Supernatural: Next Generation

by waywardbard

Ben Braeden is just your average hunter out save the world. Mid-case he runs into another hunter, Claire Novak, and the two become partners. Life becomes more complicated when they encounter a drifter with inexplicable abilities named Jesse Turner.

35. Episode 18: Sincerest Form of Flattery

Getting groceries took surprisingly longer than he expected, and Ben found himself all but squirming as he pushed the little half-cart out through the doors and toward the car. He got all of five steps before he saw Jesse's body on the ground, curled up at an awkward angle. It felt like all the air had been squeezed out of his lungs.

"Jesse!"

The cart forgotten, Ben raced toward him, crouching down and checking immediately for a pulse. It was weaker than it should have been, staving his panic by fractions. Ben shook the older man.

"Jess, c'mon, wake up! Wake up!"

Head lolling, Jesse gave a groan, his face squinching up as he brought a hand up to cover his eyes. "Fuck. Light."

Ben finally took a full breath, his heart still racing as he helped Jesse sit up.

"You all right? Where's Claire?"

Pressing a hand to his temple with a wince, Jesse shook his head, looking around. "Something got me from behind. She was headed to the bathroom." He started that way before the words were out of his mouth, his steps a bit unsteady before Ben stopped him.

"You might have a concussion," Ben said with concern. "Sit down a sec. I'll go check."

Jesse waved him off as he firmly walked towards the bathroom. "It'll pass." He had to find Claire first; then they could worry about what had just happened to him.

Ben scowled slightly in frustration as he followed a few steps behind, his hand within reach of both his gun in his side holster and the flask of holy water strapped to his thigh. The two men moved into the women's bathroom within moments of each other, but the found it empty.

Jesse checked the two stalls, twice. Not good, not good, not good. His eyes stopped on the floor, feeling his stomach drop. He squatted down, opening the white take-out bag. "Shit. This was her lunch."

Ben was out the door before Jesse even finished his sentence, running at full tilt back toward the shopping mart. Both places were small, and in both cases he shouted out Claire's name, but there was no trace of her. The panic started flooding him again as he rushed back out, cellphone in hand and dialing Claire's number. It rang four times, going straight to voicemail.

"No. No, no, no, no, no- Fuck!"

When he got back to the car, he found Jesse leaning over the passenger seat, digging ferociously through his bag. He jerked back when he spotted Ben, getting to his feet. He didn't need to ask if he'd found her.

"I...I think I know who got her. The demon." Jesse's face was pale.

Ben threw his fist into the side of the GTO with all the force of a battering ram, his hands fisting up into his hair as he curled into himself.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" he shouted, the pain from his hand barely registering through the throes of his panic. He could feel himself hyperventilating as he quickly turned, grabbed the bags of food from the abandoned cart and threw them precariously into the back seat of the car.

"We gotta go, we gotta go-"

Jesse set a shaking hand on his shoulder, his eyes round. "We don't know where to go. We can't just-"

"THE HELL WE CAN'T!" Ben exploded. He was literally trembling with rage and fear. "We get on the phones, we call everyone we know, we fucking drive as fast as we can. It can't have ridden her out, so they're on the road, and they've only got a twenty minute head-start at best, so get in the fucking car!"

"We don't know which way!" Jesse's voice hitched. "Just- Just stop a minute, I'll talk to someone who can help us."

"Either get in the car," Ben said, his voice suddenly dropping in volume to barely above a growl, "or I'm leaving your ass here."

Jesse took his shoulders, swallowing hard as he met his eyes. "If you go in the wrong direction, it's only going to make it harder. Either way, you're not driving like this."

The fact that Jesse was being so calm and collected about what was happening only seemed to infuriate Ben even more. He threw Jesse's arms off him roughly, jabbing the keys into the trunk and opening it before he managed to find the box containing their fake IDs. Grabbing the first one that looked like a badge, he turned around and booked it back toward the shopping mart.

Trying not to feel hurt, Jesse slid into the car, shutting the door behind him. Closing his eyes, he said, "Ruth, I really, really need you right now. C-can you come?"

He'd barely finished the thought before the blond materialized behind him, her pale eyes wide with confusion and shock.

"Has something else-" she stopped herself before she finished, looking around the car.

[ No no no no not here not here not supposed to be here too close too close - ]

Jesse instinctively grabbed her arm. "Too close to what?" he snapped, harsher than he meant to be. She froze up like a rabbit in his grasp, her eyes nearly the size of saucers. The anxiety and fear radiated off of her.

"People here. Too many people, and hunters."

"The hunters are my friends, they won't hurt you," he said firmly. "But one of them got taken, by a demon. Do you know anything about that? Can you- Can you sense him?"

[ Not him not him not him not him ]

"No," she breathed out, still tense. "Nothing here now. Remnants, but not him." The remaining color in her face faded. "Wouldn't come if he were here."

[ He'd kill me stone dead can't let him find me can't let them find me don't wanna die but I would if you wanted me to ]

"I'm not asking you to die for me," he said firmly, already feeling the headiness that came with her emotions rushing at him. "Just, he took my friend, Ruth. They're going to hurt her. Can you help me find her? Is there any place around here they might go?"

"Not here-" [ Too many people ] "-the nearest place is gone-" [ burning burning so many dead screaming without sound ] "-two months now, at least." [ so much confusion flames leaping higher angels coming run run run get away while the watchers are gone ] "The only places I've ever known were Nursery and Academy." [ Clifton Clifton Clifton don't go there don't go back stay away run run run run run- ]

Her panic caught in his throat and for a moment he forgot to breathe. "Nowhere? It could be farther away. They'd have to drive. Just give me a direction, that's all I need."

The girl shuddered like a leaf, then suddenly her head turned sharply to the left and she sucked in a harsh breath.

"Let me go-"

[ No no no no no he's coming he's coming run run run get away have to run have to run can't let him see me run run run- ]

"Tell me where I should go and I'll let you," Jesse said, his expression hard.

For the first time since he grabbed her, she pulled against him, her eyes growing bright with fearful tears.

[ No no no no no no no- ] the words continued on like a beat beneath her rushed words, encompassed in her fear.

"Please, Jess-" she pleaded. "I don't know. I don't know. Haven't seen it-"

[ too fast like lightning never strikes in the same place twice race across the continent then hides she'll find me too he'll find me they'll find me can't let them find me gotta run gotta run can't stay wanna stay love you love you love you ]

Then her words rang with her power, made strong with her terror: "Let me go!"

The words brushed over him like a spider's web. His grip tightened on her arm. He could feel the fear coursing through her, but that didn't matter. They had to find Claire. "Tell me which way to go!"

"I don't know!" she wailed.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ben's form could be seen racing back to the car at full speed.

Jesse's expression twisted but he finally let her go. "Fine."

She was gone again in less than an eyeblink. Ben threw the car door open, his expression no less strained than when he'd ran off.

"Who-"

"Ruth," Jesse said shortly, not looking at him. He felt ill. "She healed your feet before. I thought she could help. I was wrong."

Ben shoved the keys into the ignition and twisted them hard, the car roaring to life. He didn't even bother explaining himself as he gunned off through the shopping mart exit, the tires squealing from the sudden displacement.

"I can't even handle that right now, man," Ben said in a rush.

Shifting away from him, Jesse leaned on his hand, staring out the window. Useless and a bully, great. He had one more person - thing - he wanted to talk to, but he had a feeling Ben wouldn't take it any better if he asked to go chat with the demon that had snatched Claire.

"It was a man and a woman," the younger man continued on, eyes glues on the road ahead of them. He didn't even signal as he got onto the highway entrance and crossed three lanes into the fast lane. Two different cars blared their horns at him. "They drove off in a police cruiser. Get on the line and call Lucas so we can see if he can activate the GPS in her phone."

Nodding and feeling foolish for not having thought of it himself, Jesse pulled out his phone and started dialing.

---

Consciousness didn't come back for Claire all at once. Like a slow tide rolling in, the first thing she was even remotely aware of was movement. The subtle lean in her equilibrium as well as the vibration of an engine and an uneven road paved the way to the opening up of the sounds that surrounded her. A distant song played on a radio, turned down. Other cars rushed by.

For an instant, she automatically assumed she was just laying down in the back of the GTO, but the next second, the dull ache in the side of her neck triggered the memory of its sharp origin. A body had pressed against her from behind in the truck stop bathroom, pinned her to the sink and jabbed something sharp and burning into her neck.

Claire opened her eyes and tried to suck in a breath, but it only collapsed the duct tape across her lips. Her hands twitched hard against the plastic zip tie that kept them together at her back. Full consciousness set in, finally, with a flood of barely suppressed panic on its heels.

"All right there, sweetheart?" came the tall, English vowels of the driver. A slim hand rose to adjust the rearview mirror in her direction, green eyes catching her form before wrinkling in the corners. "Sorry for the precautions, but I had to be sure you didn't try and end the party early."

That voice put a proverbial pick of ice into the back of Claire's skull. Wide-eyed, she glared through the wire mesh that separated her from the front seat of what was obviously a police cruiser, onto the back of the driver's head, then into the mirror. Not happening not happening not happening, the only cognitive thought that rushed through her head in those first few moments, all until the sharp ache in her shoulders brought her back to reality.

It was happening. A darted look around the back seat showed she was alone. Ben and Jesse- where were they? Were they jumped? Where they dead? No. Claire's eyes closed tight, her nostrils flaring with breath above the tape. She refused to entertain the thought, and blocked it out by grunting in effort, slamming her feet against the door.

"I never thought you were going to leave that blasted hospital," the demon continued on, sounding both bored and annoyed. "And when the lot of you warded that hotel room the night you finally left - Lord, that was a pain in my side. But I finally gotcha. It's only too bad I couldn't ride you out, that would make this whole mess so much faster. It'll be at least two days before we can get where we need to." Her red-painted lips upturned in a slow smile. "Unfortunately that means no bathroom breaks and no food or water. That's the trouble with tight schedules, though."

The only sign that Claire was listening - however badly she didn't want to - was a slight hesitation between hard, desperate kicks. The hair in her eyes barely masked the swirl of emotion, laced by equal parts rage and apprehension.

Two days. She had two days to get out, get away, get back. Though it hadn't been spelled out, on some deep level of understanding, Claire knew what the destination at the end of this 'trip' meant. The British demon in the driver's seat had tried it before.

Claire gritted something foul into the tape, and kicked at the door again. Visions of mindless slaves - vessels - with scars around their ears came back like nightmares, fueling the power she put into her legs. If she was going to get out, it was going to be in the first day, while she was still strong-before the impending starvation and thirst had a chance to do its work.

The demon sighed loudly. "Honestly, you're only going to hurt yourself doing that. Don't waste your energy. They've made quite a few improvements on these vehicles since I was last here; you're not about to get out anytime soon."

In the back of her mind, Claire knew the demon was right, but she gave the handle one last good kick anyway. Her chest heaved, not from spent energy so much as everything else. She'd let her guard down. She hadn't been watching. She was waiting. The whole time, she was waiting. Claire let her head fall back against the lower arm rest, hard plastic that smelled like oil and Lysol. Her eyes started to burn from behind.

"That's it." The demon chuckled, drumming her fingers on the wheel. "We're almost through West Virginia now. I'll call out the states we go through so you're not left too bored."

The hunter in the back glared razor blades at the rear view mirror, her jaw set like granite. Ignoring the pull to her shoulders, Claire tensed and angled herself more square to the driver's seat, coiled up, and slammed her boots against the wire set barely an inch from the woman's head. The car swerved slightly from the contact, but the demon only laughed louder.

"So feisty. I can see why my master was so adamant we take you; you'll give us a definite upper hand in the future."

The fuck I will, was Claire's automatic answer, but it dissolved into the duct tape. She took her frustration out with yet another kick, and a snarl that scraped deep in her throat. This 'Master' could only be that gray-eyed demon that attached himself to Jesse in Maine, who was still manipulating him. Again, her thoughts shot straight to both of them-Jesse and Ben.

I'm so sorry, she thought automatically, again shutting her eyes as her feet fell down to the floor. Claire sat up and leaned toward the door, scraping her cheek on the window. Maybe she could catch a corner of the tape and peel it off.

---

The conversation with Lucas had been a short and painful one. It was hard not to go into details about what happened, but with Jesse uncharacteristically quiet in the seat, Ben had no other choice but to direct the flow of conversation. It was going to take at least twenty minutes for the man in Las Vegas to hack into the system and activate the GPS in Claire's phone.

Assuming, of course, that it hadn't been disposed of. Claire normally kept the phone on silence unless she was expecting a call, and even then there was no guarantee that the demon who had snatched her hadn't frisked her.

While they were waiting for Luke's call, Ben had called Izzy and asked her to send out feelers through her connections. It was a wide net, but there was no guarantee anyone would bite or even make the effort to go looking for her. There was, however, at least one hunter who would no doubt drop what she was doing and search about as hard as they were planning to. Ben felt his chest constrict as he thumbed the number from the contact rolladex. It rang twice before there was an answer:

"Shaggy. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Just hearing Kat's voice was enough to make Ben's stomach twist a little harder.

"Where are ya, Kat?"

"Illinois. Why, what's wrong?"

Ben took a breath, then let it out.

"Claire's been snatched."

"What-?"

"We were at a rest stop, just getting onto 270-"

"How the hell did this happen!" came the snarl on the other end of the line. Kat's volume had risen considerably. Most likely she'd had to get away from whatever company she'd found herself part of in order to yell at him properly. Ben swallowed around the knot in his throat.

"We're chasin' after her-"

"That right? You know where she was taken?"

"No."

"So you could be chasin' a ghost for all you know!"

"Kat, I called Lucas and he's working on it."

"Shut up. You find a hotel and you park right now. You do this right, boy. Driving all night ain't gonna do you anything aside from waste your gas and leave you high and dry. Who took her?"

Ben flipped the turn signal to get into the exit lane, his body moving on automatic. Misery saturated every part of him. Jesse sat up, looking at Ben for the first time in miles but not saying anything.

