Chapter 10

"Dad, I think we're going to need Mom's help." Lyra spoke as she turned the steaks on the barbeque.

"Och no, lass. We dinna need her help."

Lyra smiled at hearing her father's Highland accent grow stronger. As it always did when he got upset. She knew it would be a sensitive topic but she had to voice it.

"But no one is better at protective spells and you have to admit, she's a powerful witch."

"I know but we don't exactly work well together anymore do we?" Jim argued. "I don't think it would help."

"I think she'd like to help. Or at least be asked. This could be closure for her too." Lyra looked directly at her father, blue eyes imploring.

"Damn," he muttered. She had him. She knew it.

"I'll call her right now, okay? It's 11pm in Rome."

With a deep sigh, he aquiesced, taking the barbeque fork from his only remaining daughter. Kissing him quickly on the cheek she grabbed the cordless phone from the table.

oo00oo

"You keep shifting around, Sam." Dean sat next to his brother at the end of the dock looking out over the lake. "One minute you suspect them of invoking evil and the next you think that we're all after the same demon that killed our loved ones."

"I know," Sam sighed skipping a flat stone out onto the lake's surface. "I know that they're not evil. I just… I'm afraid of what they're capable of. They are summoning demons."

"They've also been able to subjugate and destroy them," Dean pointed out. "That takes some serious skill, pal."

"So far! So far, they've been able to destroy what they've summoned. Now they're after the great white. How long do you think their luck will hold?"

"I don't think it's got anything to do with luck."

Sam looked at Dean. "What do you think it's got to do with?"

"I think a very long history of Celtic magic makes them able to do this thing."

"Come on," Sam laughed sceptically.

"I think they are strong, Sam. Stronger than they let on to you and me."

"You have a lot of faith."

Laughing Dean replied, "Look at me. With the faith already?"

"Do you love her?"

Dean grew immediately quiet, his eyes downcast staring at the lake's surface trying to hide any emotion from his brother.

"I don't know, Sam."

"Well, how do you feel when you're around her? More importantly, how do you feel when you're not around her?"

"I feel…" Dean couldn't go there. He wasn't capable of talking about his feelings. "She's certainly cast a spell on me."

"You feel confused but at the same time complete conviction? You feel high and low? You can't eat, you can't sleep?"

"D. All of the above."

"That's no spell, Dean."

oo00oo

"My mother's coming from Italy tomorrow," Lyra announced as she entered the dining room.

"Fabulous," Jim said sarcastically as he put a steak on each person's plate.

Smirking as she sat down to the table, passing the potatoes to Dean. "Try to be welcoming, Dad."

"Will do, love." Attempting a sincere smile at his daughter, Jim stuffed a napkin into the neck of his shirt and began carving his steak.

"This is really good," said Dean mouth half full of steak.

"Thank you. It was a team effort," said Jim crediting Lyra for part of the meal. Until she'd had to phone that bitch in Italy, he thought.

"She's looking forward to meeting you both," Lyra said to Dean and Sam. "Especially you, Sam."

"Why Sam?" Dean asked, not quite hiding the injury in his voice.

"She's seen Sam."

"Your mother lives in Italy?" Sam asked.

"She's seen you in a vision. She sensed your abilities and thinks you and she can work together in this. She's looking forward to training you."

"Training me?"

"Yes, encouraging your psychic abilities."

"Oh," was all Sam could manage.

"She'll try to seduce you, lad." Jim warned.

"Dad! Please!"

Dean merely laughed. He'd thought his family had some dysfunctional Sunday night dinners.

"That's a terrible thing to say," Lyra gave her father a reprimanding look. "Let's all try to get along, alright? We've got a job to do."

With that they all fell to eating. They'd need their strength in the task that lay ahead.

oo00oo

Lyra stood at the International Arrivals gate of Logan Airport surprised at how nervous she felt. She was waiting for her own mother, she told herself, why was she nervous? Remembering the last time she'd seen her mother, it had been almost a year ago. Before she and Dad had taken up looking for Katie.

