Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to the Supernatural universe or its characters. That honor goes to Warner Bros. and Wonderland Sound and Vision, along with Eric Kripke and associates. I also don't own any of the rights to the John Carpenter's Vampires universe or its characters. That honor goes to Sony Pictures and Largo Entertainment, along with Don Jakoby, John Carpenter, and author John Steakley. I am just borrowing the characters and their mythology for fun and not for profit.

Author's Note: This story has been in the works since the fourth season of Supernatural, when I discovered the show and fell in love with it. This story takes place as if it were in the fourth season, so none of season five and the current season six ideas are represented. Dean is back from Hell, Sam is struggling with his addiction and the powers he gets from it, and the brothers are still trying to stop Lilith from breaking the sixty-six seals. Castel and the other angels are part of the story as well. I decided to add in the idea that there are professional hunters out there that get paid to go after supernatural badies. I took the idea from the John Carpenter's Vampires movie based on the book of the same name. I'm using characters from that movie as well. My character of Jade, however, is my own. I hope people enjoy reading this story as much as I did in writing it. I've tried very hard to keep the boys and their friends in character and to be true to the world that Eric Kripke has created. Let me know what you think.

Many thanks to my beta reader dreadedfemale. She has been key in keeping this story true to form and moving at a good pace and with a good flow.

Rate T: For language and action violence.

Chapter 1

Mythical Mayhem

Sam dared another quick look at the hideous monster that was trying to kill him. At first, in her form as Ariel Hall with gorgeous and enticing golden locks of hair, long and sculpted legs, ample curves, full and thick lips, and shimmering, sky blue eyes, she had turned Sam's head a little; he had to admit that much. It was not surprising that she had turned Dean's head all the way around. She had also come off with enough intelligence and grace that Sam couldn't help but like her too. Ariel had started out being so helpful, knowledgeable, and even kind that Sam had almost fallen under spell like Dean had.

Now, however, the thing in front of him was no combination of a super model-librarian, in any way shape or form. She was a grotesque image of flashing reds eyes, slithering serpents instead of hair, long and sharp black claws, snake-like fangs dripping with saliva, a wildly protruding, forked tongue sticking out between said fangs, and her body was covered in hard, dark, scale-like skin. The only thing still a shade beautiful about her was her golden wings, like one would picture angel wings, soft and feathery.

Sam could also hear her large, reptile-like feet pounding on the ground as she searched for a way to get to him. He and his brother Dean were in the stables of a large and spacious ranch, just outside of the town of Stonehaven, Oregon. It had belonged to the mayor of the town, until Ariel had come in and set up shop. She had bespelled many of the men in the town, allowing her to take over and run it behind the scenes, collecting her trophies here and there, storing them on the ranch property.

"Don't just stand there, Sammy! Do something!" Dean Winchester shouted at his younger brother.

"Whatda think I'm doing, Dean? Sittin' on my ass!" Sam Winchester shot back as he dodged yet another attack from the monstrous creature in front of him. Trying to avoid the brazened claws and the serpent-like fangs was no easy task. "This would be easier if you were helping," he added as a jab at Dean.

Dean rolled his eyes at Sam, which was about the only other part of his body he could move at the moment, besides his lips, for he had been mostly turned to stone. The terrible Gorgon before them had imprisoned Dean thus, so she could make him part of her collect of human statues. The Gorgon wished to let Dean see everything he couldn't be a part of anymore, and she had wanted to hear his screams of torment at the prospect of being her possession forever.

"Well, I'm sorry, Mr.-Smarty-Pants-Little-Brother, but I thought it was looking upon a Gorgon's true form that turned you to stone, not lip-locking with one," Dean told him. "Besides, how was I supposed to know that the hottest chick in this podunk, backwoods, little town was our supernatural bad guy?"

Sam scoffed, trying to hide behind a large stable door as the Gorgon lashed out with several of the snakes that made up its hair. "Because once again, Dean, something else besides your brain was doing the thinking," Sam chided him in disgust and frustration. "Gorgons tend to like to pose as beautiful, young maidens. She should have been our first suspect, not our last. She was a little too perfect."

"Ha! You said our. That means that she had you going too, Sammy."

