Chapter Four
Dean tightened his grip on the shotgun lying on the leather cushion next to his leg. His eyes were closed, but his attention was focused on the hallway, his ears alert for any sign of his brother's return. He knew there was no way Sam had had enough time to get to the security room, let alone figure out how to switch off the alarm, not even Sam was that fast despite those mile long legs of his, but he'd feel a hell of a lot better when his brother was back in his sight. He couldn't protect him when they were separated and Dean was beginning to think separating for any reason was a bad idea.
"Did he know?"
Valerie's soft voice carried across the silence of the room, startling him from his objective.
"Huh?"
"Victor. Did he know? What you really do?"
Dean turned his head against the back of the couch and pursed his lips.
"Oh," he responded. "Uh, yeah. He found out the hard way I guess. It's hard to argue the fact when there are a hundred black eyed SOB's coming full tilt trying to gank you."
"Excuse me?"
Dean grinned, rolling his head back and closing his eyes. "Demons."
"Demons."
He could tell from the tone of her voice she was more than a little skeptical. "Yeah. Of course getting possessed by one pretty much seals the deal in the 'believing in evil shit' category. We were able to save him… that time… but he didn't really have any doubts afterwards."
There was an awkward silence as the young woman tried to digest what she'd been told. Dean couldn't help but enjoy her discomfort. He'd ended up liking Hendricksen – despite the whole 'your daddy must've touched you in the wrong place' taunt. After all, the man thought he'd bagged a psycho, he was simply relishing the victory – something Dean understood all too well. And although he felt bad for what his sister had been through concerning his death, she'd still tried to kill him and that alone made her uneasiness right now a little more acceptable.
"I would've loved to have seen the look on Victor's face when he realized he was wrong."
He turned toward her again, a little surprised by the touch of amusement in her voice. "He took it pretty well, better than most."
"The demons? I don't doubt that. My brother was a pretty cool customer when it came to handling bizarre situations like that." She laughed fondly, a sound Dean couldn't help but find pleasant. "I meant I would've loved to see the look on his face when he found out he was wrong about you."
"Excuse me?" It was Dean's turn to be confused.
Valerie smiled and leaned back, the chair making a soft squeaking sound as she began to rock lightly. "My brother was a good cop. He made it his mission to find the worst scum imaginable and make them accountable for their crimes. And he had you at the top of his list."
"That's… disturbing."
"Only if you're one of the bad guys. He was convinced that you were a monster… some sort of psycho nut-job. And after you slipped through his fingers, he became obsessed with finding you and your brother and bringing you to justice. And when he did finally find you…" she held up a hand and waved it once. "… he let you go."
"He realized we weren't the bad guys."
Valerie nodded thoughtfully, her hands falling back to her lap and her eyes softening as they lost focus. "My brother didn't often admit to mistakes. But there was something about you and your brother. Something he wasn't quite sure about."
"Seemed pretty sure to me."
Valerie laughed. "That was how he played the game. Cool and collected. But the last time I talked to him, he said something that made me believe everything wasn't as black and white as he tried to make it seem."
"Do tell." Dean's interest was piqued.
"Normally when he was after someone, he'd say things like 'he wasn't going to stop until justice was served' or that 'the job didn't end until the bad guys were behind bars for good'. But he didn't say those things about you."
The hunter raised his eyebrows in question, prompting her to continue.
"He said he wasn't going to stop until he figured you out."
Dean pursed his lips and shrugged. "Just goes to show you should be careful what you wish for." If only it was that simple.
"I guess. But it led me to believe he was starting to question his own conclusions. He was starting to see shades of gray concerning you two."
"Is that why you're helping us?"
Valerie sighed. "Maybe. It wasn't often that Victor doubted himself." She suddenly leaned forward, placing her forearms on the desktop, her gaze finding the hunter's. "What really happened? How did he die?"
"It was a demon. A bitch named Lillith. She was after me and Sam. She tracked us down to that station, but we were already gone."
