK. I'll stay for a while," I said. Dean smiled, and I had to admit, he looked much more pleasant with a smile on his face. He almost looked like a normal guy, talking to his brother's angry girlfriend. I stopped my thought. Was that how I saw myself? As Sam's girlfriend? I barely knew the guy!
"Sam will appreciate that, you know," Dean said.
"I know. I'm only doing this for him. He, at least, trusts me."

Chapter Five

I walked back into the warehouse. I threw my leather jacket on the table. "OK," said. "What's our next case?" Sam's eyes lit up. He gave a smile, and looked at Dean. "What did you tell her?" he asked.
"Just that I'd hate to let a good Hunter slip away." He smiled at his brother, and I almost felt like a part of their family.
"Well, this was our only case for the moment. We need to wait til something comes up," Sam said. I nodded. "Well," I said. "Maybe Bobby has something we could look into? I'm just getting stir-crazy."
"We can go by his place," Dean said. "You want to ride with us or on you Harley?" I thought about that for a moment. I loved my Harley, but riding with them would be an easier option. Then, the other thought: What would I do

with it until later?
"I'll ride with you," I said finally. "Let me make a phone call so I can take care of where to send it." They nodded and I went into another room to make a call to the Skinwalker that made me. He picked up on the third ring.
"Ares, it's been a while," David said.
"Look, I need a favor."
"About Marcus? Or is this something else?
"I've found a couple Hunters that I'm going to be working with. John's boys. I need you to take care of the Harley while I'm with them. I figure it'll be easier for me to ride in the Impala with them for now."
He let out a sigh. "I'll get it taken care of, love," he said. "You just take care of yourself, you hear?"
"Of course, David. You too." I ended the call and walked back in the main room with Dean and Sam. "It's taken care of," I said. "So, when do we leave?"
"We can leave now. Everything's been taken care of here, right?" Sam said. I nodded. He smiled. "Good, then let's go."

When we finally reached Bobby's, his huge Mastiff met me at the car. "Hey, Rumsfeld," I said, scratching him behind the ears. He wagged his stumpy tail, and then he proceeded to follow me to the door.
"What's up with that?" Sam asked.
"I used to share food with him," I said with a shrug. "He's liked me since." Their bewildered looks followed me into the house. I wanted to laugh. They knew nothing

about me, obviously.
I entered the house, Sam at my side and Dean behind us. It was strangely comforting to have Sam there, and I had no idea why.
Bobby, when I entered the room he was in, smiled and gave me a huge hug. "If it isn't everyone's favorite Skinwalker," he said. I laughed. Bobby was one of the few people that knew the whole story and wasn't afraid of me or hated me.
"How've you been, Bobby?" I asked. "You've been laying off the whiskey?"
"Mostly. What brings you here? And how'd you meet those two idjits?"
"We're not idjits, Bobby," Dean said.
"Right. And I'm a damned unicorn," Bobby said. He went over to the desk in the middle of the room. He picked up a newspaper and handed it to Sam. "I was just about to call the two of you anyway," he said. Sam was engrossed in the article, and I couldn't help but to read over his shoulder. "This sounds like something for animal control, not us," Sam said.
"Keep reading, son, you'll see." Bobby was dead serious. I had seen that there were reports of "big black dogs" following the two victims, but Animal Control hadn't seen them. That was what caught my attention. "Could they be what I think they are?" I asked Bobby. He shook his head. "I've checked records of Skinwalkers. There aren't any packs in that particular area," he said. " I frowned. I wasn't sure what this "big black dog" was, and most of the time, Death Omens were based on either Skinwalkers or Werewolves.
"So," Sam said. "Looks like we're heading to Mississippi." Dean groaned. Bobby, however, turned to me. "You still haven't told me how you

of all people hooked up with these two."
"I was hunting a Werewolf in Waco, and they were hunting a demon," I said. "We took down the wolf together, and Sam here convinced me that we'd make a good team. I figured that I could go along for the ride." Bobby shook his head. I barely heard him mutter "Raging hormones is what it is."
"That's not it, Bobby. And you know it." He simply laughed and looked at Dean and Sam. "You two better take care of her," he said. "If you don't, you've got me to worry about."

Chapter Six

I blushed. "Bobby, quit treating me like a kid!" I said.
"Sorry, it's habit," he replied. Sam nodded and I followed them outside to the Impala. I took the newspaper article and began to re-read it. I knew there was something I was missing. I just couldn't tell what it was that I was missing.
"Why so quiet?" Dean asked. He was making an effort to be nice to me, that much was obvious. Maybe it was because Bobby trusted me. Maybe he just saw that he didn't have to hate me so much anymore.
"I'm missing something here," I said. "I just know I am. I just can't figure out what it is that I'm not getting."

