Chapter 3
Winds whipped over the Scottish hillside and howled through the craggily rocks near the shoreline. The sea spray pummeled her, but she stayed solid in her footing as she made her way to the caves at the end of the beach, where he was waiting for her.
It had been years of waiting, of toiling, to get all of the ingredients and incantations to the spell that would bring him back to her, and she knew, after tonight, it will have been all worth it. Together, they would be able to take the next steps into complete control. Her only regret was that she was dependent on another for success.
Clutching the leather satchel closer to her chest, she finally waded through the ankle deep water in the tide pools near the mouth of the cave and climbed inside; the wind unsetting her balance only the slightest bit.
The distraction in Holden had gone well, better than she could have hoped. The coven had done as asked, and for the most part, she had gotten what she needed from the townspeople they had controlled. The Winchesters had taken the bait, as they always could be counted upon to do, and now, with the nephilim's blood, she would be able to finish what she started.
Wind thrashed through the opening of the cave and she struggled to keep her fiery red hair out of her mouth, but getting frustrated, she slammed her hand down on the boulder in front of her and the air in the cave stilled, as if it was holding its breath. She tilted her head and popped her neck, finally content in her surroundings. She would be better, still, if Winchester hadn't seen her. She preferred to remain mysterious.
Delilah's cutting green eyes surveyed the stones in front of her in order to find the flattest of the group. She would need to be able to spread out the spell and draw the summoning star if she hoped for success, but she was still distracted with thoughts of the teenager that had been with the Winchesters. She had looked into those brown eyes, through that mousey, limp brown hair and seen the truth of that girl. Whether she knew it or not, they had been reunited and it didn't suit Delilah's plans. Not a bit.
With any luck, she would be able to avoid Sabina, never cueing her memories, never begging for attention. If necessary, she could always just kill her, but the guilt she dealt with on a regular basis was already heavy. Currently, the only problem begging attention was the spell work in front of her. Bringing him back would satisfy her needs immediately. It had been too long since they had been together, too long since he cocked an eyebrow in approval at her cosmic abilities.
Drawing with the chalk from her leather bag, Delilah drew a circle around the eight-pointed star, connecting all of the corners and completing the first step of the spell. Quietly, she murmured the incantation, her voice getting lost in the massive cave behind her. The air was still, waiting. Closing her eyes, she held her left hand towards the smooth boulder in front of her and in her right hand; she held a vial containing a cotton swab of dried blood.
Repeating the incantation again and again, she opened her eyes to watch the eight-pointed star ignite into flames. Delilah allowed the cotton swab to drop into the center of the star, along with three other ingredients: a lock of short, dark brown hair, a bouquet of herbs, and what appeared to be some type of sandy soil, but it was so fine, some blew into the cave surrounding her.
All at once, the cave was bathed in a harsh, yellow light, as if the cavern itself was ablaze. Delilah refused to look away. Her ocean eyes narrowed against the brightness of the fire and she took a deep breath, hoping that her plan had worked. She held her breath when the luster was too bright to take, looking away at the last moment. Finally, the cavern went dark, darker than it had been when she had begun the spell and she held her breath. Delilah's ears burned, waiting for a sound, any sound that would prove her spell successful.
She could feel movement in the cave, very near to where she was standing. Her red hair still hung in perfect curls along the side of her face as she waited, her lips curving into a smile, feeling his presence once again. Delilah knew, deep in her blackened soul, that her spell had been successful.
"Hello, darling," a voice said into the pitch black of the cave, echoing slightly off its curved walls. "It's been far too long."
…
Grace sat up straighter on the couch, tilting her head and listening to something her brother-in-law was unable to hear. "Grace, you okay?" Sam asked as he took Charlotte from her arms.
She remained silent and stared at the carpet in front of her. Liberty, Grace and Dean's eldest daughter, moved towards her mother and rested a hand on her shoulder. "Momma?" she asked, watching her carefully. "What do you hear?"
Liberty closed her eyes and attempted to tap into Grace's thoughts. Her other children followed; Glory stood next to her sister, waiting patiently for information, Everett slinked closer to his sisters, but stayed hidden behind Liberty, and Faith was silent from her high chair, staring intently at her mother with her clear blue gaze.
"Nothing," Grace finally replied. "Just chatter." She smiled tightly and moved to stand from the couch, forcing Liberty to break her contact.
Not quite believing Grace, Sam pressed his lips together and furrowed his eyebrows. "You sure?" he asked, stepping aside to allow Grace to walk into the kitchen.
Turning to take a deep breath, she nodded. "I thought I heard my name," Grace answered. "But there are always so many voices, it's hard to tell the difference."
"You look tired," Sammy commented as he helped pick up the toys that were scattered through the living room.
