In northern Indiana, there's a place where two dirt roads cross. It's insignificant, just like the hundreds of other crossroads that litter the state, but at the moment, it's a glowing beacon. Not to the humans around it, but to the red-eyed demons scouring the earth for deals to make and souls to reap.

I'm the one who lit the beacon. By burying a small box in the center of the crossroads, filled with my ID and an assortment of small items that were easy to find. It seems strange that so much can hinge on such a small thing. This one box is the start of something that will cost me my soul.

It doesn't take long before the demon shows up. She's the epitome of sexy: silky black hair draped over her shoulder, a short (tight) black dress, high lace-up boots. If I'd seen her at a bar, if the situation were different, I'd probably try hitting on her.

But it's not, so I don't.

"Well, what do we have here?" the demon asks. Her smooth voice is as alluring as her appearance.

"I want to make a deal," I say flatly, trying to seem uninterested in the attractiveness of the demon before me.

She rolls her eyes. "Typical. Always straight to the point. Okay, give me a name and I'll give you a deal."

"Eva," I say through gritted teeth, starting to get impatient. I was hesitant to even leave Sam behind and come out here, and it's making me uneasy that it's taking so long already.

"Alright, Eva," the demon says, sauntering slowly towards me. "What can I do for you?"

"I need you to save Sam Winchester."

The demon's eyes light up mischievously. "A Winchester! Always making deals. You guys are hell's best customers, you know that?"

I ignore her jab, even though it's true. "He's been having hallucinations ever since the wall between him and his memories of the pit broke, and it's… it's gotten worse. He hasn't slept in days. He's not going to make it much longer if he doesn't get help, and soon."

The demon cocks her head and smiles. "I'm sure I can take care of that. And you know the price?"

I nod. In my line of business, it's not really something you can't know. "My soul. In ten years."

The demon laughs. "Ten years? Oh, no, honey, for a friend of the Winchesters, we're going to expect payment much sooner. Say… a month?"

My stomach drops. I'd expected a negotiation, but this is ridiculous. Most people got ten years. Even Dean had gotten one. But a month? What the hell am I supposed to do with a month? "A year," I say quietly. "Just give me a year."

"One month or no deal," the demon says, the corner of her mouth curling up almost in a mocking cruelty.

I hesitate. We can find some other way to cure Sam, to piece back together his broken mind…

But there's no time, part of me says. How long could a human survive without sleep before their exhausted system starts shutting down? And if that doesn't kill him, it would be something else. At some point, he'd kill himself if he got the chance. Lucifer—the image of him, anyway—is driving Sam completely out of his mind.

"Fine," I spit out, trying to sound brave despite the fact that I'm terrified. One month. I have one month. "A month. You have a deal."

"Great," says the demon cheerfully, as if she wasn't signing a deal to send a soul to eternal torment.

She leisurely closes the remaining distance between us before pressing her lips to mine. I remain as still as possible, unwilling to give this demon any pleasure from the process of sealing a deal.

She steps back with a disappointed look on her face. "You'd be such a great kisser if you didn't resist so much," she says, shaking her head. After a moment, she adds, "That's it then. One month in return for the restoration of your boyfriend's mind."

"He's not—" I start to say, but she's already gone.