Chapter 8: An Angel's Wrath

Balthazar slowly opened his heavy eyelids. Groggy, disoriented, Balthazar felt a weird nausea seize his stomach.

"He's waking," growled a rasping male voice.

"He must not have drunk enough silene," replied a familiar female voice. The same voice as their manipulative bitch of a hostess. Balthazar lifted his heavy head, feeling completely drained and empty of all his angelic abilities.

He also saw the same tattooed man from before. His face was covered in tribal tattoos and his eyes glowed an ominous bright neon blue, supernatural like. He literally glowed in the dark, Balthazar thought dully as his sickness was already beginning to pass. He slowly regained semi-balance, his angelic abilities beginning to grow anew inside him.

The hostess sneered in disgust at Balthazar, her anger directed at him. "Take him under," she demanded of the heavily tattooed man.

Blue eyes stepped closer to Balthazar to examine him. Their gazes collided but all Balthazar could do at the moment was watch on helplessly. The creature raised his hands slowly then suddenly they sparkled with fiery blue flames. The creature reached out and touched Balthazar's face, cradling his cheek in his fiery blue palm. It wasn't painful as Balthazar had expected. He felt nothing but the sensation of the creature's hands. If Balthazar had any strength in him, he'd fight the bloody monster. But his body felt heavy and useless, his tongue thick and dried in his mouth.

The creature growled threatening at Balthazar. "He won't sleep…"

The hostess's stepped to them, her face pinched in a sneer. "What do you mean he won't sleep?"

Balthazar's tongue finally seemed to regain its ability to function as he said in a thick slur, "I already had my nap for the day, bitch."

Anger flashed over her pasty white skin as she seethed. "Kill him, he knows too much already."

"What about the other one?" the creature asked, glancing over to a figure strung up next to him. Balthazar attempted to look to the figure besides him, when he suddenly noticed that he was standing in a rather compromising position himself. Rope bound his arms and wrists above his head as a thick needle stuck out of his throat, draining his vessel of precious blood.

"He's still sleeping but he won't come back here if his friend vanishes. Might as well kill him too," she responded drily as she stalked back to the door, her heels clacking loudly. Balthazar watched her with hatred burning in his eyes. He knew she was speaking of Sam. Who else could it be if not his hunter?

He ruthlessly curled his fingers into the rope, pulling at it with what little strength he had regained. He was more determined now than ever to kill this woman and the creature holding him hostage. Nobody captured him. He was Balthazar the angel. Someone you didn't fuck with, he thought viciously.

He listened to the sounds of the woman locking the room behind her, trapping him inside with the blue eyed creature.

Balthazar began to slowly feel his powers reinvigorate him. The blue creature wasn't the one that stole his powers, something else had. Something unseen...

Suddenly the creature pulled out a long, malicious knife from inside his robe. It glinted in the light of his bright eyes. Balthazar twisted his hands in the knot above his head. He still wasn't yet strong enough to pull completely free.

A guttural moan sounded from besides Balthazar. He knew that moan… Sam! He desperately tried to see the hunter put his body was bound awkwardly. A growl erupted from the creature's throat as he stalked over to Sam, knife in hand. Fear leapt into Balthazar's heart as he twisted wildly at the rope now, letting his strength and powers fill him, letting the surge fill his vessel. Sam wouldn't die. Sam couldn't die. Not like this!

The rope snapped above him. Balthazar stumbled away, frantically pulling free of the rope which had twisted around his hands before yanking the needle out of his neck. Blood splattered his skin and the floor. The creature rounded on him instantly, snarling and letting out a hissing war-cry as he ran at him.

Balthazar might have regained some of his strength back but not all of it. He tried to dodge the creature but it was too fast, slamming into Balthazar's chest, sending them crashing backwards against the wall. He threw a hard punch into the side of the creature's face but it seemed unaffected by it as it snapped its' teeth and grabbed Balthazar by the throat. Thoroughly pissed off now, Balthazar dug his heels into the ground, feeling his powers regain momentum as he flung away from the creature's hold around him and slammed a hard fist into the center of his chest. The creature was sent flying backwards into the air and across the room, landing with a hard thud

Balthazar waved his hand into the air and twisted it into a fist. The creature still on the floor began whimpering and writhing painfully as Balthazar gripped his insides and ground them into muss. He continued to hold the creature like this as he saw Sam, his hunter, strung up like cattle about to be slaughtered. His face was pale, his eyes closed and body unmoving. A needle stuck from his neck, draining his blood. Draining his life. A horrible rage filled Balthazar as he twisted his fist harder, making the creature squeal and cry out in sweet, beautiful agony.

