Author's Note: Thanks for all the reviews and favorites, you guys are awesome!
Playlist for the Chapter: Twilight Zone by Golden Earring, Foolin' by Def Leppard, No More Tears by Ozzy Osbourne.
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Lisa Burns the Night
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The pain in her calf radiated fire up and down her leg, but Lisa ignored it. Fear had blanked out all rational thought. She didn't know what the hell was in that diner, but she didn't want to stick around to find out. Three city blocks flashed by, and when she ran out of breath and adrenaline, Lisa found herself in a small wooded park.
Collapsing on a corroded green metal bench, Lisa dropped her head into her hands. Her leg hurt so bad that she felt like throwing up. Thankfully, the toast and coffee she'd had for breakfast stayed in her stomach. Taking deep, calming breathes, she concentrated not on the pain in her leg, but the feel of the Heckler and Koch Semiautomatic 9MM V3 digging into the small of her back. Garth had got her her own gun, which Lisa was very grateful for. June's Beretta had become Sarah's, and it was nice to have a gun to call her own, even if she sucked at it.
Lisa stuck a hand into her boot. She could feel the smooth handle of one of her kukri knives with the tips of her fingers, and that helped too. She wasn't unarmed, she wasn't helpless. Lisa was just beginning to calm down, get her racing heart under control, and chastise herself for running away like she was five, when a man's hand gripped her shoulder. She shrieked. The touch was like sticking her finger into a light socket. Lisa about near jumped out of her skin, he was doing something to her.
The kukri knife was in Lisa's hand and she was moving before she quite registered what she was doing. She turned in one smooth motion, whipping up and around, ramming the long curved blade under the chin of the man in the dirty tan trench coat.
She stared at him, horrified. She'd just killed someone- someone who had done nothing but simply touch her shoulder. What had she done?
He looked down at her, perplexed, the knife hanging from under his chin. A slight frown creased his brow like he had missed some sort of social cue and was trying to puzzle it out. Whatever he was thinking, she could almost sense his mental shrug. He reached up and calmly pulled the knife out. It made a wet, scraping noise as it slid out of flesh and cartilage. She watched him wipe it on his coat, and then hand it back to her hilt first. She took it numbly, not sure what to do. Normally monsters at least had some sort of reaction when she stabbed them.
"May I join you on your bench?" he asked. His voice was rough and gravely, like he'd just kicked a twenty year chain smoking habit.
Lisa was wondering if she should try shooting him next, but nodded.
"I'm sorry," she said lamely, after a while. "For stabbing you. You scared me- back at the diner."
He smiled serenely. "I get that reaction a lot. You are not the first person to try to stab me on sight."
The moment was oddly surreal. Lisa was having a fairly mundane conversation with a man she had just stabbed in the head, a man whose wound even now she could see healing, the flesh knitting itself back together with a faint vein of white light.
"Who- what are you?" she demanded, turning to look at him.
He looked normal, a bit ragged, but those blue eyes burned down into the very depths of her soul, and she felt small and inadequate in comparison, like a bug underneath a magnifying glass.
"My name is Castiel," he said, "I am an Angel of the Lord."
That was not what she'd been expecting. Her brain cycled through many questions: what was he doing in a Podunk diner in a dirty trench coat, for one.
"What were you doing to me?" she asked, instead.
He cocked his head again, looking at her as though the question she had asked him was very silly. "Healing you. You have damaged yourself quite extensively, though not irreparably."
"Oh." Lisa realized then that the pain in her calf was gone, along with the paper cut on her pinky finger, the faint scars from falling out of a tree when she was ten, and the scratches on her arms from her spill into the bushes because of the Black Dog. Wonderingly, she ran her hand through her short hair and was astonished when she could no longer feel the bumpy scar at the back of her head. When Castiel said he'd healed her, he wasn't kidding. She was willing to bet that every scar, every bruise, was wiped clean as though she'd never been hurt in her life.
"Why?" she asked hoarsely, astonished. "Why would a freaking angel want to heal me? I'm nobody."
Castiel suddenly looked very sad and very tired. "You are not 'nobody.' You mean a great deal to D- to someone who means a great deal to me."
That struck her as odd, for Lisa could count on one hand the people who were still alive who would be sad if she were hurt, and not one of them was in the good graces of an angel.
"Who is it?" she asked, and then suddenly she knew. She knew it like she knew the memory of green eyes, slow messy kisses in the wee hours of the morning, scarred hands, and the smell of engine grease and baking pastries.
"It's him, isn't it?" Lisa said quietly. "The man I can't remember."
Castiel's disturbingly blue eyes slid away from her uncomfortably, but he nodded.
Lisa forgot that he was an angel, could probably wipe her off of the face of the earth with simply a flick of his fingers. She grabbed the collar of his coat, her knuckles white and her hands shaking.
"Who can't I remember? You know him, don't you, the guy I keep dreaming about. He meant a lot to me, I know he did." she hissed. "Why can't I remember?"
"You cannot remember because I made you not remember. You spent a year with him, took him in and sheltered him. He asked me to take your memories to protect you."
Lisa let him go and sat back against the bench, stunned. "Why? Why would taking my memories help anything?"
The angel shrugged. "He asked it of me, so I did it."
"Who is he?" Lisa demanded.
Castiel tilted those fathomless eyes up at the sky, studying the clouds drifting lazily along as though he could find meaning in their shapes. "He loved you- he thought he was taking care you. You were hurt by demons trying to get to him through you. He did the best he could."
"You aren't being very forthcoming."
"He wants you safe, and he believes your ignorance will help that," he answered.
"That's stupid," Lisa said, flatly.
Castiel shrugged again.
They sat there on the bench for a while, watching the odd dappled patterns of light that the trees cast on the ground with their gently swaying branches. If you had asked Lisa a few years ago whether she'd be sitting on a park bench hundreds of miles from her home, with an Angel of the Lord no less, she would have laughed in your face. There would have been a lot of things she would have laughed at you for: like ghost busting, motorcycling across the United States, and having conversations with angels.
"You were pregnant when I healed you in the hospital," Castiel said suddenly, voice calm like he was noting the color of flowers in the decorative shrubs around the trees. "That second life inside you was why I could not wipe your memories completely. I could only suppress them. That is why you remember some things, and are starting to remember more."
Her head whipped around so fast she got a crick in her neck. "What?" Lisa stared at him, shock numbing her, creating a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.
"You were 13 weeks pregnant," Castiel replied, hands shoved deep into his pockets. His posture was ramrod straight, uncomfortably so, a creature playing at being a man. "When the accident happened."
The sick feeling grew, spreading through her like a virus. "Does he know?" Lisa asked quietly. "The baby was his, wasn't it?"
"Is" Castiel corrected. "Is his. I was able to save her, though you did not carry her to term." He was quiet for a moment, then added, "No, he is unaware of both his children."
Lisa decided to ignore this for a while. Her daughter was more important. The knowledge that her child, a girl she hadn't even been aware of, was out in the world alone terrified her. "What did you do with my daughter?"
"He wanted you to be safe, unaware of him and the hellspawn that dog his heels, above all else," Castiel told her. "I took your daughter, and the memory of your daughter, because your daughter's presence would have been a source of confusion, and would have hastened the recovery of your memory."
She could see the terrible logic in that plan, if she tried hard enough. Though pragmatic in a horrible sort of way, it was a dick move. Lisa was pissed. "Is she safe?" Lisa snapped. "Is she happy?"
Castiel still had that awful, tired look on his face. It was the look of someone in way over their head, that had stopped treading water a long time ago and was sinking fast, and was coming to terms with it."Yes. I check in on her when I can, like I check in on you."
"Fat lot of good that did," Lisa growled, angry at the fact that she'd been sidelined because it had been an inconvenience for someone, that she had a freaking daughter that she couldn't remember. "I hope you're doing a better job with her than you did with me."
