Hunting the Hunters

by TheTwinWhoLived

When things get difficult for three sister hunters, they call on the Winchesters for help.

Tamara finally stopped running. She had a good lead on the demon. Already she was a mile from the bar where the demon had tracked her. She still couldn't figure out how he freed himself from the devil's trap. Maybe the painted image was damaged and she just didn't noticed. Demons were supposed to be powerless inside those traps, so how the hell did he escape? She hadn't had time to figure it out. She had to run. He had taken her knife from her and almost used it against her. The weapon narrowly missed her head when she ran. She hated running. She was the hunter, after all. She wanted to smite every son-of-a-bitch she found. It was demons who had killed her husband a few years ago. They all deserved to pay; they all earned one way tickets to Hell.

Her hotel was in sight when she brought out her phone from her jean pocket and scrolled her contact list for a hunter she knew was the closest.

As Bobby sat at his book-cluttered desk and flushed down the last bit of whiskey in his glass, the phone rang.

He cleared his throat as he picked it up. "Hello?"

"Bobby!"

He knew that British voice. "Tamara?"

Dean and Sam looked up from their research at the sound of their fellow hunter's name. This raised red flags. They hadn't heard from Tamara in years.

"I need some help," she spoke quickly but quietly. "This demon is bad ass and I can't shake him. I can't get a weapon near him and my devil's trap didn't hold him."

"Where are you?"

"Norfolk, Nebraska."

"Where are you staying?"

"Motel super 8 Norfolk, room 4."

"The boys are coming right now."

The phone went dead. Tamara didn't say good-bye. Bobby couldn't tell what was going on, all he knew was she needed help.

He hung up his phone and looked up at Dean and Sam who were now standing and waiting on pins and needles for Bobby to give them the low down.

"Is Tamara okay?" asked Sam.

"She's in trouble. A demon in Norfolk, Nebraska escaped her trap. She's staying at the Super 8 Norfolk motel, room 4."

"Norfolk's less than three hours away," said Dean as he put on his coat. He fished his keys off Bobby's desk. "Let's go, Sammy."

"Be careful, boys." He knew they would be careful, but he still had to say it. He didn't want them calling him because of trouble they couldn't escape.

After a quicker-than-usual drive and finding Tamara's room, Sam started picking the lock. The motel was similar to many the Winchesters had stayed in themselves and the lock would have been easy to trick open except the door was already unlocked. Sam quickly noticed this and opened the door cautiously. At first they heard the clanking of the broken chain used to latch the door and then they beheld a horrific sight that gave horror films a run for their money. Tamara's body lay on the floor semi-sitting position next to the double bed, but her gun was on the other side of the room. Her body itself was the worst part. It was mutilated. Her midsection was soaked in blood from cuts crisscrossed across her abdomen and neck areas. One of her ankles was broken, which was evident by the unnatural angle of her foot, but none of those findings were the worst. A knife protruded from her left eye and her face was locked in a terrified expression.

She had gone down fighting as evidence from the things thrown everywhere and the shattered mirror. There was no devil's trap as Bobby said she had mentioned during the phone call. She must have tried trapping the demon elsewhere then ran back here when the trap failed.

The brothers knelt near her corpse. It was never easy seeing a fallen hunter. They had already known too many hunters who had already passed: Jo, Ellen, Ash, Rufus, Gwen, Deanna, Samuel, even their own father and mother. Neither checked for a pulse because there was no way she was still alive.

"She hasn't been gone long," Sam observed. He didn't comment further; they both knew she was killed while they were driving. They hadn't gotten there fast enough.

Sam closed her one good eye. Dean took hold of the knife handle, but hesitated. It wasn't exactly comforting pulling a knife out of someone's eye. He held his breath then yanked. He hated doing it. Even though she was dead and couldn't feel the pain it still felt dishonorable, like he was purposefully trying to defile her corpse more. Dean examined the knife. It wasn't from the motel kitchenette, nor did it match anything they kept in the Impala's trunk. The handle was hand-carved with a symbol chiseled into the wood. Dean didn't recognize the symbol, but hoped it would lead them to Tamara's killer.

"Hey, what do you think this symbol means?" he asked Sam, who was pulling the sheet from the bed. He folded the sheet sloppily under one arm then squatted by his brother.

He took the knife from Dean and scrutinized the symbol intensely. "Witchcraft, I think, maybe a coven symbol."

"Awesome," Dean commented sarcastically, "Creepy witches killing hunters."

They wrapped up Tamara's body and put her in the back seat of the Impala. They were lucky full-on darkness had developed outside, because darkness helped conceal the touchy task of getting Tamara's body in the backseat. Dean acted as lookout while Sam slid her body inside and shut the door. They put their coats on top of her so her body wouldn't look so human shaped.

Uncharacteristically, Dean went the speed limit all the way back to Bobby's. If they got pulled over and the cop saw a corpse in the backseat they would be screwed. Of course, this wasn't the first time they had transported a body. They had taken Adam's body from the crypt and gave him a hunter's funeral elsewhere. Truthfully, it was astonishing how much they had avoided the authorities. They had taken SWAT uniforms when escaping the bank where Ronald and a shape shifter had died. Also, because of a shape shifter, the police had thought Dean was a murderer. They had even buried the shape shifter's body thinking it was Dean's. If they could get themselves out of those tight situations, then they could take their friend from a murder scene and give her a hunter's funeral without any interference.

Hours later, Bobby, Sam, and Dean stood side by side watching the flames dancing in the darkness as Tamara's body burned. They had burned or buried many loved ones and friends over the years, but that didn't make this burning any easier. The loss of any hunter was always substantial. Even if they didn't know Tamara that well, her death still meant that evil had scored a point.

The three hunters researched into the wee hours of the morning. After fruitlessly searching through books, Bobby finally found what the symbol on the dagger resembled. It was an English family crest from the Blackthornes, a family of witches in the Dark Ages. The family had flourished from the 13th to the 16th centuries, surviving the Plague, the Crusades, the Hundred Year's War, and the War of the Roses. When the Salem Witch Trials came along in the 1690's a few were burned at the stake, but not all.

"I guess at least one Blackthorne is still alive," Bobby commented. "We've got a witch carrying out their own vendetta, killing hunters. But I don't get it. The Blackthornes have a history of being local healers. The biggest thing they did was run apothecaries. How the hell does cooking up remedies and potions turn into murder?"

"I don't care," Dean added. "Let's find this Blackthorne son-of-a-bitch and kill him."

"Maybe there's a summoning spell that can help. I'll keep diggin'." Bobby took another gulp of his whiskey and turned the page in the book he presently had resting in his lap.

Sam put his book down, feeling frustrated. He wanted to keep researching because he knew they had to find this witch before another hunter died, but exhaustion was encroaching and starting to hinder his ability to study. He rubbed his eyes and yawned, feeling like the later it got the less his brain worked.

"Maybe you should get some rest," Dean suggested.

Sam knew his brother meant well, but his mothering annoyed him. "Dean, I don't need you to tuck me into bed. I'll go to sleep when we're all ready."

"Don't be a bitch. I was just saying you looked tired."

Neither brother meant to sound so snappy. They were all getting cranky. The brothers had driven three hours to Norfolk and three hours back, burned Tamara's body, then spent hours researching. Sunrise wasn't far away. They managed to research for another half hour before temporarily giving up and turning in for a few hours of rest.

Sam was woken abruptly. One moment he was lying on his stomach upon an old mattress Bobby had stashed away—dreaming about werewolves in which Madison transformed into a hairy monster resembling a retched beast from an old horror movie—when he was woken by the feeling of ruff hands seizing him. He couldn't flip over because the demons already had him pinned and were looping a rope around his wrists. They forced him to his feet before his mind registered what was happening as reality and not dream. A third man stood calmly in the wide threshold between the kitchen and Bobby's study. Dean was just inside the study sleeping on the couch.

"Dean!" Sam yelled, hoping to wake his brother.

He heard no response, not even a sound from Bobby's room. The man in the threshold gave him a lazy glance, showing he wasn't worried that Dean would awaken. Something about that demon struck Sam as different. Something about his stare was alluring. He struggled to free himself from the two demons that had firm grips on his arms. Unexpectedly, all the fight leaked out of him and he couldn't fathom why. His abductors easily forced him out of the kitchen and through the front door. What was wrong with him? It was like he had no fight left, no desire to counter their aggression. This wasn't like him. He should struggle harder, at least punched one out. That was what his head was telling him, but he couldn't carry out the actions. He wasn't in control.

"Dean! Bobby!" he yelled again, more desperate. Why wasn't his yelling waking up the other hunters?

A car waited out front with a fourth demon in the driver's seat and the engine idling. They forced him in the backseat, with one sitting on each side. The man who had calmly stood by earlier got in the front seat. With tires squealing the car sped away.

Dean woke up an hour later. First he stretched then noticed how quiet the house sounded. "Wake up sleeping beauty, we've got more work."

No response came from the kitchen.

He threw the covers off, then stood up and peeked into the kitchen. "Sammy?"

Sam's mattress was empty. The worry Dean had so often felt for his baby brother rose up inside and made him spring into action.

"Bobby, wake up!" he yelled towards Bobby's room then dashed across the study to the kitchen, where his keys rested on the kitchen table.

Something small managed to catch his eye. A piece of paper rested on Sam's mattress. He picked it up and saw it was a written address. The address made him crinkle his brow in confusion. It was in West Plains, Missouri. What the hell? Why the hell would the demons take Sammy there?

"Bobby?" Dean yelled again.

The older man reached the wide kitchen threshold as he finished straightening the collar on his flannel.

Dean held up the paper. "Demons took Sam."