Balthazar noticed the knife on the floor in front of the creature. He seized the knife and with his powers, forced the creature to lift his neck, exposing the throat. Without hesitation, without second thoughts, Balthazar viciously slit the monster's throat. Blood spurted from the gaping wound as the blue eyed monster died. With a cool wave of his hand, he sent the lifeless corpse of the creature away and out of his path to Sam.

Sam was motionless, his ropes drawn taunt around his wrists, biting into his flesh. A dull, almost numb feeling overcame Balthazar then as he carefully pulled out the needle that dripped with the hunter's blood. Balthazar cut the ropes with a wave of his hand. He gingerly caught Sam around the chest, hauling his large frame up against his.

He knelt, cradling Sam's head in his hands. He absently stroked the side of his face, pushing the fallen strands of hair out of his eyes. Balthazar sat quietly with him in his arms, too scared to talk, to numb to feel anything. He nearly lost Sam… he nearly died… and unlike angels, humans didn't return from such brutal violence. Yet he knew Sam was strong. He was a fighter. A warrior. A lethal hunter. Nothing could stop him once he went after them. But he was also kind, absurdly intelligent, loyal and… wonderful. And Balthazar hadn't protected him. He lied to him- made him believe in him when Sam should have been running in the opposite direction.

Balthazar was a liar and a cheat. Someone who only looked out for number one. Survival and all that. He didn't deserve Sam's loyalty or trust. He didn't deserve Sam. Period. Balthazar felt Sam stir in his arms. He checked the hunter's pulse. It beat slowly, but it pulse nonetheless.

Suddenly a sound of flapping wings filled the room and Cas appeared at the door, stoic and passive as usual. His eyes widened though when he saw Balthazar on the floor with Sam. He stepped towards them, alarmed. "What happened?"

"A creature- something, I don't know. Anyway- it's dead." Balthazar breathed slowly, trying to remain calm and collected while he spoke to Cas, though all he could think about was the unconscious Sam Winchester in his arms.

"Is he alive?" Cas asked almost carefully, seeing the pain in Balthazar's eyes, though he knew he face was blank of all emotions.

"Yes, he lives." Balthazar pulled off his jacket and slipped it underneath Sam's head, pillowing it while he got to his feet.

"Balthazar," Cas said softly.

Balthazar didn't reply as he glanced one last time at the hunter but only able to see the deathly pale skin and the blood trickling down his neck. "Stay here," he demanded coldly of Cas before vanishing.

Dean glared angrily at the hostess. "I want to see my brother. I know he came in here. So you better start talkin'."

The gothic chick stood rigidly behind the counter, her face cold as her dead-like skin. "I can't help you with that, sir. Or clients expect their privacy to be upheld when they enter an establishment like this."

"Aw- bullshit, I know my brother's in here. I'll check every damn room if I have too," Dean shot back threateningly.

Two large guards suddenly walked through the double doors of the club, their burly figures were intimidating to say the least. Dean pretended indifference to the big lugs, "Hey guys- you mind tellin' your boss here that I've got some business in there."

They said nothing, simply glared dangerously at Dean under lower eyebrows. Dean had a feeling that they were just waiting for him to make a move so they could smash him into tiny little bits. Good thing he told Cas to check out the rooms and find Sam before he tried to reason with the clubs hostess. He didn't know if she was aware that there was a creature stealing blood from her clients and possibly lives, or if she was the one who opened the back door for it. It had been dark and hard to tell if it had been her- inviting in danger, literally.

But still, with five people gone missing from the establishment, something had to be up. He just knew it.