Castiel looked at her, frowning, suddenly seeming to realize that she wasn't the soft cheeked soccer mom she was supposed to be. Lisa knew that the line of her jaw was harder, that he was seeing the short choppy a-line of her hair, the scuffed dirty leather of her jacket, the holes in her jeans, the heavy biker boots on her feet- the list went on and on. "Why are you Hunting, Lisa? You should be safe in Battle Creek. He wants you safe," he said, reaching out to touch her forehead but stopping when she jerked back.
"I'm looking for my son," she whispered. All the fight had suddenly gone out of her, replaced only by the void created by the absence of her Ben. "Please, please help me find my son," Lisa begged.
"I would understand better if I could see your memories, but I will have to touch you," he warned, raising a hand.
Lisa nodded, bracing herself and expecting it to hurt. Surprisingly he only put two fingers to her forehead and closed his eyes. The touch was light, but it still felt intrusive. There was a buzzing in her head, like a bee smashing itself against a window. A second later he opened his eyes, looking even more tired than he had before, if that was possible.
"Well?" Lisa asked, searching his face for any clue, "What did you see?"
"What I had feared would happen," he said softly, almost to himself. "If you were left unprotected."
She was all but shouting now, seconds away from shaking him again. "Tell me!"
"The father of your son, your children, is special," Castiel said, slowly, after a while. "Are you familiar with demons and angels?"
"A little," Lisa replied, unsure where this was headed. "Angels not so much, but demons wear people like coats since they don't have a physical form on this plane of existence. I haven't fought one yet, but that's what I've been told."
Castiel nodded. His hands were folded loosely on his knees. Lisa watched those hands. They were slim, and deceptively graceful, but she was painfully aware that he could destroy her if he wanted to. "People wear out, after a while. Like a favorite garment worn too long, too often. The angel or demon will burn away their vessel like ash on the wind."
"Oh no," Lisa whispered, feeling like vomiting. "How long does Ben have before- before he dies?"
Castiel smiled for the first time since she'd met him. He had a nice smile. "Your children's family line through their paternal side have inherited a gift. They will never fade, be corroded by what wears them, a perfect complement to whatever chooses them be it angel or demon. They are the perfect vessel," he reassured her.
"That's why the demon came after Ben," Lisa realized. "It wanted him because he would never wear off, he would make it stronger."
Castiel nodded, looking apologetic. "I tried to keep you safe, but- I was distracted."
Lisa did not even want to consider what would cause an Angel of the Lord to be distracted, and Castiel did not offer a further explanation.
"How do I get Ben back?" she asked instead. "How do I save my son? And- and my daughter? Who did you give her to? Who carried her? How old is she? What is her name?" Her questions were endless
"A barren woman that prayed for a child," Castiel said. "She's four years old, and her name is Abigail. Your daughter is safe, for now, though I confess I have not been as vigilant of late. As for Benjamin, I will do everything in my power to save him."
"And what is that?" Lisa snapped. "I want my son back now, and my daughter. You had no right to take her from me."
"I know." Castiel looked miserable. "I must follow his orders, though, and he wanted you safe and unaware of the things that wait in the dark."
"Who is he?" Lisa repeated, wondering what sort of man would cause an angel to blindly follow him.
"My family," Castiel said simply.
Lisa nodded slowly, and then asked the question that had been plaguing her for a while: "I- I loved him, I think," she said, low, "I don't remember much, but I remember that. Did I- did I try to get pregnant to keep him with me?"
Castiel shook his head, and gently touched Lisa's hand. "Poor Lisa," he said quietly. "This must not be easy for you. No, you didn't. You actually kicked him out, before the accident."
"Why?" she asked, curiously. She couldn't imagine driving away the man she'd loved.
"He didn't mean to, but he hurt Ben, and you told him to leave," Castiel said. Then he stiffened. "He's calling me. I have to go."
"Wait!" Lisa said, pleading, "Please, tell me who he is."
"I can't," he told her, apologetically, "but I also can't leave you without some measure of protection. Here, this will hurt for a moment."
Without warning, he reached out and grasped her arm. Lisa swallowed a scream. Her bones were on fire. She felt like a knife made of molten rock was carving itself into her very soul. The pain caused her to seize up like she'd been tazed, and she slumped against him when it abruptly stopped. He didn't let her take a breath, though. Instead he laid his palm against the skin of her chest just under her collarbone, bare because of her low cut grey tank top and her open jacket, directly over her heart. There was another searing pain, this time like millions of tiny icy needles digging into her flesh. Lisa let out a quiet sob. It hurt like nothing she'd ever experienced, and she'd experienced a lot in the last year.
Castiel took his hand away, but he still gently supported her. Lisa glanced down at her chest. Half hidden by her tank top was a new shiny scar, a dusky pink color like an old wound. It was in the shape of a pentagram surrounded by a ring of small flames.
"What have you done to me?" she asked, voice barely a whisper.
"I carved sigils into your bones," Castiel told her quietly, breath brushing the top of her head, "it will prevent creatures such as myself from finding you and hurting you."
"Why would an angel want to hurt me?" she wondered, bewildered.
"We are not the kind and benevolent beings you think we are," Castiel said sadly. "Be grateful you do not know more than that. The scar over your heart will prevent possession by demons."
"Will it work for other people?" Lisa asked suddenly, thinking of Sarah and Kate. If it was possible, then she needed to get that symbol onto them as well, just as soon as she could get free. A tattoo of some sort would probably be the best choice. Biker tattoo shops were everywhere; it wouldn't be hard for an artist to reproduce it.
"You have allies?" Castiel asked, tilting his head.
Lisa nodded.
"Then I will protect them as well," Castiel told her. "Think of where they are, please."
Lisa shut her eyes tight and pictured the church. Sarah and Kate were finishing the last of the wiring since Lisa had taken Sarah's truck, and they were effectively stranded as neither could ride a motorcycle.
There was a brief feeling of nothingness, like she was simply smoke drifting along through darkness, and then Lisa slammed back into her body. The scent of a city park was replaced by the smell of forest and mountains. They were standing in the graveyard outside St. Hubert's Cathedral. All was like she'd left it. The sun baked down on the warm stone of the church, and insects buzzed in the short grass outside. A deer was meandering though the small garden Kate had dug in a meadow behind the church. Lisa could hear Sarah and Kate laughing and talking inside. Castiel was studying the church itself, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, and he suddenly didn't look so tired anymore. "You have chosen a good place," he said finally. "The protections here are strong and the ground is still holy."
Lisa didn't say anything, merely watched him. He walked through the graveyard, towards the church doors, and then stopped next to a crumbling tombstone. He laid his hand on the battered marble. "You cared for these graves?"
Lisa nodded. There hadn't been much she could do with her leg hurt as bad as it was, but sitting in the grass, weeding and cleaning gravestones had been one of them.
The angel patted Agnes Murphy's weathered grave marker. "The spirits here like you. They have become bored since the church was abandoned, but your presence here seems to keep them entertained. They will rise to your defense if you need it. A ghost is a powerful ally, but take care they do not go sour."
Lisa nodded. She hadn't thought to check if the graves were haunted, and now she felt silly. What a stupid rookie mistake. Castiel wandered through the grass towards the church, stopping now and then to rest his hand on something. Lisa couldn't really tell what he was doing, but he touched her motorcycle, her leather armor and helmet, along with the outside walls and the doorway of the church.
He pushed open the doors of the church and meandered inside. Lisa cursed when she heard Sarah yell in surprise and Kate snarl. She raced through the door just in time to hear the safety click off of Sarah's Beretta, and to see Kate's eyes turn a mad yellow and her lips pull back over her sharpening teeth.
"It's okay," Lisa called holding out her hands, "He's a friend." She didn't bother trying to step in front of him or protect him though. Castiel was probably bullet proof and Werewolf proof. She wasn't.
Sarah glanced at her, nodded, then slowly laid the gun on a table. Kate's teeth shrank gradually back to relatively normal, though still unsettlingly sharp, but her eyes stayed yellow.
"You smell weird," Kate said flatly. "What are you?"
Castiel didn't even blink. "I am an Angel of the Lord," he replied, like it was the most obvious thing ever.
