6

An angel.

Amos the cabin-boy was an angel. A cupid who came here to help two people find true love.

So said the men from the future. And Amos? Carefree Amos, the boy whom Isaac had taught to tie a sailor's knot and cried sometimes at night because he missed his home. Amos had agreed with them. The boy thought he was an angel.

Isaac still would not have believed it if he had not seen it for himself, had not see Amos vanish, and then reappear. Had no seen Amos catch a sword with his bare hand, and yet draw no blood.

There was an angel on board this ship.

An angel who was afraid of monsters.

"Why did Amos—the angel—run away from the vampire? Why not kill it?"

"Angels are under orders from heaven. They pretty do only what they are ordered to, and nothing else. Besides, cupids are...different."

Sam spoke as if angels were as common place as werewolves and evil spirits. Isaac shook his head as he navigated the ladder that led between the upper deck and the middle deck. "Do angels show themselves more often in the future?"

"Not really. My brother and I are a special case." Sam hopped down from the ladder and immediately banged his head on the ceiling. "Ow!" He clasped his hand to his head, and immediately banged his elbow against the wall of the narrow corridor. "Ow!"

"Careful. Quarters are tight down here." Issac kept his knees and his back bent to avoid banging his own head. The ceiling was only five-and-a-half feet high. The narrow 'corridor' was really a rough, temporary wall of boards. Before the voyage began, this deck had been one open room. Now, it was a maze of temporary walls made out of oddly-shaped boards, usually with curtains for doors.

"Tight? Don't they have tall people yet?"

Isaac stifled a chuckle. Without real walls, sound could carry very far, very fast down here. "Very few as tall as you. Are you sure you want to join me? I can handle one man on my own."

"No, I'm not leaving." Sam followed Isaac's cue and lowered the volume of his voice. He was hunched over now, his legs bent out at an awkward angle but his elbows tucked in tight. "How do you swing a sword down here?"

"Carefully," Isaac said. He lifted his lamp to illuminate the corridor in front of them. At this hour, all of the passengers would be in bed. It was the best time to hunt, when civilians could not get underfoot. Like Hannah Chilton.

Isaac nodded. "Yes. Now, this vampire has fed recently, so I imagine that it is not desperate enough to try to hunt again tonight. It has probably gone to find a place to hide. I say we check Mr. Chilton's living space, just to be sure, then check the cargo hold."

Sam nodded. "Lead on! Is there more space in the cargo hold?"

"Well, the ceiling is higher, if that's what you're asking."

"Great!"

Isaac moved forward through the maze of walls and curtains. The Chiltons were in the stern of the boat, the back wall of their living space was the back wall of the ship. The curtain that hid their area from the rest of the space dangled to one side like a bedraggled ghost. Isaac peered around the door frame, and saw chaos. Clothing, cook pots, and shards of broken glass were strewn across the floor.

Sam grasped the lantern in Isaac's and and raised it higher, illuminating the whole space. "Is this the right place?"

"This is the living area that belongs to James and Hannah Chilton, yes." Isaac nudged at a heap of clothing with his toe. "There is not reason that a vampire would do this."

"It looks like someone was looking for something." Sam knelt down to examine the Chilton's belongings. "I wonder what is missing?"

"I wonder who searched the room." Isaac moved so that his back was no longer facing the door. "And where they are now?"

Sam reached under his shirt and pulled a pistol out of the waistband of his trousers. "Looks like you were right, Isaac. There's something more than just a vampire loose on this ship."

"Yes. A witch." Isaac's tone was grim. There was nothing to celebrate in knowing that his theory was correct. A vampire was easy to hunt a kill. Witches were nearly as difficult to deal with as the demons they served. "But what would a witch want with a vampire?"

"Hey, Sammy! Come in, Sammy!"

The voice belonged to Dean, but there was no one else around. Isaac's gun swung in all directions, searching for the source of the sound, but the space around them was empty.

Sam, unruffled, reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black box with a stick sticking out of one end. "Hey, Dean. What have you got?"

"Hannah confirmed that the vampire is her grandfather, a guy named James Chilton. But there's a chance he might not be a vampire at all. Hannah is very cure that he wasn't a vampire when they started this trip. The change happened just a few days ago." Dean's voice came out of the black box as if the man were standing right there. But he wasn't. There was no one there, and Sam didn't seem to think this was strange at all.

"Ok, that explains why there weren't any deaths before now. But it doesn't explain how James got turned."

"Hannah says that a nasty witch is trying to seal a powerful magical object from them."

"Oh. Well, that makes sense. The Chilton's cabin has been searched."

"That would explain a lot." Isaac decided to join in on the conversation, even though he could not see the other man anywhere. "But I have never heard of a witch's curse that makes a man act like a vampire."

"We'll know more if we can find James," Sam said. "Thanks, Dean. While you're there you might try asking Anne and Thomas if they know why the Colt would have brought us here."

"Because the spell doesn't work right, Sam!"

"Maybe. Just ask. Ok?"

"Yeah, ok. You bring Hannah's grandfather back alive."

"Agreed," Isaac said. "If you explain how this—thing—works. Are you still in the Winchester cabin?"

Isaac could hear Dean chuckle. "Yep. The future has some good things, Isaac. Some very good things. If my phone has enough juice, I'll even show you something called a 'movie.'"

Sam returned the black box to his pocket. "Alright. We try to capture James and see if there is a way to help him. Where would he go to hide?"

The shuffle of footsteps caused both men tot run around. James Chilton stood before them, hat in his hands, his shirt covered in vomit, and a spark of hope in his eyes.

"Do you really think you can help me?"