Valerie shrugged and shook her head. "So why? If she was after you and you weren't there, why did she kill them?"
He'd asked himself that questions a million times. "Because that's what evil does. That's what we fight every damn day."
"That sucks." She responded after a beat.
Dean nodded, chuffing a short breath through his nose. "Tell me about it." He dropped his eyes, finding the directness of her gaze suddenly unsettling. "I am sorry about your brother. I kind of got to know him a little… well once he took the handcuffs off and figured out we weren't the psycho nut jobs he'd thought. But, he seemed like a good guy. I'm just sorry… I'm… I'm just sorry I couldn't save him."
"From what you've told me you weren't even there, there was nothing you could've done."
"Maybe not." Dean shrugged. Maybe if he'd gone along with Ruby's plan… maybe if he'd thought it through better… who knows? The whole thing had been a total screw-up from the start. Falling for Bella's set-up, dropping their guard like that. It should never have happened. For that, he could blame nobody but himself.
"Is she dead? This Lillith?"
Dean shook off his dark thoughts at Valerie's question. "Not yet. We met up with her again, but…" But she let her little pet tear me to shreds and then she sent me to Hell. He coughed to clear his suddenly tight throat. "… we haven't given up. We'll find her. And when we do, we'll make sure she pays for everything she's done."
Valerie regarded him for a moment before slowly settling back into the leather chair. "I believe you will. Victor would've approved. I'm glad my brother was wrong about you."
"Your brother had good instincts."
"But he wasn't infallible."
"Maybe, maybe not." He clamped down on the memories that tried to claw their way into his consciousness. He wasn't ready to face that. He didn't think he'd ever be able to face that.
Valerie took a deep breath and leaned back, a small smile playing on her dark skin. "Victor was a good cop. But he wasn't the easiest man to deal with. He spent his life pursuing the worst mankind had to offer. It cost him a lot. His friends, his family… his happiness. I once asked him why he did it when it made him so miserable. Do you know what he told me? Why he kept doing a job that was sucking the life right out of him?"
Dean had a pretty good idea. "Because someone had to do it."
The young woman smiled sadly. "Exactly. Maybe you're not as different as you think."
Snsnsnsnsns
Sam slipped through the stairwell door, easing closed with a soft click behind him. Breathing slowly, he listened for any sign of company in the starkly lit hallway of the basement. Easing himself from the wall, he quickly made his way down the corridor, coming to a stop in front of the door marked 'Security'. Taking a deep breath, he passed Valerie's ID through the card reader and waited for the click of the lock before slowly pushing the door open just enough to glance inside the room.
Finding the room empty, he pushed the door open and hurried inside, holding his breath until the heavy metal door closed behind him.
So far, so good.
Stepping across to the security console, he quickly located the main alarm and shifted it to the off position. It would leave the museum vulnerable until someone noticed it was disengaged, but hopefully it would give them time to get through the building and get the skull before one of the guards returned from his rounds and noticed.
Besides, he had no idea which of the buttons controlled which of the wings and didn't want to stay separated from his brother any longer than necessary. Shutting down the entire system was a risk he was willing to take.
As soon as the LED light indicated the system had shut down, Sam eased back through the door, swiftly making his way to the stairwell, eager to get back to Dean, get the skull and get the hell out. Just as his hand touched the handle to the door, a loud voice boomed from behind him, freezing him in his tracks.
"Hey! You shouldn't be down here."
Sam swore silently before schooling his face into an innocent smile and turning slowly from the door.
"Um, yeah, I know… I was just, uh…" He glanced to his left, noting the plague marked 'Catalog Room' on the door across from the stairwell. "I was just filing some manifests for Ms. Cross." He pointed to the door, pitching his voice a little higher than normal, hoping like hell he came off sounding more like a harried intern than a seasoned hunter.
