Chapter 8

Scotts Mills, Willamette Valley, Oregon

Consciousness returned with a painful awareness of a full bladder, and Ellie stifled a groan at the idea of getting up. Against her back, Dean was still and sleeping deeply and she didn't want to wake him, their talk leaving her with the contradictory feelings of both a much stronger trust and faith in each other and a gossamer fragility in lives bound to chains of fate that seemed to have no ending.

She eased herself off the edge of the bed and walked to the bathroom, closing the door and sighing in relief as her bladder emptied. Her size, shape and lack of balance were all hard to bear, the constant emotional surges, the odd desires for foods not in season or not in this country or never having existed difficult to cope with or explain, but the worst was the constant need to pee, whether or not the need was real or just their son making himself comfortable against her organs.

Turning on the shower, she waited for the water to heat, wondering if it was going to be safe to send Cassie to Lawrence. Missouri wouldn't mind the imposition but whether or not it would be safe enough to put the editor there was another question.

On her palm, the water beat hot and strong and Ellie stepped under the flow, revelling in the sensations, in the massage against her back and shoulders and neck and scalp. Cassie wasn't really the problem, she knew. Just the symptom. More and more the feeling of something wrong, just out of sight, glimpsed only in the extreme periphery of vision, was making her anxious. She didn't think it was the pregnancy or the prospect of labour. She was sure it wasn't anything to do with Dean or their relationship, but not so sure there wasn't a connection, somehow. Taking the shampoo from the shelf, she squirted a handful into her hair and swore under her breath.

It couldn't be connected. It was just a background bad feeling that was being blown into apocalyptic proportions by the hormones. The sooner she accepted that and put it bed, the better off they'd all be.

Thirty minutes later, she stood in the kitchen, spooning coffee into the filter pot in clean jeans and cashmere sweater and feeling a thousand percent more grounded. Today, she and Talya could set up searches through the academic sites for any mention of the rituals to the Leviathan's bowl, then she could spend a few hours going through the boxed up books from the Thompsons Falls house.

The peace of the early morning was broken by the sound of the engine as it rumbled down the drive, and Ellie looked out the window, frowning as she saw a pale blue truck go past.

Dean walked into kitchen, and stopped by the window. "Who was that?"

"I don't know." Ellie reached for the long carving knife in the island counter's rack, drawing it out and letting the blade reset against her thigh. She saw Dean reach back and touch the grip of the Colt, tucked into the back of his jeans. He lifted a hand, two straight fingers pointing to the hall.

Ellie backed out of the kitchen and into the hall, watching the back porch and the French doors into the kitchen from it obliquely. She could see Dean, waiting by the island.

"Good morning."

Ellie glanced right and saw Cassie, halfway down the stairs. "Stay there."

The front door opened and Katherine walked in, her gaze flicking up to Cassie, dismissing her, then swinging back to Ellie.

"I'm back."

"Where's Frank?"

There was something off, aside from the fact that Katherine looked too healthy for someone who'd recently been shot. She'd always been a reserved woman, never casual.

"He said something about the signal quality and peeled off a couple of miles back." Katherine walked toward Ellie, smiling. "He said he'd come by later."

"Where's Dean?" Cassie said, continuing down the stairs, a frown drawing her brows together as she watched the conversation.

"Cassie, stay there," Dean said, walking out of the kitchen. "SOP, Katherine."

He pulled his switchblade from his jean pocket and held it out on his palm.

She turned her head then pivoted toward him mid-stride. "Yeah. Sure."

Time slowed, everything in Ellie's field of vision, direct and peripheral, continuing in a series of disconnected snapshots. Dean's knife blade snapped out and he took a long stride toward Katherine. Cassie reached the bottom of the stairs. And Katherine spun around, her arm swinging out as her long, sideways step brought her within a foot.

