Chapter 5

Two Weeks Ago

Serra

At dinner that night, Liberty regaled the table about their wonderful field trip, and I smiled in all the right places and agreed with her when she wanted me to. She told Grace and Dean about the cows, the milkers, the horses, and the oxen. Levi and Sammy listened with interest and not once, did Grace turn towards me to ask about the mystery man. It's like she was avoiding it on purpose.

"And Auntie Lucky even got to feed one of the oxen!" Lib exclaimed suddenly, pointing at me with a carrot. "She didn't even volunteer and Farmer Clyde picked her!" She looked slightly crestfallen when she continued, "I didn't get picked to do anything like that."

I finished chewing and shook my head, "What are you talking about?" I challenged. "You got to pet the horse!"

Lib tilted her head, remembering. "Oh yeah!" She turned to Dean and grinned, "His name is Brady and he's so handsome!"

"I can't tell you how happy it makes me that the first time she says something like that is about a horse," Dean muttered to Grace and grinned behind his forkful of food.

Finally, dinner was over, and the kids were playing on the floor, so I found my opportunity. "Well?" I asked, walking up to Grace as she put lids on the containers of leftovers from dinner.

"Well, what?" she asked, not looking up.

I caught Dean and Sammy's attention as they talked quietly from next to the dining room table. "The guy! The big guy from the farm!"

Grace rolled her eyes, "What about him, Serra?" she asked. "You can't get all obsessed with something on a whim."

"It's not a whim!" I explained, gesturing wildly. "I got a bad feeling as soon as I made eye contact with this guy! He gave me the willies!"

"And how exactly do the willies feel?" Sam asked, leaning towards me, wearing a smug grin.

"Fuck off," I replied, turning back to my sister. "Take me seriously. You know I'm a creature based entirely on instinct. My instinct tells me that this guy is not a guy!"

"What is he then?" Grace asked, folding her arms over her chest and staring at me in that 'know-it-all-big-sister' kind of way.

I rolled my eyes back at her and leaned on the counter, "I don't know! That's what you're for! The Nephilim! Read his mind or something!"

"Serra," Grace sighed, "you know it doesn't work like that. If I was there, I would have been able to see what you're seeing, but I don't know who you're talking about or what the guy even looks like. I can't find what I don't know to look for."

"Let's go back to the farm, then," I practically shouted. "You'll see him, and you'll get the same feeling as me!"

Grace and Sammy laughed and turned back to their drinks and the dishes. I jutted my jaw out, pressing my lips together, finally glancing at Dean. He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes, thinking.

There was always a glimmer of hope when it came to hunting with my brother-in-law. I lost the fight against the tug of a smile at the corner of my lip as I stared at him.

Dean met my eye and lifted his eyebrows towards his wife. "When has she ever been wrong?" he asked quietly.

Turning, Grace tilted her head to the side, doubt creasing her brow. "You're buying this?" she asked.

"She's wrong about a lot of things," he began, and my face immediately smoothed, offended that he was turning on me. Dean held up a hand, silencing my argument. "But," he continued, "she's never been wrong about an enemy."

Grace was silent, waiting for more.

"The werewolves," Dean continued, "Ouriel and Sabina." Grace rolled her eyes, but I could tell that Dean was getting somewhere. "Look, I'm just saying that when it matters, Serra tends to be right, whether you want to admit it or not. She's got the instincts."

"Because I'm a Warrior of Fucking Heaven," I added, just to drive the point home.

Dean shot a look at me, reminding me that I never help in arguments. I pressed my lips together.

"There's no harm in checking it out," Dean shrugged. "And if she's wrong, you can tease her about being wrong."

Grace lifted her eyebrows at her husband, "But if she's right, I don't want to hear about it for the next four months."

I was shaking my head, but glimpsed at Dean who closed his eyes, almost looking embarrassed. Immediately, I got the hint and started nodding instead. My sister laughed.

"All right, fine," she sighed. "Do whatever, but don't bring it home with you. I don't wanna have to kill anything and then explain to the kids why we have a body to burn out back."

I wanted to celebrate, but I contained myself. "Deal," I grinned.

…

A Week and a Half Ago

Serra

I let my sister's old Toyota creep down the street on the backside of the farm that I had visited four days ago with my niece and her class. At the last moment as we glided down the road, I remembered to throw the clutch in before it stalled to a stop. The little red hatchback was fun to drive, but man; it was a pain to remember that it was a manual transmission.

