The wonderful thing about being an Empress? Never apologizing. It has been months since the last update? We were cruising around the world with handsome young men peeling grapes by our side. However, since this is the climax of our story, it should have been posted long ago.
Chapter 35: Bad Day
Nancy woke alone, the sheets next to her cool to the touch. She pried her eyes open, her gaze scouring the room. Why was she alone? Her first thought was something had taken her mate, but Nu-Kua assured her they would have woken. Her gold shimmering eyes narrowed dangerously.
He left. He left without her.
An amazing, spectacular dinner. They had made sweet, sensual love until she had been too tired to keep her eyes open.
That bastard! He wasn't sure he would be coming back. It was their mate's way of saying goodbye.
Furious, Nancy and Nu-Kua roared their displeasure, the walls and ceiling shaking with their wrath. Racing footsteps confirmed their abandonment by by their mate. Human servants raced into the room, stopping short upon viewing Nancy's nakedness.
"Dress us," she ordered with a growl. "We are going out."
Several scurried to retrieve her discarded clothing while one dropped to bended knee. "Mistress," he said in a breathless voice, "we have been told you are to remain here until Master returns."
Her eyes flashed with fury. Insolence. This servant would never take another breath.
The apartment door splintered and burst open at his approach. Dean carefully stepped through the rubble. He had not sensed anyone alive inside, however it was probably worth a look. No telling what the demon bastards may have left behind.
He refrained from touching anything with his hands, preferring to kick things out of the way. Even moving demon-touched objects with his mind made him feel contaminated. There was nothing of interest here, except maybe a note on the floor.
The white slip of paper floated up to hover in front of his eyes. It was the ingredients to call a particularly nasty demon, Matheus.
Nasty dude, Dean thought, head tilting to one side as he studied the paper. Bitch should've left it in Hell. I doubt she knows to put it back when she's done with it either. But on the up side, she'd leave a pretty impressive body-count to pay that dude off.
He slid his shades on as he exited the nasty apartment. It had been contaminated. This building required cleansing.
Clear the building, he ordered all of the inhabitants although part of him wondered why. Fire.
Flames spread from his bootprints as he walked. The fire spread slowly at first, giving Dean plenty of time to walk outside. Other residents tumbled out of doorways clutching prized possessions and raced for the exits. Dean walked slowly, taking his time. This building once housed his enemy, those who sought to hurt his mate. For this affront it would pay.
By the time he stepped onto the sidewalk, fire streamed out the windows, climbing both up and down the building's exterior. Dean knew inside it burned in all the stairwells, creeping into each room to reduce the building to ashes. He amped up the heat as he shouldered his way through the crowd gathering. Some cried, some gawked, but none of it mattered to Dean. He had a demon to find. He was, after all, a demon hunter. Piece o' cake.
"Oh, Sammy," Meg breathed in Sam's ear. A cold chill raced down his arms and up his spine. "You poor dear. Big brother hasn't been very nice to you lately, now has he?" She trailed a fingernail up his neck.
He was in an abandoned warehouse tied to a metal chair, a good one, not one of those flimsy lawn chairs. Too bad, he could've broken out of that.
"I don't think you want to tangle with Dean right now," Sam protested. He had no chance of convincing her, of course, but it was worth a shot. "It really wouldn't be a good idea."
She laughed lightly and walked around him in slow circles. "You think I don't know, don't you?" She grinned brightly. "Is that what you were doing when we found you? Trying to figure out how to save Dean from the dragon?" A light-hearted cackle erupted and the noise hurt his ears.
Now Sam noticed the sigils painted on the concrete walls and worse, he recognized them. They were dragon-specific. Containment sigils. Powerful ones.
"You want to kill both of them," Sam breathed out. For some odd reason, using a demon to find Dean seemed like a really bad idea now. Maybe he should have listened to Bobby after all. Huh.
Meg's cell phone went off. Why would a demon need a cell phone? She pulled it out with a sly grin and wink. "Hello?"
