Chapter One
Erin Wesson stumbled into her hotel room and shut the door behind her. She trudged into the bathroom and flicked on the light before falling into a seat on the floor. She winced as she pulled a first aid kit off of the counter. Its contents spilled onto the ground.
"Fuck, good enough" she said.
She pulled her long brown hair into a ponytail and lifted up her sleeve to examine the worst of her wounds. A deep gash ran across her arm under her shoulder. It was worse than she had thought. No questions about it, it was going to need to be stitched up. She sifted through the items on the floor.
"Great, no alcohol swabs left." Erin sighed and leaned back against the wall. This day was a complete cluster fuck. This should have been an easy job – just a simple vengeful spirit case. Burn the bones and off she would go. All the guy had to do was stay inside the circle of salt until she lit up the remains buried in his basement.
She closed her eyes and thought back to the old house.
"Look, lady, I don't know what the hell is going on here but some fucking salt isn't gonna stop it. That damn thing almost killed me. You're fucking crazy if you think I'm staying in this kitchen" said a burly man with a thick beard.
"You want to stay alive?" Erin asked as she grabbed container of salt. "Then stay inside the damn circle. Trust me. This crazy shit is what I do."
The kitchen table began to rattle, and the lights flickered on and off. The room turned cold. The man's face turned pale and his eyes darted around the room.
"Stay!" Erin yelled and headed down the stairs.
But of course he didn't stay in the circle. They never stay in the circle. He tried to run before she even made it down the stairs. And for saving his ass all Erin got was a body covered in bruises, and kitchen knife to the shoulder, courtesy of that ghost. At least it was torched now.
Erin opened her green eyes and they fell on a bottle of whiskey next to the bathtub. She took it and held it up in a toast.
"To hunter's helper," she said before taking a swig.
"In more ways than one." She splashed it on her wound and hissed.
After stitching herself up she picked up her phone and lay on the bed.
"Hey, Bobby!" she said cheerfully. "Thanks for that job by the way. I just had a grand time stitching my arm up in the bathroom."
"Hey, kid, that's the job ain't it?" he said followed by a laugh.
"Yeah, yeah. Don't go enjoying it too much. I just wanted to let you know it was taken care of. Unless you've got anything dire I might be out of commission for a few days though. That knife barely missed my shoulder joint, but the wound is pretty damn deep. I'd rather not go tearing it open again."
"Well, damn, kid. You're only a few hours away. Why dontcha come down here. I got some guys helping me with some research and I could use a hand."
"Sure. It beats hanging around in this shitty motel. What kind of research are we talking about, Bobby?" Erin began to collect her clothes from around the room and shoving them in a bag. "I can leave tonight."
"I'll fill you in when you get here," he said.
"See you soon, Bobby." Erin hung up the phone. She slowly forced a jacket onto her injured arm and grabbed her bag. She stuffed a flask of holy water into her jacket pocked and put a holster with a large knife in it on her hip. She picked up her keys up off the nightstand and headed into the night.