Chapter 08
Caleb checked his watch as they neared Preston. It was closing in on eleven in the morning, and the sun was already high in the sky and scorching. Chen had already been exposed to the elements for over two days. He had little hope of finding the taciturn hunter alive, but somehow even that faint glimmer wouldn't fade. Eyes glued to the George's vehicle, he felt urgency tight in his chest, and had to force himself to stay in the rear position when everything inside was yearning to jump into the lead. But it was Emanuel who knew where his and Chen's camp had been, and sometimes part of the Knight's duty was to take the position of back up. Still, he couldn't help but murmur under his breath, "Come on … come on."
Inside the lead Humvee, Emanuel suddenly said, "Turn up here."
"We haven't reached Preston," George protested, his fingers white-knuckled on the wheel.
"We'd finished the job," Emanuel said, a tinge of impatience in his voice. "Turn here," he repeated.
George jerked the wheel to the left and swung the screeching vehicle precariously off the highway and onto a dirt road. Dust rose immediately billowed up as the Humvee navigated the uneven terrain. After ten bumpy minutes, he asked, "You recall where this is?"
"Yes," Emanuel said in a quiet undertone. Another three minutes elapsed before he pointed, "There."
Caleb followed the Humvee, and through the thick clouds of dust saw the taillights flash red. George was slowing down. As he applied the breaks, he quickly scanned the flat terrain until the top edges of a tent came into focus. He felt his heart turn over in dread. He didn't know if Emanuel could handle seeing Chen dead, not after all he'd already been through.
George stopping his vehicle several feet from the campsite. He and Matt stepped out of the Humvee while Emanuel stayed in back beside Joshua, looking toward the tip of the tent they could see a short ways away
Caleb pulled up behind the Humvee and shut down the engine. Climbing out from behind the driver's wheel, he approached the front vehicle. Leaning in through the driver's window, he said to Joshua and Emanuel, "You both stay here," but his eyes focused on the younger man.
"But…" Emanuel began to protest.
"Not negotiable," Caleb stated emphatically. Then, seeing the emotion in the young man's eyes, he said, "I'll take this. Matt and LaKeesha will accompany. We'll call as soon as we know something, either way. Then you come in. Got it?"
Emanuel nodded, though he looked as though he wanted to argue.
Nodding, Caleb turned to face Matt, LaKeesha and George. To George he said, "Make sure he stays here until we call."
George nodded reluctantly. He knew Caleb wanted to protect the younger man. But he wasn't sure banning him from searching for his partner was the way to go.
At that moment Emanuel called urgently, "Caleb!" When the Knight turned around, he said simply, "He's my partner. I need to come."
Seeing the fear as well as the determination on the young face, Caleb sighed. He couldn't protect hunters from the field, even though this was one of the times he wanted to. "Fine, you're in." Turning to George, who had a smile on his face, Caleb rolled his eyes. "All right, George, you and I lead the way. Josh, you follow and Manny brings up the rear. Matt, Keesh, skirt around the side and come into camp from the north." When Emanuel looked like he was going to protest, Caleb stated, "That's final. You press it, you stay here."
Emanuel sighed and nodded.
Caleb didn't figure the succubus left anyone alive here, but he wanted to approach the campsite cautiously regardless. There were a few carrion birds flying overhead, but not to the degree there would be if three dead bodies were lying below. Even if bobcats, coyotes or an unlikely black bear were feeding, there would still be a sizable flock overhead, awaiting their turn. It gave him a glimmer hope Chen had been able to hang on until help arrived. When he saw the legs, he stopped.
Motioning for Emanuel to come up beside him, he pointed to the appendages covered in scrub brush.
Emanuel looked and shook his head. It wasn't Chen.
Caleb glanced up at the barren sky again. There was a body. Why weren't there any carrion eaters flying above? Where were the vultures and the ravens, both of which were indigenous to Nevada?
The satellite phone crackled lightly and Matt's voice was heard. "Found a body."
"Same here," Caleb murmured. "We're heading into camp."
"Roger. Meet you there."
Caleb nodded to George, and they walked into full view of the body. Full rigor had already passed and the deceased was relaxed and white. Listening intently, he couldn't detect any movement or sound from within the camp. Looking to George, he pointed to his ears. The Washoe tracker shook his head. He hadn't heard anything either. Pulling his weapon and a bottle of holy water from his pack, Caleb moved past the body and headed into the camp. A smallish tent stood off to his right. Nearby was the remains of a fire, a turned over camp kettle Chen and Emanuel had used for making coffee, and a pot listing sideways over what had been a fire. And there, right in the middle of the camp was a large Chinese protection sign. Caleb smiled grimly and shook his head. No carrion eaters, no scavengers. Chen had protected himself. Glancing at Emanuel, he murmured, "Stay here."
"No," Emanuel said, his face determined.
Caleb signed. "Fine." Nodding to Matt and LaKeesha, who had come in from the other side of camp, he motioned for them to stay with Joshua and George while he and Emanuel checked the tent. "Be prepared," he said at the tent flap.
"As much as I can be," Emanuel replied, his voice faint but steady.
Caleb lifted the flap to see Chen lying on one of the sleeping bags, completely still. He couldn't even detect the rising of his chest.
"Chen," Emanuel whispered, and he rushed forward, hand already outstretched to check for a pulse.
Caleb hung back, waiting.
Emanuel held his hand to Chen's throat. "Not detecting a pulse," he whispered. "Skin feels warm and elastic."
Stepping forward, Caleb leaned down on Chen's other side and touched the pulse at the prone man's neck. After a second, he murmured, "Nothing."
The tent flap opened and Joshua entered. Looking uncomfortable in his hunched over posture, he moving up beside Caleb and said, "Let me."
Nodding, Caleb shuffled back out of the way, giving Joshua room to work.
Joshua didn't check for Chen's pulse as Emanuel and Caleb had. Instead he ran a finger down Chen's arm, then quickly pulled a small vial of liquid from his knapsack. Leaning forward, he pulled Chen's chin down enough for his mouth to open. Then he poured in the contents of the vial after which he massaged the prone man's throat. Pulling down Chen's chin again, he checked to make sure the mouth was empty of liquid before he slowly lowered himself into a sitting position.
Emanuel watched Joshua a moment, then sat as well.