Bobby took the paper from him and squinted at the writing. "West Plains, Missouri?" A realization showed in the older hunter's eyes. "The last hunter who went to that town is missing. Something's going on and now Sam's caught up in it."

Dean picked up his keys, "Let's go."

Catherine woke up feeling like her mouth was full of cotton. She forced herself to concentrate. The last thing she remembered was exorcising her friend. They had been in her living room. Her friend Kristy was tied down, cursing and laughing. She had gotten the demon out, explained what had happened to her bewildered friend, and then left a while later. She remembered calling her older sister Marie while leaving her friend's house, next she remembered waking up here, in this damp cell. She should be home with her sisters. They were probably worried sick. Her older sister Lee had surgery yesterday. She should be at the hospital, instead of being cooped up in this stupid cell.

She looked across the hall to the cell facing hers. Where the room had been vacant the previous day, a man in his upper-twenties laid oddly on the floor. It looked like the demons had just dropped him there uncaring. He must have been unconscious when they brought him in because his head was bleeding from where it hit the floor. No wonder since his hands were bound behind him. He couldn't have stopped the fall even if he were conscious. She stood and went to the bars. He was handsome, with hair on the long side, and shoulders that were broad and built.

"Hey," she said loudly. The man started to wake up. "Hey, you okay?"

The man stirred groggily, confused by his unexpected surroundings. He managed to sit up. A dizzy spell hindered him for a while before slowly passing. He could feel something sticky on the side of his face and knew it was blood. No wonder he felt a little dizzy, but, otherwise he was alright. "I think so," he grumbled. "How did I… demons," he whispered to himself, remembering his rude awakening.

"You know about demons?" Catherine asked.

They both exchanged confused looks. "How do you know about demons?" He countered in return.

She hesitated before answering; the trademark need for secrecy stopped her from telling the truth. Hunters couldn't afford the luxury of telling the truth, but she knew he wouldn't be imprisoned if they didn't share the same job. "You're a hunter, too, I take it," she causally commented, already anticipating his answer.

"Yeah. Sam Winchester. What's your name?"

"Catherine Evans."

Sam searched his memory, trying to place the name. He stopped on a memory from his teenager years when their father invited another hunter named Mark to stay for dinner. He, Dean, Mark, and John had sat in that little motel room, swapping stories over beer and burgers. He only remembered the man since he talked about his three nieces who were becoming avid hunters themselves. Sam remembered having mixed feeling over the situation. Knowing other children had grown up like him, being trained to fight monsters, exorcise demons, and decapitate vampires was comforting and repulsing at the same time. On one hand he felt relieved he wasn't the only hunter's kid out there besides Dean, on the other hand he was disgusted because he never used to like the lifestyle that was forced on him. He wondered if the girls wanted something more out of life, something normal like first dates, going to the prom, or going to college like he wanted. He never wished a hunter's life on anyone. That memory had happened years ago, when Sam was seventeen, before he had escaped to Stanford. He hadn't thought of that memory since, yet here was one of the nieces Mark talked about.

"Nice to meet you. I met your uncle once."

She smiled slightly in return and then the smile faded. She vaguely remembered her uncle Mark telling her about the time he had met the Winchesters on a hunt. Their father, John, had been a hunter. Sam and his older brother Dean had started and stopped the Apocalypse. They had stopped the yellow eyed demon, Lilith, and the Devil himself.

"It's nice to meet you too, Sam. Although I wish it were under better circumstances. Yesterday they killed more hunters. I heard the demons talking about it."

More hunters were dead? This was not something Sam wanted to hear. "Who?"

"Roy and Walt I think were their names."

Oh, God, Sam thought. He had known them. Granted, they had tracked Sam and Dean down and shot them both point blank, but that didn't mean they deserved to be killed by demons. Sam and Dean no longer had hard feelings towards them. The angel Joshua had sent them back to their bodies and many other things had happened since, like Sam stopping Lucifer by falling into the cage and Dean becoming Death for a day to get Sam's soul back.

"So, demons are rounding up hunters and killing them?" asked Sam.

"Mostly they're just killing them on sight. You and I are the only one's they've captured and haven't killed straight away."

"Why?"

"To lure in your brother and my sisters. My sisters are in North Carolina."

"They got Tamara in Nebraska already. Dean and I couldn't save her," he paused, having to fight back the regret. "Demons don't usually organize this much, not over this much distance. They don't usually target hunters like this, mostly they keep away. It's us who find them. I wonder why they've changed their game plan." He looked up at Catherine.

"I don't know, but I do know this involves all of us. If they're banning together, then we have to band together to defeat them."

Marie sat up late watching over her younger sister as she slept in her hospital bed. She couldn't sleep in the reclining chair next to the bed anyway. It was never easy sleeping in hospitals with constant commotion going on outside the room and nurses entering every few hours to take blood pressure, check the IV, or supply medication.

Just the fact that she was in the same room with Lee put her mind at ease. The previous night, when Lee was in intensive care just after surgery Marie couldn't be with her as much because of hospital rules. She had left a cup of holy water and a salt shaker from the cafeteria next to her bed while the nurses weren't looking. Lee would know why they were there because Marie had done the same thing after previous surgeries. Even though Lee was drugged and less mobile, she could at least throw water or salt in a demon or ghost's face. Marie had also repositioned her necklace complete with an anti-possession charm. The nurses had removed all jewelry before surgery, but now that it was over she could wear it again. It was better than having nothing at her disposal and it made Marie feel a little better about leaving her sister by herself.

It wasn't a demon who had put her sister in the hospital. It wasn't something she could fight or something to salt and burn. From the day she was born her sister Lee had fought for her life. She had been born premature and been diagnosed with Hydrocephalus before she was one year old. Yeah, it was just a routine shunt revision, but it always made Marie feel vulnerable when Lee was hospitalized. It meant they were down one hunter. Any demon wearing a doctor's face could enter and easily off her sister with a lethal dose injected into her IV. Any demon would love to "gank" a hunter in such a defenseless state. It wasn't as easy fighting back with incisions in your head and abdomen, or with morphine running through your veins.

That's why, once Lee was moved to a private hospital room, Marie had salted the one window and doorway. All medical personnel who entered gave them strange looks. Marie just shrugged and stated Lee was very superstitious. They seemed to buy the reason, or at least ignored the strange behavior. The Neurosurgeon had more important things on his mind than spilled salt.

Marie and Lee's baby sister, Catherine, was a state away exercising an old college friend who had been possessed days ago. She should be driving back now and could be there before the nurse delivered breakfast. Marie had pleaded for her not to go, but Catherine was just as stubborn and independent as always.

Once upon a time, one of Lee's surgeries would have been their biggest problem. That was before their mother was murdered. Marie had been seven, Lee had been four, and Catherine had been ten months.

Young Marie had heard her mother scream from downstairs and a gunshot that soon followed. She ran to the top of the stairs.

"Mommy?"

"Stay upstairs with Catherine, Marie!" her mother, Anne, yelled as she rounded the banister pushing a crying Lee up the first few steps. In one hand she carried a gun. Why was she carrying a gun, Marie wondered?

"Lock you and your sister in the nursery. Find anything you can use as a weapon. Go!"

Anne hurried back down the stairs, cocking her gun. Marie took Lee by the hand and ran back upstairs into the nursery, where baby Catherine was now crying. Marie shut and locked the door just like her mother had asked. She lifted Catherine out of her crib and put her in Lee's arms.

"Hold her tight in case we have to run." Lee nodded her head in understanding as another tear trailed down her face.

Marie threw open the closet door and started feverously rummaging through all the baby clothes and toys within. She found a random tennis racket and decided it was her best option. They heard another gunshot from downstairs. Marie raised the racket over her shoulder like a baseball bat. She heard fast footsteps. Running on pure fear, she tensed, readying herself for anything.

A loud bang came from the other side of the door. Someone was trying to kick it down. A burglar perhaps? Another gunshot sounded followed by a thud.

"Marie, its mommy, open the door."

Marie dropped the tennis racket and unlocked the door, relieved to hear her mother's voice and not some intruder come to kidnap her and her sisters.

"Come on, girls!" They raced from the room; Lee still had Catherine in her arms.

Another demon jumped them before they got fully downstairs. Their mother shot him with her salt rifle without even thinking then jumped over the banister to the foyer floor before throwing open the front door.

"Go to your uncle's house! Don't stop!"

Their mother was right behind them, but another demon caught her on the front porch.

"Don't stop, girls," she managed to yell.

The demon had her in his clutches. He disarmed her easily and covered her mouth with his hand. Another demon came out of the house, smiling evilly, her eyes a hallow blackness. The girl she possessed was still in her teens. In her hand she carried a large carving knife from the kitchen, where Anne had put a salt round in her head. The shot hadn't killed but had temporarily disabled the demon. Their mother struggled futilely, making a scared, muffled sound before the demon jammed the knife into her gut. All the fight went out of her as her captor let her fall to the porch floor.

Their uncle Mark lived a neighborhood over, which is where the girls ran without stopping, climbing over backyard fences and rounding toys scattered in neighbors' yards. In one yard a small terrier tried to nip their heels as they ran through her territory. Still crying, they reached Mark's house, pounding on the front door till he answered. Right when he opened the door Mark was bombarded by two hysterical girls both speaking at once.

"Mommy! People killed her!"

"You got to help! Mom—she—"

Mark's mind immediately jumped into action, the hunter in him overpowering. He took Catherine from Lee's arms and hurried the kids into his truck and raced over to his sister's house. Upon driving up, they saw no demons. The evil sons-of-bitches were gone. The lights from inside the house silhouetted their mother's body in the darkness. Mark raced to her side and checked her pulse, but it was too late. The wound in her abdomen had bled out extensively.

