Chapter Two
Dean yawned and looked though his window at the dark house. He turned his head and looked down at his baby sister. She was laying knees curled up and braced against the passenger door while her head dipped down. Poor girl after about seventeen had shot up in a massive growth spurt, and hadn't stopped. Dean had been surprised when she had surpassed him in height (it was only an inch or two, but older was supposed to be taller right?).
Dean tapped at the clock on the radio willing it to be morning. It was only eleven fifteen and he was exhausted. Sometimes he wished he could start a union for hunters to fix the hours. Turn it into a regular nine to nine job, let the monsters and ghosts give them holidays and vacation hours. His exhausted mind started playing dialog in his head between hunter and monster to keep awake. Tomorrow is Labor Day so we are going to have to postpone this fight werewolf. No I can't do Thursday poltergeist, can we move the schedule up to Saturday? Not only would it benefit the hunters, but the monsters could take time to barbeque and relax too.
Sam stirred next to him and broke him off from his addled thoughts. She untangled herself and sat up stretching the best she could in the cramped car. "Any movement?"
"No, haven't seen a thing." Dean sighed scrubbing his face. "Not that this does us any good. Super Strong and Super Speed could already be here and gone."
"Why don't you try getting some sleep? I can keep watch." Sam offered.
Dean was about to decline the offer. She was the younger sister, she should get more sleep. The second the thought crossed into his head was the argument. Equals. She was a partner, not something he needed to dote on, well at least all of the time. "Yeah, I could probably do with a little shut eye. Wake me the second you see anything."
He pulled down the back of the seat and draped an arm over his eyes. He wasn't sure when he dozed off, but Sam pulled him out of an awesome dream involving Sandra; a blond cheerleader from one of the many high schools the siblings had populated.
"Dean! He's here!"
Dean snapped up and found the seat next to him being abandoned, and the door slamming. Before Dean could tell her to stop she was running across the street at the bulky shape standing at the entrance of Ashton's home the door smashed down in bits around him. The figure seemed to be distressed banging on his head, and grunting in pain.
It didn't even appear to notice Sam until she brought up her weapon and smashed the butt of her gun into the face of the man. He didn't even flinch. He threw a punch at Sam's jaw and she went down, sliding along the grass.
"Sam!" Dean rushed out of the car and ran across the street. He brought his gun up as he ran and not caring about the noise it would make, fired a shot into the man's approximate forehead. Even though he couldn't see with the hood up, he was sure it had been a definite hit, but the man still remained up standing. It had done enough though. Now attention was focused on him, and not his prone baby sister.
"Hey ugly, you have the hood up to hide your face?" Dean ground out not putting down his weapon. He ignored the lights of the houses around him turning on, and front doors cautiously opening. "What did you do to Ashton? Huh? What did you do you son of a bitch?"
The hooded man turned his head to look at both the neighbors and the hunter. A little crowd was beginning to form across the street; some men were getting braver and starting to cross.
"You think you can just come in and swipe women away, and pound in their man's heads." Dean growled, gauging the man's actions. He seemed to hesitate, moaning and hitting his head. Dean thought for a second he was going to stand down when his demeanor changed entirely.
The man roared, and rushed toward Dean, but Sam popped up behind him, her jaw already coloring. She wrapped her arms around his neck trying to use her weight to drag down the ample built man, meanwhile sliding a silver blade down his arm. He threw her off again, but not until the hood fell off and revealed his face. Dean stopped and his gun slowly lowered in shock.
"No way." Dean said in shock. He caught his sister's glance, and at once Sam knew something was wrong.
Whoever it was, knew he was caught in the middle of the neighborhoods attention, and with an incredible speed sped off down the sidewalk away from the house.
Dean helped Sammy up, "well things just got complicated."
Police had shown up and inspected the scene fifteen minutes later. As the siblings feared Ashton Harkness was dead, head smashed in, just like the other victims significant others. Sam and Dean had been questioned thoroughly on sight and nearly dragged to the station, but with the stories of the neighbors they were cleared. The department wasn't so sure that Ashton had been crazy. About a dozen other people that night had seen the same hooded man, with a large build.
After given a warning and a promise for a follow up, Sam and Dean were free to go on their own way. A few of the neighbors even had applauded them, thanked them even for trying to protect their neighbor.