The kitchen knife flashed in the sunlight as Ellie brought it up and ducked, slicing through Katherine's forearm. Black ooze began to drip out. Katherine kept turning, hissing with pain, her speed much faster than Ellie could match, and she felt the monster get behind her, her wrist caught and held as if by a vice with one hand, Katherine's arm hooked around her neck, the inside of the elbow joint cutting off her blood supply and air. The Leviathan's thumb drove into her tendon, and Ellie dropped the knife as the nerves were paralysed. She was dragged back through the living room door toward the hall, Katherine's breath hot on her cheek. Dean's expression was cold and hard as he followed them, three or four paces behind.

Behind Ellie's shoulder, Dean watched the face that had been Katherine's distort, stretching and discolouring. The mouth opened wide, revealing a packed array of long teeth and a forked tongue, that flicked out, delicately touching Ellie's neck.

At his periphery, he was aware of Cassie, rooted to the floor at the bottom of the stairs, staring in horror. He hoped she'd stay there, and not do anything stupid.

"Dean, it's been a while," Katherine said, her voice deeper, rougher.

"Do I know you?" He walked in a straight line toward the Leviathan, wishing he'd had the machetes in the house instead of the little switchblade in his hand or the Colt. Neither were particularly useful in removing a head.

"Sure, yeah. It's Edgar." The voice deepened further to a male's, a hint of Hispanic accent edging the words. "Saw her down in New Orleans, and we nearly had you after that. How did you get away so fast?"

Thick, black blood was dripping from its arm down Ellie's stomach. He spared a second's glance at her, noting her fierce concentration on him. She was waiting for a signal.

"Just good, clean living," he said to the Leviathan. "You still in bed with the alpha vamp?"

The creature threw back its head and laughed. "What a thought. Nah, we've got treats in store for all you two-legs."

"How'd you get Katherine?" he asked, following them into the living room and angling toward the windows. A shadow detached itself from the opposite wall and Dean kept his eyes on Edgar's face.

"She was wounded. Lost some blood. Very careless."

"Uh huh." Dean fixed his gaze on Ellie and saw her tense in response. "So what's the plan?"

"Plan? There's no plan." Edgar's tongue flickered out again. "Kill everyone, leave no traces. I'll be taking this morsel with me, I just love the stuffing."

"Now!"

Ellie dropped straight down, twisting her arm to break Katherine's hold on her wrist, her right arm out to brace herself as she hit the floor on her knees. She rolled to one side, curling up in a ball to stay clear of the action.

Edgar's hold gave at the same time a flash and sibilant hiss arced from behind the Leviathan and his head bounced several times across the room before coming to a rest near Cassie's feet. She skittered backwards, a scream finally breaking free of her throat.

Ellie breathed out a sigh of relief, uncurling and rolling back onto her hands and knees. Baraquiel lowered the sword and held out his hand to her. "Rain barrel for the head."

Dean nodded and picked it up by the long blonde hair, going to the kitchen for the box of industrial borax under the sink.

"What—what was that?" Cassie looked from Dean's back to Ellie.

"That was Leviathan." Baraquiel said.

One of the monsters hunting you," Ellie added, looking at the black blood that covered her side and front. "I need to get this off, and burn my clothes."

"What about the body?" Baraquiel looked back at the creature lying on the floor.

"Uh, there's an old horse trough, down by the garage. Fill it up with a strong solution and put the body in it. If Bezaliel is around, we'll need to scrub the floor here too, and we'll work out a concreting detail later." She rested her hand on his arm. "Thank you."

Dean came out of the kitchen, his head bowed, the borax in one hand, the head in the other. His expression was tight and set as he walked out the front and down the steps.

"Of course." Baraquiel picked up the body, lifting it over his shoulder as goo dripped from the neck and trailed over the floor. Talya and Bezaliel appeared a moment later, and the Watcher went into the kitchen to get cleaning tools while Talya waved Ellie into the downstairs bathroom, a robe over her arm.

