Book 45 - Season Of Truth, Season Of Death

by GailDunn2

WARNING: ADULT THEMES AND SITUATIONS. The Beast has arrived, and the Angels face yet another crisis. An old enemy of Team Free Will has returned, with a deadly surprise for the Winchesters. Unlikely alliances form as sides are chosen, and overseas, battle lines are being drawn. How many lives will be sacrificed along the way?

3. Could It Be Magic

Chapter 3 – Could It Be Magic

It had been very difficult getting through the next couple of months without seeing or talking to Sam or Dean, but the Angels had been keeping tabs on them, of course. Bobby had remarked dryly that it was as if they'd forgotten who the boss of Heaven was. Either that, or maybe they thought he was still operating under the belief that Damien was a Winchester. But, in any event, even though they moved from place to place, Bobby knew exactly where they were at any given time.

Cas and Gail had roped their family members into helping them too, by calling the brothers once in a while to find out how they were doing. After a bit of a heated debate, it was decided that they should let the human members of their family know what was going on. This went against Cas's nature, but he had to admit that they would be doing a disservice to their friends if they didn't warn them. What if Sam and Dean turned up at one of their households, with Damien in tow? Just because it was of some benefit to Damien and Vincent to keep the Winchesters alive for now, that didn't mean the same would hold true for any of their other loved ones. And as far as the Winchesters themselves, why would the boy tip his hand and kill the brothers now, when they were due to die soon from Abbadon's poison, anyway?

Barry and Mike had been skeptical when Cas and Gail had popped up to Canada to explain the situation, but Carolyn had believed the Angels immediately. She and Tommy had grown up in a strictly religious household. Stories about the Beast of the Apocalypse had been like bedtime stories for her and her siblings. The Devil can assume many pleasing shapes, she had said, sounding just like her father for a moment. That had made Gail think of Abbadon, and she had done the slow burn. They were dealing with far greater issues right now, but the next time Gail saw that Demon woman, she was going to tell Abbadon that if she ever looked at Cas like that again, Gail was going to go all avenging Angel on her ass.

Then Carolyn had gone on to talk about Angels and Demons, Legion, Beasts, and False Prophets, and Gail's eyes had started to glaze over. Thankfully, Barry had come to her rescue by inviting her to the kitchen to keep him company while he was making dinner, leaving Cas and Carolyn to their protracted theological discussion.

Gail supposed she should really know more about that kind of stuff, going forward, but her heart hadn't been in it. It was so weird, not being able to go to the bunker and see Sam and Dean. New Year's Eve had come and gone, and instead of having a family get-together, they'd ended up popping from house to house, like ghosts. They'd had drinks with all of their human friends and family, finally ringing in the New Year at Frank's house. Frank had gotten drunk, and then he had gotten mad. What the hell was the matter with this crazy family, anyway? Since when did his sister and the rest of the Angels he knew go in for this religious crap? Ummm...what? Gail had asked her brother incredulously. She knew what he meant, Frank had retorted irritably. This was so stupid. He didn't know anything about any so-called Beast, and he didn't care. All he knew was that they should all be together, hoisting a few to celebrate the New Year. The Winchesters were his brothers, too. Then Gail had started to cry, and Bobby had called Frank an idjit, and Cas had glared at his brother-in-law, grabbed Gail's hand, and popped her over to their house. She had cried some more, saying that none of this was fair. Cas had agreed, holding her tightly. His heart had been breaking, too. Sam and Dean's absence left a huge void in their lives, one that Cas was feeling just as much as Gail was. But he had drawn on his training in Heaven's Army and borne the loss stoically. In a strange way, it helped Cas when Gail became emotional, because he could fulfill his function as her pillar of support.

He had cuddled her that night until her tears had dried, and then Cas had said softly, "Let me fill you up with my love. Let me be everything to you, as you are to me."

Then Gail had felt like crying again, because he was being so sweet. But she'd known how much he missed Sam and Dean too, and how much it hurt Cas's heart to see her cry.

Well, they couldn't do anything about that until the Druid parade at Mardi Gras, at the end of February. But they could make sure that the remainder of their family didn't fragment because of it, Cas had said firmly. Then he had smiled at Gail, asking her who would have ever imagined that two flannel-wearing, beer-drinking bachelor brothers would have turned out to be the focal point of the universe, and she had laughed dutifully. Until they were reunited with Sam and Dean, Cas went on, they were going to have to make sure to keep the rest of the family united.

Nicole had been helpful in that regard. Due to her and Gail's friendship and her affection for Cas, Dean's girlfriend had half-jokingly offered to act as a "double agent" for them. She was one of the few people whose calls Dean would still take. She had reported to the Angels that everyone was fine, but the last couple of times, Dean had refused to Skype with her. She'd asked him why, and he had been very evasive. But Nicole told the Angels that she had a pretty good idea. They had gone to visit her in Vancouver, disclosing both Damien's true identity, and the information they had on the toxic spell which had infected the brothers. Much to their relief, the Beast had been unaffected by the Aging spell, or they would have had a whole new set of problems. But Nicole reported that Dean's voice had sounded strange; like he had aged a couple of decades, since Christmas. Now that Nicole had seen everything she had seen in the past year with this group, she had no doubt at all that the Angels were telling the absolute truth. She was concerned for the mens' welfare, on a couple of fronts. Her friends had attempted to reassure her that they had a plan in place to break the spell, provided Rowena was sincere about helping them.

But Nicole was also worried about the emotional implications of what was currently happening between the Angels and the brothers, and it was far more difficult to reassure her on that score, because Cas and Gail were worried about that, too. Even once they were successful in removing the poisonous spell the ivy had cast on the guys, assuming that they were successful, how were they supposed to break the hold that the Beast had on the brothers' minds? Unless they could somehow convince Sam and Dean that Damien was not who they thought he was, they were still stuck in the current, unsustainable situation. Cas had tried to make light of it by stating that he and the brothers had been at loggerheads before, many times, and they had always been able to work their way through it. But this was the most serious test their bond had ever undergone. If he couldn't find a way to convince them that Damien was not Sam's son, how could they ever forgive Cas for committing the child's murder?

Not that Cas had any idea how that was supposed to happen, now. The Chosen One was dead, and Gabriel, an Archangel of the Lord, had also been unable to harm the Beast. Bobby had a team of scholars, headed up by Kevin, working on a solution. The young Angel had been saddened to learn of Becky's death, and the circumstances surrounding it. Kevin no longer had any kind of romantic feelings towards her, but he did feel compassion. Of course, none of them knew how dark things had gotten for Becky at the end. And Bobby and the group of Angels who had been at the bunker that day had formed a tacit agreement between them not to mention Becky's confession to Quinn's murder. Things were scary and grim enough right now, as it was.

Frank and Gail had made up since their little blowup on New Year's Eve, of course. He had called Cas's cell the next day, apologizing to Cas, and then to his sister. Jody had visited him in a dream after he'd passed out drunk, Frank had said, sounding like he was on the verge of tears. Just hearing her brother like that was enough to bring Gail to the verge of tears again herself, and of course, she could hear the pain in his voice when he'd mentioned his deceased wife. People said time healed those kinds of wounds, but people were crazy, in Gail's opinion. Time might help a bit, but it would never heal an open, gaping wound like the one that was inflicted on someone who'd lost the love of their life. How could it? Everything you did, everywhere you went, there was something that would remind you of your lost loved one. Frank still lived in the same house where he and Jody had lived together. Sometimes, Gail thought she should talk to her brother again about selling the place. But Frank was a grown man who could make his own decisions, and he had Angela to think about, too. She loved her school, and her friends. If Frank uprooted her and moved elsewhere, she would have to start all over again. Hadn't her niece suffered enough loss in her young life, already?

Anyway, in Frank's dream, Jody had told him that he was behaving like a jackass. Why the hell would Cas and Gail go running around saying the kid was the Beast of the Apocalypse if he wasn't? What could possibly be in it for them to make something like that up? They loved Sam and Dean like brothers. The whole thing stunk like a skunk, Jody'd said to her husband, using one of the phrases that had amused their Robbie so much when he'd been a little boy. Frank had rolled over in his sleep, lips twitching at that. But then Jody began to lecture him again, telling Frank he was smarter than that. Why was Vincent so interested in the boy? Just because he liked to screw with people? There were a whole bunch of other people Gail's father could be screwing with, yet he had picked the son of a guy he had no connection to, the same kid that the Angels swore up and down was Vincent's kid, not Sam's? Damien hadn't been at the bunker more than a day, and there were already two dead people there. Think about that, Pookie, she'd said, and this time, a tear had rolled down Frank's cheek. Think about it. Go on the Internet if you have to, or grab that Bible in the drawer of the nightstand on my side of the bed. I had a lot of time on my hands when I was bedridden, and sometimes, it was the only reading material handy. The Second Beast will join with the First Beast, the Angel of the Abyss, and the False Prophet to do battle with the Lamb of God and the forces of the Righteous, and if the bad guys win, it's Game Over. There's nothing that makes Evil bastards happier than when the good guys are divided among themselves. Quit being a jackass and back the Angels up, because you know they're right.

You called me a jackass twice, Frank pointed out, snoring lightly.

That's because it bears repeating, Jody had said, but now, she was smiling. I love you so much, Frank. I'd be there with you, if I could. Give everybody a hug and a kiss for me, and keep a couple for yourself. It's time for you to stand up for what's right, just like we taught our kids to do.

Where ARE you, Jodes? Frank asked her, after he'd swallowed the lump in his throat. Bobby's been searching for you in the Garden, but he says you're not there. Did you go to the Netherworld?

But he never received an answer, because at that moment, Frank had felt a tickle on his cheek, and he'd opened his eyes to see Angela crouched over his head, her hair hanging down in his face.

"Rob wants to know if you want breakfast, or just coffee," Angela said brightly. "He said I should ask you if you want to sleep in."

Frank opened his mouth to say that if he'd wanted to sleep in, she shouldn't have woken him up to ask him if he wanted to sleep in. But instead, he sighed. "Tell your brother I said he's a big chicken, sending you up to get me instead of coming up here, himself," Frank told his daughter. "Buck, buck." He flapped his arms.

"Buck, buck," Angela said agreeably. Her nose wrinkled. "He and Suzanne are smooching, just like Uncle Cas and Aunt Gail do, all the time. It's gross."

Frank grinned. "I'm glad you feel that way. Remember what I told you: kissing is gross, and disgusting. Wait until you get to be at least thirty-five years old, or fourty. Then, we'll talk about it some more."

Angela giggled, and Frank grabbed his daughter around the waist. "Tickle Monster!" he exclaimed, even though it hurt his head to do it. He started to tickle her, and her high-pitched laughter was like an icepick going right through his brain. But it was also the best damn medicine he could have taken to alleviate the sweet heartache of his dream about Jody.