Kate lookrf slightly taken aback, and Sarah squeezed her shoulder in a show of solidarity. Castiel lost interest in them and slowly spun in a circle, taking the measure of the church. They'd drug all of the old rotting furniture outside and burned it. Inside, Sarah had polished the stone floor of the church within an inch of its life. They'd also gotten rid of the crumbling alter and used the alter stones to patch up the massive fireplace at the back of the church. The fireplace itself rose to the upstairs balcony, so that it could heat the church in winter. Sarah and Kate had converted the balcony, once a place for a large choir, to three small bedrooms. They'd got the wood at Home Depot, and Kate had carried it up the trail to the church. The vestry had been converted to an armory. That had been Kate's idea, and it had been a good one. Lisa, since she hadn't been able to move around much, had carefully stored all of their weapons within easy reach on the walls. They'd gotten a bunch of cabinets from a yard sale, and those Lisa had used to stash all of their ammo and herbs. The baptistery at the back of the church was fed by a small natural spring, and they hadn't decided yet whether to turn it into a kitchen or a bathroom.
Castiel squatted, his trench coat pooled around him, and laid his hands on the floor of the church. There was a brief flash of white fire, and symbols radiated out from him across the floor, searing themselves into the stone. They spread up the walls to the ceiling, covering every surface in faint interlocking lines. Lisa was able to recognize a Seal of Solomon but that was it.
The angel got to his feet, and looked at her. "I will bring you salt and iron, and other things with which to fortify your defenses. Now I must go, but if you need me, call. Goodbye Lisa."
There was a brief rush of air and the sound of wings. Lisa had the distinct sensation of feathers against her cheek and Castiel was gone.
"What just happened?" Sarah asked, sounding stunned. "Who was that?"
"Part of the group that Garth wanted me to meet," Lisa answered, still staring at the blank spot in the floor where Castiel had stood.
"Why is an angel helping us?" Kate said. "God he smelled weird…"
Lisa shrugged, not sure she should mention any of the new road blocks that had suddenly reared their ugly heads. She had a daughter.
.x.
Castiel materialized back in the diner, squashing Dean up against the side of the booth with the suddenness of his appearance.
"Oi, dude, really?" Dean complained.
Sam barely blinked, merely took a firmer grip on his mug of tea. The angel studied him carefully, noting that the younger Winchester wasn't worse, but he wasn't any better either. The Trials were changing him in order to close the gates of Hell, but they were pulling him apart in the process. Castiel was fairly certain Sam wasn't going to survive the ordeal, but he wasn't sure how to tell Dean that.
Not to mention he had his own problems: Sam was dying, Dean was at his wits end, and the strange woman in his head, that stern robotic voice at the edge of his consciousness, telling him to mind- to obey; now there was Lisa. Poor, sweet Lisa Braeden, mother and housewife, was now a killer.
She'd stuck that knife in him without hesitation. The look on her face chilled him. Dean looked that way sometimes, right before he walked into a haunted house or laid siege to a den of monsters.
Castiel wasn't sure what to do about her. He glanced at Dean, sideways. The older Winchester had gone back to his pie and squabbling with his brother ,and Castiel let the normalcy of the moment wash over him. Sam and Dean were not his family by blood, but Castiel felt safer and more at home with them then with any of the Heavenly Host.
"Where did you flutter off to?" Dean asked after a long pause.
"I do not 'flutter,'" Castiel replied dryly.
"Whatever." Dean shoved his empty plate back and checked his phone, frowning. "Damn. That chick Garth wanted us to meet didn't show."
Castiel kept his face carefully blank. "Perhaps she had other pressing concerns?"
"What's more pressing than a demon problem?" Dean laughed. "Oh well. I'll text her later."
Sam shut his laptop, and pushed back his tea. "So are we going?"
"Yeah." Dean threw down some cash on the table and poked Castiel in the shoulder. "Lemme out, dude. You've got me walled in here like a princess in a tower, or something."
Castiel stood, and followed the Winchesters out to the Impala, enjoying listening to them gripe at each other. The brothers didn't really have normal, but they tried. Even at their worst they still had more than he did. They were safe, for now.
What to do about Lisa? Dean's heart would break if he were to discover that she were not safe. On her current path Lisa could suffer a violent end at any moment. Hunter life expectancy was extraordinarily low, and she wasn't about to stop until she got her child back. Children, Castiel corrected himself. Now that Lisa was aware of her daughter, he supposed that she wouldn't be able to leave that particular thread alone.
The only thing to do was to find Benjamin. The angel didn't let the smile show on his face, but it was with great effort. Here was a task he finally felt adequate to.
Castiel was a soldier, and searching out targets was one of his specialties. Whatever demon had taken Benjamin Braeden would regret it: Castiel would see them burn.
.x.
"The place looks beautiful," Father O'Bannon said, just inside the doorway. The priest was holding a large plastic tub full of bags of coffee, bedding, plates, and curtains. A steaming casserole rested precariously on top of the pile.
Kate rescued it, breathing in the steam rising from the cheesy crust with a smile. "Wow, this smells awesome."
"Bit of a home welcoming gift," O'Bannon answered, smiling. "You brought my family's church back to life, and I will be eternally grateful."
Sarah popped out of the kitchen carrying a bottle of wine and some glasses. With Castiel's help, the three women had been able to install a bathroom right adjacent to the kitchen. Lisa and Kate had assembled the supplies, and with a flick of his fingers the angel had somehow gotten them indoor plumbing. Nice too: the kitchen was all wood and granite counter tops, and the bathroom had a claw foot bathtub big enough to hold a pony.
Lisa was just happy that she didn't have to deal with shady truck stop bathrooms anymore, or digging holes in the woods. Mosquito bites on the ass sucked worse than sitting through a two hour PTA meeting.
The aforementioned angel was absent more often than he was present. Every now and then he'd pop in to check on her, usually toting something they needed: salt, blessed rosaries, holy water, or laundry detergent. She never knew where he went or what he did, only that he was helping her. Lisa suspected the only reason he was even helping her was because of her past relationship with a guy she couldn't remember, a guy who apparently cared enough to literally give her a guardian angel. Or at least guilt one into helping her. The whole situation was still tough to wrap her brain around.
Once everyone had their drinks, Sarah flipped the light switch. Lights flickered on, finally illuminating the church after many years of darkness. The chandelier, long dark, now shone with warm yellow florescent lights. It had been a bitch to wire. The homemaker that still lurked somewhere inside Lisa had rejoiced at finding vintage glass lamp shades at a rummage sale to hide the curly modern bulbs.
The light illuminated the slim ivy shaped iron bars crawling up the stone walls like metal wallpaper. The thick glass running along the bottom of the windows and around the room glinted faintly, enough to show the thick line of salt it encased. Lisa had had way too many ghosts break a hastily drawn salt line on her with a shattered window. It would take a lot more than a bit of wind to break the lines in the church.
"What is all the iron for?" the priest asked, studying the grates fitted to the walls.
"Keeps most things out," Sarah answered, holding up a hand to tick things off on her fingers. "Like-"
"Oh, no!" O'Bannon smiled quickly, cutting her off. "I think I'd rather not know, if that's all the same to you. I think I've had enough excitement for a lifetime."
Sarah chuckled and handed him a glass of cider. "I understand perfectly. Sometimes I wish I didn't know either."
Lisa got to her feet, dusting off her hands. The fire she'd been building roared, sending out a warm yellow heat. "Well," she said brightly, "The chimney works!"
"It should," Kate muttered. "We spent so long cleaning it out that I felt like Cinderella."
They collapsed into the couches around the fireplace. Father O'Bannon's casserole turned out to be mostly cheese, with spinach and chicken. After living off of cheap diner food and MRE's, it was one of the best things Lisa had ever tasted. It was also nice to have a home, her own four walls again, a place she could go back to. Battle Creek had ceased to become home after it proved to be assailable; here, she knew that she could protect it and defend it. When she got Ben back the church would help her keep him. No one would ever take her son from her again.