Feeling the tent was very crowded with four people inside, Caleb said to Joshua, "I'm going to check the camp." At Joshua's nod, he crawled outside and stood, stretching slightly.
"Anything?" LaKeesha asked anxiously, Matt and George right there, waiting for news.
"Couldn't detect a pulse, but Joshua gave him something. We'll see."
Like the air leaving a balloon, everyone sighed and nodded.
"Let's check the bodies," Caleb said. "Get some identification. If they were under her thrall, they've probably been reported missing. We'll sanitize the campsite and let the authorities know."
"I'll let them know and wait here for their arrival," George said. "The state authorities know me, and know I'm a tracker. It won't be the first time I've had to call when I've found a missing person."
"Thanks," Caleb said. Turning, he walked to the body he'd seen, knowing Matt and LaKeesha were checking the one they'd passed. Leaning down, he could tell from Emanuel's story that this was the guy he'd shot. There was a hole between his eyes, and a wound in the right shoulder. Checking the guy's pockets, he found a wallet in the rear left pocket and pulled it out. Inside was a trucker's license for William Reagan out of Ohio. There were also pictures of a wife, and three children that looked to be between thirteen and eighteen. "Damn it," he murmured. Sighing, he rose and walked over to where LaKeesha was standing over Matt. She looked up as Caleb approached.
"Jaxon Cruz," she said. "Newly married; looks like a baby on the way." She held up a sonogram. "Just started a job as a dealer at Planet Hollywood."
Caleb's brows shot up in surprise.
"There's a congratulations note from his wife," LaKeesha explained.
"Wound in the throat," Matt said, standing.
"Chen," Caleb said, knowing from Emanuel that the throat wound was from Chen's pistol.
Matt sighed. Looking to George, he said, "What are you going to say?"
"I avoid saying too much of anything," George explained, his expression somber. "Though I'm trained in reading tracks and the language of the ground's topography, the authorities do not welcome my input. I only alert them to the find. But when I call it in, I can mention foul play. It'll plant a seed and lead them in that direction."
Caleb nodded. "All right, we leave everything where we found it. Take a picture of the IDs in case the families probe the disappearances further and we need to intervene. Clean away anything of Emanuel's and Chen's…"
"He's alive!"
As one, they all jerked around to face Emanuel, who was half out of the tent.
"Whatever Joshua did, he's alive!"
The young man disappeared back inside.
"What?" Matt exclaimed, running over to the tent followed closely by LaKeesha.
George smiled. "I'll be damned," he murmured, walking over.
Instead of following, Caleb merely closed his eyes and let his head drop forward in relief. While he didn't particularly consider himself a praying man, he did believe in God. Quietly under his breath, he murmured, "Thank you," before he pulled out his satellite phone. After checking his watch, he decided against the sat-phone and retrieved his cell instead. To Dean, he texted: Chen alive. Will update on status. Smiling, he started gathering anything that may carry Chen or Emanuel's fingerprints.
Dean stepped onto the main dirt road about thirty yards out from the abandoned buildings that could only be called a ghost town if one intended to be humorous. Road was also generous, but he figured for a stagecoach, it was just wide enough. He thought the outcrop of buildings had likely been a stopover Station for stage coaches on their way from parts north to Las Vegas, San Francisco or Southern California. The house would have been for the station master and his family, the building to its left one that doubled as a saloon and grocery store where travelers could get a drink, some food and stock up on supplies. The dilapidated building likely gave horses some relief from the heat and to get watered and fed, while the large warehouse structure may have been a boarding house where travelers could rent a room, and maybe inside was an area designated for storing goods and parts for stage coach repairs. Of course, he was also using the term warehouse lightly. The building wasn't large enough for any modern day definition of a warehouse. And the truth was, it could have been used for any number of reasons. It was all guesswork anyway.
Beginning a measured, deliberate walk toward the dilapidated building he'd dubbed the garage, he gave the horizon a cursory scan as he tried to project confident unconcern, as though he didn't expect anyone to be around. If the succubus was watching, and he had no doubt she was, he wanted her attention on him; not on the two teams circling the ghost town, nor on Sam and Wilu. "Come on, Sammy," he muttered under his breath, having every confidence his brother would be able to find her. "Get the bitch."
.
Vince hunched low behind a slight crest in the barren wasteland and hoped the sparse incline was enough to give him and Isaac cover. There wasn't much leading to the back section of the warehouse. When he'd traversed it before, it had been night. Now they were out here in the brilliance of the noonday sun and completely exposed. Isaac handed him a canteen, and he took a long swig of water. Lowering it, he murmured, "What do you think? Head down quick and fast, or try to go from here to the conifer tree, then to that rock. It's only a short ten yards from there to the building."
Isaac scanned the area, then checked his watch. "I say we get down as quick and quiet as possible. It's taken longer than we planned for us to get this far. Dean should be walking down Main Street soon. We need to be in place."
Vince glanced over and grinned. "Can't believe this. It's like an Old Western movie."
Isaac chuckled, shaking his head. "What's up with you and westerns?"
"Makes me feel macho," Vince quipped before he turned and, hunched over low, rushed over the incline and down the small sloping hill to the warehouse.
Rolling his eyes, Isaac muttered, "Yippee-ki-yay," and followed in his wake.
.
Daniel and Joel loped lightly down the rocky hillside behind the dilapidated garage, trying to keep the dust of their tracks down to a minimum. The trouble with trying to move in a stealthy manner in a desert was that every footfall brought up sand residue and powdered dirt that could be seen if one was looking. Coming up behind the building, Joel crouched down, breathing hard. Daniel settled at his back and wiped the sweat from his face.
"No one," Daniel muttered in hushed tones.
"Ditto," Joel replied. Pointing, he murmured, "Corner."
Daniel moved swiftly toward the corner of the house facing the second building, Joel at his back. When he got there, he crouched down and checked his watch. "Five to go."
Joel tapped his shoulder and pointed to the second building. Through the window he'd seen a brief flash of shadow. Daniel nodded; he'd seen it too.
"I'm heading back to the other corner to watch for Dean," Joel whispered.
Daniel gave Joel a thumbs up, keeping his eyes on the house across the alley, his expression determined. Just a little bit more, and they could take down the people that killed Chen.
.
