The Chaos Tree

Chapter 12

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Darkness was at its deepest, yet the black Hennessey Venom sped along the highway without headlights. Piruz felt satisfaction, but only a small degree of concern. Merlin's child was no match for him, he saw that now. It was impressive that the child had been able to track him. He thought he had been covering his tracks quite well. Yet the Children of Merlin had tracked him to the city in the province of Alabama. Maybe he needed to add more protection to himself, his vehicle and his destinations.

Red and blue lights whirled in his rearview mirror. Smiling, he pressed his foot onto the gas pedal, increasing his speed. He still found it much easier to drive without the front lights on, thus had learned his rear lights did not shine either. Soon, the speed enforcement officer would be left in the dust, and he would be closer to his next destination.

Joshua pulled another jar from his heavily packed shelves in the basement workshop of his home, studied the label and poured some into a waiting Tupperware container. He knew most people who dealt in magic used the traditional burlap or silk sacks. But he liked Tupperware. It was airtight and protected the ingredients, and by extension, the magic.

After filling a few more containers, he reached into a drawer and grabbed several packages of empty, exceptionally thin Mylar pouches. These small, thin pouches took careful filling, but when thrown they broke on contact. They were the best thing to use in fighting bad guys. Stepping back, he stared at his duffel. He had packed the ingredients for the most powerful spells he knew or could find. He hoped they'd be enough.

"Joshua?"

Joshua turned as Adam came down the stairs into his workshop. "I'm here."

Adam stepped into the room and crossed over to the work counter where Joshua stood. He looked at the packed bag. "You're going to help Dean, Sam and Caleb?"

Joshua nodded. Zipping up his duffel, he said, "I don't go into the field very often anymore, but this man seems to be a powerful crafter."

Adam stared at his friend. He didn't want Joshua to go up against this person, whoever he was. Joshua was seventy-three years old. He was nowhere near as spry as he used to be. He didn't want to lose his friend. "I'm coming with you."

Joshua smiled and shook his head. "No. This is Brotherhood business."

"I helped on Brotherhood business last year," Adam said. "If this man is a crafter and he's creating some sort of massive spell, then I'm a part of this; we're crafters. If we don't unite together against those of evil intent, we're not living up to our responsibilities. We have a duty to make sure this man does no harm."

Joshua smiled. "We're not doctors."

"No, we're better than that," Adam stated with his usual stoic confidence. "We use the powers of creation to heal and support life."

"I'm going too."

Both men tuned to see Onida standing a couple steps up from the bottom of the stairs.

"I thought you were asleep," Joshua commented.

Onida shrugged, descending fully into the workroom. "I was," she said, fighting the need to yawn because of Joshua having said the word asleep. Eyeing the two men, she finally asked, "Are we going to stand around here all day? I thought we had a plane to catch?"

Joshua frowned. "Caleb would never forgive me if…"

Onida held up a hand to stop him. "I get that this guy is bad, though I don't understand why you think he's a big bad. But I can take care of myself. I've been on hunts before." She eyed the Advisor. "Why is he a big bad? I mean, we found a box where violence didn't happen. Have we established he's responsible for anything? He may be trying to stop the violence like we are."

"At every scene of violence, he was there," Joshua said.

"That you could track," Onida countered, walking further into the room. "I thought most of the data analyzed so far was from Stillwater, Houston and Anaheim. Have you gotten corroboration from the other cities?"

"Yes," Adam said.

Joshua looked around at him in surprise.

Adam grimaced slightly. "I used your computer to check in with Ryker. I saw the email from Alison. You've spoken about her sending information regarding the other cities, so I peeked. I came down here to tell you that there were sightings of the black car in Baltimore and Ashland. None in Kennebunkport or Rockland." Looking Joshua straight in the eye, he said sincerely, "I really didn't mean to pry, but I was curious and it seemed like we were on a deadline. I'm sorry."

"Accepted," Joshua said, giving his long time friend a comforting clasp on the shoulder. "Let's get packed and get to the airport. Caleb has the jetliner already waiting."

"Hang on a second," Onida stated, holding up a hand. "We haven't found a way to track the boxes yet."

"But we're close," Joshua said. "Sometimes we have to do things on the fly. We'll work on perfecting that last formula once we're on the plane."

Onida nodded. "Okay. I'm heading home to get some clothes. You," she jabbed a finger at Joshua, "are not leaving without me, got it?"

"I won't leave without you," Joshua affirmed.

Onida eyed him again, then formed a ball of energy in her hand and said, "You'd better not." Squelching the energy orb, she gave both men a sweet smile and jogged up the stairs.

Adam looked over at Joshua. "I thought you guys were the leaders of the Brotherhood."

"We are. But wives and partners are still…"

"Wives and partners," Adam finished, chuckling.

Joshua slung his duffel carefully over his shoulder and said, "Show me the email."

Caleb hit disconnect on his phone, then scrolled down his call list to hit another number.

"Yeah?" came a sleepy voice.

"Raylan? This is Caleb."

The man squinted at his phone and groaned. "You realize it's four in the morning, right?"

Caleb grimaced. "Sorry, I forgot you were in Arizona."

Raylan Tanner shoved off the covers and pushed himself into a sitting position. Running a hand briskly over his face, he said, "Forget about it. What's up?"

"You finish off that Ōkami in the Apache-Sitgreaves National Forest?"

"Yeah, yesterday."

"Good. In the morning I need you to drive to California, Orange County to be exact."

"Yeah?" Raylan stifled a yawn. "What's in Orange County besides Disneyland, the Skyland Trampoline Center and Adventure City?"

"You know about Adventure City?"

"Moving on…" Raylan said, forced boredom in his tone.

Caleb chuckled. "There's a hunt, a big hunt. Someone is placing spell boxes at sites in the city. These are very old, very powerful boxes. I need someone to help retrieve them who will be very careful and won't open them."

Caleb had known Raylan Tanner for more than thirty years. The man was as discrete as they came, and didn't poke his nose in where it didn't belong. He could be trusted to collect the boxes in Anaheim.

"Okay, you know where this box is?"

"Boxes, plural," Caleb corrected, "and no, not really."

Raylan blinked. "Come again?"

"I'm not sure where they are, exactly. We're working on that information now. I just need you to get there and be in place when we find them."

"What's going on?"

Caleb gave the other man a cursory overview of what had been happening; the violence, the man in the car.

There was silence for a moment, before Raylan asked, "You think this person is a wizard of some sort, like Voldemort?"

Caleb snorted in laughter. "I wouldn't have put it like that, but yeah."

"I've watched my sister's kids one too many times," Raylan stated. "I have all the Potter movies memorized at this point. All right, I'll head out in the morning. Am I meeting anyone there? Anaheim is a large city, and there are hundreds of clubs."

"Yeah. I'm about to get on the phone with Kace Brandt. He's taking care of a poltergeist in Utah. Should be finished in enough time to meet up with you."

