Chapter 7: Girls, Girls, Girls

A scantily dressed blond woman was running through the run down part of town as fast as she could. Her heels making loud thumps against the pavement with every step she took. She reached an alley and took a breath but then noticed a shadow of a man being projected on a building across the street, and it was steadily moving in her direction. She then ran into the alley but stepped into a small crack and broke her heel, as well as hurt her ankle. But, even with her sore foot, she picked herself up and kept on running. At least until she ran into the very man she was running from.

"Raul," she breathed out in shock.

The man was calmly looking her over. "You better think fast Diana, because this…looks bad."

"I'm so…I'll do anything," she said pleadingly. "I'll come back. I'll make it up to you. Please…don't hurt me."

But her pleads and begging only made him smirk at her. He walked over and lightly moved some stray hairs from her face. "Now…what kind of a message would that send the other girls, huh?"

The girl, Diana, started to covertly ready her broken heel and then jammed it straight into the guy's eye. He gave a shout as she stabbed it right into his eye. She moved to get away but he quickly reached and gripped her shoulder. She looked back as he straightened himself up and looked back at her with a hole now where his eye used to be as his other eye went pitch black.

"No," she gasped.

"Oh Diana, I would say that I'm sorry to lose you but," He then reached over and gripped both of her cheeks. "There's plenty more where you came from," he added happily before he went and snapped her neck.


Supernatural


Dean sitting at a table in a bar as he chowed down on some seasoned steak. Sam was across from him looking at the paper. It had been over two weeks since Dean had been cured and he was looking for a change of scenery. Sam thought that they should be still be taking it easy but Dean didn't want to just 'take it easy'. Sam agreed to a change of scenery but that didn't mean that they should concentrate on work. He wanted to take time and get themselves to ease back into all of it. He wanted to see if they could find a way for Dean to better hold back the influence of the Mark than he had the last time. Abel's warnings had caused him some restless nights where he was sullen after having nightmares of Dean returning to be a demon and leaving bodies in his wake. Bodies that stared back at him with their lightless but accusing eyes. Abel said that it would only get worse and things with Dean and the Mark had been catastrophic. He didn't want to imagine what worse was.

Sam, right now, was just staring at a spot on the table as he lamented his thoughts so he barely heard his name.

"Hmm," Sam said taking a breath and snapping out of it. "What?"

Dean was lifting his fork and pointing at Sam's plate that had a steak on it as well. "You're not eating. C'mon that is a Grade B Special Porterhouse. From the southwest to Connecticut, you tell me where else would you find a decent steak under ten bucks?"

Sam shook his head. "Oh, yeah. Right," he said as he started cutting up a piece and then went to eat it.

Dean's phone was beeping and going off but Dean ignored it and gave him a look. "You okay Sam?"

"Yeah, of course," he brushed off. But then Sam eyed him. "Are you?"

Dean huffed. "I'm fine Sam. Just like I was when you asked that an hour ago. And the hour before that. You can relax. I'm good now."

Sam leaned back in his chair. "I know…it's just still a little unbelievable to process sometimes. Maybe we should still have stayed back at the bunker a bit more, given-"

Sam didn't say anything more on that but Dean didn't need him to. He knew that being a demon and trying to kill him had shaken Sam up a bit. Hell, it still shook Dean up.

"Yeah," Dean muttered. "But I'm okay now, really. And I don't feel like staying cooped up in the bunker. You didn't?"

Sam narrowed his eyes. "What are you talking about?"

Dean eyed him. "You know, the demon blood, did you just want to be cooped up somewhere when you got cleaned out? No, you didn't."

Sam let out a deep breath. "This isn't the same thing Dean. I…was off the deep end, yeah, but it was still me. Okay, and you…weren't you. It was something that thought like you, fought like you, and talked like you…but it wasn't you."

Now it was Dean that was letting out a deep breath. "Well, you don't have to worry, because I'm back. I'm not saying that we should just jump right back into everything like nothing's changed, but I don't want to be somewhere and try to pretend like none of it happened."

Sam nodded. "Okay," he said after a moment.

"Okay," Dean said in a tone that made it clear that this was now settled. "Now eat your steak. Or I will," he said before returning to his own.

Sam narrowed his eyes when Dean's phone beeped again to let him know that he got a message. Many times and Sam could see a string of messages being shown on his phone's screen. "Dude, you are blowing up. Who is that?"

Dean took his phone and scrolled down and just shrugged. "It's just…alert things."

