SPN

(Atlanta, Georgia … Monday, November 2, 2005)

It did not take long for drunken revelers to notice the women in their company—including the women in the bridal party. Of course, Caroline and Elizabeth were off limits, but Daisy and Jessica were fair game. And since Jacob had finally given Sam a crystal to silence the psychic noise, he didn't perceive the guests' lustful desires until a small pack ventured up the stage steps to the head table where the unsuspecting bridesmaids were picking at their food.

"Care for a dance?" one asked lewdly, and before either could respond, they grabbed them each by the wrists and hauled them from their seats—their stunned objections only encouraged the bastards.

Sam's heart jumped to his throat. "No, no, no!" It happened so quickly that by the time he raced from the groom's side of the table over to the bride's side, both girls had vanished onto the busy dance floor. "JESS!" He started after her, but Jacob caught up to him and snatched his arm. Sam tried shaking him off, but Jacob only tightened his grip, and they stared at each other tensely.

"Stay here," Jacob growled. "You're in no position to help her, and if you try, you'll only provoke them. Let me handle it." Sam wanted to argue—it was Jessica, for God's sake!—but Jacob would not be crossed. He shoved his captive onto a chair—sideways—and handcuffed his wrist to one of the back posts. "Sit tight. Stay calm."

"Jacob, wait—! Please—!"

Muttering something about overdue entertainment, Jacob ignored Sam's protests and made his way down the steps to the dance floor. Crap! Perhaps recklessly, Sam sprang to his feet, more than willing to carry the chair with him if it meant protecting Jessica, but the damn thing didn't move, and the handcuffs effectively curtailed his advance. Falling back on his seat, he glanced at his manacles in frustration. "Come on!" No amount of yanking did any good; he was stuck. How was that possible? The chair wasn't even that heavy!

"Give it up, squirt," Victor said, towering over him with an eager leer. Sam froze, gazing up at him in dread. Oh, hell no! But sure enough, the bastard leaned over him and wrenched his body around so his arm was pinned behind his back. Straddling his legs, Victor sat on top of him and ran his fingers through his hair. Sam tried swinging his free arm, but Victor caught his wrist and easily held it down.

"We made a few magical upgrades to our handcuffs," he explained, intimately breathing in Sam's scent. "Not only are they pick-resistant, they also lend their security to their anchors. In this case, your chair—which is why you can't lift it. And I dare you to pull another stunt like breaking your thumb. Spoiler alert. It won't help you." He proceeded to lick Sam's cheek, much to the amusement of several attentive guests. The ballroom was quickly spiraling into a den of fornication, and no one seemed to care that Victor was already preparing to cheat on his wife. Sam groaned as their lips met.

JACOB! JA—!

No! He hastily suppressed his psychic S.O.S. If Jacob came to his rescue, who would save Jessica? She was the one in danger—Victor might have his way with Sam, but he wasn't about to kill him. Elizabeth, on the other hand, wouldn't hesitate to stab her victim straight through the chest. Elizabeth?

Twisting away from Victor, Sam desperately scanned his surroundings for the wretched young woman, but found no sign of her. William was also missing, while Caroline sat clutching Arthur's hand with a vacant expression on her face. What the hell? "Victor, wait!" he gasped. "What's wrong with mother? Where's Elizabeth?"

Pulling back, Victor glanced around the stage and snickered in delight. "Well, since you asked so nicely, I'm gonna let you in on a little secret." He resumed brushing Sam's hair, but with added aggression. Sam winced at the unwelcome contact. "Here's the thing. Elizabeth was never here. She's been sleeping in her bedroom this whole time. After all, she can't be trusted to play her role. If she walked down that aisle, this wedding would have been a disaster."

Sam caught his breath in dawning realization. "You don't mean…?"

Victor kissed his forehead. "That's right. Caroline disguised herself as Elizabeth to prevent a scandal while Paige Fontaine disguised herself as Caroline to cover it up. And now, mommy dearest and your precious brother are both out to get your girlfriend, which means I have you all to myself. Finally!"