"You're asking me and Kace to cover all those clubs?" asked Raylan, his voice somewhat daunted.

"I'll see if anyone else is in the area. But I'm banking on our being able to send you directly to the box."

"Yeah, okay. I'll give you a call when I get there."

"Thanks," Caleb said, hanging up. Sighing, he reached up and massaged his forehead, trying to dispel the headache that had started five minutes ago.

"How long have you been up?"

Caleb smiled at Dean's rumbled appearance as he walked into the room and dropped into a seat on the other side of the table. "Since around seven. I've got teams on the way to all the cities that might have those boxes. Hopefully Onida will be able to track them, but in case not, we'll have to look ourselves."

"Do you think this Pierre dude will put up protections around the boxes now that he knows we're on to him?"

"I think his name is Piruz," Sam mumbled, stumbling into the main living space of the suite. "Cause that's what you said before sleep interfered with your cognitive processes." Yawning, he poured himself some coffee and dropped into a seat at the table.

"Morning," Caleb said, smirking. Sam was almost as bad as Dean for morning grumpiness. Almost.

"Piruz," Dean amended, though he really didn't care. "Well?"

"If I were him, I would cloak the boxes the moment I had the chance," Caleb said.

Hoping the answer would have been different, Dean sighed. "Yeah, so would I." Going to the hotel room phone, he ordered breakfast to be brought up to their room: eggs, biscuits, bacon and fruit.

"I've got teams going in to search for the boxes," Caleb told Sam. "Let's hope we can find them before Piruz cloaks them."

Dean warmed his coffee as well as Caleb's before sitting back at the table.

Sam yawned widely before saying, "So, we're headed to North Carolina."

"Unless Piruz has changed his play," Dean muttered.

Sam shook his head. "He's a witch," Sam said. "He has to finish the circle, and we've already established his pattern. Whether that pattern was set by this specific spell or his personal idiosyncrasies, I don't believe he'll deviate in the final stretch. You guys say he'll go to North Carolina, then finish the circle in the biggest city on the east coast: New York."

Dean nodded his agreement, not sure why he'd even voiced such nonsense except his body ached and he was feeling out of sorts. He'd gotten the sense of the man the night before; arrogant and more amused by their efforts to stop him than threatened. No, the witch wouldn't change his focus. Shifting, his shoulder pulled and the ache spread throughout his body. Instead of letting it show, he pushed the pain away almost subconsciously. Sam saw, of course.

"You should let me take a look at that," Sam said, indicating the burn wound.

"I checked it out this morning," Dean said. "It's fine. No blood or oozing. It's just tender."

"I'll take a look before we head out," Sam stated, not giving his brother a choice.

Dean merely rolled his eyes and moved on. "Any idea how he'll close the circle? The usual or something new?"

"The most powerful spells need blood as a seal," Sam said, going into Professor-mode. "Joshua and Ryker use their blood to seal protection circles and Triad circles. Most witches would use blood, not only to seal the circle but bind the circle to themselves. Like we were saying yesterday; there are rules and fundamentals in magic. He'll use blood."

"This is a big-ass circle," Caleb observed. "Wouldn't it take a couple gallons of blood or more to seal a circle this big? That would mean sacrificing people."

"It might just be that the blood chosen would need to be powerful in some way," Sam speculated. "Quality not quantity."

"You mean a specific kind of blood," Dean said for clarification.

"Joshua would be the one to answer that," Sam said. "Knowing what kind of spell this is would help in identifying the seal needed. But we'd be safe in saying powerful blood, magical blood preferably, would need to be used to seal the spell."

"Would another witch be considered a good sacrifice" Caleb asked, fear for Joshua prompting the question.

"I suppose to would depend on how powerful the witch," Sam said slowly, his eyes on Caleb. "And like everything else on this hunt, we're speculating anyway."

"We know he's a wizard," Caleb said. "And we know he's working a spell around the country and using the boxes as talismans."

"But we don't what kind of spell or what it will do," Sam stated.

Caleb didn't respond. He didn't want Joshua in danger.

Dean eyes Caleb and could understand his unease. He wouldn't like it if Sam had a target on his back, speculative or not. "If I know Adam, he'll be with Josh when he gets here. Aside from us, there's no one better to watch Joshua's back."

"Caleb gave a slow nod. "Yeah, no one besides us."

"We won't let anything happen to Joshua," Sam vowed.

Instead of continuing the discussion on destinations and sacrifices, Dean decided to air another potential problem. "If this guy knows were tracking him, it would be a good idea for him to take us out before we can interfere any more with his master plan."

Just then there was a knock on the door. Foregoing an immediate reply to Dean's statement, Caleb got up to get their breakfasts. He pulled the new cart into the room and traded it for the old one. After tipping the waiter, he wheeled the food over to the table and sat.

"So, back to the guy wanting to take us out," Caleb said.

"I don't think he views us as a real threat, more like a nuisance," Dean shrugged. "But if we can track him, we can slow him down. We're disrupting his plans."

"So we keep our eyes open like always," Sam said, taking the plate Dean handed him and placing it on the table. "Anyone got a feeling on which city this guy's going to pick?"

"Raleigh," Dean and Caleb said together, before grinning at one another.

Sam stared. "There are some major cities in North Carolina. Why Raleigh?"

"Just a feeling," Caleb said.

"Shouldn't we check all cities, like in Alabama?"

"We will, to be safe," Dean said.

They ate in silence for several minutes before Caleb sat back and pushed his empty plate aside. Watching the other two finish their meals, he said, "I've sent Raylan Tanner and Kace Brandt to California to search for the boxes. Joel and Daniel are checking Alabama, and they'll follow us to North Carolina to help us find the boxes there. I've got one hunter each going to Rockland and Ashland, Jodi and Mark are backtracking to Stillwater to help Donna, and two additional hunters are headed to Baltimore. They'll check in with Diana when they get there."

"What about Houston?" Sam asked.

"Ethan's got that covered. He knows which clubs were the worst hit and he's got Elijah and his son Gideon there to help. He'll let me know if he needs more help."

"Where are Lane and Morgan?" Sam asked. Lane was Elijah's son, and Morgan Fox was Silas's youngest. Both were members of the secondary Triad along with Gideon; Gideon Matthews as Guardian, Morgan Fox the Knight, and Lane Matthews as Scholar.

"They're finishing a hunt in Florida," Caleb said. "I asked them to hang out there a day or so in case we need help in North Carolina."

Sam nodded, finishing the last of his toast. Setting his plate on the cart, he said. "Without stops, it's a seven hour drive from here to Charlotte. Beyond that it's only an hour or so to Winston-Salem, half hour to Greensboro, then an additional hour-plus to Raleigh." Draining his coffee mug, he finished with, "It's going to be a long day."

"Josh lands at three," Caleb said, "and he's bringing a magical arsenal."