Her grin broadened. "Perfect. That means he's probably on his way. Bring the others here. Now."
Black film covered her eyes when she looked at him. "He's com-ming," she said in a sing-song voice. "All we have to do is wait." She leaned into his face, flashing her borrowed cleavage at him. "Have any good ideas on how we can pass the time, Sammy?"
Sam rolled his eyes. Maybe all demons were insane.
Nancy/Nu-Kua grabbed one of the disposable servants with one hand and lifted him into the air. "We wish to leave." Her voice rumbled, she could feel his body vibrate with her anger.
The servant's head shook quickly. "Master ordered..." He gasped and choked as she tightened her grip.
"My mate is in danger," she growled and shook him. "We will leave."
Tossing him aside with no more concern than for a rag doll, Nancy/Nu-Kua, fully dressed, rushed for the exit. The entire building seemed to be enveloped by an energy shield designed specifically to keep her here. This was her mate's doing. She could scent him in the shield. Frustrated and distraught, they roared again and the building trembled with their rage.
Dean peered over his shades inside the dark bar. It was a demon gathering place. He could smell the rotting human flesh of the poor saps being possessed. Real shame how these careless demons just burned through humans like that.
He strolled through demon central, not spotting any unusual reactions. One dude had the nerve to scowl at him. His shoulders twitched and his eyes blazed red.
"You got somethin' to say?" Dean demanded, yanking on the dude's shoulder to spin him around.
The dude's eyes went pitch black and a sneer crossed his face. "Wurm," he muttered. "Go crawl back in the dirt where your kind belong." He tried to turn away, but Dean held tight.
"Oh, dude, I really wish you hadn't said that." Dean shrugged out of his tailored suit coat. He held it out behind him as if he expected a servant to come running up to hold it. No one did. Dean released it and the coat hovered in the air. "See, I'm kind of looking for someone, but she isn't here. And now, you pissed me off."
His fist was a blur when he struck out, snapping the demon's head to one side, bones snapping and popping from the blow. The demon turned again to look at him, its smile wide. "You should know better, wurm."
Dean grinned as he pressed his palm against the demon's chest. "I do." He burned a containment sigil into the possessed man's flesh. "Because now you're stuck, dude. If he dies, you die. Let's try it again."
Dean stepped back and dropped his hands down to his sides. Fire flickered from his fingertips and climbed up his arms. It twirled into flaming balls hovering over his palms.
"We like fire, remember?" Dean grinned broadly. "And I really don't like you."
The fireballs shot out from his hands to encase the stunned demon. His mouth opened and only a scream erupted, no black demon smoke. Thoroughly enjoying himself, Dean pushed out more fire until nothing was left but some fine ash and soot.
Dean glared at the demons standing around him. "Next?"
Meg dragged a chair through the sigils painted all over the floors to sit opposite Sam. "You're more fun from the other side, Sam. But that's all right. I don't mind chatting a little while we wait for your precious brother." She smiled brightly and his stomach turned. "You know, I remember when all you did was complain about him. And now you think you're going head-to-head with a dragon?"
She shook her head, her short hair barely shifting. "You're not that good, and you know it. I mean, you can't deal with me, can you?"
"BITCH!" a deep voice roared in the night.
"I think the real question is if you can deal," Sam pointed out.
"In here!" she sang out sweetly and she pulled a knife from her sleeve. "Sammy and I were just talking about you."
The wall beside the door crumpled into rubble and dust, taking a section of containment sigils with it. Sam wasn't sure if he should feel frightened or relieved. Dean, with glowing red eyes and his head cocked at an unnatural angle, stepped through.
"You dare," his voice was deep, deeper than it should have been, rough and raw, "target my mate?"
Meg grinned brightly, bouncing to her feet to stand behind Sam. "Oh, Dean. Did I make you angry?"
He walked forward until he reached the edge of a containment sigil. Meg laughed. "You didn't think I'd be unprepared, did you?"
Dean's eyes flared bright, neon red, then went to his normal green. With a sneer, he stepped over the line drawn on the floor. "You really thought that would work? Bitch?" His eyes flared red again.