"Yessss, SSSammy. Don't you find me attractive anymore?"

"No actually, I don't, Ariel," Sam commented wryly to the she-beast.

"Me either. I'll second that," Dean threw his two cents in where he could.

"I'm hurt, Sammy, I truly am," her deep voice drummed.

"It's just Sam, by the way. Dean is the only one that gets away with calling me Sammy," he replied, having to set the creature straight. He hated the nickname with a passion, but he loved Dean, so he put up with it. Dean wouldn't be Dean if he was always trying to find a way to get a rise out Sam anyway.

Suddenly, four sets of fangs sliced their way through the stall door he was hiding behind; the Gorgon's snaked hair obviously the weapon of choice. Luckily, this particular stall didn't have a horse in it, so Sam was able to roll away from the door as it splintered and the fangs protruded out the other side. Sam had a feeling the venom in those things would make him a work of art, like Dean now was. With a pang, Sam sure hoped that killing the Gorgon would reverse her spell on his brother.

Sam came back up on his feet at the back of the stall, looking for a weapon of any kind. The Gorgon had managed to strip him of his shotgun and pistol. Not that they would have really done much good against such a beast; she was practically a demi-god, almost immortal, but not completely. They all had something that could kill them, if one knew what that was.

Sam had thought that he'd figured out how to stop the Gorgon, once they had unmasked her. He had done his researching homework, and according to legend, if she saw her own true self in reflection, she should turn to stone. But when Sam had flashed the little mirror he had hidden in his coat pocket at her, nothing had happened. She had backhanded him so hard that he'd flown across the stable into the stall door that was now pulverized from the snakes that were the Gorgon's hair. In the process he had dropped the little shaving mirror, shattering it into a million pieces.

Finding a large and long pitchfork in the far corner of the horse stall he was in, Sam attempted to defend himself, while working on plan B. He had to stay alive long enough to find her weakness and save Dean. As the Gorgon came at him again with many teeth and her razor sharp claws, Sam used the pitchfork to both block her strikes and repel her away from him. The snakes that where her hair, came at him from two different sides, slithering in to wrap around the pitchfork's handle, and then pulling it right out of his grip. Sam felt her claws scrape across his chest, cutting him deeply. Red blood bubbled out of his skin from four distinct tears, and he cried out in agony as he fell to his knees before her.

"Ready to die, Sam?" the creature bellowed at him.

"Hey, Medusa-lady!" Dean yelled, trying to get her attention. "Yeah, you having the really bad hair day."

"Maybe I sssshould ssssseal up that smart-asssss mouth of yourssss, my precioussssss," the Gorgon hissed.

Dean's eyes widened for a moment, and then he cracked, "At least then, I wouldn't have to taste your crap-flavored lips again, Sea Spawn."

The Gorgon roared at him, leaving Sam to collapse on the ground. She then came to stand within inches of Dean. He blinked, his only show of surprise and a touch of fear. "Maybe I should pound you into dust or break you into so many pieces that there is nothing left of you."

"I'm game if you are, bitch," Dean spat.

Suddenly, Sam came up behind the Gorgon with the pitchfork, thrusting it through her back and up into her chest. The Gorgon howled in pain, stumbling away, hacking and coughing up black blood, growling, and snarling. She pulled the weapon the rest of the way through her body, making horrible whining noises. Once it was out of her, she broke it in half over one of her knees as Sam and Dean watched the hole in her chest miraculously heal itself back up.

"You gotta do better than that, my boy," the monster said throatily, like it was chewing on gravel.

"You got any more bright ideas, Einstein?" Dean snapped at Sam.

Sam was drawing a complete blank, and it was killing him not to be able to figure something what to do. He gulped and weakly said, "Nothin's comin' to mind. I've tried everything Bobby suggested and the stuff the lore pointed out."

"Don't believe everything you read," the she-beast said in a mocking tone, a small smile curving around her fangs. "Now, Dean, you can watch your beloved brother die as you have to stand idly by, unable to do anything to stop it."

"You so much as touch my brother again, and I'll kill you!" Dean proclaimed.

"I'd like see that trick," the Gorgon said this in almost a purr; her snake hair hissing.