Dean approached the Station, the garage on his right. His senses were stretched and his nerves singing. Any second someone could step out of one of the buildings and say Stick 'em up. He couldn't stop the small smile from playing across his lips. His dad would have said, this is no time for jokes, Dean. But often he couldn't help siphoning off some energy by way of humor. Sam didn't understand that very well either, though he'd gotten used to it. But Caleb got it, and often retaliated in kind.
He had just started for the small Station keeper's house when a movement off to his left had him pivoting. Simultaneously, his sawed off was up, aimed and fired, hitting the guy coming out of the warehouse in the shoulder. Diving to the side, he fired twice at a second man, hitting him once in the shoulder and clipping his side. The man spun around and hit the side of the warehouse wall and fell.
Then gunfire rang out from every corner. Isaac and Vince stormed around the corner of the warehouse, their guns trained on the three men that were emerging from the second building beyond the house. Joel came around the corner of the garage hot on the heels of a man who was running in the direction Dean had come. Daniel stumbled out of the small house in hand to hand combat with a tall, booted man with flaming red hair. It was a scene directly out of an old west movie.
Dean looked around, nonplussed. Everyone was fighting, but he didn't see anyone else at the windows or pouring out of doors. "Seriously?" he declared. "Brought a gun to a gunfight, and there's no one to fight." Disgusted, he stalked over to the small house and vented his frustration with a swift kick to the back of the knee of Daniel's opponent. The kick knocked the guy off balance, causing him to fall forward into Daniel's fist. Dean didn't even stop; just walked on into the house, Daniel's laughter echoing in his wake.
Inside the building was barren and dilapidated, like the rest of the Station. But there were still chairs and a broken-down couch in the living room, and a kitchen table covered in years of dust. An irritated lizard skittered off, disgruntled at the intrusion into his abode.
A crash at the front door told him Daniel was still at work, either with the red-haired guy or someone new. Opening the pantry, he looked inside. Nothing. After checking out the two small bedrooms, he walked out the back door toward the second building.
Cautiously he slipped in the back door and noticed an immediate difference. This place had been used recently. The table and chairs were in an upright position, it was dust free and the floor looked as though it had undergone a thorough cleaning. Several pallets lay on the ground in one corner, as though their previous occupants had left quickly. Along the far wall was a narrow bar with a couple of bars stools. Behind the bar was a double door leading to what was probably a kitchen area. On his left was a recently repaired staircase climbing up to the second floor. Surprised, he looked up at the ceiling. He wouldn't have pegged the house as having a second story.
After listening intently for a few moments, he took the stairs upward, keeping close to the wall to minimize squeaks. After all, he'd grown up in an old house. He and Caleb had navigated those creaky stairs at the farm on numerous occasions to sneak food or something stronger when Dean was older.
Here, the second floor had a main hall down the center, with what looked like four small bedrooms, two on each side of the building. Slipping his sawed off into the holster on his back, he pulled out his gun. Senses tingling, he crept silently down the hall. There was no sound whatsoever in the house, and that in and of itself he found strange. Most old structures creaked and popped and moaned. Not this one. Maybe the succubus had done something to shore up the frame, keep it from making noise - or falling down around her ears.
At the first door, he leaned against the wood and listen intently for any sound from inside. Hearing nothing, he slowly turned the knob, intent on making as little noise as possible. When the knob was all the way turned, he shifted his position, readied his gun, and shoved the door open, all without making a sound or letting go of the doorknob. The room was bare of everything save a chair and a small writing desk with a broken leg. With deliberation he pulled the door closed, and repeated the operation on the door across the hall. Inside the second room were a few stacked boxes and a well worn tarp. Again, the door was closed silently as he proceeded further. At the third door, he listened intently. There was no sound at all, but the room didn't feel empty. Gripping his gun tightly, he slowly turned the knob and opened the door.
.
Sam and Wilu had swung wide of the town, keeping distance between themselves and the teams. Sam didn't want to attract any attention to the others if the succubus sensed him searching for her. Now, he squatted down behind a large, lone Jeffrey Pine and opened his mind, making sure he kept up the blocks he'd learned to use years before. Immediately he sensed someone other than human in the area. His earlier years sensing the escapees from the gate and having Lucifer inside his skin had refined his ability to sense otherworldly creatures. Focusing his abilities to the west of the outcrop of buildings, he scanned the sparse terrain. There was nothing there, though the sense of a non-human presence remained clear. Turning, he focused on the northern edges of the town. Then he scanned a bit further north than where he thought the succubus would be. When he sensed nothing, he briefly considered opening himself wider, but didn't have any backup if she took note of his presence. He knew something of succubi, and knew they had keen senses. But he couldn't remember if they were particularly psychic or not. It was times like this he wished Caleb was around to do the psychic snooping.
Over the years he'd come to an incremental peace with his abilities; had even used them occasionally. But he knew he would never use them as freely as Caleb. He'd discovered he couldn't be trusted with that kind of power. It made him intolerant and disdainful of others, and he didn't like that. Though Caleb's abilities had also come from the same source, he often wondered if, because he'd been infected by Azazel as a child rather than inheriting the abilities like Caleb, if that made them more powerful and unstable. Caleb always told him his abilities were powerful, that he could sense the power. And Sam had given into that power after Dean had returned from hell. He'd used those abilities to kill Alastair with his mind, and he knew he could have done that a thousand times over. But that power had made him condescending of the one person who loved him the most, the person who had always been in his corner no matter what he'd done. Caleb didn't fully understand because he wasn't in the same position. The power had twisted him into someone he didn't want to be, into a person he didn't even like. Therefore he didn't use his abilities.
"Anything?" Wilu asked softly.
"Yes and no," Sam answered. "I can sense she's here, but not exactly where."
"Can I ground you?"
Sam turned and stared at Wilu, frowning. "What do you mean?"
"We have psychics in the tribe," Wilu said. "Sometimes they want to be more cautious than their abilities might allow. So someone like me, who isn't psychic, will act as a ground, to deflect where their abilities originate."
"You can do that?"
Wilu nodded.
"All right, what do I have to do?"
"Grip my arm and focus on me. When you have a strong sense of me and my presence, then you do your thing."
Sam's lips twitched into a slight smile. "Do my thing?"
Shrugging slightly, Wilu smiled. "I don't fully understand how a psychic does what they do."