"For what?"

"For, you know, monster stuff," he said as he silenced his phone and then set it down so that the screen was facing the table. Sam nodded before he went and made a grab for it as Dean went to take another bite of his steak. "No, uh uh, give it back," Dean said quickly holding his hand at him.

"What?" Sam said as he held it back. "What, why?"

"Because privacy," Dean said with narrowed eyes. "And stuff."

"Oh, privacy?" Sam then went and checked his phone and moved to the most recent alert. A profile page of Dean's suddenly popped up and Sam's eyes nearly popped out in surprise. "You're on a dating app?"

Dean started to feel a small shred of embarrassment before he shook his head to wave it off. "You know what, don't knock it until you try it."

But Sam was not done with poking fun at him. "Nice screen name Dean," he said with a big smile on his face for the first time in a while that it almost hurt. "Impala67," he mocked.

Now Dean had enough. "Alright, give it back. Come on." Dean said as he moved to swipe it away.

Sam put it further out of his reach. "Shaylene huh?" He scrolled down the messages. "Dean…there are like a million messages here."

Dean finally smiled. "Yeah…check out her pic."

Sam clicked it and his head thrust back. The girl in the picture was gorgeous. "Wow, she's hot," he said impressed. He did hold up a halting finger. "But."

"But what?" Dean mumbled.

"She seems…uh, kind of available. Like too available." He then looked to read out her latest message to him. "Oh baby. Whatever you want. I'm burning up just thinking about you," he recited mockingly. "Says, she on her way here…and other stuff."

But Dean just laughed. "They get raunchier?"

"Dean, it's like a Penthouse letter. You're not serious about this, right?"

Dean rolled his eyes amusingly at him. "Uh…yeah. Why, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," Sam said quickly. "But…it's kind of a little too good to be true. Don't you think?"

Now Dean was feeling defensive. "I'm sorry…is it so hard that an attractive woman, a red-blooded American female could be interested in someone like me?"

Sam tried not to flinch at how Dean happily said blood. "You do realize that there is no guarantee that "Shaylene"," he emphasized with making air quotes with his fingers. "is really Shaylene, right? I mean…for all you know it could be some Canadian trucker," but he froze. "named Bruce."

Dean noticed the weirded out look on his brother's face and turned around. Sure enough, 'Shaylene' was standing there, every bit as hot as her profile pic, with a smile she was shooting right at Dean. Dean smiled back and sent her a flirty one finger wave which she responded with a sexy wave back.

Dean smiled over at Sam. "That look like a Bruce to you?"


Castiel was off in his motel room as there was a wall decorated with file copies and various pictures of people, one that included Daniel Leonard as well as a newspaper clipping that had the faces of Lisa and Ben Braeden with a headline reading: Mother and Son Vanish From Their Home. He was standing in front of it, deep in thought, when there was a knock on the door. He took hold of his blade as he went to the door and slowly opened it a tab to see who it was.

"Hello Castiel," Hannah said calmly even though there was a blade ready in his hand.

Castiel settled a bit. He then opened the door fully. "Hannah. You came."

"Of course." She then walked on in. "I'm sorry that I took so long. Me and my faction have been under hard watch lately. I was just able to get away on a routine patrol but they'll expect me back soon."

"Don't worry, I understand. I know that what I'm asking isn't easy."

Hannah tilted her head a bit as she looked him up and down. "How are you doing?"

"I'm okay," he said lightly. "Anita's grace was stronger than the last angel's I had to use. I haven't felt any ill effects as of yet."

"But, it'll only be a matter of time," Hannah pointed out.

Castiel walked off. "I know," he said looking over at the curtained window. "If I'm going to get my full strength back then I'll need to get my own grace back. And only Metatron knows where it is."

"And Metatron has been locked away in Heaven. He's been officially classed as a renegade." Hannah then eyed him uncomfortably. "And so have you."

"I suppose I really am now," Castiel said in a low voice. He then shook his head. "But enough about that. Tell me, how much have you learned?"

"Some," she said downhearted. "It hasn't been easy to navigate through the system now that Michael has taken control."

"Where is he commanding everyone from? Heaven?"

"No, he's been staying on Earth. He has Raguel from The Powers looking over Heaven. He's been staying at a keep over in Florida."

"The Paradise Pavilion," Castiel supplied.

