Disclaimer: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show, The Vampire Diaries or Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fiction. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. The original stories were developed using SPN episode content up until 02/11/10 and this one may include anything up through 2019. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 15, though my story took its turn after SPN Season 4. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, "Mission," "Prelude," and "Bound." This story takes place where Prelude left off and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes. Any lyrics mentioned in this story do not belong to me are the property of their original writers.

Dylan woke up in a groggy haze, starting his day by stretching out the kinks. A searing pain shot through his left arm. Ouch. That was explainable because of the shooting, but why the hell did his neck hurt?

"Ah," he hissed as he righted himself to a seated position on the bed. He had forgotten that whatever was in the bullet slowed his vampire healing abilities. Super. It was all coming back to him now, including why he and Sonora had been traveling to Wisconsin in the first place.

"April." His sister, his twin, was missing.

He pushed through the searing pain and forced himself out of bed. He stood unsteadily and looked down as he strained. Wait, who undressed him down to his boxers?

"Need some help?"

Sonora grinned from across the room, her petite form casually leaning against the door jamb. "I'm surprised that those were just black. I thought maybe they'd have some sort of cartoon characters on them. You seem like an Avengers or Batman boy," she joked, pointing to his shorts.

"Ha. Ha. Funny," he sarcastically replied. "And I got it, thanks. Not that you could be of any help." He gestured towards her. "How's the leg?"

"It'll heal," she assured. To amply prove her point, Sonora elevated her injured leg a little with a wince, extending it out. She would hobble for a bit, but at least she was semi-mobile and in good spirits. At least she was safe, and that brought him some solace.

With the door ajar, he could make out the familiar sounds of a group of people loudly conversing out in the main room.

"Who's all here," he questioned while yawning.

"You don't remember? Well, I guess you were pretty out of it before. Everyone's here; your Dad, Sam, Bobby, Gwen, and Jesse. Cas is out of commission; he got beat up last night. They are all trying to figure out how to get April and...Abby."

Wait, Mom was missing too? His heart jumped into his throat.

Dylan abruptly jumped to his dresser, pulling out some pants, ignoring the ache as he struggled furiously with his jeans. He quickly yanked them up and zipped, but frantically bungled with the damn button. Suddenly Sonora was in front of him, her hands on his waistband, her affectionate fingers grazing his skin. He jumped back in surprise. Her eyes met his, their eager lips close to touching. She quickly remedied his button problem.

"There," she said, her hands lingering at his waist until she caught herself and moved back. "Uh, um... thank you for saving me."

"Wouldn't say I saved you, Nora. But I'm glad we made it out," he tenderly caressed her cheek with his hand.

He could overhear Bobby directing from the kitchen table. It was obvious who would be the one delegating tasks for the rescue effort.

"Guess we should go join the A-team," Dylan suggested, subtly shifting her over to his good side so he could give her recovering body some support.

They cautiously entered the dining room, his dad seated at one end, pouring over Grandpa John's journal. The rest of the group was spread out. Sam was busy on his laptop, jotting down pertinent information. Gwen was on mom's computer, looking over local maps. Jesse was on the couch, laying down with his eyes firmly closed trying to concentrate deeply on something.

Dean glanced up from his journal and made eye contact with his son.

"Hey, Dad." His father stood up and instantly took Dylan in for a hug on his non-injured side, carefully holding him tighter than he had in a long time.

"Good to see you, son," he greeted, relieved in his tone. "Glad you're okay."

"Thanks. Good to see you in one piece too." His dad merely nodded like he normally did but there was pain behind the gesture. Dyl could perceive a slew of tangled emotions unintentionally emanating from his father. Profound sadness. Rage. Moral confusion. Overwhelming guilt. It was clear something big had happened. Dad wasn't okay. Not in the slightest. Dean let go of his son and got back to his work.

"How can I help," Dylan promptly offered. "What are we working with? What do ya got?"

They brought him up to speed on everything, from Iowa to Lilitu and the nest connection.

"So you were right, Sonora. Something was going on," he acknowledged.

"Told ya," she said with a smug grin. "Just wish I could have pinned it down sooner so maybe we could have prevented this mess."

"So, basically, they've got somethin' planned tonight to bring Lilith back; they will use your sister as Lilith's meat suit. We're going to get her," Dean affirmed.