Curled up on the couch, her journal open on her lap, listening to Sarah, Kate, and O'Bannon chatting comfortably, was the happiest Lisa had been in a long time. What had started as an inventory list for Lisa's many aliases had turned into a series of doodles. Esther, Sarai, Priya- it bothered her that she didn't really have a name anymore.
Lisa Braeden was a wanted multiple murderer, but none of the new names felt like her. They were all spies, international Bond girls, or whatever. She doodled her name right next to Sarai. Lisa looked so boring right next to something exotic like Sarai.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, making her jump. Lisa fished it out, checking the screen. It was a text from Dean, half of the Winchester duo that Garth had referred her to. The really, really cute one with the amazing butt.
Get held up?
Lisa chewed her lip, wondering what to tell him. A season Hunter like Dean had to know what Castiel was. If he knew about the angel, would Dean know anything about her? Did he know her? Maybe he knew the guy in her head, how to find him. Should she ask him? Castiel had been careful not to tell her anything though, and if an Angel of the Lord had to keep mum then it was probably for a good reason.
yea, sorry, Lisa typed back.
b back in town ina few days, he replied. get 2gther then?
ok. Lisa wasn't certain if that was best now. Castiel obviously wanted her to hide. He'd pretty much chased her away from the meet up. What to do? There had to be a way to get the Winchesters to help her without stirring the pot and letting anyone know who she was. Until she figured out what the hell was going on, it was best to stay hidden.
what's ur name n e way? He asked. Garth never said.
Lisa froze. She couldn't be Lisa anymore: the FBI, and pretty much every law enforcement agency in the country was looking for Lisa Braeden, the woman who had supposedly went nuts, murdered a bunch of her neighbors, stole a bunch of illegal military grade automatic weapons, blew up her best friend's house, and kidnapped her own son.
She set her phone down and picked up her pen. Anagram? She didn't like giving up her name completely, she'd been Lisa for over thirty years. She doodled Sila but decided against that, along with Ilsa. One sounded like a Greek monster and the other sounded like a Disney princess. Then she grinned. Alis, or Alice. Normal and unexotic. A name like Sarai or Priya would make people look at her twice, but Alice was so very unassuming and boring.
Alice, she typed back finally. My name is Alice.
If he thought anything about the long hesitation on her part to tell him her name, he didn't say anything about it.
Alright Alice, c u l8r.
She breathed a sigh of relief. So far so good. Yep.
Lisa shut her phone off. She was going to have to figure out how to get the Winchesters to find her son without alerting the father of her kids that she was beginning to remember. He'd had an angel wipe out her memories of huge segments of her life for a reason. She didn't know what would happen if he found out what she was doing. Lisa wasn't sure if Castiel's help was contingent on her remaining hidden, but she didn't want to take the chance. She had to be careful. She was going to get to the bottom of this tangled web of a mystery, but she was going to have to do it delicately.
"Want more casserole?"
She jumped, and then found Father O'Bannon holding out the casserole dish. "Thanks. This is awesome by the way."
O'Bannon smiled serenely. "My cooking skills nearly aren't as good as my tea brewing ones, but I get by. Casseroles are hard to mess up anyway."
Lisa opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off by the sound of Sarah's cell phone ringing. All of them looked at Sarah who answered. "Oh hey Garth!" Sarah looked at Lisa. "Yeah, she's here."
Lisa took the phone from Sarah, raising her eyebrow. Sarah shrugged and went back to her casserole, shoving large forkfuls of cheese and broccoli into her mouth in unladylike chunks.
"What's up Garth?"
"You turned your phone off!" he chastised. In the background Lisa could hear the rumble of a car engine and that chipper 80's rap that Garth liked so much.
"Oh yes," she said, rolling her eyes. "I turned off my phone for five minutes. Oh, the travesty. What do you need Garth?"
"Fine," he laughed. "I'm putting together a team to take out a problem in northern Minnesota. Bunch of hikers keep disappearing near Grand Marais. I've been watching the news feeds, and law enforcement has labeled it a pair of rabid mountain lions a la The Ghost in the Darkness and moved on, so it shouldn't be too much of a problem for you there."
"But there is serious problem," Lisa said, "Or else you'd only need one or two of us. How many people is a team, exactly?"
"You and the rest of your people, if they're willing, will rendezvous with five other Hunters," Garth replied.
"Wow. That's a lot. What problem needs that many people?" Lisa asked, incredulously.
"Wendigo," Garth said grimly. "More than one, I think. Wendigos are fast, but there have been reports of campers being attacked at the same time. No baddie is fast enough to be in two different places at once."
"I thought Wendigos were solitary!" Lisa said, shock coloring her tone. She got to her feet and immediately went upstairs, and began putting together a bag. It was going to be a long drive from New Hampshire up to northern Minnesota.
"That's what we all thought," Garth shut his car off, but she could still hear the faint tinkling of the radio. "What I do know for sure," he continued, "is that the remote campsites that were hit were advertised by a pseudo religious nature group before the attacks."
"Advertised?" Lisa asked. She slung her bag over her shoulder and then went back downstairs to the armory. Wendigos called for fire. She had a flare gun, and a small flame thrower that she got from poor dead Roy. Actually, half the contents of their armory were thanks to Roy. After Lisa had killed Salome, she and Sarah had broken into Roy's abandoned truck and found a wealth of weapons and supplies. He'd even had a rocket launcher. Lisa wasn't sure what they'd ever use it for, but they had it.
"Yeah. I know something with teeth is waiting in the woods, but I also know that those people are sending victims to it."
"Oh gross." Lisa paused, right in the middle of shoving her sword into her pack. "They're feeding whatever it is, aren't they?"
"Sounds like it," Garth said. "You can see why I needed a team for this. One or two Hunters wouldn't cut it."
"Yeah. Gimme a couple days and I'll be there, and I'll talk to the girls too."
"Thanks Lisa!" Garth said, and hung up.
Lisa ended the phone call and turned to see Sarah, Kate, and Father O'Bannon hovering in the doorway, obviously eavesdropping.
"What's a Wendigo?" Kate asked. Her werewolf hearing had picked up Garth's end of the phone call, not just Lisa's.
"Have you ever heard of the Donner Party?" Sarah replied, immediately connecting the dots. The worried frown had left her face, replaced only by a grim tightening of the mouth. "A Wendigo happens when a man, or woman, is caught out in the wilderness alone and has to resort to cannibalism to survive. After a while they change into something vaguely human shaped, but not human at all."
"How is a Wendigo any different from me?" Kate whispered. "If I eat anyone, I'll turn into a monster."
Father O'Bannon laid a hand on Kate's shoulder and gave her a little squeeze. "Not to worry. Choice makes us what we are. It sounds like the people who became Wendigos did so through choice. A terrible, terrible choice, but a choice all the same. You have made the choice to retain your humanity, which no one would ever fault you for."
His soft Irish brogue was gentle, and Kate smiled a wobbly smile. She was still tiny but had begun to fill out due to regular meals and a predictable sleeping schedule. Lisa and Sarah regularly visited a local butcher and kept her well supplied with food.
"Here," Sarah said, holding out Lisa's journal to the Wendigo entry. With a black sharpie, Garth had drawn a large skeletal creature with long gnarled fingers and sharp teeth. "This is a Wendigo. You look nothing like this. Long and spindly and gross," she said, pointing at the Wendigo, and then she pointed at Kate, "Tiny and a size 2 and disgustingly cute so cheer up and shut your face."
"It's true," Lisa said, nodding sagely. "My ass will never fit your jeans. Count your blessings."
Kate busted up laughing. "You guys are the best. Thanks."
Slinging her pack over her shoulder, Lisa grabbed her motorcycle keys. "Well Garth gave us a job. We're meeting a group of Hunters in Grand Marais, Minnesota. He said it was going to be messy and complicated, which is why he's calling in a lot of people. It will be dangerous, so don't feel obligated to do this."
"Why are you, then, if it's so dangerous?" Kate asked curiously.
"Garth is doing me a favor," Lisa murmured quietly. "It's the least I can do. Every person I save makes me feel better for the one person I couldn't. Besides, I like doing it."
"Well count me in," Kate said promptly, crossing her arms and looking stubborn.