"You're not getting inside, sir. I'm sorry but you're just going to have to wait for your brother to return home or try calling him in a few hours. I'm sure he'll be happy to talk to you once he's left here."

She seemed to believe Sam would be fine and would leave this place- alive. But still there was something off about this woman. Not her piercings, pale skin or weird clothes but something else. He just couldn't put his finger on it.

He really didn't want to barge in, guns blazing. But a brother's gotta do, what a brother's gotta do. And if this emo-chick didn't want to let him in, then he would force his way in.

Just as Dean reached for the gun in his waistband, a sound of flapping wings echoed through the front entrance. He waited, expecting to see Cas appear. But nothing happened. He glanced around, looking for the trench coat. Suddenly the two large men standing guard at the entrance, let out howls of pain. Dean watched in stunned silence as the men crumbled to their knees, crying out in agony. Then he saw who was causing the men's torment. Balthazar stood behind them, knuckles fisted in rage, his eyes blazing with a raw, unemotional fierceness that startled even Dean.

Dean pulled out his gun instinctively, not knowing if he was in danger at the moment or if Balthazar was helping him. The woman behind the counter let out a strangled gasp as she ran toward a backdoor. Dean went after her, the sounds of dying men echoing in the mansion. But before he could make it to her, Balthazar reappeared, blocking her escape.

She began chanting something quickly under her breath. Balthazar's eyes blazed angrily at this and viciously grabbed her around the throat and squeezed. Dean held up his gun to the angel, alarmed that Balthazar could be so brutal, even cruel.

"Balthazar!" Dean cried out, his gun pointed at the angel. He knew the gun was useless on an angel but it gave Dean a sense of comfort.

Balthazar seemed not to have heard him, his eyes still narrowed, face taunt with his rage. The woman kicked and clawed at Balthazar, fighting for air, for her life. Dean wasn't going to watch him kill someone- not like this at least.

"Balthazar! God damnit- stop!" Dean shouted loudly.

Finally the rouge angel's cold blue eyes shot to him, his face tense but Dean saw his grip slacken on the woman's throat.

"What the hell is going on!" Dean bit out angrily at the angel, wanting some friggin answers before he started shooting.

Balthazar gritted his teeth and lowered the woman back to the ground and released his death grip. She stumbled away, gasping and coughing, her hand covering her raw throat. "She tried to kill me," Balthazar said lightly, an icy cold smile on his lips.

Dean lowered his gun slightly, keeping it out just in case the angel became enraged again. "Okay…" Dean glanced to the woman, who was still trying to catch her breath. "You better start talkin' lady, or I might just let him kill you."

Her dark eyes widened at him then back to Balthazar. She stepped away, fearful. "I didn't do anything…" she whispered hoarsely. Balthazar's face contorted furiously as he stepped threateningly towards her. She instantly coward away, fear making her face paler, if possible.

"Hey! Hold on!" Dean shouted again at Balthazar. Trying to keep this lion tethered seemed pointless. "Look lady, I don't know what you did to piss him off. But whatever it is- you better start explainin' or I swear to God the next time you lie to us, I will let him rip you to pieces."

That finally got both their attention. Balthazar sent him a cool look of approval before taking a step away from her and leaning against the door she had attempted to escape from earlier. Balthazar had the appearance of utter calm, even a stillness which he exuded from his lean body that relaxed into the door, yet Dean knew better. Balthazar was a snake. One minute he's still, almost immobile, the next- he strikes and you're dead.

"Explain what happened tonight," Balthazar demanded coolly some of his rage tampering off.

She eyed him suspiciously, then straightened, trying to compose herself.

"Starting from the moment you gave me a drink," Balthazar said, directing her.

She licked her lips nervously before she started her story, "I gave you a cocktail laced with silene."

Dean recognized the name instantly, "the dream root?"

A mild hint of surprise crossed her face to Dean. She nodded, "Yes. That's how we control people here." Her eyes darted to the dead guards. "Until I met a djin."

Thunderstruck, Dean could only stare at her in disbelief, "So what? You teamed up with a monster and opened a nightclub?" he asked incredulously.