"To tell you the truth," Sam confessed, "Neither do I." Holding out his hand, he gripped the young man by the forearm and focused. The sense of the youth filled his mind; sand, huts, a small room, tracking through the wilderness, pine-scented air and streams of fresh, mountain water. Smiling, he turned his attention onto the landscape, opening his mind to the otherworldly presence he'd sensed earlier and following the pathway through the scrub brush and dirt trail, down the hillside and inside the small town. Frowning, his grip on Wilu tightened as he mind traveled past the battling people into a small building and a room, into which Dean had just walked. "Dean!"
Caleb jerked as the ring on his hand suddenly burned fiercely. Immediately he reached out psychically and touched on Dean. All he sensed was water. Frowning, he reached further and called, Dean? Strong blocks slammed down, but not before he heard, Sam. Instantly Caleb reached out to Sam.
Dean's in with the succubus, Sam said through their connection.
Can you get to him?
On my way now, but I'm outside the town; way outside, damn it. I was searching for the thing, keeping my distance so I didn't call attention to the others.
Searching psychically?
Yes. Dean thought she'd be here waiting for a look-see. She's damn well looking up close right now.
Can you get there in time? Silence greeted Caleb's question. Okay, where?
Building next to the house, second floor, second door down on the right.
Got it, Caleb said. I'm coming your way.
You won't get here in time.
I'll distract her on the way; you get to Dean.
Can you do it from that far away?
I dream-walked with Onida when I was in Kentucky and she was in Washington, Caleb answered. This is a piece of cake.
I'll let you know when I get there.
I'll sense you. Keep you blocks up and don't let her touch you.
I know how to deal with succubi, came Sam's waspish reply before he withdrew.
Caleb smiled as he turned and saw both Matt and LaKeesha staring at him, their expressions worried. Explaining about Dean's hunch that the succubus would be watching to see if anyone came to clear out the town, he finished, "She wasn't watching from the hillside; she's in town and Dean's in with her. We've got to go."
"How long will it take to get there?" LaKeesha asked, frowning.
"Ignoring the speed limits? Inside an hour," Caleb answered.
Matt stepped forward and asked, "How do you expect to help?" Caleb just looked at him, and he got it. "All right. We've sanitized the area," he said, pointing to the pile of items that belonged to Chen and Emanuel. "We'll load the SUV now."
LaKeesha said, "Should I call the Brotherhood Cleaners to finish up here?"
"No," Caleb said. "Have Emanuel come out and double check the site, make sure his and Chen's gear is accounted for. Then George can take Joshua, Chen and Emanuel to the nearest town to get Chen medical help. I'm going to Warm Springs."
"We're going with you," Matt said, coming up beside LaKeesha, who was nodding.
"Good, cause you're driving while I keep a succubus occupied," Caleb remarked.
As Matt and LaKeesha began rapidly carrying Emanuel and Chen's things over to George's Humvee, Caleb headed over to the tent.
Inside, Chen appeared to be asleep. Emanuel was crammed into the small space between Chen and the tent wall, while in the sparse open section of the tent George sat near Joshua, who was grinding something inside a stone bowl. The older man looked up as Caleb entered.
"A word?" Caleb said quietly.
Joshua frowned, but instead of asking any questions, he merely handed the pistil and stone bowl over to George, saying, "Please keep grinding the potion. I'll be back in a moment."
"You don't need to go out, you know," George remarked, taking the bowl from Joshua. "We're all part of the Brotherhood."
Caleb rolled his eyes. "I was thinking about not disturbing Lee."
"Chen is deeply asleep," Joshua said. "He needs undisturbed rest and several potion mixes to stabilize his condition. Then we can get him to the hospital."
Nodding, Caleb said, "All right. Here's the deal; Dean's in trouble. We've already sanitized Chen and Manny's campsite, but I need you," he inclined his head to Emanuel, "to go outside and make sure anything linking you both here is gone. Then Matt, Keesh and I are going to Warm Springs."
"I should go too," Joshua said, moving stiffly to his knees. "Dean may need help if the succubus ensnares him."
"She won't," Caleb said. "Dean's protected. But I need to be on site if she's captured. I'll be able to read her."
"Sam's there," Joshua said, though he knew the younger Winchester wasn't as proficient in his skills as he could be, and he understood why.
"It's my job," Caleb stated. He wasn't about to go into Sam and his abilities. Sam didn't like to use them, and didn't advertise them in any way. Though Caleb didn't advertise his to any degree, he also wasn't as reticent about using them in the company of others should the occasion call for it. "And if they come under siege due to her capture, they'll need more hands to guard the prisoners and her. Do you have any of that deprogramming potion ready to go?"
"No," Joshua said. "I'll need to make more." Frowning, he felt pulled in two directions. His Triad needed him, but so did Chen. He glanced over to the sleeping man. "All right. I'll make you a draft of the potion. Then I'm staying here to look after Chen until we can get him to the nearest town for medical help. Then I'm coming to Warm Springs. How can I get there?"
"I'll drive you," George said immediately. "I know paths that are not on a map. "
"Can you tell us some of those paths?" Caleb asked.
George grinned. "Definitely."
Dean caught sight of the woman through the door and the doorjamb even before it swung fully open. Instead of backing away, he widened the gap and stepped into the opening.
The woman smiled. Ruby lips, large almond eyes rimmed in lush feathery lashes dominated an exquisite face. Of Japanese heritage, the woman standing beside a shabby, bedraggled chair was a vision. Hair that was long and raven black framed a heart-shaped face whose skin glowed with porcelain radiance. Smiling, she murmured, "Hello, Guardian."
Frowning slightly, Dean repeated, "Guardian?" She spoke with the faintly accented voice of someone to whom English was a second language.
The woman's laughter chimed like bells on the wind. "Let us not begin with feigned subterfuge. There is a sense of water about you, and water is the symbol of the Guardian of the Brotherhood."
For anyone to know that water was the symbol of the Guardian meant they knew a lot of details about the Brotherhood. "You seem to know a lot."
"Oh, far more than you, I imagine," the succubus replied.
The woman moved for the first time, and Dean instantly realized just how still and immobile she had been up till now. His eyes followed her as she drifted from beside the shabby chair to the window, her back to him.
"I have met many of your kind through the years," she murmured, and her voice conveyed a hint of mystery and promise. "We have dealt well in the past."
Dean nearly snorted. Instead, he said, "Really."
Giving him a smile over her shoulder, she said, "Really."
He didn't believe her for a moment. "Why are you here?"
"I have business in the Americas."