It wasn't until Dean had Sam in the motel room, a bag of ice sitting on her jaw that Dean finally spoke to her about the situation.
"What the hell were you thinking Sam? Smacking the thing with your gun, that's child's play." Dean sighed pulling a beer from the cooler. He frowned when he saw it was the last one and made a mental note to make a run.
"I thought that I could bring it down at least. See what we were dealing with. I'm not just going to shoot first." Sam put the ice pack down and poked at the bruise. "Besides, you have more to explain. What was it? I know you got a look at the thing."
Dean grabbed her hand and pushed the ice pack back in its place. "Stop that! And it really wasn't a what. Remember Megan Winters?"
"Yeah, she was the first victim." Sam frowned, the motion hurting.
"Well the thing was Maxwell Powers, her abusive boyfriend. And from the state of him, I would guess he's dead." Dean tipped his head back downing half of the beer.
Sam wasn't sure what to say. She finally ran through what her brother had just said through her head and processed the words. "Of course he's dead. They found his body and identified it. His head was smashed in, and remember his genitals, those had been ripped off."
"Well, it was Maxwell Powers, but his face was back though a little caved in, and his ear was kind of hanging off. I think he might be-"
"A zombie Dean? Is that what you're about to say. Why would Powers kidnap his girlfriend, then, here's the kicker then kill himself." Sam scoffed lightly rubbing softly at her jaw. "How could he even revive himself?"
"It could be a shapeshifter." Dean sat down and scrubbed at his five o clock shadow. Sam just picked up a silver blade from the bed and waved it the blood still fresh. "I don't know Sammy. We deal with the impossible. Certainly though there is voodoo and witchcraft spells, known to raise the dead."
"Witchcraft?" Sam asked more to herself than Dean. He saw the wheels turning in her Ivy League noggin and knew she was spinning around concepts.
He took another sip and waited patiently.
"When I was on his back, he did smell strongly of coriander." Sam said standing up and dropping the ice bag. "What if this is witchcraft. Megan Winters for some reason starts talking about the abuse she receives at home and the witch hears. So for her own safety she takes the woman out of the situation and kills Powers."
"Why then, destroy Power's manhood, and not the other men?" Dean asked.
"Since Megan appears to be the first, and he was the worst abuser; the witch probably took out a little more fury on him. Used necromancy so she could resurrect Powers and use him to save other women and not have to do the dirty work herself," Sam frowned. "All of this is still highly theoretical."
Dean shrugged. "Better than where we were a day ago. Let me give Bobby a call and run the theory by him."
Based off of Bobby's reaction it seemed promising. There was no sarcasm, no idjits, nothing to suggest that they had gone off the deep end with their concept. Bobby just started to hum mid way through their explanation and shift through a few books. When they finished he was still flipping pages. "Well that is certainly possible. In fact Caleb was in Dallas barely two months ago, taking care of a coven."
"Timeline certainly fits, Winters disappeared just month ago. This witch could be helping the women, and reassembling her coven." Sam leaned her elbow on the circular table to lean closer to the phone on speaker.
"Why abused women?" Dean asked more for himself. "Why not just go for the typical house wife, they seem easy enough to fool."
Sam ignored the sexist comment. "Girl power? Maybe she was abused herself and she doesn't only want to help she wants to start the coven with survivors of abuse."
"That could take a while though." Bobby said through the line. "Abuse does something to your head; it conditions you to think the worst about yourself, and leaves you with a lack of confidence. The ideal coven should be full of strong women, and abused women don't turn into that overnight."
Dean exchanged a glance with Sam. Before Dean could ask, Sam cleared her throat, with a direct look at her brother. "Besides Rachel Dashner, was not abused by her boyfriend. In fact according to everyone around them they were a pretty solid couple." She thought hard for a second. "Dashner would have to be stowed and brain washed somewhere with the other women, only where does a traveling witch keep three people."
Still sour from the interruption Dean leaned back in the uncomfortable chair. "I don't know. How do you travel from Dallas to Sherman Texas without hearing screams, allowing for bathroom breaks, feeding them, and giving them water?"
