Dearest Readers,
I am well, but to be honest lately things have been hard for me mentally. I finally gave myself a kick in the butt and started to write again so now here you go! Expect some more updates coming soon. I like writing these characters so I hope you all enjoy reading their story!
XOXO Ally Layne.
Holy Water
Chapter 18: Drowning on Solid Ground
"Are you telling me you lost it?"
Persie gripped the back of Dean's seat in the '67 Chevy Impala, doing her best to not rip it into shreds with her rage.
The miniature clipper ship that was wrapped up in Dean's coat pocket told them all differently. "I am going to kill that bitch the next time I see her," Persie growled.
"Well, Sam, looks like you got groped by Mrs. Haversham for nothing," Annabeth summed up, leaning back in her seat behind the younger man with a sigh. "It was a great plan, one worthy of Athena," she mused.
Persie snorted from where she was seated next to her. "At least, it was until Dean started thinking with his dick instead of his brain!"
Dean let out a low growl as he sped down the darkened streets, teeth grit together and his knuckles white on the steering wheel. "I'm going to kill her."
Annabeth let out another long sigh. "We can't kill her," she said. "She's the only one who knows where the hand is."
Persie threw her head back against the seat. "Well, as soon as her usefulness expires I am so going to drown her."
"Not unless I shoot her first," Dean muttered, backed up by a short agreement from Sam.
.
.
.
.
The four of them were stewing in their anger all the way back to Peter's house, which was decidedly quiet when they walked in.
"Peter?" Persie called out, turning on some of the lights as they went.
Dean and Sam immediately pulled out their guns as Annabeth grabs her sword made of Dragon Bone from where she had it stashed along her back. They both blinked at the sight of her weapon, but Persie kept moving forward.
"Peter, you there?"
She grabbed her pen and flicked off the cap.
"What's going on?"
The four immediately turned to look at the staircase, where Peter, decked in a robe and pajamas, was walking down the stairs while rubbing his eyes. If he had been wearing one of those sock night caps then he would've looked like that one Scrooge guy Persie saw at a play that her mom made her go to last Christmas.
Obviously, the man had been sleeping.
And decidedly not dead.
Persie sighed, before capping Riptide and leaning against the wall behind her as the adrenaline slowly left her body. "Nothing, just making sure you weren't dead."
He looked between the Winchesters and the demigods and nodded faintly. "Yeah, I'm still alive."
"Good," Persie said.
He nodded, and his eyes were slowly starting to widen as he was able to clearly see the girls in front of him. "Well, you look nice," he said. "And I wasn't invited?"
Annabeth gave him a small smile. "Not this time."
Persie grinned over at Peter. "Stay alive and maybe we'll take you out another time, Pete."
His gaze flickered over to the Winchesters, who were now glaring at the other man with obvious annoyance. "Uh… yeah, I think I'll just go to bed, now."
"Don't drown!" Persie chirped up at him, as he turned to walk back up the stairs.
He looked back down at her over his shoulder. "I'll try not to."
Dean whirled around and stalked back into the living room, where he plopped the miniature of the clipper ship down onto the coffee table before crossing his arms.
Persie followed him, sitting down at the couch and crossing her legs beneath her dress. Annabeth and Sam started to sort through the different folders that they still had regarding the had, and Persie heard them discussing where they could start looking for Bela first.
She sighed.
She was going to drown her.
A smile slowly grew onto her face.
Yes, that sounded like a good idea. It wouldn't even take that long. Or be entirely too difficult.
"The Captain of the ship," Annabeth spoke, pointing out the figure of a tall man in a picture to Sam. "Doesn't he look alarmingly similar to the ghost?"
Persie blinked. "You don't think?"
She smirked. "No, I know."
Sam and Dean shared a look. "And isn't it interesting that Peter had inherited a bunch of money following his father's death?" Sam added.
Persie grimaced. She liked Peter.
But Peter killed his father, according to the ghost boy that attacked him. So, maybe his morals weren't exactly in line with her own. Even if she didn't always like her dad, doesn't mean that she'd ever think about killing him.
Not that she really could kill a god, but that's a whole other issue.
…and not an issue that she has put much thought into, either.
"And now the only thing that could stop this revenging ghost is in the hands of that bitch," Annabeth grumbled, paging through some of the documents with a hardened glare. "The plan worked, too."
Dean let out a low growl. "You know what, Sam?"
They over at Dean, who was seated in a chair by the coffee table, glaring at the small clipper ship in the bottle.
"You're right, I'm not going to kill her."
Persie's eyebrows raised.
"I think slow torture's the way to go."
She blinked. Well, it's not like he doesn't have a point.
Sam sighed, closing the folder he had been ruffling through. "Dean, look, you gotta relax…"
Persie and Annabeth shared a look.
"Relax?"