"This car has no soul," Dean muttered next to me.

I clicked my tongue as I left it in first gear and pulled the key from the ignition, "Don't let Grace hear you say that," I chastised. "She loves this friggin' car."

It was Dean's turn to make a face, "Seriously?" he asked, shaking his head. "Why?"

"She won it in a poker game," I answered, closing the door quietly behind me. I pulled one of my guns and checked the clip.

"I don't think I know that story," Dean replied from across the top of the roof. "When?"

I shrugged, "I don't know, before Dad was killed. She was pissed at him for something…I don't remember why. She had stayed behind when Dad and me went after a pair of wraiths I think, but it turned out that she was just travelling separately because she couldn't let it go."

Dean made a face and nodded. I knew what he was thinking; his pride about Grace never seemed to stop increasing. He was stupid over her and winning a car in a poker game just added to his admiration. I laughed.

"It's a good story," I added. "Dude was a real prick. She stuck it to him good."

Loading up his pearl-handled, Colt forty-five, Dean chuckled. "It always surprises me when I hear that I don't know everything about her," he explained. "Doesn't seem quite fair that the exact opposite is true."

I shrugged, not really knowing what to say. "Yeah, well," I answered good-naturedly. "The half-and-half thing puts a damper on our secret-keeping abilities, that's for sure." I waved my hands, dismissing talk about my sister. "I'm done talking about the Know-It-All," I grumbled. "Let's go find me a hunt."

Dean and I jogged through the sunflower field that surrounded the farm. They were tall enough to hide even the top of our heads, so I was confident in our quiet approach. At the end of the field, I paused and waited for Dean to catch up, staring towards the giant barn where the farmers milked the dairy cows. I smiled at the memory of watching Lib during the field trip.

"Your daughter was so excited about the cows," I chuckled quietly. "Actin' like she had never seen one before."

"Well," Dean whispered. "Has she?"

I rolled my eyes, "Dude, we live in Kansas. Of course she has."

Chuckling, Dean shook his head and nodded towards the barn. "All right," he sighed. "So, what's your master plan here? Hide in the sunflowers and wait for the monsters to come out?"

"I didn't make you come with me," I snapped. "You could have stayed home, and I could have had some time to myself for a change."

Dean simply lifted an eyebrow.

"We're gonna wait until the sun sets completely and work in the darkness," I finally relented. "I just want to poke around a bit."

"You're gonna get yourself caught," Dean muttered, shaking his head. He stepped out of the sunflower field and dusted himself off, shoving his gun into the back of his jeans and straightening his flannel. "If you wanna play Children of the Corn, you just hang out here for a bit. I'll be back."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," I whispered, trying to grab his flannel as he began his trek across the field towards the barn and horse stalls. "What do you think you're doing?"

Dean ignored me and kept walking, adjusting his posture so he didn't seem intimidating. As he continued, I watch him transform into a civilian, rather than the hunter I knew him to be. I clicked my tongue, knowing one of Dean's favorite things about hunting was the role-playing he got to perform. I rolled my eyes as I followed suit, dusting myself off and trying to catch up to my brother.

"Hey!" Dean called as he approached the barn. He knocked on the side of the wood, trying to get someone's attention. "Anyone home?"

Adjusting my top, I made sure that my guns were safely tucked away in the holster under my jacket. I watched Dean turn towards the horse paddock and stride to the man shoveling hay into the trough.

"Hey!" Dean called again, waving happily. "Hey, man!"

The farmer turned and straightened his posture, obviously confused as to where Dean and I came from.

"Hi," he answered, wary.

Dean grinned at me, playing his part. "See, I knew there would be someone here, honey," he turned back towards the farmer. "I'm Jake and this is my wife Eliza." He smirked down at me, wrapping an arm over my shoulder to demonstrate. "Our car broke down on the other side of the sunflower field over there," Dean turned and pointed awkwardly back the way we came, "and our phones don't have great service out here. I don't even need a tow-truck or anything, just a three-eighths socket wrench. You think I could borrow one?"

The farmer loosened up right away, no longer seeing Dean as a threat. "Oh, yeah, man!" he agreed. "No problem at all. There's a bunch of tools in the tractor barn, come on."

Dean flicked his eyes to mine and held his braggart smile, but just barely. I had never been good at this part of hunting…Grace had always been the one to do the leg work. My job was just to kill the threat.

I fell into step beside my brother-in-law and took a deep breath as I glanced around. I had a part to play.