"Yes, but only a select number of angels are allowed to be there so I can't tell you who or what is going on there. Though I've heard that Gadreel is there and that he has been made The Heavenly Saint's appointed guard."

Now that surprised Castiel. "Michael is allowing this?"

"Allowing it? Castiel, it was his idea," Hannah breathed which made Castiel's face fall slightly. "He has officially pardoned Gadreel and then granted him that position. Believe me, we were all surprised."

Castiel couldn't believe that Michael would actually give a high standing position to a renegade, even a former one. "What about Samael? Have you learned anything about him?"

Hannah shook her head. "I'm sorry Castiel. The only thing I've heard about Samael and his force was that Jedediah managed to find and kill Tyrus and a few of his men. Nothing about Marilyn or Barbatos."

Castiel nodded, letting her know that he understood. It was likely that Samael was well hidden from prying eyes. The rogue archangel wasn't a fool. He just hoped that if he could find some clue to Barbatos and Marilyn then he could try to find a way to save their vessels and destroy any future hold that Samael might try to instill in the Winchesters. Especially with Dean. It was thanks to Samael having them that made Dean charge the Pavilion and get killed once before.

"Thank you Hannah." Hannah then went over to lightly grasp his hand in comfort and he returned the grip lightly before he let her go. "You should get back before someone decides to look for you."

Hannah nodded before she made her way for the door. But just before she got to it she stopped short. She gave it a look before turning around. "I know that you want to find Samael and the others because of the Winchesters Castiel. But, I have to say that you shouldn't go after him or the others. Not until you get better first."

He gave her a morose look. "I don't plan to."


Dean was pushed into the wall of the motel room as Shaylene moved in to capture him in an intense kiss as she helped him to remove his button shirt off. Their lips separated but she stayed close with their foreheads pressed together.

"Forgot something," she panted out.

"What?" Dean asked as he looked over at her half-sober.

She backed up and ran a finger down from his neck to his chest seductively. "Still have to discuss my terms."

Dean tilted his head and smiled. "What? Like rules? Sexy rules?" he asked raising his eyebrows for effect as she came in closer.

But Shaylene's face went a little serious. "More like an issue of payment."

Dean let his back lay flat against the wall as he seemed to understand what she was saying. "Oh?"

"Yeah," she nodded with a small smile. "Sweetie, I thought you figured it out. I mean should I just have come out and said it. I kind of thought I made it obvious," she said with a laughing sort of tone.

But Dean wasn't laughing. He was already imagining Sam's smug face saying: I told you so.

"Yeah, yeah," Dean said before clearing his throat. "It's just, uh…I have this code. No cash for ass."

Shaylene turned to him but didn't seem angry or upset at all. "Well, you're in luck honey. Because I don't want your money." She then walked over so that they were nearly face to face. "A trifle really."

Dean narrowed his eyes. "I'm listening."

"Your soul," she said.

Dean's face fell a bit. "My soul?"

Shaylene shrugged. "It's nothing really. I mean, who knows what a soul is really? If it even exists. All I know is you say yes then my guy comes up, you sign some papers and then it's you and me. Good to go."

But Dean's face went harder at all that. This now was no longer a happy or funny mistake. Dean now was itching to hurt somebody.

Dean pulled away from her and started to walk off. "So…that's it? Just sign over my life?"

"It's a signature baby. What's a little paperwork compared to absolute physical bliss?"

Dean gave her a look. She didn't seem to be a demon herself but seemed to have some understanding of what she was doing.

"You make a strong case," he said playing along a bit more.

"I love my job," she said rubbing up against the wall for him.

Dean nodded. "Do you?" he asked as he moved closer to her with a hard face.

"Yeah?" she said a little half-heartedly.

He could sense the hesitation in her. She was scared, he could see it. "Because it doesn't look like love to me." The look he was giving her was making Shaylene start tense up and not in fun kind of way. "I know my brother will never let me live this down but…how about we talk instead?"

It was a little while longer when Shaylene sent a message from her phone and a guy suddenly came into the room. He saw that Shaylene and Dean were there but Dean was keeping his back facing him.

"Everyone good to go?" the man asked as he came in with a rolled up paper. He started unfolding it and took out a pen. "Well, just put in your John Hancock and we could get this party started." But the guy froze when Dean stood up and faced him. He then saw Sam coming out of the bathroom as well and Dean brought out an angel blade. "Winchesters," he said tensely and tried to back up but found he couldn't. He then looked up and noticed the Devil's Trap painted on the roof keeping him trapped.