"Good, we can use it," Sam said, gathering his notes and organizing them to go into his computer bag.

While Caleb cleared the table, Dean toyed with his coffee mug, thinking. Finally he looked up at the other two and said, "If this guy wants to take us on, maybe we should get on with it."

Sam looked up, startled. "What? You said this guy was hurling magic at you like it was candy, and you want to deliberately take him on?"

"I got a glimpse of some of his magic tricks, but we need to know what he's capable of."

"So, what," Caleb said, "We call him out?"

Sam snorted. "You actually think this guy is just going to come meet us for a fight?"

Caleb wheeled the cart to the door. "This guy is old world. If we launch the metaphorical glove across the cheek, he'll meet up with us."

Sam rolled his eyes at Caleb's referencing the Three Musketeers. The man was obsessed. Instead of addressing that, he said instead, "You think he's that old?"

"Dean has a better sense of him, so I'll go with that," Caleb said.

"If we do send him a message to come out and meet up with us, how do we do that?"

Caleb tapped his forehead. "I'll send out a psychic all points."

"He knew I was waiting for him in the parking lot, Sam," Dean said.

Sam took a huge breath, then said, "Let's do it, then. See what he's made of."

"We should watch out for a hit on the road too," Dean said, rising. "While guerrilla warfare didn't really start until the Picts attacked the Roman armies from the trees and from behind bushes…"

"Formalized battles took over after that as what could be termed honorable fighting became the norm," Caleb interjected.

Dean nodded. "Then in early American history during the American Revolution, settlers attacked the British army from the trees and from behind boulders…"

"Taking the British Troops off guard and eventually winning the war."

Sam's head had ping-ponged back and forth between the two until shook his head. "You two are crazy."

"Like a fox," Caleb chortled.

"I'm heading in for a shower," Dean said, making a beeline for the bedroom.

Glancing at his watch, Sam called out, "Leave me some hot water!" Then he caught the incredulous expression on Caleb's face. "Oh, I forgot; we're at the Westin."

Piruz smiled as he stepped inside the massive home that allowed strangers to stay within, a concept he understood, as during his time opening one's home to travelers had been expected. Of course, one usually didn't offer recompense, but this was a new era. He knew Kehoe House history declared the house to be old, but to him it was a marvel of the modern.

After his encounter in Huntsville, he had decided to go across to the coast instead up directly upward toward his destination. He'd arrived in Savannah after the dawn. The hostess of this dwelling had been surprised when he wanted a room so early in the day, saying the rooms weren't clean. She had no idea what dirty was. When he added his request for a room that overlooked the water, she conceded that there was a room that hadn't been rented the night before. When she suggested he have breakfast while she had the room readied for him, he'd been charming and agreed.

He found the food of this era either lacking in taste or overly salted. But he enjoyed something called a pan cake, which was apparently eaten after being drenched in tree sap. Odd though this sounded, he enjoyed it immensely. After finishing his meal, he was escorted upstairs by a young man who led him into a magnificent room.

The suite was massive, with an intimate sitting area near a fire place along one wall with an entertainment screen sitting on a dark wood console nearby. There was a wide table for meals, and a smooth, polished desk for work. Along the other side of the room was a light colored dresser and grand, four-poster bed. Walking forward, he placed his bags on the chest at the end of the bed, and ran his palms over the soft cover that lay over the mattress. Smiling, he turned his attention to the window. Having grown up in the desert, he knew he would never get enough of seeing clear blue water. When he'd first seen the ocean, he thought the world was boundless. The passions of the waves, pounding onto the shore only to recede back into the depths; he'd been in awe. And while he preferred the ocean to all other bodies of water, standing here at the window and staring out at the river in Savannah was also tranquil.

With a sigh, he returned to the bed, picked up a large, leather case and carried it over to the table. The first thing he needed to do before getting some sleep was to protect the boxes. Merlin's Child knew he was placing them strategically around the country, and he probably knew where. Opening his case, he pulled out the large parchment. Murmuring an incantation and moving his hand over the surface, a map of the country appeared. Turning to his leather case, he removed a silver bowl, pestle and mortar. Joining these items on the table were two silver spoons and several slender silk sacks with various herbs and spices inside. Expertly Piruz measured ingredients into the bowls, then added spices ground into dust by his pestle. When he finished the potion, he murmured an incantation while he slowly poured the mixture onto a silver platter etched with intricate runes and sigils. Once this was finished, Piruz hung the map up on the wall and voiced a second incantation that had the Chaos symbol appearing, its points flaring out from the center.

He began his last incantation while setting a flame to the ingredients, sending a multicolored mist into the air. Touching on the city named Baltimore on the map, Piruz closed his eyes, murmuring under his breath, cloaking the boxes from anyone attempting to sense them. Moving on, he repeated his actions until he had cloaked all the boxes in every city he'd marked. Finally, he sat in one of the chairs near the table, spent.

Eyeing his map, he nodded. The boxes were safe, there was time to remake this world. He'd waited centuries after Merlin's interference, and he could wait a little longer while he took Merlin's champions out of play. Did he want to kill them? No, they were honorable men. But he couldn't have them as a distraction. If he could, he would neutralize them. If that became impossible, they would die for the sake of the new world.

Onida sat in the plush jetliner seat with her eyes closed, focusing on downtown Anaheim searching for a small glowing circle or square with a darker center. That would be the energy outside the boxes and the cocobolo wood itself.

"How is the new spell?" Joshua asked, leaning across the aisle.

"Much better," Onida murmured. "The light isn't overwhelming, and most of the energy particles are muted. So I'm just looking for compacted light rings around a dark core."

"Exactly. Let the potion quiet all the extraneous energy."

Onida nodded and continued to follow the energy particles down, filtering out the lights as they got increasingly dense. Focus on Anaheim's city center, she thought to herself. Ignore everything else. Suddenly in the dense structures of downtown, she saw a spiral of lights with a dark core. "I see one, I see one!" Her hand flailed out and was caught by someone. "What do I do?! I'm not psychic, I can't see the street signs. I just see the box."

"But we know it's there," Joshua stated, excitement in his voice. "It's confirmation that the boxes are in the cities."

"So what do I do?"

Joshua looked over at Adam.

"Uh, can you tell different types of energy from one another?" Adam asked.

"You mean human from solid objects?"

"Yes, and other things, like food, garbage, trash cans and the like."

"Um, I don't know. I used to be able to tell the trees from the witches, the caves from the mountains. I can try." Onida tried to figure out where the box was. "Uh, I think it's near a club, because there's shiny glass. Could be liqueur bottles." Suddenly she exclaimed, "Ooh, there's another one!" Then just as she saw the second box, both winked out of existence. "What?" she exclaimed in confusion.

"What happened," Joshua asked.

Onida looked around a bit, then pulled back. Opening her eyes, she said, "The box just disappeared."

"What? You mean you couldn't find it again?" Adam asked.

