Claire opened her eyes to see her mother's concerned face hovering over her. "Claire? Honey, are you okay?"
The girl pushed herself upright, eyes searching...She gasped in horror when she found Mallory crumpled on the floor in front of the altar. The front of her shirt and the carpet beneath her were stained dark red. Shoftiel stood over Mallory, looking down at her with a thoughtful expression. Then he turned and looked directly at Claire.
Amelia got to her feet, squaring off with Shoftiel. "Leave us alone," she ordered, her voice shaking but her fists clenched at her sides. Shoftiel gave her a dismissive look.
"You have no significance in this, Amelia Novak," he said, and waved his hand almost lazily. Amelia was thrown off her feet, hit her already bruised skull on the ground, and rolled to a halt, unmoving.
"Mom!" Claire called, starting forward, but suddenly Shoftiel was directly in front of her, staring down at her. Claire swallowed thickly. The thing was, the angel didn't look frightening. He was just a boy, no older than Mallory, less than six feet tall, with floppy hair that hung over his hazel eyes. He was wearing a hoodie over a skater t-shirt. But the sword in his right hand was stained with Mallory's blood, dripping silently from the tip of the blade.
"I am sorry for this, Claire," he said solemnly. "But it needs to be done. Castiel must die, and his vessels must be destroyed. Heaven has commanded it."
Tears slid down Claire's cheeks as she scrambled backwards between the pews. Shoftiel followed her easily, advancing until her back was pressed against a wall. She stared up at him, at the blade in his hand. She would not beg. It wouldn't do any good, anyway. Shoftiel lifted the blade, his expression almost apologetic, and Claire closed her eyes, sucking in a deep breath.
"Step away from her."
The four words fell like bombs, exploding into silence. Claire's eyes flew open and Shoftiel froze, his sword raised above his head. Claire couldn't see the speaker, couldn't see if it was who she thought it was...but it was impossible!
Shoftiel slowly turned to face his challenger and Claire's breath fled her lungs as she stared, open mouthed. Standing in front of the altar, shirt still bloodstained, was Mallory. There was more blood on her lips and chin, but she didn't even seem to notice, her head up and shoulders back. Then Claire gasped.
Mallory was looking straight at Shoftiel! She could see him! Her eyes narrowed. "I said," she repeated in a dangerous voice. "Step away from her."
Shoftiel did, his entire attention on the young woman in front of him. "You cannot have survived," he said slowly, eying her warily.
"You far underestimated me," Mallory retorted. "Leave while you can, Shaftiel. Please don't make me destroy you."
The angel laughed derisively. "You are weak, barely recovered. You could not possibly overpower me."
A sword, looking just like the one Shaftiel carried, slid down from Mallory's sleeve into her hand. "You underestimated me once. Would you like to do so again?"
Shoftiel's eyes slid from Mallory to Claire and back again, his expression unreadable. Then he whirled around, his sword driving down toward Claire. She didn't have time to scream before Mallory was in front of her and the clang of striking swords rang out like a bell in the sanctuary. All Claire could see was Mallory's back, bowed with effort, her shoulders tense and quivering. Then Mallory pushed forward and Shoftiel stumbled back a few steps. Mallory lunged for him but just as her sword would have struck him, he vanished. Mallory skidded to a halt, her head twisting back and forth as her eyes scoured the room.
Mallory could see. When the hell had that happened? Claire watched, still speechless, as Mallory slid the sword up the sleeve of her shirt and then paced over to Claire, going down on one knee to look her in the face. "Claire," she said gently. "Are you all right?"
"M-Mallory, what—what is going on?" Claire stammered. The older girl smiled faintly.
"I'm not Mallory. But she is here, inside." The girl reached up to tap the side of her head. "She is resting. The shock of being stabbed has driven her unconscious."
Claire shrunk against the wall, suddenly understanding what this person was. Even though she had undoubtedly saved Claire's life, considering what Shoftiel had tried to do Claire still felt that she had the right to be suspicious. "Who are you?" she asked softly.
"My name is Amitiel," the girl said, still smiling. "I'm a friend of Castiel's. It's all right, Claire, I'm here to protect you."