"Tell Rob to put on some bacon and eggs, and a big pot of coffee," Frank said, after the Tickle Monster had gone away. "I have a phone call to make."

So everything was back to normal now, or at least, as normal as it got when two of your brothers hated your guts because you had to kill your nephew, Gail thought dryly, sitting at Frank's kitchen table. Actually, she guessed she needed to amend that last one, because technically, Damien was actually her brother too, or her half-brother, she supposed. Boy, was it exhausting, trying to keep track of all these relationships, sometimes. She sighed. If only Vincent could keep it in his pants once in a while, her Christmas list would be a lot shorter.

Wow. She'd better not say that last part out loud to anyone, Gail thought, not even Frank. He would probably think it was funny as hell, but Cas probably wouldn't, and he was sitting right beside her, looking pissed off.

Of course, to be fair, Cas always looked that way these days. The longer the situation remained in stasis, the angrier he got. Surely there must be some way to get that sword before the pagan parade? He'd appealed to Bobby. Rowena said there wasn't, God had replied. He and his former paramour were keeping in touch. Rowena had advised that she knew Marie Laveau very well, and this was the only way to handle it. The Creole witch was skittish around men in general, and Hunters in particular. Their kind did not mix well with Angels either, and if an ancient black-skinned witch were to come face to face with a white God with a Southern accent wearing a trucker hat, she would probably just hex them all, on general principles. Bobby had been extremely bemused at that comment, but he had taken her point, too. Things had been very, very different for people like Marie back in her day, witch or no witch. So Bobby had told Cas to settle down. He was just as anxious as they were to take that spell off the boys, but Rowena was the expert in this situation. They probably only had one shot at getting that sword, and he didn't want to blow it.

There was one piece of intel Bobby had that he hadn't shared with anyone, not even Cas and Gail. He had broken about fifty of Heaven's rules by doing it, but he'd had to find out for himself. So he had gone to Earth, to the city where Dean and Sam and Damien were holed up at that time. The Winchesters had put their best street smarts to work. They were staying at a medium-priced, kid-friendly motel in a city that was just big enough for them to be anonymous in.

Bobby had known their location, of course, but he had been unable to actually see them. He'd told himself that he had no choice: he had to make sure. So he'd gone to a church in the area, sat in a pew and waited, and when a middle-aged woman came in and knelt down to pray, he had possessed her. As the current occupant of the High Office, he was the only one who could inhabit a human without their express permission. He felt awful about it, but it was the only way.

He used the lady to walk to the motel where the boys were staying. Thank goodness she hadn't been wearing high heels, Bobby'd thought with grim humour, or his dogs would have been barking by the time he got there. He'd walked around to the back, and there was Dean's Baby. Bobby grinned. So much for clandestine methods. But then, his smile faded. He could sense the sigils painted on the walls and floors of the room. The boys hadn't been kidding. They must be paying a huge damage deposit, or spending a lot of time re-painting. Bobby's beard might have twitched at that, if he'd had one at the moment.

He moved back around the corner of the building and waited. Bobby knew his boys; sooner or later, they would have to come out, likely for take-out food, or a beer run. And, after a while, Dean did. He looked around, then got into the Impala and drove off. Presumably, Sam was in the room with Damien.

Bobby'd stood there, rooted to the spot with shock. Dean had looked at least Bobby's age when he'd died, if not older, and he had moved with the slow gait of an old man. That was how Bobby had come to know that the spell was genuine, and that they'd better get this mission done, and done right.

"OK, Angela's all fixed up," Frank told the group at the kitchen table. "It's just us grownups, now. What did you guys want to talk to me about?"

"We were wondering if you would like to accompany us to New Orleans," Cas told him.

Gail's brother was surprised. "Me?" he said. "Why?"

"Because we will be dealing with witches, and you're an experienced Hunter," Cas replied.

Frank eyed his brother-in-law for a moment, and then he looked at Gail. "Okie-dokie. Now, what's the real reason?" he asked his sister.

"Actually, that IS the real reason," she responded. "Well, that, and the fact that you'll be like my extra layer of protection."

Frank grinned. "Oh, so I'm like that safety seal on the milk jug that you can never, ever peel off."

"You know, that's an excellent way to put it," she wisecracked.

"In all seriousness, yes, I was hoping to have the backup," Cas said earnestly. "It'll be just myself and Gail going. Rowena said that too many Angels would upset the witch who will have the sword."

"Oh, but a Hunter is okay?" Rob said with humour, shaking his head. He glanced at Suzanne, who was looking a little dazed at the moment. Ever since Christmas, Rob's girlfriend had had to receive a crash course on everything that was going on with their family, and it had been an eye-opener, to say the least. But she loved Rob, and the more time she had spent in his family's company, the more she had come to realize what good people they were.

Coincidentally enough, considering what they were talking about right now, was the fact that Rob had been teaching his girlfriend self-defense techniques in the gym in the basement of the house. Frank had joined in, from time to time. He'd been joking that the two of them were making him look like some fat-cat, desk-riding politician. If the situation had been normal, they would probably have taken Suzanne over to the bunker and had her train with a few simulated weapons. But at least she was learning the fundamentals. No girlfriend of his son's was going to go without an education when it came to beating up bad guys, Frank had told her. But Suzanne knew there was more to it than that. Monsters, Demons, bad Angels...there were all kinds of dangerous things out there. And now, there was a Beast of the Apocalypse. Holy moly. And Sue had thought HER situation was bad. Rob still had no idea what that was. Suzanne had been feeling a little funny about that, but she had rationalized to herself that they were dealing with a lot of stuff right now, and the last thing they needed was to take on her baggage, too. Once the current crisis was resolved, she and Rob would have to have a heart-to-heart.

"So, what do you say?" Gail said now, poking her brother. "Have you got any vacation time coming at City Hall? How'd you like to see a Mardi Gras parade?"

"I'd like it a lot more if you'd quit poking me," he said, swatting at her hand. But he was considering the offer, and he was considering it very seriously. He hadn't been anywhere in ages, not since...he couldn't even remember. Since before Angela, probably. Aw, geez. Angela.

Rob read Frank's expression correctly. "I can look after Angela, if you want to go, Dad."

"Yeah?" Frank said, his expression brightening.

"Actually, if you don't mind, I can stay here and help out while you're gone, too," Suzanne piped up.

Frank looked at her for a minute. He liked her fine, and by now, he knew she wasn't crazy. She'd told him that Dr. Esmond had been helping her to deal with the loss of some family members, just like Rob. Frank had felt a little ashamed of himself for thinking what he'd been thinking. He should be glad that Rob had found a nice girl to be with. There were so many weirdos out there. Hell, half of them were in his own family.

Gail poked her brother again. "So that means you're coming, right?"

He glared down at her poking finger. "Yeah, I guess so," he replied irritably. "And, just so you know, I'll be bringing a variety of weapons."

Gail laughed merrily. It was the first genuine laugh she'd had since that whole mess at the bunker, and she blessed him for it.

Frank regarded his sister for a moment, and then, he grabbed the folded section of the newspaper that was sitting by him on the kitchen table. Rob teased his dad about it, but Frank insisted he liked to have something to read with his morning coffee that didn't have to be plugged in.

"Hey, have you seen what that asshat of a President is doing, over in France?" Frank said conversationally. Rob and Suzanne exchanged glances. Oh, brother. Here it came. He'd subjected them to this, earlier.

"No; what?" Gail responded.

"The guy's a real jerkface," Frank said, rolling his eyes. "I've been following this story for a while. I thought OUR guy was bad, but this guy is in a class all by himself. Just when you think he can't sink any lower, he manages to do it."

"How so?" Cas asked his brother-in-law, curious.

"The guy's, like, one step away from being a Nazi," Frank said with a frown.

"Don't you mean 'one goose-step away'?" Rob quipped.

Frank lowered the newspaper. "I am so proud to be your father right now." He raised his hand, and Rob slapped it. "Anyway," Frank went on, "the problem is, his poll numbers are high, because he's basically eliminated terrorism in his country."

"Well then, that's a good thing, isn't it, Frank?" Cas said, puzzled.

"You would think so, but it's the way he's going about it," Frank said, and his expression was thoughtful now. "He's also eliminated immigration, and from what I read here, anybody who's not a straight-up French-born white person gets practically treated like a criminal by this guy's government. Says here that he's instituted a policy that makes any immigrant who doesn't want to get kicked out of the country get a tattoo, identifying them as an immigrant."

"What?!" Cas exclaimed, looking at Frank sharply. "That sounds like - "

"I know, right?" Gail's brother said, raising an eyebrow. "That's EXACTLY what it sounds like."

Cas was perturbed. "But...they can't DO that!" he blurted out. "That's blatant racism! It's immoral! It's illegal!"

"Not in France, it's not," Frank said, pointing to the newspaper. "This guy Levesque says he's the President of the country, and HE makes the law, not the immigrants. He says the people voted for him, so they should just let him do his job. Then he cites the fact that they haven't had any terrorist attacks since he took office, and then he changes the subject to his upcoming wedding. The old bait-and-switch technique. He's marrying an American woman. Guess she's not considered an immigrant," he added dryly. He rustled the newspaper. "Actually, she's from New Orleans, speaking of which. Her name's...here it is. Michelle Delacroix. She's some rich society lady."

"Get outta here!" Gail exclaimed. She looked at Cas. "We know her! Well, we've MET her, anyway."

She and Cas proceeded to tell Frank, Rob and Suzanne about the circumstances behind having met Michelle in New Orleans. What a weird coincidence. It was funny, too, because she'd had a crush on Dean, Gail said with a smile. "But he said he couldn't date her, because he was married. Yeah, he was – to me!"

Now it was Suzanne's turn to be shocked. "To YOU?" she exclaimed.

Gail was still smiling, although she felt sad now, too. What she wouldn't give to have a really fun argument with Dean right now. She sighed. "Sometime, when we don't have a few dozen life-threatening situations hanging over our heads, we'll have to set aside a few days to tell you everything you've missed," she said with more than a touch of sarcasm.

"So...never?" Suzanne ventured. Rob, Frank and Gail favoured her with a laugh.

"I think you're going to fit in very well around here," Gail said to the young woman. "OK, well, Cas and I are going to go home and pack. We'll come get you tomorrow morning," she added, looking at her brother.

"Tomorrow? Uhh...I need a bit of notice, kiddo," Frank said incredulously. "People who have jobs can't just take off from them whenever they want, you know."

Her face fell. She hadn't even thought of that. She and Cas exchanged looks again. They realized that, compared to many others, they had certain things pretty easy. They could come and go as they pleased, and they never had to worry about jobs, or money. Well, except for that one time, when they'd been on the run from Heaven. But even back then, she'd gotten a job on no references and no experience, and Cas had won money playing poker at the casino, and then he'd gotten the job on the Supernatural TV show.