"I was afraid of this," Joshua stated with a sigh.

"What?" Onida asked.

Adam suddenly understood. "The sorcerer hid it."

Joshua nodded. "Dean, Caleb and Sam confronted him last night, and apparently Dean found a box hidden at a club in Huntsville Alabama."

"So he got spooked and hid the boxes," Adam stated.

Onida stared from Adam to Joshua, then cried, "Yah delah! We spent hours yesterday trying to find a way to detect the boxes, and just as we get it, our mystery man pulls down the veil."

"Yah delah?" Adam echoed, frowning.

"Yakama curse," Onida fumed.

"Oh," Adam nodded. "I haven't heard that one before."

"You couldn't detect the boxes at all?" Joshua asked.

Onida shook her head. "They were just gone."

"A cloaking spell," Adam said.

"Can we find them some other way?" Onida asked.

"Caleb has already sent teams to the six cities to search for the boxes," Joshua said. "We'd hoped to help identify where the boxes are, but now they'll have to search manually."

"Won't that take a long time?" Onida asked.

"Probably, but we have a good idea of which clubs this man has chosen to hide the boxes; large clubs with lots of noise and music, plenty of people."

"The hip places," Adam added.

Joshua nodded. "If they're there, we'll find them."

Interstate 40 to Charlotte NC

"Let's stop," Sam said from the back seat. He'd been working on translating the smaller symbols between the four central lines on the box since they'd gotten on the road four hours ago, and he wanted to stretch his legs and use the bathroom.

"Agreed," Caleb said, stretching.

Dean glanced at his brother in the rearview mirror and nodded. A couple miles down the road he pulled into a truck stop, and all three crawled stiffly from the car. Caleb walked off, cell in hand to call Onida. Sam headed for the convenience store and the bathroom. Dean went to the pumps and inserted his credit card in the slot. After a moment, he picked up the fuel pump and started filling his tank.

Child….

Startled, Dean spun around and surveyed the parking lot, his sharp gaze covering every inch of the pump area, the trucks, the store front and the fields that framed the property. The truck stop was lightly populated. Though there were a few cars around, none were in his immediate vicinity. Frowning, he tilted his head slightly and listened intently. The voice hadn't been inside his head; he knew what that felt like. No, the voice had just been there, like some damned ventriloquist, only without the ventriloquist or the dummy being present. And there came the voice again…

Child….

"You rang?" Dean said, staring around the parking lot again. There was silence as though Piruz was trying to figure out when he meant. He was okay with that. He wasn't thrilled with being called child.

Want to talk.

"You can't get inside my head," Dean stated softly.

The tone of the reply was stilted, as though speaking English was new. Am not inside head. Yet ears hear.

"Using magic, huh? Like what, throwing your voice? Neat parlor trick." Dean had no intention of letting this guy know he could speak Latin. Glancing around, he was glad to see that most cars refueling were a few slots away. If this guy was using magic to project his voice, there was the possibility he could be overheard and he didn't relish explaining a disembodied voice.

Not trick…

"Magic, huh?" Dean stated. "Pretty good. We have magic too."

There was a sound of laughter in the air. Young one, te non noverunt vera magica. At ego ostendam tibi. (Young one, you do not know true magic. But I will show you.)

"Dean?"

Dean heard the shout and turned to see Caleb moving quickly across the parking lot.

Soon, Child, soon…

Caleb refrained from drawing his gun when he neared the Impala, but his hand was definitely on the trigger as he surveyed the vehicles around the other pumps. Suddenly he swore and slammed down his blocks, cutting off the psychic attack aimed at him. "Take that," he muttered, putting a hand on the car for support.

"You all right?" Dean asked, rushing around the car.

"Yeah," Caleb said, standing upright. He waved a hand past his ear. "Mr. I'm-so-powerful tried to get inside my head. I showed him the door."

Dean's eyes jerked toward the convenience store. Quickly he started jogging in that direction, calling over his shoulder, "Can you get the pump?"

Just then the pump clicked off. Caleb quickly replaced the nozzle and the gas cap. He'd just started for the store when Sam and Dean exited the building "You all right?" he called.

"Yeah," Sam nodded. "I was getting some coffee when someone tried to get inside my head. I slammed the door and he left."

Caleb frowned. "You think he was testing our fortifications? Like a salvo across the bow of a ship?"

Sam smiled at Caleb's description. "Maybe. I caught a glimpse of him, thought. He's powerful."

"And gifted in magic," Caleb said. "Maybe he let me see, maybe I saw more than he intended. But he's very gifted in the arts, has had years…" he broke off and frowned, "no, hundreds of years of experience." Looking to Dean, he said, "You were right. This guy is very old."

"How can someone be hundreds of years old?" Sam asked.

"Someone tried extending their life at my expense year ago," Caleb reminded them, thinking back to Agatha Hennings. "Who knows how many times this guy has leapfrogged over people to stay alive."

Dean stared into the distance, not looking at anything really, just thinking over their situation. He had a feeling they hadn't the vaguest idea of how strong this man was, nor even the remotest notion of what he had planned. Pulling in a breath, he said, "Josh is flying into Charlotte this afternoon. We've got three hours to get there. Then we'll go someplace and talk."

"You want to check into a hotel?" Caleb asked as they walked back to the car.

"I'm not sure," Dean said, frowning. Looking at Sam, he asked, "Do you think he could have seen that we know about Raleigh in your mind before you kicked him out? Or you?" his gaze swung in Caleb's direction.

"I don't think so," Sam said. "My mind wasn't on where we were going. It was on coffee," he finished with a smile.

"I was thinking about Onida," Caleb said.

"Then yeah, let's stay in Charlotte," Dean stated. "You two want anything before we hit the road?"

"I'm going back for the coffee," Sam stated. "I'm going to need it."

"I'm with you," Caleb agreed. Turning to Dean, he said, "You want the usual?"

"Yeah, sounds good," Dean said, watching the pair walk away. Turning, he went back to the car. If this guy was as powerful as he feared, he wondered how in the hell they were going to stop him.

Ben headed for his office at the hospital. He had a two hour break before rotations, and he wanted to check his email to see if anyone on the Brotherhood Medical pipeline had any clues on his descriptions of the brain disruptions David Lassiter, Caleb and Sam had experienced.

The moment he got into his office, however, the phone rang with a nurse asking for a consult. A second page had him returning to the floor to sign a prescription for a post operative patient in pain. When he returned to his office he got another call. After the fifth, he had to phone Doctor Burleson on his cell and find out where the hell he was and why he wasn't doing his on-call duties. After an apologetic Burleson said he'd forgotten to turn on his pager, Ben was finally able to open his email and check out the responses to his inquiries.