"You've never gone Hunting before," Sarah said. She began shoving weapons into her own bag. "No pressure at all. It will not be fun, I promise you that."
"If you guys die, who will feed me?" Kate joked. "Of course I'm coming."
"I'll look after the church in your absence," Father O'Bannon offered.
Lisa clapped him on the shoulder. "Thanks Father. We'll be back in a couple of weeks, probably."
"Unless we're dead," Sarah muttered.
"I won't let that happen," Kate said fiercely, bits of a werewolf growl rumbling through the tone of her voice. Her eyes looked distinctly yellow.
Father O'Bannon followed them out to the Harley and Sarah's truck, hovering anxiously like a nervous hen. He didn't want them hurt, but there wasn't much he could do about it. Lisa threw her bag into the back of Sarah's truck, wishing she could take her sword with her. She was got to have to find a way to take it with her on the bike. Going without it felt like walking outside without underwear.
Lisa straddled the Harley and fired it up, loving roar of the engine. Her chaps had been shredded by the Black Dog, and all she had was a light leather jacket. Wearing full armor would not be fun for tromping through the woods so she'd left that behind. "Pick your ride!" she called to Kate.
In answer, the werewolf hopped on the back of Lisa's motorcycle. Lisa laughed and handed Kate her helmet, and the girl stared at Lisa like she was crazy. "I am a werewolf. I do not need a helmet," Kate said, clearly enunciating every word, as though she were explaining something very plain to a five year old.
Lisa laughed, and shook it at her. "Too bad, kid. Law states that motorcycle passenger has to wear a helmet, even if you're indestructible, and I don't want to get pulled over."
Kate grumbled under her breath, but she popped the helmet onto her head anyway. Lisa tied back her hair with her scarf and slid on her aviators. Her gloved hands tightened on the Harley's handlebars. There was a crisp, sweet bite to the air that crept into her soul and soothed an itch she hadn't fully realized was there. The road was calling.
.x.
Dean watched Haley and her son Oliver disappear in his rearview mirror. He'd seen a lot of death, but still some things managed to shock him. Prometheus's sacrifice for his family would be one of those things that he would remember for a long time coming.
"Think they'll get over it?" Dean asked, glancing at Sam who sat in the seat next to him.
Sam shrugged. "Family is messy, but Oliver has a mom who'd do anything for him. He's a lucky kid."
The silence filled the car and Dean squirmed a little. He wished their family could be okay, hell, he wished he and his brother didn't have to go it by themselves. If Dean was completely honest with himself, he needed Sam more than Sam needed him. Sam was good with connecting with people- made friends, relationships, had ever since he was a kid. The only person who'd agreed to love Dean, to stay with him was Lisa. Lisa had taken him in again and again, and asked for nothing in return.
He missed her; her absence was an ache in his soul that he didn't think would ever go away. He'd tried to forget, thought about taking Elle up on her offer back at the Cassity Ranch, but couldn't do it. Lisa and Ben were there, in his head, and he never stopped thinking about them. Right about now, Ben would be trying out for the junior varsity baseball team, and Dean thought of Lisa, sitting on that bench alone. She'd have her long dark hair tucked under a baseball cap. She was a fabulous cook, and often got voted in to make the snacks for the team. Her favorite were little peach hand pies. She would have made those. They'd be on the bench next to her in a Tupperware container. Dean smiled, fondly. Lisa always smelled liked spiced peaches and baking pastry dough. After the game, whether they won or lost, Lisa and Ben would go out for milkshakes or burgers at the small retro diner down the street from the ballpark. Ben would wander off to hit on the cute waitress, a girl at his school, and Lisa would be left sitting in the booth by herself.
If he hadn't left, Dean would be sitting next to her. He'd slide his arm around her shoulders and kiss her, slow and easy. She'd taste like the chocolate fudge ice cream monstrosity that she always ordered. He'd say something cheesy, she'd smile, he'd tug her out of the booth and walk her home. They'd cut across Old Man Weaver's lawn like a couple of teenagers, and their house would be quiet, peaceful. Lisa would take his hand, drag him upstairs, and-
Dean gritted his teeth, and mentally forced himself to pay attention to the road. It did him no favors to be stuck to the past. That way only lay heartache.
.x.
Lisa, Kate, and Sarah rolled into Grand Marais a couple days later. The town was picturesque and beautiful, perched on the edge of Lake Superior. The onset of autumn was beginning to touch the trees with a yellow gold. The restaurant they'd agreed to meet at had a massive fish floating above the doorway, wearing a perpetual scowl. Lisa stared at it, then shrugged. They found the Hunters they were supposed to meet up with sitting around a table on the open air balcony overlooking the lake.
Four men and one woman stood up as they approached. The woman was short, in her fifties, with graying red hair bound in a tight French braid at the back of her skull. Her worn plaid work shirt was a few sizes too big, with patches at the elbows. She stepped forward and held out her hand.
"The name's Ginger," she said, and her voice had a smooth Alabama twang to it. "This here's Alex, my husband." She jerked her chin at the tall, broad shouldered man with a dark goatee.
Lisa nodded, and let her eyes rove over the rest of the group. A short Asian man stood next to a young black kid, probably barely into his twenties. Behind them stood a bear of a man, easily 6'5'' with a beard that would make any Duck Dynasty cast member insanely jealous.
Extending her hand, she smiled. "My name is Alice."
To their credit, Sarah and Kate said nothing about her deception. Sarah would understand her reasons for hiding, she knew about the mystery that surrounded her son's disappearance. Kate would be different, but Lisa was certain she would understand. If Lisa was arrested, who would find Ben?
"That's Tom Chen," Ginger said, and the Asian man waved. She pointed at the kid. "This is LeMarr, and the big guy is Earl."
"Nice to meet you," Lisa replied. "My companions are Sarah and Kate."
Ginger nodded. "Right, now that we're all acquainted, we can get to business. I assume Garth briefed you?"
Lisa lowered herself into a chair at the table, shrugging off her jacket. Sarah and Kate pulled up chairs on either side of her and sat. The tension in the air slowly bled away, now that they'd gotten to know each other. Lisa had only met one other Hunter, Roy, and that hadn't turned out too well, but these people seemed nice.
"Yes, he did," Lisa said, relaxing into her chair. "He mentioned the possibility of two Wendigos, and that a religious group might be feeding them."
"Sick bastards," Alex muttered. His voice was low and gravely, and his Alabama accent was even stronger than his wife's.
"Alright," Ginger said, folding her hands together and looking grim. "We need to figure out a game plan. Way I see it, we split up. One group gets the religious nuts to spill on where the Wendigos are goin' to ground, the other heads into the woods to do some killing."
"How much of a walk are we talking?" Sarah asked.
"It's eight miles to the campsites," Earl rumbled. "Figure we start walkin' now, the other group will catch up after they get the crazies to squeal."
"Where is the church? Or whatever it is that they use to worship," Lisa said, "How many people are in the group?"
"It's fairly small," Ginger said. She pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket and, ignoring the distressed look a waiter gave her, lit a smoke. "The youngsters will stick with Tom and Earl, and go the nut house, while the rest of us start walkin.'"
Kate gave Lisa a wide eyed look and shook her head. "I'd be more useful with you," she said under her breath. "Not having me with you would be a mistake."
"Maybe," Lisa whispered back, "But we don't know how many combatants exactly are at the compound. You'll be able to keep the rest of the team safe, an ace up their sleeve that they don't know they have. Sarah and I will be okay. Wendigos have rules, people are unpredictable, besides you'll catch up. Don't worry."
Kate still looked uncertain, but she didn't argue anymore. Lisa could see why Ginger didn't want her out in the woods with the monsters. Kate looked like a sweet young kid. Both she and LeMarr had their entire lives ahead of them, and Ginger obviously had the hope that they'd come to their senses and find a career that didn't end in getting eaten.
"Alright," Lisa said, standing. "We'd better get going, before someone else gets killed."
Ginger winked. "Yep, good talk. Now let's go bag us a monster."
.x.