"She told us everything," Dean said as he viewed the demon with disgust.

Disgust that Sam shared as he glared at the demon. "Abduction, forced prostitution. Pretty gnarly, even for a demon."

The demon shrugged. "She's got her version. I've got mine."

"Liar!" Shaylene spat out.

"Oh? Let me guess, she came to you begging for you to pimp her out," Dean said.

"Yeah," the demon chimed in. "Because that Harvard degree was working out so well for her."

"How many girls are there?" Dean demanded. "How big is this?"

"Just me and Shay," he said.

"He's lying," Shaylene quickly said to them. "There's a brothel. I heard him on the phone." She then eyed him. "They told me what you are. A demon from Hell!"

"Beats being trash from the street," he said not skipping a beat and making her taken aback. "Face it missy, without me you would've been dead of drugs or worse in a year." He then looked over at the Winchesters. "She should be thanking me. Frankly, this little ho"

But he never got to finish. At that insult, Shaylene went and grabbed Dean's blade and jammed it into him killing him.

"Yeah," Dean said as he went to grab the blade from her. "That just happened."

"Great," Sam huffed out. "He was our best chance at finding out where the brothel was. Do you have any idea where it is?" he asked Shaylene.

"No," she said as she still eyed the dead demon. "But-" She then stepped over and started to search him. She pulled out a card from his coat pocket. "I saw him give these out at the bars."

It was a business card for a place called Raul's Girls. It wasn't too far.


Over at the brothel, one of the men there was holding up lingerie as he angrily eyed the girl in the chair.

"What did you say?" he asked glaring at her.

"I said…if you like it so much then why don't you wear it," the girl said calmly but angrily.

Another guy walked in and the first one rounded on him. "She won't wear the clothes you picked. What should I do?"

The guy was the demon that hunted down the escaping girl before and he now had an eyepatch over his destroyed eye. He just regarded the guy with an annoyed look. "Gerald, what do you think?" he asked sarcastically. The first guy eyed the girl savagely as he let his black eyes show. "Don't leave any marks," the demon warned.

But before anything could happen, the door opened again and in walked a woman this time.

"Yo lady," the first guy called out to her. "I think you're in the wrong place."

"Uh, this is Raul's Girls, isn't it?" she asked with her thick Scottish accent shining through. "Clever name by the way."

The one eyed demon turned over to face her better. "Sorry but we're not hiring anybody at the moment. And, no offense, even if we were you're a little…old." She gave him a look but he then smiled. "Unless you're here as a customer," he laughed out.

She gave him a polite smile. "No disrespect to your girls," Her face then fell. "but I'd sooner die than do business of any kind with filth like you," she said with disgust.

She then went and threw something at him and he caught it. He looked down and saw that it was a hex bag.

"You're a-"

But Raul didn't finish as he started to spew out black goo from his mouth.

"Boss?" the second guy said in shock.

The demon kept spitting out goo until he fell to his knees.

"Ladies," the witch said to the girl from before as well as another that came in and were watching everything. "You may want to stand back. This could get messy."

The second demon quickly retreated from his meat suit as the Raul kept spewing out black goo until he finally lay motionless on the ground.

"Hardly the most appetizing process in the world but killing demons always makes me hungry," she said looking back at the girls before heading for the door. But she stopped and looked back at them. "You coming? I mean, you're welcome to stay here." The two girls eyed each other frightfully before they went and followed after her. "Fabulous."


Sam and Dean made it to the club but found that the door was open so they just strolled in and found the mess of a corpse left on the floor. And they see another one further down.

Dean eyed it all with disappointment. "Great, I'm now more itching to kill this Raul tool. Check ID's," he said to Sam as he headed off for the bar area to grab a drink.

Sam bent down over the corpse and flinched back at the smell. "Uh Dean, from the look and smell of it, pure demon. I think this is Raul."

Dean's face went into disbelief. "What? He puked himself to death?"

"Yeah, literally," Sam said as he went to analyze the black ooze more carefully.

Dean came around from the bar shaking his head. "Okay, so, something went down here. There was a standoff. One demon smokes out and Raul-" He eyed the black mess again. "What could even kill a demon like that? The Battalion?"

Sam narrowed his eyes. "No. They have their cuffs and that super-fast exorcism. Doesn't match their M.O."

"Okay, so what then?"

Sam shook his head in wonder before he noticed something next to Raul's shoe. He pulled it out to reveal a hex bag which he picked up for Dean to see. "Apparently, a witch."