"We're thinkin' a demon we've been tracking for a while. He was behind my sister getting snatched a couple months back."

"Do you know the demon's name?"

Ben nodded even though she couldn't see him. "Belial," he breathed. That got a frown from Jesse. "Or Abbey. Abbey's another demon working for him."

"What's the threat level? Maybe you could summon one, pin it down and make it talk."

Ben shook his head unnecessarily again. Belial would kill him the moment he laid eyes on him. Abbey, though-

"Could maybe get Abbey, if that's even her real name. But I've never done a summoning before."

The huntress gave a humorless laugh. "That's the smartest thing you've said all day, Shaggy. I'll text you the spell and the supply list, but you're on your own for tracking them down. Just make sure you lay down a devil's trap before you start. Can't have you getting killed."

The line beeped an incoming call and a quick glance showed Luke's name on the faceplate.

"Gotta go, that's Luke. Call ya in an hour."

Lucas didn't even bother saying hello. "Got a lock on her phone. It's not far from you, though you overshot it a bit. You'll want to turn back around on 270 and get off headed southwest on highway 109, or Old Hundred Road. After that, it gets a bit complicated. You got a GPS?"

Ben angled the question - "Jess, can you pull up your GPS?" - away from the phone before replying to Lucas: "Is it moving?"

Jesse immediately had his phone out, and Ben thumbed on the speaker option before sipping it into the dashboard dock.

"No, it's been still long as I've been looking at it. Ready? Latitude, 39.227599144403285. Longitude, -77.40692138671875."

Lucas recited the numbers slowly, and once they were typed into Jesse's phone the device gave a little jingling-beep to tell them it had been accepted before spitting out directions.

"Thanks, Luke," Ben said. His expression was tight. "While I got ya, there's one other thing I need you to do, if you can. I know we're askin' a hell of a lot from ya lately-"

"Shut up, man, it's what I do," Lucas said softly. "And if there's anything I can do to help you get back Claire, I'll do it."

Ben felt a flicker of relief deep beneath the heavy weight of his worry for Claire. "Thanks, man. Okay, so... we're pretty sure it's demons who took her. And I think since they're driving, there's gonna be activity along a path leading somewhere. Checkpoints at gas stations, y'know? If you could maybe start checking for that, and get some of your contacts on the line that might be in the area..."

There was a hitch of breath and silence before Lucas said, "Okay. I'll get the word out. Can't say it will be very helpful, because it's a bit of a long shot, but I guess we thrive on those."

"Any trail is better than chasing ghosts," Ben replied, borrowing Kat's angry words. "Thank you, Luke. For everything."

"No problem, man. You need anything or find anything, give me a call, alright?"

"Will do. End call," Ben spoke. The line went silent, and Ben's foot pressed a little harder on the pedal as they headed off in the directions the GPS sent them in.

It was a while before Jesse spoke up, cautiously. "What is 'Belial'?"

Ben visibly tensed up a little. "That's his name. The lead demon."

Jesse hissed in a breath, looking over at him. "The demon? How did you find that out?"

Ben kept his eyes pointed forward, the tension never leaving his frame. "An angel told me."

"When did you talk to an angel?" Jesse said, half snapping, half fearful. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Oh yeah, because I've had a lot of time to talk about what just happened to me!" Ben shouted back at him.

Jesse flinched. "I wasn't... When?"

"It doesn't matter," the younger man growled out. They were getting closer to the coordinates Luke had given them.

Quiet as he watched out the window, Jesse bit his lip hard. He couldn't hold it back, though. "Were they after me?"

"No," Ben said shortly. "He was making sure I transitioned through my coma." Apparently the henna tattoo didn't prevent his mind from being invaded.

That got another sharp look from Jesse. "Why?"

Ben kept his eyes on the road, looking for some sign of Claire. The roadside was nearly empty, but there was no sign of any buildings. Cold dread filled him. Please don't let her be in a ditch. God, please, I'll do anything.

"I don't know," came the distant reply.

Jesse pursed his lips but didn't say anything, looking at his cell phone. "Here, mate, stop."

Ben pulled over sharply, breaking so hard that they both jerked forward. He threw the door open and leapt out of the car.

"Claire!"

Yanking on the parking break, Jesse hopped out, looking around then back down at the phone. It said right there, but there was nothing. No place for them to hide Claire. His stomach rolled and he started kicking through the grass off the embankment. Not three steps in, he crossed over a set of tire tracks in the mud. Someone had obviously skidded off the road, stopped sharp, then peeled off in the same direction.

The sun glinted off something caked in dirt just inside the disturbed glass line. A foot beyond it, a large patch of weeds had been disturbed, flattened by a scuffle.

"Ben!" Jesse yelled, snatching up the cellphone. He wiped off the dirt, feeling sick. It was Claire's. Ben was at his side in three long strides, his face still pale in spite of not finding Claire dead in a ditch.

"C'mon," he said, his voice low as he turned and headed back for the car. It was back on Lucas to find them a trail.

---

It'd taken an forever to discreetly pry up a tiny corner of the tape over her lips, without the sharp eyes in the cruiser's rear view mirror catching on. Claire sat slumped in the hard plastic back seat, most of her face purposefully hidden by her hair. She moved achingly slow, drawing the side of her cheek on the seat only a little at a time. Bit by bit, the tape released more of her skin, then the corner of her lips.

She had to fight her own impulse to do it any faster, even concentrating on the deep burn in her shoulder joints from their unrelenting strain. It got more difficult as the time and the miles rolled on, but eventually, she was able to move her lips-and speak. On her first breath, she wasted no time.

"Exorcizamus te," Claire whispered through her teeth just under her breath, and staring through her hair at the back of the demon's head. "Omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas-"

The car screeched to a sudden stop. If they'd been on the high way, no doubt there would have been an accident, but Claire had noticed that they were taking the back roads in the midst of her slow process. The force of the sudden breaking sent her lurching forward, her head knocking hard against the grating. With a hard grunt, pain shot through her temple as skin scraped on the mesh. A warm tickle crawled down her brow bone and across her cheek, smearing as she braced a foot on the back of the seat.

"Omnis incursio infernalis adversarii!" There was no reason to hide it now. Claire's voice was harsh and growled with hatred-the incantation picking up speed. "Omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica!"

The door was thrown open, and moments later hers was also. Before she even had a chance to react, the demon yanked her out of the car by her hair, then slammed her head against the metal corner near the glass with significant force.

The next thing she knew was the smell of apple pie.

Claire opened her eyes; they widened as the familiar beige and maroon decor of her grandmother's kitchen came into focus. There was no squad car, no demon; her hands weren't wretched behind her back, but comfortably set on the formica table on which she remembered eating Cheerios with banana slices every Saturday morning until she was ten. The sound of the evening news played in the background, filtering through the warm autumn sunlight that lit the curtains over the sink.

Claire sat back against the chair, breathing in the comfort of fruit and cinnamon and her grandfather's cigar, trying to figure out if she'd just kicked off. That's when she noticed the slender figure in the corner of her eye, standing by the oven.

"Hello, Claire."

The angel's presence was soothing and familiar, taking the shape of the same woman she'd seen in Indiana, then again in Chackbay.

"Kadiel." Claire knew the voice better than the face. Seeing her supposed guardian did not calm the inkling that she was dead. She stared at the angel, unblinking and expectant. "...why are we here?"

"The henna mark you put on yourself has blocked my ability to find you," Kadiel answered gently, moving around to sit at the table. Her slender, long-fingered hands moved across the tabletop and took hers, her skin cool to the touch. "I sensed your distress. I had to wait until you weren't conscious to contact you."

Claire swallowed, watching the connection between their hands. The sigils she spoke of weren't for hiding from Kadiel-but from another. She looked up to the other woman's warm, brown eyes, wondering how much she had to do with that particularly hellish fiasco. But the phrase 'weren't conscious' rang a few bells in her head. It was sobering, remembering where her actual body was at the moment. Amitiel's dream could wait.

"You know where they're taking me?"

"No." There was genuine concern and pity in her eyes. "The demon orchestrating this is very old, and very clever. He's made at least a dozen different locations not too unlike whichever one he's taking you to. I have no idea which one, and I'm not even certain how many of them are decoys. The very way he's blockaded them forces our eyes away, so we are only given a vague generalization of where."

Claire's shoulders fell a little, but she didn't take her eyes off Kadiel. So much for her first knee-jerk hope that she could warn the boys. Her lips twitched, almost asking if they were alright. Then, she remembered the moment in Chackbay-the angel's reaction to Jesse.

She rolled her lips instead, looking around the warmth of their surroundings. "Not that I don't appreciate the little vacation," Claire's voice was honest, but strained. "But why contact me if you don't know where they're going with me?"

Kadiel's chest rose and fell, an unnecessary movement, but one showing the angel's inner struggle.

"Because you are the only eyes we have." She swallowed. "You must be strong, Claire. They won't let you escape easily. I would be able to join with you were you not blocked and you were willing to accept me, but that option isn't on the table. I know your heart isn't ready."

The words had a familiar ring to them that soured in Claire's stomach, but not the way it had in Amitiel's vision. This had the taint of guilt to it, and she wasn't sure why.

"So what is on the table," she asked quietly, opting to forgo going too deep into that guilt. There were more pressing matters. She could see it in the woman's eyes.

"If you are able to get into their stronghold, to survive and pull away long enough to tell us where they are, we could shake them all the way down to their very foundation." The angel's voice took on a stronger tone. "The blockade would fall. Our cherubim would be able to find the abominations. This war would dissolve before it even started."

Claire was quiet, locked in the angel's gaze and her own thoughts. Her heart leapt at the chance to diffuse the memories of the future in her head, at the option of a different path than the other angel ever suggested. Her shoulders shifted, a deep breath inflated her chest, then she slowly let it out.

"Guess if I'm going there anyway," she muttered, humorlessly and more to herself than anything. Her blue eyes fell back to the table top. "What do I have to do?"

"You must let them lead you to the lion's den," Kadiel told her.

Claire's brows arched slowly. "And then?"

"And then find a way to escape." Her eyes were deep with concern. "If you are able to break the sigil on yourself somehow, I will be able to aide you, but only once you are outside of the blockade."

Again, Claire went quiet, her eyes focused on nothing in particular, somewhere in the space between them. The demon that had nearly pulled her arm out of its socket back in Maine clearly had a similar intention this time around. At least a dozen locations... all of them hidden. I can see why my master was so adamant we take you. Claire moved her hand from the table to wipe at her face. Her stomach twisted as her thoughts pieced together.

"They're taking me to be with the other vessels, aren't they."

There was a stretch of silence, and then a soft, "Yes." Claire closed her eyes.

"I had that feeling..." She let her voice trail off, since there wasn't much else she could say. Two days in the back of a cop car without food or water was going to be the least of her worries. And even if she somehow escaped en route, the problem still existed.

And it wasn't going to get better.

"Any advice?" Claire asked with an almost breathless laugh that contained no humor. It was nervous, and matched the watery look in her eyes when they set on Kadiel once again-frightened, but flying in the face of that fact. The angel squeezed her hands and didn't let go.

"Have faith." The angel gave her a faint smile, her eyes filled with hope and confidence. "The pieces are falling into place. It will not be easy, but we will prevail. You will prevail."

Kadiel's final sentence echoed in Claire's subconscious as it faded from the bright comfort of her memory, back into the darkness and ache of her reality. She was in the back of the cruiser again, a new layer of tape around her mouth (and around her head, bunching and pulling at her hair). The smell of blood caked across her cheek rivaled that of the plastic seat.

She rolled stiffly so that the roof of the car filtered into her gaze, between the white sparks of a mild concussion. Beneath her, all ten fingertips had gone numb from the pinch.

"Next time you try anything, I'll crash the car and leave you to burn alive in the wreckage," the demon hissed out. "You are replaceable. The only reason you're even alive is because my master likes you. Be thankful of that."

Among the many words that could've - and did - come to Claire's mind, one stuck out the most: Irony.

She closed her eyes and fought the sick feeling in her gut that went with the stabbing light of passing headlights. Puking into a gag would be almost as desirable as burning to death in a wreck.

Claire was quiet after that, shifting only enough to get the blood back to her fingers and if at all possible, attempt to sleep. She wanted to go back to her grandmother's kitchen, whether Kadiel was there with more words of encouragement or not. She wanted to smell that apple pie and the hint of cigar, but most of all-she wanted Ben and Jesse to be there waiting.

---

Ben seemed to be trying to make up for not knowing where they were going by driving there as fast as he could. Jesse didn't comment. It wasn't like he was any help, and it least they had a general direction.

He'd fallen into silence, hardly saying two words the whole trip. There was one more thing he could do, one more person-thing he could talk to. He didn't think Claire would approve, but that didn't matter as much as getting her back.

The only problem was Ben. Jesse immediately dismissed the idea of just popping out to see the demon without saying anything. He didn't know how long he would be, and Ben was panicking enough. If he told Ben everything, though, that might not lessen the panic any. He might even try to stop Jesse from going. To be honest, he was nervous about trying to come back to a moving car again. If they could stop, just for a half hour or so, he could chase the demon down.

As if hearing his thoughts, Ben pulled off the next exit, turning into a gas station.

"What's wrong?" Jesse said quickly.

"Running on fumes," Ben muttered, his voice low and tired as he pushed the door open and slid through it. "Gotta fill up, drain out and caffeinate. I'll be back in fifteen."

"Wait." Jesse's voice was sharper than he meant, his throat seizing in a panic. He tried to swallow. "I...I have to tell you something. There's-there's someone else I could talk to about finding Claire."

Ben stopped at the other side the door, slouching to look in through the open window. He looked at Jesse with dark circles under his eyes, exhausted but expectant.

Jesse focused on the windshield as he said quietly, "I could go talk to the demon."

"How?" Ben countered, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Jesse still didn't look at him. "It's complicated. And I'll tell you everything later. Just...now we should find Claire. And I know where to find the demon."