It was difficult, but he kept the sadness inside. He didn't want to break down in front of his nieces. He just held his older sister to his chest and rocked her as if she were Marie's age. He smelled her hair and kissed her cheek. Saying this good-bye was harder than any demon he had exorcised, than any corpse he had burned, than any poltergeist he had dispelled. This time it was something irreversibly bad happening to him, something he couldn't hunt or defeat. He knew he couldn't kill death; he knew he couldn't bring Anne back.

Once he was ready to say good-bye, he built a makeshift pyre. It wasn't nearly as well done as ones he had built for their parents, but he had to get the girls to a safer place as soon as possible. As a family, with Catherine back in his arms, he and the girls watched their loved one burn. It was all such a waste. Mark knew they hadn't come to kill his sister. She had just gotten in the way. He knew they had come for Lee. They had come for a defenseless little child with an enormous gift. She was a witch with the ability to weaken or enhance the powers of others. It wasn't the first time the family had had to protect the middle child. The supernatural had made kidnapping attempts before. This time his sister had paid to protect her daughters with her life. Mark would do the same to keep his nieces safe.

The next day Mark asked Marie if she saw something strange.

"Marie, did you see a stranger in the house?"

The seven-year-old nodded her head yes.

"Did you see someone with black eyes?"

She shook her head no.

Marie didn't know then that her uncle was questioning her about demons, but she knew now. Now, at age 28, she knew all too well. She knew there were supernatural things out there that could possess or kill. She had faced such evil creatures most of her life; it was practically all Lee and Catherine remembered since they were so young when their uncle started training them.

Marie would die for either of her younger sisters without a second thought. She wished she could cure Lee's Hydrocephalus, wished she could constantly be by Catherine's side. But, she couldn't. All she could do was keep fighting the demons that turned her life upside down.

The next morning breakfast came but with no sign of Catherine. Marie's worry reached its peak. She called Catherine's cell first. It rang four times then went to voicemail. Where the hell could she be?

"There's got to be a reason," Lee spoke as she ate her eggs. After surgery she never had problems eating hospital food even though it wasn't exactly gourmet. The doctors always instructed her not to eat twelve hours before surgery, so hospital food always tasted good. "She might have stopped at a motel for the night, or maybe she's at Mark's house."

Marie tried to take comfort in Lee's words, but couldn't shake her nervous feeling.

Next, she called Mark. Again, she got voicemail.

"Something's wrong," Marie finally admitted. "I can't get a hold of Catherine or Mark."

An uneasy silence hung in the air. Lee had stopped eating. What if something really was wrong? The sisters knew all-too-well just how much danger was in the world. Catherine had gone on a hunt solo. It was much easier to take out one hunter than three.

"Maybe she's still traveling," Lee hypothesized.

"No, she called me right before she left. It was the only way I'd let her go alone, if I knew where she was at all times. She's had plenty of time to get here. Something's wrong. We should get to Mark's house."

"I could sign myself out," Lee suggested.

"Let's do that." Marie was instantly to her feet and out the door searching for a nurse.

By noon Marie was leaving the hospital with Lee in a wheelchair, armed with pain medication. Her doctor hadn't been thrilled to hear she wanted to leave, but had let her sign out earlier than desired because she was eating well and her incisions looked fine. Marie helped her in the car gently, careful not to agitate her cuts. They drove to Mark's house in silence with the radio low.

When Marie pulled her car into their uncle's driveway she was instantly alarmed. His old truck was still parked out front but the front door was cracked open. After helping Lee out of the car and stowing her gun in the back of her jeans, she entered the house first, pushing the front door open with one hand and readying her gun full of salt rounds with the other. First, she noticed an alien smell that had never been in the house before. She covered her nose and mouth with her hand cupped in her sleeve. The smell was growing steadily more pungent.

Lee entered just behind her, aiming her own gun. She soon covered her nose and mouth too. Marie demanded that she stay in the car, but Lee had refused. Pain had always been a part of her life whether due to hunting or Hydrocephalus. She couldn't stop hunting just because she had a medical problem rearing its ugly head.

The front hallway showed no more signs of intrusion, so they crept silently down the little foyer and turned to their right, aiming their guns into the family room where they had played board games or watched television during those short years before demons entered their lives. The den floor wasn't scattered with toys this time, but the bloody, damaged body of their uncle. He lay oddly on his back at the foot of the side table by the couch. Magazines and pillows were scattered over the floor. The tan carpet was peppered with blood droplets and two distinct blood spatters near Mark's body.

Both girls rushed to his side, feeling like the whole situation was an intangible nightmare. Marie checked for a pulse even though she expected to find none. He was too cold; his skin was too gray because the blood left in his body had settled without the heart pumping it continuously. His eyes remained wide in a state of shock even though they appeared lifeless.

Lee had her hand over her mouth, trying not to become too hysterical. Marie took her into her arms and turned her own face away from their uncle's statuesque body, his lifeless, opaque eyes, and his abnormally bruise-tented flesh. They wanted to forget his morbid appearance, but it was too late because every detail was ingrained in their memories. The face of a dead loved one wasn't easily forgotten.

Even though she tried to keep the pain inside just like Mark had the night their mother died, Marie couldn't hold back the tide. The sisters held each other and cried until their faces were splotchy and their eyes were red. First their father, then their mother, and now their uncle, all gone, all killed. It was just them now, and Catherine was missing.

Once Marie calmed her mind enough to think again, she noticed two tiny objects in Mark's hand: a folded piece of paper and a ring. It was Catherine's ring, with an elegant, half-carat diamond setting. It had been their mother's. Their mother had given it to Marie and Marie had given it to Catherine after their mother died so she could have something to remember her by. At least she had a keepsake to accompany her own fabricated mental images. Marie figured keeping the ring made their mother's life realer than old pictures. Marie handed the ring to Lee, who made a distressed sound when she examined the little circle. It was all too much, their sister missing and their uncle murdered. This ring was meant to send a message. The demons had kidnapped Catherine. That's why she hadn't shown up at the hospital.

Marie hesitantly unfolded the little piece of paper. All that was written was an address. 213 Maple, West Plains, Missouri. She wasn't familiar with the address, but she knew that's where she would find Catherine. She put the address and ring in her pocket and took a moment to collect her thoughts.

Lee spoke first, her voice shaky. "If the demons have Catherine then this is going to be a bitch of a hunt. I'm not functioning at full strength."

"You're not going on this hunt period."

"What?" Lee asked, exasperated.

"You heard me. I can't save Catherine and worry about you too. What if your incisions get torn, what if a demon kills you? They'll kick your ass in a second. We both know you're already a target. I can't put you in danger."

"If I don't stay with you then I'm in more danger. If they can get Mark, then they can get me too. They could get me while you're out on your rescue mission. It's dangerous either way. I'm going with you."

"No, you're not—"

"I'm not asking your permission. She's my little sister too."

Marie couldn't counter. She knew all three of them were stubborn in their own ways. She was only trying to keep Lee safe, but Lee's mind was made up. There was no way she was going to miss the action. But, Lee was only half a hunter. Marie thought hard, sorting out the situation. One sister captured, one sister in no condition to fight, and their uncle murdered. Marie's list of allies was extremely short. She couldn't take it all on by herself. They didn't even know how many demons would be waiting. She needed help. But, who could they trust?

She took out her phone and scrolled through her contact list. A familiar name made her stop: Dean Winchester, her uncle knew him and his brother. He had met their late father. She pushed Send and the phone started to ring.

"Marie? Have you seen Sam?" came Dean's voice.

"Hey Dean. Is Sam missing too?" she questioned.

"Yeah, since last night. Damn demons left an address too, West Plains, Missiouri. Bobby and I are heading there right now."

"Catherine's missing too. The demons left me the same message. What the hell's going on? Why would the demons take Sam and Catherine?"

"Dunno. But I'm sure as hell going to find out."

Marie sighed. Tears stung her eyes again. The last few days had been so stressful.

Dean noticed the heavy silence. "What's wrong?"

"They killed Mark and Lee just had surgery. I need your help on this one."

There was a pause. When Dean spoke again his voice was laden with seriousness. "Mark's dead? I'm so sorry, Marie."

"Yeah, me too," she paused too, keeping the tears at bay again. "How about we hook up in West Plains?"

"I'll see you there."

"Thanks, Dean, I own you one."

"Just hang in there. We'll get them back," he encouraged, using the same serious voice he often used with Sam.

"Yeah." Marie didn't know what else to say. She just hung up.

Lee looked on the verge of crying again too, but they didn't have time for more tears.

Dean pressed the End button on his cell phone. He hit the steering wheel angrily. "Damn demons."

"So, lay it on me, what did Marie say?" asked Bobby.

"Bastards killed Mark and took Catherine. We're meeting Marie and Lee in West Plains. I've got a bad feeling. I wish we had Cas' help, but dude won't answer."

"We could use his angel mojo right now."

Dean was pissed. How dare they take his little brother! All his life he had worried about Sam, protected him. He could never get used to the painful, distressed feeling he got when Sam was taken, hurt, or killed. God, he hoped Sam wasn't dead. If there was ever a time for Cas to answer, it would be now. His friend would get an earful when Dean saw him again. Some guardian angel, the winged dick hardly answered anymore. He tried to ignore his racing thoughts and just drive. It was the only thing he had control over at the moment. He cranked up the volume on the Led Zeppelin song that was playing and revved the accelerator.

Marie felt somewhat better. Bobby and Dean were scheduled to meet them. They could handle this now. They could get Catherine back, and now, apparently Sam too. She wouldn't have to worry about Lee quite as much with other hunters backing her up.

She glanced back down at Mark's body. She knew they couldn't just leave him there.