To say they were underwhelming was an understatement. No one could offer a supernatural reason for the brain function disruptions he described. A few doctors suggested a magical spell, three said a potion made for confusion. Two doctors suggested that Djinns disrupted the brain, though that was more of an altered reality than what happened. After reading through several suggested causes, from the possible to the ludicrous, it was the opinion offered by Doctor Yosef Dahan that got Ben's attention. After clarifying that he had no supernatural knowledge on the subject, he suggested the symptoms sounded a lot like either schizophrenia, which resulted in cognitive issues and disorganized thinking, or epilepsy, which caused electrical storms in the brain. He suggested treating the symptoms rather than flailing around for a cause or a label. Treat the symptoms even if diagnosing the cause proves difficult. Y. Dahan.

Ben could have kicked himself. He'd been so caught in figuring out what happened, he hadn't been focusing on how to solve the problem should it happen again. Yosef Dahan was right. He didn't need a definitive diagnosis to treat what happened to Caleb and Sam. The brain worked in specific ways, and whatever had happened had disrupted those functions on a massive scale. There were drugs that could stabilize brain functions, and he could treat that.

Grabbing a notepad and paper, he started writing down what type of drugs would be needed if there whatever was happening across the country needed nationwide treatment. While he couldn't let hospitals across the country know what might happen, he could alert the Brotherhood Medical Network.

When he finished, he sent out a general email asking his team to have these drugs ready, or find out where the supplies could be ordered in a hurry. He then sent an email to his father, saying he thought he'd figured out a way to treat whatever happened to Caleb and Sam, and outlined his plan to get the medical network prepped.

Once those communications were sent, Ben checked his own hospital's stock levels of Thorazine, Prolixin, Haldol, Trilafon, Mellaril, Navane, and a host of other drugs both old and new to treat schizophrenia. He then checked on the hospitals supply of drugs prescribed for seizures. While not in massive quantities, he knew he could get more if it was needed. Satisfied, he sent a text to Dean saying he was ready if his dad needed him; anytime, anywhere.

Joshua stood outside the private terminal arrivals gate at Charlotte Douglas International Airport, keeping a watch out for Dean's beloved Impala. He couldn't believe that, even after all these years, Dean refused to drive anything else. Thankfully, Adam was sitting in a rented SUV up near baggage claim. Though all their luggage had been carry-on, as flying on Caleb's Hawker allowed, baggage claim was a handy place to park without having to go to the lot. However, if Dean didn't arrive in a timely manner, security would insist Adam move. Suddenly he saw the Impala coming in his direction. When the car pulled up to the curb, he climbed inside and said, "We're up ahead."

Dean wound his way through the outgoing vehicles, and glanced in the rear view mirror when Adam pulled in behind him. Soon he was in the long line of cars streaming away from the airport. When he hit US 485, he asked Caleb, "Where to?"

"The Kimpton Tryon Hotel on South Church Street," Caleb said. "I booked four rooms on the ninth floor."

Dean nodded and let Sam guide him through the streets to the hotel. When they reached the hotel, they got checked in and went to their rooms; Sam and Dean in one, Caleb and Onida in another, one for Joshua and one for Adam. When everyone was settled, Caleb knocked on Dean and Sam's room door.

Upon entering, he asked, "We need to meet. You want to make this a Triad/Advisor only meeting, or include Adam and Onida?"

Dean thought about that. Adam and Onida were already working with Joshua on how to discover the boxes, they knew there was writing on the top. Should they be included even more in this hunt? While not an official Brotherhood member, Onida had certainly gone on many hunts, and Adam's contribution to the hunt on the Yakama Indian Reservation last year had been phenomenal. Nodding to himself, he said, "Everyone. They're both already involved."

"Then we meet in my suite in fifteen," Caleb said, heading out the door.

Sam looked at Dean. "You sure you want to bring Adam in on this?"

"He's already been working with Joshua to find a way for Onida to see the boxes." Looking at his brother, Dean said, "After our last hunt, Adam adopted two children, he uprooted himself from the home he's known his entire life and moved to be near Joshua so those kids could have a home and be connected to Nicholas. He's become a friend I trust."

Those last words were the clincher for Sam. There were very few outsides to their world that Dean would say he trusted. Smiling, he nodded. "Then let's get to figuring all this out."

They met in the main living room of Caleb's suite and sat around the large dining room table.

Joshua started by telling them how he and Adam had worked on finding a way for Onida to track the boxes. "We found a way that worked and Onida could see them, but the boxes are now gone."

"Piruz cloaked them," Sam stated. Looking to Dean and Caleb, he continued, "We tipped him off."

Joshua nodded. "That's what we believe. So anyone looking for them will have to do so the old fashioned way; location by location. I considered that maybe James could find them, giving his clairvoyant skills. However, if the boxes are magically masked, I don't believe he'd be able to find them either."

"I've got teams on the ground searching for the boxes," Caleb said. "But it's going to be tough in the larger cities. There aren't as many clubs in Rockland, Ashland and Kennebunkport."

Dean nodded before looking to Sam. "You got anything on the translation?" He knew Sam had been on the phone with Alison the entire last leg of their trip to Charlotte. And he could tell that his brother was excited.

Sam nodded, fierce interest on his face. "Alison is double checking everything we found, just to make sure this is right. But the top line says Hidden in space and time. The symbol under space changes the spelling, so that it actually reads; Hidden in place. The glyph under time changes that word meaning and gives it a future tense, so it becomes Hidden until time ends."

"Okay, okay," Dean interrupted, waving his hand. "Enough with the geek. You can impress Joshua and Adam later. What's the new translation?"

Sam looked affronted. "I put a lot of time in on this."

Dean face softened. "And I want to hear all about it. But right now, we've got people spread all across the country looking for boxes with a mystery surprise inside. I've got Pierre…"

"Piruz," Sam interjected.

"Piruz talking to me from thin air, and I'd like to know what we're up against."

Giving a huge sigh, Sam relented. "All right, while we still don't know about the corner glyphs nor the symbols along the bottom of the lid, but here's how the glyphs, symbols and runes between the center four lines read:

Hidden in place until time ends,

First home of mankind

Knowledge forbidden yet sought

Warning unheeded, consequences untold: Remain hidden

Sam looked up to find everyone staring at him.

"What does that mean?" Dean asked.

"I don't know." Sam looked down at the verses. "We're going to need to break it down, look at the sentences and how they relate to one another."

"So what was the first home of mankind?" Joshua asked. Looking at Sam, he said, "Could that be the very first city? First historically recorded city, at any rate."

Sam turned to his computer and started typing. "Elijah would know more about this than me, and I don't know if there are ancient manuscripts that have additional data, but…" he picked up his glasses and scanned the screen. "There are multiple candidates for the first city in the world, but the front runners are Eridu in Sumar, Göbekli Tepe in Anatolia and Jericho, which is one of the oldest cities still inhabited."

"What about that city from Raiders?" Caleb asked.

"Petra?" Sam asked, typing. "Uh, according to National Geographic, Petra is two thousand years younger than Göbekli Tepe."