Ellie stripped and stepped under the shower, scrubbing at her skin where the blood had touched with a mild borax solution. Through the screen, she saw Talya take her jeans and tee shirt and the sight brought a flash of anger mixed with regret. They were her favourites. She turned off the water and stepped out, drying herself quickly and pulling on the robe. When she returned to the living room, the trail of black blood was gone, and there was no sign there'd ever been a Leviathan in the house.

She turned for the kitchen and followed the sounds to the porch. She was fine, nothing felt wrong. The action had bumped her heartbeat a little, and maybe dropped her blood pressure but both would return to normal.

Dean had pushed the head deep into the barrel and tipped half the borax in on top, the chemical solution bubbling, the black blood thinning and spreading like ink through the water. He was leaning over the railing, breathing fast, his face white.

"Dean?"

He straightened as she walked closer, and met her halfway across the porch, his arms going around her. She turned slightly lean against him.

"This place was supposed to be safe for you." His voice was hoarse against her hair, and she recognised the stress; the reaction he couldn't afford to have earlier kicking in now.

"I don't think Katherine expected to be shot." She lifted her head to look up at him. "But we'd better change the protocols. Phone straight away and no coming home if you do leave any genetic material around. I'll have to find some safe houses—"

He nodded. "You alright? Is the baby alright?"

"Yeah, just a small adrenalin reaction. I need to eat something, I'll be fine."

"We need to find somewhere else for you to stay, Ellie," Dean said, his expression hardening.

"No," Ellie said. She knew what was tormenting him but it would be worse if they were somewhere new, somewhere unknown. "It's safe enough here. We have too much to do and there's no time to move everything, even if I found a suitable place tomorrow. And I'm not going to sit around a motel room all day on my own—even if that were an option, which it's not."

"If one found us…" His eyes closed.

"Doesn't mean others can or will. Edgar knew us—you from Bobby's and me from New Orleans. I'd be willing to bet he didn't pass on what he was doing, because he wanted to take his own action without Roman's interference." She looked up at him, and swallowed her reasoning for that conviction. She was pretty sure he'd already come the same conclusions she had and there was no need to air it out.

"There are any number of ways to find us if something's really determined, you know that."

He let out his breath in a long exhale. "Can we protect this place? Better than it is, I mean?"

"I thought we might try putting down iron around the perimeter. Like the Devil's Trap in Wyoming. Not that scale, of course, but it would help if the demon action gets going." She looked around the quiet garden and wondered if there was any time to cut the zonas into place. She should've thought of it before. "I don't think there's much we can do about the Leviathans, except keep our salt, silver, borax and holy water protocols in place all the time and watch."

"Yeah. We'll do that."

Ellie watched him shake off his fears deliberately, putting his arm around her and turning them toward the door.

"So, we need to concrete the body and head in two separate holes?"

"Yep," she said, relieved to hear the edge gone from his voice. "Pretty deep. I was thinking we might hire one of those little backhoes, maybe even buy one? You can drive one, right?"

Dean snorted. "I can drive anything. Come on, breakfast first."

I-94 W, Montana

"One of the Leviathans found the house at Scotts Mills." Sam closed the phone, leaning against the passenger window. Dean had sounded calm. Not just repressing anger, but actually calm.

"Did it tell the others?" Tricia grimaced, her knuckles whitening around the wheel. "Are they moving?"

"It doesn't seem to have." He looked down at the phone. "Dean thought it was acting on its own."

"Is that likely, Sam?" Chazaquiel said from the back seat.

Sam glanced over his shoulder. Dean had also said it was Edgar, and Edgar had been one of the higher ups in Roman's chain of command. They'd thought Edgar went on his own whenever he could, despite the risk of being bibbed.

"I don't know." Sam sighed, running his hand sharply through his hair. "But no others have turned up, so the odds are improving."

"How did they know it wasn't Katherine?" Adina asked. "What happened?"