"And Abby," Gwen appended, shooting Dean a look. She stared at his dad down, her eyes shooting daggers. There was a considerable tension that he had never seen between the two of them before. Dean was looking at her like he did with vampires he didn't know; that he didn't trust. She was looking at him as if he had wantonly killed someone she cherished. Worst of all, Dylan could feel their mutual disdain for each other and it was inadvertently causing him to feel physically and emotionally shaky.

"I'm serious, Dean."

"So, am I."

"Look, so you're going to be a petty bitch and whine about the fact that she bit you? Well, poor baby! She's still your wife," Gwen seethed. Sam peered up from his laptop to look sympathetically at his nephew and then at his brother.

"Wait, what," Dylan asked anxiously. "What happened? What's goin' on? Mom-"

"Don't worry about it, Dyl," Dean directed.

"Sam, what's going on," he frantically asked his uncle straight.

"Sam-," his father sternly warned his brother. What in the blue Hell was going on?

"Your mom attacked your dad," Gwen finally imparted.

"Gwen, that's enough," Dean threatened.

"She attacked him, and it must have been for a reason. She wouldn't have done it without one. She must have something planned or something inside her causing her to do things. There's no way; I know your mother-"

"What, and I don't," Dean burst out, slamming his beer down on the table, causing everything on it to shake. "Give me a fucking break, Gwen! You weren't there, you didn't see her, and you don't know her as good as you think you do!"

Gwen stood up and took several deliberate steps closer to Dean.

"You keep telling yourself that if that helps you sleep at night, Winchester. Maybe all your lying and scheming is finally catching up to you. Do you know she had me make sure Dylan was well-protected at the nest because she suspected something going down from the inside?"

"Wait, she was thinking the same thing as Sonora?! Why didn't she say somethin'," Dylan interjected. No one paid any attention to him as his dad and aunt were still going at it.

"Do you know she told me not to tell you about it, Dean? Abs and I shared something that you will never understand because you aren't one of us. You will never understand what it's like to be one of us. You will never understand the agony of bloodlust or the shit that comes with having centuries on your shoulders. You don't understand our loyalty to one another. I would do anything for my sister regardless of what she'd do to me. I thought you understood that with how many times Sam screwed up in the past. You would do anything to protect him," she pointed to Sam. "But he's a human. Your devoted, blind devotion to family only extends to the ones who aren't part 'monster,' right? You were always just waiting for the other shoe to drop with Abby because of what she is and not who she is. So you go on and spout all your bullshit about how you know her better! You don't fucking deserve her, and you never did!"

Dean strode forcefully towards the blonde vampire, causing Sam to jump up from his seat and placed himself between them.

"Dean! Gwen! Calm down, dammit," Bobby barked. "Can you two not do this right now?! This bickerin' is not going to get the girls any faster! So quit your yammering and get back to work!"

Dylan could see the slight movements of Gwen's upper lip, a sure sign that she was trying to hold back her canines. He knew if that happened in front of his dad's family, they would do something to her. He understood as hunters they tolerated working with vamps if they had proved themselves to be trustworthy, which was a select few. However, they had no issue taking one out if threatened. Dylan walked over and stood beside Sam between the two. The last thing they needed was a fight within their faction.

"Dad," Dylan pleaded. "We can't afford to do this right now...for April, okay? Please."

Dean broke their duel putting his hands up and withdrawing. He sat back in his chair, shrugged, and took a sip of his now tepid beer. Even though her eyes were still slit, Gwen also quietly took her seat and resumed her research.

"Okay, so this ceremony they need to perform. This is something sacred," Gwen explained, rubbing her temples as she thought aloud. "There has to be someplace they will do it in the building though. There's no reason they'd do it somewhere other than that building and risk a raid."

Dylan and Sonora looked over her shoulder at her laptop. She was looking at the property records, old deeds, and blueprints.

"This place is huge," Gwen described. "It doesn't even have those cellars you guys described on any of the blueprints."

"Well, if they used it for bootlegging, there wouldn't be any of those noted necessarily," Sam jumped in.

"Right," she agreed. "But this lodge has so many rooms, large ones too. It's a needle in a haystack if we go to the wrong one and tip them off…."

"I've got an idea," Dylan interjected. "Let's work backward, starting from who first owned and bought the property."

Sam pushed his laptop across the table to his nephew, and Dylan quickly opened a plat map and a genealogy site. It was originally farmlands owned by a German named Kruger. Kruger died on the property in a farm equipment accident.