The security guard stepped toward him, his eyes scrutinizing the young man, moving from his face to the door and back to the ID hanging from his hand. After a moment, he smiled and Sam let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
"They got you working late, huh?"
"Yeah," Sam rolled his eyes. "Sometimes I wonder why I keep this job."
"I'm Dave," he held out a hand in greeting. "Don't think I've seen you around here before."
"Sam. I've only been here a few days," the hunter lied smoothly. "Interning with Ms. Cross for my Ancient civilizations course. Didn't expect it to take up so much time."
"I hear ya, kid." The guard waved a hand toward the door. "Go on. Hopefully they'll let you out of here before –" The guard's voiced trailed off as something behind Sam caught his attention. "What the hell…"
Turning, the young hunter watched as the security guard began to move cautiously, his right hand positioned on the handle of his holstered revolver. His eyes moved to follow the guard's and he swallowed hard as he caught sight of the familiar deep red blood as it slowly edged from around the corner.
"Shit." Sam swore under his breath, his own hand grasping the weapon tucked into the back of his jeans as he followed Dave down the hall. As they approached the corner intersection, both men held their breath, not knowing what to expect, but not believing they'd like what they found.
The blood surrounding the body was a vivid red against the polished concrete of the basement floor. The security guard came around the corner first, nearly going down as his shoes slid in the thick red liquid flowing at an alarming rate from what had been a colleague moments before.
Sam skidded to a stop, swallowing hard himself as he took in the carnage. The blood splashed across the walls in the far corridor was a violent contrast against the white walls, the scene looking like something out of a Hollywood slasher flick. The body of an older man dressed in an identical blue uniform to Sam's companion lay face up about four feet from the intersection of the two corridors, arms and legs spread eagle against the darkening floor. The center of his chest was caved, a huge hole showing muscle and bone testifying to the fact the man was dead.
"Oh, God," Dave took a step back, hand going to the wall for support. His eyes were glued to the body before him, his face pale, his body shaking with reaction.
Sam stepped forward, swallowing again against the rising bile as he carefully leaned over, assessing the guard's corpse. The blood was starting to congeal, the flow of the red liquid almost at a standstill just at the edge of the hallway. The body had been there for more than a few minutes, but with the extent of the damage and the vast amount of blood on the floor and walls, there was no way Sam could accurately determine how long ago the man had died. "Damn," he whispered as he got a good look at the body. "The heart's gone."
"What?"
Sam turned, carefully stepping around the dark pool of blood. "Whatever did this ripped his heart out."
Dave's gaze shifted from the body to Sam's face and back again. "What? Why? Who would do that?"
Sam shook his head, his eyes moving up and down the hallway. "I don't know, but whoever it was could still be in the building."
Dave took a shaking breath and nodded. "We need to call the cops."
Sam thought of his wounded brother upstairs with Valerie Cross, neither aware a killer was running loose inside the building. The young woman hadn't seemed dangerous, but she'd already been affected by the curse once and he was suddenly very uncomfortable having his wounded brother alone with her. He pulled out his phone, swearing when the device showed a lack of a signal.
"It won't work down here," Dave informed him. "All the cement in the walls as well as the steel in the vault blocks the signal."
Sam sighed heavily through his nose. "Okay, Dave, listen to me. My brother is upstairs with Ms. Cross. I need to --
His words were interrupted when the lights suddenly went out, plunging them into complete darkness. "Shit!" Sam quickly pulled a flashlight from his pocket, silently thanking his father for drilling preparedness into their heads at a young age. Shining the light on the floor in the general direction of the stairwell, Sam moved quickly past the stunned guard, forcing the man to follow as he moved down the hall. "Can you lock down the building from down here?"
"Not with the power out." Dave's voice sounded shaky, but the man was moving well, keeping up with Sam as he half-ran down the corridor. "The emergency lights should've come on right away. Something's wrong."
Sam huffed a laugh, but it held no humor. "You think?"
TBC