Annabeth sighed, rolling her eyes. "Sam, that probably-"
"Oh yeah, yeah, I'll relax," Dean spat. He popped up from the chair he was sitting at and started to pace the room like a caged tiger. "I can't believe she got another one over us!"
Sam pursed his lips, but before he could speak, Persie beat him to it. "Uh, I think it was only over you, Hotshot."
Dean whirled around, his glare demeaning. "What?"
She let out a long breath. "Dean, she got one over you, not us-" she cut herself off, sparing a glance for Sam before continuing, "At least, not over Annabeth and I. Sorry Sammy boy, but Annie and I had the perfect plan and the two of you ruined it."
Sam glared at Persie before turning to look at Annabeth, and his face fell as the blonde nodded in her agreement. "She's not wrong."
Dean threw his hands up in the air. "Well thank you ladies, that's very helpful!"
A knock sounded on the door, forcing everyone into a sudden silence.
Persie's eyebrows furrowed as she stood up, grabbing Riptide before taking a step toward the door. She stopped when she heard a sound that would be the closest thing she could think of to Tarturus itself.
"Hello, could you open up?"
"Bela," she growled. But before she could go and open the door to tell the woman where to shove it, Dean walked past her and ripped the door open.
Sam, for his part, walked over as well and slammed a hand on the wall to lean over and glare at the woman, blocking her sight from Persie and Annabeth.
Persie uncapped Riptide, not bothering to try and be subtle. Sometimes it did a person good to know that you just really wanted to kill them.
"Just let me explain," Bela said, brushing past the Winchesters and waltzing into the living room, carefully avoiding the murderous gazes of the other two women. "I sold it." She sat down on the chair that Dean had been sitting at earlier, and he was immediately beside her with one hand on the back of the chair and the other on the table, effectively trapping her. "I had a buyer lined up as soon as I knew it existed."
Dean looked to Sam, who was now leaning against the wall with a dark look. Persie had plopped herself back down next to Annabeth, but both women looked as though they were ready to lunge into a fight at any moment.
Dresses be damned.
"So the whole reason for us going to the charity ball was," Sam snapped, and Persie could tell he was still looking slightly uncomfortable from the groping that he was a victim too all night long.
Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Obviously we were just a cover," she deadpanned, before looking at Bela with her stormy eyes. "Am I right?"
Bela pursed her lips before she replied, "It was convenient."
"Look, you sold it to a buyer, just go buy it back," Dean told her.
"It's halfway across the ocean, I can't get it back in time."
Persie tilted her head. "In time for what?"
Bela glanced over to her, slightly lowering her eyes at the sharpness of the sea-green depths.
A smile slowly spread across Persie's face. "What's wrong, Bela, you look like you saw a ghost?"
"I saw the ship."
"You what?" Dean looked down at her, expecting something more, but she didn't budge. "Huh, wow, you know, I knew were an immoral, thieving, con-artist bitch, but just when I thought my opinion of you couldn't get any lower…"
Bela's eyes snapped up to him. "What are you talking about?"
"We discovered the ghost's motive," Annabeth said. She slid a photo that the group had been discussing across the coffee table. "This is the captain of our ship, the one who hung our ghost boy."
Bela shook her head. "So?"
Sam stalked over, slamming a hand down on the table next to the pictures. "So, they were brothers, very Cain and Abel. So, now our spirit, he's going after a very specific kind of target. People who've killed their own family's blood."
Bela slowly started to shrink back into her chair.
"See, first, there was Sheila, who killed her cousin in a car accident, and then the Warren brothers, who murdered their father for the inheritance," Persie couldn't help but wince at that remark, "And now you."
"Oh my God," Bela breathed.
Persie smirked. "Who was it, Bela?"
"Who'd you kill?" Dean continued. "Was it daddy? Your little sis, maybe?"
Bela glared at all of them. "It's none of your business."
"No, of course not," Annabeth said, standing up from where she had been seated, delicately smoothing the nonexistent wrinkles in her dress. "I do hope you have a nice life." She grinned wickedly at the other blonde. "At least, for whatever you have left of it."
Sam shot the demigoddess a grin before looking back to Bela. "It wasn't nice knowing you."
Dean nodded. "Looks like there's nothing we can do here, let's go guys."
Persie's heart stuttered as he and Sam started to gather the documents off the table and shoved them into their bags. But the ghost will keep-
Bela stood, eyes wide. "You can't just leave me here."
Sam raised a brow. "Watch us."
"Please," Bela looked between them all. "I need your help!"
"Our help?" Dean asked. He paused in his packing to look back at the desperate woman. "Well, now, how could a couple of serial killers possibly help you?"
She huffed. "Okay, that was a bit harsh, I'll admit it, but it doesn't warrant a death sentence."
Sam looked at her in disbelief. "That's not why you're gonna die. What did you do, Bela?"