As Sam processed the implications of this deception, Victor bore down on him with renewed urgency, and this time, nothing in the world could stop him.

SPN

Finding herself in a swarm of drunk and wild perverts, Jessica fought to keep her nausea at bay—which was all the more challenging thanks to the stench of sweat, alcohol, and roses. She wasn't prone to claustrophobia, but as three or four strange men took turns groping her, spinning her, and tossing her between them, she definitely felt the walls closing in. She was trapped, dizzy, and off-balance. Damn shoes.

Desperate and increasingly aware of other female guests who were already on the ground, Jessica mustered her remaining strength and called to mind everything Jo Harvelle taught her about self-defense. She was not going to let these bastards rape her! She had to get away.

Resolved, she jabbed someone's throat, slammed her heel on someone's foot, punched, pushed, scratched, and even bit one guy's hand. Instinct took over, and she lashed out with everything she had, catching them all off guard. Fortunately, they weren't as tough as the Stynes, and given their inebriation, she managed to slip through their fingers with surprising ease. Then, spotting the ballroom door, she hurtled through the crowd toward freedom.

"Jessica!? Where'd you go, darling!?"

The sound of Jacob's voice prompted her to speed up—she was too scared and flustered to consider the consequences of her flight. In complete survival mode, her only concern was escaping—all other thoughts of Sam, Daisy, hostages, and premonitions fled her mind. So when she suddenly crashed into an imposing African-American, she shrieked, attacking him frantically.

"Jessica, stop!" He countered with firm but gentle expertise, twisting her around and sliding his arms across her waist. "I'm not going to hurt you! I'm a friend of Ellen's!"

Ellen? She faltered, caught between hope and disbelief. Was it true? Was it even possible? She might have recognized the man's voice, but definitely not his face. Still, she didn't sense any cruelty in him—only protection—and that settled her nerves. When he led her toward the exit, sheltering her in his muscular embrace, she surrendered to his guidance.

They passed out into the corridor with no difficulties. The Stynes' guests were too self-absorbed to question their withdrawal, and the Stynes themselves were a good distance behind them. The hunter—who else would Ellen send but a hunter?—whispered encouragement as they made their way toward the grand foyer.

"I know you've been through an ordeal, but it's almost over, and we're going to get you out of here. My partner, Bela, is helping two other hostages escape. I'll take you to her, but then I need to go back for Sam. I wish I could personally escort you to safety, but you'll be fine with Bela. You're a strong, capable young woman. You've done this before; you can do it again."

Jessica wasn't sure how to respond. Just because she escaped Earl and Freddie last year didn't mean she had natural talent—and she certainly didn't want it to become a recurring theme in her life! "Wait!" she gasped when they darted through a rose archway into the magnificent foyer. Beyond the tiered fountain in the middle of the marble floor stood two beautiful glass doors with intricate wrought-iron embellishments, matching side lights, and an overhead lunette. Jessica shook her head. "I'm not supposed to go outside! Sam warned me it's dangerous…"

"Sam's under duress," the hunter patiently remarked. "I doubt he's thinking clearly. But trust me, the Stynes only brought you here for the wedding and reception. When it's all over, they're not gonna need you anymore, and I can guarantee they'll kill you. They'll probably force Sam to watch. You have to run, and you can't look back. Don't worry about Sam. I'm not leaving without him."

He urged her forward, and she obeyed, despite her misgivings. If Sam was truly psychic, she could be heading straight to her death. But if she stayed, she would die anyway—the hunter was right about that. She might only have this one chance, and she was bent on taking it. Besides, this guy was a friend of Ellen's. He could be trusted. Right?

When they reached the double doors, the hunter wrenched one open and stepped out onto a well-lit porch. Jessica followed, only to stop short at the grisly sight on the walkway below—a man and woman were deliberating over two dead bodies—their throats had been slashed and blood was dripping on the ground. Jessica couldn't help but shriek, and the culprits glanced up in mild interest.