"Ahhh, I'll take a leave of absence for a few days," Frank said quickly, seeing the dismayed look on his sister's face. He'd just been giving her a hard time. There was no way he was missing this. New Orleans, Mardi Gras, and the chance to hang out with Cas and Gail, and help Sam and Dean in the process? Maybe they could introduce him to this Michelle Delacroix lady, when they were there. Frank could tell her to smack her future husband upside the head, and tell him to smarten up. Suddenly, his expression brightened.

"Hey, maybe the President of France instituted that policy because it's the Fascist way to get things done!" Frank wisecracked. "Get it? The 'Fascist' way? Huh? Huh?"

Suzanne laughed dutifully, but Rob groaned, and Gail rolled her eyes. Cas didn't react at all. He was looking past the group, off into the distance. Gail recognized that look. "Har, har," she said to her brother, extending her hand to her husband to take. "We'll see you tomorrow, then."

"Aww, come on. That was funny," Frank protested with a half-shrug. But he wasn't too vociferous about it. You couldn't win them all.

The Angels winked out a moment later, and Frank picked up the newspaper again. He opened it to the page where the article about Benoit Levesque continued, but now, they were just mainly talking about the upcoming spring wedding. Whatever. They were a nice-looking couple, but Frank wished that Michelle woman luck with the guy. He tossed the paper back down on the table. Had Cas and Gail stayed just a minute longer, they would have recognized both of the people in the picture. Benoit Levesque, the President of France, was the former leader of the white supremacist terrorist organization Les Rebelles Blancs. The only survivor of the racist group that Cas and Gail and Sam and Dean had infiltrated in Paris before, when they had been on the Tablet quests. And he had also been one of the testers in Vincent's compound, and the Angels knew that he and Dr. Roarke had spirited away some of Vincent's "special" children for their own purposes, whatever those might be.

But Frank had never met Benoit. He and Jody had left France before that whole racist organization thing had arisen, and by the time Cas had brought them all to the compound for the rescue operation, Benoit and Dr. Roarke had already departed with the kids. Rob would know Benoit from the compound, of course, but Rob was a young man who didn't read newspapers, and he was in the bloom of young love. He and Suzanne were holding hands and making googly eyes at each other now. Frank swigged the rest of his coffee, picked up the newspaper section, and left the kitchen, shaking his head. Geez. Rob and his cute little girlfriend were gonna be smooching and making googly eyes in every room in this house, when Frank was gone. If Rob was smart, that was, he thought, smirking to himself.

Frank dropped the newspaper section in the blue bin by the door, on his way upstairs. He would have to remember to dump it tomorrow, before they left.

Gary had texted his sister that he was almost home. Could she unlock the door? He didn't want to fumble with the keys and run the risk of the neighbours seeing the blood on his clothes. Again. He was starting to run out of plausible excuses.

Bianca sighed, but she closed her eyes and visualized the bolt on the front door of their house sliding open, and the second lock turning to the left. She was in the bathtub with bubbles up to her neck, but it didn't matter. She'd always been able to open locked doors with her mind.

Gary. She was going to have to talk to her twin brother about his temper. Again. He was a sweetheart, but every now and then, his fuse would burn down and he would erupt at the slightest little provocation. All it would take was for a clerk to be snotty to him in a store, or somebody to bump into him with their bag on the bus, and then Gary would glare at them, and then they would start to bleed. Open wounds would form on the offender in an instant, and because Gary was usually standing close to the person, he would usually get some on him. Then the neighbours would see him coming home all bloody, and then he would have to make up some kind of excuse, so they wouldn't think he was some kind of serial killer, or something.

Bianca tossed the phone onto the bath mat. Lucky her hands had been dry; otherwise, her brother would have just had to suck it up. She heard the front door open and close, and then she heard him thumping his way down the hall. Wow. He must still be mad.

"I'm in the tub!" she called out. "Make yourself a drink, and I'll be out in a few minutes!"

Gary didn't respond. Bianca spent a glorious moment wondering what it would be like to have been an only child, and then she gave up on her bath. There was no serenity to be had when her brother got home after one of those types of incidents.

The doorknob started to turn slowly as Bianca was towelling off. "Just a second, Gary! God!" she exclaimed. For the umpteenth time, she made a mental note to ask her brother to put a lock on the bathroom door, so she could have a minute or two of privacy, once in a while. It wasn't like Gary to try to force the issue, though. He must be really upset this time.

"Keep your shirt on!" she yelled, grabbing her robe from the hook on the back of the door. But before she had the chance to put it on, the door burst open, knocking her backwards. Bianca was so startled that she lost her balance and fell to the floor.

The last thing Bianca saw before she died was a puff of green smoke, and the flash of the blade.

"Thank you for your help, Madame Marie," Alice said when she returned to the small house on the bayou that the witch was currently calling home.

"You're welcome, my dear," Marie replied. "So, they are both dead?"

"Yes," Alice confirmed. "I killed the girl first, and when her brother heard her scream, he rushed into the bathroom. The hex bag you gave me obscured his view long enough for me to eliminate him. I decapitated him, just to make sure."

As Marie Laveau nodded matter-of-factly, Alice pulled the list out of her pocket and crossed off the twins' names. With Gary and Bianca's deaths, the number was down to 19.

Alice was very glad she had aligned herself with Madame Laveau. The woman had a formidable array of magical spells, and she was just as motivated as Alice when it came to the extermination of Vincent's children.

"Where will you go next?" the ancient witch asked Eric's adoptive mother.

Alice had been wondering that, herself. Now that the numbers were dwindling, she had to face the fact: the remaining offspring would be increasingly more difficult to kill, the further down the list she got. There were the eight of them in France, under the government's protection. The information she had on their powers was spotty at best, but Alice knew that she had better proceed very, very cautiously when it came to dispatching that group. She had been putting it off, because the prospect was so daunting. Even if she received a little help from the occult arts from time to time.

But, what was the alternative? She had already been foiled in her attempt to kill Rob, and Alice still had no idea how she could even begin to think about eliminating the Angel Gail.

If she did the math, Alice realized that she would only have nine more people left on her list if she should somehow be successful in getting rid of the Paris 8, Eric's brother Rob, and Gail. Nine. That seemed like a very manageable number. She had no idea that there was a boy named Damien in the mix, who might be the hardest one of all.

"I think it'll be Paris," Alice told the witch now. "There will be a state wedding there in April. It's the best opportunity I can forsee to have all eight gathered in the same place, at the same time. I've been in touch with a munitions expert, who's going to help me by suggesting some explosive devices. Now that my business here is concluded, I'll fly overseas and do some recon on the venues for the wedding, the parade route, and the reception. Then, depending on what I find, I should be able to get the supplies I need from one of my advisor's contacts overseas."

"Your business here may not yet be concluded," Marie told the woman. "While you were gone, I had a visit from an old associate of mine. It just so happens that the Angel Gail will be here within the next couple of days, travelling with her human brother Frank, and her husband Castiel. He is an Angel of considerable power and influence in Heaven, and so is Gail. But if I can arrange to have her come here alone, I believe I can incapacitate her long enough for you to eliminate her. She will have her Angel blade with her, so you can use that."

Alice was surprised. Vincent's daughter was coming here? Why? Was it possible? Could she really be placed in a position that was vulnerable enough for long enough to be killed?

"If you can incapacitate her, then why could YOU not kill her, Madame?" Alice asked the witch warily.

"Do you want my help, or not?" Marie inquired sharply.

"Yes, but - "

"Then, do not ask. I have my reasons," Madame Laveau said coldly. "You may stay here in the spare room, until the task is done. Are we agreed?"

"Yes, we're agreed," Alice said quickly. Like the Paris 8, as she had taken to calling them, there would not be a better opportunity.

"Oh, look! There's a restaurant that's named after you," Frank wisecracked to his sister. "Let's stop there and eat. OK, well, I guess I'll be the one who's eating. You guys will just be watching."

Gail looked at the sign on the roadside restaurant as Cas pulled the car into the parking lot. There was a giant dinosaur head on a neon sign that read: "T-Rex Bistro".

"Oh, har, har. Very funny," Gail said to her brother, making a face. The men liked to tease her by saying that she had short, little T-Rex arms, and she always retorted that it was easy for men who were twelve feet tall with limbs to match to say that, wasn't it? Thinking of the gibe made her smile, but it also made her sad. The last time she'd been here on the outskirts of New Orleans, it had been with Sam and Dean. But, on the bright side, it had been ages since she'd travelled anywhere with Frank. And best of all, this time Cas was here with her, and they could hold hands and kiss all they wanted.

The Angels snuggled together on one side of the booth while Frank perused a menu. "Boy, they weren't kidding about the T-Rex thing," Gail's brother commented. "I think I'm gonna get the Carnivorous Special. Rob isn't here to warn me about all the cholesterol. Now he's got Suzanne doing it, too. Geez, I don't know where I went wrong with that kid." He regarded Gail with narrowed eyes. "You're not gonna start in on me about that stuff, are you?"

"Nope," she said pertly. "It's none of my business what you eat. If you want to have a heart attack and go to Heaven, I'm sure Bobby can set you up in a nice little cubicle, somewhere."

Her brother eyed her balefully. "You used to be nicer," he said.

"Really? Are you sure about that?" she joked, and the siblings smiled at each other.

Cas was used to this kind of thing from them by now. He was looking around the restaurant at the decorations: caveman mannequins with clubs, and plastic dinosaurs with big teeth. His lips twitched. They had the herbivores grouped together with the carnivores, menacing the cavemen. That would never have happened, of course, but he understood that they were going for entertainment here, not realism.

"See anybody you know, Cas?" Frank wisecracked.

Frank placed his order, and while he was waiting for his food, he and Gail were chatting about Rob and Suzanne. "How serious are they?" Gail wanted to know.

Her brother thought for a moment. "Put it this way," he said, "I wouldn't be surprised if they moved in together, soon."

"They're THAT serious?" she inquired, smiling.

Frank shrugged. "Hey, when you know, you know. How long did it take for you and Cas to know?"

"How long is a millisecond?" Cas said, taking Gail's hand. He kissed it tenderly. "How long is the blink of an eye?"

Frank rolled his eyes. "How long till my lunch gets here?" he countered. "And how long before I throw it back up again, if you keep that up?"

"Oh, come on," Gail protested. "You just finished telling me that Rob and Suzanne are pretty much the same way."

"True, but you and Cas are the King and Queen," her brother retorted.

"Long may we reign," Cas said lightly, and Gail laughed.

Once they'd left the restaurant, it was just a couple more hours until they got to their hotel in New Orleans. Cas had taken care of the reservations himself, and as a result, they were staying at an older, higher-end establishment in the French Quarter.