"We have a skin test, and Katherine's with Frank and Frank wasn't there," Sam said. "It grabbed Ellie and Baraquiel took its head off."

"Is Ellie alright?" Tricia glanced sideways at him. "And the baby?"

He nodded. Dean would not have been calm at all if there'd been anything wrong with either Ellie or their baby.

"So…" Chaz looked at Sam. "New protocol?"

"Yeah," Sam said and he straightened against the passenger door. "If we leave anything behind: blood, hair, a fingernail, anything, we have to notify them immediately."

"Better not to leave anything behind." Chaz remarked.

Sam glanced at him. "Definitely better."

I-84 N, Utah

Garth closed the phone and looked over at Trent. "Leviathan found the house in Oregon."

Trent's head snapped round to look at him. "Is everyone alright?"

"Yeah, Katherine got shot in South Dakota and the Leviathan used her blood to make a copy, or whatever they do. Turned up at Scotts Mills and Dean and Baraquiel took care of it."

"Katherine got shot? Is she okay?" Trent's questions were sharp.

Garth nodded. He hadn't realised Trent had anything going on with Katherine. "She's with Frank, they're heading back to Oregon now. Dean said she was all right."

Trent shook his head. "So, what do we do about this?"

"New procedure. If we lose any body bits, we have to phone and warn them. And stay away, for awhile anyway. Hole up, become anonymous, wait to hear."

"Okay." Trent nodded. "Yeah, that's a good idea. Did Ellie have any ideas on safe houses? We might need them."

"Dean didn't say, but I'm sure they're working on it," Garth said.

Safe houses, he thought. Were they in intelligence work now? He thought about what they'd been doing and smiled to himself. They were pretty close to it anyway, living a life different from regular people, knowing things those regular people couldn't dream of. The name's Fitzgerald, he thought. Garth Fitzgerald.

"You want me to drive, Garth?"

Garth heard an edge in his voice and looked around. Trent was looking at him with brows raised and Garth realised he might've said the last bit out loud. He smiled sheepishly.

"Nah, I'm good."

"These … Leviathan creatures. They can duplicate people?" Sariel leaned forward from the back seat.

"Yeah. Carbon copies, memories included, apparently," Trent said.

"From anything of the body?" Sariel persisted.

"Anything that contains DNA." Trent glanced back at the Watcher. "Not sure you guys qualify for that."

"That's reassuring to know." Sariel flicked a look at Oran. "The nephilim would have DNA, wouldn't they? Being half human?"

Trent scratched his chin. "I don't know. I would guess so."

"Something we'd have to be careful about then."

"Yeah, something to add to the list." Trent looked at his watch and waved a hand at the road ribboning in front of them. "Another five or so hours and we can check it out with Frank and Ellie. They'll know."

Scotts Mills, Willamette Valley, Oregon

Sam got out of the car, stretching as he put the front seat forward so that Chaz and Adina could get out. Nine hours was too long to be squashed into a seat. He looked over the roof of the car at Tricia, who was also stretching out her neck and back and shoulders.

"Feel like a hot bath?" He grinned at her.

"Definitely." She ducked her head and he saw the beginnings of a flush rising up her neck.

They unloaded the trunk and lugged their gear bags inside the house. Letting the bag down at the base of the stairs, he wondered where he should be the stuff. Probably the basement. Or the barn. Everything needed to be stripped and cleaned and the ammunition and explosives replenished and repacked for the next round. He glanced into the living room and stopped, taking another look as he saw a familiar figure sitting on the long, plush couch. He hadn't seen her since 2006 but there was no mistaking the lush black curls.

Dean came out of the kitchen and looked down at the bags. "Basement."

"I figured either basement or barn." Sam raised an eyebrow at his brother. "So. Plan B?"

"Yep, Plan B coming up."

Sam snorted. "Did I just see Cassie sitting in the living room?"