She turned back to Sam, ready to go after him for the last time, when the doors leading to the outside the stables banged open with a loud boom that echoed all around those inside. "You've had your fun with these little boys long enough, Ariel," a definitely female voice said from the now open door way. "Now it's my turn, you crusty, old hag."

Sam turned his attention to the sound of the voice, trying to see its owner. Dean acted like he wanted to as well, grunting in frustration when he couldn't. "Whatcha see, Sam?" he eagerly asked.

"Um— I'm— not sure," Sam answered haltingly. "Hold on."

"It's not like I'm goin' anywhere," Dean bit out.

As the Gorgon's concentration centered on the newcomer, Sam backed away from her and moved to get a better view of the front doors, wincing and clutching at the wounds on his chest. He started when he saw a petite, young woman with really dark hair that didn't quite make it down to her shoulders, wearing a long, black, leather coat standing there. Water was dripping off her, from the downpour of rain outside. Sam couldn't tell what color her eyes were because she was half hidden in shadow. He could tell that she had a long and rounded nose, high check bones, and an oval face with a strong looking chin.

"YOU!" the Gorgon raged at the small woman. "I lost you in the steppes of Russia. How did you track me here?"

"Ah—I don't think that would be too hard considering the human statue collection you have out back, dumb nut," Dean commented.

The hideous and terrible creature turned to face Dean again. "I've been very careful in how they've been gathered. Not taking too many at a time, hiding them among real pieces of art. Nothing should have flagged her attention."

"Well, obviously you weren't careful enough," Sam decided to say. "And like picking a town named Stonehaven wasn't a dead give away either," he added caustically.

"Stay out of this, Demon Seed," the dark-haired woman snapped at him.

That statement took Sam aback. He looked at Dean, who could only widen his eyes in disbelief and then confusion in response. Sam opened his mouth, paused, and then closed it again, not sure what to say. Somehow this stranger knew about his little demon blood exposure. That was not good.

"Are you here to insult my brother or help us?" Dean shouted out his question

"Shut up, Hell Boy. Nobody asked for your commentary," the leather-coated woman shushed him.

Crap, she knows about Dean's time in the pit too, Sam found himself thinking as he shared another "what the hell" look with Dean. Who is she?

"You failed to kill me last time, Interfector, this time will be no different," the Gorgon snarled and took to the air with a bleating of her golden wings.

That's Latin word for slayer, Sam thought, bewildered. Is she a fellow hunter or something? God, I hope so.

The dark-haired woman stepped further into the stables, and Sam got a good look at her eyes. They were the darkest brown he had ever seen, and her mouth was set in a grim smile. "Unlike, bitches like you, I learn from my mistakes, and never make the same ones twice."

With that said the woman opened her long, black, leather coat, grabbing two lengthy gages of what looked like to Sam to be metal chains. She whipped them out and started swinging them around in the air, faster and faster, like one would a lasso. Then she flung one chain from her left hand and the other from her right hand. Expertly, they caught the Gorgon's upper and lower body, one wrapping around her upper arms and the other around her legs. Water that had collect on the newcomer's clothing and hair sprayed every which way. Sam felt drops splatter all over him.

The creature roared again, straining against her bonds, but stunningly, the small woman held the she-beast, pulling the Gorgon toward the ground, making her lose altitude. Sam realized the dark-haired woman was wearing nice and tight, black leather gloves, giving her a better grip on the chains, and they helped in keeping the chains from ripping into the bare skin of her hands. This woman was very prepared; she appeared to know what she was doing. The whole thing made Sam wonder, but he was also extremely thankful that help had arrived. Small puddles of water were forming in each place the dark-haired woman stepped from the pools of rain her clothing and hair had collected. She wore black combat boots on her feet.

"Get over here, Demon Seed, I need your assistance!" the woman barked at him. "I can't hold this bitch forever. You'll have to kill her."

Sam's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. He looked askance at the dark-haired stranger. "How?"

"Grab the sword from the sheath in the back of my coat. Then cut off her head," the woman commanded through clenched teeth, shifting the weight of the struggling monster from side to side, like one would fly a kite.

"That'll kill it?" Sam asked, shocked at the simplicity of it all. He had another question pop into his mind. "How are those chains holding that thing?"