She looked at Lee who was now sitting on the edge of the couch. "You take it easy while I clean up."

Lee got to her feet slowly. "No way, I'll help you."

"Lee, don't argue with me again. You need to conserve your strength."

"I know that, but you need help too. Get over it, I'm helping."

Marie took a deep breath and gave in. "For someone born only three pounds, you sure got a lot of stubbornness."

Lee grinned, but the smile showed no happiness. "I'll take that as a complement."

First, Marie stripped one of the bed sheets and wrapped Mark's body in it. Next, she went through Marks large, cedar truck with his stash of weapons and holy water. Inside, among the arsenal, she found a sawed off shot gun, a bowie knife, and a home-made flame thrower, which she collected together in a pillowcase. In another pillowcase she collected all the salt from the kitchen pantry and filled two glass gallon jugs from the recycle bin with water and dropped one of Mark's crucifixes in each before retightening the lids. She had all these things in the trunk of her car, but they never planned on coming back, so why let everything go to waste?

Diligently, Marie went through every room, thoroughly wiping down all surfaces. She didn't want to leave any evidence of her and her sister behind.

Marie pondered if she should clean the blood spatters, but then thought it a waste of time because she knew no matter how diligently she scrubbed there would still be traces for the forensics to find. Even though something far beyond anything most humans could conceive had killed her uncle, to a normal person's eyes it would still look like a human did the dirty deed. No weapons within the house had visible blood on them. Marie guessed whatever demon killed Mark took the murder weapon with him or her.

While Marie cleaned, Lee went through Mark's hunter research in the large hallway closet. Actually it was a panic closet. Over the existing sheetrock, Mark had installed metal sheets that he thoroughly painted with salt water. It was directly under the stairs, so the space was deep, even with the angled rear wall. Inside the closet he kept all his important information and a second stash of weapons. In the slanted space where it was too short to stand a plethora of books and papers were stacked. A tiny desk and chair were crammed in among the clutter overflowing to the doorway. Lee remembered when she and Marie had helped install the little room. Originally it had been more for them than Mark, just a safe place he could shove them in if demons invaded. At first glance, it looked like an arduous task, but Lee went through all the papers in record time. She kept a good two foot stack, which she put in the trunk of the car. Most of his information they already knew by heart or had their own copy. Out of the weapons, Lee only took two silver knives. They had everything else she left hanging on the walls. They had silver knives, but she figured too many were never too much. A silver knife was useful in nearly every fight even if it didn't kill the creature, except when fighting a ghost. In that case you needed iron.

After going through the house, in the backyard, the sisters prepared a hunter's funeral. Marie chopped large limbs and put them in a pile. She insisted she do all the work herself and for Lee to conserve her strength and try to heed the doctor's orders by not lifting anything over ten pounds, but Lee's stubbornness won again and they built the pyre together. In the middle of the job, however, Lee had to take a break and popped an extra pain pill. It was even more difficult getting Mark's body out of the house since Lee had to take multiple breaks, but, after a slow, enduring process in which Marie did 90% of the lifting, they finally got him on the stack of wood without reopening any of Lee's incisions. They were ready to burn there uncle's body just in time for nightfall and feeling thankful the fence lining Mark's yard was six feet high and the neighboring homes weren't right on top of each other. It would help protect them from any peeping eyes while the sisters said their last good-byes.

Marie was ready with a torch made of a thick stick with one of Mark's t-shirts soaked in whiskey wrapped around one end. After she doused his prone body with fuel, she set the t-shirt aflame and lowered the fire to ignite Mark's corpse, then threw the blazing stick and the plastic fuel bottle onto the pyre. Lee brought a six pack of Mark's favorite beers from the house and they each popped one open and silently toasted to his life. The flames burned like a mirror image of Marie's soul, of her yearning for revenge. She vowed to herself that she would right this wrong if it was the last thing she did. She reached out for Lee's hand and held it firmly, promising protection, promising to amend everything in her power.

At least the two older sisters got to say a suitable good-bye. It was so unfair. Catherine wouldn't get the chance to mourn their uncle, wouldn't get a chance to properly say farewell. It was the third death that Catherine wouldn't experience or remember. She would be left with another large hole that would have to be filled with what little comfort she could conjure. No funeral, no last good-bye, just gaping loss.

Once the flames extinguished themselves, Marie and Lee checked the house one last time then locked it up tight. They got in their car and drove away without a glance behind. Even though they never said it out lout, they both knew they would never return.

They drove straight to West Plains through the night, only stopping once for a short bathroom break and dinner a la gas station. Lee slept most of the way so she could recuperate her strength. She took two pain pills at the beginning of the thirteen hour drive, but only took one every time the pain started bothering her again. During the last couple of hours of the trip she didn't take any pills. They made her drowsy and she wanted her wits strong for any fighting. The pain in her abdomen leveled out to a medium ache. It was annoying but she could ignore it if needed. They stopped at a second gas station three-fourths of the way through Tennessee just before 6am, where they fed themselves and the car. Lee had gotten a fair amount of sleep so she insisted that Marie catch a few hours before they reached their destination. After driving all night the long nap was welcoming. Lee finished her coffee as they finished the last section of their journey.

It was after 10am by the time the two pairs of hunters met in an abandoned, gravel parking lot across the street from a decaying prison.

Bobby closed the Impala's passenger door and waved at the girls.

"Haven't seen you girls since you were tikes," the older hunter commented.

Lee shook Dean's hand. "Ready to kill these bastards?"

"Ready as ever," he said as he shook Marie's hand.

That was the end of their pleasantries. They didn't have the time to swap stories. They had demons to kill and hunters to rescue. Conversation could wait till later once the deed was done and they could celebrate with shots of whiskey.

The address that was left in place of their loved ones matched the old, closed-down prison across the street. The building had been out of service a few years as shown by the evidence slowly making the fortress unfortified. Paint was cracking and peeling from the window frames and the occasional window pane was in a different state of damage. Cement between the bricks showed considerable cracks. Foliage was rampant. Weeds flourished from the outer prison walls to the tall chain-link fence outlining the perimeter. Nature had sprouted from every crevice. Where the prison was once overcrowded with inmates, it was now overcrowded with plant growth.

Drug deals had taken place within before the demons drove all the pesky humans away, or killed them. The demons had set up home and were now apparently killing hunters for revenge. The demons had had enough so they were retaliating by hunting the hunters.

After they double checked their trunks to make sure they had all they needed, all four hunters were ready.

Dean looked up at the ramshackle, foreboding building.

"Awesome," he sarcastically commented. "So, what do you think, just bust through the front door?"

"That would be my best guess," Bobby commented. "We'll be outnumbered either way."

They all looked at each other, knowing how few they were while knowing the prison could be filled with demons. Well, if they died, they were all going down swinging.

"Still no chance I'll convince you to stay behind?" Marie asked Lee.

"No chance in Hell, sis."

Despite the fact that Marie detested Lee's involvement during this particular hunt, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride. Her two baby sisters had guts; Mark had taught them well.

They came to the first locked door well inside the building. The door to the main cell block was locked, which Dean quickly remedied. They walked past all the cells within, but all were empty. It was almost eerie, even to well-seasoned hunters. All the cells were relatively dark, only lit by minimal natural light. Cobwebs and dust were rampant. The paint was flaking off the walls and off the cell bars, exposing the drywall and the metal.

They inched their way through the cell block, feeling like things were too easy, too quiet. All of them walked cautiously, ready for a demon to jump out any second. What were the demons waiting for? Dean had expected the place to be swarming with dozens of people with black-eyes. Instead it was a dead zone, filled only with spider webs, debris, and the wind howling through the vacant corridor. A bird tweeted up near the ceiling and they all pointed their guns before they realized it wasn't a threatening sound. They were all jumpy.

They found the infirmary at the end of the lengthy cell block. Dusty spaces were left where electronics once stood. Shelves that flanked a whole wall were bare of all medical files and now only filled with dust and cobwebs. They passed a few darkened and locked rooms before they saw a room on their left which had its door standing wide open. Only natural light came from within because the electricity was shut off, but compared to the rest of the prison the room didn't feel completely still. The foursome entered slowly, all pointing their guns and feeling ready for anything. Inside was a surgical room, complete with two large hospital beds and a few empty rolling tables lining the walls.

Just a few feet away, roughly in the center of the room was a good-sized devil's trap painted on the floor. Dean wondered if hunters had been here before and tried to clear out the squatting demons.

The people upon the two beds were the only things that matter, however. Sam was cuffed to the bed next to Catherine, shackled by a set of handcuffs with one half connected to his wrist or ankle and the other half locked around a piece of the bed's head frame or foot frame. Lying on the bed closest to the other hunters was Catherine. She wasn't handcuffed to the bed frame like Sam, but strapped down as if in a mental institution instead of a prison.

Her head moved slightly. "Marie…Lee?"

"She's alive," Marie whispered.

Overwhelmed with relief, Lee and Marie ran to the table, putting their weapons down, and started undoing Catherine's straps. Dean and Bobby were right behind them.

"Dean, it's a trap," Sammy announced as his brother and Bobby moved to his bedside.

"We know, but we had no choice. You hurt?" Dean asked seeing a wound on Sam's temple where dried blood was still crusted on his skin.

"No, I'm okay."

Dean searched for a paper clip on his person. Not finding one, he went to an old window pane and started picking at the wood in attempt to flake off a splinter.

Bobby already had a paper clip in hand and had bent it into a workable shape and started picking the cuff around Sam's left wrist by the time Dean dislodged a good sized splinter and started picking the handcuff that held Sam's right wrist.

"Damn you're fast, Bobby."

