Chapter 2

Grace

I held Charlie and Faith in my lap as I pressed my phone between my ear and shoulder and watched Emery dance around with Glory and Liberty. As it rang, I did what I could to stay focused on the task in front of me; call as many hunters as I could, gathering them to help. I knew there was no way that we would be able to fight this war by ourselves. We had no idea what we were up against and we needed all hands on deck.

"How did you get this number?" a harsh, heavily accented male voice came through the speaker of my phone, jarring me out of my thoughts.

I took a deep breath and shook my head, "Um, hi," I stuttered. "Tulley?"

"Who is this?"

Closing my eyes to focus, I steadied my voice. "Tulley, this is Grace Win—Browning. Grace Browning. We worked together up in Portland a few times? My dad was Truman Browning?"

The paused over the phone was almost more than I could take, and I held onto the babies as comfort as I waited. "Truman Browning?" Tulley's voice echoed. "What do you mean 'was'?"

"He's been dead for about fifteen years, now."

Tulley was a rugged, older hunter from Alaska, famous for tracking and hunting werewolves in the north. The man was obnoxiously huge and I idly wondered how small Sammy would look standing next to him. "Well," he answered, clearing his throat, "Guess I will forgive him for not keeping in touch."

I took a deep breath and fought the giggle that threatened to escape my throat. "That's good of you," I answered.

"I am guessing you did not call to catch up," Tulley sighed, grunting slightly as he collapsed into a sitting position. "What is it you want, girl?"

"Well," I made a face, "it's not what I want, per se. It's what I need."

"You are wasting my time."

Clicking my tongue, I got right down to it, "Tulley, we're up against something big. Bigger than we ever have in the past and we're calling in all our favors. You up for it?"

Tulley seemed to consider it momentarily, breathing heavily into the phone as he thought. "I get to kill something, yes? Been awhile since I get to kill something."

"Sure," I shrugged. "Just don't kill any of my people."

"When?"

"Tomorrow too soon?"

Smiling from behind his long salt and peppered beard, Tulley nodded slowly, the beginning of a smile tugging at his lips. "I remember always liking you, Grace Browning. You have the backbone no one has anymore. I will dust off old gear," he continued. "Going take me a few days to get down there. Too big to fly, you know."

I nodded, not bothering to answer.

"You are still in Kansas?"

"I'll text you the address," I replied, smiling as I drew a star next to Tulley's name on my list. "See you soon, Tulley."

Dean leaned against the doorframe of the hospital's ICU nurses' station, extending a cup of coffee to Alana. She smiled her thanks and took a deep breath, "You wanna catch me up, now?" she asked gently. "Tell me how Serra ended up with a collapsed lung, four broken ribs, and three crushed vertebrae?"

Licking his lips, Dean avoided her gaze, taking a sip of his own coffee instead. "There's a lot of shit going down right now, Alana. A lot of really big shit," he whispered from behind his coffee cup.

"I gathered that."

Knowing that he wasn't going to get off that easy, Dean took a deep breath and turned to face the nurse, bracing himself as he lowered his voice to speak. "There's this new player; Delilah. She showed up when we took a case in Holden, Maine and she's more powerful than we anticipated, especially for a witch."

"You're on a literal witch hunt?" Alana asked, raising her eyebrows and staring up at Dean. "That's insane."

Nodding, Dean continued, "That storm wasn't just a storm. You guys had thunderstorms, but the ranch got a tornado." He took another sip of his coffee. "Serra got it in her mind that she had to go out for the animals; it's like she was obsessed with it, wouldn't let it go. The next thing you know, there's a fucking tornado in my backyard and lightning struck, bringing down half of the oak tree…"

Alana nodded, completely immersed in the story. "The branch fell on her," Alana supplied. "I came to that conclusion when we pulled a wood splinter the size of my arm from her chest."

"It wasn't just a storm, Alana. That tornado was a spell."

She was silent for more than a few minutes and finally, Alana took a breath, shaking her head slowly. "A spell," she began, "she sounds pretty powerful, this Delilah."

"She took my kid," Dean grunted, staring down the hallway. His eyes were red and glazed over, lost in thought. "She took both our kids."

Whipping around to face him, Alana's brown eyes were wide. "Who?"

Dean's voice was no more than a whisper. "Everett and Levi," he answered, still hiding behind his coffee cup. "They're gone, Serra's hooked up to a ventilator, Grace has lost most of her mojo, and now we're just in this fucking holding pattern because the angels are useless right now, too." He took another drink and tossed his empty coffee cup into the trash can, shaking his head. "I don't even know where to start."