Every single one of her senses was on fire. Kate could feel the wolf hiding under her skin, itching to get out. She was sitting next to LeMarr in Tom Chen's minivan, listening to the guys talk about football. It seemed like such a mundane thing, like she could be on any road trip. It was surreal to be in a fussy old minivan, talking about Peyton Manning's fumble, when Sarah and Lisa were walking into what was almost certain death.
Why did Lisa lie about her name? That was one thing that had been niggling at her. Lisa didn't talk much about what got her into Hunting in the first place. Kate knew that something dogged her heels, something wouldn't let her rest. Lisa often cried in her sleep but couldn't remember the nightmares the next day.
Sarah was tired too, but she didn't have the haunted expression that lurked in Lisa's eyes. Kate didn't know who Lisa had lost, but she knew loss when she saw it, she knew all too well. She stuck her hand into the pocket of hoodie, and was reassured by the feel the well worn, glossy photo. Michael was smiling in that photo, his arm was around her and they were both grinning like fools. It reminded her that she'd lost, but she'd also loved, and no one could take that memory from her.
"This the place?" LeMarr asked, doubtful. "Looks like a dump."
Kate craned her head, trying to see over Earl's ham like shoulder. They were parked in front of a rundown trailer, practically falling apart with age. The trailer had seen its heyday in the 70's, but the garden around it was meticulously cared for. Kate's mother had been an avid gardener, so she knew a thing or two about plants. The hybrid tea roses growing around the trailer were finicky plants, but they looked happy and healthy.
A tattered banner that read 'Nature Arbor Veneration Society' hung across the doorway.
Scrambling out of the minivan, Kate took a deep breath, scenting the air. She allowed the Wolf inside her out a little, so she could get a better feel for her quarry. There were four people inside the trailer. She could taste the adrenaline, the stink of their sweat, their excitement. They'd probably fed someone else to the Wendigo, which meant it was hungry and out hunting. Lisa and Sarah were walking right into it.
Kate clenched her fists, trying to will the claws under her skin to stay where they were. If she let them out, she could kill someone, and then there would be no going back.
.x.
"Alright," Ginger said quietly, "GPS puts us right near the campsite."
Lisa crouched next to her. They'd split up to cover more ground, so once the call came in they could move. Sarah and Alex had headed around the campsite, farther up the trail. The camp itself was untouched. Judging from the voices coming from the bright pink Hello Kitty tent, it was high school aged girls. They were giggling and telling ghost stories. Apparently the fact that a bunch of people had died recently in the woods they were in didn't seem to bother them.
"It's so quiet," Lisa murmured. "Too quiet. No birds, no insects, no nothing."
Ginger nodded, looking stressed but not surprised. "Wendigos. They scare out every living thing, and eat what ain't smart enough to get away."
"Thought they only ate people."
"They eat any damn thing they can get their claws on," Ginger said grimly. "Anything with a pulse. They're like skinny, Sarlacc pits with legs- they eat their food slow and they eat a lot of it. Every twenty years or so, they come out to glut themselves."
Lisa's mouth tightened. She'd never fought a Wendigo before. Salome had been the scariest thing she'd ever tangled with, but Lisa had heard plenty of horror stories about Wendigos from Garth. Her grip tightened on the handle of her sword. The bone felt smooth and cool, her fingers finding and taking comfort in every notch and dip.
"Think that thing will even work on a Wendigo?" Ginger asked skeptically, looking at Lisa's sword. "Fire's their kryptonite. Not bullets or knives."
"Only one way to find out." Lisa shrugged. "The sword kills most of the things I stick it into."
Ginger rolled her eyes and opened her mouth. Before she could say anything, out in the darkness, there was a little girl's cry. "Mommy! Mommy help me!"
"Think it knows we're here?" Lisa asked, voice barely a whisper.
Ginger shook her head. "Nah, but even if it does, it can't get past the Anasazi sigils, so we should be good."
Lisa studied the tent full of teenage girls. She felt a little guilty about using them as bait, but they were already out here, and warning them of the danger would only prompt panic. It would do no one any good to have a mass exodus through the woods in the dark when a monster was waiting to pick them off, one by one. They'd be safe as long as they stayed in their tent. Hopefully.
"Here we go," Ginger muttered. "Let's give those vicious assholes something to think about. They ain't the only ones here tonight that got teeth."
Lisa grinned. Fear should probably be running through her like quick lightening, but all she could feel was adrenaline. Killing a Wendigo would be one step closer to proving that she could take on the demon that had taken Ben.
"Mommy where are you?"
Inside the tent the girls had gone deathly silent, finally realizing something had gone very wrong with their camping decision.
"Mommy, please! Come find me!" This time the sound came from the opposite direction. The Wendigos were closing in fast.
Mommy's gonna kick your ass, Lisa thought. Run run run, as fast as you can.
.x.
"Where do the monsters go to ground?" Earl shouted.
Kate paced the length of the small trailer, prowling like a caged animal. Tom Chen was casually digging small knives into a man with ceremonial druid tattoos every time he remained silent. The rest of his congregation, three shaking women with wild eyed expressions, sat on the floor, holding each other. LeMarr kept a close eye on them, holding a sawed off shot gun with a chilling calm serenity. Sometimes Kate forgot that Hunters were at heart killers. It made her sad that kind motherly Lisa, and sweet cheerful Sarah, had that sort of monster lurking inside them.
"Just give us the location," Chen's soft Chinese accent was very soothing. "Give us the location and it all stops."
"WE ARE GOING TO BE GODS!" The man finally screamed, less out of pain and more of a desire to make the people around him understand. "We are worthy!"
His voice had a madness infecting it, a manic quality that suggested reason had long ago fled. Kate studied the spittle on his chin, the rolling whites of his eyes, and realized that there were different kinds of monsters. Lisa came home sometimes with blood on her hands and on her sword, but she also woke up screaming in the night. She and Sarah both took the chance on a Werewolf only because she needed help.
There were all kinds of monsters, Kate decided, she just had to be the right kind.
She smiled, and let the Wolf free.
.x.
They almost didn't see it coming. A guttural growl was the only warning the Hunters had before a massive black blur rushed the tent, slashing into the side of the pink fabric. It was huge, easily seven feet tall, and all insatiable hunger. Lisa and Ginger moved fast. They were the first wave, Sarah and Alex would wait, and hopefully the Wendigos would not realize that the Hunters hadn't shown their whole hand.
The Wendigo was dragging a struggling, screaming blond girl in purple plaid pajama bottoms out of the tent when Lisa slammed into it. She rammed the sword through the back of the Wendigo's bony knee joint, pinning it to the dirt. There was a sizzling sound, and the flesh around the blade began to smoke.
It immediately dropped its victim, letting out an otherworldly shriek. The Wendigo snarled and struck Lisa, hitting her hard in the face. The blow sent her flying, and she crashed hard into the dirt several feet away. Something wet stuck her eyes, and a second later her face began to burn. Blinking blood out of her eyes, Lisa was just in time to see the Wendigo yank the smoking sword out of its withered flesh and start for her.
.x.
LeMarr yelled in surprise when she turned, and the women on the ground in front of him shrieked in shock and terror. Kate had a brief insight that they had probably never actually seen a real monster before. They'd lured victims to the Wendigos but had never actually seen one. Her Wolf wanted to pull them all apart, to gorge itself on their hearts and bathe the room in their blood. She forced it down, forced herself to walk slow and let him see just exactly what was in the room with him.
"You're a Werewolf!" Earl hissed, looking terrified. His big hands flexed as though looking for a weapon, but he had nothing. They'd gone looking for a Wendigo, not a Werewolf.
Tom Chen said nothing. He'd sprung away from her when she'd started to change, but his alert black eyes followed her slow progress across the room.
She ignored them all and focused on the screaming man in the chair. He was pressed back, pulling frantically at his ropes, trying to stay as far away from her as he could.
Kate bent and rested her claws against his chest over his heart. It would be so easy. His skin would tear like wet paper, and his heart would taste like-
"Where are they?" She asked, and inwardly cried. There was no trace of human at all in those words, only a monster.
