"Is there a good reason why we had to meet here and not somewhere warm?"
Dean handed Sam a coffee, Sam took the cup and cradled it in his cold hands.
"This is where it happened," Dean told him, using his own cup to point to the jetty. "What did you find out?"
Sam shook his head, the memory of the dead man still hadn't left him.
"They died of fright."
"Of what?"
"Of fright, Dean. You should have seen him, his face was still fixed into a scream."
"Gruesome."
"They're still looking for a scientific reason."
Dean laughed. "Good luck to them."
"Yeah, but we're not much better off. There's not that much out there, we still don't know if we're dealing with a ghost ship or something else, and none of the pieces seem to fit. "
"Well, I have one more piece of the jigsaw, one girl heard a voice – 'The hour has come but not the man'."
Sam shrugged. "Well, it's one more thing I can search for, but I tell you, I have no idea what we're dealing with."
Dean shoved his hands in his pockets and squinted out into the mist.
"Well, for now we'll just have act as if it's a ghost ship, you..."
"It's not a ghost ship."
Both men spun round to find the new speaker. The woman Dean had seen leave the diner sat on the sea wall above them. Her black hair floated about her face as if she was floating in water, not sitting on a stone wall in winter with her leather coat wrapped around her against the chill, she wore jeans and DMs and dangled her legs almost like a child on a swing. Most importantly...
"You weren't there a second ago," Dean told her.
"Yes I was, I've been here longer than you. I just didn't want to be seen." She answered, her voice was deep and English, with a touch of something rustic.
"You're a witch." Sam said.
She looked uncomfortable with the term.
"My family never strayed from the old ways," she replied.
"An hereditary witch," Sam answered.
She sighed. "If you must." She slipped off the wall in one fluid motion to stand by the brothers. "I'm Evie."
Dean took her offered hand, and flashed her the smiled he reserved for all attractive women.
"Dean," he turned slightly, ready to introduce his brother, but her eyes widened.
"You're never Sam?" She asked the younger man, frowning, he nodded. "Good Lord! You're John Winchester's boys!"
"You know Dad?" Dean asked.
"Well, 'know' is rather an ambitious word when it comes to your father," she told him. "I met him down the Keys a couple of months ago, was he ever full of it for you two."
"He was?" Dean liked Evie more each minute.
"What was he doing there?" Sam asked.
Instantly Evie frowned. Her blue eyes seemed to change hue. "Why? Don't you know?"
"We haven't seen Dad in over six months, barely heard from him either."
Evie considered the two men a moment, she had a strange habit of just looking to one side of them that Sam found disconcerting. "I see, well he failed to mention that. I met him because we'd both gone after the same demon. It was odd, he didn't want to kill it, only to talk to it."
Dean and Sam looked at each other uncomfortably.
"That doesn't sound like him." Dean told her.
"No, it didn't sit comfortably with him, but it had information John needed apparently." Suddenly she laughed. "Dean, you maybe made for the coast, but your brother's suffering, let's find somewhere warm."
She led the way back into town.
"So, you sound like you know what's been attacking these people," Dean said as he kept up with her.
She looked around to make sure they could both hear her.
"It's those words that clinches it, though I suspected it from the start. It's no wonder you couldn't find anything on it Sam, it's very specific to my home. There are stories of the black ship coming to carry away the souls of the wicked right around the coast, the ship, the cloud, the storm, the words, all the same. The next question is what a Cornish legend is doing on the other side of the Atlantic."
"You saying that ten wicked men died the other day?" Sam asked.
"No," she frowned. "Nine innocent men, and one questionable man died. Neville Blakelock was involved in smuggling. Did you pick that up about the other deaths?" She asked, and as she looked round Sam noticed her eyes had changed again, now a lighter, clearer blue.
"Pick up what?" Dean asked, when Sam remained silent.
"That the men who died in the other towns were all smugglers. They smuggled different things, but they all did it."
"No," Dean replied, with a glance at Sam. "We didn't pick that up."
She shrugged, "Well, I've been working this a bit longer I guess."
She lead the way into a coffee shop and waved to the waitress, who smiled back as if she was a long lost friend.
Evie took off her coat, the lining flashed an iridescent blue and gold. Around her neck was an odd piece of silver jewelry, like a bangle only for her neck, made of a few twisted silver wires and ended on each side by a horses head.
Sam was uncomfortable. There was something about this woman but he couldn't say what. He was sure she wasn't evil, but her attitude, her confidence, he found a little off putting.
"So, how do we stop this thing?" Dean asked.
"That's just the thing," she sighed. "No one's ever needed to before. When the Black Ship shows up locals are thankful, it means the end of someone's tyranny. We don't know where it comes from, when it began, only that it exists."
They waited as the waitress brought coffee over for Dean and Sam, a pot of tea was placed in front of Evie.
"Thanks, Margot."