"Why are you here," Dean repeated. She was sending out pheromones, as he knew she could and would. As she looked so young, he felt as though he wanted to both protect her and find her parents. Firmly he pushed down the urge.
"I wanted to meet you."
"You could have called."
"I am unused to the devises you use for communication."
"Get with the 21st century," Dean quipped.
The woman smiled. "If I had, as you would say, called, would you have come?"
Dean shrugged. "Depends on how you asked."
Turning, she laughed softly as she leaned against the window sill, her back to the glass. The sunlight created a halo of light to silhouette her body. "Yes," she murmured. "There was that possibility."
Eyes narrowed, Dean noted that the sun framing the succubus made her beauty appear even more surreal and supremely unnatural, and he knew she was well aware of the effect. If he hadn't been protected as the Guardian, he wondered if he would have been immune to her charms. Still, he wasn't banking everything on that – he planned on keeping his distance.
"I am Asuka," the succubus said. "My name means fragrance of tomorrow. I bring joy to millions."
"Until you kill them," Dean countered.
"I have no need or desire to kill anyone."
Dean didn't bother to argue. Nothing she did or said engendered trust. When she stepped forward away from the window sill, he took a step back.
"You needn't worry," the Succubus stated, and her appearance shifted slightly as her eyes became wider and the ruby glint to her lips faded into a fresh blush of youth. "I do not plan on ensnaring you. In truth, I do not even know if you find this frame enticing. I cannot read you, nor could I read any Guardian. Thus I appear as I was born rather than shift into a form you would most find appealing."
The statement was made in a shy manner, but Dean wasn't fooled. "Why did you attack our people?"
"Attack? I only took the young one so you would come. He would not have been harmed."
"And his partner?"
Blinking her eyes innocently, she stated simply, "He tried to stop me."
"So, violence is okay when your plans are thwarted."
A slow smile widened her lips. "Yes," she said simply.
Tired of the tap dance, Dean asked once more, "Why are you here?"
"I wanted to see you."
"Me? Why?"
The woman watched him intently. Then after a moment, she nodded and stepped further from the window. "I want safe passage through the Americas while I conduct my business. I do not intend to disrupt your normal duties in safeguarding the humans from nefarious creatures. However, I would rather expend neither time nor energy subduing your people should they attack. I wish my time here to be productive and short."
"And what is your business?"
A smile curved her lips once more. "Mine."
"So, you want free reign here while you conduct your … business," Dean emphasized with a look in her direction. "But you're not willing to say what that business is. If you know anything of the Brotherhood, why would you think I'd agree?"
"You are a most unusual Guardian," Asuka said. "You have made deals with otherworldly creatures before, and even those of the Underworld. Why would you not do business with me?"
Dean felt his face flush with heat at the truth of her words. "What happened in the past…"
"I understand," Asuka interrupted, waving away his explanations. Her expression held sincerity and understanding. "There was an Apocalypse. Every being attached to the non-human world knew. Desperate times demand desperate measures. But why should the changing times preclude our transaction? I only plan on conducting my business, then leaving the Americas for home."
"Do you plan on enslaving any residents while doing your business?"
"Should it become necessary," the succubus replied. "But I vow I will not kill them."
"Then I'd say that safe passage isn't going to happen," Dean stated.
"They would not be harmed," Asuka stated impatiently. "They would only do my bidding while I had need of them, and then they would be set free."
"Don't humans desire a succubus for the remainder of their lives once they're ensnared?" Dean asked. "Cause I'd say that was a problem."
"Eternal enslavement is a choice…"
"Which an enslaved human can't make when enslaved," Dean stated.
The succubus smiled. "If I ensured their free will was their own?"
"Lost your credibility with the smile, Sweetheart."
Looking peeved, the succubus sighed and her appearance shifted back to the slightly older version of herself and her lips reddened. "Then our time has been…" suddenly she frowned as a hand went up to her head. "What…?"
Slowly Dean lifted his gun, careful to make no sudden movement that would attract her attention, and fired into the succubus's heart. Screaming at the assault of pure silver on her body, the succubus stumbled, though only slightly. Staring down at her ravished chest, she lifted her head slowly and snarled. …Then, she attacked. Rising inches from the floor, she flew toward Dean, landing on his chest and knocking him back onto the hallway floor.
"You will pay for this insult," she hissed as her chest knit itself closed. Raising a hand, her nails lengthened into claws. Before she could swing down, she screamed again. Leaning back in agony, she clutched her head.
Taking advantage of the opportunity, Dean shoved her off his body and scrambled back in the cramped hallway until his back hit the wall. Lifting his gun, he fired again. This time, however, the succubus was quick to respond. Knocking his arm to the side, the bullet hit her shoulder rather than her chest. Faster than he could react, she had him by the throat and hissed, "Tell your mind master to cease."
Gasping for air, Dean felt the skin on his neck burn under her fingers. "Can't," he choked. Maneuvering his gun hand, he fired again into her side. Screaming again, her grip tightened and he felt his vision waver. He attempted to pry off her hands, but she was far too strong.
Suddenly another gun sounded and the succubus fell sideways. Gasping, Dean scrambled to the side, aiming his gun in the direction he thought she'd fallen, only to find empty air.
Footfalls sounded to his right, and he turned to see Joel and Daniel running in his direction. Joel knelt down to check Dean's throat while Daniel headed for the window at the end of the hall.
"Nothing!" Daniel called. Moving back to where Dean lay, he took a quick look into the bedroom, gun poised and ready to fire.
"She's gone," Dean rasped, indicating the room as he got slowly to his feet.
"I'll clear it anyway," Daniel stated, swinging into the room, gun level and held in close to his body. He swept the room, even inside the armoire. Checking out the window, he saw no one on the ground or running away. "Must have flown."
"I believe that's one of their traits," Joel remarked, touching at various puffy fingermarks on Dean's neck.
"How…" Dean waved a hand, asking how Daniel and Joel had known where he was.
Joel smiled. "Sam."
Daniel returned to the hallway and handed Joel a canteen. "Room's clear. Nothing out the window far as I could see," he informed the pair. "She's in the wind."
Joel twisted open the canteen top. Holding it out to Dean, he said, "Drink slowly. You're throat is going to be sore for awhile."
Nodding, Dean took the canteen and allowed some cool water to pour into his mouth. Nothing had ever felt better, until he tried to swallow. "Ughhh," he choked, spitting the water out.