The man she immediately recognized as the yellow-eyed freak—a demon, according to Jacob—who had been harassing Sam. The woman, however, was unfamiliar—a gorgeous brunette in a dark green column gown with a single strap over her left shoulder. She was riddled in diamonds, but her pitch-black eyes warranted more attention. She wasn't human; neither of them were.

"Go back! Go back!" the hunter demanded, shoving Jessica inside. He pulled the door shut, snatched her hand, and barreled across the room, dragging her with him while cursing under his breath. His sudden alarm heightened her distress; it was all she could do not to panic. They were in so much trouble!

Just when she thought it couldn't get worse, Jacob appeared under the rose archway, effectively cutting them off. He frowned at the hunter, who compulsively drew a gun from a concealed holster beneath his jacket. Without a moment's hesitation, he aimed for the Styne's head, but wasn't fast enough to squeeze the trigger. Some sort of magical energy hit them from behind, knocking the weapon from the hunter's grasp and throwing him and Jessica both to the floor. A second blast sent them sailing in opposite directions. Jessica barely missed colliding with a floral arrangement as she spun onto her back.

Sitting up, she anxiously watched Jacob and Yellow Eyes approach the fallen hunter. No sign of the black-eyed woman; she must have remained out front.

"Sorry, John," Yellow Eyes taunted as he and Jacob paced around their common enemy. "It's not that I mind you shooting random Stynes—to be honest, they've kinda been asking for it. But Jacob's currently indispensable. You see, he and Sam are wearing these special friendship bracelets, binding them together. So if you kill Jacob, you kill your son, and wouldn't that be a travesty?"

It was hard to say who was more surprised. The hunter, by this unexpected threat to Sam, or Jacob, by the hunter's identity. "John Winchester?" he asked, squinting. "That's one hell of a get-up, sir. Why go through all the trouble of disguising yourself when you're more than welcome in our humble abode? We're always eager to host fine legacies such as yourself."

"My mistake," John said bitterly.

Jacob squatted down so they were nearly eye-level. "Did you really think you could sneak in here, all by your lonesome, and abscond with one of our guests?"

"It's worked before," John replied. "And besides, I wasn't alone. Apparently I've been gallivanting around your house with a demon." He and Jacob both glanced up to see Yellow Eyes watching calmly with folded arms.

"Not just any demon," he said with a wink. "My very own daughter." At Jacob's indignation, he sneered. "What? I'm still miffed at your aunt for encroaching on my authority. But I'm not siding against you, boy. I'm just trying to make a point. You're not the only one with a claim on Sam, and just so we're clear, my claim takes precedence."

Jacob stood to his full height. "That right?"

With the two villains sufficiently distracted, John caught Jessica's gaze. He mouthed the word, "Go!" and she didn't think twice. She was just a girl—how could she help the hunter against a demon and a Styne? By getting the hell out of here so he wasn't preoccupied with her safety.

Sliding backwards across the marble floor, she furtively inched her way to the far end of the foyer where she scrambled to her feet and ran for her life.

SPN

It didn't take Jacob long to notice Jessica's flight. Groaning, he abruptly abandoned his confrontation with the demon in favor of stalking her. "Where do you think you're going, Jessie?"

Meanwhile, John grunted, writhing against the hellish force that pinned him to the ground. How could he have been so stupid? Bela was a demon? No wonder she had been willing to help him—manipulative whore. She had practically served him up to the Stynes as a wedding present! And now, those two hostages were dead, Sam was no closer to freedom, and Jessica was in more danger than ever. Son of a bitch.

"Huh." Azazel peered after Jacob in surprise. "I can't believe he just left you with me. For all he knows, I could kill you right now, and you're a legacy. What's so special about her?"

They glanced at each other, and John fumed. This yellow-eyed scumbag was responsible for Mary's death and there was nothing he could do about it. He was at the demon's mercy, and it pissed him off. "You want to kill me? Kill me. Get it over with."

"Not so fast," Azazel chided, leaning over him thoughtfully. "I mean, what would killing you in a place like this accomplish? You're a good hunter, John, but you're not a threat to me. Not by a long shot. Which means I can afford to wait for a more strategic opportunity—perhaps when Sammy's around to watch. Won't that be fun?"