"Common sense, boy. Always keep a lock pick in your pocket."

"Less bitching, more helping, guys," Sam suggested as if he were the one with the most experience.

Both Bobby and Dean gave him a look as if to say "shut-up." Bobby got Sam's left hand free first then moved to his left foot.

"Something's wrong. This is way too easy," Dean announced, feeling he had to hurry just in case their luck ran out and dozens of demons blocked their exit. The cuff around Sam's right wrist was being a bitch.

Their luck just ran out. Once Catherine was free, she jumped off the table while unsheathing a knife she had hidden behind her back. She put the knife against Lee's throat and pushed her back against the bed so she was half lying and half standing. Marie came around the bed, ready to pull Catherine off of Lee, but the second she saw Catherine's black eyes she was thrown back, crashing into the cement floor like a rag doll. Bobby was thrown back against the closest wall on Sam's left. Neither hunter was knocked unconscious, but both felt pain from the impact. Marie got to her feet while holding her left wrist. Dean had time to get Ruby's demon knife in hand and was about to stab Catherine with it before he heard Marie scream.

"Dean, don't!"

Her voice made him pause just enough for Catherine to throw him against the wall next to Bobby. It was an immense impact but he still held onto his knife.

Four other demons entered the room, dispersing throughout. Dean didn't know who to throw his knife at first. A demon commenced combat with Bobby while another went for Dean. Dean stabbed him with the demon knife, watching as he died, before letting him fall sideways to the floor. Another demon came at him with a piece of metal pipe that struck Dean's lower arm, making him drop his knife. The hunter didn't have time to examine his limb before another demon forced his arms behind his back, but he knew it was broken because every minor movement brought misery. After a good fight Bobby was overpowered and the demon had his hands secured behind his back too. The hunters were now outnumbered. They were screwed, thoroughly trapped.

With the hunters contained, the demon inside Catherine now had a few seconds of free-rein. She refocused on Lee, grinning evilly. First, she ripped her anti-possession charm necklace from her throat, then forced Lee's mouth open with her free hand and opened her own mouth wide. Black smoke went from one sister to the next.

"No!" Marie yelled frantically, trying to move towards her sister, but surprised she couldn't move any further forward. She looked down and saw she was inside the devil's trap. What the hell? Why couldn't she exit the seal? Devil's traps didn't work on humans. But, it was true. She couldn't escape. She tested the perimeter and found there was an invisible barrier. All she could do was watch as the demon went from Catherine into Lee.

Once free of possession, Catherine didn't have time to evaluate the situation before Lee pushed her off, seized her and brought the knife to her throat.

"You humans are so gullible. I knew you would come for your sister," said the demon now possessing Lee.

Lee glanced around the room at her three new captives, looking quite proud with herself for luring in more hunters. "I knew you would come for Sam, Dean, but I didn't know Bobby Singer would be a bonus."

"You got us here," Dean mocked while staring Lee down, "good for you. So what now, bitch?" Dean's voice upheld that trademark sarcasm that constantly masked his true feelings.

"Not that I won't enjoy killing you, but I've already got what I wanted," the demon inside Lee smiled at Marie wickedly. Lee pointed to her own head with the tip of the knife. "I wanted to get inside Lee's head," she put the knife back against Catherine's neck. "She has serious power. Imagine what that power could do in the wrong hands."

"What are you talking about?" questioned Marie.

"Oh, your sister didn't tell you? She's a witch. She's got power you couldn't even imagine."

"I know, but we've never encouraged her to strengthen her power," Marie countered.

Everyone in the family knew. Her sister was a witch, yes, but not a monster, not some son-of-a-bitch worth sending to Hell. All three of them had agreed not to use Lee's powers, even under the direst of circumstances. It wasn't right. They didn't want to give Lee the possibility of being seduced by the wrong agenda. They didn't even want there to be a choice. She would use all of her humanity to hunt evil, nothing more; it was all other hunters used. They had neglected the power mostly to keep her safe. If she wasn't practiced then demons and other hunters alike wouldn't have a reason to make her a target. Being a hunter put her in enough danger already. Having powers demons would want to manipulate or hunters would want to eradicate could only amplify that danger.

"Always weak, you humans," the demons spoke, acidulously, "Your sister could be more powerful than your wildest dreams. Why hinder that? It's not like she's the first witch in your family."

"There were a few generations ago, yeah, but…"

"Not just that far back. Your own father is a witch."

"Was. Our father's dead," Marie countered.

"That's just what your mother told you. He's not dead. Your mother only said that to explain why he wasn't around anymore."

"You're lying."

"She's not lying, Marie."

Marie turned her head towards the new voice. In the threshold a man stood who looked somewhat familiar. It took her a few moments to work out why she recognized him. His eyes were just as baby blue as she remembered; he was tall like Lee and Catherine, and had the same nose as her. Lee's hair was similar to his; an average shade of brown, the only difference was that his now had some gray starting to show. As Marie formed a conclusion she also fought against the preposterous reasoning. It couldn't be. He was dead. She had known he was dead for years; she had mourned and accepted the fact.

After shutting and relocking the door behind him, James came into the room, crossing through the group of captors and captives, and stood beside Lee, who still held Catherine.

Marie's mind raced uncontrollably. So many memories bombarded her, so many things their mother Anne had told her about their father. It hurt her head as she tried to piece everything together. There he was right in front of her. How was he not dead? Why had he left them? What the hell was going on? More memories overwhelmed…

During high school her mother Anne and her father James went hunting together. They had been tracking a very powerful witch who was collecting items from each member of a family and using the items to curse them so they would murder each other by hacking each other to bits. Already, in Virginia, the witch had caused the mother, father, and youngest daughter to kill each other. The story had been front page news. With some research, Anne and James found out the two older siblings went to college at Chapel Hill, NC, which was where they met up with the witch and killed her hunter style. That night Anne had noticed how quiet James had been after the hunt. Anne's parents were on a hunt themselves at the time, so Anne and James went back to her place. They sat in the kitchen drinking a glass of Chardonnay from a bottle her parents had already opened.

They had been dating for months and were madly in love. Anne had told James she was a hunter and he had taken the news much better than she had hoped. Once the initial shock wore off he had overran her with questions. She was stunned when he asked if he could join her on a hunt. Reluctantly, she let him tag along. She picked an easier hunt: a ghost, an average salt and burn. He handled it well, even lit his own lighter and threw it into the coffin. That one hunt had done it; he started training and researching, wanting to become a hunter just like his girlfriend. He had taken karate for years, so any hand-to-hand combat came naturally. Anne loved how he fit into the hunter way of life flawlessly. It was wonderful having someone to share that part of her life with since that part of her life had to be kept secret from everyone else outside of the family.

So, why was this hunt bothering him so much? Anne wondered. She tapped her finger nervously against her wine glass.

"So," James cleared his throat. "Do you think all witches are evil? Do you hunt them because they are witches or because they are evil?"

Anne was taken aback by his questions. She put her wine down and thought for a short while. "They're human. They're not innately evil like demons. But, there is a line many cross and that's when I have to stop them. They become a target when they use their magic against other people. Why do you ask?"

James paused, feeling unsure.

Anne noticed his hesitation and uncertainty. She reached across the table and took his hand. "Honey, what's wrong?"

"I have something to tell you and as a hunter you're not going to like it."

She held her breath. Horrible images flooded her mind, images of him with black eyes or of him standing at a crossroad facing a demon with red eyes.

"Anne…" He took a deep breath. "I'm a witch."

She let go of his hand and leaned back in her chair. The air became heavy, weighed down with seriousness. The silence made James even more nervous so he kept talking, trying to explain himself.

"There are witches in my family history. My family name used to be Blackthorne, but, after my family migrated to America in the early 1700's, they changed their name to Evanson, which later got abbreviated to Evans. My parents are witches. We don't use hexes or curses and my parents haven't taught me anything evil. I only do healing spells. When I couldn't sleep as a kid my parents mixed a relaxing tonic. They used chamomile cream to heal diaper rash; they used honey to stop hiccups, or homemade apple sauce to stop acid reflux. Everything they do is organic, not evil or cultish. They would never harm anyone else, and neither would I. Hell, I feel guilty cheating on a test at school. There's no way I could curse someone. I only use my magic to protect. I swear, I'm not some crazy devil worshiper. I could never—"

Anne took his hand again, stopping his rant that was spiraling out of control. Surprisingly she had a smile on her face. There was love and understanding in her eyes, not disgust or repulsion. James took another deep breath.

"I know you're not evil, James, and I'm glad you've been honest with me."

"So, this isn't a deal breaker? We can still go to prom together?"

"Yes. Hunters normally don't date witches, but I don't care. I know you're not evil." She hadn't let go of his hand. She lifted it and kissed it. "I love you, James Evans. I've seen a tone of crazy stuff in my life. It's going to take a bigger secret than that to scare me away."

Anne never told her parents that James was a witch. It was safer if fewer hunters knew. She did tell her younger brother, Mark, however. He took it in stride and swore never to tell their parents. He even pinky-swore for laughs just like they had done when they were kids. It helped that Mark and James were becoming friends, too.

Anne and James had gotten married straight out of high school. Right after marriage Marie had been born. In time, Lee and Catherine were born. They were a wonderful, normal family, except for the fact that their father was a witch and their parents still took the occasional hunting job.

But, strangely, just two months after Catherine was born, their father disappeared. Their mother searched high and low for him, put out alerts to other hunters, but never found him. Then, months later, their mother was killed on that horrible night that still haunted Marie's dreams occasionally.

Marie's brain fought against her. She couldn't believe the man standing before her was her father.

"It's good to see you girls again." He blinked and his eyes became black orbs. "Look at you three, all grown up. Your dad here only remembers you as little girls." His eyes returned to pale blue.