"Okay, so we've got blood already spilled there. An unrested spirit could add to the mojo," Dean admitted, scooting over to see what his son was looking at on the computer.

It was just a simple farmhouse, nothing fancy. It seemed though that changed in 1920.

"Seems from the deeds a Cunin bought the area. Nora, you're the local history buff, does that ring a bell," he glanced up at his partner.

"Cunin? Maybe that's our gangster connection? Cunin was Bugs Moran's legal surname. He was part of the Chicago outfit, and they had hideouts and vacation homes up here," Sonora conjectured. Boom. That just might be the gangster connection they needed to justify the mysterious cellars. It appeared from the blueprints they added onto the original building, keeping the exterior front of the lodge the original structure. "They built back and up from there, but it's like the mystery house, there's no rhyme to how and where they put things in the design."

"This is a ceremony, right," Sam said. "It's gotta be somewhere big enough for a crowd if it's this whole cult. If they picked a place like this, they aren't just doing this for the ceremony, they're doing this for show-"

"Wait," Gwen interrupted. "The Sanborn fire maps. There were additions over the years for three sizeable rooms from 1920 to 1930. A theater, a dining room, and a….I can't tell, maybe a ballroom?"

"Are there any photos in any collections of the interior? If gangsters were up there they were probably partying, right? Maybe there's something off about one room that might give a hint," Sam added.

"On it," Gwen said. She finally found the original building name when it was in its roaring-20s heyday; the Dellcrest Lodge. "Ok, I think I found photos of the ballroom. Huh," she bemused as she scanned through the photo collection.

"Huh, what," inquired Bobby.

"This line of marble inlaid into the wood floor-"

"What about it," Bobby pressed.

"Yeah, that's not unusual for swanky digs," Dean added. "Not that I'd know from experience. Marble just sounds classy."

"Well, it is weird if it's on an angle. It's not even across the center of the room. It's just in the front third at like a 55-degree angle. You can't tell me that's not odd," the blonde vampire looked around the room at the others.

"I guess you get what you pay for," Dean joked, taking another drink. "Hold up. Dyl, you said this Kruger died on the property. Can we find out where?"

Dylan methodically searched for his death certificate and came across a local newspaper article written at the time of death. It seemed the farmer died being pinned underneath his tractor and slowly crushed to death a hundred yards from the backside of the house. He took the old blueprints of the original house and overlaid them with the recent one, and approximated the three hundred feet from the back of the house.

"Circle gets the square," Dean concluded. The ballroom. "Maybe the line marked where Old MacDonald was ganked? Kinda like an X marks the spot?"

"No, I don't think so," Dylan opined. "I've seen something like this before in a church in Europe in AP World History last year.." His fingers clicked on his keyboard to show an example, turning the computer around for all to view. "I'm guessing it's more to designate a ley line. There's one that goes right through that area. Whoever added this room knew it was there. The Cunins were Irish so they might have believed in the power of ley lines? Doing a ceremony over a ley line, over spilled blood, and with quartz to amplify it would be the perfect place, right? I'm the newbie here, so it's just a guess."

Sam worked at his computer, looking up local ley lines and overlaying them on a map with the lodge.

"Holy crap. He's right. There's a ley line that runs right through the damn lodge. Good work, Dyl," Sam smiled at his nephew.

Dean patted his son on the back, eliciting a hiss from a pat on the wrong side.

"Sorry, bud. Awesome job, though, Sherlock."

"Well color me impressed," Bobby complimented. "Woulda took these two boneheads days to figure that one out."

"He had an excellent instructor on this research," Sonora smiled and winked at him.

"Um...yeah...uh...thanks," he babbled as he grinned back, his obsidian eyes finding her dark sepia. They lingered fondly for a bit too long, causing his dad to clear his throat. Dylan and Sonora both shifted in their seats as Dean just smiled before turning his attention back to his drink.

"So, there's only one way to get into the ballroom from the exterior. Here," Gwen pointed to the blueprints. "Double doors out to the back patio area on the main floor. All windows are stained, leaded glass, and they don't open. The walls are wood but thick. It looks like that's it unless we try to go in from another way."

"The layout is too complicated," Sonora described as she looked over the map. "It'd be like a maze to navigate, especially in the dark. Difficult for us and impossible for humans. There's just no way."