The woman glared at him, clearly angry and frustrated that he was asking questions and not moving into action. Her face was all hard lines as she spoke. "I'll explain the trick after its dead. Now move it, Winchester!" she demanded curtly.

"You can't kill me, Protectoris!" the Gorgon bellowed, vigorously trying to free itself. "I'll turn you all to stone and pound you into oblivion." The she-beast managed to fly upward again, causing the dark-haired woman's combat booted- feet to slide along the stable floor. She turned her heels outward, helping to halt the movement.

Another Latin word. This one for guardian, Sam thought, making him pause.

"Get the damn sword!" the woman growled at Sam. "Hurry!"

Finally, Sam was spurred into action, closing the distance between he and the strange woman quickly. He reached out and his hand brushed a sword handle sheathed in a special holder sewed into the back of her coat. The weapon slid out easily.

"Sweet," Dean commented with a smile in his voice. "Go for it, Sammy. Behead the bitch."

Sam took a quick breath and held it as he turned back toward the ensnared Gorgon. It was thrashing violently, and the dark-haired woman was straining to bring it lower to the ground. She was almost being pulled right off her feet, but she valiantly redoubled her efforts, winding the chains around her wrists, trying to tighten the slack. The tug-of-war going on between the two females was amazing; each was grunting and pulling for all they were worth. The small woman yanked with all her might, going into a squatting position to bring the monster even lower to the ground and to give herself more leverage to keep the creature held there.

As the creature grew nearer to the ground, Sam rushed forward with the short sword in both hands. He brought it back like one would swing a baseball bat, all the way up behind his head and shoulder. The Gorgon roared at him and fought ferociously against the chains that bound her, but Sam ignored that and the ominous hissing of the Gorgon's snakes-for-hair as he aimed for its neck. Ducking five of the snakes as they shot at him, having to go low, then high, then low again, then left, and then right. With the unblinding determination his father had taught him, Sam sliced the blade clean through the Gorgon's neck, tearing through tissue, muscle, and bone. In mere seconds the she-beast's howling and snarling stopped, and its head slid from is perch to drop to the floor with a sickening slop. The body followed soon after with a heavy thud. In the next instant, both the head and body turned to stone; the creature was history.

"Woohoo!" Dean shouted from his imprisoned position. "Way to score a homerun, Sammy!"

The dark-haired woman had moved back, dropping the chains, panting from all her exertions. She stumbled a bit as she found a stall to lean against. Her hair was a wet, messy mass around her face. Sam figured holding the monster like she did, must have taken a lot out of her. Hell, it would have taken a lot of him and he was probably twice her size.

Sam looked at the sword in his hand for a moment, suddenly remembering he had it. He decided it was very cool. The sword reminded him of a Roman short sword with a large, flat blade that was about elbow-to-wrist in length. It gleamed a polished-silver in the low illumination of the stables; at least the parts that weren't covered in black Gorgon blood. Where in the hell would she get something like this? he found himself wondering. Then he turned his attention back to the mystery woman in question.

"Thanks for saving our asses," he managed to say to her, still trying to recover from decapitating the Gorgon. He was breathing heavily and his arms ached from the force he had used. He glanced back at Dean, who to Sam's worry, was still set in stone. "Is he gonna be all right?" he then asked of the dark-haired woman.

She looked up at him, sliding down the stall door to the ground with labored breath. "It takes time for the spell to break, but it will."

"How long?" Dean wanted to know.

"A few hours," she told him, looking his way, briefly.

"Crap," Dean hissed. "You mean I'm gonna be stuck like this for a while?"

The strange woman smirked at him before saying, "I'm afraid so, Hell Boy. You're just lucky the Gorgon liked you enough not to suffocate you. Most of the others won't be so fortunate," she added on a more sour note.

"Great," he growled in complete frustration, his eyes growing hard.

"That's what you get for sticking your tongue where it doesn't belong," the woman chided him, her smirk coming back.

"Oh for the love of —," Dean cried out, but Sam cut him off.

"She's right, Dean," Sam told him, trying not to laugh. It serves you right, Dean, he thought to himself.