He whimpered, panic and fear making him stupid. Kate dug her claws into his skin, sinking them in, centimeter by slow centimeter. He gurgled.
"WHERE?" She roared.
Then she caught it, a faint whiff of blood on the air. She probably wouldn't have sensed it if she hadn't let the Wolf out. Kate dropped her victim and straightened, sniffing, turning her head trying to hear, to sense-
"What is it?" Tom Chen had been watching her carefully. He seemed to be the only one not paralyzed by fear.
She ignored him and turned to the sobbing man. "If they die," she promised, her voice barely understandable through the animalistic growl, "I am coming back here and killing all of you."
The tiny Asian man put out a hand, stopping her. Kate had to admire his unflappable calm, and she had to wonder what it would take to ruffle him, if anything.
"What is going on?" he asked, throwing out an arm when Earl started forward.
"Blood," she rasped, trying to make her mouth say the words around her wolf-like fangs. "I smell blood."
Kate realized with a chill that she knew who's blood it was, too. Lisa. If Lisa and Sarah died she would have nothing, she would be alone again. Kate turned and raced out into the night, dropping to all fours once she cleared the doorway.
.x.
"Hey!" Ginger's voice snapped through the clearing like cold steel, stopping the Wendigo in its tracks. "Over here, jackass."
The Wendigo turned, just in time to catch a flare in the face. It exploded into a shower of sparks, and for a brief moment there was a shadow of a woman in a deerskin dress with feathers in her braided black hair, then she was gone in a pillar of orange flame.
Lisa's eyes met Ginger's across the clearing and they both started laughing at the same time. It was the relieved, crazed laughter, of people who had survived but hadn't really expected to.
"What is wrong with you people?" the girl on the ground whispered.
This only made Ginger and Lisa laugh harder.
.x.
Up on hill above the clearing, surrounded by Anasazi symbols, Sarah watched Lisa and Ginger giggle like they'd just won the lottery.
"What's wrong with them?" Sarah whispered.
Alex rolled the tobacco chew around in his cheek and spit. "Shock and adrenaline. Happens to the best of us."
"They're going to get killed." Sarah was horrified, watching her friend sitting in the dirt, her face covered in blood and laughing like a madwoman.
"No they ain't," Alex replied. "That's our job. We're round two, remember?"
"They're the second bait," Sarah realized, remembering the other Wendigo that was out in the dark, and feeling sick that she'd momentarily forgotten it.
"We just have to be fast enough when it strikes," Alex said, watching his wife with a focused intensity as though he could keep her safe through sheer will. "Cus it's coming. There's blood in the air, and it won't be able to resist."
Sarah nodded, realizing she'd been a dimwit by forgetting her role. No more. She pulled the bag containing her supplies towards her, unzipped it, and pulled out the pieces of one of the guns Lisa had given her. There wasn't much time.
"What are you doing?" Alex sounded a little shocked. "You can't kill a Wendigo with a gun."
Sarah ignored him, and kept snapping together the large M4A01 Sniper Rifle. Once it was fitted for a night vision scope, Sarah lay down on her belly in the dirt, pressing her cheek against the butt of the gun. Letting out her breath slowly, she got ready to take the shot.
"Nice gun. How are you going to take a Wendigo out with a sniper rifle? Bullets only piss them off." Alex's tone suggested that he thought Sarah was a complete moron.
"Yeah," Sarah replied, voice barely a whisper as she waited, "But this magazine contains tracer rounds. If I hit it, the Wendigo will go up like a roman candle."
"Good luck getting it to hold still."
"I won't have to." Sarah watched Lisa sitting in the dirt, still shrieking with laughter.
.x.
One minute they were laughing, making a godawful racket, and the next there was a black blur and a spray of blood. Ginger dropped with a soft cry, hitting the dirt like a rag doll. The Wendigo had severed her spine. Lisa lunged for her sword, fingers closing around the handle just as the second Wendigo's hand closed around her throat. It lifted her, choking and kicking, into the air. Its other hand curled around, dirty talons slowly digging into the soft meat of her stomach. It wanted her to hurt, she realized through the agony tearing through her guts. They'd killed its partner and it was going to make her death as slow as possible.
"Take it," Lisa rasped, "Take the shot!"
There was a crack of gunfire and the Wendigo dropped her, its shoulder burning with an angry red flame, but it did not die. Faintly Lisa heard Sarah rack the bolt back on her rifle, ejecting the spent shell, so that she could try again. The Wendigo was momentarily uncertain which target to go for first, rocking back and forth on its long skeletal limbs, but when Lisa picked up her sword again it started for her.
Long fingers curled around her foot and started dragging her back. Only the heavy leather of her motorcycle boot kept her skin from being shredded. Lisa rammed the curved blade of her sword under the Wendigo's breastbone, the serrated metal cutting a ragged path through to the monster's decayed and shriveled heart. It screamed, its skin sizzling and burning. It didn't die, though, and it drew back its claws for another blow.
Lisa couldn't move, could only watch, her hands clamped on the wound on her stomach. It had tried to eviscerate her, and she wasn't sure how bad the damage was, whether she was just stemming blood flow, or holding her guts in.
Before the Wendigo could strike the final blow a lonely wolf howl echoed through the dark trees.
Kate erupted into the clearing, barely even human anymore. She crashed into the Wendigo, ripping off one of its arms entirely. Her momentum carried her across the clearing and she turned, snarling, yellow eyes glowing bright in the dark. Before she could attack it again, Sarah fired. This time the tracer bullet hit the Wendigo right in the forehead. The pyrotechnic charge in the tracer bullet was enough fire to send the Wendigo up in flames, showering them all in sparks that stank like smoke and rotting meat.
Lisa watched the smoke disperse, the pain in her stomach causing darkness to creep across her vision. "Castiel?" she whispered, voice a hint of a prayer. "Are you there? I-I think I'm dying. If you can hear me, please save Ben. Please, my children-"
"Lisa!" Sarah was running into the clearing, rifle bouncing on her shoulder, forgetting that Lisa was supposed to have another name. She slid to a stop at Lisa's side, dropping to her knees, and parting Lisa's shredded leather jacket to view the damage. "Oh my god."
Across the clearing, Alex was holding his wife and sobbing. "Ginger, c'mon baby, please. Don't do this to me."
That's how Search and Rescue found them a few minutes later. Luckily, Kate had reigned in the Wolf, though her eyes were still distinctly yellow. One of the terrified girls in the tent had had the sense to call 911 while the Hunters fought off the Wendigos.
A Search and Rescue worker knelt next to Sarah, gently pulling Lisa's hands away from her stomach so he could survey the damage. His partner checked Ginger, patting her terrified husband on the shoulder.
"Sir?" his voice was a balm, calm and comforting. "Your wife is alive, sir. It'll be okay."
"What about Lisa?" Sarah demanded.
The Search and Rescue worker smiled. "Your friend will be fine, ma'am. The jacket took most of the damage. What did this?"
"A mountain lion," Kate said immediately, "It came out of nowhere. We were hunting, and-"
"A mountain lion did all this?" he didn't sound like he believed them, but then he didn't really have a choice.
Sarah smoothed some of the blood from her friend's face. "Hear that? You're gonna be okay. This man-"
"Ian," he interrupted. "My name is Ian."
"Ian says you'll be just fine," Sarah finished. "Hold on."
Lisa absorbed all this and then passed out, realizing with no real surprise that she still hurt. Castiel hadn't come.
.x.
About a week and forty stitches later, eleven on her face and the rest on her stomach, Lisa was released from the hospital. Sarah had used the Priya Bakshi ID and it, and their fake insurance cards, had somehow held up to scrutiny. The afternoon was cool and clear and cloudy, and the air smelled like rain. Sarah was leaning up against her truck, arms crossed, waiting for her, and Kate was perched on the hood.
"All your pieces in working order?" Sarah asked, grinning. Her black hair was bound up in cheerful pigtails, and Lisa had to tweak one. Sarah batted her hand away.