Ben shook his head. "It's too risky." He swallowed hard, his eyes briefly dropping and his voice cracking, "Claire wouldn't want that." He moved around to the car, swiping his card through the reader before lifting the nozzle and pushing it into the gas socket. Flipping up the latch so it auto-filled, he said, "We'll get the supplies to summon Abbey first thing in the morning when the shops open."

Sinking lower in his chair, Jesse practically whispered, "He won't hurt me. It'll be safe. We can get Abbey in the morning either way, I just..."

Ben stared at him through the passenger window, his expression dark and unreadable before he finally spoke: "Why are you even asking me? I thought you did whatever you wanted?"

Jesse's lips parted but nothing came out. It felt like everything inside him had turned to stone and he was just waiting for his skin to follow suit. Eyes dropping to his knees, he stayed silent. Ben returned the silence, straightening up. He licked his lips and took a breath to speak, but simply dropped his head and shook it, then turned in the direction of the little gas station's storefront. Jesse waited until the door closed behind Ben before wiping at his eyes. That was exactly it, wasn't it? He did whatever he wanted without thinking, and now it led to Ben in a coma and Claire getting kidnapped. All because he was too damn selfish. And right now he wanted to go after that demon, almost more than anything in the world.

But not more than he loved Ben.

Sniffing hard and wiping his eyes one more time, Jesse was still there when Ben got back.

---

It was dark again when Claire woke with a startled muffle into the tape around her mouth, jarred back into consciousness by a noise so loud, her first panicked thought was crash. But she wasn't suddenly engulfed in spilled gasoline or flames. There was moisture in the air, in the wind that pushed through the cruiser, since something had opened the door. It was raining sheets, and the loud noise had been a peal of thunder.

Strong arms grabbed her around the middle, throwing her over a tall shoulder before steadily marching through the rain. In less than ten wide steps they were under cover again, the doors thrown open by an unknown force. Even as she was taken inside, distant screams of pain met her ears.

"Took you long enough," a gruff male voice called out.

"They were in Maryland. I got back as fast as I could."

"Whatever," came the sharp retort. "Stick her in processing with the others."

The enslaved vessel delayed only a moment before moving off again. Claire could feel every step taken beneath her like separate punches to the gut. The water in her hair, even mixed with dried blood, was its own form of torment; it'd been almost two days, maybe more from what she could tell. Her throat felt like it was lined with sandpaper, and the hunger pangs had started to spread into her joints.

But all she could do was steel her stomach with each step. Her eyes were wide under the veil of hair, finding every detail she could.

Six steps to a corner. A hallway-with doors. Doors at measured increments. ...four, five, six- Another scream muddled by the walls interrupted her thinking. For the moment, Claire closed her eyes and bit back the wave of nausea that came with it.

They traveled down another hallway, down a flight of stairs, and four doors over before the vessel stopped. The door was opened, and Claire unceremoniously dumped inside it. The horrible stench of unwashed skin and waste rushed toward her as the door was firmly shut and locked from the outside. Never before had she been so thankful for the sharp crack of her hip and shoulder on the hard floor; the pain was good and distracting, because she had never wanted to throw up so badly in her entire life.

It took a while before she could do anything besides force herself to breathe. When the waves finally started to pass, Claire rolled stiffly onto both knees and sat back on her heels. The movement cut the plastic tie around her wrists into the grooves it'd already worked into her skin. Warmth seeped into her palm after a sharp pinch that let her know the wound was open again. It barely registered.

Her concentration was fixed on the sound of movement and breathing not too far off.

"Fuck, we could have gone for it," a male voice uttered, but a woman cut him off.

"Shut up, they'll hear you."

"Let 'em hear!" he snarled. "What else are they gonna do other than kill me! Fucking do it already, you cowards! It stinks like a sewer in here! Don't you know what long-term exposure to methane gas'll do to a person!"

Claire tried to shake the hair out of her eyes, but the movement made the room spin. She was still concussed; even the very dim light of what was apparently a storage room scraped at the back of her eyes. They closed for another moment; her head hung heavy between her shoulders.

Get up. The thought echoed faintly through her mind, riding diminishing waves of weakness. Claire clenched her hands into fists and gnashed her teeth, then rolled her shoulders back with enough momentum to get to her feet, where she wavered. Breaths from the effort cut through her nose, flaring her nostrils.

"Open the fucking door!"

"David, shut your damn mouth!" another man cried.

The man called David only shouted louder. "OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!"

"New girl, if you have any strength in you at all, can you please kick David in the stupid balls so he'll shut the hell up before he gets them to come back?" the second man snarled out. "I'd do it myself, but my ankle is busted."

Someone in the room started crying. The sounds behind Claire had been as ominous as the stench, and just as heavy. Even after her equilibrium returned, she'd been reluctant to turn around.

Swallowing the taste of bile in an already rancid throat, her boots scuffed the dirty floor as she slowly whirled to face the other prisoners. A handful of them, filthy and in various states of obvious abuse. Claire's eyes briefly dulled before she blinked the sting away.

"Jesus, they duct-taped her mouth!" David gasped, his voice taking on a tone of renewed outrage. The only light coming into the room was from the crack beneath the door, but apparently the occupants were well used to it by now.

"Shut up and help her, you idiot!" the woman from earlier commanded. David limped forward, leaning in close.

"Sorry, I just-" he shrugged his shoulders and gave her a wane smile, then lipped at the corner of the duct-tape on her mouth until he caught it in his teeth. Claire closed her eyes against the second horrendous churn in her stomach with the disturbed air that surrounded him; she bore down on her tongue with her teeth to keep the sick feeling in check until he pulled back. She turned away to help; the gritty noise in her throat was a direct result of bits of skin and hair leaving with the tape.

Not even a breath later, Claire half-stepped back and crumpled against the wall, heaving up the contents of her stomach-which was barely enough to spit.

"If you could kindly direct your vomit to the far left corner-"

"David, so help me God, if you say ANOTHER WORD-" the woman cried out shrilly.

"Everyone just shut up!"

That voice belonged to someone much younger. On cue, the room went dead quiet, save for the quiet crying. Claire spit the bad taste out of her mouth, simply content to breathe without having to suffer the smell for a moment, but the youthful voice that was still echoing in her ears was very sobering.

"You don't want the silence," Claire finally muttered, her voice hoarse and burning in her throat. "They do." Her eyes were adjusting better; they swept the hobbled, broken figures against the wall, finally settling on David. He was obviously the latest one before her. He had the life in his eyes the others had started to lose.

The younger voice belonged to a girl who might have just hit puberty. She leaned against another girl - the one who was sobbing quietly. The injured man sat midway between the right wall, his leg propped up on what appeared to be a busted up coffee can, its contents long-since gone. A woman sat next to him, her fair hair dirty and mussed with her face against her knees. On the opposite wall was another woman, the coffee-colored skin of her legs mottled with deep bruises.

"What d'you mean, they want the silence?" David pressed, the whites of his eyes unnaturally bright in comparison to his dark complexion.

Claire swallowed hard. She had the unfair advantage of having seen the end result to this assembly-line torment. She just hadn't anticipated having to explain it to a group who'd already started living it-who she doubted she'd be able to save.

"Because of your bloodline, they brought you here to break you," she continued on slowly, pressing her back to the wall to take the strain off her shoulders. Her wrists were still bleeding fresh every time she moved her hands. "They want you as slaves; the ones they're able to get to that point-they don't hear. They don't speak. I've seen it."

A heavy silence fell by the time Claire finished speaking. Then the woman on the left wall also started to cry, her voice breaking as she started speaking a long string of Spanish: "Padre nuestro, que estás en el cielo. Santificado sea tu nombre. Venga tu reino. Hágase tu voluntad en la tierra como en el cielo-"

"How?" David pressed, taking a step closer. "How do you know? There's others that speak; maybe they just don't because there's nothing worth sayin'-"

Claire watched him for something solid to keep her focus, but she didn't answer immediately. How could she? Because I do just didn't seem like an answer that would satisfy any of them. She sighed quietly, keeping David's shadowed features in her gaze.

"I've been hunting these 'others' for almost ten years."

Before she could add more, the door suddenly opened again. The same tall vessel who had carried Claire in entered, and everyone - including David - pulled back. The crying girl openly sobbed. But it was the woman speaking Spanish that the vessel went for, hefting her up bodily by her right arm. She fought back as brutally as she could, digging her heels into the floor.

"No, por favor, ten piedad!" she begged, her voice high and gasping as she shook her head violently, but the vessel remained oblivious and simply moved to lift her over his shoulder. "¡Por favor! Dios, sálvame!"

Claire's stomach lurched as a million urges shot through her brain; a fight instinct that combined with compassion and pride flared in her veins, and she stiffened, coiled before the strike. But she was weak, dizzy, and nearly blinded by the light that spilled in from the open door. Before she knew it, the silent vessel slammed his hand into her shoulder when she got too close. David, then the wall stopped her fall before the door pulled shut. Terrified Spanish faded into the distance.

She'd only felt so helpless and useless one other time in her life: the day she found her mother in the bathtub.

"Her name was Maite," the young woman said quietly. "She'd been here the longest."

Claire struggled to right herself on her knees; the force of the fall had every joint in her body burning with ache, and the darkness in the room was spinning. She closed her eyes against it, hanging heavily over her lap.

"Assist Maite, O Lord our God," Claire's voice was weak and tight with breath, but spilled a prayer she'd known since before she was tall enough to reach for the Bible on her father's desk. "-and defend her evermore by the might of Thy Holy Cross in whose honor Thou makest us rejoice... In Christ, our Lord, Amen." She pulled in a hard breath, forcing the burn of tears back down her throat, and started reciting the plead for protection again.

The two girls' voices joined in where they sat, the girl on the left's words broken occasionally with sobs. Midway through, the injured man added his voice to the prayer. By the time Claire started the third repeating, even David was praying along.

---

Sleep was impossible, at least for him. Jesse stood in the middle of the hotel room, staring down at Ben's naked form curled on the bed. He had his back to Jesse. All Jesse wanted to do was go on a walk, but he couldn't without Ben. He walked around to the other side of the bed to face him, but Ben's back was to him again. He walked quickly back, and again, but no matter where he moved or how fast, Ben always had his back to him.

He heard the click of the door latch and spun around just in time to see long, blond hair disappear through.

"Claire!" he shouted, sprinting through the door and right into thick woods. He caught another glance at her hair as she ducked around a tree, running from him. He didn't slow down. "Claire! Claire, stop!"

"She can't."

A tiny voice echoed off the trees, off the fog, off the very darkness that surrounded him before becoming solid. Right behind him, an adolescent girl in a Catholic school uniform stood on a log. Her yellow hair was pinned back at one side, but otherwise swallowed her small shoulders.

Jesse's breathe caught as he looked at the girl, but he quickly turned away towards the spot Claire had disappeared from view. "Why? She has to come back."

"She wants to," the girl-version of Claire responded after a short pause. Her voice had fallen. "But she can't yet."

"But you're here." Jesse's mouth tightened as he looked at the girl. "You're Claire, aren't you?"

She just stared at him for a moment, her fingertips playing nervously with the pleats of her skirt.

"I was."

Jesse frowned. "What are you now? A ghost? A memory?"

The girl looked behind her as if she heard something in the woods, but seemed to think better of it. She sighed quietly, setting herself down on the log and folding her hands on her skirt. Her shoes didn't even reach the ground.

"I'm the Prom she never went to; the entrance exam to Weslyan still in its manila folder. I'm the boy she didn't meet in the English class she never enrolled in, and the wedding dress she never fell in love with."

Jesse's lips parted, a sharp wrench in his chest. He hesitated only a moment before sitting next to her. "Claire wanted those things?"

"There were a lot of things she wanted," she replied, watching him with a vague sadness. "But those weren't part of the plan."

Jesse was instantly on his feet. "Don't talk about plans. There isn't a Plan. There are things people want to do and things that get in the way, that's it."

The teenager followed Jesse with her eyes-big blue eyes, too large for her face. His outburst didn't seem to affect her expression in the slightest. "What is it you want to do?"

The words came easy. "I want Claire back," he said, his chest hitching. "I want Ben to stop being mad. I want to take them someplace safe to hide, where there's no angels or demons. Just us."

"How do you intend to make this happen?"

He gave a wet laugh. "I can't. I can't make any of it happen. Even if I get Claire and Ben back, they won't hide."

"They can't hide," she corrected him softly. "They never could, Jesse. Their lives have specific purpose-as does yours. Claire knows this, which is why she can't come back to you yet."

"They could hide if they wanted to!" Jesse suddenly snapped, tears in his eyes. "If they stopped caring about other people, we could be safe!"

The manifestation of Claire's innocence looked on him sadly, silence sweeping over the little clearing like fog over the fallen birch she sat on. She scooted off of it to the ground and warmly curled her arms around his waist, her cheek pressed a good seven inches lower on his chest than Claire's would in the same position. Jesse's face crumpled and he held on to her tight, wishing she was the real Claire.

"You know that's not true," she soothed. Somewhere in the distant dark, something shrieked. The child in his arms twitched, squeezing a bit tighter. She buried her cheek in his shirt. Jesse squeezed tighter too, looking around.

"We've got to find her. Do you know where she is? Is she alright?"

"I only know where she isn't," she answered, though her voice went tight when another scream pierced the dark, closer and more familiar. "And it's nowhere close to where she wants to be."

It felt like the darkness was closing in on them. Jesse held her tighter, his tongue feeling thick. "I have to do something. But I don't- I don't know what to do."

"Have faith."

The voice that answered was not the higher pitch of an older child, but the woman she'd grown into. Jesse was gripping air; the school girl had disappeared, and Claire stood right behind him, her bloodied back facing his way.

"Claire?" His voice hitched on the word. He wanted to reach out to her, to hold it, but there was hardly an inch of her that didn't bleed. "Oh God, Claire. I'm...I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Claire turned to face him, dirtied and beaten, the expression on her face was difficult to read, but there was definitely sadness in her eyes.

Shaking, he fell to his knees. "You're hurt. You're hurt and it's my fault."

"We would have ended up here even if you never came," a voice echoed behind him, deeper and more resonating. "It was the life we chose. The life we were destined to lead. It was never your fault."