Dean's eyes widened. He'd only just recently had to encounter Crowley's new pet witch and now there was another. But…what kind of witch would do something like this to a demon?


After leaving the brothel, the three ladies were over at a five star restaurant where they were drinking fine champagne. Or at least one of them was. The two hookers were tense and uncomfortable as they watched their hostess just drink the expensive drink from a crystal glass.

"Uh, mam, why we doing here?" asked the blonde.

She put the glass down. "Please, don't call me mam. Name's Rowena. And what are your names?"

"Elle," said the blonde.

"Caitlin," said the brunette.

Rowena nodded. "And as to why we're doing here, eating of course. I doubt that swine Raul fed you both good and properly."

"Yeah," said Caitlin a little hesitantly. "But, we kind of don't belong here."

This was a pretty exquisite place and with the kind of low cut and run down clothes they were wearing was already drawing in a few looks from people. And soon enough, one of the waiters came over to their table.

"Apologies for the interruption mam," he said over at Rowena.

Rowena closed and opened her eyes at the use of 'mam' for her. "That word again."

"But I'm afraid that our restaurant has a very strict dress code. A certain standard that the two members of your party…fall short of," he tried to say politely but the insult was well heard.

That made the two hookers feel more uncomfortable and they seemed ready to just grab their coats and leave.

"Now can we go?" asked Caitlin.

But Rowena went to her bag. "Stay in your seats," she told them before they could get up. "We're not going anywhere."

The waiter raised his eyes at that. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Rowena smiled at him before putting a hex bag in his hand. She chanted a small spell and the waiter's eyes went into a dazed light.

Soon enough, the three of them were then served a fine assortment of first class food and the waiter came back with a large bottle of champagne.

"A Cruge 95. Excellent vintage," he said with a smile as he poured them all the champagne. "With our compliments of course."

"This is awesome," Elle said ecstatic and impressed at everything.

But Caitlin was still a little out of it. "How did you do it?" she asked Rowena.

"Magic," she answered.

"Magic?" Elle asked showing her interest.

Even Caitlin seemed to want to know some more.

"According to the Grand Coven there are three recognized kinds of witch in the world. Most common are the Borrowers. Those that harness the power of a demon to practice the art. Though, owing to your recent experience, I doubt you would have the stomach for that," she said making Elle and Caitlin share a look that made it clear that they agreed with her on that one. Rowena continued. "Secondly, and rarest of all, are the Naturals. Those who are born with the gift."

"You're one of those?" Elle asked.

Rowena turned her head as she played at being bashful. "Well, you are correct."

Caitlin narrowed her eyes. "And what's the third?"

"The Students," Rowena answered. "Those with no natural ability who, with practice and training and a Grand Coven approved mentor to show them the path, can make out a modicum of witchly power."

"Will…you be our mentor?" asked Elle.

Rowena turned her head again. "Well, I'm about as far from Grand Coven approved as there's possible to be," she said a little displeased and despaired. "They threw me out. Many years ago. Disapproved of my methods. Said my magic was too extreme. I was forbidden from using magic. From taking students. From forming a coven." That seemed to make both the girls drop their heads in disappointment. "I've been on the run from those utter fannies ever since."

"So…you can't teach us?" Caitlin said.

But Rowena leaned in closer to her. "Screw the Grand Coven and their stupid rules. You two stick with me and you two can have anything you want. Do anything you want."

Elle smiled at that. "When do we start?"

Rowena looked over at the waiter and saw that he was starting to wobble in place and seemed to be getting sick. She took that as her cue. "Soon but not here," she said getting to her bag. The waiter then started to fidget and drop the dishes he was holding making the whole restaurant turn to look at him. "Whoops, that's our cue," she told the girls.

They all then grabbed their things as the waiter's skin started to turn red as his body started to smoke and burn up grotesquely in front of everyone.

"Did you do that?" Caitlin asked horrified at the sight of him.

Rowena shrugged. "Oh, he'll be fine. Worker's Comp and all that. Are you coming?"

They then left as all the people kept staring at the disturbing corpse.


Crowley was sitting in his throne as he took in the demon's report. Crowley was less than satisfied with what he was hearing.

"Gerald," he said before getting up. "A bordello? You opened a whorehouse in my name?"

The demon Gerald was facing Crowley in the body of a roadside worker he had found nearby as he nervously faced the King of Hell.