"I said slowly," Joel remarked, smiling. "Bet you wouldn't mind a piece of that fruit from last year." Both Joel and Dean had been caught in a place where plants that offered healing fruits had been plentiful. Unfortunately, that place was unreachable now.
Dean gave Joel the finger. Leaning back against the wall, he lifted the canteen to try once more. Taking a smaller sip into his mouth, he laboriously swallowed the water, choking and coughing as he did so.
Joel pulled him away from the wall and pounded lightly on his back. "Try another," he said. "It'll be better the second and third times."
Carefully, he took in another mouthful even as he heard more boots on the stairs. He knew who it was, and within seconds Sam was at his side.
"Are you all right?"
Joel stood and motioned for Daniel. "We're going to check on the prisoners."
"Prisoners?" Dean hissed painfully.
"We captured six of her followers. Two got away."
"Nice job," Sam said over his shoulder. "Wilu is downstairs."
Nodding, Daniel and Joel headed back down the hall, their footfalls echoing on the stairs before they disappeared.
"How…" Dean began before stopping to take a painful swallow of water.
"I sensed her, right here in this room," Sam said, taking a look inside the bedroom. "I felt you go inside, then," he raised his hand, "I got the bat signal."
Dean's brows rose. He hadn't felt his ring burn.
"Did you sense Caleb call out to you?"
Frowning, Dean thought back but couldn't truthfully say he did. Maybe the succubus had more of an effect on him than he'd thought.
"Not necessarily," Sam stated. When his brother's eyes darted to him, he snorted. "I don't need to read your mind; I know you. You were thinking the succubus might have affected you. But I think you were so intent on blocking out any of her wiles, you didn't focus on anything else."
"Maybe," Dean croaked. Raising a hand to his throat, he felt the hot, swollen flesh. "Thing had a grip." Nodding to the stairs, he said, "Let's get out of here."
Sam nodded, and they walked slowly back down the hallway. "Caleb's on the way."
Dean looked up. "Why?"
"Oh, maybe it's because our rings went into burn mode."
"Burn mode?" Dean would have chuckled if he could.
Sam smiled. "Too bad Joshua's not coming. He could have made something for your throat. For the moment, keep sipping that water. The moisture will help."
Dean merely nodded and took another sip as they walked down the stairs and out of the building.
The moment he saw Dean, Vince walked up and peered at his throat. "Damn, that's gotta smart." Pulling a packet from his pocket, he held up some throat lozenges. "They're for allergies, but they should help the soreness anyway."
"Thanks," Dean croaked. Clearing his throat gently, he asked, "Where…"
"Are the hostages?" Isaac interjected, joining the three. "They're in the larger building where we found Manny. Joel and Daniel are standing guard. They're bruised, a couple have gunshot wounds, but nothing's broken. We'll need that antidote Joshua came up with to get them back into their right minds, but they're quiet for now."
"You think she'll come back for them?" Vince asked.
Sam shook his head. "No, they're disposable." Looking to his brother, he asked, "Did she say about why she stayed in town?"
Making a so-so hand movement, Dean merely sucked on his throat lozenge as he started walking toward the warehouse. He needed a bit more numbness before he even tried giving an explanation of the succubus' revelations.
Isaac opened the door to the warehouse and walked inside followed by Vince. Sam took Dean's arm, preventing him from following.
"Are you all right?"
Giving his brother a smile, Dean nodded. Clearing his throat again, he whispered, "Just want a bit more numbness before I get into telling it."
"Fair enough." Sam opened the door and followed in behind Dean.
In the center of the warehouse floor lay six men, bound and gagged. Three of the captives had bandages packed into wounds. While Sam walked forward followed by Vince and Isaac, Dean turned and scanned the structure. He could understand people thinking this had been a warehouse, and it may have doubled as such. From what he could see, a large walled off area had been demolished to widen the main floor. Along the far wall a staircase led up to a small second floor. Wandering that way, Dean slowly climbed to the second level, keeping alert to anything or anyone that may have remained hidden. It was his opinion that on a hunt? Second floors were cursed. Just a couple days ago he'd been thrown around an attic by a ghost. Now a succubus had nearly strangled him. Maybe he should make Caleb search all second floors from now on.
As he walked, he could hear the voices below over the creaks of the warped and weathered floorboards. On his right was a railing looking down on the main floor, which may have been a lobby of some sort. Along the right were five doors: bedrooms, maybe, or offices.
The first door was ajar, and he pushed it open while leaning on the hall wall.
"Seems clear."
Dean jerked around to see Wilu standing a few feet behind him. "Don't…" Swallowing a little, he finished, "…do that."
Wilu smiled and stepped closer. "Just watching your back."
"Literally," Dean mumbled. He was a damn good tracker, but this kid had feet like a mouse. Moving past the first door, he pushed open the second, then moved on in like manner until the end of the long hall. "Just one," he rasped.
"This one," Wilu said, pointing to the fourth.
Dean nodded and walked back. Inside, Wilu pointed to the faint outline of a footfall on the dusty floor. "Stay here," he murmured. Moving in, he was careful to sidestep the footprints and check through the wardrobe and under a torn and faded couch. A desk with two missing legs listed near a small window. The second building he'd entered earlier had been clean, dust-free, had pallets across the floor for beds. This room was rank and filthy, a testament that no one had spent any degree of time in this room. But maybe, today, they had watched. Was someone else in play on this hunt? Someone they had yet to meet?
Walking back to the prints, Dean crouched down to study them. Taking a sip of water, he swallowed, then rasped out, "From these, what can you tell about who made them?"
Wilu joined Dean beside the footprints, his eyes sharp and face serious. "The person who walked here was small, weighed about one-twelve, one-fifteen. Likely a woman. The shoeprint is smaller, size six or seven, slender with a narrowed toe. Men's shoes are wider, blunt. Considering the weight and shoe size, I'd put her about five-foot-three or four. She's probably a dancer."
Dean glanced up. "Dancer?"
Wilu nodded. "Her walk puts less weight on her heel and more on the toe, typical of dancers."
"Nice," Dean whispered with a smile. He'd figured female, a buck and change, light, probably about five-foot-four or five. He'd missed the dancer angle.
"Dean!"
Turning, he glanced out the door as he got to his feet, saying to Wilu, "See what else you can detect about her, all right?"