"Well, can't you see them or feel them with your psychic mojo?" Dean suggested, turning his attention to the exhausted blonde-haired male vampire now seated at the table.

"Inside the building? Probably not," Jesse explained, his head in his hands looking exhausted. "I contacted April for a moment yesterday but they blocked parts of my ability. They have some warding set-up for sure."

"Any sign of her now?" He just hoped to God she was all right. He needed a sign.

"I can barely make her out. She must have moved to another location-but, she's alive if that's any consolation," Jesse revealed, giving Dean a minor relief. Well, it was something.

"How about Abby," Gwen blurted. Dean gave her a death stare. Every time someone mentioned her name, he felt like jumping out of his goddamn skin.

"Same thing. She's there but it's being blocked; her even more so. She's heavily psychically guarded either by their or her doing. It's impossible to tell."

Well, his experience with her, she was more than capable of setting something like that up. Besides using him as her personal Capri Sun, she'd been gorging on the human stuff. She was dangerous and unpredictable.

"So we agree, we're going to have to control them at these doors," Gwen pointed to the schematic. "If the ceremony is there, we know April will be there but will-"

"She's our prime target. Ab can handle herself," Dean ordered in a surly tone.

"Dad, are you serious," Dylan asked his son's black eyes, so much like his mother, searching his for an explanation.

"I am. April is their primary target, so she has to be our primary target."

"Then I'll come with," his son asserted. "I can help you locate them both, maybe my abilities-"

"Hell no! You're staying right here tonight," Dean commanded.

"You can't be serious, Dad! Come on!"

He was dead serious. There was no way he could risk another captive.
"If you were all patched up, if I knew you'd be able to handle yourself, I'd consider it. But we do not understand what they shot you with and why it's taking you so long to heal. We can't risk you fallin' behind and having to get you guys out too. So, you two," he pointed back and forth between Dylan and Sonora, "You two are staying here, and I'm givin' Bobby permission to give you dead man's blood to knock you both on your asses. Got it?"

Defeated and furious, Dylan and Sonora got up and headed towards the side bedroom.

"Jesse, how many do you think they're gonna be," Bobby questioned.

"Right now? I genuinely don't know. I assume Jenny, my sister, will be there. She was working for Elisabeth Norris. Elisabeth is Abigail's aunt; her mother's twin. There were seven sisters; minus Ann, there's still six. They're old, guys. Powerful. They all have psychic leanings. Besides those seven, there will be guards, but I can't guess how many. Possibly Lenore, Declan, and Donovan-"

"Old Don won't be a problem anymore," Gwen confessed, pulling her finger across her neck. She had decapitated him the night they rescued Dylan. Nobody would hurt her nephew and get away with it.

"Well, good on you. He was an asshole," Jesse admitted.

"Wait, so you knew him," Dylan asked.

"There were people in the nest that were a genuine part of Lilitu. There's been a sleeper cell keeping tabs on her for a very long time. They kept the reason close to the vest other than saying Abigail was royal blood and they wanted her to come home on her own accord."

Dean was listening to Jesse's explanation, but it was clear they all were just chumps in Team Lilith's end game. Her dark, almost demon-like eyes kept popping in his head, her cruel mouth smug with his blood dripping from the corner her sensual mouth. "My poor, simple Dean." "I had you fooled for so many years, Dean. I still can't believe I made it this long without you figuring it out." "Should I scare you? I thought we were past that stage. It took a while to earn your trust fully, you know. Honestly, years. But once I did, it was so easy." He could still hear her cruel words echoing in his mind. It was very clear in his mind that she was a part of this for the long haul and had fooled some of the greatest hunters and con-men he knew. Now her lies and actions had put his daughter in danger. It would end tonight.

"Ok, so there's me, Sam, Gwen, and Jesse against maybe upwards of twenty vamps," Dean paused, sharpening his machete. "I like those odds."

Sam rolled his eyes, putting his head in his hands before Bobby chimed in, saying he was more than ready to join.

"No, Bobby, this isn't your fight tonight." There was no way he could let Bobby go out there. God forbid something was to happen to him, he'd never forgive himself.

"Are you kiddin' me? That's practically my granddaughter they got in there! You are crazy if you just expect me to sit on my hands," Bobby complained, looking from brother to brother. As he got older, Bobby was feeling less useful. Dean understood that. He had to make Bobby have a task that was fulfilling and worth him sitting out on the battle.