"You shouldn't be able to do that," she said slowly.
Sam turned his head to see her backing away. "Dean?" he tried. "Dude, it's me."
"Yes, Samuel," the too-deep voice rumbled. "The demon bitch thought you would make good bait?" He chuckled darkly and Sam wondered if it was too late for his brother now. The ropes binding him to the chair fell away, seemingly of their own accord.
Dean glared at Meg, his hatred clear and evident. "You human demons think you're so smart. So powerful. My kind ruled the Earth when yours still swung from trees." Sam felt the ground beneath his feet fall away. He hovered in the air at least a foot off the ground. "Would you like to see how important your bait is?"
Fire flared from Dean's hands, traveling up his arms to encase his body in a blazing halo. His eyes went deep blood red and a lop-sided sneer slid on to his features. "You've always been such a pain in the ass, Samuel."
"S-Sam," he protested, wishing his feet were on solid ground. "It's Sammy!"
"It's Sammy!"
The word reverberated inside Dean's head, delving deep into his mind. He heard a loud crack, like an egg breaking only a thousand times louder. The black cube which hovered constantly in his mind-space was again a sphere. A cracked sphere.
"Dean!" the familiar voice rang out across the landscape again.
The day was bright and sunny, the sky a calm blue. Dean whipped his long bronze tail back and forth over the green grass and watched curiously as the crack widened. With a second thunderous crack, it split in two. All around him the bright day darkened as thick black clouds piled up, obliterating the sun. From the broken sphere bright flickering images, like a 35mm projector not working quite right, played on the screen of black clouds.
The images tore through him with the intensity of a searing hot scalpel, splitting him slowly down the center. He screamed in pain and horror. This could not happen! This was his world now!
Memories and thoughts shifted between the two halves, sorting themselves, drawn to the dividing personalities. When Dean opened his eyes he could see Draco again, stepping away from him and shaking that massive bronze head. Probably had the same bitch headache he did.
Next they heard ancient words, too old to sound familiar but Dean knew they weren't good. Draco roared, angry and helpless. Dean reached out to grab the great dragon, hoping to help, to keep him here. As his hand reached out and his fingertips brushed the warm scales, they passed through the space Draco had been in only seconds before.
Alone.
Darkness enveloped him, pain burning through every cell in his body until the blackness mercifully blotted it, and everything else, out.
Nancy/Nu-Kua roared again, wondering how long it would take to destroy this building using only her voice. The energy shield wavered. She paused, waiting. It flickered twice before dissipating completely.
"Are...are they gone?" Nancy whispered, horror and despair filling her.
I do not know, child, Nu-Kua replied sadly. We must discover what happened to our beloved.
"Dean? Dude, are you planning to wake up this century or what?"
Sam's voice. He would know it anywhere. But when he tried to open his eyes, the pain returned. Actually, keeping them closed wasn't helping either. Holy crap! Dean could hear his breaths shorten and become heavier.
"He's waking up," another voice, also familiar, said.
Dean cracked his eyes open, just enough to see he was in a brightly lit room with two blurry heads hovering over him.
"Dude..." His voice cracked, dry and rusty. "Personal space."
"Thought we'd lost ya this time, boy." Bobby. That was Bobby's voice. "Don't you dare pull a stunt like that again."
"Back," he groaned, realizing his entire back radiated the most pain.
"Easy, Dean," Sam said, patting his arm. "Your back was pretty torn up, but at least you're not branded anymore."
Not branded? Brand. Draco. Draco was gone. He might have to keep reminding himself of that until he grew used to the idea.
"Nancy?" he asked weakly, looking at his other family. His human family.
"Who?" Bobby pulled a chair close to the bed. "Why don't you tell us what the hell happened."
Damn. No Nancy. Well, she wouldn't have anything to do with him without Draco anyway, so that much made sense. Dean closed his eyes against the questions and demands, preferring sleep to their company. If he was going to be alone again, the least they could do was quit pestering him.