"Hahaha," Dean said in irritation. "Laugh it up, Demon Seed."

"Hey!" Sam shot back, equally upset, giving Dean a menacing glare, not liking that nickname one little bit.

"I can sure tell you two are related," the woman commented wryly, amused by the predicament.

"Who asked you?" Dean demanded of her. "Who the hell are you lady, and how did you know how to kill that slimly-assed bitch?"

"My, my, my, such lovely talk about the woman who you were so eager to snog a short while ago," the petite woman said. "The name's Jade Crow by the way," she added.

The more Sam listened to her talk, he thought he could pick on traces of some kind of European accent. It wasn't exactly British, but it something like that. Her speech sounded like it had hints of Italian in it too. At the word "snog", Dean looked at Sam, clearly not understanding its meaning. Sam decided to ignore the look for the moment, just to torment Dean a little; he didn't get to do it very often, and Dean was always doing it to him.

Suddenly, the running footfalls of someone coming up the drive to the stables could be heard. Then there was a sliding and scuffling sound, as if someone was skidding to a halt. Sam saw an average-sized man appear in the open door way carrying what looked like a first aid kit and holding an umbrella. He was dressed in dark clothing; a black, long-sleeved shirt and black pants. "I missed it. Oh damn, I missed it again didn't I?" the man berated himself as he stepped into the stable and collapsed the umbrella.

Jade shook her head in even more amusement and had to stifle her laughter. "Yeah, Padre, you missed all the fun, again." Dean mouthed the word "padre?" to Sam, who just shrugged his shoulders as lost as Dean was.

"Well, it looks like you were successful despite my tardiness," the padre said. "But then, you always succeed in slaying your mark. You are very much like your father in that way, J.C.," he added.

As the priest spoke, Sam was looking him over. The man had to be in his late forties to early fifties, his hair was a little long for a priest's and it was a stringy brown with a few streaks of gray showing through. He wore glasses that fit his face well, giving him a very scholarly look. He had oval face with bright blue eyes. His eyebrows were thin, his nose thick and large, and he had a full beard with more streaks of gray in it. Sam noticed that the white priest collar was missing from the man's attire; he thought that was strange.

When Sam and Dean just looked at the two of them dubiously and anxiously, the padre took note of it. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I'm Father Adam Guiteau, and I see you've meet my partner, Jade Crow. Are you two all right?"

"Not yet," Dean called out, still pissed to be stuck in stone.

"Don't worry, son, you'll be fine in a few hours," Guiteau assured him, and then he turned his attention toward Sam. "How about you? I should probably take a look at those cuts. You don't want to lose anymore blood, and you don't want to risk an infection." The padre walked over to Sam, opening up the first aid kit as he did. "Do you need any medical attention, J.C.?" he then asked of the dark-haired woman.

Jade had found a large bucket that she turned over and had plunked herself down on, leaning her back against the stall door. Sam caught flashes of blue jeans and a black T-shirt under her long, black leather coat. "Nope," was all she said in answer to Guiteau's question.

"You gonna tell us how you knew how to kill that Greek mythology reject?" Sam queried, dying to know what he and Bobby had missed. His mind was reeling with many other questions too. Who is this woman, really? Why is she working with a priest? Where is she getting all of her information from? Where had all of nifty weapons come from? Is she a hunter, a supernatural slayer like me and Dean? Who trained her, cause its apparent she knows what she's doing?

At first Sam didn't think Jade was going to respond to him, for she shook her head vigorously, trying to get as much of the wetness of out it as possible and running her glove-covered hands through it. After that, she played with it until it was out of her eyes and face. Finally, she looked over at Sam, as Guiteau examined his wounds. She seemed to be appraising him, looking him over, evaluating him. She stared at him for a long time before she spoke.

"The chains and sword were dipped in the River Styx," she said matter-of-factly. "Its waters are the only think that will weaken and kill a Gorgon."

Sam visibly balked at her explanation, not believing her story for an instant. "The River Styx is a mythical river. It doesn't truly exist. It's made up," he said angrily.

"You wanted to know how to kill a Gorgon. I told you. I don't care if you believe me or not, Demon Seed," she huffed at him. It was obvious that she did care that he didn't believe her, however.