"She could be toting them around in a van, or a trailer. She could be looking to take root in a small town somewhere no one knows your face. Then start the conditioning." Bobby added.
"Well and look at her rate of travel. She's headed north to Oklahoma. Two weeks in Lewisville, then she kidnaps a woman and leaves, one week in Sherman, then she takes someone else. She could be doing just what we do when we get stuck with a lack of funds in the middle of nowhere." Sam though out loud.
"We stay for a little while, get a short term job, hustle up some cash for gas and food for the road, and then hightail it out of there."
Sam smirked. "So she's broke trying to find a home."
"Listen to me. You two take care, I'll look more into necromancy and see if there is a way to stop Power's again. Meanwhile watch out, he can't be taken out the traditional way, and anything that you do to injure him can and will be sewn up and fixed." Bobby warned the two.
"Great, so lob off an arm and the bitch just finds another one." Dean complained.
"I'm serious, be careful." The call ended, and Dean scooped up his phone to disconnect from his end.
xxxOOOxxx
Sam sat at the bar ignoring any stares aimed her way. She was certain, although she had gussied up a bit for the trip, she like a train wreck. She was sporting a small lump on her forehead, her jaw was bruised, and her arm if the sleeves shifted up far enough showed the Slayers handiwork. Typically she would use Dean, or her left hook to push guys away from her, but no one wanted to hit on her that night.
The phone rang and Sam picked it up, before she even read the id. "So you check the graves?" She asked her fingernail raking at the bottle of beer in front of her.
"Yeah I checked them. 64 miles, and three hours of my life wasted driving and digging up graves but yes. In Lewisville William Colt is still there, face in pieces. Meanwhile Maxwell Powers, as I already freaking told you has been dug up already. The dirt around his grave has been dug up in the last month or so."
Sam sighed and rubbed her head, the headaches were coming back. She slipped her hand in her pocket and slipped out two Tylenol. She downed the tablets with her beer. "Yeah well, I check with the bartenders in both Lewisville, and Shelton. In both instances there was a female bartender who worked there for a short time, then upped and left. In both cases several of her coworkers remember her helping both Maya, and Rachel and her boyfriend."
She gave another sigh willing the pain pills to take effect. "Where are you now anyways?"
"I'm about Halfway there, just passed McKinney. Hey you don't sound too good, how's your head?" Dean bit through the line worry in his tone.
"I'm fine Dean."
"Fine my ass, in the short span of a week you have had two individual head wounds. Have you taken any pain meds?"
She chuckled into the line. "Partner, Dean."
"Yeah well, Partner mode is off, this is big brother mode. Have you taken at least a Tylenol, or gotten any shut eye?"
"Just took two, and leaving the bar shortly. I was trying to see if our bartender would show up, but so far squat." She tipped her head back and finished the contents of the bottle before continuing. "I think she left town, and we won't catch up to her until she grabs another girl."
"Well isn't that just friggen perfect." Dean ground.
Sam watched as couples two stepped on the dance floor to a Keith Urban song. "Yeah well, Power's certainly surprised us didn't he? We were not expecting him to use the back door and stumble out the front."
"Well, that wasn't quite the plan. He sort of improvised." A woman leaned down and took up the phone Sam had against her ear. Sam looked up at the short, dark haired bartender that waved the phone tauntingly in the air. She pressed the phone to her ear and in a sickly sweet tone informed Dean that Sam was busy. She hung up the line and put the phone on the table before joining the hunter at her table. "This seat isn't taken, is it sugar?"
"By all means." Sam's demeanor remained calm but inside her heart started to pound out one of Dean's Metallica songs. "To what do I owe this honor?"
The witch cocked her ear up as if listening to some far off music, and gave a laugh. Sam realized with a start that she was listening to her heart beat. "Calm down Winchester. This is a public place. If I had come to kill you-" She leaned forward and smiled a little too widely. "-I would have done it already."
"How do you know who I am?" Sam bit out a little more hoarsely than she intended. The phone on the table started to ring again and Sam reached down to pick it up, but the Witch splayed her hand and the phone by some unseen force was dragged out of her reach and onto the floor.
