Caught off guard, Dean took a right hook to the face, launching him across the floor. The vampire lunged, landing on Dean's chest; his teeth bared as he grabbed hold of Dean's shirt, unaware of the machete in his victims hand. With one quick swipe, a headless corpse collapsed on Dean, covering his face with blood. Dean it away, charging after the vamp currently holding off his little brother. Calling out, Sam tossed the discarded machete to Dean, who scissored off it's head. The body buckled and Dean paused. Something zinged by his ear; he ducked, turning to the sound, to see a vampire pinned to a wall with a bolt to the head. Tossing back his brother's weapon, he finished off the disoriented vampire, looking back to nod at Ellen, who was reloading her crossbow. She gave a thin smile and aimed at the nearest target, fighting with Bobby.
Someone shouted his name; spinning around he came face to face with Kate, her face contorted with anger. Before he could react, she grabbed his throat, launching him into the air. Landing on the second floor loft, Dean gasped for air, a throbbing pain lancing across his torso. Rolling onto his back, he winced and looked up, trying to gain his bearings. Kate reappeared, hurtling towards his prone form; quick reflexes gave Dean the advantage, managing to get away. He dragged himself onto his knees and then staggered to his feet as the thud of Kate's boots slammed into the platform. She smirked, fangs bared as Dean faced her. He went to grab for his machete, but found nothing. Looking out, he saw the discarded weapon in the middle of the main floor.
"That was a stupid mistake." Kate jeered, aware of her advantage with the unarmed hunter.
"Stuck with you again, huh? Why do you keep stalking me Kate? It's not flattering." Dean smirked, trying to buy time. "You know I'm not into that whole necrophilia crap." He leaned back against the support beam.
Kate growled, slowly advancing towards him. "I wouldn't be a smart ass if I were you, it only get you into deep trouble." She paused, inches from him. "I could give you power and strength beyond your human limitations. Immortality would be yours; yours pick of fine women and fresh blood. Enticing offer, don't you think?" She whispered.
"Ha! You really think I 'd want that? No thanks, I'm not a commitment kinda guy." Dean replied forcefully.
"I suggest you accept the deal Dean. Just think of poor Sammy when the demon takes your soul. Are you gonna visit your Daddy down there?" She laughed at his surprise. "Do you think I'm that ignorant Dean? One year isn't a lot. Soon, you'll be begging me to take you in."
"Over my dead body." Dean hissed . Swiftly, both arms shot up to Kate's left wrist, twisting it around until he produced a soft cracking noise. She groaned in pain and dropped to her knees. Leaning over the loft, he yelled to Bobby, who tossed up a scythe. Pushing himself back up he rounded on Kate, who clutched her bloodied hand. Lining the blade to her neck, he waited for her to face him. She looked up, her eyes emanating nothing but cold hatred.
"I could've helped you." She repeated, making no effort to fight back.
"No thanks, I'll get by without you." Raising the blade, he sliced through her neck. Dean wiped the blade clean on the corpse's bloodied clothes. Finding a rickety staircase to slowly descend to the ground floor.
The fight over, Dean emerged from the shadow of the platform. He was pretty sure he had cracked a few ribs, but nothing that seemed permanent. Sam, Bobby, and Ellen were trying to pull out any useful information from the remaining vampire. Dean strode past, towards the limp form of Jo; her head lolled on her chest from the constant rock of the chair. Her shallow cuts were now mostly bloody scabs. A lot of her blood had drained away, giving her a pale, but smooth complexion. Reaching over, Dean hesitated, gently shaking her shoulder; he began to cut the bindings holding her upper body to the rotting chair. Jo moaned weakly as she felt the rope loosen around her stomach and wrists. Turning the rocking chair, he sliced off the last remnants of rope. She slumped forward, and he quickly gathered her into his arms. As he sat on the floor, Dean was startled by Jo's sudden movement, latching herself around his torso; he hissed as she held tighter, adding to the pain from his ribs. Rubbing his hands up and down her back, he whispered quietly, helping her calm down. Loosening her grip, her trembling soon receded into rasping sobs. He felt quite awkward, but just continued to hold Jo tightly in his grasp. Looking up, he saw that the interrogation had ended. He slowly rose with Jo in tow and walked towards the rest of the group. Ellen rushed forward, desperate for some sign that her daughter was hanging on.
"Hey baby," Ellen cooed, stroking Jo's head. "Baby we got ya, you're safe now."
"Mom?" Jo whispered, lifting her head slightly to see her mother's face over Dean's shoulder. Her mother smiled in return.