She'd visited her mother in Rome. It had been a good visit. Lyra loved Rome and had wandered its streets for days. She'd taken day trips by train to places like Pompeii to see the ghostly excavations of the ash-buried city. Her mother had even taken a few days off so they could take the ferry out to Capri and make a proper vacation of it. It had been nice.

But then her mother had immersed herself in her work again. Barely sparing time for meals in the evenings with Lyra sampling some of Rome's fabulous restaurants. More importantly, Lyra had hoped her mother would have spent more time training her. Teaching her some of the skills that would have made hunting this damn demon easier. Now in hindsight, she wished she had spent more time there. Maybe taken her up on her offer to work along side her?

Instead Lyra had returned to the States to help her father look for Katie. By then they knew she was in serious trouble and an intervention was required.

A tall, stunning brunette strode through the Arrivals gate pulling a small suitcase on wheels. Dressed impeccably with a scarf tied around her head pulling her long hair back from her face she looked like a mature model straight out of a 70s European fashion magazine.

Her ample mouth curved upwards in a loving smile as she spotted her daughter. Arms spread wide, Lyra stepped into her mother's embrace. An embrace like no other, Lyra inhaled her mother's scent, felt her soft wavy hair against her face, pressed against her warm body.

After several long moments, other travellers passing them by, they pulled apart.

"Hi, Mom." Lyra said simply.

"Hello darling," her mother's Spanish accent strong as ever. She placed a kiss on Lyra's forehead before grabbing her suitcase and following her daughter to the exit.

oo00oo

"That's the most insane plan I have ever heard," Lyra's mother stated after hearing Jim and Lyra explain their plot to capture and kill the demon.

"Well, I wouldna expect any confidence from you, Sophia." Jim shot back.

"Please Mom. Just hear us out. Why don't you think it will work?"

"A rag-tag band of mages? Destroying a powerful demon? You will be incinerated before you know what hit you," Sophia warned.

"Rag-tag! Who're you calling rag-tag woman?" Jim's voice was rising.

"Please," Lyra interjected. "Can we not do this?"

"Our 'band of mages' as you call them," Jim continued, "has a pagan lineage stretching back to the Druids of Mona. Our coven can summon the most powerful demon out there!"

"Summon maybe," Sophia responded coolly. "And then what do you do with the creature once it's here? Simply cut off its head?"

Scoffing Sophia rose from the table, she'd heard enough.

"You have any better ideas?" Jim asked.

Sophia turned to contemplate her ex-husband, leaning against the kitchen counter.

"What do you think this monster will do once he's summoned? Kneel before you, neck outstretched for chopping?"

Jim's expression darkened. He hated it when she was right. Quite simply, he hated her.

"Have you got your thirteen?" Sophia asked.

"We do now. Yes."

"Who are they?"

"Well, myself and Lyra, my three cousins from Scotland, you know them." Sophia nodded as Jim continued, "George and Constance from Glastonbury, as well as the MacTavish's from Wales."

"I see," Sophia grabbed a wineglass pouring herself some Cab Sauvignon from the bottle on the kitchen counter. "That's only ten."

"Well now there's yourself of course and the Winchester lads."

Sipping the wine Sophia cocked an eyebrow inquisitively at Lyra. "Who are these Winchester lads?" her Spanish accent negotiating the name awkwardly.

Clearing her throat Lyra replied, "Their names are Sam and Dean. You mentioned seeing Sam, the psychic one, during your meditations."

"Yes, of course." Sophia recalled, "and Dean?"

"Well, they're kind of soldiers…no, more like mercenaries. Helping people, fighting evil spirits."

"They do this for money?"

"Well, no. Maybe mercenary is the wrong word." Lyra was grasping.

"Vaqueros," Sophia suggested.

"No, Mom. They're not cowboys."

"Winchester…" Sophia reflected on the name while swirling her red wine in its glass. "They sound like cowboys."

Exasperated, Lyra looked to her father. Jim having heard enough himself, rose from the table and wandered into the living room in search of his scotch bottle.

Author's note: I picture Lyra's mother, Sophia, as being an older Penelope Cruz. Mid to late 40s, long dark brown hair, heavy Spanish accent. Very sexy and a bit aloof. Lyra gets her dark hair and blue eyes combo from the Scottish side of the family.