The woman smiled again.
"Karen's out back, she said she wanted to talk to you. She'll be out in a while."
Once she'd gone, Dean picked up the thread.
"Whatever this thing's done in the past, it's killing now, and we have to stop it."
"I agree," she answered. "But first we have to figure out why it's killing."
"May be we're looking at this wrong," Sam said. He leaned forward and instinctively the others followed suit. "We've been looking at this as if the ship's hunting. Well, what if it's just collecting?"
"What's the difference?" Dean asked.
"No," Evie replied. "No, he's right. The ship is looking for someone. The same person."
"Someone who's figured out how to avoid it," Sam completed.
"It makes sense," Evie said, pouring her tea. He saw that she had slim tattoos of a celtic design around both wrists. "It even explains why ten were taken last time, it's trying to make sure it gets it's man."
"So, not much intelligence then," Dean said.
"No, it's almost mechanical. It's logical, it's picked up six men and none of them were the right one, so this time it took the one, plus the nine nearest. I bet if we looked we'd find that Blakelock was in the centre of the group. Good thinking, Sam…why don't you like me?"
Her directness threw him for a loop.
"I don't…don't like you," he stuttered. "I…"
She put her head to one side and grinned suddenly, her emotions seemed to change as capriciously as the weather.
"Would it help if I told you I can see auras? That's how I can tell how you're feeling. Look, I know we've hit the ground running here and you haven't had time to find out about me. Give me a chance, okay? Come to my place tonight, I'll cook supper and tell you everything you want to know."
"Evie!"
They all looked to see quite the most beautiful woman walking down from the back of the shop, taking off her apron as she came. Her green eyes focused entirely on Evie, who turned to give her full attention.
"Karen, how are you my hansome?"
"Yeah." She smiled, and sat down on the spare chair Evie pushed out for her. "Good. So, you coming tonight?"
Evie stared at her a beat longer than necessary.
"I can't," she finally said, regretfully, and pushed away a strand of red hair from Karen's face. "I have to work."
Karen looked disappointed. She reached out and played with the collar of Evie's top.
"I thought you were singing there tonight. Isn't that your work?"
"This is something else, something I can't avoid."
"I've been really looking forward to tonight," Karen said in a voice that made Dean twitch. Then she leant forward and whispered in Evie's ear, what ever she said it made Evie close her eyes in pain.
"I really can't make it," she finally forced out of herself. "Believe me, I'm hurting me more than you."
"Oh," she said with a wink. "You got that right."
Karen left, and Evie's head sank to the table, where she casually hit it a couple of times.
"I'm a martyr," she said, to no one in particular. She looked up in time to see Karen saunter off down the street. "She's such a pretty thing too." Suddenly she caught Dean's eye. "Be very careful about what you say next."
Dean just shook his head, with a contented smile. "I'm happy in my own thoughts."
Evie clapped her hands smartly and shook them at the wrists.
"Okay, what's the plan of action?"
Dean was still happy in his own world, so Sam answered.
"If the ship's looking for someone, then it's possible in each town there will have been someone who left around the same time."
"That person has to be wicked, so it's likely he'll have attracted more attention than the average bloke," Evie added. "Hey, you with us yet?"
Dean blinked. "Well, the guy at the hotel seemed to know what was going on. I'll ask him."
"There may be police reports," Sam said.
"Oh, good luck," Evie replied. "I hate messing with those – too many questions. There are a couple of reporters I know who've followed this story around the coast, I'll see if they've heard anything."
"What I don't get," Dean said, after taking a sip of his coffee. "Is why this dude would even stay by the coast. I mean, if a ship is looking to drag you off to hell, wouldn't you just go inland?"
Evie's eyes turned deep blue. She looked out at the grey green sea. "Not necessarily," she answered, her voice far away. "Some people can't bear being far away from the water…Shit, I have to make some phone calls. Why didn't I…" she got up suddenly and put on her coat. "I'll pay you later Margot! I've got to go, if you follow the road out of town, look for the first field on your left, that's where I'm parked."
She was gone in a swirl of black leather and blue satin.
"Well that's interesting," Dean said, draining his mug. "You don't trust her?"
Sam frowned. "It's not that, she's just…I don't know. It's like she's too familiar. Like she's always known us."
"She can see auras," Dean explained, shrugging.
"May be," he answered non-committedly. he took his jacket from the back of the chair. "She reminds me of someone, I just can't think who."
Dean passed his cell over. "Ring dad."
"What?"
"Go on, ring him. Tell him we've met her and ask if we can trust her."
"Like we'll get an answer," Sam replied, but he still took the phone.
"If he thinks she's dangerous, he'll let us know," Dean insisted, stubbornly.
"Dean, he didn't ring when you were dying!"
The two brothers glared at each other.
"Just make the call," Dean said through his teeth. Sam made the call.