People were beginning to arrive at the gallery. Sam and Dean, disguised as staff in brand new suits, mingled among the gallery's clients. They both had EMF detectors hidden in their coats, connected to headphones discretely placed in one ear. Since the gala was where Sarah was supposed to be, they figured that's where the demons would attack. Sam was just hoping they could take care of it without attracting too much attention.

He scanned one group of guests conversing over champagne. The EMF detector remained quiet. He huffed in frustration and moved on. The night wore on and still he found nothing. He met up with Dean behind the buffet. To his relief, Dean had forgone the food in favor of the job.

"I got bumpkis," Dean complained, opening his coat to check that his EMF detector was working. "How about you?"

"Nothing," Sam replied. "Did we do something wrong? Do you think they figured out she isn't here?"

"We covered our asses so well we wouldn't have been able to track us," Dean insisted. "There's no way they could have followed us."

"I'm going to call Mal and make sure everything's okay over there," Sam said. As he turned to head toward the exit, however, the EMF detector squealed in his ear. He ripped out the earbud with a wince and glanced over at Dean, who had done the same, rubbing his offended ear. Sam quickly scanned the people near them, eyes narrow.

"There," Dean said, pointing. The man he indicated was an oily-looking client in an expensive tuxedo, a dark-skinned and quite attractive woman hanging on his arm.

"You sure?" Sam asked sceptically.

"Yeah. My EMF reader was pointed right at him when it went off," Dean replied.

"All right. We should wait until we can get him alone," Sam cautioned. "We don't want anyone calling the police on us."

"Hey, you think they're still looking for us for Mal's kidnapping?" Dean asked idly, still watching their target.

"I don't know," Sam admitted. "I haven't hacked into the FBI in a while. I'm surprised they haven't made the connection yet. They had pretty good sketches of us."

"Yeah, but we're officially dead, remember?" Dean reminded him. "Maybe our files got sealed. Or better yet, flushed."

"Maybe," Sam replied doubtfully. He made a mental note to check as soon as he got the chance.

"There he goes," Dean said, instantly becoming alert. The man had broken off from his conversation partners and was heading off in the direction of the restrooms. Dean and Sam slipped, unnoticed, after him. They paused on either side of the restroom door, exchanged a glance, and then burst in. Their target was at the sink. They grabbed him and slammed him against the wall.

"How many of you are there?" Sam demanded, holding the Knife across the man's throat.

"What? What are you talking about?" the man babbled in terror, his eyes so wide they almost bulged out of his head. "I don't know what you mean. Please, please don't hurt me. I'll give you anything you want. Just take it."

"Uh, Sam?" Dean said. "I don't think this is our guy."

Sam grimaced. "Yeah, me either." He stepped back, taking the knife from the man's throat. He slumped forward with a sigh of relief, rubbing his neck. Sam exchanged a look with Dean. "So..." he said questioningly.

Realization dawned on Dean's face. "The chick," he said.

"Hello, boys."

They turned around slowly. The dark-skinned woman stood just inside the doorway, hands on her hips. She grinned hungrily, white teeth flashing between red lips. "Mmmm...this is just so perfect. I get you all to myself." She flicked her tongue out of her mouth. "And then I still get to find the little bitch and waste her. Looks like my day just got that much...tastier."

Sam glanced back at the man, who was staring at his former companion in confusion and horror. Sam sighed and smashed his elbow into the man's temple, knocking him out cold. Dean took a step forward, squaring off with the demon.

"Bring it, bitch," he challenged.

The demon laughed and flung out a hand. Dean dove out of the way but still caught the edge of the blast, flinging him off his feet. He hit the tile floor and rolled back to his feet. Sam used the demon's moment of distraction to sidle up beside her and strike out with the knife. She whirled around and caught his arm as it descended. Her irises faded to white, leaving only her shrunken pupils behind.

"Goodbye, Sam Winchester," she hissed, and held up her other hand.

White light and heat washed over Sam without harming him. When his vision cleared, the demon assassin was staring at him in shock. "Yeah," Sam said with a smirk. "That doesn't work on me." He punched her in the face, driving her back a step and forcing her to release her hold on his arm. Dean hit her from the side in a perfect linebacker's tackle, taking her to the floor.

"Sam!" Dean yelled. "Anytime now!"