"So, why talk about mankind's first city?" Caleb asked.

"It has to be tied to the third line," Sam stated. "Knowledge forbidden yet sought. Maybe whoever made the boxes sought knowledge that shouldn't be used or known."

"Like?" Caleb asked.

"Like dark magics, possibly," Joshua said. "This sorcerer, Piruz, he's obviously working a powerful spell of some kind."

"On a massive scale," Sam added. He'd been thinking along those same lines.

Joshua continued, "Maybe these boxes contain something that would aid in his quest, a knowledge that shouldn't be known."

"Were dark magics even used when people lived in those early cities?" Dean asked.

"Magic and natural arts have been used for centuries," Onida stated, interjecting herself into the conversation for the first time. "The Yakama people are perfect examples of magic and the natural sciences which have been passed down through generations."

Adam said, "The Mattaponi people also have a long history of magic."

Sam's fingers flew across the keyboard as he searched the Internet. "Most ancient civilizations believed in magics, sorcery, visions and signs. Those beliefs were interwoven with their religious beliefs and the gods of the age. It's very possible their skills in magic were far superior to ours today."

"Even more would the dark magical arts be forbidden in those cultures," Joshua commented, "since Seers and Wise Men were intricately entwined with their religions and as consultants and advisors to their civilization's leadership."

"People have always realized what's good and bad," Dean said thoughtfully. "Most people would have rejected the dark arts even in ancient times."

Caleb frowned. "So we think these boxes may hold a dark magic which is contained in the cocobolo wood?"

"Maybe," Sam said. "The last line warns that whatever is inside should remain hidden. I don't know what the line along the bottom or the four symbols in the corners say, but they may give us more insight into what's inside the box."

"Or how to use it," Caleb added.

"That's possible," Joshua mused. "If so, then our guest from ancient times already seems to understand how to use them."

"May I see that?" Adam asked, holding out his hand for the thin parchment Sam was holding.

Sam handed over the rubbing.

Adam studied the small glyphs. After a moment he sighed. "Sorry," he said, handing the paper back. "Since many Eastern languages are represented, I wondered if there might be some ancient South American or Indian dialects. Quechua is the oldest known written language of South America; it influenced many of the Native tribes here."

"Nothing?"

Adam shook his head.

"Then at this time, it appears all the languages on the box have their origins in the Middle East, in all probability like our mystery man," Sam said, smiling at his brother, who had already deduced the man was middle eastern.

"Then we must double our efforts to understand the full translation of the lid," Joshua said.

"I'll check in with Alison again," Sam said. "Maybe the team has gotten further."

"Up till now I've been more focused on creating a spell that would allow Onida to see the boxes," Joshua said apologetically, "but Adam and I will scrutinize the symbols as well, see about their magical connections."

Dean nodded. "Thanks."

"What are we going to do if we can't read the writing on the bottom?" Onida asked, looking around the table.

Every eye went to Dean, who said, "Open the box."

Daniel Rios and Joel Newbridge drove into Huntsville Alabama just before the end-of-day traffic. Interstate 565, however, was still crowded enough to give Joel time to survey the clubs lining the freeway.

"You want to stay here tonight and go on to Charlotte in the morning?" Daniel asked.

Joel looked around. They wouldn't be able to search the clubs until late tonight. "Stay. It's a seven-hour drive, more with stops for gas and coffee. I'd rather not do that after we search the clubs."

Daniel swung the Chevy toward the airport, where he knew there were several middle end hotels to choose from. "Then let's get a hotel and rest a bit, head out around ten tonight. Hopefully the crowds will provide cover for us so we can search for the boxes."

They drove in silence for a bit before Joel looked up from his cell and said, "Huntsville isn't that big of a city, but they sure like their entertainment. There are dozens of clubs here."

"Caleb said ignore the Sports Pubs and the neighborhood bars, and focus on the clubs and bars with noise and lots of young people. I think he sent over some names."

"I've got them here," Joel said. "Dean took the box from…" he looked at a piece of paper on his hand, "Sammy T's, but the perp maybe have planted another later that night, so we'll check it out. Then there's Reflections Lounge and Entertainment. That's where Dean first saw him. They went back there and checked for a box, but it looks like our boy dug it up. We'll take a quick look anyway, make sure he didn't put it back before he blew town. But there's a crap ton of others."

Daniel took the next off ramp off the freeway. "Va a ser una noche larga."

"Damn right it's gonna be long night," Joel agreed.

.

The pair checked into a Best Western, then got a couple of hours sleep before leaving again to have a meal at one of the small restaurants near their hotel.

When they got their orders, Daniel dug into his chicken plate while eyeing his partner's meal of a burger and fries. "You're going to die of a heart attack if you don't start to eat better."

"I think the monsters will do me in first," Joel stated, giving his partner a fierce grin. "I plan on enjoying life while I can."

Daniel rolled his eyes. He and Joel both hunted full time. He'd first met his partner after Joel's wife had been killed by a banshee. Devastated and distraught, Joel had been on the fast track to personal destruction when Daniel intervened and told him he wasn't crazy, explained what was out there. Daniel himself had experienced loss when his fiancée had been murdered three years before. He'd brought Joel to Dean and Caleb, and Caleb had supervised Joel's training. The two of them had been partners ever since.

But he knew that someday he wanted to marry, to possibly have a family like the Dean. Daniel knew that Winchester had hunted since he was a child and had never thought he'd be in a position to have a family. It was to his great surprise that he did. Daniel held that possibility out before him like a beacon, and he wanted the same for Joel. They just needed a few more years, then he planned on getting his friend a wife.

Following their dinner, Joel texted Caleb saying they were now out looking for the boxes, promising to touch base when they'd finished. Their first stop was The Nook. It wasn't a large club, but Joel walked the boundary, searching for any disturbed earth while Daniel kept watch. The next three clubs they checked were built atop a cement foundation; therefore there was no earth around the outside in which to bury a box. To be thorough, however, they checked the base of the garbage cans and the nearby buildings.

When they got to Reflections, Daniel kept watch around the front of the club while Joel searched the rear. Finally, he came around and said, "Nada."

"Guess our boy didn't return."

"Would you? He might even have put the boxes in other places besides the clubs, since that's where he met up with Dean," Joel said, walking with Daniel to their vehicle. "He knows we're on to him."

"Maybe, but we've got to check them anyway," Daniel said.

"Agreed," Joel stated, starting the truck and pulling out onto the road.

They checked Sammy T's again, The Voodoo Lounge, Side Tracks Music Hall and so many others. At Club Forty7, they investigated both sides of the building, but Joel stopped them before they could search the back.

"Hang on." Sounds from behind the club had Joel taking a quick peek around the corner of the building. "There's a guy puking back here."

"Great," Daniel grimaced, making a face.

After ten minutes the guy's buddy came to the back door and shouted, "Come on, Ashton! Aren't you done yet?"