His older brother made a face. "Yeah. She put two and two together on some of Roman's business deals and started questioning him in public about the centres we've been blowing up. So I told her to get out of there." He glanced in the direction of the living room. "Not one of my better ideas."

Sam raised his brows. "Why?"

"We need to find a place to stash her, 'til this goes away." Dean gave a frustrated looking shrug. "Not that many options."

"You don't want her here?"

"Not enough room here, and too much going on. She's basically a civilian and she saw a Leviathan in all its natural glory today."

"That must have been fun for her." Sam glanced over his shoulder. "So, where?"

"Maybe down with Missouri for a while." He turned away. "Dump your gear in the basement, get something eat, we'll talk later.

Sam's eyes narrowed as he watched his older brother walk away. Dean wasn't telling him the entire story. Most of it, maybe, but not everything.

Ellie pushed her keyboard to one side as Talya approached. Dressed again, this time with a light sweatshirt to keep her warm in the airconditioned basement, she'd messaged everyone to let them know of the Leviathan attack, the new protocols and their current status. Sam and Tricia had come down a couple of hours ago to drop off their gear, both looking worriedly at her. She hoped she'd been reassuring enough.

"It's the last book I could find of his," Talya said as she laid the journal on the desk. She moved the book across close to Ellie.

On the pages, Pen's handwriting was clear.

There is a connection between the lines. It could be a failsafe, to ensure a certain outcome if the first chain fails. Why would God do this?

I have to find the ritual. The bloodlines are critical. So few of those who chose to fall are compatible. I must find their descendants.

The bowl is not safe. It can be found. And if it is found and its secret uncovered, then it won't matter if the Morning Star rises or not. I see now why the myth was perpetuated, never verified. One can search for a myth till the end of Eternity and never gain validation. Will they believe that the ritual exists, or will they come to the correct conclusion as I have, as many have before me. It depends on whether they can believe in the power of imagination, I think. Had I never known humanity, I would have doubted it myself.

Araquiel.

Amaros.

Azazel.

It seemed too melodramatic for the pragmatic Watcher. Too…theatrical. She looked up at Talya. "You're certain there's nothing else?"

Talya nodded, pushing her dark hair back from her face. "I looked for the sources, but I can't find any that relate to this. Baraquiel promised he would check when he got back."

Ellie nodded, looking back down at the book. I see now why the myth was perpetuated. She frowned as she read the line again. A myth perpetuated. A story. A legend, without basis in fact. She straightened in her chair as the meaning hit her. Without basis in fact.

It came to her without fanfare or warning, exactly why Roman hadn't been able to use the bowl. She put her hand to her mouth for a moment, covering a disbelieving snicker. Oh, it was rich…priceless even. And she couldn't tell them, couldn't tell anyone. Not yet. Still, it removed that problem from their immediate agenda.

"This is great, Talya. Thank you."

Talya walked away, and Ellie looked at the three names again. Penemue's notes said they were three of the lines of those who chose to fall. There had been twelve, originally. Listed in the apocryphal Book of Enoch, the leaders of a number of angels who'd chosen to Fall with their Grace, to teach humanity and speed their evolution. She had the list somewhere, she thought.

She knew of Azazel, who had sired the line leading to the Campbells. And Araquiel, she knew that name as well. The boy, Travis, the nephilim who had been one of the seals of Lucifer's cage, his father had been Araquiel. And Castiel had said that the Winchester line had been founded by Araquiel. She'd never heard of Amaros. Writing the names down on a scrap of paper, she wondered when she'd be able to check the names with one of the Watchers, or with Castiel or with both. Baraquiel and Bezaliel had taken her truck for Montana directly after they'd helped Dean to concrete the remains of the Leviathan into the ground. It would be a quick trip, just a couple of days turnaround to pick up more books from the Thompson Falls house. Chaz or Sariel might know.

Her gaze drifted over Penemue's notes and another phrase snagged her attention. So few of those who chose to fall were compatible. Compatible with what?