Sam lunged forward, dropping to his knees and sliding into place next to Dean. The demon shrieked and clawed at Dean, but he held her down just long enough for Sam to plunge the Knife into her heart. He yanked the blade out before she even stopped glowing and sat back, panting slightly. Black spots were still dancing across his vision from the demon-blast.

"You all right?" Dean demanded.

"Yeah, fine," Sam assured him. "Guess I'm still immune to that."

"Hell of a way to figure that out," Dean groused, getting to his feet and offering Sam a hand up. "Do me a favor and don't do that again."

"Like I can control when I get attacked by demons," Sam retorted. He grabbed a towel from the counter and scrubbed the Knife clean. "You think she was the only one?" he asked.

"We should do another sweep just to make sure," Dean decided.

"Probably a good idea," Sam agreed.

They locked the bathroom as they left to ensure no one would stumble upon the demon's corpse or the unfortunate bystander's unconscious body. The EMF detectors remained silent as they worked their way around the gallery one last time. They met again by the back door.

"You want to sweep the outside?" Sam asked, adjusting the settings on his detector.

"Can't hurt," Dean said with a shrug.

Sam pushed the door open and felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He dug it out to see the number he'd given Sarah scrolling across the screen. He ducked outside and held his phone up to his ear. "Hello?"

"Hey, Sam? We—uh, we've got a slight problem."

XxxXxxX

For a long moment, no one moved, not the three females nor the man standing across the motel room from them. "If he's not a demon, what is he?" Sarah hissed at Mallory.

"An angel," she replied grimly.

Now Sarah was completely lost. "And that's a bad thing?"

"In this case, yes," Mallory said.

The angel continued to smirk. A sword slid down his sleeve into his hand, one exactly like the one Mallory was holding. "Aren't you going to run, little girls?" he taunted.

"Good idea," Mallory said. "RUN!"

Sophia spun around and flung both hands toward the door. It swung open with a crash. The little girl grabbed Sarah's hand and bolted, dragging the taller woman along with surprising strength. Sarah glanced over her shoulder. Mallory was right behind them as they hit the parking lot and raced across it. The angel appeared in the open doorway of their motel room and laughed.

Sophia didn't slow down, pulling Sarah along with her. Sarah briefly wondered the wisdom of fleeing from an angel on foot, but Mallory and Sophia seemed to think it was a viable plan. They sprinted across the street, behind the tiny diner, and into the small Maine town they'd been hiding in. Sarah's lungs were beginning to burn but Sophia didn't release her hold on her.

They passed through a narrow alleyway between two buildings and Sophia abruptly came to a halt. Mallory skidded to a stop beside them and Sarah noticed, as she bent forward to catch her breath, that the other young woman was barely breathing heavy.

"Sophia, can you keep him off our backs for, like, one minute?" Mallory demanded.

Sophia nodded and made a sharp gesture that seemed to demand haste. Mallory nodded and rolled up her sleeve. There was already a white bandage circling her left forearm, and the girl slashed her silver sword down on her skin underneath it. Blood welled up from the wound and trickled over her arm, dripping onto the ground.

"What are you doing?" Sarah demanded between gasps. She could see the wound was deep, deep enough to need stitches. Mallory ignored her and twisted her hand, making the sword vanish. She dabbed her first two fingers against the wound in her arm and began drawing on the concrete wall beside them, wide sweeps and an unfamiliar symbol. The whole time, her arm continued to bleed at an alarming rate.

"Mallory, you're going to need medical attention," Sarah tried to protest, but no one was listening to her. Mallory continued to draw in her own blood, her face tight with pain. Finally she stopped and stepped back to examine her work.

"Did I get it right?" she asked Sophia. The little girl raked her eyes over the symbol and nodded once.

"Oh good," Mallory said weakly, just as her knees buckled.

"Dammit," Sarah spat, lunging forward to catch her before she hit the ground. Mallory felt entirely too light in Sarah's arms, and underneath her clothing she was all bones. "I told you," she said irately. Mallory had her right hand clamped over the wound.

"It'll close in a few minutes," Mallory said between clenched teeth. "I've just done too many blood wards today, that's all."

"Oh, that's all," Sarah said sarcastically.

Sophia, who'd gone to one knee to check on Mallory, shot to her feet, staring at something behind Sarah. She twisted to see what it was without letting go of Mallory. The male angel was back, standing at the mouth of the alley.