Joel looked around at Daniel and mouthed, Ashton?

Daniel grinned.

When the guy finally disappeared back inside, they walked around the side of the club.

"Don't go over there," Joel warned. "That's where the puke is."

"Hate to tell you, but there's probably puke all around here," Daniel stated, searching the ground near the building.

"Well, that pile's fresh, so avoid it," Joel muttered, squinting down at the base of the wall for disturbed earth. "I have to ride in the truck with you."

Daniel snorted out a laugh. Kneeling close to the west corner, he rummaged in some loose dirt before saying, "Hey, I feel something," then he carefully pulled the box from the ground. "Eureka!"

"'ahsant ya sadti."

Joel had his gun in his hand and aimed at the man standing behind them before Daniel had even risen. Daniel's weapon was in his hand a fraction of a second later.

The sight before them was the strangest either man had ever seen. A young man with dark hair and slight build, obviously one of the partiers from inside the club, was staring at them; eyes completely white, a fierce snarl on his face. How he had come up behind them was a mystery. One second the rear of the club was empty, the next, not.

"Thrall," Daniel murmured, covertly slipping the box into his pocket.

"Who are you?" Joel asked.

The man ignored the question.

Joel glanced at Daniel, then moved slightly to the left. If they were separated, there were two targets instead of one.

The man didn't move; merely watched them. Finally he opened his mouth. It was a moment before he said, "Latina?"

Daniel glanced at Joel before saying, "Español."

The man frowned a moment, then sighed. Taking a breath, he said, "Leave. Box."

Daniel shook his head. "Can't."

The man nodded sadly.

Suddenly Daniel found himself flying backwards about twelve yards, and crashing loudly into a cluster of trashcans stacked against a rickety fence by the convenience store next door to the club.

Joel was firing at the man, though it appeared none of the rounds were making contact. A second later his gun flew from his hand and he was flat on his back. "Damn it," he growled, pushing himself up. The moment he gained his footing the white-eyed man waved his hand, and Joel flew back another fifteen yards. "This is getting old," he muttered as he climbed to his feet once more. This time he zigzagged as he ran forward, hoping to make a more difficult target.

Daniel had disentangled himself from the trash cans, firing as he climbed free. They couldn't keep up this racket. The sounds of the crashing trash cans and gun fire would definitely be heard from the street, and it was sure to penetrate the blare of music inside the club any moment, bringing partiers into the line of fire. The man must have thought the same thing, for he waved a hand at Daniel, and Daniel's gun disappeared. "What the…?"

Joel was running toward Daniel when suddenly a spot of impenetrable darkness shone to Joel's left. Frowning, Daniel squinted. It was the size of a basketball. Joel was running and dodging, trying to make it harder for the man to track him. Shouting, Daniel yelled, "Watch out!" Dropping into a crouch, he yanked his backup piece from his ankle holster and began firing.

Joel glanced behind him and frowned, not seeing the window on his left.

Daniel grabbed a potion pack from his pocket, courtesy of Ryker, and hurled it at the man, thankful both Joshua and Ryker kept those hunters with an interest supplied with small Mylar packets of spells.

The white-eyed man stumbled back, but his face remained blank as he steadied his stance and started for Daniel.

Joel stuck a hand in his pocket for a packet, and that's when he saw it. Mouth dropped open in surprise. "What the…" he mumbled, utterly flabbergasted. Quickly he tried to zig away to the right … and then suddenly he wasn't in the alley behind the club any longer.

Daniel screamed as the darkened hole widened, then winked out; and Joel was gone. Skidding to a stop, Daniel stood there with his mouth hanging open.

The back door of the club opened and a few people spilled out, some drunk, some laughing; all talking loudly and asking what was going on.

The white-eyed man looked back at the door, waved a hand, and the group pouring outside suddenly turned around and went back in. Turing to Daniel, he walked over and held out his hand. Opening his mouth, a voice from inside him said, "Arca archa." (The box.)

Daniel's attention remained fixed on where Joel had been. But he had sensed the man's approach on his right. Instead of turning, he continued to stare as though in shock while his left hand shifted very slowly to his pocket and he fingered his last two spell packets.

The man stopped a few feet from Daniel, watched him for a moment, then a voice said again, "Arca archa!" (The box!)

Daniel turned his head toward the man, just his head, keeping his left arm from sight. "Who are you?"

The white-eyed man merely stood there, blank-faced and still.

Daniel stared directly into the white eyes and said, "I'm talking to the one inside this man. Who are you?" Again, the man didn't speak, so he said again, "¿Quién eres tú?"

After a moment, the man opened his mouth, and finally said, "Quis metus."

Daniel frowned. "¿Qué?" then again, "What?"

It was odd seeing this strangely blank person tilt his head like a bird, those eerie white eyes staring at him. But finally the man said, "Fear."

Daniel had his potions in his hand, but he still had to ask, "Where is he?" When the thrall didn't respond, he pointed to where Joel had been a moment before and repeated, "¿Donde esta el?"

The man cocked his head and repeated slowly, as though tasting the words, "¿Donde esta el…" Frowning a moment, he said, "He … is … "

Suddenly Daniel was in motion. Spinning, he hurled the two potion packets at the man. Then without waiting even a second to see whether the dual packs had knocked the man out, he pelted down the alley beside the club, running all out with everything he had. At the sidewalk he flung himself to the right in front of the convenience store, raced past a darkened store and to the bowling alley on the far side. There he dodged cars and people, slowing slightly when he got to the center of the parking lot, then he dove under a Honda Accord, a vehicle known to sit lower to the ground. He didn't want to be easily seen. People were milling around the lot, talking and drinking beer, flowing casually between the building and the parking lot. Snagging a masking pouch from inside his front shirt pocket, he slipped it around his neck. Hesitating only a moment, he peeked out from under the car. There were no feet in his general area, so he rolled out from under the Honda and under another couple vehicles until he was a few cars away from where he'd donned the masking pouch.

Hidden beneath what he thought was a Subaru, Daniel tried to still his wildly beating heart even as sorrow tore through his body. Even using a thrall, this sorcerer was dangerous; Caleb had told them to beware and watch out. He couldn't be caught, not with the box in his pocket. The masking spell needed to be enough to hide them both. Ryker did good work with spells and potions, he could trust them. Closing his eyes, Daniel forced himself to blank his mind and still his heart. He needed to be the breeze; unseen, unheard, unfound.

Piruz crashed back on the bed in his bedroom at Savannah's Kehoe House, panting and sweating. Those last potions had knocked him clean away from the body of the man he'd taken over. Slamming his fist into the mattress and swore, "ealayk allaeanat!"