She leafed back through the pages of her notebook, and came to the first reference to the Watchers that Pen had written.

"For then it was known, that the adversary was accordant with three lines of Heaven and none included the highest levels of seraphim but those of the octavu versu, those who guarded and gave of the fruit of the tree of wisdom."

That the adversary was accordant. The adversary was compatible.

With the three lines of Heaven of the octavu versu. The octavu versu were the Eighth Choir, the archangels of Heaven. Had the Watchers been archangels? Sariel certainly was, she remembered, but Baraquiel and Bezaliel, Chazaquiel and Kokabiel were not. Who was the adversary?

Memory threw up references to the term, in both the Talmud and the Qu'ran. In Islam, Shaitan was the Adversary, the Devil. The role of Adversary was different in the Hebrew texts, being the tempter and the prosecutor of sin. But the books were written by men, not angels, and not demons. And men could screw up the simplest translations with the best of the intentions.

Getting to her feet, Ellie started to pace around the long tables in the centre of the big basement room. If Lucifer was the adversary, then would that mean that he was only compatible with three of the lines of Heaven? She thought of the three names: Araquiel. Amaros. Azazel.

A sudden chill beside her made her shiver. Bobby manifested next her.

"You need more exercise?" The ghost asked, characteristic sarcasm in his voice.

Ellie shrugged. "I think better on my feet. What's going on?"

"Just thought I'd see what progress you'd made."

"Not much," Ellie admitted. "What do you know of angel bloodlines and the Eighth Choir?"

The air around them dropped another few degrees as Bobby's manifestation became sharper and more solid-looking. "Angel bloodlines?"

Ellie gestured to the desk and turned for it. "Penemue wrote that there were only three of the bloodlines of the Fallen Ones that were compatible with the Eighth Choir—"

"The archs."

She nodded. "Right. Araquiel. Azazel and Amaros."

"You know that Dean and Sam are descended from two different lines?"

She looked at him. "Yes. From Azazel and Araquiel."

Bobby stared down at the paper. "I had a talk with Cas once, asked him why the boys were vessels for Michael and Lucifer. He didn't know for sure, but the feeling in Heaven was that for some reason, Dean had gotten most of Araquiel's bloodline, and Sam most of Azazel's. So they were suitable."

"They weren't just vessels, but also keys? The only keys able to break the seals to the cage?" Ellie said slowly. She'd known this a long time, but she realised she'd never thought of the manipulations in this way, bloodlines that could make vessels and keys. Keys that could only open one thing.

Bobby nodded. "We didn't tell them."

"No." She rubbed her wrist over her temple. What would have been the point to telling them? She had asked them about it but had never laid out her worst theories.

But someone had told Dean, and probably Sam. Maybe Castiel. Maybe Lucifer.

"The Araquiel bloodline produced the Winchesters. The Azazel one, the Campbells."

"Yep." Bobby looked at her. "I think you need to talk to Cas about the third Watcher, Amaros. Heaven must know the descendants."

"Yeah, I think you're right." She turned to him, but he'd gone, the air already warming. Dammit.

She tapped the pen against the paper. The question remained, compatible how? In what sense? And for what purpose? Another key? To what?

She was missing something here. Something obvious. The pattern was almost there but not quite. She needed more information. And her sources had mostly disappeared.

She slipped the paper into the journal and stacked the books neatly on the table. There was a good possibility the connection would appear if she was at least pretending not to think about it.

The facts were that dealing with the Leviathan was the current priority, she thought as she got to her feet and headed for the stairs. There were still more than twenty sites in the US that Roman could use to continue his production of additives to contaminate the food production. There had to be a reason for the biotech labs as well. Rubbing her wrist against her temple, she smiled ruefully at herself. She had more than enough things to keep her up at nights.

"Cassie?"

