"Maya?" Dean's voice echoed down the empty stairwell. "Nothing up here. You found anything?"
His eyes found Sam's when they received no reply.
"Maya?" he tried again. "You alright?"
Nothing. His heart began to pound, and he felt a heat prickle up his back. He nodded to Sam to stay behind him, and edged slowly down the stairs. The kitchen door was ajar, and his hand went to his gun. He pulled it out and cocked it, his eyes trained at the door. Booting it open with his foot, his eyes scanned the room, Sam hovering behind him. She wasn't there. She wasn't in the living room, either, they had a full view of that as they descended the stairs.
"Where is she, Dean?" Sam's brow was furrowed.
"How should I know?" Dean snapped, lowering his gun.
He watched Sam push the back door open and slip outside into the warm evening air, before his eyes snapped back to the scene in the kitchen. He stooped down to look for any signs of struggle- scuff marks, blood, hair. The breakfast bar in the centre of the room was raised, leaving a good six or seven inch gap between the base and the floor. Dean pulled his flashlight from his back pocket and shone it underneath. There, he caught a glimmer of silver metal and the wooden grip of Maya's favoured 9mm pistol. He reached under the counter and retrieved it, hauling himself up and out into the back garden and straight into Sam.
"Dean?"
He didn't need to say anything. He just held up Maya's gun and the two of them were back in the impala within seconds. Dean tried to pull his phone out to call her, but found his fingers wouldn't work. Sensing Dean's edginess, Sam pulled out his own phone and dialled Maya's number, freeing Dean to hot-tail the car towards the motel.
"Nothing. Just ringing out."
"Try again." Dean's jaw clenched.
"Dean. I've tried six times already."
"Call the phone company. Try and pull her GPS location." His eyes never left the road.
"Fine." Sam listened to the dial tone, his long fingers drumming on his legs.
"Hi, yeah, my Fiancee went on a camping trip a couple days ago, and I haven't been able to contact her, I wonder if you could switch on her GPS, let me know where she is? Maya... Stark?"
He glanced at Dean who gave a small nod. " Yep. Great, thanks." The drumming of Sam's fingers got more incessant.
"Right. I understand. Thanks anyway."
Dean's stomach gave a lurch when he heard Sam's defeated tone. "I swear to god, if some self-righteous, ass-kissing angel has her-"
"You think this is an angel?"
"Who else? She said she thought she saw someone, remember? They've probably been tracing us... hell, they probably bought us here!" Dean slammed his hands on the steering wheel, the car swerving slightly. He watched his younger brother's expression drop, the crinkle in his brow giving away his anxiety.
"We'll find her, Sammy, we've gotta." Not quite believing in his own resolve, he swung into a motel parking spot, hoping to god he'd see her face when he pushed open that door.
I let my eyes flutter open, only to be met by near-total darkness. It didn't take long for my eyes to adjust, and I could just about make out the four corners of a huge room. Heavy metal rafters above me told me I was in a warehouse, or factory, or somewhere equally disturbing. I bit back a yell as I tried to my shoulder, as though I'd been thrown against a wall. I could just about make out the outline of a tall figure, shrouded in shadow, leaning against something in the corner of the room. They must have sensed my stirring, as I saw their head tilt, before they turned round and starting walking toward me.
"Well, well. I didn't expect you to be awake yet."
The gentle baritone of his voice surprised me. As he got closer I could make out his tall, lean frame, and smart black suit. I fidgeted in my seat again, but I could feel the burn of rope against my wrist.
"You appreciate I had to restrain you, don't you, Miss Cole?" His voice was honey. "I didn't expect you to come round for at least an hour. Thank goodness I had the foresight, hey angel?"
I blanched. Dean's pet name for me. How did he know?
He stopped a few inches from my face, he smelt like clean cotton. "I trust you won't go anywhere in the next ten seconds. Nod your head."
I obliged, biting my tongue. My heart stopped as I caught the glint of an angel blade out of the corner of my eye; my breath baited, I waited for the inevitable piercing, cold pain, and the fading light- for the end. It didn't come. Instead, I felt the pressure of the ropes alleviate, and I could bend my fingers again.
