Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap
Concrete shoes, cyanide, TNT
Done dirt cheap
Neckties, contracts, high voltage
Done dirt cheap
- AC/DC
Pulling up across the street, all three were momentarily stunned by the sight of the gleaming white -stone building.
"It looks like some place Napoleon stayed in," Devi observed.
Sam let out a sigh. "Which means lots of security," he turned to his brother, "How do you want to play this? With suits, we could probably pass for guests."
"Just walking in the front isn't an option," Dean narrowed his eyes speculatively. "That demon said they're watching the lobby."
"And I'm willing to bet all the other doors need a keycard to open," Sam added.
"Couldn't we wait at a side door until someone comes out, then duck in?" Devi suggested.
"They'll have cameras on the doors – couple of guys lurking in the bushes would look pretty suspicious," Sam explained.
"Yeah, we've already had the cops called on us once tonight," Dean agreed. He turned back to Devi, casting an evaluative look over her. "The demons probably wouldn't recognize you," he theorized. "You think you could go in the front without tipping them off?"
"I don't have a suit," Devi pointed out. She thought for a moment, then snapped her fingers, "But even rich people get grody when they sweat. I could just change into my running clothes."
They changed in the car. Devi, being used to locker room conditions, managed well enough on the floor of the backseat, but Sam and Dean struggled to share space in the front. Dean had just finished telling Sam to "Get your giant orangutan arms out of my face!" when Devi popped her head up.
"Once I'm in, which door do I go to?" she asked.
"This one closest to us," Sam pointed across the street, trying to do up his shirt buttons with one hand. "We'll be there five minutes – is that enough time?"
Devi nodded, and began to slide out of the car.
"Knife," Dean reminded as he knotted his tie.
Devi looked uncertain, "I don't know..."
"Take it," Dean insisted. When she still hesitated, biting her lip, he turned around in the seat, looking serious. "Listen, I know you're worried about the person possessed, but if it comes down to you or a demon, you make sure it's not you."
Devi sighed, but nodded and strapped the blade across her back, pulling a hoodie on over it.
"Just play it cool until we get in there, okay?" Sam advised.
"Don't try to take on half a dozen demons by myself – got it," Devi affirmed with an ironic tilt of her eyebrow. "Remember to bring my spray bottle." She turned toward the hotel, squared her shoulders, and carefully crossed the street.
As she crossed the patterned cobblestones of the front circle, she felt her nervousness growing. The prickly warning sensation of her demon-sense strengthened with each step. She took a deep breath, releasing it in relief when the doorman swung open the glass-pane door, giving her a slight nod: first hurdle overcome. She held her head up as she crossed the lobby, trying to move at a pace that was brisk, but not panicked, and hoping no-one asked any questions. She felt her demon-sense drawn towards a set of comfortable chairs by a window, like iron filings to a magnet, and studiously looked anywhere but that direction.
She managed to get to the elevators without mishap, and turned into the wing of the hotel nearest to the Impala. She glanced around and, seeing no-one, took a moment to study a plaque outlining escape routes in case of fire, checking to make sure she was going the right way.
"Can I help you, miss?"
Devi jumped at the voice, and turned to see a man in a hotel uniform looking at her with a supercilious air.
"Are you lost?" he asked.
"I'm looking for the gym," she lied, trying not to bristle at the hint of disdain in his tone.
"That would be in the East wing," he advised. "I would be happy to show you the way." He didn't sound happy.
"Thanks, but I'm sure I can find it on my own," she replied.
"I insist," he said, and turned down the hall, looking over his shoulder to make sure she was following.
Devi trailed after him, thinking hard. He was leading her away from her goal, and the way they were going would take them past the lobby again. She would have to think of an excuse to shake him.
"Oh, hey, I think my iPod is dying," she said suddenly. "I'll just run back up to my room to get my charger." She pulled an abrupt u-turn before the man could object.
Dean and Sam were waiting by the street, approaching the door when they saw her wave through the window.
"You get lost?" Dean asked. Devi just shot him an aggravated look. They slipped into the staircase.
"Any idea what room this chick is in?" Dean said, looking at Sam.
"The one with demons standing guard?" Sam suggested with a grin, and Dean rolled his eyes. "I'm guessing the big, fancy suites are top floor," Sam went on. "Probably labeled by name rather than number – there's only one Presidential."