Jesse jerked back, his eyes falling on Ben's overly shaggy, dirty, half-starved form, then back to Claire. "It's not destiny! It's a fucking choice. You weren't destined for anything. I'm not destined for anything."

"You haven't been shown the road, yet," Claire's voice had started to melt into the fog, just like the rest of her body. As if sensing her impending departure, her eyes took on a desperate glint as she stumbled forward to her knees, taking Jesse's face in her hands. "But you're on it. It'll bring you to me-but you have to have faith."

The tears spilled over from Jesse's eyes as he tried to hold onto Claire's disappearing hands. "I have to find you. I have to save you."

Fading into the gloom, Claire's lips moved, saying something without voice before she disappeared completely. Jesse grabbed frantically at the empty air.

"No no no, Claire, please, come back! I'm sorry!"

"It won't be long now." Ben's voice took on a far-away, echoing quality. "The clock is ticking and the walls will come tumbling down. We'll all end up broken. But at least the others will be saved."

Jesse stumbled to his feet, reaching for Ben, but he was already disappearing. "It doesn't have to be that way, Ben! Please! We can leave! We can always leave!"

Ben's voice floated back to him as he disappeared from sight: "But what if I don't want to leave?"

"No! Please!" Jesse sobbed. But there was no one to hear him. He felt the world tilting, falling, until he was on the ground. It was soft and warm and his hands grabbed tightly to the bed sheet. He gasped, opening his eyes to see moonlight glowing around the edges of their hotel room's curtains. Ben stirred slightly in his sleep, curling into himself a bit more. His face scrunched up a little before evening out again, but he remained asleep.

All Jesse wanted to do was roll over and hold Ben tight, but the man deserved some sleep while he could get it. But Jesse's heart was still racing and his eyes threatened with tears; he couldn't just lie there. Quietly, and carefully, he slid out from under the covers.

That was the problem with sharing a bed with a hunter, however: the slightest change in the environment around them was enough to have them flinching awake. Ben inhaled sharply and rolled, catching him at the wrist before he even managed to take a step away from the bed.

"Sorry. I didn't-" Jesse's voice caught and he had to swallow before he could speak. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"Wuzrong?" Ben said thickly, letting go just as easily as he'd reached for him to rub the sleep out of his eyes.

The selfish center of him that Jesse was really starting to hate thought that, since Ben was up anyway, he might as well benefit. The rest of him tried not to give in. "Go back to sleep," he said quietly. "It was just a...weird dream."

Ben blinked a few more times, his brow knitting together before he focused more intently on Jesse's face. While he was certainly tired, he could see the other man's grief. Jesse had never been that good at hiding what he was feeling.

"C'mere."

Relief washed over him. Sliding back into bed, Jesse curled against Ben, tears threatening to spill. He wanted so desperately to be safe, and right here was the only place he ever felt it. Ben wrapped his arms around him tightly, pressing every available inch of himself against Jesse, resting temple-to-temple with him. He could feel the heat of Jesse's breath against his neck, little bursting gasps from the compression of his lungs.

"I gotcha," he whispered. "S'okay. S'gonna be okay. It was just a dream."

Jesse nodded though his eyes screwed shut tight. "Stay with me," he said, his voice strained. "Whatever happens, just stay with me."

Ben swallowed hard against him, trying hard to silence the guilt he felt creeping into him. Jesse and Claire could survive if he took it upon himself to save them. They wouldn't have to witness another attempt at ending the world, but to do that he would ultimately die himself, or be as good as dead and let the angel enter him. Kissing Jesse's temple, he nodded gently.

"Always," came the murmured reply.

After a while curled close to Ben, Jesse's breaths were coming easy again. He finally said, "It wasn't like the dreams Belial usually sends me. This...Things were strange. I jumped around, and some stuff was impossible."

Ben brought a hand up to stroke the back of Jesse's head. He thought for a moment to stay quiet and just let Jesse ramble, seeing as the man never really got down to sharing his thoughts much, but Ben knew deep down that Jesse needed the hand to hold. He didn't feel confident without it, not when it came to these new and sensitive things.

"So you think they came from someone else?"

Jesse's mind immediately jumped to Ruth and his stomach clenched. "I don't know. I'm just sick of people getting into my head. I'm sick of them using you and Claire against me."

You're not the only one, Ben thought in answer, hugging Jesse tighter. "They're not just after you, you know."

"Doesn't feel that way," he said with a bitter laugh. But his stomach sank. Ben didn't know to what extent they already had him. He'd said to Claire he'd tell Ben, and keeping him in the dark now might prove dangerous. Taking a breath, he clung tighter to Ben.

"I think this is all my fault. I made a deal with Belial."

Ben tensed, his hand coming to a stop as his pulse suddenly sped to a gallop. He felt the urge to pull back, to get a better look at Jesse's face, but the grip he had on Ben was enough to stop him from moving just yet.

"What kind of deal?"

Thinking about it was bad enough. "I lied to you about that night with the pied piper. When I shot him, the kids, they all fell down dead. And I couldn't do anything to bring them back, so I called Belial to do it. It wasn't a bad deal," he said quickly, though the seeds of doubt Claire planted had certainly grown. "Whenever he calls me, I have to come and listen. I don't have to do anything, just listen."

That time Ben did pull back. His wide hazel eyes rapidly scanned Jesse's face. "No," he said, anxiety flooding through him and coloring his voice. "That can't be it. Six souls just to have you come when he calls? There's a catch."

Jesse felt heat rushing to his face. "That's what Claire said, too. And-and I guess the summoning process is painful. You saw it, when we were out shooting. But that's all there is, I swear." He managed to meet Ben's eyes, but Ben was shaking his head.

"No, there's gotta be more. There's always more. He wouldn't have done it if he-" Ben cut himself off, his eyes widening further. "How did you seal it?"

His stomach sinking, Jesse said, "With a handshake. Though it-it was painful. Like the summoning."

Panic started beating against Ben's ribcage where his heart should have been. "He linked with you somehow. How else would you have known where to go where he summoned you?"

Jesse's eyes were wide. "W-what's that mean?"

Ben pulled Jesse against him, holding on as if for dear life. No. No, no, no, no. Please don't leave me. You're all I have left, please, please, please-

"It means he can find you."

Fear converged into solid, aching fact. "It's my fault. They found Claire because of me." And they might still be coming. He automatically jerked, trying to pull back from Ben.

"You're not leaving," Ben said tightly, not letting go. "This doesn't change anything. We're gonna find Claire, y'hear me? And we're gonna fix this. Deals can be broken." He'd never heard of one being broken in his life, but there had to be a way.

It was that finally glimpse of hope that pulled a sob from Jesse's lips, his face burying in Ben's chest. "Thank you. Thank you for not making me go. I'll save her, I swear. I'll do anything."

No, I'll save you, Ben mentally vowed as he shushed Jesse quietly. "You think you're getting rid of me that easily, Turner? Hand to God, I will follow you wherever you run off to. Count on it."

---

It would have been just as easy to break into a new age store and simply steal everything they needed, especially for Jesse, but Ben didn't want to risk any additional or unwanted attention being turned their way. They'd gathered what they needed from Kat's texted list, avoiding the shopgirl's polite small-talk as to what they needed everything for, then raced back to the nearest abandoned farmstead they'd found on the drive through town. Ben found the box of white chalk and moved to the wooden boards they'd dragged in earlier, drawing up the greater seal of Solomon, meant to trap and render a demon unable to use its power. It was much more elaborate than the typical devil's traps he was used to using, but he had to be sure.

Jesse sat on the floor, watching him with red, sleepless eyes. His stomach clenched with nerves, and he felt like a traitor for it. They had to do anything they could to get Claire back, it was as simple as that. He shouldn't feel anything else.

"Can I help?" he asked, his voice a bit rough.

"Get another piece and draw that summoning sigil just on the outside of this. I'll get the ingredients for the spell after I'm done here."

Coming over to give Ben's arm a quick squeeze, Jesse nodded and grabbed some chalk to get to work. Working carefully to get the details right and avoid accidentally stepping into the devil's trap himself, he hardly noticed as Ben left and returned. Straightening, he met the other man's eyes.

"Finished."

Ben placed the censer in the center of the circle in the sigil, a candle in each of the circles on the end of each stalk leading outward from it, then lit the charcoal brick. Gathering up a pinch of the herbs they'd ground down to a powder, he sprinkled it onto the charcoal. Smoke rose quickly, smelling pungent and burning his eyes. He started the summoning chant, the Latin low and clipped. As he spoke, the flames of the candles grew hotter and higher, leaping up at least three inches before a rush of wind blew them out.

Just on the edge of the battery lantern light, the chair in the middle of the Devil's Trap now had an occupant; a spindly brunette wearing a flight attendant's uniform. A brief look of confusion washed her brown eyes as they turned up to the two that summoned her. That confusion was very quickly replaced with annoyance.

"I do not need this right now," she rolled her eyes.

"Neither do we," Jesse said, his teeth clenched. "So I'll be quick. Tell us where Claire is." His voice thrummed with power. She looked directly at Jesse, flashing a cold smile.

"Y'know, I really have no idea." Though it was still venomous, Abbey's smile turned oddly sweet. She folded her hands in her lap.

A strum of panic went through Jesse. "Tell us where Claire is!" he yelled, taking a sharp step towards her. Abbey arched both brows and canted her head.

"I don't know," she answered, much more directly. "Have you tried Cancun? It's lovely this time of year."

"We know you took her," Ben growled out. "We saw the tape. Nice job with the police cruiser, by the way. Where did you take her?" The demon turned her head toward Ben, her smile taking on a cruel edge.

"Why, thank you, Benji. You know, I picked up that trick from your father. Good for getting through traffic." Her brows lifted; she continued to avoid the question. "Did you know I knew him?"

Ben felt his stomach twist up into knots at the very mention of his father. Once again he was reminded of his memories, of his mission, of what he needed to do in order to end this war. Without replying he pulled the flask from the holster on his thigh, twisted off the cap, and sloshed its contents on her face. White, ethereal smoke poured off of her as she recoiled with a shriek of pain.

Jesse reached for Ben but fell short of touching his shoulder. The flask's contents made him nervous as well.

"Where did you take Claire?" he repeated.

Abbey's flushed face twisted even further into something like a snarl. "Oregon! La Grande, Oregon, where she was supposed to go a long time ago." She snapped a look back to Ben. "The fruit doesn't fall far from the tree, does it, Benji. Daddy was a mean son of a bitch, too. Wanna know some of the stories I heard about him from his time in Hell?"

Ben crossed into the circle before he could stop himself, drawing his hand back hard and backhanding her with all the strength he had. Though her head snapped to the side, displacing her carefully arranged hair, the demon just laughed.

"That's it," she hissed, sneering at him with blood spilling from her lip. "Anger issues run in the family, don't they? Among other things."

"Spare me," Ben barked. "I'm all caught up, thanks." He grabbed a fistful of her hair and twisted her head upward, bending down so that he was close to her face. "You tried to kill my mother and my sister, and then you took my girl. If I ever see you again, I'll kill you." He threw her head back, glaring down at her as he started chanting out the exorcism ritual.

"I got this," Jesse said, cutting him off firmly as his eyes fixed on Abbey. "Go to fucking Hell."

The demon's head tipped back and she screamed, body rigid and voice breaking as the smoke poured out of her. When the last of it faded into nothing her body slumped forward, nearly falling out of the chair. Ben caught her before she dropped, moving her hair out of the way as he checked for a pulse. It was weak, but still present. Without speaking, Ben slid his arms under her knees and lifted her with a grunt of effort, then moved to put her in the GTO, Jesse at his heels. They needed to get her to the hospital before she woke up.

---

Chinese water torture seemed like a ridiculous idea. What harm could water really do? And it wasn't like Claire hadn't been through much worse.

Which didn't explain why it was such a relief when she heard a door open to the small room. There was a click, and a dim yellow light turned on overhead. Restraints kept her from looking over, but she didn't need to. A face leaned over her, young and smiling.

"Hello," the boy said. He couldn't have been more than sixteen years old, his near-black hair tucked back in a ponytail. His expression was serene, almost impassive.

Had she not been strapped to a table and assaulted by drops of water for hours, confusion might've been Claire's first reaction. The kid now blocking the piercing light should've been on the set of some kitchy Disney channel show, or waiting in line for the newest video game with his friends-not grinning down at a kidnapped hunter in the middle of a demon nest.

She didn't fully trust her senses right then, either, but hallucinations didn't typically hang around so long. Or did they?

Claire closed her eyes, regardless of how they twitched every time another drop hit her on the forehead. Weak from lack of food, water, and sleep made even the most subtle rise in her blood pressure feel like hot tar moving through her veins. She opened her eyes again, hoping the kid wasn't there. Of course, he was.

His smile widened. "Water bothering you? I'd turn it off, but you might as well get used to it, so."

"Oh, I'm used to it," she lied with another twitch. After the first hour, her muscles had knotted up from stress to the point where she doubted she'd be able to walk right. "Nothing like a good shower."

"We do like to keep our pets clean," he said, lightly brushing the damp hair from her forehead. He glanced down towards her crotch. "'Course, you don't count as one yet. Leaves me dealing with the smell."

"You poor baby." Claire's voice was gritty, practically dragged through malicious sarcasm. She swallowed the brick in her throat in an attempt to temper her breaths. Just this kid's presence was enough to trigger deep, tense instincts, as well as a few recently learned ones.

He tilted his head before stepping back. After a moment, he came back with a water bottle. He stuck it in her mouth, giving one small squeeze, before pulling it away again. Even a little shot of water at that force and angle flooded her sinuses as well as her throat; her brow slammed against the strap that held her down when she gagged, coughing up the excess water.

Propping on his elbows, he leaned closer to her. "So why do you think you're here, Claire?"

"You tell me," she sputtered, struggling for breath.

The boy raised his eyebrows. "Because you might be useful. Might," he said lightly. "'Course I'm sure you've put two-and-two together and realized there are quite a lot of your type here."