"Wow. Nice digs," Frank said, looking around at the elegantly furnished lobby. "Do you guys always stay at places like this?"

"Whenever possible, yes," Cas replied calmly. "Sam tends to look for more...conservatively-priced accommodations. Dean, also. I've been trying to encourage them to upgrade their point of view."

Frank smiled wryly. "Well, Cas, old habits die hard. I know exactly what they're thinking: do we have enough to get a roof over our heads, gas up the car, AND get something to eat? I used to have to worry about that kind of stuff all the time."

"But you don't any more, Frank, and you never will," Cas said firmly.

Gail's brother clapped him on the shoulder. That was thanks to Cas, he acknowledged. It was the same with Sam and Dean, and Rob, and all of their human friends. Cas had given all of them generous nest eggs when he had been God. None of them would ever have to worry about making ends meet or going hungry again. He wished the Winchesters would have thought about that before going off on Cas like they had. From what Gail's brother could see, it was tearing Cas up to be apart from them under these circumstances. Gail, too. He didn't know why they would doubt their best friend's word. As if Cas would kill Sam's kid, or any kid, for that matter. If Cas said that Damien was the Beast of the Apocalypse, he was the Beast of the damn Apocalypse. Case closed. End of story. Just because something was unbelieveable didn't mean you shouldn't believe it. Look at the kind of lives they all led. They were in New Orleans at Mardi Gras, not for the booze and beads and parades, but to talk to an ancient witch about borrowing a mythical sword that would break a poisonous spell cast by a Demon who should be dead in order to rescue Frank's best friends from dying of old age in their fourties. Yeah; believability was hardly the issue, here. Gail's brother knew who he could trust, and he trusted Cas implicitly. The man had proven himself as a stand-up guy, time and time again. The Beast was apparently working some kind of a hypnotic spell on the Winchesters, or else they would realize that, too. All Frank knew was that they'd better get this situation resolved as soon as possible. This rift they had going on in the family right now wasn't doing anybody any good.

Cas had booked a suite for himself and Gail, so that they would have an extra room in which to receive guests. Rowena arrived as promised, an hour after they all checked in.

Frank was sitting in one of the armchairs having a drink when the redheaded witch entered the sitting room. The two of them eyed each other for a moment. Neither of them quite knew what to say. The last time they'd seen each other was when Frank had stabbed Rowena in the chest on that beach in the Caribbean, and the group had left her for dead, there.

Like Bobby and everyone else in their circle, Frank wasn't the slightest bit surprised to see Rowena alive and well now. He had to hand it to her: she was certainly a survivor. She had that trait in common with all of the current occupants of the room. They had all been killed at least once, at some point; yet, all of them were here now. Frank felt a wave of resentment. How was someone like Rowena able to walk around on the planet, when somebody good and loving like Jody was not? Whoever was in charge of these things sure had their priorities screwed up.

Not that Frank was going to let that get in the way of a good quip, though. "Somebody needs to write a new song for those munchkins to sing," he said, lifting his beer bottle to Rowena in a sarcastic salute. "'Ding dong, I guess we were wrong'."

Gail's lips twitched furiously as the witch approached Frank, moving slowly and cautiously. Rowena had been less than thrilled, to say the least, when she had learned that Frank was going to be here. Still, she supposed she could understand it, in a way. Usually, both Sam and Dean accompanied the Angels on these types of excursions. Besides being experienced Hunters with considerable skills, they provided Castiel with the extra sense of security he needed, in helping to keep Gail safe. Not that Rowena's daughter necessarily needed it: Gail could more than hold her own these days, when it came to fighting just about any entity there was. That was why the witch was certain enough to make the proposal she was about to make. Whether the men would agree was another matter entirely.

"Have you spoken to her?" Cas asked the witch. "Will she lend us the sword?"

"She was agreeable, yes," Rowena said softly. "But only under one condition: that Gail comes with me to get it." Rowena's stomach clenched in anticipation of the eruption she was sure would commence as she added: "ONLY Gail."

There was silence for a moment, and then Frank piped up: "I'll tell the jokes around here, lady."

"I'm not joking," the witch insisted. "Marie is very reluctant to meet with men such as yourselves. The last time she saw Hunters, it was those Winchesters, and they tried to kill her. Sound familiar?" she added tartly, fixing Gail's brother with a baleful glare.

Frank shrugged, taking another swig of his beer. "Hey, it's what we do. I'm not going to apologize for that," he remarked. "Bobby said you wanted to help us. He said you wanted to bury the olive branch, or extend the hatchet, or whatever the hell it was that he said. I wasn't really listening. So, fine. I respect Bobby, so I'm willing to play ball. But if you think my sister is going anywhere with you, without me and Cas, you're nuts."

Gail's brother looked at Cas for confirmation. As if he needed it. Rowena had better get ready, because Cas was going to tear her a new one.

But, somewhat surprisingly, it was Gail who spoke up, first: "No. I won't be doing that," she said firmly.

Rowena's mouth dropped open with surprise. "No? What do you mean, no? Whyever not?"

"Why does she want me alone?" Gail countered with.

"I just told you," Rowena replied.

Gail was shaking her head. "No, I don't believe that," she stated. "It sounds fishy to me. It sounds like a made-up excuse. You're a witch, but here you are, standing with three people who have wanted to kill you, in the past. Two of us succeeded! No; it sounds like she wants to get me somewhere alone, without protection. That's not going to happen."

Cas looked at his wife admiringly. He had been a little afraid that he might have to dissuade her from agreeing to do it. They all wanted the sword very badly, but the risk was simply not worth it. He was glad that Gail realized that.

The redheaded witch nodded. The objection was understandable, though it had not come from the source she had expected it to come from. But now, they had a problem. Madame Marie was extremely stubborn when she had her mind set on something, and Rowena knew that Gail could be the same way. Still, she tried again.

"I would be there with you, the whole time," the witch assured Gail. "She means you no harm; I promise you that. Marie and I used to be partners."

"Just as you were 'partners' with the Demon, Abbadon?" Cas asked her sharply.

Rowena let out a frustrated breath. "Surely, ye canna' hold that against me?" she said, tight-lipped. Her brogue was thicker now, the way it always was when she got emotional about something. Abbadon's betrayal had been completely unexpected, and it had hurt Rowena more than she was willing to let on. "I believed that she was my friend! She and I had an understanding. I taught her many of my ancient spells, and now, she has used one of them to betray me, by partnering with Vincent."

"Yeah, well, that's what happens when you trust the wrong people," Frank said dispassionately. Give him a break. If Rowena expected them to feel sorry for her, she was barking up the wrong tree. "Friends, with a Demon? Right. 'Partnership'? Where I come from, they call that a coven."

"I wouldn't expect ye to understand," Rowena said stiffly. "And may I remind you that you used to be a Demon, as well?"

"OK, OK, let's not let this deteriorate into name-calling," Gail said in a reasonable tone. "You both raise some good points. The bottom line is, we all hate Vincent, here. So, with that in mind, can't you appeal to Marie on our behalf?" she asked the witch. "If she's being straight with us, there's no reason we can't all meet. Maybe you can tell her how bad Vincent is, if you haven't, already."

Rowena smiled inwardly. She had considered telling this lot that, in fact, Marie already knew Vincent. Why did they think Marie had been so willing to loan them their precious sword, in the first place? But she'd decided against it, because bringing up her and Marie's past association with the man would only serve to emphasize Rowena's duplicitous nature. That was hardly something she wanted to call their attention to right now, given the circumstances. She had known full well how Marie had felt towards Vincent, yet Rowena had had sex with him at the Solstice, anyway. She had paid the price for that particular transaction, though. One of the products of that assignation was standing before her, and the other was sitting on the throne in Hell. Fergus and Rowena's relationship was beyond redemption, but what of the witch's relationship with her daughter?

She looked at Gail. "You know, I could be of great help to you, going forward. So could Marie. I know you have the aptitude, Gail. You were able to perform the most complex spell in existence, when you brought Dean Winchester back from the dead. I would be happy to pass down my knowledge, and my expertise. Had Vincent not stolen you from me and left Fergus behind, instead of the other way around, I could have taught you everything."

"That's enough," Cas snapped. "You are not here to persuade Gail to be a witch."

"Why do you deny my daughter her heritage?" Rowena said angrily.

"Her heritage?" Cas shot back. "Her heritage is of no consequence! She's managed to become a good and loving person, despite it."

"Typical," the witch fumed. "Why do you assume that your way is the only way? Not all magic is bad, you know. You came here to get a magical object that will save your friends from death."

"Which would not be necessary, had your 'partner' not used dark magic to curse them in the first place," Cas said pointedly.

Frank licked his finger and made a motion in the air, chalking up a point for Cas on that one. But Gail was becoming extremely annoyed now. "You know, if the two of them are just going to stand there and talk about me like I'm not even in the room, then maybe you and me should go get a drink, somewhere," she said to her brother.

He grinned. "And miss the floor show? Not on your life."

Gail looked at Cas. "I understand where you're coming from, sweetie, but you've got to let me speak for myself, OK?"

Cas's lips tightened a bit, but he realized that she was right. In his eagerness to protect her, and to keep her from getting hurt by yet another so-called parental figure, he had taken charge. Gail had to be afforded the opportunity to stand up for herself, though. Cas knew that. Of course he did. In the years they'd been together, he had witnessed his wife blossom into a strong, capable woman. It was not his intention to take that away from her. "I'm sorry, my darling," he said softly, and Gail touched his face in appreciation.

Then she turned to Rowena. "And as far as what you said, I'll decide for myself what my 'heritage' is. Not you, not anyone else. Look, I get how much your magic means to you. I really do. And I'll admit there have been times when I've been grateful to have it. Being able to revive Dean was a prime example. But I've also seen a lot of bad things come from it, too. That spell book is dynamite in the wrong hands. Aurielle used it against us, and so did Becky. Vincent used it to age Damien, and look at the mess we're in, now! So, no thanks. I'm good. But, we do appreciate you helping us the way you are. I just wanted you to know that."

The redheaded witch sighed, but she supposed that she couldn't have expected differently. Maybe she should let some time pass by. They were not used to treating Rowena as an ally, after all. If she could show them that she meant only to help, with no hidden agenda, perhaps they could revisit the subject in the future.

"I will speak to Marie," she told the trio. "I'll tell her that none of you will do her harm, if she promises the same." Rowena looked at Frank. "I'm going out on a limb for you lot, here. Please keep that in mind."

"We will," Cas said soberly. Despite his feelings towards the ancient witch, he understood the sort of risk she was taking. Had Rowena not been a pagan, she might have called it a leap of faith. He smiled to himself, wondering if Frank would find that amusing.

Then Rowena took her leave, informing Cas that she would call him once she met with Madame Laveau. Having nothing else to do but wait, Frank fixed himself another drink and switched on the TV, making himself at home. Cas and Gail exchanged a glance, and then they sat together on the couch as Frank flipped the remote from channel to channel.