"You wouldn't understand, no one did," she muttered. She looked between them, but they were all expressionless. "Never mind, I'll just do what I've always done. I'll deal with it myself."
She turned to go when Dean called out to her, "You do realize you just sold the only thing that could have saved your life."
Bela paused. "I'm aware."
Sam pursed his lips, and Annabeth gave him a look.
"Well," Sam sighed. "Maybe not the only thing."
Persie and Dean looked over at the two, who were already wearing matching conniving grins.
"I knew I shouldn't have introduced the two of you," Persie mumbled.
Annabeth spared her a wink, before turning to Sam, and they came up with a plan worthy of Athena.
.
.
.
.
Persie realized that she was going to have to reveal the extent of her powers to Bela, if the plan was going to work. And she wasn't happy about it.
But after a heart to heart with Annabeth, she realized that it really didn't matter. Bela probably knew about their kind already, and if anything, it would only mean that the woman would be slightly more scared of them and what they were capable of.
She decided that she'd be okay with that.
Maybe it would get her to stay the Hades away from Dean.
A full moon had risen above the cemetery, where Sam and Annabeth were busying themselves with setting up the ritual. Annabeth was following Sam's instructions while occasionally asking about specific placements and importance of the structure of the pentagram, which made Persie's mind fog over.
Riptide was ready at her side. She had changed into a pair of thick jeans and a mobile shirt with her vambraces.
However, Bela looked as impeccable as ever, and she noticed that Dean's eyes didn't stray too far from the other woman, but pushed down the feelings that emitted from those thoughts down to the deepest and darkest parts of her mind.
This wasn't just for Bela, this was for Peter- for anyone else who lived in this town and maybe made a bad decision. Or had an accident like Sheila.
This wasn't just about Bela.
Even though Dean and Bela looked mighty close where they were huddled together, leaning against some graves. Persie couldn't help but grit her teeth at the sight.
"Do you really think this is going to work?" Bela asked Dean.
"Almost definitely not," he spoke, his voice grave.
Lighting cracked and thunder rolled in the distance as clouds formed over the moon. Rain started to pour, and Persie felt her demigod-senses start to tingle.
Dean pushed off the headstone and moved to stand closer to Bela while readying his gun in near tandem with Sam.
"Sammy, you better start reading," Dean called over to his brother, shuffling even closer over to Bela. She was looking around nervously, fists clenched at her sides.
Annabeth looked to Sam, and he tossed her his gun. She, for her part, caught it expertly and held it at the ready.
The gun was filled with salt bullets, Annabeth and Persie had learned earlier, so Annabeth could guard Bela at a distance while still being at Sam's side if he needed help with the ritual. She had better aim than Persie, and was decidedly without the water powers that were going to come in handy that night.
Sam nodded to his brother, and began. "Aziel, Castiel, Lameniel, Raboc, Erly et et Belam ego vos conurio per deum verum, per deum vivum…"
The wind picked up, drowning Sam's voice in the distance. Persie held her breath as the candles blew out, and the ghost was there.
Dean turned to Bela. "Stay close!"
And suddenly, the ghost appeared just behind Dean.
"Dean!" Persie yelled, lunging over to where he was standing, but unable to get to him in time.
Dean spun around, trying to shoot the ghost, but was quickly pushed away by the spirit's power and flung directly into a tombstone.
"No!"
The ghost turned and tried to grab Bela's face, but Persie was there.
His eyes widened and he seethed in anger. "You!"
Persie grinned. "Sup, bitch!" She swung Riptide through the ghost, making it dissipate, but not before Bela started to choke at her side.
Dean, who had been scrambling up from where he had fallen, made it over to Bela's side and held her as she started coughing more violently and started to drown on solid ground.
His eyes desperately searched for Persie. "Help her, now!"
Persie dropped Riptide at his voice, lunging over to Bela, and it became a battle of wills between Persie and the ghost as she forced the water out of the woman's lungs.
"Sammy, read faster!" Dean shouted, as Persie continued to battle against the ghost, who suddenly appeared behind her. "Seph!"
His shout of warning didn't stop the ghost's power from throwing Persie into a grave marker, where she hit the rock with a loud crack.
For a moment, Persie's power kept fighting for Bela's life, drawing the water out of her lungs, finally allowing her to take a breath.
But in a split moment, Persie's power ceased, and Bela started to choke once more.
"Persie!" Annabeth's hoarse voice called out in the wind.
Then, the ghost stopped, turning around to see the ghost of the captain standing before him.
"You… hanged me!" the ghost shouted.
"I'm sorry."
"Your own brother!"
"I am so sorry."
Suddenly, the ghost lunged at the captain and they both disappeared in a wave of water.
Bela stopped drowning, leaning back into Dean who held her steady.
Persie looked over to where they were standing, blinking slowly as she allowed herself to regain consciousness. Meanwhile, she wondered why she felt like she was now the one drowning on solid ground.