Ellie walked over to where the slender woman was curled into the corner of the sofa. She wasn't sure what had passed between Cassie and Dean the evening before, but it seemed to have altered Cassie's behaviour. After Dean had gone out with the Watchers to bury the Leviathan, Cassie had been genuinely interested in helping to collate the piles of printouts that related to Roman's purchases, focusing on the ones she'd already investigated.

Cassie looked up, putting aside the book she'd been reading. "Yes?"

"This grouping of companies, the ones related to the takeover of Création Technologique last year? How did you find out about them?" Ellie handed her the two folders of printouts.

Cassie took them and glanced through the information. "These came in a bunch of stuff that I got from a friend in France. He thought there was something funny going on, and I'd just asked for anything he could dig up on Roman's business activities over there."

Ellie sat down on the armchair next to the sofa and tapped her pen on the arm. "There are a dozen biotech labs in that group."

Cassie raised a brow. "And that's strange because…?"

"Because Roman has been investing in developing behavioural modification foods," Ellie said, reaching over to tap the end of the pen against the second folder. "Along with the production facilities to produce and distribute the end product."

"You're serious?"

"Yeah, deadly serious." Ellie leaned back in the armchair, adjusting her position as the baby moved. "He's developed some kind of enzyme, at a guess, that changes human behaviour after the consumption of a certain food type. But from what Bobby said, that process was almost completed. Why would he buy into the French biotech companies now?"

"I'm still processing the food thing." Cassie shook her head. "Although…Dean said something about you trying to develop a virus? To kill those monsters?"

"Uh, sort of." Ellie blinked. Dean had told her that? "We've asked a lab to look at a protein marker."

"Oh," Cassie said, her expression blank for a moment. "Well, three of those companies are mostly funded by the DoD, looking at the development of biological weapons. My friend said that those were the ones Roman wanted, but that he'd had to buy the whole conglomeration to get them."

"Now, that makes sense," Ellie said, holding her hand out for the folders. Cassie handed them back as Dean and Sam came into the room, talking quietly.

Sam turned and headed for the stairs as Dean crossed the room. "Any updates?" he asked, looking at Ellie.

"SUSFU."

"Uh huh." Dean nodded and turned to Cassie. "It's going to be safer for you to be somewhere else. A friend of ours in Kansas—"

"No. No way. No. I'm not going to some stranger for an indefinite period of time. You can forget that."

"Can I have a word?" Dean's expression smoothed into inscrutability.

Cassie got up, then leaned over to tap the folders in Ellie's hand, glancing sideways at Ellie at the same time. "The top three on the list are the ones Roman wanted."

Ellie nodded, and opened the folder to put a mark next to each of them. Something for Frank to check out when he got back. She watched Cassie follow Dean out to the hall, then got up and headed for the basement again. If she were quick, she could get the files off to Ray and Frank via the forum dropboxes and possibly get answers back from them by morning.

Dean stopped in the hallway, so turning so abruptly Cassie almost ran into him. They both took a step back.

"What are you doing?" he ground out, looking down at her.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to find someplace where you'll be safe."

"Well, no. Thanks for the thought and the effort, but I'll stay here with you," Cassie said, her tone clipped, "or I'll go back to Charlotte and take my chances."

"You're not staying here."

"Dean."

He turned around to see Talya standing at the doorway. "Cassie would be welcome to stay with us. We have several spare rooms and she's met us at least."

Dean looked at her in surprise. "Is this Ellie's idea?"

Talya shrugged noncommittally. "It's close enough to not feel isolated, not so close that she'd be in danger if we get another surprise visitor."

He looked at Baraquiel's partner for a long moment, uncertain why Ellie would've suggested the move. He thought it would've have been better for everyone, on all fronts, if Cassie left the state. He shrugged it off internally, then turned back to Cassie. "That all right with you?"

Cassie's expression eased from suspicious to grateful as her gaze shifted between Dean and Talya. "Yes. Thank you, Talya. That would be good."