The local news came on. "Oh, good. Let's see what's happening, here," Gail's brother said, putting the remote down.

The lead story was a quick update on the Mardi Gras festivities, and then the anchorwoman said, "On a more serious note, the bodies of Gary and Bianca Logan were found in their residence on Orchard Street. So far, the police haven't released very many details, but our correspondent, Phillip Zielinski, spoke to one of the neighbours at the scene."

The image switched to that of a middle-aged man with a terrible comb-over holding a microphone in front of a woman.

"Who put that dead squirrel on that poor guy's head?" Frank said, making Gail laugh.

The woman was talking about her neighbours. They were brother and sister, and they'd both seemed really nice. But every now and then, they would see Gary coming down the street with what looked like blood on him. Then, tonight, they'd heard a scream coming from inside the house, and a woman they didn't recognize came rushing out of the house, a few minutes later.

The reporter asked the witness if she could tell him what the woman looked like, and she said, "I can do better than that. I got a picture of her, on my cell phone." The woman took the phone out of her pocket and showed it to Zielinski, and he motioned to the cameraman to get a close-up of the screen as she turned the phone around in her hand.

"Is this the face of a murderer?" the reporter said dramatically.

The three occupants of the hotel room gaped at the TV. "You're damn right it is!" Frank shouted.

They talked about the subject for a while, until they reached a consensus: Now, their mission here was twofold, Cas announced. The priority was still getting the sword, because time was of the essence when it came to breaking the spell on Sam and Dean. But if they could find Alice, as well...

Rowena had called Cas and said that Marie was thinking it over. His former partner wasn't thrilled about the fact that Gail refused to go to the meeting alone, without the men. Rowena was going to try to convince the Creole witch to take the meeting anyway, but Marie was headstrong, so it would probably take a while.

Fortunately, that suited their purposes, now. It was decided that the three of them would go to the police station the next day, and try to see if they could get any information on Alice's whereabouts.

It was strange, dressing up in their fake FBI attire without Sam and Dean. They all still had the badges they'd used before, but there was a slight problem: even though Cas and Gail's appearances had of course remained the same, Frank's had not.

Gail had teased her brother about that, and he'd made a face. "Hey, YOU try to raise kids and work with a bunch of corporate stooges, and see if you don't look older," he'd groused. Then, when her smile widened, he added, "You know what I mean."

She poked him in the stomach. "A few lines on your face and a couple of grey hairs, I can see. But, what's up with this? You'd better keep your jacket closed, 'cause it looks like some of those buttons are about to pop right off. If you get arrested for assaulting a police officer, you'll have to pay us back for the bail money."

"Put that thing away," Frank grumbled, swatting at her poking finger. "Geez, Cas. Does she do that to you, too?"

"Pardon me?" Cas said to his brother-in-law. He hadn't really been paying attention to the siblings.

"Never mind, Mister GQ Magazine," Frank said, rolling his eyes. Must be nice, he thought. Cas would never go grey or lose his hair, and he would never get thick around the middle.

"Thank you, Frank," Cas said, pleased by the compliment. If he detected any sarcasm, he chose to ignore it.

"Maybe we should just lose that," Gail said to her brother, grabbing the FBI ID from him and tossing it on the table. "They're going to get suspicious if you can't show them a more recent picture."

He shrugged. "Sure, I don't care. You guys have your credentials. They probably won't question us too much. I'll just tell them that Human Resources messed up, and I'm still waiting for my new badge. That usually works at City Hall."

"You can be Detective Drebbin," Gail said with a smile, nudging him.

Frank laughed. "I'm not sure if I should be flattered, or insulted," he remarked.

Cas was puzzled. "I don't understand that reference," he told them.

Gail's brother was open-mouthed with astonishment. "Do you mean to tell me that you've never seen those Naked Gun movies?" Frank looked down at his sister. "You should be ashamed of yourself, depriving your husband of such quality entertainment."

"But...how can a gun be considered to be naked? Weapons don't wear clothing," Cas said, still trying to figure out what Frank was talking about.

Gail shook her head, but she was smiling. "Never mind, sweetie. We haven't got the time to get into that, right now. I'll tell you what: when we get Sam and Dean back, we'll have a movie marathon."

Frank's grin faded a little. Right. Sam and Dean. "It's a date," he said firmly.

The trio were sitting in Lieutenant Charles St. Louis' office a few minutes later. Cas had popped his wife and brother-in-law over to the station. Gail had already been there before, of course, when she and the Winchesters had been working that case with those sudden deaths in the Delacroix family. In that instance, the deaths had turned out to have been caused by humans, trying to get revenge. In this case, the three of them were pretty sure they knew exactly what was going on, but as the Lieutenant disclosed more details on the case of the Logan siblings, the more their dread grew.

"We have a BOLO out to all of our officers, but to be honest, this is the worst time of year to be looking for a suspect who we've never had any dealings with, before. Mardi Gras brings hundreds of thousands of people from all over the world, many of them in costumes, and masks. With those kinds of crowds, it will be difficult for us to find one woman. That's if she's still in town, of course. She might be anywhere, by now."

Cas was frowning. "Can we see the crime scene photos, please?"

The Lieutenant slid the file across the desk. Wow, Gail thought. She'd seen a lot of gruesome sights in her time as an Angel. Hell, she'd been involved in a lot of them. But to see the two young people, brother and sister, laying there, with so much blood on the floor and the walls...she glanced at Frank, feeling more than a little sick to her stomach.

"Why is the sink green?" Frank said suddenly.

Cas and Gail peered closer. "See?" Frank said, pointing. "The basin is your regular white enamel, but look here, on the underside. It's green."

"You're right. I hadn't even noticed that," Cas remarked.

"Very observant, Detective Drebbin," St. Louis said as Frank's lips twitched. "We took some swabs of the substance, but we're pretty sure it came from a gris-gris bag. If you'll look at the photo underneath that one, you'll see what appears to be the remnants of the bag beside the female vic's leg."

"A what-what bag?" Frank said, his forehead wrinkling.

"A hex bag," Gail said, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. "That's what they call them, in the voodoo culture."

"You know about voodoo?" the Officer asked her, surprised.

"We've had some dealings with it, yes," Gail responded, using a professional tone.

"Well then, you probably know that the green powder is unique," the Lieutenant remarked matter-of-factly. "No other practitioner has ever used that particular colour, before, or since. Whoever committed these murders was sending a very specific message. It's been a while since we've seen a copycat killer who's had the nerve to use Madame Laveau's method of intimidation, though. Most locals are still too superstitious to mess with her legend, even after all this time. Makes me believe the perp is from out of town. If the woman that the eyewitness saw is our killer, that is."

"What do you mean, 'if'?" Frank asked the man, perhaps more sharply than he'd intended. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. What WAS it about this Laveau woman? Now, he was really glad that Gail hadn't gone to meet her alone.

So was Cas, and it was also dawning on him now that, in a way, the revelation should not have surprised him. When Alice had used that gris-gris bag to escape her house after murdering Eric, she had spoken the incantation in a sort of bastardized French language, which Gail had advised was Creole. Now, it was all starting to make perfect sense: why Alice had been so successful in her systematic killing of Vincent's children, and why she had remained undetected for so long. Alice was receiving occult assistance from none other than Marie Laveau, herself. Cas agreed with Gail that it was highly unusual for Sam and Dean to have made a mistake like they had in leaving the ancient witch alive, but that was obviously what had happened.

Cas suddenly got to his feet, prompting startled glances from Frank and Gail. "Thank you for your assistance," he said to the Lieutenant. "We'll be in touch." He turned and walked out of the room, trusting that the others would follow.

They did, but as soon as they were out in the corridor, Frank wheeled on Cas. "OK, what the hell was that?" he wanted to know.

Cas was unperturbed. "We've received all the information he had to give. The longer we stayed, the more we risked exposure as impostors. We all know that this is not a police matter, anyway. But now, we have a dilemma: we need to receive that sword from Madame Laveau, but we also have to find out for certain if she's aiding and abetting Alice." He looked at Gail. "Which means, you will not be going anywhere near her. When Rowena calls me next, I'll tell her that I will meet with Madame Laveau. You and Frank will remain at the hotel."

Both brother and sister opened their mouths to speak, but before they had the chance, a different voice spoke, first:

"Cas and Gail, right?" Michelle Delacroix said, approaching the trio.

The Angels smiled. "How are you? What are you doing here?" Michelle asked them. She glanced at Frank. "This one, I don't know. Where are Sam, and 'not-Jeff'?"

"I'm Frank," Gail's brother said, open-mouthed. "Hey, I know you. You're the lady who's marrying the President of France. You're in all the papers."

"Don't mind my brother," Gail said to Michelle, elbowing Frank.

"It's OK, I've kind of gotten used to it," Michelle said, smiling at the Angel. "Whenever I go to France, the people there treat me like I'm Lady Di, or something. So, what ARE you doing here, anyway?" She lowered her voice. "Are you an Angel, too?" she asked Frank.

He laughed. "Not even close. We were trying to get some information on a local murder case. I'm 'Detective Drebbin'."

"Really?" Michelle said. She was highly amused. "Detective Frank Drebbin?" She struck a pose. "'Is this some kind of bust?'"

"'Yes, it's very impressive'," Frank deadpanned, not missing a beat.

The two of them laughed, and Gail grinned, both at the quotes from the movie franchise and at the confused expression on Cas's face. She would definitely have to schedule that movie marathon, as soon as things settled down. Maybe throw on those Airplane movies, while they were at it. They would all be able to use a good laugh by then.

"I like you," Frank said to Michelle. "You seem pretty OK, for a rich lady."

She was still smiling. "If the three of you aren't too busy with your case, why don't you stop by the festival? I'm in charge of the whole thing. I can arrange a great vantage point for you guys to see tonight's Druid Day parade. Hell, you can be IN the parade, if you want. Anything, for the people who saved my life. Are Sam and Dean here, too? They're welcome to come along."

"I'm afraid they're not here this time," Cas told her. But he was lost in thought, now. Rowena had mentioned something about the Druid festivities, in connection with the sword.

"That's too bad," Michelle remarked. "Still, you should come. Well, that is, if a pagan parade wouldn't offend you," she added, looking at the Angels. Her lips twitched. "Believe me, it's not nearly as risque as some of the nighttime parades are. The people on the floats wear full robes, because they're supposed to be monks. Of course, some of them strip, but hey, it is Mardi Gras, after all." Her expression brightened. "I just had a great idea. If the three of you don't mind, I could use the extra security for the Balisarda float."

"Balisarda?" Gail blurted out. That was the name of the sword they were hoping to borrow!