Claire's eyes were watering when she opened them again. She could make out the corner of the boy's face in her peripheral vision. She swallowed again. "So I've noticed."

She felt a finger running along her arm. "So. You're not special. Because I know that's what you've been thinking, tucked away, tied up. You're just one of many. And you're not necessary."

A colorless laugh cut from the back of Claire's throat, interrupted by another twitch, from another drop. The line of sensation left by the touch on her arm felt like oil; it made her stomach twist. "That's a lot of effort for someone so unnecessary, Junior. I'm surprised you haven't slapped more tape on my mouth like the others."

"Now why would I need that?"

Claire was quiet for a moment. Something cold and slimy churned in her gut; something she felt like she should've recognized earlier. After the next hard breath, she spewed the first few stanzas of the exorcism rite as fast as she could, but the boy didn't so much as twitch. Instead, he just smiled down at her. Claire didn't even bother to finish, only let her voice die off in a frustrated silence.

Her lips pressed in a thin line. The kid obviously wasn't a demon, he wasn't one of the braindead minions either. There weren't many possibilities left, and none of them provided any relief.

He laughed, sweet, boyish, and completely out of sync with the situation. "See, Claire, I am special. I was created for a purpose. And you're just cattle." He picked up the water bottle again but didn't bring it too her mouth. He turned it over, squeezing cold water across her chest and watching with disinterest as she sucked in a shaken breath. "You had gone a little further from the herd than we like, but we got you back all the same."

Claire's hands had curled into fists a long while back. She only noticed it when they tried to tighten against a stiff soreness that only added to the unpleasant cold. Slowly but surely, the water had been seeping the heat out of her; now the rest of it leached into her wet shirt, and she started to tremble.

"So am I supposed to be part of the feed-lot or what?" she pressed on, despite how much effort it was starting to take to keep up the sardonic conversation.

Setting the bottle down, he ran a hand over her wet breast, his eyes watching her face as her jaw set like stone. "Breeding program. Not with me, 'course," he said, his mouth quirking. His fingers tweaked her nipple. "No matter how nice the packaging, you don't fuck a cow."

Claire immediately closed her eyes tight, trying to block the involuntary flood of images that came with the realization; images of Ben with whitened eyes and the voice that wasn't his. She thrashed once, hard, against the straps that held her still. The effort shot sparks of pain through each muscle.

A slap came hard across her face, and she opened her eyes and went rigid.

"That's a bad habit," the boy said, just as lazy and conversation as before, though he leaned over her closer now. "You're not leaving, unless we want you to. Go ahead and say it. 'I can't leave.'"

She showed him her teeth, gnashed in challenge and growing frustration. "What are you, a Torturer in Training?" she hissed in insult, ignoring his command. There was no doubt in her mind getting out of this place would be next to impossible, but she wasn't going through Hell just to come out the other side empty handed. "How'bout you send Daddy in-show you how it's done."

That same boyish laugh. "You're hardly my first." He slapped her again. "This is the last time I ask nicely, though. Say it." Claire answered by spitting in his face.

Blinking once, the boy wiped his cheek. Then he heaved a sigh. "There are so many of you I have to get to today, so I'll just leave you something to think about." Without a pause, he grabbed her forefinger and broke it.

The pain was delayed a half second, but hit after the wave of shock; the blood drained from Claire's face an instant before her eyes screwed shut and a mangled scream cut through her teeth. Suddenly there wasn't much thought left for the drops of water seeping into her hair.

Giving her one last smile, the boy was gone and the light went out.

---

The time had long passed since Claire answered every question or demand with an insolent attempt to break free or sarcastic jab. After the first two hours, it'd boiled down to a matter of pride, which had flared as hot as the piece of hard wire that'd already shredded the back of her shirt and skin beneath it. When the black-haired kid reddened the end of it with a blow torch-that's when Claire stopped speaking all together. Of course, she still made noise.

Unfortunately, that wasn't satisfactory either.

All sensation now blended into a indiscriminate roar of pain. The barbed wire that held her wrists wide apart snagged into her skin every time she jerked, spilling a blood and sweat mix that ran sick trails down the length of her body. No one cut, bruise, or burn distinguished itself from any of the others at this point-not until each time he delivered a fresh one. Claire was still panting from the last strike which cut across the less-abused area of her hip and around to the front of her thigh, taking bits of dirty denim and skin with it. There was a long pause, waiting for the next blow, but instead a hand twisted in her hair, yanking her head back.

"How's my girl doing? You gonna be good for me?" he said, running a hand down her battered side. The bare light bulb above sliced through her closed eyelids, sending little spikes into her brain that rivaled the salt-hot touch he tried to flinch away from. But besides the shaken yelp that parted her lips, Claire still said nothing.

He hummed. "At least you learned it's better if pets stay quiet," he said, sliding a thumbnail along one of the deeper cuts.

Behind her closed eyes, all Claire could suddenly see were sparks of red. On the outside, every muscle shook with agony; the wire restraints tummed and scraped metal in harmony with her garbled scream. But something had started to switch over inside. She felt the pain, but her own voice sounded somehow distant, as if she were hearing it through water.

With no clue of how long she'd been there, with no more than a half hour of sleep at a time, her body was boiling over with weakness, stress, and pain. She tried concentrating on answering him, but it'd gotten to the point where all she wanted was for it to stop. She wanted the creeping numbness that slowly worked itself through her veins to be shock, even if Death came on its heels. As her torturer's thumb dug deeper, something inside her screamed for the Dark; but it was answered by an echo of a woman's voice saying have faith have faith have faith.

Fresh, hot tears spilled from her closed eyes as she uttered that phrase aloud, gritty and torn.

For the first time, the boy's expression twisted from its usual serenity. He swung hard, punching Claire across the face. Her head snapped to the side, galaxies exploding in her vision. There was a moment or two where she instinctively tried to keep her weight off the wire in her wrists, but the blow had turned the volume of the world down to next to nothing. She remembered the taste of blood and the hazy sight of the sadistic teenager's anger, then an extra bite in her tendons when she went slack before everything went dark.

"Claire?"

Claire thought she opened her eyes, but it was still mostly dark. A small point of blue light seeped through the black, slowly illuminating the features of the room around her. Not the cement cage she had been in, but there was the soft lines of a bed spread, a small desk and chair in the corner; the faint light was being given off by a twenty gallon aquarium with three gauzy goldfish. They were named Huey, Dewy, and Lewie. It was her old bedroom.

"Oh, baby, I'm so sorry."

Turning her head in the direction of the door, Claire's eyes fell on the shape of her father. His expression was pained and sad. She felt the breath leave her lungs and hang in the air as a heavy silence. It was so hard to look at him, but the Devil himself couldn't get her to look away.

It was when she caught a glimpse of movement in the mirror behind him that the moment caught up to her, and Claire realized why she no longer felt starving, weak, or bleeding. A sight she hadn't seen as long as it'd been with her father stared back at her; the gangly thirteen year old girl with wheat colored hair and eyes too big for her face-but when she looked away from the reflection and down at her own hands on her lap, they were still mangled and streaked with blood that soaked from her wrists-same with the pieces of hair that fell into her vision.

Claire stared at the mess that was her own body, hanging in silence until a sob bubbled up from her throat. She looked back up at him, her face twisted and pleading. Jimmy moved into the bedroom immediately, sitting on the bed and pulling her into his lap.

"I'm so proud of you, Claire. You've been so strong."

She wasted no time in burying her face in his shoulder, clinging to his shirt with her broken hands. Every hard sob should've sent waves of pain through every bit of her, but she felt nothing besides her father's warmth and the weight of his arms around her shoulders. In a matter of heartbeats, Claire just collapsed on herself.

"Don't make me go back," she begged, crying into his shirt. "Please, Daddy-I can't do this..."

His hand stroked through her hair, lips brushing against her temple as he rocked her. "If I could stop it all, honey, I would," he murmured. "You were supposed to be safe. This was never supposed to happen."

She just continued to curl against him and into herself, her breaths hitching in uneven gasps. "Tell me what to do. How do get through this? They're just gonna kill me-"

"No," Jimmy hummed out. "They won't. There's too few Vessels in the world. They'll keep you alive, but they won't stop until they've broken you." He pulled back, looking into her face. "But they won't succeed. The boys're coming for you."

Claire stared back into her father's deep blue eyes; warm as they were always honest. A wave of something she couldn't define swept through her, starting at the heart. "They're alive?" she breathed, her eyes wide. Through the systematic breaking down of her body and spirit, the dregs of her faith had centered on simple survival-to make it to the finish line Kadiel had given her. Worrying about Ben and Jesse's fate after she was taken had been too difficult to bare. Jimmy swept her hair out of her face, his thumb tracing a trail along the contour of her cheek.

"But the moment they arrive, you have to run, baby. Run for your life. Promise me."

She searched his face for details behind the instruction, but the seriousness in the simple words was clear enough. More tears fell from her eyes, streaking the dried blood and caked grime beneath Jimmy's fingertips. Her lips pressed into a hard line, folded between her teeth, but she nodded.

"Stay with me," she half-sobbed, her voice tightening. She had no idea how long she had this temporary escape for, but the thought of waking up alone in that Hell terrified Claire more than the notion of dying there. "Please don't leave me..."

"I've always been with you," he whispered, kissing her forehead. Claire's eyes closed; another rush of internal strength flushed through her. It felt like a long drink of cold water.

His arms circled her a bit tighter, and more whispered words moved against her temple. His voice was like dark velvet, wrapping it's perfect affection and love around her battered psyche. The relief brought more tears to her eyes. "Hail Mary, full of Grace-" Claire's lips followed suit on her next breath, without hesitation. The faded blues of her old room dissolved back into the cold yellow light of the cement hotel. Her nerve endings all lit with various levels of fiery pain, but she didn't scream; only continued to whisper: "-blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus..."

A hand came under her chin, tilting it up. "Look at me," the boy said, almost gently. Her reverent, almost chant-like whispering paused just long enough for their eyes to meet. Claire's breath caught tightly in her throat, then continued, still holding his gaze.

"-pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death..."

The boy's expression tightened, but he kept his tone down, just loud enough to be heard over her. "Your God is gone. He doesn't care about you any more; He has left your world. You're speaking to dead air."

Claire paused, searching his face in a way she hadn't done before, not in their entire horrific time together. The building crescendo of her pain made her quiver, and made her eyes sharp, but there was something else behind them now, something that complimented the fragmented smile that cut across her face.

"Then why do you look scared?"

He smiled. "Because that's what you want to see. Your brain is so desperate not to feel helpless that you're starting to invent things to hope for." He leaned in close, his grip tight on her jaw to hold her fast. "But there is no hope. If you're going to pray, start praying to me. Then you might survive."

She felt his every movement, every breath in that grip, shooting sparks of pain down her spine, but her jaw set tight to resist it. Her breath hissed through gnashed teeth and lips that peeled rebelliously back.

"The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death-"

Something passed over the boy's eyes but he stepped away, turning his back on her. He turned the light out as he left, the door clicking shut and leaving her in darkness. Claire took a moment to acclimate to the void, listening to her own breaths. Then, still hanging in her own bloodied skin and clothes, continued to pray.

---

"There's a little hotel on the edge I want to work out of," Ben was saying into the phone as they drove. Driving on the main highways all but guaranteed a cop would pull them over, so they were following a back road perpendicular to the highway. Unfortunately, there were a lot more bends and hills. "Just outside of town, called the Hot Lake Hotel? It's remote enough that we won't be followed back. We'll meet you there."

"Just don't do anything stupid, Shaggy," Kat's tinny voice replied on the other end. "Wait for back-up. There's no telling how many other demons'll be there."

Got all the back-up I need, Ben thought, casting a quick sideways look at Jesse in the passenger's seat. "Yes, ma'am. Seeya soon." He ended the call and immediately started ringing up Lucas.

"Any news?" Lucas answered.

"We got a location. We're gonna need a few more eyes though, if they can be spared," Ben said. "How many we got in eastern Oregon?"

"Three that I know of. Maybe another half dozen if you include all of Oregon and southern Washington. What's the town?"

"La Grande," Ben answered, his eyes glancing at the map and then the digital clock on the radio faceplate. "We're about eighteen hours out. If we push through the night, we'll be there by two tomorrow."

"Alright. Any idea where in town? I can definitely have other hunters there. Hell, I'll be there.

Once again, Ben was reminded of his mistake not to drill the demon a little harder. "Wasn't able to get specifics."

"We'll get there and start looking then. Call you if we find anything likely." There was a pause before Lucas said, "That's a helluva lot of trouble for the demon to go to for Claire."

Ben looked sideways over at Jesse again, his whole face focused on driving, and felt a twist in his chest. How much did he dare to tell Lucas about what was going on? Maybe he'd know a few more tricks they weren't themselves aware of.

"There's a bigger story to it that I promise I'll tell ya once all this shit calms down," he said, opting for the compromise. "I wish it was just as simple as that, but when is anything simple with us, right?"

There was a pause, and then the way Lucas spoke, it was clear he was careful picking his words. "Tell me if I'm wrong, but has it got something to do with Jesse?"

"It has to do with all of us," Ben answered, swallowing down his defensive tone. "We've all got a part in it."

Another pause. "Alright. I'll see you when you get to La Grande. Call me if you need anything. And you be careful, alright?"

"I'm always careful, Luke," Ben replied, trying to inject a little humor into his voice before ending the call.

"There are other hunters coming, aren't there?" Jesse said quietly, looking at him.

"We need all the eyes we can get, Jess," Ben answered. "Even with a small town like that."

"I know," Jesse said, fiddling with the air vent. "Anyone and anything we can get to help is fine. Was just asking."

Ben leaned back in the seat, resisting the urge to curl into himself. He hadn't meant to snap, but every time he closed his eyes he couldn't help but remember the vessels from the camp in Maine. Had they already started deconstructing Claire to fit their mold? She's stronger than that, he told himself. She'll survive. It'll be okay. Believe in her. Ben turned his eyes out the window, bringing one hand up to twist the heel of it into each of his eyes.

