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A/N: Thank you all who read, those who added this story to their alerts, and Avari for reviewing! Enjoy!
Chapter Ten
Jonquil ran her hands through her hair. She was shaking. Death was at her door, made by her own devices. She was angry again, for her failure. Terrence proved her right. She needed to shape up. But how? How could she? No one would train her. Forget asking Sam and Dean. They would point out of the time constraints, or laugh, respectively. Jonquil slumped down to the floor.
Her mind was racing with how she could pull herself together. Her flaws were going to be the death of her. She could not fathom another escape from her own error. She had no choice but to pick up the slack. Hit the books and the field as it were.
Jonquil steadied her nerves and stood, ready to receive sleep with open arms, and hope for clarity in the morning.
"So where are we going today?"
Dean took the cup of coffee Sam handed him. The brothers looked at Jonquil, who was leaning against her pick up.
"New Mexico," she replied.
"After what?" asked Sam.
Jonquil watched their expressions, as they awaited her answer.
It seemed that they were intent on forgetting her break down the night before. Sam's glance was focused on the sun, and Dean looked at her expectantly. There was a tension in the air that suggested they were slightly worried about her mental state. Slightly.
"Well?" Dean could not wait much longer.
Jonquil had resolved to continue her training. She had woken up early, and began to read the texts she had stopped after her professor's death. She decided to do so even when her company would take her to a bar. She smirked at the thought of angering Dean, though in retrospect, when the field training part of her plan began, when she would ask them to train her, she would need a happy and pleased Dean, not an angry one.
"Earth to Sybil, we're asking you a question."
Jonquil's attention rose to Dean. She spoke.
"Lust."
Dean smirked. "All right, now we're going somewhere!"
"Shut up Dean."
The two turned to Sam, in surprise. His face was strewn with anger ad worry. He looked at Jonquil, a long hard look in his eyes. She shook and turned away. Now was not the time to bring to light all her problems.
Jonquil cleared her throat, turning back to Dean.
"Yes. Now it is a 'party'. But we have to go." She looked back at Sam. "Now."
Jonquil started for her pickup when Sam spoke.
"How much more are you going to keep from us?" The boy had been thinking for some time the night before.
"We had a deal," Dean said, crossing his arms.
Jonquil shut her eyes, wishing that things would be simpler. She turned to the Winchesters.
"What is there that you cannot be without? Trust me."
Deans scoffed. "Last time we trusted you, it nearly got us all killed. You're damn lucky we were there. How the hell were we supposed to know your special rite? You owe us that."
Jonquil's eyes narrowed at Dean, glancing occasionally to Sam. She spoke. "Do you want to know? Do you?"
"Yeah. We do. It would help make saving you a lot faster and easier. You wanted a team, you got one. It's your turn to start acting like we are one." Sam was stern.
"We're heading to Albuquerque. I've been tracking it for a bit. Lust has been circulating small towns around the area."
"How do you know?," he prodded on.
"Seventeen deaths. Over exertion. Sexual, obviously."
Sam cleared his throat and Dean grunted, a hand running on the back of his hair. The men made their way into the car. Dean paused in front of his door as Jonquil opened hers.
"This conversation isn't over Jonquil."
She stared at him briefly. She said nothing as she got in her pickup and turned on the ignition.
"!Ay! ¡Yay! ¡Yay! ¡Yay! ¡Canta y no llores! Porque cantando se alegra el cielito lindo los corazones…"
Dean was slightly irritated. Sam was not far from said point. The only one at peace seemed to be
Jonquil. She flipped the page of her heavy leather bound book. She looked up at the men.
"What?"
"This is the last time I ever let you pick a bar."
Dean had a grouchy look on his face as he grabbed his Corona. Sam looked around the seedy cantina, hoping for an escape, perhaps a restroom somewhere.
A small set of mariachis sang in high nasal voices, as the patrons of the bar continued to down whatever was in their glasses. The light was dim, and the corners of the bar were dingy. A buzzing green neon light above the bar counter was the brightest source of illumination in the cantina. The air was heavy with stifled hopes and forgotten dreams, all drowning in cheap alcohol.
Sam rubbed his shoulder, looking around. "Yeah. This place is just…How can any be in here? How can you even read? It's dark in here."
Jonquil smiled and put down her book. "I thought you guys would like this place…They cook too."
The men looked at her incredulously.
"I'm not eating anything from this dump."
"Anything else?" A voice from above called Dean's attention. Sam and Jonquil smirked.
A pretty waitress with doe brown eyes and full red lips stood behind him. A smile slowly crept up on Dean's lips. His eyes traveled her body and the smile grew wider.
"Why yes, there is…"
Jonquil shook her head and Sam turned away from his brother. Jonquil spoke, interrupting Dean's game. He frowned at her.