Ms. Delacroix looked at her. "That's the name of a mythical French sword. It was rumoured to be in Marie Laveau's possession when she died, but it was never recovered. We have a replica of it in the parade, but it seems like every year, some drunken yahoo tries to rush the float and steal it. We announce it as a replica, but that doesn't stop them from trying. If you're agreeable, maybe the three of you could ride on the float, and provide extra security. It may be a replica, but it's on loan from the museum, and I assured them they'd get it back in one piece."

The trio exchanged glances. Interesting. If Cas could arrange the meeting with Rowena, maybe they could switch out the real sword for the replica, if things didn't go well. Also, if the three of them were wearing full robes with cowls, it would be easy enough for Cas to pop in and out of the venue pretty much in plain sight, without anyone noticing.

"We'll be happy to help you," he told Michelle.

"Great!" she enthused. "Where are you staying? I'll have a town car pick you up, later." She put Cas's cell number in the Contacts on her own cell phone. "I'll see you tonight," Michelle added. "Oh, and when I do, I'll have wedding invitations for all of you. I really hope you can make it. Sam and Dean, too. Maybe I'll tell Ben that Dean and I had a 'thing'. Apparently, he was quite a playboy, before we met. You're invited too, Detective Drebbin. Assuming you can tear yourself away from 'Police Squad' long enough, that is."

Frank laughed, and Gail said, "I can't believe you're going to be the First Lady of France. That's so cool."

"It'll certainly be different," Michelle said, nodding. "But I told Benoit I'm not going to be some so-called 'trophy wife'. I really want to help him make France a better place to live. He's already done that, by eliminating the terrorist threat."

Frank was biting his tongue now. Yeah, but at what cost? But now that he'd met the woman, he didn't want to confront her about her fiance's politics. Michelle seemed like an intelligent woman; there was probably a lot more to the situation than they were reporting in the paper.

"Let me show you our engagement photo," Michelle said proudly, scrolling through her phone. "Oh, and best of all, I get an instant kid, out of the deal. No late-life pregnancy, no labour pains. Benoit adopted Gerard, a few years ago. Oh, here it is. Finally. How good-looking are these men of mine?"

She showed the photo on her phone to the three of them. Frank had already seen Benoit's picture in the paper, but he was kind of relieved to see that the guy's adopted son was black. He couldn't be too much of a Nazi, then.

But Cas's eyes narrowed, and Gail's heart skipped a beat. Michelle was engaged to the former leader of Les Rebelles Blancs, the worst white supremacist organization France had ever seen, and he was the President of his country, now? And the young boy in his arms in the photo was Jerry, Vincent's son! Gail recognized the child from the compound. He had tested through the roof when it had come to telekinetic abilities, but he'd had poor impulse control. And what about the others? Were they working for Benoit, in some capacity? Was Dr. Roarke still there, too? The Angels looked at each other, alarmed, remembering what Frank had said about the alleged racial profiling that was going on in the country. Well, it seemed that it wasn't so alleged after all, was it?

Cas pressed his lips together so tightly that they almost disappeared. Benoit Levesque had been over there in France, slowly turning the country into a modern version of Nazi Germany, and they'd had no idea. Absolutely none.

Gail was thinking the same thing. What the hell? What was actually happening, all of a sudden? The Beast of the Apocalypse, Vincent, Abbadon, Marie Laveau, Eric's killer mom, and now Benoit, the evil Nazi they'd had the misfortune to meet in Paris. Not to mention Dr. Roarke, who had drugged Cas to the point of insanity, and who Gail had once spitefully nicknamed "Mengele". Oh, and Vincent's "special" progeny, too. If they had a moment when there wasn't yet another evil entity jumping out from behind a bush, she would have to check the Master List she'd compiled of which of Vincent's sires might be in Paris, doing God only knew what for the new Reich.

But the list was in the bunker, which was covered with the poison ivy they needed the enchanted sword to cut, so that Sam and Dean wouldn't die of old age before St. Patrick's Day. Everything else, as horrifying as it was, would have to wait.

They told Michelle they would see her later, at the parade.

Rowena and Marie had talked and talked, and then they had talked some more. But they were at an impasse now, and both time and tempers were running short. Marie had refused to budge. She would lend the sword to Gail, and Gail alone. The Angels should be grateful she was even willing to do that much. In case they had forgotten, the last time she had seen Marie, Gail's Hunter friends had attempted to end Madame Laveau's life. Surely Rowena could understand why her former partner wanted nothing to do with the men in Gail's life.

Rowena did, but now, Castiel was pushing back, insisting that HE would come to the meeting, not Gail. Then Marie had retorted that he should not bother, because she would not even consider handing the sword to anyone but Gail.

They were driving Rowena crazy. Neither of them would budge, and she knew that soon, Marie would just tell them to forget the whole thing. The only reason the Creole witch was inclined to grant them this favour in the first place was because Castiel had dispatched Valentina's murderer, Marie had said, enabling their young protegee to move on. But the handover had to be made on her terms, or not at all. It was up to the Angels: how badly did they want the sword? The offer was only going to be open tonight. After that, it was going to be withdrawn, and their Hunter friends could die, for all Marie cared.

Rowena bit her lip. She knew that Marie meant what she was saying, too. "I will have Gail here shortly," she told her former partner, and then she disappeared.

Marie waited a moment, and then she called out to Alice, who had been hiding in the spare room: "Prepare the séance room, as I have instructed."

Rowena had advised Cas that she would meet them along the parade route, once she had convinced Mama Marie to let him come. They would be riding on the lead float, wearing full robes. There was an enclosure in the centre of the float where the "Druid monks" could go inside, to get the beads and glowing bracelets that they would toss out to the crowd. Cas had told Rowena that they could go in there when she arrived, and she could take him to the location. He would have his Angel blade with him, he'd said, but she had his word that it would remain in his pocket, unless he was being set up.

In a way, he was, but not in the way he would have thought. Rowena had decided that she was going to do whatever it took to get that sword for them. They would thank her, later.

Frank, Cas and Gail were talking to Michelle at the start of the parade route, waiting for the sun to set.

They had made a tacit agreement to put any discussion of Benoit on the back burner for now. The wedding was scheduled for April, and this was only the end of February. They had to take care of the more urgent business, first.

So Frank was joking around, trying to get rid of some nervous energy. "You know, I was really disappointed I didn't get a baby in my King Cake," he said to Michelle. "You got any pull in that area?"

She smiled. "Sorry. I hate to tell you this, but they don't put babies in the cakes, any more. I guess someone finally decided that it sent a bad message." Her smile widened. "So now, we just toss them from the floats."

Frank held his hands up. "OK, so, let me get this straight: It's not okay to eat cakes with babies in them any more, but it's OK to just fling them all over the place?" he said incredulously.

Michelle was grinning now. "Welcome to Mardi Gras."

"Is it true that girls flash their bare breasts to get beads, or is that just exaggerated?" Gail wanted to know.

"That's exaggerated, but I'm not going to say it doesn't happen," Michelle replied.

Cas looked stricken, and Frank laughed. "Don't worry, Bro, I've got your back," he said. "I'll stand in front of you, and take the hit."

"Of course, when you get to be my age, they toss the beads just so you'll keep your top ON," Michelle quipped.

Frank laughed again. Boy, he liked this woman. It was really a shame that she was marrying Hitler, 2.0. Or maybe she would decide not to, after Cas and Gail got done telling her who the guy really was.

The parade coordinator approached Michelle a few minutes later, telling her that they were ready to roll on her signal. Frank, Cas and Gail donned their robes and climbed onto the float, and Michelle gave the go-ahead for the parade to begin, letting them know that she would see them at the end of the parade route.

None of them had ever seen anything like it. The streets were lined with what must be thousands of people, all dressed in colourful clothing. The music was loud and upbeat, and the crowd were yelling at the top of their lungs, exhorting the "Druids" to throw prizes their way.

"Geez, we'd better go inside and get those people some beads and babies, before they tear us apart," Frank shouted to his companions. He paused for a moment. "Now, there's a sentence I never thought I would hear myself say."

Gail laughed, but she wasn't sure whether he could even hear her, with all the noise. But now, she was feeling a little sad again. Sam and Dean should be here, too. Sam would be giving them some background information on the Druids, and Dean would be elbowing his younger brother, telling him nobody cared. Then Dean would urge everybody to drink up, and he would crack up laughing, watching Cas trying to avert his eyes from all the bare boobs that the drunken young women would be flashing along the parade route.

Cas was preoccupied now. He told Gail over their frequency that, as soon as she and Frank provided him with the distraction of throwing their prizes to the crowd, he was going to take the replica of the sword inside the compartment, and hide it under his robe. And then, when Rowena got here, the two of them would go to see Marie Laveau. The most important goal was to get the real sword, but Cas intended to question her about Alice, as well. Depending on how that went, he would figure out how to proceed from there. If Marie refused to give him the sword, Cas could opt to switch out the replica of the word for the real one, and then leave. Either that, or he could just kill her, and take it. And if Rowena sided with Marie, Cas would have no problem killing her, as well. This was her chance to prove what she had been saying. If Rowena double-crossed them one more time, she was done.

Gail was concerned about that whole thing. How she wished that she and Frank could be there with Cas, providing him with backup. She realized how silly that sounded, of course. The Angel Castiel had prodigious powers, and he had gotten along quite well before Gail and Frank had come into his sphere of existence. Having said that, the night she had met Cas at the bunker, he had been dangerously low on his Grace. But the reasons for that had been complicated, involving an entire series of events that was not likely to ever be repeated. Cas could hold his own against a couple of witches, she was sure. But, like Cas, Gail was looking upon this situation as the litmus test of Rowena's true intentions. She hoped that the witch was sincere in her alleged desire to help them, if only for the reason that they would have one less enemy then, going forward. Didn't they already have more than their share of those? Besides, Gail was of the opinion that Rowena and her magic might be a lot more useful to them in the future than Cas seemed to think. If they could trust her, that was. If.

"Hey, check it out," Frank said loudly, breaking into his sister's reverie. As they got further along on the parade route, they were starting to see a wide variety of people. There were young people, older tourists, people dancing, men in drag, and young ladies in various states of dress. Or undress, in many cases. Wow. This was definitely a new experience.

"Sorry, fella. No passengers allowed," Frank said, standing in front of a person wearing a bright red curly wig, who was trying to clamber onto the slow-moving float.

"It's me, ya daft dobber," Rowena protested irritably, using a Scottish term for "fool".

Gail's brother grinned. He'd known that it was her, of course. Hey, just because she was here, and supposedly helping, that didn't mean that Frank wasn't gonna give her a hard time. Finally, he reached down and took her arm, boosting her up onto the float.

"Where's Castiel?" Rowena asked the siblings.

"He's inside," Gail said, gesturing to the compartment. "The two of you can pop out from there."