Suddenly, it hit me. "Guys!" I yelled. "I know what we're dealing with!" Sam turned around to face me. "What?" he asked.
"We've got Hell Hounds on our hands. That would explain why the victims were successful out of nowhere and then died ten years after their success. We need to find the place that they've all got in common!"
"How the hell did you figure that out so fast?" Dean asked.
"I dealt with a Crossroads Demon a couple years back. They're slimy little bastards."
"I see," Sam said. "They're the ones that control the Hounds?"
"Yes and no. See, they just tell the Hounds who's ten years is up. After that, the Hounds are taken care of by a higher level Demon. Though, Meg is the one that usually uses them to do her bidding. Mainly because Yellow-Eyes is her father, which makes her more powerful than she looks." I stopped myself because I was going into a rant again. I couldn't believe that I had missed the obvious signs of Hell Hounds. What in the Goddess's name was wrong with me?
"So, we have to worry about another

Demon?" Dean sighed. I nodded. "Seems that way to me," I admitted. Normally, I didn't care, but it seemed that these two had had their share of Demons for a while. "We could always find another case," I said, knowing in my heart that neither would pass this up.
"Hell no," Dean said. "We've already told Bobby we'd check this out. I don't go back on my word." The unspoken sentence was in the air, though. I could almost hear him say "unlike you." I clenched my teeth and said nothing. I didn't want a fight here. Not now. I promised myself I'd be civil with Dean.
"Sorry," Dean said, as if he could sense why I was angry. "That wasn't a stab at you, okay? I was just saying that some Hunters will change cases if they think a case is too tricky for them. I'm pretty sure you haven't done that."
"Nope. I don't go back on my word either." Sam smiled, and I could tell that he was enjoying the fact that Dean was finding a new outlet for his snide remarks. It wasn't that he was happy that Dean was being rude, he was just glad that the attention had shifted a bit.
"OK, so here's the deal," I said. "Mississippi is a pretty big state, if you haven't guessed. We need to do a hell of a lot of asking around to find the place. If, that is, they do have anything in common." Dean nodded and Sam had a thoughtful look on his face. "Well," he said. "Maybe they don't have a place in common. How do you even summon a Crossroads Demon?"
"First, you have to be at

a crossroad. Then, you've got to have some type of bones, I forget which, a picture of you, and dirt from the road in a box. Then, the Demon shows up and you tell it your wish."
"Is it really that simple?" Dean asked. I nodded. "Most people think they'll be making a deal directly with the devil. That doesn't happen. Lucifer has more things on his mind than to go making deals with people. He just gets the lesser Demons to do it for him."
"Hmm, I didn't think about that," Sam admitted. It was something that really made my skin crawl. I hated, and still do hate, it when people didn't bother to think things through. I just shook my head. "OK, so here's the deal," I said. "There's bound to be a place there that they've all been to. It's got to be at a crossroad and it's got to be within the state. I doubt any of them went out of the state to make a deal."
"Right," Sam said. "That would be the only thing that would make sense to me."

Chapter Seven

Sam and I, in our tailored suits, went up to the condo that Sean Boyden was building before his death. We were posing as writers for "Architectural Digest" or some other magazine like that. I almost laughed as Sam said that, but managed to keep a straight face.
"Yeah," his partner said. "I've known Sean for a while now. He had quite the flair for business."
"How long has he been an architect?"
"About ten years. He couldn't design for beans before that, and he was working at a bar called Lloyd's. We met up, and he showed me his stuff. It was pretty damned good." I shot Sam a Look. "And you know what?" the partner said. "Then overnight, he became this genius designer, designing some of the most ingenious buildings anyone had ever seen. It was just plain weird."
"Well, thanks," I said. My mind was working to piece the whole thing together. Normally, Hell Hounds don't drive their victims off a roof. They just claw them to shreds. Obviously, this guy was smart. He probably died on impact.
"What do you think?" Sam asked when we had left the condo. I sighed. "He was smart, that much is obvious," I said. "Instead of sitting around while the Hounds ripped him apart, he jumped off a roof. Died on impact. Not too much pain there."
"Thank you, Miss Cynical," Sam joked.
"I'm being serious, Sam," I said. "If it were me, I'd take a silver bullet to the brain before I let a Hound tear me apart. It's not pleasant, from what I've heard."