Shaking in outrage, John clenched his fists.

Azazel chuckled. "Now, if you don't mind…" He reached down and searched John's pockets, eventually finding and confiscating both of Bela's mojo bags. "It seems the Stynes have taken some precautions to keep me from teleporting, which means I need some extra batteries to get around. Thanks, John. I couldn't smuggle these in myself. I'm too high-profile. But you? You're the perfect delivery boy." And with that, he disappeared.

SPN

"Whatever happens tonight, don't go outside."

Not like she had much of a choice. Everywhere she turned, supernatural zombies and witches were going about their business, and if they realized she was running from Jacob, they were bound to apprehend her. She was trapped like a mouse in a maze with only one possible escape route—the back door—and refusing to take it would mean disaster.

Consequently, she raced out onto a breathtaking patio and proceeded across the lawn. Garden lights offered ample illumination, sparkling around the flowerbeds and along the path up to a domed gazebo, but Jessica turned away from them, seeking shelter in the shadows. A fountain bubbled to her left, so she veered to her right, noticing a cluster of crepe myrtles where she might be able to hide—at least long enough to gather her wits.

Trying not to cry, she pressed her hands against her mouth and struggled to collect herself. It wasn't fair. Magic. Demons. Monsters. They weren't real! This shouldn't be happening. She should be back at school, safe, with Sam, studying for their next exams, with their whole lives ahead of them. Not here. Anywhere but here.

"Jessica!"

She stiffened at the sound of Jacob's southern drawl. He was close, and he was amused.

"Come on back, darling! Can't leave without the magic word, so there's really nowhere for you to run!"

She shook her head and picked up her pace, eventually entering a courtyard lined by hedges. It was occupied by an enormous marble statue of an angry two-headed bird with wide, unfurled wings. It was monstrous—the pedestal alone reached her shoulder height—and for a terrible moment she could only stare at it in shock. Then she turned, eager to find some other refuge, only to find herself face-to-face with another woman.

Elizabeth. Beautiful, heartbroken Elizabeth. At some point in the last hour, she had ditched the reception and stolen a ceremonial knife for a midnight ramble in the garden. Now, she appraised her maid of honor with a severe expression and tears in her eyes. "You think you can escape when I can't?"

Jessica shrank back. "Please! I know you're not like the rest of them. We can help each other."

Elizabeth clucked her tongue and slowly advanced. "Unfortunately, darling, you're beyond helping. The moment you laid eyes on sweet little Sam, you were doomed."

Jessica caught her breath and bolted to the right, but didn't make it more than a few feet before she was swept up by an invisible current that carried her back to the pedestal. She was shoved against it with such crushing force that she groaned. Meanwhile, Elizabeth crossed over to her maliciously.

"It could be worse," she whispered sadly, stroking Jessica's face. "At least you won't be around to see what they have planned for your boyfriend." And with that, she brandished her knife and stabbed her victim through the chest.

SPN

Victor was shredding his captive's jacket with his bare fingers, smothering him with his mouth and tongue, when out of nowhere, Sam's mind was engulfed by Jessica's panic. The pain was blinding, and he howled with such anguish that Victor pulled back in surprise.

No!No!No!No!No!No!No!No!

Sobbing, Sam renewed his efforts to break free, but Victor held him down. Jessica was dying, and the bastard didn't give a damn. Oh, God. She was dying, and he couldn't save her!

JESS!

Bucking wildly, he pushed and shouted with everything he had, and Victor only laughed. He tightened his grip on Sam's free wrist, bruising it, and leaned down to nibble on his ear.

Fear quickly succumbed to shock. Sam's heart turned to lead and for an agonizing moment, he couldn't breathe. A vision of the courtyard came over him, and he watched helplessly as Elizabeth lowered Jessica's body to the ground. She was almost affectionate, handling the girl with care, but the cruel smile on her lips belied her gentleness. She was enjoying herself.

No

Sam felt Jessica's life fading away. Her eyes glazed over, and she was gone.

SPN

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