"Well, technically the place was called Raul's Girls," he said with a nervous smile. "But, Raul said-"

"Oh," Crowley said cutting him off. "Raul said."

Gerald swallowed nervously. "Your decree last month. Soul deals are way down after the War with Abaddon. Said that you were looking for proactive and out of the box strategies to get numbers back up."

"So you and your half-wit pal threw me into the sex trade?" he asked clearly unimpressed. "I'm evil, that's just tacky."

A snort drew their eyes to Zepar who was lounging in an armchair close by. "Crowley, from what I've seen so far, tacky's the new black." He then looked over at the lower demon. "I just wish I caught word of this sooner. I would've been a regular customer myself."

Crowley rolled his eyes. Samael had decided to leave the angel with him to be his eyes, ears and voice in all Hell related matters. Crowley felt it insulting that the archangel would appoint him a holy babysitter for conducting his business affairs. Especially one that loved to throw in criticism and unwanted retorts at him now and again.

Gerald drew back Crowley's attention. "We had tried running it passed you. But we were told that you weren't taking meetings. That you were distracted." Gerald then saw that Crowley spared a glance in Zepar's direction as the angel seemed to be serious for a moment as he eyed the king with scolding eyes. Crowley was now glaring a bit at Gerald. "I mean busy," he corrected himself quickly before continuing on with his report. "Look, this witch came and took Raul out like that," he said with a snap of his fingers. "Whole operation kaput. I smoked out."

"Ran away," Crowley corrected him.

"I possessed the nearest meat suit I could find."

"Apparently so," Crowley said taking hold of the orange work vest he had on.

"Because I felt that you should know what happened," Gerald said quickly back to him. "An act of aggression like that…it seemed to be something that you could not stand," he finished.

Crowley rolled his eyes at the meager attempt at flattery which Zepar mirrored.

"Hmm…find this witch," he said. "And bring her back here to me." Gerald's eyes widened in fear. "Is that going to be a problem?" Crowley asked pointedly.

"Uh…no. Of course not."

"Then what are you still doing here?" Crowley asked lowly.

Gerald then moved and headed out of the room.

"Hey Crowley," Zepar said to him as the demon left. "If she's hot then I hope you don't mind letting me have her first." he said with a smug smile. "Let me send her to Heaven before you put her through Hell."

Crowley let out a frustrated huff. The first chance he got-


Sam and Dean were riding down the highway in the Impala with Dean driving and Sam looking up the symbol on the hex bag as it was different from any other they've encountered before.

"Found it," Sam said as he pulled up a page with the symbol on it. "Okay, so apparently in the 18th Century there were accounts of demons killed by witchcraft. Apparently they were vanquished by a spell called Defigure Et Tu Cogire. Which is latin for To Bind and Purge."

Dean's eyes rose a bit. "You think that's the spell that took out Raul?"

"Sounds like it," said Sam. "But, from what I can tell, that spell hasn't been used in over 300 years. And, it was only ever been known by one person. The witch who created it."

"And that is?" asked Dean.

"Rowena," Sam read.

"So, we're looking for a 300 year old witch?"

"Looks like it," Sam mumbled.

"Awesome," Dean mumbled. 'Because he really loved hunting witches,' he thought sarcastically.

Sam was less than happy as well, but not because of the witch. It's because, now, they were officially on a hunt. He felt that this was the last thing Dean needed. He didn't want Dean to be on a hunt. To risk letting his brother lose himself in a fight and start to fall under the sway of the Mark again. To lose him again...and this time, forever.


A guy was bound and tied in a chair. He was glaring at his captor.

"I'm not afraid, cause you're a noob," he spat before holy water was thrown into his face and caused him to burn. "I'm your first. That's why you're drawing this out. You're studying me. You're training," But he was cut off with more holy water to the face. "It's going to take a lot more than that to make me talk.

"Oh, you'll talk. You'll talk and you'll tell me everything that you know about your buddy Dean Winchester."

The captor revealed himself as Cole Trenton.


End of Chapter 8

A/N: Rowena is here. I've always liked her style. I always thought she brought a comical twist to being evil much like Crowley has. Like mother like son I guess. I know that this hunt wasn't supposed to be until much later in canon but I felt that it fit in with the story and helped with the flow that the new characters in their world would bring everything too.

The next chapter will have Sam and Dean track down Rowena as Cole tracks them down. Also, Rowena's activities draw in someone else's attention.