Hiding in the shadows of the trees just outside of Bobby Singer's salvage yard, the black eyed woman carefully watched the scene unfolding before her. Stepping forward in anticipation, she wanted to crow aloud with success. A glance at the ground in front of her, had her scrambling backwards with a snarl.
Damn Singer and his pathetic charms, unable to completely prevent demons from crossing onto his property he'd managed nonetheless to conjure a warning system. If she so much as put a hair over the line, he'd know it. Not matter, thought the tall, blonde, athletic looking woman, the aged hunter was of no real concern.
No, her only concern was the brothers. After her failed attempt at destroying the First, she'd quickly left behind not only the town of Green Haven but the body of the child she'd possessed. The woman ran her hands down her toned body; she'd picked this one up a couple towns over and was pleased with it. She figured she might stay awhile; Susan had a body that rocked and a psyche that had allowed the demon to take over with no resistance.
Susan returned her attention back to the scene in front of her. She watched as the car pulled out in a cloud of dirt and noise, grinning broadly she turned and began jogging towards the highway. Not surprisingly, she thought to herself, the brothers had taken the bait. Leaving the only one that could possibly protect them behind they'd predictably set out to rescue yet another worthless life.
Well, they'd learn someday, preferably while she was ripping their hearts out of their bodies. As she distanced herself from the yard, she began laughing to herself. Yes, this was it, her big shot. She'd show Daddy that she was the chosen.
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Catherine entered her room, glancing at the clock. Good, she thought, six o'clock. She was right on schedule, she had enough time to shower and change before Bobby would be ready. A strange feeling had overtaken Cat; if she was anyone else she would have called it nerves. Really though, she thought it was probably anticipation more than anything. She'd been spent the last 7 years of her life hunting, it was all she'd known for a long time. It had taken close to two months for her to recover and she'd been inactive for the majority of it.. The urge to move through the night hunting something dangerous had become like an itch she couldn't scratch.
Catherine grinned to herself, soon enough, she thought as she grabbed out a pair of cargo pants, a black tee and her new boots. Heading for the shower, Catherine found herself humming.
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"Dean you're humming again," Sam said with laughter in his voice.
Dean glanced at Sam and was unable to stop grinning. "Can't help it dude, she is in rare form tonight. I'll tell you that girl's got great taste in music," Dean said referring to Catherine's power.
The Winchester brothers had dubbed Cat's power the 'lojack', referring to the tracking device found in cars. Catherine was able to track people and in some cases could actually draw someone to her. Since Dean had first met her they'd been connected, and without fail she'd been able to draw him toward her. She could block the power if she needed to, but most of the time she chose to stay connected.
The connection she chose to use was music, and to Dean it had become like an internal soundtrack for him. He'd come to know her moods and could often tell what she was doing, or thinking simply by the song that was running through his head at any given moment.
Dean grimaced for a moment, until she'd been injured that was. After that it had been horrible. For the longest time, it had been nothing more than static in his head that made his eyes ache. The worst, though, had been the moment she'd died, to Dean the sudden silence had been unbearable. As Cat had recovered, her gift had been random and unreliable at best. Dean out of necessity, had learned quickly how to push the sound away. Now though, Cat's powers were back and once again under control. "She's in the shower right now, so they'll be leaving in about a half-hour."
Sam glanced at Dean, he was hesitant to ask, but curiosity finally got the better of him. "How do you know she's in the shower?"
Dean grinned once again, "Dude, she's humming Bad Company's 'Feel Like Makin Love '. She always uses that one in the shower. She's fond of torturing me, you know."
"Ahhh, God Dean, don't tell me stuff like that." Sam reached out and switched on the radio, he quickly pumped up the volume to try and drown out Dean's laughter.
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"Let's haul ass, Cat. The nights a wastin'," Bobby shouted as he finished packing the last of his weapons in an old duffle. He strode out of the house and headed for Catherine's waiting Wagoneer. Throwing his bag in the back of the vehicle with the rest of their gear, he quickly climbed into the passenger side. He was aching to get moving, although he'd agreed to this plan that didn't mean he liked it. He could understand Dean's reasoning, but it sat wrong with Bobby to use the Winchester's as bait.
Catherine pulled the door to Bobby's house shut behind her and moved gracefully down the steps. Eager to be on the road, she hopped into the driver's side and pulled swiftly down the drive. As she did, she felt a moment's unease at the thought that something might be watching.
Pushing away the fear, she concentrated on the plan. Dean was right, if they were being watched there was very little chance that whatever was doing the watching would've hung around after the display they'd put on this morning. And if something was watching now there was no chance of her and Bobby sneaking out of the salvage yard, undetected.
Pushing her foot down on the gas, Catherine maneuvered the Wagoneer down the road. Picking up Sam and Dean easily, Cat headed north, her attention divided by the road in front of her and the small bundle of awareness in her head that was Dean. Grinning she began humming.
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Mark Peters eased his old Honda into a parking space and sat for a moment, hands resting lightly on the steering wheel. Here he was, he thought, a young guy that should have his whole future ahead of him. Instead, he was sitting in a parking lot contemplating his death and the deaths of hundreds of others. Mark leaned forward and rested his forehead against the wheel. He didn't want to die, and he surely had no reason to want to hurt anyone, but Mark was afraid that it was quickly becoming inevitable.