Talya smiled at her, and gestured to the staircase. "Do you want to get your things and I'll show the house now?"

"Lovely," Cassie said, swinging away from Dean and marching toward the staircase.

Dean waited until she was out of sight. "You sure about this?"

"Of course," Talya said. "Our house too is large. We won't get on each other's nerves. She'll be safer there than here."

"True." He turned at the deep chug of a familiar engine throbbed from the front of the house. "Is that Frank?"

Talya walked to the front door, peering through the sidelight. "Yes. Do you need to test them?"

Dean nodded. "I'll stop them at the garage. Can you tell Sam?"

She nodded and left and Dean opened the front door. Frank's pickup and the Airstream had crept down the driveway and parked in the usual spot.

Walking down as the last light faded from the sky, Dean was glad to have them back. The appearance of the Leviathan made it all too clear that nowhere was really safe. Just a few more weeks, he thought, glancing up at the night sky. Is that too much to ask?

The dining room was filled with talk, the warm golden light from the overhead lights and wall sconces lighting up the faces of the men and women sitting around the long table, softening the new lines and the new scars on their faces. Ellie glanced to her left, hiding a smile at Dean's expression as he leaned back in his chair. He couldn't get used to this part, she knew. The everyone-together part. As if he felt her glance, he turned his head to look at her, leaning close.

"We need a bigger table."

It was true. Frank sat at the end of the table, with Talya to his left and Katherine to his right. Katherine still looked pale and tired, though Tricia had given her a thorough exam and pronounced her free from infection and complications. To Talya's right, Cassie was listening to the conversations around her, and to her right, Garth was arguing with Oran over timing belts, she thought. On the other side of the table, Trent sat next to Katherine, his posture curving protectively toward her. Next to him, Sariel, Chazaquiel and Adina filled the middle chairs, and Sam and Tricia were squeezed next to Dean and herself.

"The building in Wisconsin is a near-impossible hit." Sam said quietly. "We can't get the bowl or destroy it the way we've done with the other centres." He looked down the table to Frank. "There was nothing in your surveillance to suggest any other ways in?"

Frank grimaced. "Roman's been there since North Carolina was hit. I'm not sure if he knows who's gunning for him, but he's gone into lockdown and nothing gets in or out of that place."

Ellie felt Dean's look and shook her head. They'd discussed her discovery and decided it wouldn't help or hinder the rest of the things they had to do, so there wasn't any point in raising it and having it turn into a debate. It wasn't important anymore.

Dean turned to the table, and raised his voice, cutting through the conversations.

"Doesn't matter for the moment. We've knocked them around a bit and we can do it again any time. Roman's activities are global so we're not going to make that big an impact anyway."

"What do you mean, global?" Trent looked at him.

"I mean, all over the world." He picked up the list that Ellie had printed from Cassie's files. "He's got biotech companies in France, businesses in Saudi Arabia and Jakarta, an engineering company in Germany, construction companies in South Africa, Australia and Brazil…the list goes on." He shrugged and put the list down. "Whatever we do here isn't going to put a stop to the projects he has outside the country, and they could be legit businesses as part of their cover, or they could be developing stuff to kill people, and we have no means of quickly working out which is which."

"The biotech labs in France?" Frank looked up the table at Ellie, his bushy gray brows raised.

"DoD contracts for weapons," she said in a neutral tone. "But also a few other interesting little boutique labs. We'll need to get some more solid information on them tomorrow."

"So, for the moment," Dean continued, "we'll be focusing on organising some good places to stay out of sight, get more gear for the next stage, and seeing what Dick decides to do—"

On the table, the napkins and tablecloth fluttered and the candles guttered as the air in the room pushed outward.

"Dean."

Ellie swivelled herself in her chair as Dean stood up and turned around. Castiel stood at the doorway to the dining room. The angel looked exhausted, dishevelled and dirty. His gaze travelled around the table, then stopped on Dean, his face expressionless.

"Hell has risen."