"No. Nothing. Another drink for these two."
The woman walked away, and Dean turned to watch. Sam jabbed his ribs. Dean turned to him, a reprimanded look in his face. The three waited in silence as the woman brought the drinks. The men took a drink.
Dean spoke. "What the hell was all that back in Seven Oaks? That little box? Everything?"
Sam's gaze was also focused on Jonquil. His eyes were steady. She sighed.
"Right now? Must we?"
Sam nodded. "Yes. Right now."
"I'd rather not."
Dean put his drink down. "You'd rather not, Huh? Well how's about me and Sammy here walk out this bar and out of your life…'Cause to be honest doll, I'd rather not be here."
He looked around the seedy cantina. Sam was not about to let her off either.
"Look, we're spending valuable time here to help you. You need to help us help you. Okay? Just tell us what we need to know, it'll make things a lot easier. On all of us," he said.
Jonquil looked at the clock on the wall. 1:41 AM. Today was most definitely the worst birthday ever. And the sun hadn't even risen. She sighed.
"The box is called the Cunabula de Rectum. In it are seven glass vials, cradles if you will, for the sins. With a blessed rosary, you lock the poor soul, and using the right words, you deliver the sucker into bed. That's it. What else do you need to know, aside from the 'magic words'?"
The men stared at her with hard eyes. Sam's eyes were glazed with disbelief. He spoke first.
"Magic words? Are you serious? You don't seem to understand how much we've put up at stake here to help you. And now you tell us this is job is…it's a joke?"
Jonquil's face was tired and overwhelmed, as she searched for the words to recuperate her lost alliance. She knew that having lost Sam would only hinder her progress even more.
"That's not what I meant! It's not a joke, you don't"—
Dean had his arms crossed and his glare bore into Jonnie like razors. Sam shook his head and stood up and looked down at Jonquil. Regret was in his eyes, but anger blotted his remorse out. He headed toward the door. Dean remained sitting, looking at the damsel in distress. There was something in his eyes that goaded Jonquil.
"You know, Sam was really on your side. But I can't say I didn't see it coming."
He stood up. Jonquil watched him. He pulled out some cash from his pocket, eyes still on hers.
"And I almost believed you."
Dean turned around and walked out of the cantina. Jonquil's eyes remained on the half drunk bottle of beer on the table.
"¿Señorita, una cancion?"
Jonquil heard one of the mariachi's voices. She looked up to the short Mexican man in his ranchero garb.
"Hoy es mi cumpleanos."
The man turned around to his instrumental companions and the song began.
"Estas son las mañanitas que cantaba el rey David, a las muchachas bonitas se las cantamos así…"
Jonquil heard the familiar sound of the Impala starting up. She slumped back in her chair and pulled out some cash. The mariachis finished their song and she smiled up at them.
Jonquil put the money down on the table. "Gracias."
Jonquil stood up and walked out of the cantina. She saw her own truck alone in front of the establishment. She looked up into the dark purple sky, nearly starless, and sighed.
"A Happy Birthday indeed."
Jonquil stepped out of her truck. She saw a few cars parked in front of a cheap motel. Among them was the Winchesters' ride. Jonquil sighed and walked up toward the front desk to ask for a room. She pulled open the door and rang the bell on the table.
A young man came forth, roused from sleep.
"Can I help you?" He asked groggily.
"One room please."
The man nodded, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He turned to reach for a key, and turned back empty handed.
"Sorry. No more rooms."
Jonquil's face fell, and her eyes narrowed. She spoke with a restrained voice.
"Were the last people to take a room two guys?"
"Uh…Yeah. I think so." The man looked down at a clipboard. "Yeah. Tommy and Nick Sorvino."
Jonquil scoffed and frowned. "Thanks."
She marched out of the motel and headed to her pickup. She slammed the door and turned up the music. Josie Miles had nothing on Jonquil as she tore down the road to the next nearest motel.
As Jonquil drove, she resisted the urge to turn back and slit the tires off of the Winchester car.
"Stupid dirty rotten scoundrels…"
"Take my Winchester off the shelf and…"
"I'll take those damn Winchesters off the shelf alright…," Jonquil grumbled, speeding down the highway.
Jonquil checked herself into a motel a few miles away from the Winchesters. She gathered her belongings for the next day. She was going to capture Lust and the rest of the Sins on her own.
Perhaps no one understood that the matter was quite serious—her life was on the line. But if doing things alone was the only way to get them done, so be it.
Before she lay her head down on the pillow Jonquil prayed. She knew this could be dangerous, and she had a gift for near death experiences. She prayed she would not die tomorrow.
Jonquil frowned, knowing what she would want next was wrong, but she wanted it anyway. If she did die tomorrow, she hoped it would spite Dean and Sam.
Jonquil needed to learn a lot more, but so did those boys.