Of course injuring people was nothing new to Mark; he'd been dealing with it for almost three years now. It had been that long since he'd first set fire to his family home, unintentionally burning it to the ground. Luckily that time the burns had been minor and although the insurance money couldn't replace his family's memories, it had been able to replace the house.
The second time though, that was when he'd lost his temper. Yeah, thought Mark with a self deprecating laugh, he was no one you wanted to piss off. He'd been in a downward spiral and had managed to get plastered at a local bar. Already out of control he'd lost it completely when he'd seen his former girlfriend out and about with a new guy.
People had been injured that time, lots of people. The bar had become engulfed in flames in an instant. People would have died that time if it hadn't been for Mark; he'd gone back into the bar over and over again, pulling people to safety. The irony was that local paper had dubbed him a hero and the mayor had given him a shiny plaque.
Now, here he was staking out the local mall to try and determine if the dreams he'd been having would come true or if they were just a figments of his battered mind. The dreams had started about a month ago, vivid in detail. Mark awoke from every single one drenched in fear. Dreams that came true, impossible right, yeah, thought Mark, impossible, like being able to create fire out of nothing was impossible. Mark stared at his hands, snapping his fingers he studied the tiny flame for a moment before allowing it to wink out. Impossible.
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"Alright, Sammy what do we have?" Dean asked setting the gas pump to automatic fill. Stretching his arms above his head, Dean worked his shoulders, trying to ease the kinks that had settled into his back.
Sam handed Dean a cup of coffee and a donut and leaned against the hood of the car. Taking a sip of his own, he said "Mark Peters, age 25 and living in Jamestown, New York. The mall in question is the Chautauqua Mall. I'm telling you Dean this is such a set up, it was like trying to find porn on the internet. Every button I hit, led me to this kid."
Dean nodded. "Porn on the internet, do you do a lot of searches for porn, Sammy?" Dean shook his head in mock disapproval. Returning the gas pump to the island he quickly joined Sammy in the car, as the Impala roared to life Dean asked, "So, we're definintely being set up huh. You gotta wonder what this son of a bitch is doing to that poor kid, in order to make him burn down the local mall."
"So far, Mark's set fire to both his house and a local bar. Both times though I'm fairly certain it must have been an accident. The first fire was his house, it coincided with the time he would have begun gaining his power. You can bet, he never intended to set the place on fire. The second wasn't too long after, from all accounts he was the only reason that no one was killed. He got pretty beat up, rescuing people from the building," Sam said reading from the notes he'd taken.
Dean nodded. "Any clues to a time frame. I can't imagine whatever is setting us up, would jump the gun, but we still have at least ten hours before we hit Jamestown."
Sam shook his head. "I've got no clue. I can only hope we can stop the kid, along with everything else. I mean we're taking a real risk here."
"Don't see that we have much choice, Sammy, we gotta start taking the fight to this son of a bitch or we'll never be free. At least this way we walk in prepared, if we save the kid all the better." Dean hated the chances they were taking, hated knowing that they may have to sacrifice both Mark and the people of Johnstown. It went against every fiber in his body to allow the innocent to suffer but, they could only do so much. There best bet at stopping the fire was to stop the demon. "It's gonna be okay, Sam," Dean said hoping he sounded more convincing to Sam than he felt.
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Eleven hours later saw Sam and Dean checking into a Motel in downtown Johnstown, just minutes from the Chautauqua Mall. Sam watched as Dean shrugged off his coat and collapsed in a heap on the bright orange comforter that covered the twin bed. Dean had driven the entire way, leaving Sammy free to research. Sam moved towards Dean and quickly pulled the boots from his older brother's feet. He walked over to the shelf that held extra linens and towels and pulled down a spare blanket, gently covering Dean.
Sam quickly settled into the room, normally he and Dean were content to simply use salt for protection. This time though, Bobby had armed him with several charms and even a couple of protection spells. Sam had no intention of being caught unawares by whatever it was that had lured the Winchester brothers here to Johnstown.
Once the room was secure, Sam got cleaned up and crawled into bed. As tired as he was he found he was unable to settle his thoughts enough to sleep. Finally, out of desperation he said in barely a whisper, "Dean."
Sam watched Dean roll over to face him across the distance between their beds. "What's the matter, Sam?"
Sam shrugged and stupidly couldn't find the words, now that he'd woken Dean. "I just..." Sam found that he was unable to finish.
Dean took a moment and studied Sam in the dim light that shone from between the curtains. Seeing the unease on his brother's face, Dean strove to make his voice calm and sure. "They're on the way, Sam. She's already closer than I would have imagined possible. It's going to work, we're going to save the kid and we're going to get that son of a bitch demon. Get some sleep, God knows when we'll get another chance." Dean watched Sam's face for another moment, hoping that he'd been able to reassure Sam somewhat.
Sam nodded in the darkness and said, "She's close that does help. Makes it seem as if we're not so alone this time. Night."
"Night Sammy," Dean said wearily closing his eyes. Dean had driven seventeen hours today, straight through with only a couple of coffee breaks and one stop for dinner. He was beyond exhausted, and yet he lay there eyes closed, listening intently for the familiar snore of his baby brother before he allowed himself to finally drift off.