We met up with Dean, and he had a little info for us. "OK," he said. "They've received 19 calls total. The most recent caller was a Sylvia Pearlman. And, she gave me her Myspace address. What the hell is a Myspace?"
"You seriously don't know?" Sam asked.
"No, what is that? Some kind of porn site?" Sam just rolled his eyes, as did I. Dean was so clueless.
At Sylvia's house, we spoke with the maid and found out that Sylvia disappeared two days ago after reporting of seeing black dogs. She was a surgeon at a very young age, the youngest in the history of the hospital. She got the job ten years ago. Dean noticed a picture of Sylvia and her friends at a bar, he flips it over and reads Lloyd’s Bar 1996. He gave us a Look, and I raised my eyebrows.
"Thank you, ma'am," I said to the maid as we left. "OK," so that's victim number two so far," I said to them back in the Impala. "We've got to find her."
"Look," Dean said. "Her number is up. We need to check out this bar." I nodded reluctantly. He was right, of course. I hated to leave her alone out there, but there's no way to escape a Hell Hound. They were ruthless, and would stop at nothing to get their target.

We walked up to Lloyd's, where all the victims were ten years ago. Dean noticed there were yarrow flowers planted in the middle of a bunch of weeds, used for summoning rituals. Dean starts digging a hole at the center of the crossroad and finds an old metal box buried inside. Dean opened it up and found a bottle of graveyard dirt, a black cat bone, and other deep hoodoo items, used for summoning demons. "Looks like you were right, Ares," Sam said. "Crossroads Demons." I nodded. A chill had found its way into my bones. That was a black cat, one of my animal relatives. What the hell?
"All right then," Sam said. "We need to find out who else made a deal ten years ago. Dean shook his head. "No way, man," he said. "It was their idea to make these deals. There's nothing we can do about it, Sammy."
"Come on, Dean. We have to do this. It's our job, remember?" Dean swore under his breath and agreed to finish the job. "OK," I said. I'll go ask around and see who else in the area was here on that night."


I came out with a smile on my face. "We need to find George Darrow. He was the last one that I haven't checked out yet." Sam nodded and we got back into the Impala. What was I getting myself into this time?

Chapter Eight

Outside of the apartment, we noticed a line of what looked like pepper on the floor behind the door. Really? Everyone knows you use salt to keep a Demon out,

I thought. I looked at the boys, who nodded. They had noticed that too.
Dean knocked on the door first. George answered with a simple "Whatever it is you're selling, I ain't buying!" Then slammed the door in our faces. Dean wastes no time in mentioning the deal he made ten years ago. Darrow gave us five minutes.
He explained that the stuff outside his door was Gofer Dust, used as protection against demons. We didn't get much out of him and he didn't seem to want our help. He brushed us off by saying, “sometimes people make their bed and they have to sit down and lie in it.” All he wanted to do, it seemed, is buy a little time to finish one last painting. However, he did give us the name of another guy who made a deal with the demon, Evan Hudson. We thanked him and left the apartment, speeding along, trying to get to Hudson's house before it was too late. I couldn't help but let a small feeling of helplessness fill me. There was no helping this guy. Even with a little of the Gofer Dust that George had given us, those Hell Hounds were going to get him. They were going to get Sylvia, if they hadn't already, and they were going to get George. There was no stopping this. It was just the way things had to be.
I saw where Dean was getting his idea from. There was no way to fix this. They had made their choices. Now, as the saying goes, it was "coming back to bite them in the ass." Sam, as usual, saw this in my eyes. How could he look me in the eye like that? It was a little comforting that he didn't shy away from me.
"What's wrong?" he asked. I shook my head. "It's nothing really," I said. "I was just thinking that these people are beyond our help. There's no way to stop the Hounds. It's just the hand that Fate dealt them." I wasn't much of a philosopher, I'll admit that now. And, between you and me, I don't care. I only say what I mean.
"We still have to try, Ares," Sam muttered.
"Sam, there is no help for them, don't you see? No matter what we do, if we kill this Demon or exorcise it, there will be another to take its place. And another to take its place. It's just a never-ending cycle." I turned my attention on Dean. "Is that what you're planning? Use the Colt? Or are you just going to exorcise it and see what happens?"
"How do you know that we've got the Colt?" Dean asked. He was getting suspicious, but I didn't care. I was on a rant, and I didn't plan to stop.
"Every Hunter knows who has the Colt. Elkins had it, then your dad got it from him, and you got it from John. We know. That's not the point, what is