"Won't be needing these now." The man smiled, his eyes glinting. He dropped something on the floor a few feet in front of me, and I closed my against a burst of light penetrating the darkness, feeling an overwhelming heat climb up my skin. There was suddenly enough light to illuminate the whole of the room; dark, orange flames encircled me. I didn't understand. I let me brain work, closing my eyes against the heat and light again. What was happening?
Holy oil. A circle of holy fire surrounding me meant I couldn't move. Well, I could, but I'd more than probably die.
I found my voice. "Who are you? Is this how you like to spend your time, kidnapping defenceless humans?"
He laughed drily. "Human? You are not human. We've been looking for you for a while now, we know what you are."
"Oh, really? Please, do enlighten me." I adopted the most sardonic tone I could muster, but I sensed his could see through it.
"Nephil." He spat. "The scum of our world."
"I told you. I'm human." He didn't say anything. "I'm 36. If I was a nephil, tell me, wouldn't you have known about in say, 1981?"
He paused for a long moment. "Why now?" he sneered, "why now to unleash your power? What have you got planned?"
I laughed. "I hate to be the one to piss on your parade, but I got no plans," I shifted in my seat, my neck and shoulder throbbing with a dull pain.
He ignored me. "Why did the angel Castiel help you? What did you offer him?"
I bristled. "Castiel... had nothing to do with anything."
"Tulsa General Hospital. March fourth of this year. You were supposed to die."
I clamped my mouth shut.
"We received some... interesting information from a reaper. They were about to take your soul, you were about to die. They had you in their sights. Then, you somehow made a miraculous recovery, and our friend couldn't make her delivery."
I felt goosebumps form on my arm. Had I really been that close to dying? "Cas healed me." I said with quiet anger. "I was dying. I was healed. That's it. That's what you kidnapped me for?"
"I'm merely looking for answers, which you will provide in your own time, I'm sure." The faint smile on his lips made my breath hitch. "It seems you're done co-operating for today. Let me escort you to your quarters."
In a second, the ring of fire around me dissolved to nothing, and the room fell dark again. I stood up from the chair with shaky legs, and decided this was a good a chance as ever. I lunged toward him, as fast as my unsteady legs could carry me, my shoulder meeting his chest and sending us both toward the ground. I landed on top of him, my hand now finding his neck, blood pounding in my ears. I was stronger than I'd ever been, but I still couldn't hold him for long. With a flick of his free hand I was thrown backwards, my head meeting the cold concrete floor. Within a second he was standing over me, the silver glint of his angel blade matching the evil glint in his eye.
"Now, now. That's no way for a lady to behave." He pulled me up by t-shirt, light still swimming in my vision from the fall. "Looks like we're going to have to keep a closer eye on you than I anticipated."
His forefinger met my temple and darkness closed in again.
I woke up lying on a dusty, stone floor, a pillar of early morning light slipping in through a slat in a wall. I shivered. The room I was in was tiny, probably ten foot by six foot, and at one end was a huge steel door, like the ones a prison cell. My throat was dry, and my breath was raspy. I needed water, my head was spinning before I stood up. The whole left side of my body ached, I could barely move my neck, and my wrists were hot and sore from where I'd struggled against the ropes. I made a futile attempt to open the door, knowing full well no captor worth his salt would leave a door unlocked. I slumped down in the corner of the room near the slither of light that was seeping in. I needed a way out. This guy was stronger than me, he'd proved it yesterday. I'd hardly trained, really, and these guys had been fighting for millennia.
I thought of Sam and Dean, hoping to god that they were looking for me, that they had even the slightest idea where I might be.
The steel door swung open, allowing the blinding light of a corridor to fill the tiny room. I squinted against it, and before I could even begin to move, a cheap plastic tray was dropped in front of me and the door slammed shut again. There was a plastic cup of water and a cheap microwave pastry. I glugged the water but left the food; my stomach felt like lead when I thought about what that creep might do to me, and I began to sweat. I needed a way out. How could I get out?
