Chapter 8

Sam and Dean crept quietly down the slope through the darkness, taking cover behind a large family tombstone. From here they could see the coven creating its ritual circle. Eight people in long, dark cloaks walking in a circle holding candles. Except Mitch, he carried a sword.

"The high priest," whispered Sam.

Dean saw Lyra. Her cloak blew back in the night breeze rewarding him with a view of her stunning legs. Black mini skirt and fishnet tights, black leather boots to her knees. She carried an athame, a Wiccan ritual dagger.

"Lyra's the priestess." Dean whispered back.

"They're casting the circle," Sam said watching the group stop walking and face each other while Mitch walked behind them tracing the tip of the sword lightly along the ground.

Mitch joined Lyra in the centre of the circle. Two others stepped towards them as Lyra pointed her athame skyward towards the treetops and spoke in a clear voice:

Oh spirit guardian of the North,
Ancient one of the earth,
I call thee to come forth and charge this circle,
with the power of three and rock.

The other three called to their respective corners: East, West and South. Everyone in the circle turning to face the direction called upon.

Lyra spoke again and Dean snuck a look from behind the stone monument. A cool northerly breeze rustled the leaves overhead, blowing her dark hair back exposing her beautiful neck. Her skin was like alibastair: smooth and white. He remembered what it had tasted like.

Lyra's voice rang out again northward:


Charge this circle with your power, Old Ones, for as above, so below.

oo00oo

Sam and Dean crouched silently for half an hour watching the Wiccan ceremony. So far it had been pretty standard fare. Calling the Corners, Drawing down the Moon, Invoking the Goddess.

Then came the interesting part: Invoking the God. Normal, peaceful Wiccan ritual usually involved calling upon the 'Horned God, Guardian of all things wild and free'. Yadda, yadda, yadda. Dean had heard several variations but they were all similar.

Tonight, in this particular cemetary this particular coven had called on Abrasax the Insatiable. Very interesting. A lesser demon to be sure, as demon hierarchy goes, but certainly a formidable harbinger of evil. He hadn't shown up yet but with the circle still intact and everyone chanting his name, the invitation was still out there.

"Dean," whispered Sam. "Lyra doesn't look so good."

Dean carefully peeked out from behind the headstone. She'd stopped chanting with the rest of the coven and was actually no longer standing. She knelt in the grass, eyes closed. He could see the sheen of sweat on her brow from here and she seemed to be breathing irregularly.

Shaking his head at Sam he was at a loss to explain her physical deterioration. In the distance, they heard the approaching thunder.

Sam ducked his head as a raven flew in to land on the headstone they were hiding behind. Dean felt the rush of air as the great bird flapped its wings coming to a stop. It squawked loudly.

"Shit!" whispered Sam.

Dean pulled a switchblade from his pocket and tried poking at the raven's tough feet with it. Trying to get it to fly off to another perch. Maybe with all the Abrasax-chanting no one would notice.

The raven was now hopping up and down atop the tombstone flapping its wings.

Crouched beneath it, Dean looked up at the ebony bird as it cocked its head. One great gold eye looked down at him. "Fuck off!" Dean said quietly but urgently.

The bird cried out louder than ever.

oo00oo

Lyra was vaguely aware of the scuffle. She'd heard the raucous raven and felt Mitch and Vince break the circle to go investigate. She thought there had been a fight. Mitch was big enough to overpower Sam threatening to run him through with his sword. This in turn coerced Dean into submission and he'd turned over his handgun.

Both brothers were brought back to the circle and made to kneel before the bonfire with their hands bound behind their backs.

She needed to find the ley line and fast if she was going to re-energize and help them out of this. She should have known he'd follow her tonight.

"Now this is what I'm talking about!" Mitch was telling the coven. "We've summoned all the secondary demons we can using the abilities available to us."

He cast a look down at Lyra, still kneeling with her head bowed on her heaving chest, eyes closed.

"If we're going to attain more power, we need more powerful contacts!" Mitch was pacing around the circle like a mad dog now. "And those kind of contacts aren't going to show unless we take our devotion to the next level."

Mitch stopped behind Sam and Dean, his sword reflecting the firelight. "Human sacrifice."

"I knew you were going to say that," said Dean rolling his eyes.

"Dean, shut up," advised Sam.

Where was the fucking ley line? Lyra thought wildly. She specifically picked this spot in the cemetary because of its proximity. Focus. Come on. She heard the thunder crack overhead and felt the earth rise to meet it. The river was rising. She knew it. The line ran alongside the riverbank, she invoked it. Feeling its power course through her she raised her head giving Dean a wink.

Rising in one fluid motion, Lyra thrust her hand out towards Mitch's raised sword.

"What the fuck, Lyra?" was all anyone heard Mitch say before the deafening crash. Lightning hit a nearby oak, sending baseball bat-sized splinters flying overhead.

People were thrown to the ground by the force of the bolt. Dean sprang to his feet, throwing both bound fists crashing into Mitch's jaw. Mitch, already staggering from the impact of the lightning, fell from the blow.

Grasping her athame, Lyra cut Sam and Dean's bonds quickly. Sam grabbed Mitch's fallen sword while Dean recovered his gun. The three of them started to run.

oo00oo

"This way!" Dean was leading them towards the small walking bridge spanning the river.

"No!" Lyra stopped running, grasping both men's arms to halt them as well.

"There's a bridge right there." Dean insisted.

"I know but the river's rising. Fast. It's going to be swept away."

"Going to be!" Dean looked at her like she was crazy. She couldn't blame him really.

"There's an exit to the road over here." Lyra pointed in the other direction.

Exchanging quick glances, the brothers decided to trust her.

oo00oo

Winded from running, the three made it to the east entrance of the cemetary. As they passed through the stone and iron gates they slowed to a walk. Outside, the road was quiet and dark. The thunderstorm seemed to have dissipated as quickly as it had begun.

"I forget where we parked." Dean joked breathlessly.

Lyra didn't laugh. She was looking down the road at something. Her eyes widened.

"What is it?" asked Sam.

Lyra responded by raising her hand and intoning something in Latin. Dean couldn't catch all the words but it sounded protective. What the hell was on the road that scared her so much? She'd barely flinched when the lightning had blasted the tree in the cemetary to bits.

Dean and Sam looked down the road. The river had flooded its banks, just as Lyra had predicted but that wasn't the really creepy part. Floating just above the raging water was a black mist. It seemed to be taking shape and moving towards them.

Taking Mitch's sword from Sam, Lyra fell to her knees pressing her head to the hilt rapidly invoking a protection spell. Casting an arc with the sword ahead of the three of them, Dean thought he saw the air wavering in the moonlight. Like one of those optical illusions you see over the blacktop on a really hot day. As though a protective barrier rose from the road between themselves and the black mist.

The mist was still creeping closer and taking form. A head was almost recognizable atop a tall body. Horns seemed to sprout from the head and what the fuck? Were those cloven feet?

The vaporous creature was about ten feet away when it stopped and spoke. Dean looked at Sam who was straining to understand the language. It was both unintelligible but vaguely familiar. They'd heard it before. Maybe on a hunt with Dad?

Lyra was still invoking protection but her voice sounded less and less confidant. Her knuckles white around the hilt of the sword. She looked and sounded scared. Shit, Dean wished he had his 12 gauge. He raised his handgun taking aim at the demon.

A blinding white light lit up the road. It came from behind them. Another lightning bolt? No, there was no explosion of sound. A booming voice incanting something, not Latin, even older. One of the biblical languages, maybe?

Suddenly all was dark again.

"Dean?" Sam's voice was small in the vastness of the night.

"Right here, bro."

"Lyra's gone."