your plan?"
Sam looked at Dean, and it was obvious that he was the one who usually came up with plans like this. "I don't know," he said with a sigh. I gave an exasperated groan. "That's genius, Dean," I said bitterly. "Like I said, there's nothing you can do to fix this!"
"Are you always a cynic like this?" Sam asked.
"Cynic? I'm not being a cynic, I'm being a realist! Like George said, 'sometimes you make your bed, then you just have to sit and lie in it.' I'm taking his advice here."
"Still, we're Hunters, it's our job to try."
"Sam, there are just some things that you can't help with." I sat back in the backseat and folded my arms. I was fuming, I know, but Sam wasn't seeing my point. There was no way

to do anything about this. No way. And I was trying to get Sam to see that. Dean, finally, broke the silence. "I know we can't stop them, but maybe we can find who holds the contracts and kill them."
"And you think the Demon will just give you that? It won't. It will love the fact that this is torturing you, and it will tease you with the info until you cave and make a deal with it."

Chapter Nine

We got to Hudson's house, and we noticed that the study light was on. Thinking that we were demons, Evan slammed the door on us and ran into his study. Sam and Dean broke down the door and went into the study. After convincing him that we weren't demons, I asked him, "what did you ask for? Fame, money, or was it a beautiful wife?"
Evan told me, "my wife. She was dying of cancer, and I begged the demon to save her." A lump formed in my throat. He did something so selfless. Dean, however, didn't see it that way. "You idiot!" he said. "Don't you know that you can't cheat Death?" Evan didn't have time to respond because there were growls coming from the hallway. "Go," Sam said. "Put some of the Gofer Dust out there to buy us some time, OK?" Dean nodded and rushed out. "Sam, they're here," I muttered. I could smell the sulfur coming off of them, I could hear their growls, and my blood ran cold. I think it's because of our enhanced senses, but Skinwalkers are able to see

them. They're hideous. If you don't know what a Hell Hound looks like, trust me: You don't want

to know.
Dean came back into the room. "Try and hold them off," he said. "I'm going to Lloyd's to try and get the Demon to call them off."
"That's a bad idea," I said. "You'll get yourself killed!"
"I agree with Ares," Sam said. "Besides, you shouldn't. You're always thinking that Dad made a deal. What if it lies to you and says that he did?"
"I'll deal with it if that happens. I'm going whether you like it or not, Sam." He ran out before we could protest any more. Sam laid down a circle of Gofer Dust around Evan. "No matter what you see or hear," I told him. "You can't step outside of this circle. It'll buy you some time."
"S-some?" he asked. "I'm still going to die?"
"No, this is mainly to buy time for our partner to get things handled," I assured him. I could hear the Hound getting closer, and I could see the saliva dripping from its ugly muzzle. I clutched at Sam's arm. "Sam," I whispered. "It's not backing off!" He held my hand, and I felt a surge of warmth. We stepped inside the circle with Evan, and suddenly, it was over. The Hound was gone, and we were left standing in the room in a circle of Gofer Dust. Sam looked at me. I nodded. "It's gone," I said. I couldn't smell or hear it, and I surely couldn't see it. Thank Goddess for small miracles.


Later, we were sitting on the hood of the Impala, and Dean took a swig out of a beer bottle. "Dad did make a deal, Sammy," he said out of nowhere. "He should have gone down fighting, not bargaining with the damned things." I felt like I should go, but Sam took my hand and shook his head slightly. He didn't want me to leave. That made me feel so good. I was wanted by someone.
"Look," I said. "I knew the old man, and he saved so many people. That was his legacy. Not that he was an ex-marine, hard ass. If you want to carry on his legacy, use what he taught you to save people. I wish I had a dad that had done that for me." Dean smiled, one of his only smiles in my direction. I felt like part of their family, and it was a good feeling. Sam's hand was where mine belonged, and I figured that I could even learn to laugh at Dean's jokes.
"You've got to go now, don't you?" Dean asked. I shook my head. "I think that I could stay for a while," I said as Sam smiled at me. "You guys are entertaining." Dean laughed. I was thinking to myself that maybe Dean wanted me around too, but only because I'd been around. I knew the ways of creatures like myself.
"Good," Sam said. "I don't want you to leave. I like you." That admission made up my mind. I didn't think I'd ever leave. Part of me knew that there was Hell down the road for us, literally or figuratively I didn't know. I just knew that things were going to get harder for us. I knew, though, that as long as I still had Sam, I'd be okay.

Impressum

Texte: ANY AND ALL CHARACTERS FROM THE SHOW "SUPERNATURAL" DO NOT BELONG TO ME! THERE ARE A FEW OF MY OWN, BUT NOT MANY OK?!
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 25.01.2012

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For Shane. I know you weren't much of a Supernatural fan, but you've always like reading my stuff. Thank you, my love!