"This is as far as you got?" he asked, striding forward. "It is almost as if you want to be found."

"You're from Raphael, aren't you?" Mallory growled, glaring at the angel.

"I am," he replied, coming to a halt not ten feet from them. "And I know all about you. The Blind Guardian. And now...the Abomination. Aberration. Freak." He smiled and straightened his tie with his free hand. "Oh yes, and the Archive. You should have thought twice before choosing to support the traitor, my dear," he said to Sophia. His eyes finally landed on Sarah. "And you...I don't care who you are. You can run along now, if you like."

Sarah didn't move from where she crouched on the asphalt, supporting Mallory. "Yeah, well you can go to hell," she spat at him.

He sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "Your choice." He stepped forward again. Sophia took a step backwards as if recoiling in fear, and then reached up to slap her hand squarely in the middle of the symbol Mallory had drawn.

The man cried out, raising his arms as he was consumed by a flash of light. In Sarah's arms, Mallory convulsed once and then went limp. When the light faded, Sarah looked around. The male angel was gone, leaving nothing behind. The bloody symbol was glowing faintly around the edges and Sophia stepped away from the wall. Sarah looked down.

Mallory was unconscious, her grip on her injury slack. There was blood smeared all over her hands and arm, but when Sarah checked, the wound itself had indeed clotted, the bleeding stopped. "What the hell?" Sarah whispered. She'd never heard of anyone healing this quickly before. She shook Mallory gently. "Mallory? Mallory? Hey, can you hear me?"

Sophia knelt beside them again, reaching over to place two fingers against Mallory's forehead. Her brow wrinkled with concentration. Then her expression darkened. She rocked back and closed her eyes for a long moment, lips moving soundlessly.

"Is she going to be okay?" Sarah asked urgently. Sophia opened her eyes, looked down at Mallory and then up at Sarah, and shrugged helplessly. "Oh, great," Sarah muttered.

There was a clatter from the other end of the alley. Sarah's head shot up. A man and a woman were walking towards them, their eyes solid black. "Let me guess," Sarah said resignedly. "Those are demons."

Sophia sighed loudly and nodded.

"Well, screw this," Sarah snarled. She got to her feet awkwardly, lifting Mallory in her arms. "Can we make it back to the motel?" she demanded of Sophia.

The little girl shook her head, but then her eyes lit up. She bounded back to the wall and ripped a steel pipe free with inhuman strength. Water sprayed into the air. Sophia twisted the pipe to face the demons and stuck her hand in the flow. Sarah wasn't sure, but for a moment it looked as if the water gleamed in the darkness. Then Sophia backed away. The demons had paused, unsure of the angel's intentions, but seeing that she made no aggressive moves, advanced again, baring their teeth in eagerness. The first one got close enough for drops of water to fall on her skin. She recoiled with a hiss of pain, steam rising from her exposed skin.

Sophia began to walk backwards, beckoning Sarah to follow her. They retreated from the alley, never taking their eyes from the demons. Once they left the alley, Sophia turned and bolted down the street back towards the motel room. Sarah tried to follow but Mallory was a dead weight in her arms. Sophia had to slow down to match Sarah's pace, sending glances over her shoulder.

Sophia suddenly pushed Sarah hard to the side, sending her toppling to the pavement. She did her best to shield Mallory from further injury but only managed to scrape both knees and her arm. A gunshot cracked out in the night air, and the wall near where Sarah had been running exploded into dust. Sophia helped Sarah back to her feet and pick Mallory back up, guiding her urgently off the street. They were in front of a tiny grocery store that had closed shop for the night. Sophia ran up to the door, grabbed the handle, and pulled. There was a click, and then the door swung open.

Sarah hurried in at the little angel's silent instructions. Sophia closed and relocked the door before disappearing between the shelves. She returned a moment later with an armful of salt canisters. Sarah watched as the angel poured lines of salt in front of the door. Then Sophia shoved two canisters into Sarah's hands and gestured sharply. Sarah went in search of any conceivable entrance to pour salt in front of. When she returned, Sophia had dragged Mallory back from the door and was cradling the young woman's head in her lap. She'd removed the brightly-colored cap to reveal that Mallory's head was shaved down to almost nothing. Sophia rested her fingertips against Mallory's temples, her eyes closed in concentration.