"But Mallory said you were dead!" Claire exclaimed, her eyes wide. Amitiel suddenly looked sad.
"I'm not surprised she came to that conclusion. I very nearly was." She held out her hand and helped Claire to her feet. "But I'm here, now. And we don't have much time before Shoftiel returns with reinforcements."
Amitiel strode over to where Amelia lay, Claire at her side. When the angel crouched by her mother, Claire went down on her knees, grabbing her mom's hand. "Is she gonna be okay?" she asked urgently. Amitiel gently probed her fingers over Amelia's skull.
"I believe she will be fine," Amitiel finally said, giving Claire a reassuring smile. "And now," Once more she got to her feet. Claire didn't follow, choosing to stay with her mother. She watched the angel cross the room and come to a stop in the center aisle. Claire gave a tiny murmur of sorrow. She hadn't even noticed Crow's broken body lying in a crumpled heap where Shoftiel had flung him. Amitiel knelt down beside the dog and picked his head up to lie in her lap, stroking his ears gently.
She sat there like that for a long time, just petting the dog. Claire wondered what she was doing but didn't dare ask. All of the sudden, Crow's body twitched. Claire jerked in surprise. Then the dog began to wag his tail weakly, his ears pricking up.
"You are a brave animal, Crow," Amitiel murmured softly. "Loyal to your mistress." She smiled and ruffled his ears one more time. "Good boy."
"How did you do that?" Claire demanded. Amitiel looked up, her pale gray eyes meeting Claire's blue ones.
"Healing an animal is not as difficult as healing a human. Their minds are not as delicate and they have no souls to rebuild. Mallory is very fond of Crow. She would be upset if anything happened to him, and I do not like her to be upset." She got to her feet and Crow jumped up beside her, still wagging his tail slightly and looking up at her worshipfully. "It's time to go."
Claire frowned. "But Sam and Dean are on their way," she began, and then Amitiel was at her side again, Crow loping over to join them.
"I will ensure the Winchesters' safety," Amitiel promised. "Now I must see to yours." She reached up to touch Claire's forehead and Claire blinked.
They were back in Bobby's living room. Most of the furniture was gone and there were soot and water marks on the walls. Amitiel lifted Amelia as if she weighed nothing and deposited her gently on the couch.
"Bobby!" she called. "Bobby, I need you!"
Claire jerked in surprise when a man came barreling around the corner in a wheelchair. He was a big man despite being confined to the chair, with a grizzly beard and a cap pulled low over a glowering face. "Mal? Goddammit, girl what is going on?" he growled. "I thought you said you were in Topeka!"
"We were, and I am not Mallory," Amitiel replied calmly. "This is Claire Novak and her mother, Amelia. Please protect them. I must find Dean and Sam before they stumble into the trap." She turned to look at Claire. "Goodbye, Claire. I will see you soon." Then her gaze transferred to Crow. "Take care of Claire," she told him. The next second, she was gone.
Claire blinked, lifting her eyes from where Amitiel had been standing. Bobby was staring at her as if she was a ghost...or something. She offered him a tiny smile. "Hi."
XxxXxxX
There very nearly was a car accident when the girl appeared in the backseat of the Impala while Dean was pushing ninety. There was barely a minute between his glances to the rear view mirror for police lights, but during one the backseat was empty, and the next Mallory was sitting in the middle, staring through the mirror at him with an intent expression.
"Jesus Christ!" Dean yelled, fighting to regain control of the car. Sam twisted around, eyes wild as he saw the girl.
"No," she said slowly, her brows drawing together.
"Mallory?" Sam said in disbelief. "What the hell—?" Then he caught sight of the bloodstain spread across her stomach. "Oh, God, are you—What's going on?"
"I am not Mallory," the girl said impatiently. "I'm Amitiel."
Sam's eyes went round. "Ami?" he breathed. "But we thought you were—"
"Dead, I know," she finished. "For a while I thought I was dead, so I'll forgive the mistake. You need to stop the car, Dean. You're driving into a trap."
"What?"
"Pull over and I'll tell you everything," Amitiel insisted. Dean obliged her before turning to stare at her, looking her up and down.
"You look terrible," he said bluntly.