---

It'd been hours-or at least, that's what it felt like, since the light went out. Maybe it'd only been one hour. Maybe it'd been fifteen minutes. Claire hadn't been able to follow the time in a long, long while, and she'd stopped whispering the prayers of her childhood aloud when her mouth became too dry to speak.

The pitch black had eventually faded by the faint slit of light that still managed to peek through the bottom of the closed door. She only knew about it by the ghost of a shadow her battered body cast on the opposite wall; her back facing the tiny glow. Claire looked at the dark shape in front of her, poised on her knees with her arms spread wide, held fast by what felt like rusted wire. She didn't dare move; the stillness she settled into kept the pain at a tolerable roar-but the weight of her own head had become too much for her neck to support.

Slowly, she dropped her chin toward her chest, eyes squeezing tight against the rods of hot pain the movement caused. Her mind zeroed in on the imagined shape of her father. She repeated his words without any sound to her voice: They're coming for you. They're coming.

The light suddenly snapped on, causing the bulb it emanated from to buzz loudly.

"Hello, little hunter," a warm, deep voice uttered. The door hadn't even opened or shut.

Ice water trickled down the length of Claire's spine as her stressed synapses very easily processed that voice. Caked blood in her palms cracked and flaked away when her hands closed into fists-except for the three random fingers that stood stiff and swollen from the rest. There was no use trying to temper her breathing in order to stay still.

"I would have been here sooner, but I've been very busy. This isn't an easy job, as I'm sure you're aware."

"You're wasting your time with me," she croaked out, finally opening her eyes. The light hurt like everything else, but so did her natural grimace. Still, her focus centered on the shifting shadow of a tall man. It came closer as he drew nearer.

"I don't think so," he admitted. "One way or another, I'll get what I want from you. The difference is whether or not you take it easily. The faster you submit to your fate, the quicker it'll all be over. We treat our mothers with much more care than you think, once they've been tamed."

Tamed. That word soured in Claire's stomach. Broken down. Brainwashed. Destroyed. She wanted to say every other more accurate description she could think of, but she knew she'd be wasting her breath. This wasn't a deranged soul with delusions of grandeur; there would be no changing his mind.

She hung there for a moment of silence, watching his shadow draw ever closer. Claire already knew who he was; she didn't need a visual. He was the Lion in the lion's den.

"And what is it you want from me?" she asked with poison in her weak voice. His hand took her chin and forced her head upward to look at him, his lips spread in a wide smile.

"You aren't like the others," he whispered. "You're stronger. I felt it, the moment I looked at you. I have different plans for you than the others."

Her jaw clenched in his hand; Claire swallowed hard, but held onto his gaze despite the cold throb of instinctive fear that came with it. Somehow, she managed to give him a deeply sarcastic sneer. "Goody. What might that be?"

He smiled right back at her, leaning in so close that their lips nearly touched when he spoke. "Why tell you when I could show you?"

The urge to wretch her face away was so strong it hurt, but just the precursor tension through her neck and flayed shoulders hurt a lot more. Claire gnashed her teeth together and tried to swallow her own rapid heartbeat. It continued to spike, despite her efforts.

"I don't do well with surprises," she gritted. Every gut instinct screamed that she didn't want to know either way, but then everything she'd survived to that point would be in vain. She had to follow this to the end. Nothing could be missed.

The demon stroked her face with a smile before forcefully letting go, which caused Claire to immediately hold her breath and bite back another shot of pain.

"I'll see you in a few hours, little hunter. Isaac will be with you in a moment to prepare you."

"Prepare me for what," Claire demanded, unable to keep the twist of desperation completely out of her voice. She quickly tried to cover it. "I think he's tenderized me enough."

The demon's smile widened as he moved through the door without answering. It echoed shut with painful finality behind him. Claire followed the sound of his footsteps as they faded in the distance, and were replaced by her own breaths. They were deepening involuntarily as the vice around her stomach tightened. A new set of tears threatened to burn her eyes. Only by extreme effort was she able to grapple them under control. It was getting harder and harder.

It was hard to tell if it was minutes or hours later that the door opened and the boy, Isaac, came in to the sound of squeaking wheels. As he moved around to Claire she saw he had one of the the braindead minions with her, pushing a small cart. The top was covered.

"Congratulations, Claire," Isaac said, his smile easy. "You have been approved to have your body cleansed of imperfections." She watched him, then the cart from behind her hair, her vision still hazy from the light. Doubtful whatever lay under the cover was antibiotics or a tetnus shot. Claire's stomach slowly twisted, bottoming out.

"What 'imperfections'."

Isaac's touch was almost gentle as he circled a spot on her forearm. "The blood has done fairly well covering it up, but I'm afraid the tattoo goes too deep. It must be removed for you to suit our needs."

He turned around, the other man lifting the lid off the tray. Isaac picked up a scalpel, and for the first time since arriving in that Hell Hole, Claire was truly terrified.

"NO-!" Eyes wide, she jerked against the wires again and again, the pain was lost in the flood of horror. Where the strength came from, she had no idea, but a animalistic part of her was ready to tear her own hands off to get away. "Don't you touch me!"

"Now, Claire, there's no reason to keep you pretty. And if you keep this up, I'll just have to cut off more than I need to." He ghosted the scalpel along her thigh. "And we don't want me hitting something important, like an artery."

Two large hands clamped down on Claire's shoulders from behind; the silent man pressed in and held her still, sending bolts of lightning through every jagged slice and welt that crossed her back. A growled scream cut through Claire's teeth, her eyes screwed shut.

"This is an honor for you, Claire," Isaac said as he made the first, careful slice. "Someday you will realize that."

Shuddering like a leaf from head to toe, Claire's mind screamed in desperate protest. Her heartbeat matched the furious pace her breaths had taken on, punctuated by more gritty shouts of pain. Hot trails of crimson rolled from the now open wounds at her wrists, mixing with the lines that dripped from Issac's work on the anti-possession tattoo, and Claire could no longer hold back the tears of terror and rage that streaked down her face.

"You're doing so well, Claire," Isaac soothed, as though to a child with a scraped knee. "There, see? All finished. Now Bryce will patch you up. Can't have you dying on us. That would just be a waste of time and energy."

As if on cue, the large hands on her shoulders suddenly let up, leaving her limp and panting, her head hanging heavy. Blood and tears dropped to the floor in Bryce's shadow as he moved around her, pushing a sterile pad and gauze on the raw patch of missing skin. Every fiber of her being was steeped in pain, and now the clarity of the Demon's words pulsed through her veins like acid.

They're coming for you. They're coming. Just hold on.

Whether it was Kadiel's voice, her father's, or her own didn't matter. The thought was distant, but it was there. It was her only scrap of hope-that, and the thought that came with it.

"Before I leave this place," she muttered, her voice tight and shaking, just before Issac could leave. "I will kill you."

Isaac gave her cheek a pat. "Good thing you're never leaving then."

With quiet steps and a squeaky wheel, they left her alone again in her pain.

---

Even as physically weak as Claire was, in the hours after Issac left with a crucial piece of her forearm, her consciousness refused to yield. In the dark, she shivered and bled, whispering prayers that provided less and less comfort as the time went on. More than once, she called to Kadiel, and received no answer, each time remembering the angel's words; the place is barred, you must get away.

But the wires around her wrists felt like they were part of her actual bone structure at that point. Even her broken fingers contained no feeling from the lack of blood. Every breath cracked the dried black crust on the shreds of her shirt and reopened another wound somewhere. She wouldn't have been able to stand, even if she were somehow able to get herself untangled.

Claire's head hung, her eyes closed and burning like the rest of her. The last hour had gone by with memories of Ben and Jesse, no longer focused on when they would arrive and this Hell would end. Only their smiling faces; the sound of Ben's laugh when he's slightly drunk, and Jesse's tendency to shriek like a girl when tickled.

"I'm so sorry," she mumbled tightly into the dark, slowly resigning to the knot in her throat. "I love you."

There was the sound of rushing wind from somewhere distant, but it became louder as it approached. The little light that snuck in from the crack underneath the door flickered out as the sound reached tornado decibels and then Claire felt it: the rush of putrid black smoke, shoving its way past her throat and claiming her altogether. Her eyes and head rolled back as darkness started to worm its way through her mind, wrapping around her soul like a choking vine.

Get out get out get out Jesus help me God please get the fuck out! Claire mentally thrashed and kicked as the demon pressed her into a cage in her own consciousness. There was a sensation not too unlike laughter, and for the briefest moment Claire heard could hear it - in her own voice. The demon dug in deep and invasively, but just as quickly as it joined with her it was gone.

It left her limp and shuddering, like she'd been hit and rolled by a train. The sheer violation of it, the deep, fiery malice left its impression on her heart that she couldn't shake, no matter how much she tried. Between their shaken counterparts, Claire sucked in a hard, painful breath, then let it loose as a guttural, anguished scream.

"Temper, temper," a rumbling, familiar male voice injected. "I was only in you for a minute; get your panties out of a bunch. Considering what you've been under lately, you should be glad it was me and not Isaac coming in to prod you a bit more."

Slowly, Claire opened her eyes, lifting them toward the chillingly recognizable timbre. Even in the near-darkness, it was easy to find the dark brown eyes of the man who had helped un-gag her the moment she'd finally been released into the processing cell: David. However, that's where the similarities ended. What stood in front of her was not David.

"It really is a bit sad, what must be done for the breeding process. At least when we're riding you, you're not experiencing the pain and shit all of it all the time. Boss likes you. He'll make sure his mate rides you gently and keeps you comfortable."

Is that supposed to make me feel better? Claire stared at the demon, not even bothering to hide that thought from her eyes or temper her breathing.

"Who are you," she demanded, strong as she could make her voice. "Why just jump in and out like that-or was that just for shits and giggles?"

"Oh, I'm not the one he's chosen for the job," David replied, flashing her a smile. "I'm just the physician, if you will. Checking to make sure you're ready. Unfortunately, it looks like we've got a couple days yet, assuming your stress hasn't slowed your clocks down." He rocked back on his heels. "Well, I better get to reporting back. This was just a temporary body, too. All the locals in the house have been taken, and boss wants this one on breeding duty."

Claire swallowed thickly, processing each separate bit of ominous information. Her heart hurt as much as the rest of her, and it went out to poor David. Couple days. Still got a couple days. Dropping her chin back to her chest, Claire said nothing else. Maybe she was reaching for any scrap of hope, but that 'couple days' felt like a small window.

Hurry, guys, she thought desperately in her head. Her eyes closed as she started to weep Please hurry.

---

Lucas had called them when they were still a few hours out. They'd found a place swarming with demons; the Hot Lake Hotel. It was going to be a tricky thing, especially since so far only Kat and three other hunters had been able to join them. They were hunkered in a hotel in La Grande. When Jesse and Ben arrived, they kept the greetings short. The three other hunters were a family, the Mathers. Ellis was tall, blond, and weathered and didn't seem a man of many words. Sarah was red-haired and freckled with eyes always crinkled in a smile. Their daughter Rebecca was blond and probably a few years younger than Jesse, though she seemed pretty sure of herself.

Convening in Lucas' room, he quickly brought Ben over to a map pinned on the wall. "Hot Lake isn't too far away, and observation is pretty easy," he said. "It wasn't too hard finding the blueprints online. The only trouble will be deciding where they might have Claire. How...important do you think they're treating her?"

"They'd want her in isolation," Ben said, feeling a clench in his chest as he tried not to focus on the details. "And with enough obstacles in the way that if she did get out, she'd be easy to stop."

"So either up high or as low as they can," Sarah chimed in from her lean against the far wall. Rebecca nodded absently, looking down at the phone in her hand; she was texting her father, who had just checked in from his stake of the place.

"Doubt they put her in a penthouse," the younger woman added.

Jesse's expression was hard as he looked over the map. "Can I get a look at the blueprints?"

Lucas glanced at him, then at Ben. "Sure. Haven't had a chance to hit a printer, but we can bring them up on my laptop." He opened it up on the dining table.

Ben knew without asking what Jesse was already considering, and felt a rush of overwhelming anxiety. To counter it, he tried to fixate on the night before, when Jesse had woken up from his nightmare and clung to him so desperately. He isn't leaving. He wants to stay. He won't leave without me.

"Did you see any other civilians?" Ben asked Luke.

"The place is boarded up pretty tight, so no luck seeing in. But there were some men walking around," Lucas said, pointing to the side of his head. "Ears looked burned, like you told me about. This looks like the same kind of operation you came across before."

Both Sarah and her daughter pulled the same expression; brows knitted, their lips tugged down at the corners. They were both looking at Ben. Sarah spoke first. "What's this, now?"

"The demons found religion or something," Ben answered, carefully dodging the question. "We don't know all the details yet-"

The door to the hotel opened and closed before he had a chance to continue, and in came Kat, looking drawn and exhausted but very pissed off.

"Please tell me there's coffee. I haven't had any in two hours, and I'm ready to kill something."

"Always got a fresh pot for you, Kat," Lucas said with a small smile, nodding toward the kitchenette. Sarah and Rebecca glanced briefly at the other woman, a spark of subtle recognition in their gazes before they turned back to Lucas, veering back on topic.

"Big gathering like this ain't a pool-party. If you fellas got an idea about what's going on, it be nice to know." Rebecca injected, then glanced back down at her phone.

Kat returned within moments, drinking generously from a travel mug and looking pointedly at Jesse and Ben. Ben found himself torn on what exactly to say; he hadn't prepared himself for a presentation.

"You ever dealt with angels before?"

"Angels?" Sarah asked before she could stop herself. She sent a look toward her daughter, who's expression was much less cynical. They both looked back to Ben, the older huntress continuing: "As in 'Army-of-Heaven-Let-There-Be-Light' angels?"

"As in 'rain-the-wrath-of-God-upon-you' angels," Jesse said, not looking up from the laptop.