"I know, believe me, I know, but Cas needs you. You so do Ruby and Jamie. And Dylan. I case things go south, you're the only one here that can take care of business," Dean explained.

His son suddenly reemerged from his bedroom with Sonora. "Dad, what if Sonora and I just stay in the car-"

"Dyl-"

"Hear me out. If we sense something, we could warn you," his son suggested. "We could psychically link before you guys head out and would have a wider range. Worth a shot?"

"He's got a point, Dean. If you don't have the manpower, best to have an early warning system so you wouldn't be goin' in blind," Bobby agreed with the youngest member of the group.

"Fine," Dean grudgingly conceded. "But that means you stay in the car, you lie low, you have your weapons on you at all times and you don't follow us...or so help me." Dylan and Sonora agreed to terms of his deal.

"Okay, so that's settled, so what is the plan," Sam started and interrupted Dean. "And Dean, don't say guns blazing because that's not going to work here."

"I can make some vervain bombs, mix in a little DMB to knock them the hell out. It'll burn them, take a few out of commission at a time? I've had success with them before. Might work to get to the lodge," Sonora presented her idea to the group. That wasn't an awful idea. They'd need all the help they could get.

"Okay, then what about the one's inside? We'll be sitting ducks if we march in through one door. It's like a funnel," Gwen stated matter-of-factly.

"Then we have to keep them in there," Bobby answered. "Once you get the girls, you can trap them in there, and then burn it. Says here you can kill Lamia with fire after its seasoned with rosemary and salt. Might be better than hand-to-hand and your typical slicing and dicing."

Wait, did he just say we have to season them with rosemary and salt? Sounded like they were making a damn turkey and not killing vamps.

"It could work," Gwen admitted before continuing. "Though, if we added vervain, it would be lethal to the made vamps in there too. But how do we get the salt mix on them?"

"Shotgun shells," Sam chimed in. "The same ones we use for ghosts. We could use those and-"

"That would work for the ones outside, Sam, but for the others, we'd have to get in there with them. Though I suppose we could have those ready in case a few make a run for it," Gwen thought aloud.

"I could use that same bomb idea, but make it into a smoke bomb scenario," Sonora thought aloud. "If I ground everything down small enough; the salt and rosemary, when the bomb goes off, it would coat everything. Those we could throw into the windows. There's like what ten windows? Shoot them out, toss those in, throw some Molotov cocktails…and boom. Crispy critters."

"Dude, that could just work. All right, let's kick this plan in the ass. We only have a few hours," Dean looked to his brother and motioned for him to talk in private. They moved to the side bedroom and closed the door. "Okay, so we're clear that this is an April rescue, right? I need your back on this, man."

"No," Sam defied his brother.

"Come on, man. I really need my brother on this."

"I know, Dean, and I'm with you. I want to get my niece out. I know you'll get her and she'll be fine...but I'm going in after Abs."

"The hell you are, Sam! She's gone full Vampira and you want to rescue her?! No. If she attacked me, you can bet your ass she'd bleed you!"

"Dean, there's something that's been bothering me since we got out. It seemed too easy, don't you think?"

"Douchy big vamp was just in the wrong place at the right time, Sam. I don't think there was anything weird about it."

"I don't know. It just doesn't seem right. And, to be honest, I agree with Gwen; you've given me the benefit of the doubt hundreds of times in the past and God knows I owe Abby the same. Look, if she's one of them, then we do what we have to do. If she's too far gone, then yeah, I'm with you; one hundred percent. If she's bad and a demon, we do what we have to do...but for Jamie's sake, I need to be sure."

"I wholeheartedly agree." Gwen appeared at the doorway, her arms crisscrossed over her chest. "Sam and I will be on Team Abby, you and Jesse can be on Team April. One hunter and one vamp per team. Sound like a plan?"

"Works for me, Gwen. I'm going to go help Sonora with the bombs," Sam acknowledged as he made his way out of the agitated room.

Gwen lingered behind, leaning against the door frame waiting to get Dean alone.

"You got somethin' to say, then spit it out," Dean huffed at the blonde female vampire. She blurred over to him, her eyes as steely as her resolve. He instinctively reacted by putting his hand on his knife.

"If anything happens to Abigail, anything...I am holding you responsible, Winchester."

"Is that a threat, Gwen?"

"That's a promise."