Amitiel glanced down at herself and touched the bloodstain on her shirt with her fingertips. "It's not important," she said. "I've already taken care of the injury."
"Ami, what is going on?" Sam said, shaking his head.
The angel closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Heaven has sent an elimination team after Castiel and, now that they know I'm alive, they will come for me, as well. The angel sent after Claire used the demons to drive her and her mother from safety in order to kill Claire and use them both as bait to trap the two of you. Killing Mallory was a bonus." She touched the bloodstain again. "If I had not been there, Shoftiel would have succeeded."
"Wait a second," Dean interrupted. "You and Cas have angel hit men on your asses?"
She puzzled through that for a moment. "Yes?" she said hesitantly, unsure of whether she had interpreted the phrase correctly. She waved a hand before Dean could speak again. "Shoftiel will have received reinforcements by now. We have to find Castiel. When was the last time you spoke to him?"
"A couple of days," Sam began, but Amitiel cut him off.
"That's not much good. We won't be able to contact him, they're probably blocking your phones just like they blocked Mallory's."
Silence fell in the Impala for a moment. Then Sam cleared his throat to attract Amitiel's attention. "You, uh, you got," he trailed off and pointed wordlessly to his chin. Amitiel frowned and reached up to touch her own chin. Her fingertips came away bloody. She wiped the rest of the blood away with her sleeve.
"So what's our next move?" Dean demanded. Amitiel sighed.
"Castiel could be anywhere on earth. If I am going to find him before Shoftiel, then I need to begin now. You should return to Bobby's home and help him protect the Novaks. The angels will try for them again."
"No, we're coming with you," Dean insisted. "If you're going up against angels, you need back-up."
"Perhaps, but not from you," Amitiel said, shaking her head. "I will need to move quickly, and carrying passengers will only slow me down."
"We're big boys, Ami, we can keep up," Dean said. "Besides, it's not like you can stop us."
Amitiel gave him a flat look and vanished with the sound of wings and disturbed air. They boys blinked for a moment at the place where she had been, and then Sam reached over to smack Dean upside the head.
"Nice going, smartass," he growled.
XxxXxxX
Mallory drifted in the darkness for a long time before she realized she wasn't dead. That discovery drove her to full awakening, which in turn lead to two more discoveries. She could see, and she was in Moscow.
She wanted to scream with shock and not a little bit of joy, but her body wasn't responding to her commands. Rather than freak out, however, she only got more excited. Ami? Oh, my God, Ami, is that you?
"Hello, Mallory."
Mallory threw herself at the angel's presence, wanting to embrace her but only able to project her sheer giddiness at the fact Amitiel was alive. The angel chuckled softly.
"Yes, it's good to see you, too, child," Amitiel told her. "It's been hard for you over the past few weeks. I am sorry for that."
Who cares about that? Mallory said dismissively. You're back! She froze as a thought occurred to her. Wait, if you survived, then Belial didn't—?
"No, Belial is gone," Amitiel reassured her. "I made very certain of that."
Oh, good. Um...what are we doing in Moscow?
Amitiel stood in the middle of the Red Square, looking up at St. Basil's Cathedral. Cold rain poured down from the overcast sky, drenching Mallory's thin clothing. Mal couldn't care less because, for one, Ami was back! And two, she could see! She drank in the colors of the square hungrily.
"I am looking for Castiel," Amitiel replied. Mallory felt the angel flex her wings, shuffling the tawny feathers into place across her back. "I'm afraid I had to take a brief rest. The battle with Belial took more from me than I would like to admit."
Mallory's joy abruptly vanished into panic. Shoftiel said he was trying to kill Cas! she exclaimed worriedly. Ami, what are we gonna do?
"Find Castiel before he or the other eliminators do," Amitiel replied evenly. Mallory fell silent but she still fluttered restlessly around the back of Amitiel's mind until the angel sent a wave of soothing emotion towards the girl, helping her calm down.
Okay, Mallory said. We can do this. I mean, how hard can it be to find one angel among six billion humans?
Amitiel chuckled again and stretched her wings in preparation for departure. "Oh, Mallory, what you did for the Novaks," she said with a smile in her voice. "I just want you to know, I am so proud of you."