The young man nodded.
Dean walked from the room and climbed back down the stairs.
"Where'd you go?" Sam asked, frowning.
Instead of answering, Dean merely pointed to the second floor as he popped a second lozenge into his mouth.
"Caleb is close; he should be here in about twenty. He's bringing some of Joshua's potion to give to these guys," Sam indicated the men lying on the floor. "We can question them then get them home."
Dean wanted to weigh in, ask more questions, but his throat was killing him. So he just nodded. When Sam, Joel and Daniel began to converse, he turned and walked slowly out the front warehouse door and lowered himself onto the wooden sidewalk.
"Are you all right?"
Dean turned around to see that his brother had followed him outside.
"Fine," Dean said shortly, waving a hand in front of his throat. Even that bit of communication set his through on fire.
"Painful, huh?" Sam dropped down beside his brother. After taking another look at the injury, he pulled out his phone out and started searching for what to do about throat swelling. After a moment, he looked up and asked, "Are you having trouble breathing?"
Dean shook his head, then shrugged slightly. "A … little."
Sam glanced across the street to the building where the succubus had been. "I'm going to see if there's any ice in there."
Dean snorted, then coughed.
"Hey, from what we saw inside, these guys have been here a couple days at least. Can you imagine being in the desert without ice?" When Dean shrugged, Sam rose and trotted across the dusty street.
Movement from behind had Dean turning around once more.
"Wilu gave us the keys to the Humvee, so me and Isaac are going to bring the vehicles into town," Vince said, walking up behind Dean. "We could use the first aid kit; get more bandages and antibiotics for the wounded inside. And if Sam can't get ice, we've got ice packs in the kit."
Nodding, Dean watched the two men retreat back down the road to where they'd hidden their transportation. His throat was becoming increasingly painful as he tried to swallow. Opening his mouth, he tried to pull in a breath, but it was like pulling air in through a straw. The heat was making the situation worse. His vision swam a little as he clamored to his feet, thinking he could meet Sam in the building across the road. When he tilted a little, he grasped a nearby post until he felt he could cross the street without keeling over.
Puffs of dust rose with his footfalls, and he could see heat waves in the air. If a tumbleweed blew by just then, he wouldn't have been surprised in the least. The walk was fine until he reached the opposite porch. Then he noticed his vision darkening just a little around the edges.
Dean!
Jerking upright, Dean swung around, then lost his balance and dropped to his knees.
You all right?
Caleb?
You started to black out.
Then shut up and stop yelling in my head, Dean snapped. I wouldn't have fallen if you'd all just shut up.
You fell?
What about shut up wasn't clear?!
Damn, you're cranky when you get strangled. Be there in five.
Sighing, Dean got back on his feet and stomped into the house and right into Sam.
"Whoa," Sam cried, backing up. "Here, sit down. I've got some ice packs for your throat."
Dropping into some random chair, Dean held out a hand, snagged the icepack and held it to his throat. Sighing, he closed his eyes.
"I'm going to heat some water," Sam said. "Heat is supposed to help an inflamed throat better than cold. If I can find some honey, I'll add that."
Snorting slightly, Dean mumbled, "Honey? Here?"
"You never know. Maybe the succubus enjoys tea."
"Asuka."
"What?"
"Name … Asuka."
"Good to know. Maybe I can find something on her," Sam said as he headed back into the kitchen.
Closing his eyes, Dean rested his head against the high back of the hard wooden chair, the ice pack on his throat. Within a minute he sensed someone else nearby and opened his eyes again. Wilu was sitting on the ground, waiting. "Got … to stop that."
"I just sat down, and you sensed me," Wilu observed. Then he smiled.
Pointing to his chest, Dean rasped, "Hunter."
Wilu mimicked the action and said, "Tracker."
Dean grinned.
"Two of the upstairs rooms were disturbed," Wilu reported. "Same person, both times: light, narrow footprint, looks to be wearing a cloak of some kind. One room she stepped just inside, then back out. In the room where we studied her footprint, she went all the way in. Every few steps there was a brush of dust off the floor from the left side. I found that odd until I thought she might be holding something in her right hand, which keeps the right side of the cloak up off the ground. Tracks lead to the window, where they remain for a couple minutes, then she retreats."
"Impressions deeper, more even by the window?" Dean asked.
Wilu nodded. "The prints didn't shift, the outlines didn't blur. So either she stands very still, or she didn't stand there long."
"Who are we talking about?"
Dean merely held up a hand, and Sam placed a glass into it.
"Someone on the second floor of the large building," Wilu supplied.
"You saw someone up there?" Sam demanded, staring at Dean.
Dean shook his head as he sipped the warm water. Jerking back, he eyed the drink.
"I couldn't find honey, so I put in apricot jam."
Wilu looked interested at that and leaned forward to peer more closely at the glass.
"Seriously?" Dean murmured, lifting the glass and giving it the eye.
Sam shrugged. "So, you saw someone?"
Dean just waved a hand at Wilu, who told Sam about the likely presence of a woman on the top floor of the warehouse building. As he finished, they heard the sound of a vehicle engine out in the street.
"Stay here and keep the ice on your throat," Sam ordered Dean. "I'll see who it is."
"Bossy," Dean rasped.
Wilu smiled. Clamoring to his feet, he followed Sam outside.
Caleb was climbing from the front passenger door of the SUV. All he said to Sam was, "Where?"
Sam pointed to the house and Caleb disappeared inside.
Smiling, Sam shook his head. He'd long gotten used to Caleb rushing past him to get to Dean, especially when Dean was injured. During their early years as the Brotherhood leadership, he had to admit Caleb's tendency to brush past him to get to Dean had rankled a bit. After all they'd been through, they were finally the Triad of the Brotherhood. They were a team together; couldn't Caleb see that? But when he'd thought it through, had considered the dynamics involved, he realized he really didn't mind. He and Caleb had a different relationship, not only as people but as Scholar and Knight. Since they were children, Dean and Caleb had been best friends. Maybe that dynamic only strengthened the inherent bond between Guardian and Knight. He'd seen that bond somewhat in his father and Pastor Jim, but more profoundly in Ethan Matthews and Gideon Lane; had read about the closeness between Julian Smith and Maxim Sawyer. And the bond between JT and Max grew stronger daily; from when they were children and even more now as Guardian and Knight of the Triad-to-be. But he and Dean had their own bond, forged in the small hands of a four-year-old boy who had carried his baby brother from a burning house. That bond was as unbreakable as steel. Even though he'd attempted to sever it numerous times in his youth, it had remained a shining cord that forever bound him to Dean. How could he begrudge Caleb running past him to get to Dean, when Dean would have charged past everyone to get to him?
