Four
"Come now Deacon," LeSalle sarcastically chided him. "Did you finally lose your mind? I've never seen you so upset?"
"M'upset," Deacon hissed through clenched teeth at LeSalle who jerked his head away when he felt droplets of spit land on his cheek. "Cuz you brought those two here."
"Them," LeSalle looked over at Sam and Dean who were just as confused as the rest of the bar patrons who were paying attention to the scuffle. LeSalle concocted the quickest lie he could think of. "They're my cousins from outta town. They're just here for a visit. Now calm yourself before you turn into a bull in a china shop."
Deacon let him go and LeSalle slid down the greasy wall and regained his posture. Delilah went over to him and once he gave her a nod that he was okay she turned her gaze towards Deacon and glared at him. He gave her the same burly look right back.
"Well tell your cousins to stay outta my way," Deacon retorted to LeSalle before grabbing the beer he'd set and down and starting to walk back over to his friends Hus and Nick. "If they're smart they won't follow in your example. I dunno what's going on in this city this past month, but I don't trust you to take care of a real problem."
"Point taken," LeSalle replied with the sarcasm that Drew remarked would get him killed one day. "Oh and Deacon I wouldn't trust you with my grandma's sewing kit much less my back."
Deacon grumbled some less than intelligible profane words and sat back down at his table. He was trying to keep his eyes fixed on the television screen rather than the three banes of his existence that had walked into the bar. Dean looked over at the hunter who had sassed him and Sam at the church earlier than day and tried to not make it obvious he was observing him. Deacon was built like every linebacker in history and Dean assumed he'd played in high school at least if he'd graduated. He didn't look all that intelligent at first glance. Deacon had shorter red hair that was shaggy and clearly had split ends he didn't care much about. He had a mess of freckles on his cheeks just as Drew did, but his were more spread out and less clustered together. Deacon's eyes were sullen and they appeared to be sunken into his frame showing he'd clearly seen a lot in his lifetime and wasn't ready to ever talk about it. Dean determined by the demeanor and hidden weapons on his two friends that his trained hunter eyes picked up on that Deacon most certainly did not work alone and he didn't work with choice people either.
"Dean," Sam broke Dean out of his trance. "What are you looking at?"
"Just that asshole," Dean turned around on his barstool. "He seems like a real winner."
"Yeah," Sam sighed. "No one ever said the job or who we had to work around or with was gonna be easy. I ordered you a beer."
"Thanks," Dean took a sip of it, he considered guzzling the whole thing right then and there, but he paced himself. He had to keep up appearances in front of Sam and their hosts after all. "The job certainly isn't easy, but I've never seen an ass like him 'cept for maybe Gordon."
"Deacon is just a homophobic asshole," Delilah said from beside Dean on his right. She had ordered a shot of whiskey. "If you think of the biggest dicks you know and all their traits Deacon is all of them together. He's hated Salle forever."
"He won't tell us why either," Drew said from the left of Sam. He had vodka mixed with lemonade. "It's your classic hero and villain story."
"Little do they know it's villain vs. villain." LeSalle thought to himself before speaking up.
"Guys," he said from beside Drew on the left. "You do realize I can hear you?"
"Sorry Sallie," Drew apologized and took a sip of his drink. "We just don't know how else to explain it. Besides it's not you've ever told us why he hates you anyway?"
"Cuz ain't nobody's business but mine and his," LeSalle replied and took a sip of his bourbon. "He's just an ass from the past that's all."
Delilah gave him the skeptical look she often did, but then proceeded to roll her eyes and finish her drink before ordering another. Drew sipped his gingerly and once he finished it off he made a face before ordering another one. Dean and Sam theorized he didn't handle his liquor that well. The brothers each ordered one more beer before Sam called it quits and Dean ordered a third. LeSalle nursed his bourbon in the corner and thought about what had happened at the church that morning. The preacher had been attacked by a ghost. It wasn't unheard of, but LeSalle could easily pick up on any ghost's energy and speak to them per se. This ghost had been angry and he hadn't needed to pick up on anything to come to that conclusion. Ghosts could get mad and they could kill, but a ghost killing a holy person was unheard of even in New Orleans where ghosts ran wild as dogs in the islands or pigeons in New York City.
Deacon had stuck around at the scene and gotten some information that LeSalle had been hoping to gain on his own, but there was no way in hell he was going to ask his rival for hunting tips. He had his own ways of finding things out, but he realized he'd have to wait until everyone else was asleep. His methods weren't traditional or really of this world after all.