"Oh please Samantha. Your daddy was quite the hunter; every being out there knows the Winchester family. In fact, I have kept up tabs with you for a while. I was proud of you; heard through the grapevine that you had escaped this world, gone Apple Pie." She waved a hand up and ordered a martini from a passing waitress.
"Names Sam and why would my escape entertain your fancy?" Sam asked giving a little breathy laugh.
At the correction the witch looked appalled. "Sam is a boy's name. Samantha holds far more power and grace than Sam; but I guess being raised by men in a man's world does confuse a woman."
"Mans world?" Sam asked with a scoff. "Hunting isn't just for the men. I knew a few women pretty on par with Dad growing up."
The witch laughed again this time with a little more shock. "Please, women carry power, and men carry guns to imitate the feel of power. What I was proud of my girl, is that you chose the route of wisdom. Stanford is a top notch school, and in its early days women rarely graced its ancient halls."
Sam waited patiently while the waitress returned with a martini. It wasn't until the waitress was gone that Sam finally spoke up. "Look, don't get me wrong. The first two asshats, kind of had it coming. I mean I knew a girl who was beaten and raped by her father a long time ago, and trust me that ruffled my feathers too. But this feminism crap, is no excuse for kidnap and murder. You need to let those poor girls go."
"Let them go?" The woman brought up her drink and took a sip cooing at her content. "Why would I do that? Those girls were distressed, they were powerless. Megan, lived in fear of her bastard boyfriend, and Maya well you should have heard some of the stories that she told that night at the bar. What I am doing is making them stronger. I am taking away their fear, and I am going to build them back up again. Make them strong."
"You were wrong about Rachel though. Her boyfriend wasn't abusing her; all you witnessed was trouble with her brother, and an unfortunate fight at the bar that night." Sam growled. "You killed an innocent man."
"Men innocent. Even if I hadn't done all the fact checking I am fairly certain, that man had sins up to his head. Rachel is better off being away from both her brother, and her boyfriend." She swirled the drink around and watched as the light seemed to color the liquid in the clear glass. "However riveting this conversation is Samantha that is not why I am here."
"I assume it's to find a new member and some unlucky man."
"Well your half right." The woman put down the drink on the table. "I have come for a new recruit, and that would be you."
Sam snorted, and nearly choked on her beer. "Oh yeah. And why on earth would I ever agree to join a witch's coven. You said it yourself I'm a born and raised hunter. What good are they in your world?"
"Hunter thing is just a technicality. You Samantha, you are a special one. Of all of your family you have been the strongest. The most underestimated I'll admit, but the strongest none the less. And I know that between your hard ass father, and your brain dead brother, you-" The woman pointed to Sam. Her nail was perfectly shaped and painted. "You Samantha are the smartest of the three."
She took a final sip of the martini and picked up the olive and put it in her mouth, swallowing even the pit. "I'm sure you picked up Latin faster than your dad could have imagined. Probably are read up on a few spells, just for hunting sakes. I'm sure that you were at the library the most too, reading up on ancient civilizations, unique cultures in the 17th century, anything to help the two meat heads."
"Now I won't deny that I am quite the brain." Sam smirked. "But what makes you think that I would ever want to join your coven?"
"Intuition." The witch smiled and flicked up a business card mysteriously out from nowhere. "Both you and I know that you are more capable of doing more than what you are doing now, and your getting tired of playing second fiddle to your older brother. I mean soldier boy certainly can kill your wonderful creativity."
Sam opened her mouth to say something but the witch silenced her. "I don't want your answer now. I'm sure that you would say something that you would surely regret. Take the card; it has my number only on it. You get one chance to answer, and afterwards, if you choose wrong it is not my fault for the consequences."
She lifted her hand and Sam's cell phone came floating up. A nearby drunk gawked as it landed neatly in the witches' palm. She laid the card on top of the hunter's phone and slid it back over with a delicate finger. "Give me a call, whenever you are ready."
The phone was buzzing and ringing franticly again, but Sam didn't go for it. She watched as the witch stood up and walked out of the bar the eyes of all the men riveted on the sight as well.
A/N- Thank you for the reviews on both stories. I really appreciate hearing from everyone. Don't be afraid though if you notice anything wrong or anything that doesn't add up. I already have read through the chapters I have posted (on both stories) and found a few stupid mistakes. Thank you again.