"They possess people, too. Different circumstances and much more willing hosts, but they exist. Thing is, their hosts come from very specific bloodlines, and they're the only ones that can be ridden. The demons want them for something. For all I know, it's their version of Comic-Con and these hosts are their costumes. They're out to fuck the world up; what else is new?" It wasn't the whole truth and Ben knew Lucas might be roused to speak up about it, but he hoped he wouldn't. There was only so much he felt comfortable sharing with strangers, for all that they were willing to help them out in a pinch.

"Well, fuck-" Rebecca's brows arched in that 'learn something new every day' fashion. "So what-your girl's one'a those 'bloodlines'?" Sarah looked increasingly uncomfortable.

"Why else would she have been taken?" Kat interjected before Ben had a chance to answer. Her voice was a lot more agitated, and Ben had a pretty good idea why. "If you don't want in on this, you can turn back at the door, but there'll be other people in there. Y'think y'can walk away from people dyin' on your doorstep, kiddo?"

Rebecca's jaw tightened and her lips parted to shoot a retort, but Sarah beat her to it. "We came for a reason, but no one's goin' anywhere blind."

"They're demons, Sarah," Kat answered flatly. "We all know the drill."

"There..." Lucas glanced quickly at Ben. "There are probably more than just demons in there, though."

It took all of Ben's energy not to punch Lucas in the face, even after all the guy had done for them over the past few weeks. Feeling the eyes turn back on him again, Ben said, "It's possible they're trying to summon a critter. We've been working on researching what, but there's next to no lore on them. If it doesn't beg for mercy and it doesn't flinch away from an exorcism, kill it."

Sarah and Rebecca's faces reflected their obvious skepticism; the younger started furiously typing something on her phone.

"Do we even know how it can be killed, Shaggy?" Kat countered, her voice taking on a harder edge. Ben had to practice extreme self-control to keep from shouting at her.

"If it were that easy, Kat, why would I have called for help?"

"Look," Jesse said, turning around and sitting back against the table. "We know there are demons in there. We know there are freaky mindfucked minions in there. We think there might be something else in there, something bad and strong but that should be at least affected by planting bullets in its torso. If you want to back out, fine. We got this."

Kat remained silent, though the ferocity in her body language had dimmed significantly at Ben's words. Sarah's copper brows pushed up toward her hairline. "Once again-we're here because we want to help, but since asking specifics is twisting some panties, how'bout you two tell us how you wanna run this show. I don't mind followin' instructions, but you can't blame us for asking."

"That's what we have to figure out," Jesse said, eyes falling on Ben. "Outside for a bit?"

Ben rolled his lower lip between his teeth but nodded, waiting for Jesse to stand and following him out through the hotel door. Jesse walked a couple doors down before stopping.

"I can get in there, right now," he said, watching Ben.

"I knew you were gonna say that," Ben breathed, his anxiety once again skyrocketing.

"It would just be a scouting trip, I swear," Jesse said, laying a hand on Ben's arm. "I'd get in there, see what we're up against, where they're keeping Claire, if she's there, and then I get out. Like the lady said, we don't want to go in blind."

"And you think nobody's gonna notice that you suddenly know where everything and everyone is?" Ben pointed out, his voice strained. "If Luke were any more obvious about his lack of trust in you, he'd be a neon sign."

"I don't give a fuck if he trusts me, I want Claire back," Jesse snapped. "That's the important thing here, right?"

Ben put both his hands on Jesse's shoulders and met his gaze, his expression deeply serious. "I don't want anyone hunting you, Jess. I want Claire back, too, but I don't wanna risk anything happening to you."

"Look, I don't need to tell them shit. I go in there, figure it out, then you bring it to them like a plan, not like you actually know. And if there's a problem, I'll scrub a few memories and we're good."

"Jess-" Ben started, finally allowing some fear into his voice.

"Let me do this. Please," he said, grabbing Ben's arm. "I'll do it tonight, it'll be really quick, and then we can save Claire and fuck those demons good. Just let me do this."

Ben let out a shuddering breath and dropped his gaze, nodding. Every single instinct inside him screamed in protest, but he understood Jesse's reasons. He couldn't be possessed, for all that they knew; he wouldn't get hurt in the crossfire.

"If something happens to you-" Ben croaked out.

Cupping his face, Jesse cut him off with a kiss. Ben all but crushed himself against him, arms wrapping tightly around his waist and shoulders. When he finally pulled back, Jesse's lips brushed against Ben's. "I'll be fine. I'm a big boy."

"I know," Ben rasped, feeling a tremble starting in the marrow of his bones. "I just- I can't lose you both. I can't."

"You're not losing anybody," Jesse said, pulling back. "Now cowboy up. You have to be all macho and man-with-a-plan."

Ben gave a wet laugh and rubbed painfully at his eyes, but nodded. Steeling his shoulders, he lead the way back into the hotel room.

---

If there was one thing Jesse had learned, it was that security was always generally focused on keeping people out. Once you were in, it might as well be your own house. Which meant he had a distinct advantage. He came up in the basement; that's where they had figured Claire might be, so it was probably the best place to start. The place was quiet, except for a high, far off noise he couldn't quite place. The halls were dim and he walked carefully along. Just as he was about to turn a corner, a man beat him to it.

"Stop. Don't make a sound," Jesse ordered. The man instantly complied, his eyes going wide. He looked to be in his thirties, but Jesse knew by the twist in his stomach that he was much older. "Where is Claire Novak?"

The demon looked confused, but answered in a gravelly voice. "Storage room five."

Jesse rolled his eyes. "How do I get there?"

"Down the sub-basement stairs, second door on the right."

"Great, thanks. Now go to Hell." No sooner had the words left his lips that the man''s head rolled back, the thick black smoke spilling out of his mouth coiled round and shot down a nearby drain. Its host collapsed where he stood, gasping wide-eyed and obviously terrified.

Jesse felt only a little guilty at being disappointed the host was still alive. "Calm down and stay here. And don't make a sound," he ordered. "I'll be back for you."

Of course, he might be back for him the next day, but there wasn't much Jesse could do to help him now. He should actually leave right now, since he knew where Claire was. But he had to see her. He couldn't come this far and not make sure.

Following the directions into a sub-basement alight with bare bulbs, Jesse listened at the door a moment before opening it and peering cautiously in. It was too dark. Throwing caution to the wind, he flicked the lightswitch. His gaze immediately fell on a head of long, blond hair.

"Claire," he breathed, quickly stepping in and closing the door. "Claire, it's Jesse, I've-"

He froze when he saw her face. It was Claire alright, but only just. It was hard to find an inch of her which wasn't covered in blood. Her clothes hung off of her in torn strips, dirty and matted as her hair. He felt his stomach surge as he reached out to gingerly touch her.

Besides the barely-noticeable rise and fall of her chest, she was quiet and limp as a dead animal supported by two suspended wires. Even when he touched her, there was a moment of no reaction-but two breaths later, Claire's eyes slowly, painfully opened. It took a while to focus, but the familiar solid frame of the body in front of her finally sunk in.

"...Jess" Claire stammered on the deepest breath she could muster. Please don't let me be dreaming.

Jesse's breath hitched. "It's me, baby. I found you." He wanted to touch her, hold her, but her body looked like one mass of pain. There was only one thing he could do. He grabbed the wires wrapped around her wrist and began untwisting them. "It's going to hurt, baby, but I'll get you down, I'll get you out of here."

It did hurt, a lot, but Claire simply didn't have the energy left to tense up or even flinch away. Her eyes closed, her breath hitching through split and bruised lips, but the new tears that dropped along her cheeks weren't from the pain. As much as her exhaustion would allow, elation washed over her like a tidal wave.

"I knew you were coming," she rasped. Most every part of her was nearly broken, but after almost wilting, her heart felt full and untouched.

He couldn't manage a smile at the words. She sounded and looked so mutilated that all he could feel was the boiling, poisonous heat rushing through his veins. He freed her from the last of the wire, gently easing her to the floor.

"What's broken?" he said, his own voice tight. "I'm going to carry you, but I want-"

[ wish at least they'd let me wash her she stinks like hell and then I'd get to rub peroxide and salt into the wounds it's been at least six hours since I heard a good blood curdling scream ]

The thought had started off distantly, but as it approached it became louder and the thrum of all the emotions tied in with the words washed over him. The nagging sensation in his mind was relentless, but then confusion and hope started pulsing into him.

[ wait what's that is that him oh god is it him master is here master is here where is he must find him must serve him - ]

The door opened and a teenager emerged, his eyes bright and wide as a grin split up his face.

"It's you," he gushed with uncharacteristic happiness. "It's really you."

The words were like being in a pool of adulation, but the hot anger at Jesse's core burned hotter. He was on his feet and in two strides had the boy by the neck, yanking him inside as he slammed the door shut. He pulled the boy over, shoving his face towards Claire.

"Did he do this to you?"

Isaac's eyes went wide with pain and confusion at his mistreatment, making a choked noise. [ master why are you doing this all I want is to be yours - ]

Claire's dulled eyes locked in Issac's sharply frightened gaze. Her expression barely changed on the surface, but there was a moment of solid reckoning.

"Tell him," she whispered to the boy.

Jesse yanked the boy back, pinning him against the wall but easing up enough on his throat so he could speak.

"She's a vessel. I was only doing as ordered," Isaac gasped out.

Gritting his teeth hard, Jesse pulled the boy forward only to slam him hard against the wall. The lights flickered as the air rushed out of boy's lungs. "Not by me," he snarled. "You were born to serve me, and I never told you to hurt her."

The boy's eyes glazed over with reverence. "I'll do anything you ask. Anything and everything-"

[ born to serve born to love born to be yours always yours everything anything follow you wherever you go ]

Jesse punched him hard across the face before tightening his grip on his throat again. The boy didn't even try to stop him.

"Jess-we have to go," Claire urged weakly. Her attempt to sit up barely made it past trying to move her arms, but the trickle of adrenaline was slowly putting life back in her limbs. It also reminded her of how crucial their escape was. "Before the rest come back."

His grip tightening a moment, Jesse let go with a snarl. "Don't make a fucking sound," he ordered, eyes hard on the boy's before he glanced down. He pulled a long knife from the boy's belt, placing it in his hand. "When we leave, slice open your stomach and pull out your intestines. And then sit here alone in the dark and think about how you failed me as you die."

Turning around, Jesse slid his hands under Claire's knees and behind her back, lifting her in one smooth step. He flicked off the light and left without so much as looking back. The boy remained silent as the door fell closed, but Jesse hardly took a step away before he heard the mental screams of anguish:

[ failed him failed him failed him failed him worthless useless sack of shit meant to die only born to serve him and failed him failed him - ]

Claire couldn't keep her eyes open for much longer than a few seconds at a time; the yellow lights rushing past, the momentum and sway of Jesse's body beneath her, every step he took jarred splinters of pain through her bones. She couldn't even cling to him due to the broken ones; her head simply lay limp on his shoulder.

"The others," she whispered into his shirt. "There are others they took."

"We'll come back for them," he said firmly. "First, I'm getting you out."

The basements were quiet as they went through, but when he came up on the first floor, it was obvious the cavalry had been notified.

The lobby was packed. People of all shapes and sizes, colors and ages stood in silent attention, all staring directly at Jesse and the unconscious woman in his arms. Some had the dull, lifeless gaze of the familiar human slaves. Others, their eyes were completely black.

[- him him it's him -]

[- serve him -]

[- love him -]

Jesse could feel the Nephilim among them, shifting closer, their eyes bright. Despite the adrenaline racing through him, he could pick out the beats of his heart, slowing, steady. Gently, he set Claire on the floor, giving her one last look before he stepped over her. She didn't move; she was barely breathing.

"I am your master. You were born to serve me," he said, his voice echoing in the high-ceilinged room. He pulled his gun and knife from his belt. "Forget all other orders. You protect me, you protect the girl. And you kill anyone and anything that's between us and the door."

The slaves started swarming forward as one, without instructions ever being given aloud. They'd barely taken four steps when they were knocked back as though from a blast wave. The source was a twelve-year-old girl, her black hair pulled back sharply from her temples into a high ponytail away from her face, hands outstretched in front of her as though she were holding back an invisible force. The other two - children, all of them, barely having hit puberty - rushed forward to Jesse, flanking him as the demons still standing balked.

"Insolent children!" one of the demons shrieked. "He will kill you where you stand!"

[ follow him wherever he goes -]

[ - follow him whatever he says born to serve -]

[- follow him follow him born to be his always his always -]

"You, guard her!" Jesse shouted at one of the boys before slicing through the throat of a man trying to rush him. "Demons, to Hell!"

As black smoke filled the room, he surged forward, shooting and slashing through every body he could find. They deserved it, they deserved to die. Look what they had done. Bodies collapsed at all sides as the two Nephilim not guarding Claire joined in the fray. They moved with surprising grace and agility, flashes of something silver in their hands glinting in the poor light as their opponents fell dead to the floor with their furious movement.

Jesse moved seamlessly with them, but the sheer numbers overwhelmed. When he pulled the trigger only to hear an empty click, two guards grabbed his arms, trying to get him pinned. He struggled with a snarl. Off, off, OFF! And suddenly the men went flying. He didn't stop, didn't question it, throwing down his empty gun as he stabbed another through the heart.

The numbers rabidly dwindled until only Jesse and the three children were left standing. His breath not even coming hard, Jesse's eyes surveyed the room before coming to rest on his allies. His servants. Or slaves. They were just as mindless as the men they had helped slaughter. Only difference was, they listened to him. When I'm here.

And they had power. He thought of the boy downstairs, what he had done to Claire, and how he hadn't even cared. These weren't people, they were sheep. And they were dangerous. He wasn't about to bring them with him, but he couldn't just leave them here. Not when Belial would be there to snatch them up again.

It's a kindness, really. Doing them a favor.

He walked up to the first boy, his shining, happy eyes focused unblinking on Jesse's face. With a steadying breath, Jesse rested a hand on the boy's head.

"You did well," he said softly. "Thank you."

Then he grabbed either side of the boy's head and snapped his neck. The other two children immediately dropped to their knees, as if to make it easier for him.

[- happily die for you -]

[- live to serve born to die anything you want master -]

Love and adoration radiated out of them like tidal waves, relentless and limitless. There wasn't even a flicker of fear or remorse.