At least she now knew the true reason her father left them. He had been possessed.

"Is our father still alive," Marie sternly asked the demon wearing his face.

Catherine's eyes went wide when she heard her eldest sibling mention their father. She had no memories of him. She only knew her parents from pictures. She got a good look at the stranger and saw the resemblance. It was her father, James, an older, short-haired version, but still her father.

"Your old man's still alive. We've been well acquainted for years. He's the perfect weapon, strong and damn good at telepathy, the hunter who hunts other hunters. It's the perfect disguise."

Marie tried to keep herself from calculating how many hunters and innocent people had died by his hand. She hated him! This demonic bastard was taking a good witch's powers and using them for evil. She gleefully imagined him screaming as she sent him back to hell.

"Did you kill Mark? Did you?"

"That was me, my dear. I'm the one who ordered the invasion the night your mother died too. Those demons came back without Lee, so I sent them straight to Hell."

Marie didn't hear the part about the demons, nor did she care if the bastards got what they deserved. She only heard the part where her father had murdered her mother and uncle. She knew her father wasn't really to blame, but it still felt like salt poured on a wound.

Without thinking, she made to run at him, but was instantly pushed back by an invisible wall. Oh yeah, the devil's trap. In her fury she had forgotten.

"Magic is fascinating, isn't it?" taunted the demon. "It's interesting how symbols have changed meaning over the centuries. Take the pentagram, for instance, it used to symbolize Jesus' five wounds in medieval times, or the five senses, but now it represents Satan. A devil's trap is much the same, full of symbolic meaning. It is meant to only trap demons, but, thanks to your daddy, I now know how to reverse its power and use it to trap you." The demon grinned grotesquely.

"I thought my dad never learned harmful magic."

"He didn't until he met me. Together, we've learned tons over the years. It's amazing what people will tell you when you're wearing someone else's face. They don't even question why if I tell them it's for a hunt. No one cares when you ask about a spell that melts skin off bone if they think you're planning to use it on a demon. I didn't use it on a demon, though. You should have seen the ten-year-old boy's face that I did use it on. I made his parents watch as he screamed like a girl."

A sick feeling stabbed Marie in the stomach. The thought of a demon using their father to torment innocent people made her nauseous. She glanced at Dean's knife on the floor wishing she could pick it up and stab her father, but her painted prison kept her contained. She was trapped and detested every second. Lee was possessed and Catherine was captured. The amount of able hunters was rapidly diminishing. It was now up to Bobby and the Winchester brothers. She tested the devil's trap again, pushing against air as if she were a mime.

"Changing symbols isn't the only trick we have up our sleeves," James glanced at Lee. "With me in the driver's seat, your daddy has explored his powers in ways he wouldn't dare before. He's telekinetic, and Lee has the ability to augment his powers. If we combine our abilities we can control whatever we want, even people," he paused, watching the hunters' reactions. "Shall we demonstrate?"

This question alarmed all three of the captive hunters. Dean struggled once more, still unable to break the demon's hold. Bobby sternly looked from Marie to Dean then back again, feeling just as apprehensive.

Marie stood at the very edge of the devil's trap, almost shaking from the desire to cross the seal and pummel everything inhuman in the room. What did the demon mean "augment" his powers? She had never known Lee had that kind of ability. Was Lee about to amplify James' telepathy? Give him the ability to control anything or anyone in the room without restraint? This was crazy. She eyed Dean and saw he looked equally nervous as he sorted out what doomed scenarios could lay ahead.

Dean couldn't believe what he was hearing. It was bad enough facing a witch but a witch possessed by a demon made a potent mix. He had to admit he was nervous. This was more than just some piss-ant hunt, more than just a simple rescue. This was two witches both made stronger by having a demon inside them, with one able to increase the other's power. No way was this going to end well. He glanced at Sam. All he knew was if they hurt him in any way there would be Hell to pay.

"Time to kill some more hunters," Lee's smile was so demonic it looked alien on her young face. The demon holding Dean let go of his arms. Dean was surprised.

He retrieved Ruby's knife from the floor, then froze. The strangest feeling came over him, like an invisible hand made of spider webs crept inside his brain. He wanted to turn and stab the demon that had held him captive; instead he took an unexpected step forward. His body took another step, then another. He tirelessly fought against the phantom movements, trying to retake control of his own body. Another jerky, involuntary step brought him to Sam's bedside.

Damn witches. Now he was some witch's bitch. How could things get any worse?

Powerless against it, Dean reached down and took hold of Sam's left wrist; his grasp was hurtful, abusive even. Sam managed to yank himself free.

"Dean, stop."

Dean seized his arm again and twisted it back unnaturally until it snapped. Sam screamed intensely.

Bobby struggled, wanting to free himself so he could knock Dean out. If he wasn't awake than he couldn't be used as a witch's plaything. But an alien force came over him, diminishing his fighting will.

"I'm so sorry, Sammy."

Both the brothers' faces showed absolute surprise. Sam because his arm now hurt and Dean because he couldn't believe he just harmed his baby brother. Dean never wanted to hurt him. Even when Meg possessed him and he killed another hunter, Dean still wouldn't pull the trigger. Even when he had taken Ruby's opinions over his own brother's, Dean still only wanted what was best for Sammy.

A tear formed in Dean's eye as he arched Sam's arm back painfully and relocked his wrist in the handcuff. Out of the few times he had cried, over half concerned Sam. He hated hurting his little brother.

"Dean, what the hell?" Sam grappled against the cuffs, wanting to release his broken arm from its painful position, unable to understand why Dean had broken it.

His eyes pleaded for Dean's help, hoping Dean could snap out of it, but Dean was powerless even though he desperately wanted to kill the demons that had just made him break his brother's arm.

It wasn't the first time Dean had cuffed Sam to a bed, but, back then it had been so he could detox from demon blood, not so demons could use Dean to do whatever torturous things they wanted before killing him. Dean was an excellent torturer because of the lessons he received in Hell, but just because he had the highest education didn't mean he wanted to use those talents on any other human being, especially not Sam.

Dean involuntarily started raising Ruby's knife. His face showed struggle equal to when he labored to pull the Sword of Brunsvick from the stone. He hated having a knife in his hand that he couldn't control. In horror, Dean watched as the knife got closer and closer to Sam's face.

"Dean? What the—No!" Sam turned his face away, but Dean still cut him across his left cheek. Sam let out a quick, sharp yell, feeling the hot pain burn across his face.

Dean was breathing very rapidly; stunned at the fact that he had just cut Sammy. His hand started moving again, this time lowering and cutting across the part of Sam's clavicle that stuck out from under his V-neck collar. The knife cut a long strip to his breastbone. Blood immediately soaked his shirt.

"Dean, stop!"

"I can't, Sammy," Dean's voice rasped shakily, "I'm so sorry."

Just when Dean hoped the demons wouldn't make him do anything worse, his other hand lifted up Sam's shirt, exposing his muscular stomach. Dean could see Sam's chest rising and falling rapidly in fear.

"Please, Dean. Don't!"

Dean's face went white as he lowered the knife and cut across Sam's abdomen.

Sam's scream was gut-wrenching. Another cut was made above the previous before the cries silenced. It was like when he found out Adam was a ghoul, being tied down while a monster cut him. Except this time Dean was the monster.

"Dean—stop!"

"I can't."

"Stop!" Marie screeched. "Lee, fight it! Don't make Dean do this!"

Dean sliced open Sam's bicep between his shoulder and elbow. The deep cut started bleeding heavily. Then, he cut Sam's right wrist below where the cuff encircled. Sam's blood loss was becoming a critical issue. All the cuts were deep and would need stitching later.

Catherine and Bobby were both struggling to free themselves. Something had to be done. They couldn't just watch Dean kill Sam. Catherine desperately tried to break her sister's hold, even getting nicked by the knife in the process. She felt a heavy power descend upon her, making freeing herself even more difficult. Her limbs started to feel like they were made of iron and her will to fight seeped away. Trying to break her sister's hold felt more like moving a mountain. This was the first time she had experienced Lee's powers in action. If this was what she could do without any practice, Catherine feared what she could do once she became a forcible witch. Mark and their parents had been right to belittle her abilities. James had known the danger before being possessed.

Dean brought the knife down again and cut across Sam's already bloody stomach, making the hunter yell more laboriously than when his hallucinations made him think Alistair was torturing him in the panic room. Dean placed the knife against Sam's throat.

"Dean…" Sam looked up helplessly. Absolute hurt showed on his face. Was his brother really about to kill him?

Dean's face showed utter struggle. Whether a witch tried to make him or not, he was not going to slice Sammy's throat.

Even though she knew it wouldn't help, Marie pushed against the invisible barrier that kept her contained. She couldn't let Dean kill Sam. "Fight it, Lee, damn it!"

With great effort, Catherine managed to elbow her sister in the stomach. The demon's focus faltered only a moment, but it was just enough to free herself from Lee's grasp. She turned and punched Lee in the face, then head-butted her before arching her wrist painfully, making the knife fall from Lee's hand.

It felt like he was throwing a boulder, but Dean managed the release Ruby's knight from Sammy's throat and toss it a few feet away. If it wasn't in his hand then they couldn't make him use it on his baby brother. Getting rid of the retched thing brought slight relief, but that relief was short-lived when he watched it fly from the floor and land in Lee's hand. Lee's eyes went black before Catherine punched her again. Lee jammed the knife into Catherine's belly.

"No!" Marie screamed hysterically.

The room went quiet. Everyone stopped moving.