Dean paused at the door at the top of the steps, carefully peering through the slim window. Seeing no-one, he opened the door a crack, straining his ears. He was about to move, when Devi grabbed his arm. He looked back, and she shook her head. A few seconds later, a tall man in a sharp suit strolled around the bend in the hallway, his footfalls muffled by the plush carpet. Dean let the door shut, holding a hand against it to keep it quiet. The tall man in the suit came to the hall's end, stood for a moment as if looking out the window, then turned and sauntered back up the hall.
Devi and the Winchesters let out a collective sigh of relief. Dean holstered his gun and pulled out the engraved Bowie.
"Dean, let me," Sam advised quietly. "He's my height."
Dean hesitated, and Sam raised his eyebrows at him, lips pursed as he held out his hand insistently. Dean sighed and passed over the knife.
Sam rose and eased the door open, edging forward on the balls of his feet. He was surprisingly quiet for his size. Creeping up behind the tall demon, he clapped a hand over his target's mouth and slid the blade expertly between his ribs. There was a sputtering noise and glow of light, and the man slumped back in his arms. Sam dragged the body back and deposited it in the stairwell, searching through the man's pockets until he found a key card. The whole thing had taken less than thirty seconds.
Dean nodded approvingly, "One down, seven to go." He took the lead now, drawing the angel blade out of his breast pocket and holding it defensively in front of him.
Sam passed Devi her bottle. "Holy water, right?"
"Yeah, I got the idea from a book," Devi affirmed.
Sam smiled, then nodded for her to follow Dean, falling into place behind her.
The hotel consisted of two wings situated in a wide "V;" the fire escape plan showed the Presidential at the meeting point of the wings. They cautiously approached the midpoint of the hallway, but were surprised to find no standing at the whitewashed double-doors.
Dean frowned and turned back to Devi, mouthing, "How many?"
Devi narrowed her eyes, focusing, before holding up three fingers. He nodded, shot Sam a look, and slid the card into the lock. Two more men in suits were seated in the lounge. They leapt up as the Winchesters rushed the room. One barely had time to register what was happening before Dean drove the blade into his chest.
The other was quicker on his feet, drawing his own angel blade and squaring up with Sam. The demon swayed lightly on his feet, shifting from side to side as he looked for an opening. Sam held his ground, waiting. When the demon lunged towards his side, Sam shifted his hip out of the way and seized his attacker's wrist with his left hand. He jerked the demon forward, holding the Bowie low, point upward. The demon stumbled and fell directly on the knife.
Devi followed the brothers in. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a red-haired woman stick her head out of the bedroom, then immediately whisk out of sight. Devi darted after her, just managing to slid her blade between the jam and the door as the woman slammed it shut. The door rebounded, and Devi followed, using it as a shield.
The woman stood in the middle of the room, arms spread and mouth open, clearly prepared to smoke out. Devi directed a stream of holy water at her, and the woman's alabaster skin steamed. Her eyes flicked red, and she snarled, stalking towards Devi, who kept spraying. The woman growled, and swiped at Devi's face, fingers arched like claws. Devi ducked to the side, and felt the wall at her back.
This is bad, she realized, as the woman clawed at her again, scoring the wallpaper beside her head. The holy water didn't seem to be slowing her down.
"You'll need to be packing more than that to deal with me, girl," the redhead hissed, lashing out.
Devi ducked once more, but this time, her opponent anticipated her movement and caught her across the face with her other hand. She then seized Devi's wrist, jerking the spray-bottle out of her face and slamming the hand that held it against the wall. Devi dropped the bottle. The demon wrapped her other hand around Devi's throat, and Devi felt nails dig into the back of her neck.
The demon was abruptly pulled away from her, and she saw Dean throw the woman against the bed, crouching beside her with the angel blade held threateningly under her chin. Sam came through the bedroom door an instant after, noting his brother had things under control before turning to Devi.
"You okay? You're bleeding," he observed.
"Yeah, 'm fine," Devi said shakily, swiping at the blood on her check. She glanced down to the knife she held in a death-grip in her other hand. She hadn't used it – she couldn't. There was a human somewhere in that stolen skin.
"You Rosier?" Dean growled to the demon on the floor.
Devi took the opportunity to study her properly. Red hair, red dress, red nail-polish, lipstick... I'm sensing a trend, she thought. "Rosier" – looks like she's taking that pun and running with it.