"That's why you haven't had Castiel in here to heal Serra," Alana replied, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "I wondered. Where is he?"

"He and Lucia both are in a teenager's subconscious, trying to learn who she really is."

Nodding slowly with wide eyes, Alana tried to wrap her head around the information Dean was giving her. "In her subconscious," she repeated. "That's new."

"Yeah."

Slowly, Alana reached her hand up to Dean's shoulder, trying to console her friend the best way she could. "You guys are strong, Dean," she began quietly. "You've been through a lot and always come out on top. It'll be okay."

Dean pressed his tongue against the back of his teeth and tried to agree.

Tears welled in Alana's eyes, remembering that both Everett and Levi were missing. "You'll be okay. You'll all be okay," she repeated, pulling Dean into a hug. Slowly, he accepted, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and closing his eyes. "If you need anything else, you let me-"

"What is that?" Dean asked suddenly, interrupting her sentiment. He pulled away from Alana, pointing to the computer screen that was on the counter in the nurses' station.

Turning, Alana followed his line of sight and watched the black and white screen illuminate with a blinding amount of light. "That's the security feed from the ICU," Alana murmured. "That's Serra's hallway."

Dean approached the screen quickly, staring at the feed. Impossibly, the light seemed to get brighter and brighter until he could barely watch without squinting, then, one after another, the fluorescent light bulbs began to explode from the ceiling, glass flying in all directions. Without another moment's hesitation, Dean turned and took off like a shot, running full tilt down the hall towards his sister-in-law's hospital room.

Grace

I had developed an annoying habit of pacing around the house while I made phone call after phone call, hoping I would be able to get in touch with more hunters that my family had crossed paths with in the height of our hunting days. I crossed a few more names off my list, either because people were dead or missing, (a common problem for hunters), but more often than not, if they had survived, the hunters that my dad knew were just out of the game, on account of age. I was down to the last two names on my list.

As the phone rang, I closed my eyes, hoping that Santiago Adaka'i was still alive.

"Grace Browning," a quiet voice answered calmly. "How the hell are you?"

I closed my eyes at the greeting, hoping that I would be able to keep my voice steady. "Santi," I whispered. "I am so glad that you picked up the phone."

Chuckling softly, Santiago sounded like he was getting comfortable in order to talk with me. I wondered momentarily how much he had changed since the last time I had seen him.

"You know, Grace," he continued quietly, "this is not my phone any longer. I kept it just for moments like this."

"You kept your phone number just in case I called?"

Santiago smiled, "You are a hard person to forget, Grace."

I could feel the blush in my cheeks, remembering the flirtation that Santiago and I shared from all those years ago. We had never had a relationship, or anything even close, but his brother Miguel and Serra had been hot for about two weeks, when she was busy punishing me by running away after Dad was killed.

"Well, Santi, as flattering as that is, I called for a reason," I continued.

He clicked his tongue, "I have already heard. Peter called me."

I pressed my lips together, shaking my head and staring at my list of hunters. Peter Hillenbrand had yet to call me back after leaving a message almost twenty-four hours ago. Bastard.

"And what did that asshole have to say?" I said, crossing Peter's name off the list with three harsh, page-tearing pen scratches.

Santiago laughed, "Calm down. He wanted to know if you had called us yet. I told him that I hadn't heard from you yet and that he should probably call you back."

I clicked my tongue. "Yeah, well," I answered, my immediate rage fading, for the moment. It always seemed to be right near the surface lately and I was having a hell of a time controlling it. "I'm calling everyone."

"And you finally got to my name on your list?"

I pushed the pad of paper away from my hand, shaking my head. Santiago knew me better than I thought. "Yeah," I paused, trying to figure out the best way to approach what I needed. "I'm calling because-"

"Because you need our help," Santiago supplied. "Peter told us the message you left." I nodded in reply, even though he couldn't see me. "What is this new 'big bad' that you told him about?"

"She's a real piece of work, Santi," I sighed, glancing up at my daughters as they walked in the back door with Emery and Jody. "We think she's a witch, but she is more powerful than any witch that any of us have ever come up against." I waited until the girls filed downstairs into the basement before I continued. "She almost killed Serra and then took my son and nephew. They're still missing."

"Dios mio," Santiago breathed. "What do you need me to do?"

I took a deep breath, grateful for my unwavering friendship with Santiago, no matter the amount of time that had passed. "I need you to gather everyone you can get. Grab your cousins, friends, anyone that is willing to come. We need you," I whispered. "I need you."

"I'm coming, Grace. We're all coming."