Sarah crouched next to the other two. "What do you want me to do now?" It seemed odd to her, asking that of a child, but Sophia seemed to know what she was doing, and although Sarah wasn't sure she was ready to accept that the little girl was an angel, it was enough. Sophia lifted one hand and pointed at Sarah's pocket without opening her eyes. Sarah put her hand on the indicated pocket and felt the cell phone Sam had given her. "Right," she said, feeling stupid. She found Sam's number in the contacts list and waited for him to pick up.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Sam? We—uh, we've got a slight problem," Sarah said.

"What's going on?" he demanded.

"Well, first it was the angel who tried to kill us but Sophia and Mallory did something that sent him away only now Mallory's unconscious and we have two demons after us. We can't get back to the hotel room so we're in a corner store down the street and I think you should probably get back here as soon as she can." Sarah gave the whole report without taking a breath.

There was a moment of silence, and then Sam asked, "Can you stay where you are? Ask Sophia if you can stay where you are."

Sarah lifted the phone from her ear. "Can we stay put?" she asked Sophia.

The little girl opened her eyes and looked over at Sarah. She nodded once, indicated a small amount, and then shook her head. Sarah returned the cell phone to her ear.

"I think she's trying to say that we can, but not for long. Does she ever talk?"

"Not to my knowledge," Sam replied shortly. "We're on our way. Call me if anything changes."

"Okay," Sarah said, and hung up. "Sam and Dean are on their way," she told Sophia.

The girl nodded and looked down at Mallory. There was a crash against the front door, the glass cracking, and a snarling sound that sent shivers down Sarah's spine. Mallory woke up with a flinch.

"Hellhounds!" she gasped, flailing free of Sophia's lap.

"Hellhounds?" Sarah echoed in disbelief. "How can this get any worse?"

Mallory shot her a look. "Don't say that." She looked around and the blood drained from her face. Sarah leaned forward.

"Mallory? What is it?"

"The last time I was in a store with hellhounds outside, I was bleeding to death," the other woman replied in a whisper.

The front door cracked further, the snarling turning into savage barks. Mallory flinched hard, a whimper escaping from her thinned lips. The barking outside continued. Sophia huddled against Mallory, her dark brown eyes wide. Sarah saw the abject fear on their faces and felt the cold fingers of terror begin to spread through her own body.

The barking abruptly turned to a pained yelp and then there was silence. The three females, huddled against the desk, hardly dared to breathe. The door unlocked with a click and swung open. Footsteps crunched on salt and broken glass. Mallory tried to rise to her feet and failed, but she still made the silver sword appear in her hand. Sarah wondered how she was doing that, and decided it wasn't important at the moment.

A man stepped around the shelves into view. He wasn't the male demon that had been chasing him, nor was he the angel who had driven them from the motel. He was tall and dressed all in black, from his jeans to his knee-length coat. His hair was blonde and disheveled. Piercing blue eyes shone from a gaunt face. He came to a stop fifteen or so feet away from the three females and crouched to get on eye level with them.

"Don't be afraid," he said in a soft, English accent. "I won't hurt you. My name is Stephen. Castiel sent me."

Mallory turned to look questioningly at Sophia, but the little girl only shrugged. Mallory turned back to the man. "How do we know that?" she demanded.

"You should be able to tell," Stephen told her. "You carry the Grace of the angel of truth."

Sarah twisted to stare at Mallory, but she looked as confused as Sarah felt. "I can't—I can't do that," Mallory protested. "I don't know how."

"Try," Stephen encouraged. "I'll wait."

Mallory frowned, brow furrowing. It may have just been a trick of the light, but it seemed as if her eyes darkened from pale silver to storm gray, just for an instant before returning to normal. "You're telling the truth," she said, sounding shocked.

Stephen smiled faintly. "I'm sorry that I could not come sooner, but I was pulled from the battlefield to aid you."

"Yeah, no problem," Mallory panted.

"We can trust him?" Sarah whispered.

"Pretty sure," Mallory whispered back.

Stephen frowned, concern in his eyes. "You are weak and injured. Please, may I assist you?"

"Uh...okay," Mallory said slowly.

Stephen moved towards them, never getting to his feet, perhaps to keep from looming over the girls and looking threatening. He took Mallory's left arm in one hand and hovered the other over her chest. "The banishing spell affected the Grace you carry," he told Mallory.