Catherine's body was ridged and she let out small, stunned sounds that proved it was arduous catching her breath. A sinister smile curved Lee's lips as she twisted the serrated weapon, deeply damaging her baby sister's midsection. Catherine let out more feeble sounds and a tear escaped her eye. Lee withdrew the weapon and sliced it across Catherine's throat all in one motion, then thrust-kicked her to the ground.

Catherine landed on her back with her head near the devil's trap, where Marie crouched as closely as possible. Tears were in both their eyes as Catherine strained to speak.

Between feeble noises Marie could make out bits of words. Catherine was fighting to communicate how much she loved Marie, but no full words came out. All she could do was open and close her mouth like a fish on land as her neck and stomach bled out. The effort to speak quickly drained her fading strength. Her head lulled to one side and she closed her eyes. Death didn't come instantaneously but it did come shortly after.

As Marie sobbed, Dean's mind went haywire. How the hell were they going to beat these sons-of-bitches? With Catherine dead, Sam and Marie trapped, and him and Bobby at the mercy of two controlling witches, their chances didn't look good. He couldn't just jump up and start kicking ass, because he knew they would drain his willpower.

Think, damn it, he told himself.

Bobby had gotten free of his captor and they were now fist fighting. The demon was vicious and eventually punched Bobby out. Another hunter down. Dean noticed how quickly he was running out of allies.

Sam tried to hold onto consciousness as the mattress slowly got soaked in crimson around him. Dean couldn't just watch him die; he had to do something and fast.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus," Dean recited before James punched him. The attack didn't knock Dean out, however.

"Spiritus, Omnis satanica potestas," he continued.

James tackled Dean and started strangling him. For once it was him getting strangled and not Sammy. If he wasn't in such a desperate position, Dean might have found the situation funny.

"Omnis incursio infernalis adversii," Marie continued before Lee threw the knife in her hand and it grazed past her older sister's shoulder. Marie cupped her upper arm with her hand. "Omnis congregation et secta diabolica," she weakly recited before a demon kicked her in the head, knocking her out.

Dean managed to break James' strangling hold by kneeing him in the groin. He pushed the possessed hunter off and got back on his feet. "Ergo, draco maledicte," Dean narrated before the demon who had knocked out Bobby grabbed him from behind, pinning his arms behind his back. James elbowed him in the face. Then the demon holding him arched his left arm painfully, bringing him to his knees before slamming his foot down on Dean's ankle, breaking it. Dean grimaced when he felt the bone crack.

"Ecclesiam tuam secure," Dean managed before James kicked him in the stomach. Dean fought to reclaim his breath. He was so close to finishing the Latin incantation.

Lee's face crinkled and she bent over in pain, screaming. An internal struggle ensued. Her head jerked side to side as she yelled horrific sounds. Her body was slammed into the empty bed then slammed sorely to the cement floor. "Tibi facias libertate servire—Ah!"

"You little bitch!" screamed the demon through Lee's voice. "You're going to regret that!"

Lee floundered on the floor as her and the demon within kept fighting. Blood spots seeped through her shirt from the incisions that were now torn open.

"Te rogamus—Ah!" Lee shouted before her body flew upward, crashing into the ceiling, then fell back down, crashing into the floor.

"Adinos," Dean hoarsely finished as he punched out James.

All the demons in the room started screaming all at once as their meat suits opened their mouths and multiple twisters of black smoke filled the air.

Quietness settled over the room once all the black smoke exited.

Lee slightly lifted her head and looked at all the bodies on the floor. Her breathing was laborious and her vision was dizzy, but she was herself again. She caught Dean's eyes. "We did it." She almost didn't get the words out before she fell unconscious.

Bobby woke up from his blackout, surprised by the deafening quietness in the room. Compared to the other hunters he was relatively unharmed.

"Oh, Bobby, great…" Dean motioned with his good arm. "Help me up. The demon broke my ankle."

"Looks like you idgits managed without me," he commented as he helped Dean to standing. He put Dean's good arm across his shoulders so the other hunter could use him as a crutch. Every sore spot in Dean's body complained. With Bobby's help he stumbled over to Sam's bed where he sat gently on the edge of the mattress. He took off his flannel and pressed it against Sam's stomach, trying to stop some of the blood while Bobby picked the handcuff around Sam's left wrist.

How were they going to get out of here? Even if Marie woke up, Sam and Lee along with Catherine's corpse would be a bitch to move. Two of the previously possessed people stirred, a woman wearing pajamas who looked a couple years younger than Sam, and a middle-aged man wearing a t-shirt and jeans.

"You okay, Lia?" asked the man, "I remember your brother screaming."

"Yeah. I think so..." One of the bodies on the floor caught the young lady's attention and she fell to her knees beside the one who must be her mother. The fourth body was a teenage boy who didn't look a day over fourteen, who the father knelt beside.

"Kyle?" The father checked his son's pulse, and judging from the relief on his face, the boy was alive. Next, he checked his wife's pulse, "Oh, God…"

The mother was dead. The daughter and father crouched next to her and started crying.

Bobby and Dean got all the handcuffs off of Sam. Dean checked Sam's pulse again. It was getting dangerously weak. Dean didn't mask his worry. He hated seeing his brother passed out and severely wounded. He had to save him. He had promised his father he would keep Sam safe.

"Cas…" he spoke as if talking to himself. "Cas, I swear, if you don't get your feathery ass down here right now I'll make that stupid civil war you're fighting feel like a walk in the park." He and Bobby scanned the room but didn't see their friend standing in his trademark trench coat.

"Come on, Cas," he whispered, disappointedly. He scanned the room again, unwilling to believe his friend would ignore him in a time of great need. The angel still didn't appear. He reluctantly dialed 911 and gave the address to the person on the other end. Bobby moved to Marie and woke her up next, just reaching inside the trap to touch her shoulder and not letting his whole body inside. After waking slowly, Marie stood, observing the room before timidly testing the devil's trap, finding it powerless again. She scurried to Catherine's side. Her tears started falling again instantaneously.

"I'm sorry, Marie," Bobby spoke gingerly as if the young woman was his daughter, even though he had told his late wife he didn't want kids. "There's no time for crying. We have to get Lee and Sam out of here. We've got an ambulance on the way."

Dean could tell it was difficult, but Marie mostly calmed herself. He couldn't blame her. What if Sam died? He still could if they didn't act. When Sam had died after Jake stabbed him in the back Dean's whole world had stopped. He remembered sitting with Sam's corpse and talking to him as if he were still alive. He had made a demon deal and went to Hell just to get him back. He could unfortunately relate to what Marie was going through. Dean knew losing his brother would be harder than anything else in the world. Losing a sister must be the hardest thing for Marie.

Marie and Bobby lifted Lee's body onto the vacant bed. The only thing in their favor so far was the fact that the beds had wheels so moving their loved ones wouldn't be such a chore.

Bobby left the room so he could flag down the paramedics and lead them through the building.

A moan caught Dean's attention. On the floor, James started to stir. Marie helped him to his feet. Confusion couldn't even begin to describe the bewildered look on his face. He had lost over twenty years of his life and now he was waking up in a room full of strangers. He didn't even recognize Marie as his daughter. He didn't know Anne and Mark were dead.

"What? Where am I?"

"It's okay, man," said Dean, still sitting next to Sam. "James, right?" James nodded hesitantly. "You're among friends. We're all hunters, and we know you're a hunter too. Trust me, we'll explain everything later, but right now we've got to get out of here." He turned his attention to the family who had been possessed. "What's your name, man?"

"David," the father answered.

"Okay, David, I need you to follow us. We've got an ambulance on the way. Can you pick up your family and follow?"

David nodded in response, but still looked like he was in a daze. He lifted his wife off the floor and the older daughter started picking up her younger brother. She was almost ten years his senior, but he was taller than her, like Sam was taller than Dean. It was strenuous just lifting him. There was no way she could carry him through the whole prison. Still looking befuddled, James crossed the room to Lia's side and picked up Kyle. He handled the boy's weight ten times better.

Three paramedics entered the room with Bobby in tow. Bobby must have brought them up to speed because one paramedic was pushing a third stretcher. The one with the stretcher went to the family and the other two went to Lee and Sam. They first talked into speakers latched to their shoulders, dispatching critical information about each patient's condition to the ambulance driver and the medical personnel at the hospital. Soon, the third stretcher was loaded with the wife's body and they were wheeling the three beds out of the room while Bobby carried Catherine and Marie assisted Dean. After handing Kyle to his father, James took up the rear of the parade of hunters.

Outside, Sam and Lee were loaded into the ambulance first thing. The other hunters took advantage of the paramedics' distraction as they hooked Sam and Lee up to IVs and what other lifesaving tactics were needed during transport. Bobby loaded Catherine's body in the backseat of Marie's car. He ordered James to get in the passenger seat.

"See you at the hospital," Bobby said as Marie got in her driver's seat. She didn't care if the paramedics disliked her leaving; she had to find a place to burn her sister privately. She didn't want her body going to a hospital morgue. It wasn't the hunter way.

Bobby got in the Impala. Dean was already in the passage seat. He couldn't drive his baby with a broken right foot; he had to leave that up to Bobby. The caravan took off with the ambulance in the lead, the family's car next, and the Impala bring up the rear. Marie and James were already a couple miles away.

Again Marie had to burn a loved one. She had already cried a great deal as her and James had stacked the wood, so now she just felt numb. This shouldn't be happening. She shouldn't be burning her baby sister first. It should be the other way around.

James flicked the lighter in his hand.

"Hang on," Marie requested.

James let the flame go out.

Marie brought out the ring in her pocket. The setting sunlight illuminated the tiny diamond. It would be wonderful to keep the ring because it reminded her of her mother, but she had given it to Catherine years ago. Her baby sister should keep it. If Heaven existed then maybe she could give it back to their mother there.