Shoving himself up, he rushed back to his potions and bowls and tried to get back into his slave's body, but the man was quite dead. It would take far too much energy to raise him and use him again. Gripping the edge of the table, he hissed a long familiar curse, "Usella Mituti Ikkaly Baltuti!" (Rise up the dead and consume the living!) Clenching his fists, he refrained from knocking all the bowls from the table. He did not want to create a disturbance in this place. When his anger was under control, he took a few measured steps back and sat atop the soft mattress. Those two men were from Merlin's Child; he had felt their intrusion. Cloaking the boxes prevented the warriors from seeking their positions by magical means; it didn't stop them from finding them physically.

Growling, he stood and paced the room. These followers of Merlin were starting to be a nuisance and a hindrance. While he was somewhat amused, he couldn't allow himself to be distracted. Merlin's Child knew not the depth of his plan, of that he was certain. Merlin himself hadn't known that. However, his plan would need a bit of revising. It wasn't enough to merely cloak the boxes, not anymore.

Going back to the table, he began to clear up the remains of his former work, setting the stage for the new. Putting his plan into action sooner than planned would not affect the outcome if he could finish the work in three days. If he couldn't, the spell would break down. But this generation of warriors, even with Merlin's seal of approval, was not like the magicians of old. In those days magic was an extension of one's self. In these modern days, technology was the extension and magics the appendage. Once the spell was active, he would need to deal with the children of Merlin. Cut off the head and the body dies.

With the tabletop clean, Piruz laid out six silver bowls; six cities. Stepping back, he knelt on the carpeted floor and said, "Ati me peta babka, ana harrani sa alaktasa la tarat erset la tari. Baraggal, sharaf earmali." (Gatekeeper, open your gate for me to the road whose course does not turn back. Holy of Holies, honor my work.)

Standing, he began chanting softly under his breath as he carefully ladled ingredients into the bowls, moving with deliberation and methodical movements. The creating of a potion was just as important as the potion itself. Every word said correctly, every ingredient added with precision, every mixture blended with care. Though excitement rippled along his skin like an electric current, he kept his focus. Centuries of practice made that easy. Yes, tonight his plan would be put into action, and tomorrow, he would deal with Merlin's Chosen.

Daniel didn't know how long he lay beneath the car in the parking lot, but the sounds of laughter and drinking had grown more raucous for awhile, and since then had waned. If he knew anything about bowling alleys, families came to bowl early in the evening, then traffic for partiers rose from ten o'clock on through the midnight hours. So he figured it had to be after one or close to two in the morning. Pulling in a slow breath, he knew he couldn't stay here all night. If he rolled out from under the car and the man was there, then so be it.

Cautiously and carefully, Daniel scooted to the edge of the car and looked out. There were no shoes or legs that he could see, so he rolled out from under the car frame. Scrambling quietly into a crouched position, he surveyed the lot. Edging to the back of the car for a look, then up to the front to check over the hood. The man he and Joel had met earlier had been slender, but tall. He would see him if he were here waiting. Slowly he stood stiffly and edged around the lot toward the bowling alley. A tipsy man stopped him, offering a beer, which he declined with a smile, encouraging the guy to have a good time. When he got to the building, he jogged around the side to the back. There were open spaces between the bowling alley and the convenience store, though a rickety fence stood between the convenience store and the club. It was along that fence that the garbage cans had stood.

Nodding once to himself, he jogged along the rear of the two buildings until he got to the fence. Lights were coming from the back of the club, and a look over the top of the fence showed several policemen and plain clothed detectives working a crime scene. They had to be investigating the man whom the witch had used as a thrall. The strain must have killed him, and that meant the witch was no longer searching for him.

Turning, he walked down the alley beside the convenience store and out onto the street where dozens of people were milling around and talking about the murder behind the club. As casually as possibly, he walked toward his and Joel's Chevy, making sure to keep an eye out for any other white-eyed zombies.

It wasn't until he was in the truck and driving away from the club that he released the tight grip he'd had on his emotions. Joel was gone. He couldn't help replaying Joel's comment about the monsters getting him first, so he was going to enjoy his burger. Tears welled in Daniel's eyes and streamed down his cheeks. Vision blurred, he pulled off to the side of the road until he could see properly. Joel, so quick with a laugh, so earnest in wanting to learn Spanish though he was atrocious at it, so sentimental when he thought Daniel wasn't looking.

Finally Daniel ran a hand over his wet face and scrounged around for some napkins to blow his nose. He stared out the window of the truck for a long time before he looked around for the list he and Joel had been working on. Hunters picked up the pieces and carried on. He still had a job to do. Snagging a pen from the dash, he circled Club Forty7 and put one beside it. After he typed the next location into his GPS, he glanced over his left shoulder and pulled back onto the road.

.

It was close to three in the morning when he pulled into the lot of the Best Western. Instead of going in, he just sat there in silence for several minutes before he finally pulled out his phone.

"Where have you two been?" Caleb demanded the moment he picked up. His voice was rough with weariness and sleep. "You should have checked in hours ago. Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Daniel said woodenly.

Instantly Caleb knew. "Joel?"

"Gone."

There was a long, low sigh. "Damn it," Caleb murmured. "Daniel, I'm so sorry. Can you tell me what happened, or do you need some rest first?"

"Let me get it out," Daniel said, and he told Caleb about meeting up with the man who'd been taken captive by another. Yet his power had been felt, how their potions did enough to allow him to escape. Then about how a dark light had chased Joel and took him away.

Caleb frowned. He remembered Dean saying something about a light the night he'd met up with Piruz.

"I checked all the clubs in Huntsville but found only one box. I even rechecked Reflections, thinking he might have gone back there after you guys blew town. Nada. If our mystery man planted another, he didn't do it at one of the clubs."

"Thank you," Caleb said sincerely. "Are you sleeping, or coming here?" He knew that sleep would be the last thing on Daniel's mind.

"I'm checking out and coming your way," Daniel stated.

"I'll text you the hotel address and have a room waiting."

"Thank you," murmured Daniel, quietly closing the phone. He didn't want to go up to their room, he didn't want to pack up Joel's belongings. But it needed to be done. Stowing his emotions, he went inside and dealt with their duffels and computers, keeping a hard lockdown on his emotions. At the front desk he told the attendant there had been a family emergency and they needed to leave. The night manager gave them a break on the room and hoped all was well. After stowing Joel's things in the truck's narrow backseat area, he climbed behind the wheel and pulled away from the hotel.

Navigating the highway through Huntsville kept his mind occupied until he was on the open freeway. He decided to take US 24 up to Interstate 40. The Interstates were well traveled and there would be little in the way of distractions or traffic.

The road slid beneath his tires and the darkness outside matched his heart. He'd hunted alone before, years ago. But Joel had been his partner for nearly twenty years. Not having his friend by his side, not hearing his atrocious Spanish accent, not hearing his off-key singing when his ear buds were in and he was listening to one of his silly punk stations… It was unbearable; he couldn't take the silence even one second more. Leaning forward, he fingered the radio dial and whispered, "I miss you, Joel."

.

TBC