Walking over to where Matt was standing beside Wilu and LaKeesha, he said, "You guys made good time. Isn't the drive from Preston to Warm Springs typically an hour and a half? You made it in fifty minutes."
"George told us about some shortcuts," Matt said, grimacing slightly. "The ride was not the smoothest on record."
Wilu smiled. "Trackers know hidden routes."
"Ones that aren't easy to navigate," Matt groused. "My backside is going to ache for a week."
"Wouldn't if you'd let me drive," LaKeesha stated loftily.
"The directions were complicated," Matt countered. "I'm a better navigator."
"Only because you won't let me drive!"
"Who got us lost outside Wichita? Who drove to Marfa and we ended up outside Austin?"
"Marfa?" Sam interjected.
"Only one of the most remote towns in the United States," LaKeesha stated, throwing Matt a nasty look. "Everyone gets lost going there."
"I didn't," Matt retorted.
"Okay," Sam interrupted before they could continue what had obviously been a long debate between them, "How's Emanuel?"
"Great," LaKeesha said, "especially since we found Chen alive."
"What?" Sam exclaimed. "Chen's alive? Why didn't you say so?"
"Caleb sent a text," Matt said.
"Guess strangulation makes a person forget to check their phone," LaKeesha said, swallowing a snort of laughter.
Assuming Caleb had sent the text to Dean, Sam rolled his eyes. "Caleb should have sent me one too."
Matt and LaKeesha's eyes met.
"He did," Sam said, pulling his phone from his pocket. Seeing the text notification, he sighed. "Guess strangulation does make a person forget to check their phone. What happened?"
Matt and LaKeesha took turns explaining what had happened in Las Vegas and near Preston, concluding with the fact that Chen needed to be stabilized before being moved to a medical center.
"They'll notify Ben and have someone meet Chen at the hospital. They'll head south to Mesquite," LaKeesha said, "It's the closest city of size that will have a decent medical center."
"Once Chen is set up, Emanuel will stay with him and George will bring Joshua here," Matt finished.
"We have some of Joshua's de-programming potion," LaKeesha said, holding up a vial.
"That's not much for six people," Sam observed.
"Six?" Matt said, frowning. "Why did the succubus leave so many?"
"Why leave any at all," LaKeesha stated.
"Good question," Sam said. "Head on into the large building. The others are inside. I'll check on Dean and we'll be over. I'm very interested in seeing if any one of them has the answer."
.
"Damn, Deuce," Caleb whistled, leaning over to view Dean's swollen and puffy neck. "You learned to duck years ago. What happened?"
Dean snorted, then coughed.
"Drink…" Caleb frowned at the glass he'd just lifted. "What the hell is in this water?"
"Jam," Dean hissed painfully. "No honey."
"Whatever works," Caleb reflected, handing over the glass.
Dean reached around the glass and tapped Caleb's eye, frowning.
"Ouch," Caleb groused, touching his tender eye. The redness of a few hours earlier had faded, replaced by a faint purpling under the skin. "Emanuel got in a good shot when he was enthralled." Shrugging, he quipped, "I went easy on him."
Grinning, Dean took the glass.
"Joshua will be here soon, and he can make a poultice or something to reduce the swelling. For now, I'm going to get more ice."
Dean grunted, watching his friend retreat to the kitchen. Smiling, he shook his head. Some things never changed. Cautiously he took another sip of his jam-infused water. Eyeing the glass, he thought that jam really wasn't a bad substitute for honey; sweeter too.
"Here," Caleb said, returning with a fresh towel filled with ice. "What room was the succubus in?"
"Second door … on right."
"I'm going up to give it a look, see if she left anything behind. It's a remote possibility, but you never know. You keep that ice on your throat."
Caleb climbed the stairs two at a time and cautiously traversed the hall, ears open and eyes alert to any movement. If the succubus was curious about them enough to hang around to get a peek, maybe she'd come back. As possibilities went, remote was all they had at the moment.
Listening outside the second door on the right, Caleb used his abilities to sweep the room before he stepped inside.
The bed was covered in an elegant comforter and blankets. A lush pillow in a satin case finished off the graceful resting place. The succubus had made a nice nest for herself here, he mused. Moving to the wardrobe, he looked inside.
Several dresses and a couple cloaks hung on one side of the large wood armoire; on the other hung a few modern skirts, low-necked shirts and a pair of hip-hugger jeans. A dozen pairs of shoes were placed neatly along the floor next to a stack of boxes. Pulling the boxes from the wardrobe, he lifted the lid on a couple and saw papers and a few photographs. Instead of examining them further, he placed those near the door. Dean would want to go through them as well.
Near the window stood a dresser. Caleb made short work of going through the drawers before he hefted the boxes into his arms and retreated downstairs where Sam was handing Dean another glass of water.
Looking up, Sam asked, "When's Joshua due?"
"When he finishes with Chen," Caleb replied, setting the boxes down on a small dining room table. "I found these in the wardrobe. There are papers inside, though I'm sure nothing they'll lead anywhere."
"Maybe she slipped up," Sam said, going to the boxes and opening the lid of the one on top.
"Possible, but after decades or centuries, I doubt it," Caleb remarked. "She left everything; clothes and shoes in the wardrobe, items in the dresser. Everything generic and untraceable except for one item: a pure silk kimono."
"She's Japanese," Sam supplied. "Dean said her name was Asuka. I did a very quick Google search. The only Asuka I could find was a concubine of Japanese Emperor Kokaku in 1798. It will take a lot more research to find anything else, as concubines were not considered worthy of documentation in the Japanese culture."
"That's her," Dean rasped.
"The kimono?" Caleb said, lifting the delicate silk fabric.
Dean nodded, taking another sip of water. "She left it deliberately."
"She wants us to know who she is," Sam said, looking from Dean to Caleb. "Why does that sound bad?"
"Because," Caleb said, "She's calling out the Brotherhood.
.
TBC
NOTES:
Joel's reference to fruit was from The Chaos Tree.