"Stop calling me that!" Sam exclaimed, pulling away from the padre, very angry now. He had had it with all of this. "You don't know anything about me lady!"

"I'm not the one with demon blood pumping through my body, now am I?" she shot back. "I'm not the freak of nature that you are. I'm not an unnatural thing like you are."

Sam was shaking, his temper boiling over, ready to explode out of him. "I didn't ask for any of it, you know. I am not a freak!" he yelled, his fists balling up at his sides.

"Jade, stop it," Guiteau admonished her forcefully. "There is no reason to be so rude. We're all on the same side. These boys do a lot of good and you know it. Behave yourself." He then turned back to Sam, trying to calm him down. He spoke in a soft and soothing voice. "You're right, Mr. Winchester, there really isn't a River Styx. There is, however, a real river that runs through Italy that is the basis for the mythical one. It is called Alpheus, and it literally runs partially underground and under the seabed. Hence, the idea that it's a portal or doorway where Earth and the Underworld meet. Because of the way it flows, there are special mineral deposits within the water. Those mineral deposits are useful against many a supernatural being, especially Gorgons."

As Sam took in all the padre was saying he felt his anger fade a little. What the priest was saying made total sense and was much more informative and plausible than they way Jade had explained it. "Okay, I'll buy that," he acceded, "but why couldn't she just have explained it that way?"

"Because, Mr. Winchester, Jade likes to be a pain in the ass, just like her father was," Guiteau told him, glaring at Jade, who scoffed and looked away. "She just can't be nice."

"Well, she better start trying," Dean's voice was full of menace, "or else she'll end up drinkin' her meals through a straw."

Jade looked over at Dean and smiled a contemptuous and condescending smile. "Whatcha you gonna do, Hell Boy, stare me to death?"

"Oh, you'll find out, Twisted Sister, as soon as this damn spell wears off," Dean gruffly told her with a dark look in his eyes.

"Enough! All of you!" Guiteau shouted, apparently the only adult among them at the moment. "We should all be grateful to still be alive. We should think of each other as allies, not rivals."

Sam's eyes got the same dark look in them that Dean had in his. "Then why don't you enlighten us, Father? You seem to know so much about us, and yet we don't know a thing about either of you. How does a hunter hook up with a priest? Who are you?"

Guiteau sigh heavily, running a hand over his face, shifting his glasses back and forth. He motioned for Sam to come back so he could finish cleaning and bandaging him up. "Sit down for a minute, and I'll tell you what you want to know."

"Not a good idea, Padre," Jade growled.

"Then go and report me, J.C.," Guiteau said exasperated. "This day has been coming for a long time. They need to know about us. They need to know that they are not fighting the good fight alone."

"Whatever," Jade spat. "I'm outta here. You can make nice with the amateur, douche bags; I'll be in my jeep." With that she got up off her bucket seat and walked briskly out of the stables; stormed was more like it, her boots clumping as she went. She slammed one of the doors on her way out as well.

"I must apologize for my partner's lack of manners," Guiteau said sorrowfully. "She really is a good girl, but she tries much too hard to be just like her father. He was an ass and a half, but you couldn't help but like the son of a bitch."

Sam blinked slowly and widened his eyes at the priest's language; it seemed out of character for a man of that kind of deep faith. Then he spoke to get Guiteau back on track. "What do you mean that we aren't 'fighting the good fight alone'?"

"You two are trying to stop the demon Lilith from breaking the sixty-six seals and freeing Lucifer from Hell, correct? Working to prevent the Apocalypse?" Guiteau answered Sam's question with some of his own. "We'll so are we."

"And who exactly is 'we'?" Dean asked impatiently.

"The Vaticanum Protectoris," Guiteau said with a little flourish.

Sam blanched at the Latin name, translating it instantly to English. "Vatican Guardians?" he said, the disbelief thick in his voice. "As in the Vatican in Rome? As in the Catholic Church?"

"Yes, my son, the one and the same," Guiteau said with a touch of pride.

TBC…

You guys have gotta let me know what you think. Was this any good? What did you like? What didn't you like? Did it grab your attention? I crave feedback, so please leave me a short review. Thanks!