"Thanks?" Grace answered, her voice full of sarcasm as she dumped a pile of Cheerios on Faith's high chair tray. "Your brother said the same thing this morning."
Sammy shrugged apologetically. "Sorry," he added. "I'm just not used to you moving slowly."
Taking a deep breath, Grace straightened her posture and held her head a little higher. "Seems everyone has the same opinion," she muttered. "I think I might just need a break."
Sammy pressed his lips together again, knowing how often they used Grace as a babysitter and feeling guilty. "Maybe me and Serra can watch the kids and you and Dean can go out for a night or something," he answered.
"I'd settle for getting my nails done," Grace replied. She shook her head, trying to dismiss the pity she felt for herself. "No," she sighed, "I'm fine. I'm feeling sorry for myself and it's unnecessary."
"It's valid," Sam said, watching her as she began to empty the dishwasher. "You're here every day, all day, surrounded by the kids. You have the right to be tired."
Grace clicked her tongue, "As your wife reminded me so gently this morning, I'm half angel. This shouldn't be a big deal."
Sammy simply stared.
"I know," Grace answered his thoughts. "It's been since Holden. Things are different and I don't know if it's because we're more aware of everything or if it's because of Sabina…" she faded off and turned to put three coffee mugs into the cupboard behind her, tripping on the mat in front of the kitchen sink. Grace shook her head at her clumsiness and continued. "Either way," she sighed, "I just feel like we're being targeted for something, but I can't put my finger on why."
"Targeted?"
Grace turned and gestured, still holding the dinner plates in her hands. "Sammy, think about it. You and Serra fight off a group of demons while we're in Maine, fighting a coven of witches! There has to be a reason they picked right then and there to attack. I still think they're connected."
"Me and Sere didn't fight off the demons," Sam corrected. "Lib, Faith, and Cas did."
"Don't get me started on that," Grace muttered. "Having my five-year-old and my infant fight off demons on their own is not something I'm ready to deal with."
Sam was silent again as Grace continued putting away dishes. Outside, they heard the telltale sound of the Impala's engine as Dean turned off the highway and drove up the gravel road to the Big House. Grace glanced at the clock above the coffee pot and shook her head, still muttering to herself.
"Wasn't he supposed to be home at four?" Sam asked, seeing that it was close to six.
Grace pressed her teeth together, but said nothing.
Dean's boot steps echoed off the wooden porch and he used his keys to let himself into the living room. "Hey," he greeted, glancing up at his brother and wife. "Sorry."
"It's almost six," Sam commented. "What gives?"
"I know, I know," Dean answered, glancing at Grace. "I'm just behind. Cas was there about two hours today, just shooting the shit and taking up time."
"I resent that," Cas' voice answered as he appeared in the dining room. "We were having a valuable discussion about Maine."
Grace sighed heavily; still putting dishes away as four of the six kids came running down the stairs in attempt to be the first to greet Dean.
"Calm down, guys," Dean grunted, picking up his two oldest girls. "Have you been driving Momma crazy?"
Glory smiled slyly and nodded slowly.
"Alright," Sam commented, turning towards Levi and scooping Charlie off the floor. "Let's go home, you two. Let Uncle Dean and Auntie Grace have some time together."
"Bye bye bye!" Glory cried, waving furiously from her father's arms. "Tomorrow, we see you!"
Levi waved over his shoulder as Sam ushered him out of the kitchen and Grace waved vaguely towards the back door. A timer announced itself with a shrilling ring and Grace turned, using the oven mitts to take a casserole out of the oven and set it on the stovetop to cool.
Staying silent to simply observe his wife, Dean set the girls down after kissing them both on the forehead. They wandered away to visit with Castiel and Dean meandered into the kitchen. "You mad at me?" he asked quietly. "You're quiet. Quiet is never a good sound with you."
"I'm not mad at you," Grace answered. "Just frustrated. Everyone seems to think something is wrong with me because I'm tired. I'm allowed to be tired. I'm half human, too."
Dean pressed his lips together, forcing his dimples to show. "I don't think anything is wrong with you," he murmured quietly. "I just think you're a little worn down."
"I take care of five kids most of the day."
"Five?"
"Lib's in school all day, every day now. One down, five to go."
Dean couldn't help but chuckle as he brushed a renegade strand of blonde hair out of his wife's face. "Cas is here. After dinner, let's put the kids down and get the hell out of here."
Grace held his gaze and finally shook her head. "I'm so paranoid about leaving them."
"It's been three months, Gracie. They're safe. We're safe."
Clicking her tongue, Grace shook her head, saying, "We'll never be safe, Dean."
With that, Grace turned to close the dishwasher and the cupboard doors. Breaking contact with his wife, Dean flicked his gaze towards Castiel, who was watching silently from his place in the dining room. Cas seemed to agree with Grace; pressing his lips together and sighing quietly.