"Yep." Lisa felt like someone had keelhauled her, but she also had enough painkillers to tranq a moose. "Someone please help this old lady into the truck."
Kate snorted. "Old lady, my ass. You're only griping and groaning cus an oversized zombie treated you like a pincushion."
"Oh man, don't remind me. It hurts too much."
Lisa slowly heaved herself into the truck, holding onto one of Sarah's hands in a death grip, while Kate supported her with a hand on her back. She sank into the seat with a low groan. Her stitches were starting to burn but it felt good to be out of the hospital.
"Where are we going?" Lisa asked, noticing Sarah hadn't turned towards their hotel.
"You'll see." Sarah kept her reply enigmatic, and Kate chuckled.
Lisa was even more confused when Sarah parked the truck right outside a biker bar with an adjacent tattoo parlor. Sarah's truck, along with a fussy blue minivan, were the only cars in the parking lot. Motorcycles were everywhere, huge hulking monstrosities with extended handlebars and lurid colors. They were extremely out of place.
Heavy metal music pounded from the speakers, and it reminded her of her college days. The interior of the bar was dark and stank of cigarette smoke, and for a moment Lisa had no idea what they were doing there. Then she spotted LeMarr, Earl, Tom Chen, Alex, and Ginger seated at a cramped bar table near the entrance to the tattoo parlor. A few bikers looked at her, looked her up and down, and then looked away. She felt like a mouse in a snake cage, but it hit her that she probably looked like the snake. The heavy black stitches on her cheek followed the line the Wendigo had cut into her face. Four claw marks marred her cheek, with one bisecting her eye and the corner of her mouth. It was actually a miracle she hadn't lost her eye. The marks were going to heal into ugly scars, and the skin of her stomach looked like the hide of a frigging baseball, but Lisa counted herself lucky. She could be dead.
"I see I ain't the only one who hated the hospital," Ginger said, smiling. Lisa realized with a chill that the older woman was in a wheelchair, and that she would probably never walk again.
"How are you feeling?" Lisa asked softly, sinking onto a stool.
Ginger's lips tightened. "Bout like you must be. I'll cope. You'll cope. Life goes on."
Lisa nodded, and Tom Chen pushed a shot of whiskey across the table at her. Lisa tossed it back, coughing, then slammed the glass down. "So," she croaked, and cleared her throat. "What's going on?"
Ginger smiled suddenly, glee lighting up the lines of her face. "Y'all are getting' tatted. Welcome to the fold."
Lisa blinked. She'd done a lot of crazy shit in her college years, but she'd never had a tattoo. "Uh…"
Alex rolled his eyes. "Relax girlie. Just standard stuff. Anti demon possession, devil's trap on the palm, druid healing tree, all that. Helps with when you gotta poke the darkness with a stick. Welcome to the Hunter family."
"Even me?" Kate asked.
"Even you."
Lisa didn't have to hear any more. If it would help her become strong enough to kill the demon that had taken her son, she would do anything. She pulled off her jacket, ignoring the way her stitches pulled.
"Let's do this."
.x.
"Sorry it took me so long to follow up with you guys," Garth said. He was seated at the church's small kitchen table, hands cupped around a glass of iced tea. "How are you healing?"
"Been a couple months," Lisa called. "Doctor took out the stitches, but said the scars are permanent."
"I'm sorry."
She shrugged. "I'm not. They mean I lived. Here's the full write up of what happened," Lisa said, tossing the folder down on the table, and dropped into the chair opposite him.
"Nice tats," he said, nodding at her shoulder and arm.
Lisa glanced down at herself. Her tank top showcased the druid healing tree on her left shoulder, the flowing hieroglyphs that were an excerpt from the Egyptian Book of the Dead that wrapped around it, and the Lord's Prayer in Latin down her forearm. On her palm was a small Devil's Trap. In theory, if she held up her hand she could trap a demon, but she hadn't had the chance to try it out yet.
"Thanks."
Garth thumbed through the folder she'd put together, whistling when he got to the end. "Daayum. Tracer rounds work huh? That was good thinking on Sarah's part. Wow on the sword though. A lot of your mission write ups seem to involve that thing, can I see it?"
"Sure." Lisa pulled it off the kitchen counter and set it in front of him. The sword was never too far away from her.
"Well that explains things," Garth said, touching the blade lightly. "This is a Kurdish Demon Blade. The Winchester's have one too."
"They're for demons?" Lisa reached for her sword, picking it up and looking at it closely.
Garth nodded. "Lower echelon ones mostly. I know the Winchesters tried poking a Knight of Hell with one, but all that did was piss the demon off. A sword might be different though."
Her hand tightened on the hilt. It would have to be. A demon killing Kurdish sword. Her heart leapt and for a moment Lisa felt like laughing. She'd had the weapon to save her son all along. Now she just had to find the thing that took him.
"I have a favor to ask," Garth said, pulling her from her glee.
Lisa cocked her head. "Sure, anything." Garth had done so much for her. If he asked, she'd say yes, no matter what it was.
"We've been working together a long time now. I've watched you- You're competent, strong, and a fabulous Hunter."
Lisa's immediately face went bright red. "If, if you're hitting on me, I'm sorry but-"
"No!" Garth said, laughing, putting up his hands, "That's not what I meant! I mean, you're cute, but- well, I guess what I'm trying to say is I need help. Running this Hunter organization, I mean. I can't keep up with everyone, especially with the Winchesters keeping me busy, and you're a fast learner. Even though you've only been Hunting a year, you're better than most of us. I'd like you to be my second."
"What would that mean?" Lisa asked, getting up to get another glass of tea. Coaching Ben's little league team for a season was the most leading she'd ever done in her life.
He smiled. "I give your number to Hunters. You run operations, organize Hunts, if people can't get a hold of me."
Lisa nodded slowly. "Yes, I'll do it."
He got up and held out his hand. "Thanks. Oh! One more thing. I got those ID's you asked for, along with registration and insurance for the motorcycle." He patted down his tan leather jacket, fringe bouncing madly, and pulled out a thick bundle of papers.
Lisa rifled through them and grinned. "Alice Cooper?" she asked. "A little cheesy, don't you think?"
Garth held up his hands. "Hey. Don't blame me. Dean Winchester put it together for me, and the guy's an absolute nut for classic rock."
"It's okay," Lisa said, smiling. "I like it."
"I have some stuff in there for Sarah," Garth added, glancing around. "Is she here?"
"Nope, just me," Lisa told him. "Kate's helping Father O'Bannon with cleaning out his cathedral's gutters, and Sarah's on a date."
"A date?"
"Yeah. One of the Search and Rescue guys that got us to the paramedics after the Wendigo thing," Lisa said, shrugging. "Ian something."
"Oh well. I got to run, thanks for the tea."
Garth grabbed his over-sized cowboy hat and left. Lisa watched his crappy old car bounce down the road in a cloud of dust before she shut the door and wandered up to her room. She pulled out her cell phone and sat down on her bed.
Got the IDs. Thx. She texted.
Dean's reply was immediate, as though he were waiting to see her reaction. Glad u like. I almost went w/ Alice Plant, but Cooper sounded btr.
Lisa grinned. He really was a classic rock nut. Only if my first name was Robert.
Roberta.
She laughed out loud. God she couldn't wait to meet Dean in person. The guy's sense of humor had her grinning, something that felt entirely alien. Since she'd had Ben, Lisa hadn't dated much. She certainly had no time to date now, with her son and daughter out there alone and in danger, but it was nice to flirt and be flirted with. Most guys lost interest after they found out she was a single mom. Dean had absolutely no idea what she even looked like, she could be sixty and toothless for all he knew, but he was flirting shamefully. She loved it. I made a mistake in my naming, obviously, she typed. Shoulda gone w/ Roberta.
Shame on u. Hey, what did u change it from n e way?
She shrugged, as though he were in the room with her and could see her. Doesn't matter. She's dead now.
Enjoy ur new lif, he replied.
"I intend to," Lisa murmured to the silent room. "I'm getting my son back, and my daughter, even if I have to go to Hell to do it."
.x.
To be continued...