Marie lifted Catherine's cooling finger and slipped on the ring. Giving that ring to her had meant a lot to Marie. It symbolized a normal life in which something other than weapons and demon lore could be passed down through generations. No matter how many demons Catherine had "ganked" in her lifetime, no matter how many ghosts she had burned, no matter how many successful hunts she accomplished, she was still just Marie's baby sister. She knew how to best anyone with any knife or sword and had won countless fights against Marie, but she was still the little sister who she taught to put on makeup and French-braid her hair. She would forever be the baby she held in her seven-year-old arms. The youngest sister she had lulled to sleep with nursery rhymes; the unsure five-year-old tightly clutching her big sister's hand on the first day of school. Yes, she had been a hell of a hunter, but she had been her baby sister first and foremost.

She was now dead. Marie had failed to protect her.

She angrily ripped the lighter from James' hand, flicked it, and threw it onto Catherine's body.

It was all too final; her sister's life had been way too short.

Tears made of half anger and half grief filled her eyes. She threw her arms around James and cried into his shoulder.

This surprised him. The only thing he knew about this woman was the fact that she had just burned her sister. His most recent memory of her was a seven-year-old child. He didn't know this grown woman. He put a timid arm around her, attempting to comfort her. He never thought of pushing her away as she cried. Grief was universal. He didn't have to know her to understand her pain.

Once her tears were spent a second time she released her father and stared into the flames.

"She was your daughter," Marie announced.

Different emotions showed on James' face: shock, disappointment, sadness, realization.

"She was still a baby when you left."

Marie didn't have to comment further. James knew what she wasn't saying. His youngest daughter had never gotten to know him and now he would never get to know her. Catherine had never known either of her parents, and now neither would know her.

Dean hadn't been there long, but being confined to his hospital bed was already torturous. He sat there impatiently waiting to hear word about Sam and Lee while James and Marie were away burning Catherine's body. Every minute felt like ten minutes. Two police officers had questioned him just after his ankle had been bandaged. Through the haze of painkillers, Dean had given an edited version of what happened. Dean knew as soon as they were healed, he, Bobby, and Sam would have to get back to Sioux Falls quickly and quietly. They would take some quiet downtime while things blew over.

Bobby had already demon-proofed the room and now sat quietly by Dean's bedside.

When the doctor finally entered, relief washed over Dean.

"They're both stable. We had to reclose Ms. Evans incisions and something fractured two of her ribs, some type of intense impact. Mr. Winchester had multiple cuts that needed stitches. His midsection is going to be very sore for the next few days. We'll need to keep them both overnight. When they go home they'll need pain medication and antibiotics. Until then, it's best they get as much rest as possible. They're in their rooms now if you want to visit. Mr. Winchester is in room 613 and Ms. Evans is in room 1016."

Dean nodded. "Thanks, doc." He rubbed his hand over his face. The past twenty-four hours had been a serious kick in the ass.

Now that Sam was in his room, Dean had to see him. He picked up the pair of crutches next to his bed and started slowly down the hall. Bobby tried to help him, but Dean shooed him away.

"I got this, Bobby." He hadn't meant to sound so cranky but Bobby didn't take it personally.

The two hunters took the elevator down from the ninth floor to the sixth. Room 613 was down the hall off the elevator. Dean hobbled inside and Bobby pulled up a chair for him next to the bed.

"I'll give you some time alone and go check on the girls." Bobby exited without another word.

Sam was sleeping, locked in unconsciousness induced by medication. The cut on his cheek had a clear medical strip over the stitches. He was going to have a scare on his face for the rest of his life; a scar that Dean had put there.

A wave of guilt overcame. He knew he wasn't the one really responsible for Sam's wounds, but he couldn't help feeling at fault. He knew he couldn't have stopped the situation; no matter how much he resisted the witch would still have manipulated him like a puppet on strings, but he couldn't forget the feeling of the knife sliding across his brother's flesh. He would never forget Sammy's screams. It would be damn near impossible shoving down this memory because the scar on Sam's face would remind him for the rest of his life.

The subtle sound of wings and air moving filled the room. Dean looked to his right and saw Castiel standing beside him. For a second he was stunned then the next second he was pissed. Without thinking, he punched Cas in the kidney harder than he would punch Sam for taking his car. A second later his hand felt like it was broken.

He cradled his fist in his other hand while waiting for the agony to subside.

"Why didn't you come when I called, you dick?"

"I'm in the middle of a civil war. I wanted to come, but one of Raphael's followers and I were in the middle of…" his constantly stern expression didn't falter as he searched for the right word, "confrontation," Cas responded matter-of-factly.

"Sam could have died! Lee could have died! Marie already burned Catherine's body!" Dean turned away, feeling too furious to even look at the angel. "We were ass deep in demons, and you couldn't even take a second to help."

"I couldn't help them, but I'm here now." Cas quietly walked up to Sam's hospital bed and touched his head with two fingers. Instantly, all his wounds disappeared. "He's fine now. I'll heal Lee too."

"Thank you." But, the tone in Dean's voice was still had anger around the edges.

There was a long, heavy pause. When Dean turned back around he was actually comforted to see Cas had disappeared. He was still too angry. The angel's neglect was very uncharacteristic. Yeah, Cas could be a dick sometimes, but even he knew this was the absolute wrong time, that his friends' lives had depended on his help and he had failed to show when they needed him the most.

Over the next week, Bobby's house was fuller than ever while the Evans stayed. Marie and Lee got to know their father more with each passing day. The conversation was strained some of the time even though the sisters knew nothing was James' fault, that he couldn't control himself when he was possessed. Still, with Catherine dead and everything else that had happen, their relationship was still extremely fragile. There was a big difference between the little girls he left behind and the grown woman now. It would take a long time for the three to heal.

Once back in Sioux Falls, their first order of business was to get James an anti-possession tattoo. He had never gotten a tattoo in his life, but agreed without hesitation, willing to do anything not to lose another twenty years. A couple hours later he returned with a freshly bandaged tattoo on his upper arm identical to Sam and Dean's.

Marie woke a couple nights later on the mattress in the kitchen and found the opposite side vacant. She peeked into the study, but only saw Dean on the couch, Sam on the floor to one side, and James on the floor nearby. She chuckled to herself. Dean had rubbed it in big time when he won rock-paper-scissors. He had slept on the floor all week, and finally he got the couch.

Marie checked outside and found Lee sitting on one of Bobby's broken cars and drinking a beer. She hopped on the hood next to her.

"Your incisions bothering you?"

"No." She took a sip of beer. She still had her surgical cuts. Cas completely fixed the damage, but left the healed incisions themselves because Marie had demanded it. She knew her sister wanted to keep her scars, that she was proud of them. They represented her struggle to survive. She was proud to be a hunter who could also handle Hydrocephalus and never viewed herself as weaker than any other hunter.

"You're going to tell me what's wrong?" Marie asked.

Lee took another sip and looked at the ground. Marie could tell she was trying to keep her emotions under control. "I…I killed Catherine."

Marie's face fell. Lee hadn't talked about Catherine all week. "No you didn't," Marie countered bluntly. "You were possessed; you had no control over your actions."

"I know… But, that still doesn't make things better. I remember bits and pieces. I remember shoving that knife into her." Tears were filling Lee's eyes. A tear fell as she took a few long sips of beer. "Nothing is ever going to erase that fact."

"If we kill the demon responsible, it might. That might numb some of the pain." Marie put her arm around Lee. "It's okay to feel this way. I'm mad as hell too. I really miss her; God knows how much I miss her. Catherine would want us to keep hunting, but before we can we have to mourn. We may be hunters, but we're still just human."

"Yeah," was all Lee could say. She wiped away a tear. Bitterness still consumed her. She shouldn't have to mourn anyone.

She pondered about what Marie just said. Yeah, she was angry too, but she knew that was just part of the grieving process. Being angry wasn't enough, though. No emotion was going to bring Catherine back. The only thing that mattered was righting the wrong. No matter how much it took, she would dole out whatever revenge was deserved. She swore revenge on Catherine's life. So what if her family wanted to keep her safe; so what if she was forbidden to learn harmful and dangerous spells? She couldn't afford to be protected anymore. Not if she wanted revenge. Eradicating the demons responsible was going to take all the power she could muster.

Sam took the newspaper from Dean's hands and examined the obituary his brother pointed out. "Dude got his guts ripped out, full-on horror movie style."

"So what do you think," asked Sam. "Werewolf?"

"It didn't say if his heart was missing or not. Sound like a hunt to you?"

"Before you idgits run off, don't forget about our biggest problem," Bobby interrupted from his desk. Marie and Lee were sitting on the floor studying Bobby's wealth of demon information, but glanced up in interest. James appeared in the wide threshold, leaning against the doorframe and crossed his arms. "We only exercised those demons, so they're still out there. I got a call from Matthew and Garth. Tim's dead."

This caught Sam's attention. He remembered Tim and his hunter buddies finding him at the bar where he had worked for a short time. He recalled Tim's disappointment when he told the hunters he couldn't help, and later, his anger when Tim told him his best friend was killed. Tim discovered that Sam drank demon's blood, that it made him strong and powerful. In attempt to avenge his friend's death, Tim and the other hunters held Sam down and tried forcing demon blood down his throat. Still, Sam didn't stay angry at Tim for long. And he certainly didn't think he deserved to die.

Bobby glanced at Lee and Marie, "You girls should stick around till these vengeful demons are sent back to Hell. If they're hunting hunters then here is safer. We need strength in numbers right now."

Both Lee and Marie nodded. They had no home to go to anyway. They would hunt together and this time they would kill those sons-of-bitches who killed Catherine.