Supernatural: The Alpha's Daughter
Chapter One
"Where is it?!" screamed the King of Hell, incandescent with rage.
The Alpha Ghoul he was interrogating simply laughed, blood bubbling in his chest and distorting the sound. "You'll never find it,' he whispered, voice hoarse from hours of screaming.
"And why's that?" Crowley demanded, cold and sharp as a razor blade.
"Only the Alphas know the entrance to Purgatory – and none of us will ever break. You have nothing we want, nothing to use against us... Nothing." The Alpha Ghoul spat blood and bile and teeth into Crowley's face.
Unblinking, Crowley grasped either side of the ghoul's head viciously. "I'll find something," He promised darkly. "One of you must have something you love enough to bargain for..." Squeezing the ghoul's head in a vice like grip, Crowley slowly closed his hands into fists, relishing the creature's desperate howls as he crushed its skull and mashed the ghoul's brain between his strong fingers.
Wiping his hands and face, Crowley turned to his nearby lackey, hovering in the doorway. "What else have you got for me?" he growled.
The demon cleared her throat nervously, fingers flying over the surface of her tablet computer. "Erm... we have an Alpha Wraith, or an Alpha Siren... and that's all. I'm afraid we're running low, sir."
"What do you mean 'running low'? Go out and fetch me some more!"
"We're... We're having trouble locating anymore, sir. Word is spreading... The Alphas are going into hiding." The demon took a step back as Crowley advanced, furious.
"We have all the resources of Hell at our disposal," he said, his voice soft and dangerous. "Use your initiative and smoke one out, or you'll be my next toy to play with..."
The demon gulped, black eyes wide behind her glasses. "Well, we do have one lead, sir..." She paused, whimpering.
"Yes?" asked Crowley, non-existing patience worn to a thread.
"It's – it's not an Alpha, sir..."
She was cut off, thrown against the door by an invisible force.
"Then stop wasting my bloody time!" shrieked Crowley.
The demon struggled, spitting the words out through her teeth.
"It's an Alpha's daughter."
ooo
Crowley lounged at the bar, savouring his favourite scotch. His eyes scanned the crowd, searching for his target among the mess of spinning bodies, head throbbing at the heavy bass line of the music. He made a mental note to invent a new, special, corner of Hell for the people who frequented these kind of places. Abruptly, his attention was drawn to the balcony above the dance floor, where a mousy blonde and a fake redhead were leaning against the railing, deep in conversation.
"Auditio," whispered Crowley, sprinkling dried colocasia plant in the air in front of him, and blowing the pieces of herb in their direction.
"Seen anyone that strikes your fancy?" the redhead asked.
"Not yet," answered the blonde, eyes scanning the dance floor, tilting her head and wrinkling her nose as her eyes locked with Crowley's.
"What about dark and brooding at the bar?" the redhead asked pointedly.
The blonde flushed, embarrassed to be caught staring. "Use your nose, Vi, he's a demon."
"Don't know how you can tell over the scent of all these hot, young honeys pulsing away..."
Crowley raised his glass in a wordless salute, inclining his head in a clear invitation to join him.
"Well, dark and brooding wants to talk to you, demon or not. Go and find out what he wants," Vi instructed, plainly intrigued. "He might be able to tell you why you've had demons following you home for the last four nights, and what they want with your father..."
"And if he can't?" asked the blonde, eyes never leaving Crowley's.
"Get rid of him the same way you got rid of the others," her friend suggested, darkly.
Lips curling in a crooked smile, Crowley watched the blonde make her way slowly through the throng, floating down the spiral staircase and sauntering across the remaining space between them. Without uttering a word, she slipped onto the stool next to him, crossed her legs and leaned back against the bar. Her pale green eyes looked him up and down piercingly, as if cataloguing everything she saw. Pursing her lips, she raised an eyebrow, an unspoken question in her eyes.
"See something you like, darling?" he asked languidly.
"What do you want, demon?" she snarled, lips drawn back from her teeth.
Crowley sipped his drink, deliberately taking his time. "Straight to the point, aren't we love?" he drawled. A deep, guttural growl was his only answer. "Kinky," he commented, raising an eyebrow. "What makes you think I want anything other than to get to know your gorgeous self?" he asked, dark brown eyes roaming over her body, lingering on the long lines of her exposed thighs.
"Tell the truth, demon. I can smell when you lie," was the clipped reply.
Crowley leaned forward, eyes running up her body, starting with her toes, up her long lithe legs, past her scandalously short hemline, gliding over the curves of her hips and chest and onto the warm skin of her neck and face. "Then you know the gorgeous part wasn't a lie," he murmured.
She glared at him, pushing away from the bar and turning to leave, muttering "Time-waster."
"I'm looking for your father," he remarked casually.
Her head snapped back round, glaring at him. "You're not the first," she said, her voice level and controlled. "Do you know what happened to the other demons who came looking for my father?" she asked, threat clear in her tone.
Crowley smiled. "Yes," he said, knocking back the last of his scotch. "I sent them."
As Crowley set the glass back on the counter, her hand grabbed his wrist, claws sliding swiftly from her nails. Crowley glanced at her claws, then looked back up at her face and sighed. "Oh calm down sweetheart. I don't want to hurt him, not if he co-operates."
"And if he doesn't?" the blonde asked softly.
Crowley slipped rapidly out of her hold, gripping her wrist and pulling her close to him. "Well, we'll just have to see what happens..." He clicked the fingers of his free hand, and the bartender appeared with a second scotch and a cosmopolitan. She stared at the drink for an instant, momentarily distracted.
"I didn't order anything to drink," she began, suspiciously.
"I know. I ordered it for you," said Crowley, reaching for his scotch and passing the cosmo to her. As she hesitated, he continued, irritated. "Oh relax, it's perfectly fine. You'd be able to smell if I'd tampered with it, anyway."
The blonde reached for the glass, pulling it to her and sniffing it cautiously. A moment later, satisfied, she raised the glass to her lips, drinking in silence as she glared at Crowley. The King of Hell raised his glass in another silent toast before downing his drink. "Now as much as I'd love to stay here convincing you all night, I have important business to attend to. I'm afraid I'm going to have to love you and leave you."
Grasping her hand gently this time, Crowley raised her fingers to his lips, his eyes never leaving hers. Brushing a quick caress to her hand, he winked flirtatiously and he was gone.
Leaping into the vacated chair, Vi grabbed her friend's arm and squealed, "Who the hell was that?!"
ooo
Back in his dungeon, Crowley leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chin softly with his fingers, a satisfied smirk stretching his lips. This was going to be fun.
A/N Wow! I think I need a cold shower ;) But then Crowley and 'The Voice' always turn me on :)
I hope you enjoyed it – Crowley is my favourite character, and I think there should always be more of him! This fic is to fill in some of the gaps of what our favourite demon gets up to when he's not centre stage in Supernatural.
Set in Season 6 during his search for Purgatory – may extend to Season 7 and 8 if I get enough ideas. There will be a couple of OCs e.g. monsters and demons, but most of the action will centre on The King of Sex.
'Auditio' is Latin for listen, and colocasia is the Latin name for the Elephant's Ear plant (I was trying to make up a listening spell!)
Read and Review – whether you loved it, hated it, or read it aloud to yourself in Crowley's sexy as hell voice!