She shrugged, "I graduated college with a degree in sleep, you can say. I needed money and the only thing I was good at was dreams. And you can't exactly profit from that- in the real world at least." Her eyes stayed locked on Dean, as though not wanting to see the face of doom from Balthazar. "I had the idea of the club. People wanting to escape the real world- and cross over into a world they controlled and built themselves. I knew about the dream root and its' powers. I managed to create a more stable version of it and laced the cocktails, unaware by the clients of course." Her stance became sure, almost proud as she continued. "I had managed to create a living, breathing reality of peoples most desirable fantasies and cherished moments. I was giving them a gift."

"All they had to do was give you their credit card and blood," Dean retorted.

She narrowed her eyes disdainfully, "I had to make a living. Dream root is not exactly cheap or easy to find. So yes, I make a profit from it. It's the only logical conclusion."

"Get to the part where bright eyes get involved, eh?" Balthazar asked in a harsh, steely tone.

She shot Balthazar a contemptuous look. "The dream root doesn't last very long. Clients would push the limits and the dream root would no longer have an effect on them. And my business is supported on the backs of regulars. So I had to make an improvement to the cocktail and fast. Except I didn't know how." She hesitated, her eyes glancing back at the guards, knowing that would be her fate if she didn't tell the truth. "I did some research. Came across the myth of the djin. I didn't know they were real. But somehow- they were and I managed to find one, through a friend of friend. Black market dealings in the supernatural gave me information on where to find one. From there, I tracked down my own personal djin. And we made a deal…"

Balthazar smiled cruelly, "Blood for dreams."

She glanced at him unsure, then with a quick nod she answered, "yes. The cocktail was the first phase. Once they were in the room and asleep, the djin would go in, take them deeper into the dream world, while taking his cut of the deal."

"Just say it," Balthazar whispered menacingly. "You made a deal with the devil for money."

She returned Balthazar's cold stare. "I didn't anticipate it going this far. But a few woke up from their dreams, with their blood being drained- I couldn't have them compromise my business. So I had to let the djin take them."

Dean couldn't believe this woman. The idea of making a deal with an evil creature for profit. She was as evil as the monster she hired. "Where's my brother?" he asked suddenly, not wanting to hear anything else this terrible woman had to say.

Her eyes darted to Balthazar then. He simply glared at her, the fire returning suddenly to his eyes.

"Oh I forgot to tell you Dean- I wasn't the only one she tried to kill this evening." Balthazar's said indifferently.

Dean's heart plummeted. "Is that true?" he asked demandingly from the woman.

She glowered at Balthazar then back to Dean. He read the truth all over her face. He instantly raised his gun and aimed it at her now.

"Dean…" Cas's rough, hard voice erupted from the doorway. He glanced over to see Cas who was shouldering his brother. Sam's arm was draped loosely around Cas's shoulders, his waist pulled tight against the angel in effort to keep him on his feet. Sam's face was pale, his eyes closed. Cas must have read the fear on Dean's face because he answered reassuringly, "he's alive."

Dean whipped his head around, back to the bitch who tried to kill his little brother. Balthazar had descended on her though. The angel's fearsome rage was something to behold as Balthazar glared down at the helpless woman, a tauntingly cruel smile on his face. She trembled and visibly shook with fear, knowing she was going to meet her fate with this angel. Balthazar laid a hand on her shoulder and seconds later, they vanished.

Dean swallowed, he too felt that woman's fear at the menacing sight of Balthazar. He glanced back at Cas. Cas met his gaze with an anxious one. "We should go," he finally said after a moment.

"What about the djin?" Dean asked moving quickly to the other side of Sam and helping Cas.

"Balthazar killed it," Cas replied drily.

They began making their way to the Impala. The night air was cold and biting. Yet the moment Dean felt it on his face, it was invigorating. "Is Balthazar gonna kill that girl?"

He knew the answer to that question before he asked Cas.

"Yes," Cas answered. "I've never seen him so vengeful. I fear for that woman's fate. But- Balthazar's wrath is justified."

Dean snorted, "whatever. Balthazar did me a favor. Cause I was still debatin' on shootin' her."

Cas gave him a disbelieving look before lowering Sam into the backseat of the Impala.

TBC