The demon sneered, but didn't answer. Sam helped Dean haul her up and set her on the bed, and Dean waved the angel blade in her face again. "You're going to tear up those contracts, all of them," he threatened, "or this is going to get real ugly, real fast."
She grinned slowly, "Oh, it's going to get ugly, alright."
Devi drew in a sharp breath as her hackles rose, the hair on her neck standing up, and she darted sideways from the door. A fist slammed into the wall where she had been standing an instant before, a wheeling blow dealt by a husky man in a suit who'd appeared in the doorway. There were more men behind him.
"Sam! Dean!"
Both men turned at her shout, and Rosier seized her chance, clamping one hand around Dean's wrist to pull the blade from her neck and grabbing his collar with the other, jerking him down into a vicious headbutt. Dean fell back with his nose streaming blood.
Sam rushed the man in the door, ramming the Bowie into his stomach and shoving the body backwards into the crowd trying to get through the door. Sam was in their way, and two of the demons rushed him, one going high, the other low. The first took Sam's knife through his throat, but the second wrapped his arms around Sam's long legs, toppling him to the ground. The next demon through the door drew an angel blade and stalked to where Sam was struggling to kick free of his attacker.
Devi ran towards them, seeing Dean get up out of the corner of her eye. A fourth demon intercepted her, throwing a thick arm her around her waist. Winded though she was, she slashed her knife across his back. He stumbled to his knees, dragging her down, and she kicked to get free of him.
She heard Dean shout Sam's name, looked up to see the older Winchester grappling with a fifth demon. Each man was struggling to bring to an angel blade to bear against the restraining grip of his opponent. Meanwhile, Sam was striving to get up, his hand clenched around the throat of the demon that stubbornly clung to his arm, keeping him from using his knife. The third demon reached Sam, planting one foot on his chest and grinning wickedly as he drew his own blade.
Devi leapt over the body of the first demon killed, rushing to reach Sam in time. A hand, slim but painfully strong, gripped her arm, nailed digging in.
"Got you, you little bitc-!" Rosier shrieked in pain as Devi flicked her knife out, laying her arm open to the bone.
The seer didn't even break stride. Sam's assailant was half bent over, right arm outstretched as he plunged his knife downward. Devi drove her weapon under the arm into his exposed side, putting her whole body into the blow. The demon's eyes widened, beetle-black dissolving to pained brown.
Devi wrenched her knife out of the body and planted a thunderous kick into the side of the other demon holding Sam down, actually lifting the fiend's bodily off all four limbs. Sam jerked his arm free, and slammed his knife home.
Dean finally overpowered his own opponent, wrenching the demon's knife hand up and out of the way, and pushing his own blade into the man's chest. He whirled back towards Sam, fury on his face, but the younger man was already rising. Dean then turned to Rosier, but Devi beat him to it, slamming the demon against the wall.
"Cancel the contracts," she ordered, holding her blade tip over the woman's heart. Her voice was cold and dead, but tremor ran through her arm.
"Or what?" Rosier asked softly. "You couldn't do it before. Don't think I didn't notice."
Devi's eyes narrowed, and she tightened her grip on the knife, but didn't move.
Rosier chuckled, "Heat of battle's one thing, but it seems you don't quite have the stomach for killing in cold blood. What a pity."
"There's a long, hard road between where you are now and dead," Dean growled from over Devi's shoulder. He came to stand next to her, his own blade ready.
Rosier turned to look at him, her expression closed, "Is that so? Well, good luck with that." With that, her mouth gaped and she smoked out. Neither Dean nor Devi had any way to stop her. Once the smoke vanished, the body slumped bonelessly to the floor. Devi jumped backwards, kneeling and feeling for a pulse. She hung her head – nothing.
Dean sighed, crouching next to her. He shifted the low, draped collar of the redhead's dress a few inches over, revealing a circular scar on the woman's chest.
"Is that...?" Devi began.
"Bullet-wound," Dean confirmed, "Probably lethal, but it's healed, maybe years ago. This body was dead the minute Rosier ditched."
The seer stood, still staring numbly at the still form. Her gaze wandered to man with the slash across his back, to the one with a ragged slit in his side, then down to the blood on her knife. She drew a shaky breath.
"Hey," Dean shook her shoulder. "You did what you had to." He brushed by her on the way to the door, "Come on, we need to go – someone will have heard that."
