Something Wicked This Way Comes

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, but I wish I did.

Summary: When a hunt lands the Winchesters an extra crew member, Castiel becomes more than a little hostile. But Sam is convinced that Vix is different somehow, and her determination to prove him right throws the usual preconceptions into question.

Chapter 1 – Vix

I was used to hunters.

Having been hunted since I left the safe haven of the council in England 2 years ago, I had learned how best to cover my tracks – from using simple glamours to more complicated memory charms as I travelled from town to town – and I knew when hunters were gaining on me.

An uneasy alliance with Hexer – a former friend who, since taking over his father's coven, had started using his not inconsiderable powers for personal gain – meant that I could deal with the hunters as I saw fit, sparing the hunters an unnecessary death and granting my the protection I needed, but Hexer's coven was anxious, with good reason.

The hunters who were chasing me were well-known for their skill, and also for their close relationship with angels.

The hunters' names were Sam and Dean Winchester.

They had been following me for the past 3 weeks and, several close shaves and several memory charms later, they were still following, somehow unaffected by my spells.

Maybe my memory charms aren't as strong as they used to be, I dismissed the thought; I had been trained by Balthazar, the head of the council and the most powerful warlock in history, I had bound 130 dark witches and warlocks for 6 weeks before I had begun my training, and I had become a master in a quarter of the time it would take for an average witch.

But that made no difference now; my distinguished record couldn't shake the Winchesters off, and not even teleportation, a risk to even the most powerful of my kind, had failed to shake them off. It was generally accepted that once the Winchesters had your scent you were as good as dead already.

I, however, had no intentions of dying young.

I checked into a motel and performed all manner of powerful protection charms before crashing on the bed and allowing 3 nights' worth of sleep to take over.

I woke to a resounding snap as iron shackles were fastened around my wrists. There was a faint hiss, undetectable to humans, as the scent of burning flesh crept into my nostrils.

The scent of my burning flesh.

I tugged at the iron in a vain attempt to break free.

"No use," I glared at the short-haired man as he approached, "Consecrated iron; you're stuck until we decide to let you go."

"You could've at least had the decency to use steel," I growled, "Or silver; do you have any idea what iron does to my skin?"

"Sure we do," the man grinned, "It burns. Why d'you think we used it?"

"Maybe 'cause you're retarded?" I smirked, ignoring the irritation of the iron as it burned, "Iron burns, but only silver binds. Which means," I flexed my fingers slightly, "I can do this,"

The iron shackles crumbled to dust and I leapt up, giving my captor a swift punch in the face before throwing his ally across the room. He wouldn't be waking up for a while.

I ripped the motel door open and tore down the corridor, hitting the wall as I turned the corner –

- And crashed straight into a man in a long coat whose response was to place a hand on my temple.

Within seconds my eyes rolled back in my head and I collapsed, unconscious.

A throbbing headache and a strange dullness of my senses welcomed me into wakefulness in what appeared to be the back seat of a car. What ever it was that my head was resting on rose and fell with the same pattern as a sleeping human, but it was warm and comfortable, so I adjusted my position slightly and frowned at the light clink of metal. I looked at my wrist and sighed; silver handcuffs bound my wrist to a man's.

Wait – what?

I jumped and looked up to find myself staring at a long-haired young man, I recognised him as being the one I had thrown across the motel room. He seemed to be sleeping, but I couldn't be sure. It was as if my senses had been dulled; nothing was a bright or loud as it should have been, I couldn't smell as well as I had done before.

Oh sweet mother earth, I thought, I've gone human.

"Where are you taking me?" I demanded indignantly, "I haven't done anything wrong."

"You're a witch," the man in the long coat, who was sat in the passenger seat, replied as if it explained everything.

"Oh that's not at all rude is it?" I responded sarcastically, still with my head resting on the hunter's chest; the hunter in question chuckled.

"She has a point, Cas," he pointed out, opening his warm brown eyes in a way that somehow reminded me of a puppy, "From what we've figured out, She's only been stopping the things from hurting humans – what's her crime?"

"It's not what She's done recently, Sam," The man in the passenger seat, Cas, explained as he scowled over his shoulder at my, "It's something she did a few years ago."

"I moved to America?" I suggested, "I bound a few dark covens before I moved?"

"You helped a dark coven kill an angel."

"I did what?" the blank expression more or less proved my innocence according to the man to whom I was handcuffed, "That makes no sense at all."

The next thing I knew I was hand-cuff free and being pressed against a tree by the crazy angel.

"You think this is funny?" he practically snarled at me – I've never been scared of angels or demons before but that literally scared me witless.

"Um… funny ha-ha or funny peculiar?" I asked, attempting to bring back a sense of humour to the conversation, "Because something funny is definitely going on –"

"Anael is dead because of you!" he shouted – I was vaguely aware of a black car pulling over and the two hunters approaching – as I was whacked against the tree again, "And you just act like nothing has happened – you stole her pendant!"

"Dude," I was very thankful that my skin was a kind of coffee colour at this point, because I knew I'd have bruises in the morning, "I've had this pendant since I was nine. How could a nine year old steal a necklace from an angel?"

The angel growled and dug his nails into my arms so hard that I gasped from the pain.

"Cas," the driver shook the extremely angry angel and thankfully brought him to his senses, "let her go,"

Cas growled again.

"Cas, look at her for God's sake," the other hunter (who had the silver cuffs still attached to his wrist) insisted, pointing at my obviously terrified expression, "She doesn't know anything."