"That will be good to know in the future," Mallory replied. She sat up, the blood and color restored to her face. Sarah looked down. The blood on Mallory's hands and arm had completely vanished, along with any sign of the wound. Sarah took a slow, deep breath. A beer was starting to get really attractive.

"Let me escort you back to your motel room," Stephen requested, still holding onto Mallory's hand. She nodded and he rose, helping Mallory to her feet as he did. Mallory grabbed her cap as she left the floor, shoving it back onto her head. Sarah stood as well, pulling Sophia up. For a moment there was an awkward shuffle as Stephen tried to usher them forward but Mallory stood her ground, silently insisting that he go first. He finally conceded to her wishes and led them out of the corner store. On the sidewalk there were two puddles of bluish-black liquid, but no sign of the hellhounds.

Mallory was staring at the puddles with revulsion on her face. "Did you get the demons, too?" she asked, delicately stepping around the liquid.

"No, but I drove them off," Stephen replied. "I doubt they will be back."

The four of them made their way warily down the street, Mallory holding her sword at the ready the whole time. After a moment, Sophia moved up to walk next to Stephen. She reached up to tug at his sleeve, and he turned solicitously to give her his full attention. She made a gesture with both hands, an inquiring expression on her face.

"When I left him, Castiel was well and uninjured," he assured her.

"Who is Castiel?" Sarah whispered to Mallory. That was the second time she'd heard the name mentioned.

"A friend of ours," Mallory replied without taking her attention from the street around them. "One of the last two archangels."

Sarah missed a step and almost stumbled. "You're friends with an archangel?" she asked in disbelief.

"We knew him before he got promoted," Mallory said casually. "But yeah, he's like family."

Sarah shook her head. "Wait," she frowned. "Aren't there more than two archangels?"

"Gabriel's dead, Lucifer and Michael are trapped in hell, and Raphael is leading a war against Castiel," Mallory replied entirely too glibly.

Sarah nodded numbly. Yup, a beer would be great right about now.

A gunshot broke the silence, followed quickly by two more. Stephen stumbled forward a step, three holes appearing in the back of his coat. He whirled around, a sword shining in his hand. "Go!" he ordered the women. "I'll hold them off!"

Mallory, Sophia, and Sarah took off without looking back. The motel was just ahead; they could see the sign glowing against the dark sky. Just as they reached the parking lot, the male demon stepped out in front of them.

"Shit," Mallory spat, skidding to a halt. She immediately placed herself between the demon and her other two companions. "If you get a chance, make a break for it," she ordered in a low voice.

"What about you?" Sarah demanded, pulling Sophia behind her. Angel or not, she was a little girl, and Sarah's protective instincts more or less took over.

"I'll be okay," Mallory replied tightly.

"Such bravado," the demon mocked. "I'm shaking in my boots."

"Cut the crap, will you?" Mallory snapped back. "I've had enough bullshit tonight, thank you." She dropped into a ready position, switching her sword into a reverse grip.

The demon laughed. "I'm not here to fight you, Mallory," he said. "I'm not even here to kill Miss Blake."

Sarah saw Mallory hesitate, then an expression came over her face as if she was terrified of what the demon would say next. "Then why are you here?" Mallory asked hoarsely.

"For you, of course," the demon replied. "Abaddon is still willing to welcome you back, Mallory. He is a forgiving master. No harm will come to you or your child."

A snarl twisted Mallory's face. "Tell Abaddon to go fuck himself," she spat. "He's never coming near my baby."

"Then I'm very sorry to have to do this," the demon said, and he sounded genuinely apologetic. He threw back his head and a column of black smoke poured out of his mouth. It twisted through the air for a moment before descending toward the three girls. Mallory cried out a warning but it was too late. The smoke fell upon her and forced its way down her throat.

The silver sword clattered to the ground.

Sarah stared in horror, unsure of what was happening but knowing something was wrong. Sophia cringed against her side, little arms wrapping around her waist. She hugged the little angel tightly, still determined to protect her.

Mallory continued to stand there, back to them and shoulders slightly slumped. Then she slowly turned around. Her irises had been swallowed by darkness, eyes completely black. She stared, unblinking, at Sarah and Sophia, her head cocking to the side. A satisfied smile stretched her lips.