"Tell me when y'all are done," LeSalle said. "I'll pay."
-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-
Once Drew was asleep, he always passed out after drinking anything, LeSalle snuck down to the basement of his home. He checked to confirm that Delilah and the others were as well and then proceeded to his destination. Normally houses in the south weren't supposed to have basements because of their proximity to the water table, but this was one was warded against environmental damage and this one was special. LeSalle made sure no one was looking when he lifted the hatch and walked down the stairs leading to it before turning on the light to see. Inside the basement was a giant wooden desk filled to the brim with books, some open and some closed, mixing bowls and herbs. He'd forgotten to clean up the last time he'd been down there. He flicked on the other light above the desk and his trained eyes went immediately to the book he'd need.
His father had been practicing witchcraft and had become a warlock long before he'd even dreamed of teaching LeSalle the craft. In fact he doubted his father had ever wanted to teach his son about what he'd done in the similar basement of the family home that had been burnt to the ground long ago. Something he'd never forgotten since the day it had happened and he'd escaped. His father unfortunately had died saving him and his mother fortunately had passed long before then so she didn't get to see the decimation of the place she'd called home too. That had been one of the many reasons LeSalle hated Deacon, for Deacon's family had been the ones to commit the heinous crime. Deacon's father was the man LeSalle had seen that night with the flaming stick in his hands, tossing more and more into the house LeSalle had run from by his father's instruction. LeSalle assumed Deacon had been taught to hate his family and all they stood for, but obviously not the reason why for he knew not of what LeSalle was.
"Alright," LeSalle said to himself locating the spell he needed. "Let's see what really happened in that church."
He said the incantation and suddenly a portal opened up beside him and he looked over at it before passing through it carefully until he met the other side which put him smack in the center of the old church. It felt strange being there at night when it was so empty and he could hear the foundation creaking and the moonlight eerily shone through the stained glassed window at the very top. He looked around to make sure he was alone before going over to the doors and throwing them open to where the priest laid bleeding early that morning. He looked down at the steps and bent over to touch the blood stained concrete. It seemed so out of place on the steps of a home of worship and it didn't sit right with LeSalle. He couldn't fathom how or why a ghost would do that. Just as he was about to get lost in his thoughts though, he sensed he wasn't alone anymore.
He looked up to see the same ghost, staring at him and stalking him like a lion. LeSalle got upright and stared back, anticipating her next move. He was caught off guard anyway and she slammed him into the altar and proceeded to try and choke him. He grunted and struggled against her hand and reached around for anything iron.
"You cannot stop us," the ghost woman said in a creepy fluid voice. "You cannot stop her either. She will rise as she has commanded us to. You cannot stop any of this. You—"
LeSalle cut her off when he slashed through her with an iron candle stick stand that was nearby and took a deep breath and coughed from the choking.
"Go ta hell bitch." He got up and took off towards the portal he'd made before she could come back. It closed behind him.
-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-
Dean had fallen in out of dreams of hell the whole night. He could've sworn he'd seen LeSalle coming up from the floor of the house, but chalked it up to his imagination and lack of sleep. The second time he woke up though someone really was there in front of him and it was Castiel. The angel hadn't visited since the last seal and Dean wasn't all that particularly happy to see him.
"It's two am," Dean grumbled. "What could you feathery assholes possibly need from me at this hour?"
"I came to talk Dean," Castiel replied in his cold and robotic tone. "It's imperative."
Dean threw the covers off of him and stood up so that he was facing Castiel. He held his arms out.
"Okay I'm up," Dean sighed. "What is it?"
"There's another seal breaking," Castiel explained. "Lilith is still attempting to rise and you and Sam have to stop it."
"Yeah don't remind me bird brain," Dean replied. "Where's the damn seal this time huh? Las Vegas hopefully I'm running low on money."
"I have not located the exact place the seal is," Castiel said. "But I assure you once I do you and Sam will be the first to know."
"Great Cas," Dean said, running his hand over his mouth and down to his chin. "You done?"
"Goodnight Dean." Castiel nodded and flew away, leaving the hunter standing in the dark living room alone once again. Dean rolled his eyes and collapsed back onto the couch into a few more hours of restless sleep.
Reviews are appreciated!
So Lilith and the seals and crazy ghosts? Coincidence or not?
What LeSalle does is revealed! And Deacon's hatred for him is too. Now will his friends ever figure it out?
More to come soon!