NEXT
Benoit kept a firm grip on his captive, pulling him as he struggled and kicked up to the threshold. He gripped him tighter, and stilled him with a threatening gesture. As Bobby eyed him warily, Ben put his mouth close to his ear. "Trust me.." he whispered. Bobby had a mere second to meet his eye. Ben nodded slightly, reassuring him as Cecille descended the steps to view the intruder.
"Caught him sneaking around out there. Two more of them in the trees." Benoit said.
Cecille looked her guest over smiled icily. "I know you...you were at the Blackbird. How's my darling Dean? Hasn't blown that beautiful head off yet?"
Bobby struggled against the hold but Ben's big hand was a steel vice on his neck. Benoit growled, "What you want me to do with him, then? Tie him up and get them other two?"
She nodded dismissively. "Yeah, take him up to the blue room, and tie him tight." She headed out to the oaks where the dog was still viciously circling the tree of Winchesters.
Standing under the tree, Cecille laughed, and called the dog back. It sat at her feet, teeth still bared, but quiet for the moment. "Hello, lover." she sang up to the leaves. "Best you stay up there for now. Brutus here; he doesn't like to share me with anyone."
Dean kicked a shower of moss and bark bits at her. "Bitch! Are you having fun? Hope you enjoyed it, cuz it's over now!"
She laughed again, thoroughly enjoying herself. "Oh honey...fun's only starting." She turned away and yelled up to the house. "Benoit! Hurry up and get your lazy ass down here, I want these two upstairs—now!"
Ben had pulled Bobby into the room she referred to as the 'blue' one. It was huge; with ceilings that must have been well over ten feet. It was a faded beauty; walls of robin's egg blue, stenciled with ornate floral scrolls in rose and cream and gold, now yellowed and peeling. Heavy plaster medallions, missing sections now- decorated the cracking ceiling.
Cecille must have used it as a sort of bachelor apartment, she had both a sofabed and a dining table set up. The table was strewn with bundles of grass, string, scissors, bits of cloth, and other things. It looked like a craft studio, as if she were making things; innocent decorative items like natural wreaths and bouquets. -or dolls. Bobby scanned the room quickly as he was led through it. The grass effigies were lying on every surface; some complete-some apparently waiting for their new identity. Apparently she had quite a few vendettas. He saw no book of any kind.
"Sorry about the cut, there..." Benoit said, his voice low. "Only way to get you all in here past that mutt without her suspecting." He beckoned Bobby to quickly sit on one of the dining chairs, and he tied his hands loosely behind, making it appear decently secure. "That ok? You think you can get loose from that?"
"Think so." Bobby whispered, still a little bewildered by the sudden turn.
"Ok. I'm gonna get them other two, same deal." He headed toward the door, but looked back with a fearful glance. "You buggers better not screw this up, you hear? You got one shot at this, and if you don't get her, I'm f~cked along with you!"
Bobby nodded.
Cecille drew something from her jacket pocket, holding it up for them to see. "Look, darling...isn't it sweet? My own little Dean. Almost like having the real thing."
Dean looked down at the hideous little figure. Such a stupid little thing...he could hardly believe it was the source of all his pain. The tuft of hair she'd stolen from him was tied to the grass head, and on its middle a bundle made from the cloth of his shirt, containing his thumb nail and marked with streaks of dried blood. It wasn't what he'd expected. Somehow he'd pictured it as more of a real likeness of himself. This looked more like some sort of well-used cat toy. "You're sick, you know that?" he growled.
Sam stayed silent. He desperately tried to think of some way to get to her without being torn limb from limb by Brutus. As if reading his mind, she said something to the dog, and it instantly returned to its aggressive circling of the tree.
Benoit jogged up and reached her side. "He's up there now, tied."
"Good. Take that one first—" she ordered, pointing at Dean. "And watch out; he's a slippery one." She called off the dog and ordered Dean to get down. He had no choice but to obey; there was nothing useful to be gained by staying in the tree, especially since she was going to regain the power to use the doll against him at any moment. He'd probably end up falling out of it and breaking his neck. He dropped to the ground, and the dog rushed him with teeth bared, but she stopped him just short. Ben grabbed Dean by the neck, again keeping his knife firmly at his throat, and dragged him into the house.
Sam remained in the tree, convinced to do so by the dog. Cecille looked up at him. "So...who are you then? His friend? Family?"
"He's my brother."