My head starting spinning again, the small glass of water doing little to alleviate my thirst. Black dots filled my vision, and I began to drift in and out of consciousness.
Blood red images filled my mind. Circles, symbols I didn't understand. A triangle, an N, a number 3. They kept appearing, never whole, but punctuating my sub-conscious. I could hear distant voices, but they were muffled, like a radio station that was too far away.
"Who are you?""What are you planning?" "What do you want with Castiel?"
The same three questions, over and over, every time my mouth stayed a tight, thin line, every time the ice cold angel blade pierced my skin. Sam and Dean still hadn't found me, and for three days I'd been hearing the same questions slip from the angels mouth. My skin was constantly bleeding, every time I failed to answer I would feel the blade slide down my chest, my arms, my back. Then, when I was in the safety of my tiny room, I would let the warmth take over my body and my cuts would heal over.
The symbols clouded my mind every time I slept, all the time becoming clearer and clearer. I didn't know what they were, what they meant. They looked like some kind of sigil, but those distant voices still weren't telling me anything. I was holding out hope the Sam and Dean would find me, but my resolve was beginning to falter. I couldn't wait for the brothers to ride in and rescue me. I couldn't keep listening to that prick asking me the same questions day in and day out, never once giving up, or changing tactic. He hadn't even told me his name.
"Get up." The door to my room creaked open and his voice slipped through the gap, along with the light from the corridor outside.
"Up."
I did as I was told, if I'd learned anything from books and movies it was to not make things difficult for myself. He thought he would eventually break me, and I let him. He led me through the corridor, and into the room I'd be spending twelve hours a day in, and motioned for me to sit down.
"We looked into your parents." His ochre skin was bathed in the light seeping in through a window, and for the first time he truly looked angelic. "Emmett Michael Cole, born January 29th 1953. A Vet, huh? Bet that messed him up good. Kathleen Sarah Cole, nee Bennett, born June Fifteenth, 1956. Beautiful thing, just like you. A nurse...in the Navy no less. Is that why you ended up working in a hospital? "
I did nothing except stare blankly at him, but behind my back my hands were clenched so tightly I could feel my fingernails digging into my palm. "You see, we're pretty clever, us Angels, and we did a little digging- wondered whether one of your folks was ever a vessel for one of us. Do you know what we found?" He brought his face to mine.
"Nothing. Nothing at all. So do you want to tell me how a human, born of human parents, could possess the grace of an angel?" I could tell that he sensed my pulse quickening, but he remained still, his placid expression never once shifting. While he may see through me, I'd never openly given him any indication that he'd flustered or confused me. I gave him a sickly sweet smile.
"Well I would have no idea. How could a human, born of human parents, possess the grace of an angel?"
He pressed his angel blade to my bare neck, his voice a deathly whisper. "I am tired of your games, of your lies. Do you think I can't see through your thinly veiled facade? Humans are so insolent." He spat, the blade pressing harder into my neck- I could feel a warm, sticky trickle of blood slip down my skin onto my chest.
"You will tell me, how you came to possess this power, or so help me god I will find every last person you care about, and you will watch them die."
I didn't so much as blink.
"My name is Kushiel, I have been sent to get answers, and I will get them." I could feel red hot rage radiating from him, but I didn't falter. Sam and Dean's faces popped into my head, making my heart race. Would he hurt them? If I didn't speak up, didn't come clean, would he kill them? I clamped my mouth around the truth that was threatening to come out. No, I had to stay silent, stay quiet. No matter the threat, no matter the risk. That was the only way we could stay together: they'd find me; we'd kill Kushiel; we'd move on. If I was dead, that couldn't happen.
I shook my head at him. "I'm not feeling very talkative today, Kushiel, maybe you should try again tomorrow."
He ripped the bindings from my wrists and pulled me to my feet and I struggled to keep up with his pace as he dragged me back to the room. He practically threw me inside, the door thundering shut behind him. I watched it close and smiled.