"See?" she said. "That wasn't so hard." She took a step forward and froze, a brief flicker of confusion passing over her face. "What?" she asked, cutting herself off. "No," she hissed angrily. "No..." She tried to take another step forward but an unseen force held her in place. She dropped to her knees, clawing at her chest. Then her back arched, head tilting back. A scream ripped free of her throat, and as she screamed, the smoke rushed from her mouth, disappearing into the night sky. Mallory collapsed to her hands and knees, panting and sobbing.

Sophia let go of Sarah and the two of them bolted forward. Sarah lifted Mallory from the ground, supporting her as she sat her back on her heels. Tears poured down the other woman's cheeks, her whole body shaking. She couldn't seem to catch her breath, taking short, shallow gasps of air.

"We need to get her inside," Sarah told Sophia. The little girl nodded and helped Sarah get Mallory to her feet and across the parking lot to the motel room, the door still standing open. As soon as they were inside, Sophia pulled the door shut and dug a bag of salt out of one of the bags, laying a line across the threshold. Sarah laid Mallory down on the nearest bed, sitting next to her.

"Are you okay?" she asked, laying her hand comfortingly on the younger girl's shoulder. Mallory shook her head, still crying. "What happened?" Sarah asked.

"Demon and angel can't exist," Mallory said between sobs, "In the same place. My angel Grace...forced it out."

Sarah wasn't sure exactly what Mallory was talking about, but it really didn't matter. The girl was in distress. "Is there anything I can do?" she offered.

Mallory suddenly reached out and latched onto Sarah's hand. "Stay with me," she begged. Sarah closed her other hand around Mallory's thin, cold one.

"I will," she promised.

XxxXxxX

When Mallory woke up, Sarah was gone. She sat up in a panic only to see Sam sitting in a chair across the room, watching her. "When did you get back?" Mal asked.

"About an hour ago," Sam replied tersely.

Mal looked down, picking at her shirt. "Where is everyone?"

"Dean took Sarah home and Stephen and Sophia left."

"So Sarah told you everything?" Mal still wouldn't meet Sam's gaze.

"Yeah, she did," he said, his voice cool. Mal winced and didn't reply. Sam eventually sighed. "Mal, this is exactly why I didn't want you to come," he said. "You could have been killed."

"If I hadn't been here, Sarah would be dead," Mal mumbled petulantly.

"No, because the only reason the angel and those demons were here was because of you," Sam snapped.

Mal's head came up. "So what are you going to do, Sam?" she demanded. "Lock me up for the next nine months? Oh, I know, you can use the panic room. Then I'll be completely safe."

"I'm not going to lock you up," Sam huffed impatiently. "I just want you safe."

"What is safe, Sam?" Mal asked. "Is safe really possible with our kind of lifestyle? The things you do every day, your job...nothing about you is safe."

"Then maybe you should leave," Sam replied quietly.

Mal stared at him, her mouth open. For a moment she couldn't find words. Then a tiny, "What?" slipped past her lips.

"You're right," Sam said, shaking his head. "As long as you stay with me, you'll be in danger. You'll be on the front lines. Maybe it'd be best if you were to go underground. Someplace Abaddon will never find you. As far from here as you can get."

Mal slowly got up from the bed, her legs still feeling weak. All the blood had drained from her face and her teeth were clenched so tightly that the muscles stood out along her jaw. She took several stilted steps across the room until she was standing in front of Sam. He looked up at her, a faint question in his eyes.

She slapped him across the face as hard as she could.

He recoiled away from her in shock, reaching up to touch the red mark on his cheek. He opened his mouth to demand an explanation but she beat him to it.

"I went to hell for you," she growled dangerously. "I've been beaten, tortured, burned, and eviscerated for you. I gave up everything, my whole life, to be with you. Don't you ever ask me to leave you." Tears suddenly flooded her eyes and she pressed her hand to her mouth to keep them in, fighting for control.

Sam stared at her, his expression slightly stunned. "Mal," he said softly, his hands fluttering as if he wasn't sure what to do with them. She reached forward to brush her fingertips along his bruised cheek.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, the tears overflowing. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have—"

He latched onto both of her wrists and pulled her down, claiming her mouth with his. She melted against him, wrapping her arms around his neck. She could taste salt on his lips but was almost instantly distracted when he swirled his tongue into her mouth. His hand crept under her shirt, and Mallory shivered at the touch of his calloused fingers along the skin of her back.

It would take Dean a few hours to get Sarah home and come back, right?