"Better go with her, and get some of that stuff for us to toss out there," Frank said to Gail. "The natives are restless." The crowd was getting even more boisterous now, screaming and reaching out to the floats.

Gail nodded. They were supposed to provide a distraction anyway, so that nobody would notice they were down a monk, and a sword. She motioned to Rowena, and they both entered the compartment.

Cas already had the replica sword concealed under his robe. He gave Rowena a brief nod of acknowledgement. "We'll be back as soon as possible, my love," he said to Gail.

But Rowena seized Gail by the arm. "I'm sorry, Castiel. I promise you that no harm will come to her," the witch said. And then, the women were gone.

VIGNETTE – GOOD GIRLS LIE

Gail wrenched her arm away from Rowena's grasp the instant they appeared at Marie's.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she asked the witch angrily.

"Helping to save your friends, that's what," Rowena retorted. "Marie said that she would give the sword only to you, not Castiel. He was being obstinate about it, so I made a judgement call. You need that sword, or the Winchesters will die."

Gail let out a frustrated breath. Dammit! Cas was going to be flipping out. Frank, too. But Rowena had a point: if Marie was going to refuse to give her husband the sword, then Gail needed to get it. She had her blade in her pocket, if she needed protection. She hadn't forgotten that they strongly suspected Marie Laveau of aiding and abetting Alice in her mission to eliminate Vincent's children. Well, Gail was a child of Vincent's herself, wasn't she?

She looked at Rowena, and her eyes narrowed. "You'd better not be setting me up," Gail said to the redheaded witch with suspicion in her tone.

"Setting you up?" Rowena echoed, surprise in her voice. "For what? Believe me, I know that Castiel would hunt me down until the end of time, if I let anything happen to you. The entire point of extending the olive branch was to be an ally to all of you, going forward." She sighed. "I understand how you might have some trouble trusting me, but - "

Gail interrupted her. "Well, maybe if you didn't keep pulling crap like this, we could trust you more."

Rowena was growing frustrated now, too. She felt like stamping her foot. "Do ye nae' understand?" the redheaded witch exclaimed in her thick brogue. "Castiel was being stubborn, and Marie said that unless it was you who came to take the sword, the deal was off! I did what I had to do!"

"All right, fine," Gail said in a clipped tone. "So, where is she?"

"She told me she had to retrieve it from its hiding place," Rowena said calmly.

Gail let out another breath. "OK. All right," she said again. "I'll just send a message to Cas over our frequency that I'm okay, and that we'll be back with the sword in a few minutes."

"Aye," Rowena said, nodding in agreement. Then, her lips twitched. "Do me a wee favour? Tell him not to run me through with it, as soon as you hand it over to him."

That surprised a laugh out of the Angel. "I will, but I'm not making any promises," she quipped. Gail sent the message to Cas, but he didn't send one back. Hmm. That was curious. She'd expected him to send back an angry message, threatening Rowena with all kinds of things. Maybe Frank had convinced him to stay calm, although Gail didn't think her brother would exactly be the poster boy for serenity either, not when it came to Rowena.

Oh, well. In the meantime, there was nothing to do but wait. The women had a seat. A minute or two was spent in awkward silence, and then Gail said, "You know, just for the record, I understand what you were trying to say to me, earlier. Even before, when you were talking about having been oppressed by men, in the past. Even though it doesn't seem as bad now as it used to be, I've been oppressed, too."

"Have you, now?" Rowena said, with more than a touch of skepticism. "And, pray tell, when would that have been?"

Gail felt a flash of anger. "Try Camelot," she said bitterly. "Your son burned me at the stake, just because I fell in love. I was given to Arthur like a present by my father, the King of France. Like a piece of property. Not once did anyone ever ask me if I wanted to get married, or not. I was just expected to do it, and shut up about it. Cas and I fell in love, and the King was bedding every woman within a fifty-mile radius, yet it was ME who was burned for infidelity. Or how about in the New World, when we were prosecuted for witchcraft, just because we were different? Just because we were in love, and we weren't afraid to show it. I don't suppose you would know anything about THAT kind of thing, would you?" she added sarcastically, warming to her subject. "As a woman, I took the lion's share of the blame, no matter what the circumstances were. When we were up before the judge - "

" - Magistrate," Rowena said quietly. She certainly did know about the subject. Oh, yes. She knew all too well.

"Whatever," Gail said irritably. "Anyway, he said that I was the one who was leading my husband to sin. He said that I was worse than Cas, just because I enjoyed being with him, and because I felt free to express my love for him."

Rowena was silent for a moment. Then she said, "I, too, have suffered from the same double standards, over the centuries. It made me angry, and bitter. Sometimes, I just wanted to take those men, those oppressors, and set them to bleed. Make them suffer, as I've suffered all this time. I never dreamed that you would have had those same sorts of experiences, as well."

Gail laughed shortly. "Xavier called me a whore in Heaven's court, at Cas's tribunal. Me. I was a virgin when I met Cas, each and every time! I don't recall HIM being called the male equivalent! Oh, wait: that's because there isn't one. Patricia called me a whore, too, when we were both campaigning to be God. I guess I don't have to tell you that she had no such word to sling at Cas or Bobby, at the same time." Wow. Holy moly. Where was all this coming from? Gail wondered. Obviously, she had some unexpressed feelings regarding those incidents, to say the least. Poor Rowena. She had no idea what she'd started, here.

Again the witch was silent, and then she remarked, "It seems that you and I are much more alike than I had thought."

Now it was Gail's turn to be silent. This was so weird. Ever since she'd first made Rowena's acquaintance, way back when the witch was scheming with Crowley, Gail had hated the woman, viewing her as an enemy. Was it possible that they had clashed so often due to their similarities, instead of their differences?

Suddenly, Marie Laveau appeared in the centre of the sitting room, holding a long black box. "Good. You came," she said to Gail. She glanced around the room. "You are alone, I trust?"

"Yes, I am," Gail confirmed. She stood from her chair and approached the Creole witch, but Marie held up a hand to halt her.

"First, we have to have the séance," Marie told Gail. "Then, I will give you the sword."

"Seance?" Gail said, puzzled. "Nobody said anything about a séance. Why?"

"There is a very important message you must receive from the Beyond," Madame Laveau said enigmatically. "Have you ever had your cards read?"

Gail rolled her eyes. "Look, I don't have time for this. Don't worry; I've already met my tall, dark, handsome man. Several of them, in fact. But, two of them won't be that way for much longer, if we don't get that sword. So, please, can I have it? I promise, you'll get it back, intact, as soon as we use it to break that spell."

"We must have the séance, first," Marie insisted.

Gail let out a frustrated breath. Wow. Rowena hadn't been kidding when she'd said that Madame Laveau was stubborn. She tried a different approach: "I'm sorry that they tried to kill you, when we were here, before. But, let's face it: that's what they do. Besides, you confessed to us that you had murdered people."

"As you have, I'm sure," Marie said coolly.

"Yes, but they were all bad," Gail quipped, using the quote from a movie she and Frank had once watched.

But the witch was unamused. Of course, to be fair, there hadn't been any movies, back in her day. Marie pointed to the doorway of the room they were in. "I have everything set up in the séance room. Follow me."

Then she started to walk out of the parlour as Gail turned to Rowena with a furious glare. The redheaded witch gave Gail a half-shrug. "I told you she was stubborn," Rowena said in a soft voice.

"I heard that," Marie called out.

Gail let out another, even more frustrated breath. She'd better wrap this up soon, or Cas and Frank were going to go nuts. If they weren't already, that was. It was odd that Cas hadn't sent her a message in return, though, if for no other reason than just to acknowledge that he'd received hers. She supposed that he was simply trusting that she knew what she was doing. Ummm... DID she?

"OK, but if I see a cauldron in there, I'm gone," Gail quipped, following in the direction the Creole witch had gone.

The three women sat at a small table in a room that reminded Gail of Quinn's séance room. Maybe there was a blueprint for these kinds of places, she thought wryly, but then, she felt badly. Poor Quinn. She'd really gotten a raw deal, hadn't she? And her family would never have closure on her death, because Becky was dead now, too. It hadn't surprised them very much to find out that Becky had admitted to Quinn's murder. They had discussed the possibility at the time, of course. But none of them, not even Gail, had suspected that Becky had deteriorated to that extent. Becky had taken her worst secret to the grave with her, though. Before she and Vincent had gone to the Caribbean, prior to Christmas, the Voodoo Priest had wiped her house clean of any evidence of hers and Damien's cannibalism.

Marie poured a glass of dark red wine, handing it to Gail. Gail took it, but she looked at the witch dubiously. "What's this for?"

"It's ceremonial," Marie told her. She poured a glass for Rowena, and then one for herself. "If you drink blackberry wine with us, we bind each other to a verbal contract of openness, and trust."

Gail was silent for a moment. On the one hand, this seemed like an unnecessary waste of time. But, on the other hand, she knew by now how much value ancient beings put on rituals like this. As long as all three of them drank, she would know she wasn't being poisoned. Gail knew that Marie would be as leery of her as she was of Marie. She glanced quickly at the box, which was leaning against the wall behind the Creole witch. She was so close to getting that sword.

She looked down at the contents of her glass. It was the darkest of red wines. It almost looked like blood. Yuk.

"I don't suppose you have anything in a nice, light Zinfandel?" Gail quipped.

Rowena lifted her glass, trying to help move things along. "To honesty, and openness," she toasted.

The women clinked glasses, and all three of them drank the wine. Then Marie opened a small box that was sitting in front of her on the table. "In the interests of time, I will not do a full reading," she told Gail. "I will have you pull one card, only." She took the Tarot cards out of the box, extending the deck to the Angel.

Resisting the very strong urge to roll her eyes, Gail reached out and selected a card from the middle of the deck. Marie took it from her, placing it face up on the table.

Gail wasn't really that familiar with Tarot cards, so she had no idea what it was. Rowena inhaled sharply, though.

"The Blood On The Cross," Marie announced matter-of-factly.

Gail was puzzled. "I admit I don't know much about the subject, but that doesn't sound like any Tarot card I've ever heard of," she remarked.

"It isn't a standard deck," Marie said in a cool tone. "It's one used by practitioners of voodoo. This card suggests a duality; a combination of Good and Evil, Piety and Sin, and the struggle for balance between the two."

Gail pursed her lips together. This was starting to sound like one of those generic readings offered by those so-called "psychics" who charged people exorbitant rates for personal readings. Hadn't she read somewhere that Madame Laveau used to go to rich white ladies' homes and do readings for them? This was the kind of thing Gail would expect from something like that. Mysterious-sounding, but very general in nature. The card reader was hedging their bets by presenting things this way. Because then, no matter what, whatever they'd said could not really be considered wrong.

But then, Marie looked her in the eyes. "I want to thank Castiel for having dealt with Valentina's killer. She has been able to find peace, now."