Jesse's stomach roiled, and he hesitated, but he knew what was right. He snapped the girl's neck first, and then the boy nearer Claire. Just keep going. He didn't look back as he hefted Claire back into his arms before heading for the door, picking his way carefully on the blood-slicked floor.

"-have to run..." Claire's emaciated voice almost completely disappeared in her breath. Her eyes were barely open, catching dull light between her lashes.

"Shh," Jesse soothed as he tried to hold her and open the door. "It's okay, we're safe now."

Three bloody fingers twisted into his shirt. Reality was an explosion of painful light and color, nothing was solid except for the phrase that weakly rode her breath, and the thought on loop behind it; get away, get away as fast as you can. Claire had never been told exactly why, but as Jesse's feet crossed the hotel threshold, instincts buried too deep to define switched on.

"No-we have to run," she said, her timbre going gritty. "They're coming-"

Jesse upped his pace even as he frowned. "Who?"

"Angels," Claire rasped. "She's-as soon as... escape the Lion's Den, when you leave, we will bring it down."

It felt like Jesse's spine turned to cold steel. He gripped Claire tighter to him as he sped up into a run. Though he tried to be careful, every step jostled her, but he couldn't slow down. He couldn't let them find him.

Ducking into the woods around the hotel, he didn't so much as stumble in the dark undergrowth, his focus and footing steady as they ran.

Until it heaved underneath him. There was a vibration that built to a roar and he stumbled, rolling to stop from falling on Claire. He held her close as the whole world shook around them. Everywhere there was the sound of trees uprooting, several coming dangerously close to falling altogether. Not too far away from where they had fallen, a deep fissure split across the ground. The horizon seemed to glow through the trees like a miniature sunrise. Terror raced through him, but Jesse just held Claire tighter.

It seemed to go on for an eternity, but then everything just stopped. The air seemed to vibrate with silence. Jesse opened his eyes, looking down at Claire. She wasn't looking back.

"No! No, Claire, c'mon." He felt at her throat and found a pulse, but it didn't ease the panic. It didn't matter if angels were still around, he had to help her. "Ruth! Ruth, I need you right now!"

The blonde popped into existence mere inches away from him, eyes wild and wide.

[ Please don't be angry with me please don't be angry with me can't stand it when you're angry with me I'll do anything you ask anything just want you happy love you love you love you - ]

"Jess?"

"Help me!" Trying to sit up as he cradled Claire, his eyes were frantic. "Heal her, she's hurt bad!"

Ruth put her hands on Claire's face, eyes closing and head bowing. Just like with Ben's injuries back in the hospital, they seemed to shimmer before fading away entirely. Ruth gave an all-over shiver and pulled her hands away, giving them a hard flick off to the side and away from her.

[ hurts hurts hurts hurts hurts so much ]

Jesse's gaze flickered to Ruth just for a moment before back to Claire. He shifted her higher, her head cradled against his shoulder. He could see her chest move with each breath. "She's okay? She's okay now?"

"Yes," Ruth breathed. Then her head suddenly rose and her face paled as she took a sharp breath. Pure an unadulterated fear poured out of her and into Jesse.

[ RUN RUN RUN RUN RUN RUN THEY'RE HERE THEY'RE HERE ]

She didn't even explain herself before once again disappearing from sight.

Jesse's heart jumped immediately to double time and he hefted Claire back into his arms before taking off. He couldn't hear anything behind him, but that meant squat with angels. It seemed like ages before the steps in front of him sharply inclined and he broke free of the trees to stumble on asphalt. The road made easier going, and it wasn't like trees could hide them anyway, so he stuck to it.

Then a glow rose behind him. Giving a whimpered gasp, he chanced a look over his shoulder. Lights. Two lights. Headlights, idiot. Stopping short, he turned to face them. The car halted in front of them, and Jesse headed for the driver's door.

"Whoa, dude, you alright?" The driver looked a little younger than Jesse and had a surfboard strapped to the top of his car.

"We're fine," Jesse said, power behind his voice. "You're going to give us a ride to the Phoenix Inn. Help me with her."

"Right, yeah," the man said, quickly rushing forward to ease Claire into the backseat. Jesse got in with her, pulling his phone out once he was settled and the car was moving. He tried calling Ben, but it wouldn't go through. Jesse's stomach turned. He wanted to let Ben know they were okay, but he wasn't about to leave Claire unconscious. It would have to wait until they were at the hotel.

---

It was as though the world was coming to an end. Ben had never been in an earthquake before, and outside of an exhibit at a museum once when he was a kid and all the drills they'd been forced to participate in, he hadn't even known how to respond. Luckily Kat and Lucas were quite familiar, and he barely had time enough to throw his bag over his shoulder before they were barreling out of the shaking building as fast as their legs could carry them. He'd watched as a crack through the ceiling chased them all the way out the door, just in time for the building to start to collapse inward on itself.

Sarah hadn't made it. Ellis had to bodily hold Rebecca back from going in after her mother, but there was no way she could have survived that kind of impact. Car alarms were blaring everywhere; the few people who had gotten out of their own homes safely sobbed openly in the street. It was pure chaos, and Jesse and Claire were both gone. The cell networks were down in the area. Ben was completely helpless.

Amitiel, please, Ben prayed hands clasped hard and head bowed as Kat openly cursed up and down about her car having gotten destroyed by a nearby fallen light post. Help me. Tell me what to do.

"Ben!" The voice was a ways away, but it sure did carry, even over all the noise. "Ben! Where are you?"

Ben would have heard that voice even if he were deaf, and he was pretty sure Jesse's panic was fueling the volume, along with the added bonus of wanting to be heard. Relief flooded him.

"JESS!"

"Ben!" There, shoving past an ambulance, came Jesse. Claire lay in his arms and he had tears on his cheeks. He was covered in blood. Panic shoved the relief right out of Ben.

No no no no no, no, no! Please!

"Oh god-"

"She's okay, she's fine, I got her," Jesse said quickly as he leaned against Ben. He wanted to hold him so much. "Fuck, what happened?"

"Claire!"

Kat came racing toward them, skin as white as a sheet at the sight of Jesse.

"She's unconscious, don't crowd her!" Ben shouted immediately, but Kat looked very near ready to murder him just at his tone.

"Give her to me!" she commanded with all the force in her voice of a mother bear roaring at an opponent.

Jesse automatically stepped back, his eyes narrowing and arms tightening around Claire. It didn't matter that his arms ached, he wasn't letting her go.

"Kat-" Ben started.

"You idiots are the ones who got her in this mess!" Kat hollered over him. "She's never come this close to being dead before in all the years I've known her, and so help me God, if you killed her, I will end you! Now give her to me! I need to take her to a hospital-!"

"She's fine! Leave us alone!" Jesse roared, but was interrupted by a hand twisting in his shirt.

Claire sucked in a breath like it was her first. The last thing imprinted solidly in her memory being flashes of the last few days; hellish nightmares, the evidence of which still matted her hair, caked on her skin, and hung heavy on the remains of her clothing-but the pain that had become familiar at that point was gone. Her eyes bolted open wide, sharp with animal panic until they focused on the first thing in their path: Jesse's face.

Terror and anger and relief all swirled into one, and Jesse didn't think twice before pressing his mouth to Claire's. Her immediate thought flashed behind her eyes as they closed-that she was dead. She'd died along the way and this was the first thing the afterlife had in store for her, but after a half second's thought, her senses started to return. She kissed him back, but gently put a bloodied hand on his cheek to separate them and put her feet on the ground.

"How-?" She was confused as all hell.

Ben felt like he'd been set adrift. Everything was so loud and confusing, and he had no idea what to feel anymore. Kat, under the influence of Jesse's powerful fury, had turned right around and stomped off to Lucas.

"It's okay," Jesse breathed. "I got you. You're safe. Nothing else matters."

Claire looked up at him as if he'd vanish into her dreamscape at any moment, then slowly began to process the chaos around her including - finally - Ben.

It was the sight of him that made it all real; something in her heart cracked and crumbled. Still clinging to Jess, she reached out for Ben and pulled them both into her with a hard, shuddering sob. Her touch seemed to bring Ben back to himself and his arm immediately circled around her, his whole body aching in empathy.

"I thought I'd never see you again-" Claire uttered tightly, though her grip on both of them was stronger than she knew it should have been.

Jesse felt his eyes well up and he gripped her tighter. "We'd always come for you, Claire. No matter what."

"We gotta get outta here," Ben breathed. "This place isn't safe. There'll be aftershocks soon and-"

Another body suddenly pushed through them, grabbing hold of Claire's shoulders; they were immediately removed by her body's hard twist and she shoved them away. Driven by instinct and deep, deep trauma, Claire's eyes were wide and wild, sharp as broken glass on Lucas. The next instant, she recognized him-her gaze softened, but only a degree. Lucas's apparent alarm, however, had been just as quickly quadrupled. "How? Fuck, Claire, you're safe," he breathed, eyes glued on her. "How did you get free?"

"I-I..." Claire looked every bit as stunned as the moment she woke up, her gaze darting from Lucas to the boys, then down at her own body, specifically at her hands. Her clothes looked like they'd come off of a piece of roadkill; shredded and saturated in her own dried blood. Her skin was coated and caked with it, just as it had been for however many days. But her fingers weren't broken anymore. Her back wasn't cut into ribbons that shifted and stretched every time she breathed. Her arm didn't feel like it had a gaping hole in the skin.

"...I don't know." I should be dead. I couldn't have survived. Claire found herself staring at the bloody bandage wrapped around her forearm, and immediately started to tear it off. Beneath was nothing but flawless, untouched skin. No surgically removed patch. No tattoo. A very real wave of fear replaced a lot of the blood in her face.

"Jess went out to scope the place out a bit," Ben said in a rush. "He must've found her escaping because of this crazy earthquake."

"It was angels," Jesse said quietly. His eyes focused about chest level. "They saved her. And everyone inside. They must've found a way through."

Lucas stared at him, then back at Claire, then down at the unbandaged skin. He reached out, gentler this time. "We need to get you to an ambulance."

"Angels healed her," Jesse practically snapped. "Everything's fine."

Ben put his hand on Jesse's arm and squeezed, trying to calm his own racing heart and equally pressing desire to leave.

"We'll handle it, Luke," he said. "This town hospital's already gonna be swamped with civilians. We'll make a point of hitting up a clinic on our way outta dodge, but we can't stay here. You'n Kat should get out too, while you can."

"I ain't goin' anywhere!" Kat shouted from a few feet away, having heard the whole conversation. She seemed physically repulsed from moving closer, but her body all but vibrated with obvious displeasure and frustration. "You know s'well as I do that this town's gonna be painted black any second, and somebody's gotta stay behind and clean up the damn mess! So get goin' already!"

Claire's eyes were having trouble taking in the level of carnage. The last thing she remembered clearly was looking on David's face, listening to a voice that wasn't his, spoken by a presence she could still feel like a disease. There were flashes of things since then, but they seemed to be fading like a distant dream. Kat's voice snapped her focus up to the older woman, locking onto her words.

"She's right," she hushed to Ben and Jesse, though her eye contact with Kat didn't break until a moment after. Suppressed terror sparked vividly in her eyes. "They'll be coming-we gotta go."

Jesse didn't need to be told twice. He turned, taking Claire by the arm, and headed for the car.

Ben staggered back just a bit, lip between his teeth as he fished the keys out of his pocket and looked back up at a dazed Lucas.

"I know it's crazy right now, man, but I promise I'll explain when things are calm," he said in a low voice. All the surrounding noises practically drowned out his words. "I'm sorry to leave all this crap in your lap. Be careful, yeah?"

Lucas's lips pressed in a firm line and there was doubt in his eyes, but he nodded. "Will do. And I'm going to hold you to that one."

"We're headin' to Kansas," he said. "I'll be sure to drop by your door after we're done." Giving Kat an apologetic look, he chased after Claire and Jesse.

---

Ben couldn't help feel exhausted after the insane four days they'd had, but there was no way he had any intention of stopping until they were far enough away. After changing out of her destroyed clothing and mopping what she could off her skin with a handful of wet-naps, it hadn't taken long for Claire to fall asleep, curled against Jesse in the back seat, his arms wrapped around her tightly. He drove with his foot all but embedded into the floor as he tried to put as much distance between them and La Grande as possible.

It had been six hours, but he wanted to put in at least four more before they made a pit stop. If it were up to him, he'd drive through the night. There was certainly urgency enough to move them. The radio played mutely in the background as they drove on through the darkness:

"...An estimated $8 billion worth of damage have been done to the streets and buildings in the neighboring towns. Reported death and missing are still on the rise, with the last recorded number in La Grande at 286 dead and over three thousand injured..."

Sarah had been among them. Ben hardly knew her, but guilt settled like a stone, heavy in his gut. If he hadn't phoned Lucas and demanded that he help, Sarah might have lived.

Everyone you've ever loved, everyone you've ever known, will burn.

"You know that amulet from Rockville?" he asked aloud, turning the volume down so he didn't have to speak loudly. His eyes lifted to the rearview, catching Jesse's reflection in it.

Jesse didn't look up from staring out the window, his hand gently running through Claire's hair. "Yeah?"

Something in his chest hitched and Ben swallowed. His eyes moved back on the road again and his hand turned the radio completely off. "It was my dad's."

Jesse frowned. "What? Why didn't you say?"

"Because I didn't know until I saw it." Ben let out a slow breath. "That's... why I went out, the way I did. It's like... it was like pulling the cork out of the dam. Everything came back to me."

"You mean the mindwipe? It was reversed?" Jesse's eyes locked on Ben's through the mirror, but the other man wouldn't meet his gaze.

"It was never a wipe," Ben muttered. "It was... more like a wall."

"But now it's gone? You can...remember everything that happened?" Is it bad? hung on Jesse's lips, but he couldn't quite say it aloud.

"Better than that," Ben said, a flicker of hope returning to his voice as he looked up into the mirror again. There was determination in his eyes. "I know how to find my dad."