"Brother, huh. Too bad. He was done along time ago, you know...you couldn't save him. Shoulda stayed out of it, then you'd just have the funeral to go through. Now you got a real problem."
"Where'd you get the book, Cecille?"
She was taken aback. So they all knew of it, not just Dean. No one around her understood of the source of her strength, they just thought she was some sort of skilled voodoo practitioner. But she shrugged, no harm in telling now. "I found it in my grandmama's things. This was her house; she died and left it to me. How do you know about that?"
"It's my business to know. We came here for it, we've been tracking it for a while. We got lucky when Dean bedded you, it led us right to you."
She frowned. It was a blow to her ego that Dean had wanted something other than her alone that night. "Well, I don't think our poor Dean's gonna think it's so lucky. You gonna get to see first hand how it's all done. Then you gonna get to feel it." She walked away from him, leaving the dog behind.
"Jesus, quit squirming, man! I told you I was gonna get you in the house without that dog tearing you up." Benoit released Dean, cautioning him, "Now shut up and listen. Got your friend tied up there, loose enough to get free, ok? Gonna do the same for you two. After that, I'm done; it's all up to you. She got the Ben doll in her pocket; she can drop me, screaming, if I even look at her wrong, understand?" he hissed.
Dean nodded. He did understand. "Thanks, man."
Ben took him up to the same room, and sat him beside Bobby, tying him the same way. "Don't you let me down!" he whispered tersely, leaving to retrieve the third captive.
Dean leaned toward Bobby. "You ok?"
"Yeah. I don't see the book anywhere, but I'm guessing it'll come out when she comes up here. How do you want to play this?"
"Not sure yet...we'll see how it goes first. If she shows the book, I'm just gonna tackle her, but if the dog's in here it'll be complicated. No matter what happens; you get your hands on that book and don't let go, ok?"
"I hear you."
Benoit returned with Sam and Cecille. The dog trotted in behind her. He pushed Sam roughly into another chair and feigned a tight binding of his hands while she watched. He covertly tapped his captive's wrist three times, hoping he understood. Then he pinched Sam's arm for good measure. Sam growled a protest to the sting, satisfying Cecille that he was tightly secured.
"Well, so nice to have some visitors." she sneered. "Dean honey, aren't you gonna introduce me to these good people?"
He sneered in response. "Well sure. Guys; this is Cecille. She's a bar skank that followed me home. And Cecille; these are the people who are gonna watch me kick your scrawny ass."
She slapped his face, hard. "Watch your mouth, honey. You gotta show your woman respect! Didn't your mama teach you properly?"
She cleared a space on the table and selected two of the unfinished figures. She hummed to herself and laid them down alongside the Dean doll. "You boys shoulda stayed home today. You know what I can do; you see poor Dean, there; crying and moaning...un-manned everyday by the hurt I put on him. You'd think you'd learn something from that."
-Un-manned? Dean scowled. That was a low blow. "Look, you skuzzy fish-whore; you and me may have issues, but these two are nothing to you. Let them go; then you can try to 'un-man' me all you want. We'll see who comes out on top!"
She spun and back-handed him hard again, splitting his lip and drawing blood. He growled a curse and spat it at her.
Sam caught his eye and shook his head, willing him to stop antagonizing her. But Dean knew that the longer he distracted her, the longer the others would have to work their hands free.
"What's the matter, Cecille? I rode you good and hard ...just like you were begging for, right? So what are you getting all bent outa shape for? Me, on the other hand...well, I should've known you get your money's worth from a free carnival ride. Actually, I can barely remember it. I thought you'd slipped me something at first, but then I realized it was just 'cuz it wasn't worth remembering. Hell, I even forgot your name, just ask Sam. Yeah, we laughed about that for days!"
She grabbed a handful of his hair in fury, yanking his head back and digging her nails into his throat. "You shut your mouth, you filthy liar! Nobody forgets Cecille! I could make you remember for the rest of your miserable life, but you not gonna live long enough!"
Benoit was standing by, awaiting her instruction. He didn't particularly want to be around when it went down. He didn't want to see it fail. "Cecille, what you call me for anyway? I got to get home."
She turned on him viciously. "If I call you here, you just wait—ok? I'm your priority, not your snotty brats!"
He looked down, appearing cowed. But a little smile played around his mouth. He knew something about the evening...something she didn't. He looked up and met Dean's eye.
Benoit had been her virtual slave for months. For the first time in ages, he felt a little hope.