Cas eventually let me go and stormed back to the car – it took me a while to realise I was shaking.

"You ok?" I didn't bother to resist as they snapped the silver handcuff back onto my wrist.

"Whoa, he really scared you didn't he?" the driver chuckled when I didn't respond.

"Did," I replied, wondering why everything was swimming, "Does."

I pitched forward and blacked out, senseless again.

The whole town was on fire. People were screaming, picking up what little they could and fleeing from the men on black horses.

"Where is she?" a gruff man shouted, holding the young woman by her hair and gripping a wicked iron blade in his other hand.

"No," she begged, tears streaming down her face, "Please, no,"

The man smirked beneath his wide-brimmed hat and brought the knife sharply down upon the young woman.

"Mama!" a little girl came hurtling toward the man and splayed her hands wide, "Mama!"

The man's knife stopped just short of the woman's chest and shot into the back of his comrade.

"Leave her alone," the little girl shouted defiantly; the man chuckled.

"Found you." He reached toward her, letting go of her mother as he did so –

- and shrieked as his arm turned to dust.

He staggered back, away from the child and his arm reformed, untouched.

"Little wretch!" he pulled another knife from his holster; the little girl screamed.

Suddenly the man stopped, his eyes began to glow, he screamed as they burned.

Unseen arms swooped around the little girl and transported her, still screaming into a circle of men and women.

"Take this," a pendant found its way around the girl's neck, "When the time is right, my brother will come for you, and then it will all make sense,"

I jerked awake and stared widely around me; it was a motel room, in the late evening or early morning, I couldn't be sure.

"Morning,"

I jumped and found myself staring at the older of the two hunters.

"You slept well," he smirked.

"I collapsed in the middle of a field," I pointed out, "Not exactly sleeping is it?"

"Whatever," he shrugged, "Sammy and Cas are out at the minute,"

"Cas is short for Castiel isn't it?" It wasn't a question that needed answering.

"Yeah," the guy replied, pulling a can of beer from the fridge, "I'm Dean,"

"I guessed that," I had a killer headache so I wasn't trying to hide my snappishness, "Given that your brother's Sam."

"You've heard of us then?"

"You think?" I couldn't help but chuckle, "I'm not the average supernatural being who just kills without thinking – I don't kill, for one thing, and I research my trackers."

"Trackers?" Dean frowned.

"It's rare that a hunter will catch a witch or warlock," I explained, "regulations against killing innocents meant that we've been able to hide our existence since Salem."

"Since Salem?" Dean took a long sip of his beer and raised his eyebrows, "What about before then?"

"We were more accepted before the hysteria started,"

"So… you gonna tell me your name or what?"

"You've been hunting me all this time and you never bothered to search for my name?" I couldn't believe this guy.

"We were a little busy," Dean shrugged.

"Do you want my given name or my chosen one?"

"Both might help."

"Victoria Alice Longman," I replied, "And Vixen. Vix for short"

"In that order?"

"Yep"

There was an awkward silence; Dean drank some more beer.

"Can I ask a question?"

He put his beer on the counter, "sure, go ahead."

"Why's Cas so determined to get revenge for that angel?"

"She was a friend of his," Dean replied, "So he's kind of pissed that you killed her."

"I didn't kill anyone." I growled

"Sure you didn't," he didn't sound too much like he cared, "So why've you got her pendant?"

"Like I said earlier," I responded acidly, "I've had it since I was a kid."

I didn't like Dean Winchester.

"Cas seems to think otherwise,"

"Yeah well," I responded, "Castiel always was quick to assume –" I stopped, frowning; I'd never met Castiel before. Why did I know that?

Dean smirked; "so you know him?"

"I…" I scowled at my cuffed hands, "I don't know – I don't remember meeting him."

I was saved from more awkwardness by the aforementioned angel and Sam Winchester walking into the room.

Castiel rather brutally undid the handcuffs on my wrists and produced a solid silver bracelet.

"For me?" I asked with all the sweetness and sarcasm I could muster, "You shouldn't have, darling,"

The Winchesters snorted as Castiel snapped the bracelet onto my wrist.

"Don't think you're special," he grumbled, "This is to make sure that you're bound without drawing attention."

"Only an angel can remove it, I presume?" I was enjoying watching him squirm after he'd beaten me up yesterday.

"Yes," was all he said before storming off, "Dean,"

Dean shrugged and followed him.

"You ok?" Sam asked, "You were out cold for a while."

"Hey," I grinned, "I got attacked by a group of men, assaulted a psychotic angel and woke up handcuffed to a bed, what's to be not okay about?"

"Nice to see that you're still cheerful," Sam grinned, "Sam Winchester," he introduced himself.

"I know," I replied, shaking his hand, "Dean told me. I'm Vix."

"Vix?"

"Victoria Longman," I grimaced, "But most just call me Vix."

"You know you're only gonna make things worse," he pointed out, indicating the bracelet, "He's pissed enough already without you pushing buttons,"

"I happen to like pushing buttons," I smirked, "And after waking up in handcuffs 3 times in one day I think I've earned the right to wind him up."

"We've got a hunt," Dean announced, "corpses turning up all withered and old in Alabama,"

"Vix?" I must have had a pretty surprised (or annoyed) expression on my face to have earned the one word "are you okay?" line.

"I shut them down months ago." I growled, "How the hell are they still leeching?

"Who?" Cas demanded.

I looked Cas steadily in the eye.

"We're dealing with the drainers."

...