Gail gave the witch a slight nod of acknowledgement. Technically, Valentina had taken care of that little matter, herself. But if that was what had prompted Marie to grant them this favour, Gail saw no need to correct her. There was a tickle in Gail's brain now, though. What was she missing, here?

"The matter is far from over," Marie continued, distracting Gail from making the connection. "There are people you trust that you should not."

Gail glanced suspiciously at Rowena, who frowned. But before either of them had the chance to say anything, Marie was speaking again: "There is something that someone very powerful does not want you to know, and they will do anything to prevent you from finding it out. Anything. Lying, manipulation, and torture. Murder. These are just some of the crimes this individual has committed, or has had others commit, in order to keep the truth hidden."

"OK, well, that's just great. Very informative," Gail said sarcastically. "I know a bunch of powerful individuals, any number of who might have any number of things they don't want me to know. We're just wasting time with these vague, enigmatic statements. What's the point?"

Rowena had been wondering that same thing, herself. It wasn't like Marie to do a pointless, vague reading, like she was doing now. If anything, she had always been quite blunt with truth-seekers, telling them that if they didn't want the answers, they shouldn't be asking the questions. Rowena had liked that, a lot. She herself didn't dabble in psychic readings, believing them to be bollocks, for the most part, so she had agreed wholeheartedly with that sentiment.

But now, it seemed as though Marie was... "Why are you stalling?" the redhaired witch asked her former partner.

"She was waiting for me," Alice said, rushing into the room. She grabbed Gail's arms roughly, clamping the sigil handcuffs around the Angel's wrists in one smooth motion. Then she attached the chain at the end of the shackles to the arm of the chair, for good measure.

As Eric's adoptive mother moved over to where Marie sat, Gail's eyes widened. Crap! Alice was here?! She'd certainly taken her time, though, hadn't she? Dammit! They'd been lulling Gail into a false sense of security, this whole time.

She looked at Rowena. "Wow. All your talk about betrayal, and second chances? Better make sure your affairs are in order, because Cas and Frank are going to destroy you," Gail said angrily.

Rowena was open-mouthed. "What are you doing?" she said to Marie.

"Never mind. Don't you worry about it," Marie snapped back. "Let's just say we're righting a wrong."

"We took this meeting in good faith," Rowena protested. "I canna' let you harm her."

Alice shrugged. "Then you can die, too."

Marie looked at her sharply. "No. That was not part of the agreement," she admonished the human woman.

Gail was struggling now, but it was no use, of course. She was screwed. The sigils were preventing her from popping out, and the shackles were attached firmly to the chair. She even tried budging the chair, but it was rooted to the floor. And now, something weird was happening: she was seeing double. No; quadruple. There were a couple of each woman, and their images were blurring together. Oh, crap. They had dosed her. Great. Just great. If she got out of this alive, Cas was going to have to send her back to remedial school.

She closed her eyes tight, shook her head, and then opened them again, hoping to clear her vision. But now, it was even worse. She saw a small, domestic cat with striped markings sitting on the table, swishing its tail back and forth. Then she looked to her right, and there was a black cat, with bright green eyes. Its whiskers twitched, as if in amusement. Gail's mind was thrown way back to that time in the bunker, when Rowena had changed herself into cat form to infect the four of them with the Deadly Sins.

Rowena was still talking to Marie now, trying to persuade the Creole witch to let Gail go. She had no idea who that woman was who had put the cuffs on Gail, and she didn't care. She just needed to make sure they didn't hurt Gail. "Why are ye doin' this?" Rowena pled with Marie. "She means you no harm, I promise."

But all Gail heard was yowling. The black cat seemed to be growing in size now, until it was big enough to resemble the black panther that had attacked her in the Secret Garden. Gail flinched, even though she knew that what she was seeing now wasn't real. That had been such a horrible time in her life. Her poor body had been mangled by that thing. The pain had been excruciating. Lucifer was on the loose, screwing around with them, and Gail had had to sit in the bunker and agonize, worrying about everyone's safety when they were all out in the field. Feeling guilty, because she wasn't out there helping them. And that had been that whole awkward phase with her and Cas, at the time. That had been shortly after the Demon delusion. They had gotten back together, but were still struggling with the concepts of forgiveness, and redemption. She remembered that there had actually been a time when she had wanted Cas out of the bunker, so that she wouldn't have to look at him, or spend any time with him. That was unimaginable to her now. A tear formed in the corner of her eye, and slid down her cheek. If she got out of here alive, she was going to make it a point to apologize to him for that. Not that he would blame her, of course. He hadn't even blamed her at the time. They had worked their way through all of that, and come out stronger as a couple. And then had come the ultimate punchline: none of it had ever happened. But that didn't make the trauma they had both gone through over the whole thing just magically disappear, did it? Every now and then, something would happen to take Gail back mentally to one stressful time in their lives or another, and Lord knew, there had been a whole bunch of them. She'd recalled some others a short while ago, when she and Rowena had been talking about the past. Gail wondered if maybe she should go see Rob and Suzanne's therapist after all; if she could squeeze in an appointment between life-threatening battles, that was. Based on her earlier diatribe, it sure seemed like Gail had a lot of things to get off her chest.

She laughed at the imagery of a human psychiatrist sitting there scribbling down notes, as she talked about having been attacked by a Demonic jungle cat in the middle of the Las Vegas Strip while in pursuit of Lucifer, and having been angry at her Angel boyfriend at the time for being a Demon himself, when he had never even been a Demon. The next time she saw Cas, it would be when he was visiting her in the looney bin.

As it often did, the power of laughter served to snap Gail out of whatever it had been that she'd been experiencing. The cats turned back into women, and Alice was moving towards Gail now, digging into Gail's pants pocket for her Angel blade.

But Gail didn't have her blade. She had left it behind in their hotel room, she realized now. Oh, boy. If these witches didn't kill Gail, Cas was probably going to. She'd had her blade in her pants pocket when they'd met Frank for dinner and a drink, before going to the parade. She and Cas didn't eat, of course, but Frank had remarked that he felt weird, eating and drinking by himself all the time. So Cas had ordered Gail a glass of wine, and she and her brother had been goofing around, and Gail had ended up spilling half of her wine in her lap. So she had changed into a different pair of pants before they'd left their hotel, and she'd forgotten to transfer the knife into them.

Strangely, that was the thing that had saved her, in this instance. Had Alice come up with the Angel blade, there would have been nothing Gail could have done about it. But the woman checked Gail's pockets and barked, "Where is it?", and Gail smiled, because if Alice had another weapon that could kill Gail, she would have used it already.

"All Eric wanted was to have a relationship with you," Gail said to the woman with disgust in her voice. "If you have a beef with Vincent, I understand that. Believe me, I understand that. But Eric was a good kid, and you murdered him in cold blood. What kind of a monster does that? And then, you tried to kill Rob, too, and now you want to kill me? Good luck, lady. You have no idea what you're dealing with, here. None. If you go near Rob again, we'll take you apart, limb from limb."

Alice turned to look at Marie, furious. "You said she would have her weapon with her! Now, will you intervene?"

"No" Marie said quietly. "No. I cannot."

"Well, I can," Rowena spoke up. She had been totally blindsided by what had occurred here in the last few minutes. While Gail had been in the throes of her hallucination, Rowena had been berating Marie, urging the Creole witch to release Gail and give them the sword, as promised. They had made a covenant. How dare Marie break such a time-honoured tradition? If they didn't have honour, what did they have?

Marie had smiled at that, and it had been a strange-looking smile, one that Rowena couldn't quite read. But that was when Gail had laughed, and Rowena realized that she'd better take action, before something disastrous happened.

The redheaded witch bolted from her chair, grabbed the box, and shouted, "Brak exponenti Enoch!" The cuffs and chain fell off Gail, and clattered to the floor. She sprang out of the chair as Rowena used another incantation to immobilize Marie and Alice.

Suddenly, Gail realized what had been eluding her. She looked at Madame Laveau and said, "Wait a minute: Valentina told us she got the immortality potion Anthony took from a witch. That was YOU, wasn't it?"

Rowena had been rushing toward Gail so that they could teleport back to the parade together under Gail's power. But she stopped short now, waiting for Marie's response.

"Oui," Marie confirmed, tight-lipped. She supposed it did no harm to admit it, now. "It is my potion. That is why I did not die, when your Hunters tried to kill me. I tested the potion on myself, before giving some to Valentina."

"Why didn't you tell me about that?" Rowena exclaimed, open-mouthed with astonishment. This was unbelievable! All this time, Rowena could have had the secret of immortality?

"Why did you have sex with Vincent at the Solstice?" Marie shot back bitterly. "Why would I want YOU to live forever? I wished you would die! You knew I loved him!"

As Alice struggled to overcome the effects of Rowena's spell, Gail was looking back and forth between the witches. Suddenly it was like she was a spectator at one of those daytime talk shows on TV; the sensationalist ones, that inflamed peoples' emotions. Like Joltin' Joan, in Vancouver. Wow. Today was certainly turning out to be the Greatest Hits of some of the suckiest moments of Gail's existence, wasn't it?

"I can't be blamed for the fact that you were too timid to even talk to the man," Rowena said, but she knew she was on shaky ground now. Did that mean she'd had to shag him, regardless? There'd been many other men at the celebration that night, hadn't there? Women, too. Now that Rowena had been introduced to that side of things during her brief relationship with Abbadon, she realized that there were many ways to express herself sexually. Or, even just to show affection for a fellow human being. Well, so to speak. Yet Rowena had sought out Vincent at the revels, almost as if she'd deliberately wanted to have her experience with the Voodoo Priest, and then throw it in Marie's face. How horrible was THAT? No wonder Marie was so angry with her. And Rowena had been oblivious, this whole time. Or maybe she just hadn't wanted to know.

But now Alice was weighing in, and she was angry, too, at Marie. "What do you mean, you loved him? Is that why you refused to kill any of his children?" Alice asked Marie, furious.

"I couldn't bring myself to do that," Marie said in a subdued tone. "If life had been fairer to me, they could have been MY children."

"Yet, you helped me to do it," Alice pointed out.

If this had been one of those cop shows, Gail would have yelled, "A-ha!" But, really, was any of this a surprise? Aside from the source of the immortality potion, that was. She wished they had time to delve into that subject, but right now, she knew what the priority was. She and Rowena needed to grab Alice and get that sword back to their parade float. Gail still wasn't quite sure how she felt about Marie, but she didn't have the time to decide, right now.

Gail reached out to grab Alice's arm, but Marie said, "No. I'm sorry, but I can't let you do that." She waved her hand, and Alice disappeared in a puff of green smoke.

Great. Terrific. Gail glared at Marie for a moment. Then she grabbed Rowena's hand, and then they were gone.