"We're gonna go now sweetheart, find a place to stay." She looked up at the boys. "Leave the roadhouse, we need to get moving, find a safe house to regroup." She deadpanned, exhaustion starting to show on her face.
As they began to leave, Jo began to struggle against Dean's hold. "No, wait, No. STOP." She shouted, flailing in his arms. Ellen rushed over, with Bobby and Sam over her shoulder. Dean's began to limp heavily as her struggles increased.
"Dammit, that hurts," he moaned as she elbowed his ribs. Sam strode up and took Jo from Dean, who stubbornly released her as the pain blossomed throughout his body.
"Calm down Jo, what's the matter?" Sam asked, bracing Jo against his torso to stop her jerking movements. Her rattling breath slowed as she looked over to the group.
"There's someone else here. He's…still..," coughs racked her fragile body. She pointed frantically to the far end of the barn where old tarps were piled over on another.
Sam and Bobby walked towards the tarps, Jo still with them. "Under the tarps," she spluttered. Dean staggered up and pulled off the numerous tarps. Jo struggled to see the scene unfold.
The room stilled when the last tarp was removed. Ellen let out a cry and ripped the binding holding down Ash's legs and arms. Shaking him violently, Ellen kept on shouting at him to wake up. Within minutes, the gang emerged with Jo and Ash, who was hanging in-between Bobby and Dean. They left quietly, leaving no trace.
Less than an hour's drive brought me to Max's contact. I parked the Aston Martin across the street and slowly crossed to the quaint house nestled in the heart of suburbia. As I neared the driveway, I was impressed by the beautiful garden. I walked up the steps, soaking in the warm weather and quiet sounds of the neighbourhood. It was the closest to normal that I had seen in a while. Turning towards the door, I saw a small sign, advertising palmistry and fortune telling. Rolling my eyes, I tried the door, and let myself in. A tingling from above signalled my entry; in response, I heard a shuffling of chairs and murmuring voices towards the back of the house. I noticed the extra seating in the foyer and parked myself on the nearest chair. Slouching in the seat, I waited impatiently; 20 minutes went by before a middle aged man was shuffled through the archway from the living room. Behind him stood a well-rounded African American woman with a welcoming smile and hearty personality. She glanced my way, before turning her attentions back to the man in the doorway.
"Now honey. You've got nuthin to worry 'bout. Money's coming you way." She quickly ushered him past the screen, closing the front door before he could reply.
She turned to me smirking. "He'll get money, all right; but his wife's gonna take it all after the divorce." She chuckled slightly strolling to the archway. She paused, turning back. "Well come on Alex, we haven't got all day. You must be hungry, sugar." She sauntered through the living room. I jumped up, following the woman in astonishment.
The living room opened up into a home-style kitchen with a polished wood dining set in the middle. I rotated one of the chairs and sat my self down, arms leaning on the back.
"So, your wondering how I know your name," the woman stated, pulling out some dishware and a frying pan.
"It's like you can read my mind," I quipped sarcastically, leaning my chin on my hands. I paused, "You are reading my mind." I sighed, uncomfortable with my new understanding.
"Well, well honey. You catch on quick. I'm Missouri Mosley; your Max and I go way back, when he was traveling around the US. I don't read your mind on purpose, I only see emotions and thoughts on the surface. I don't invade nobody's privacy." She smiled kindly, putting out some eggs and bacon on my plate, while toasting some fresh bread.
"I don't mind," I said between mouthfuls. The aromas permeating the kitchen made my mouth water. The food was delicious, but I was aware of the bribe she made for my trust. I looked up at her knowing face; she understood my wariness and knew I would catch on fast. Reaching out, I firmly shook her hand, "I'm Alex Curtis, but you can call me Ally. I just hope your not using any voodoo mind tricks on me to trust you." I chuckled, and began to relax a little.
"I'm glad your so easily bribed, sugar. I got some company coming my way soon who need your help. They'll have the connections you need to find that demon." She said warily. Clearing away my empty plate, she replaced it with a steaming cup of chamomile tea.
"So I guess you know all about my past, huh?" Sipping my tea quietly, I gauged her reaction. She gave a sad smile and put down her cup.
"Yes, I do. The more painful the memory, the louder it is. I'm sorry to know you went through that, honey. But it's not your fault."
"Yes it is." I stiffly replied. "Don't talk about that part of my life again. No offence, it's just, what's in the past, stay's there." Finishing my tea, I stood up, taking the remaining dishes to the sink.
"Don't you even think about calling a hotel. Go get your stuff and park your car in my driveway or I will beat your hide with a wooden spoon." Missouri hollered at me, brandishing the wooden spoon from the cutlery drawer. I laughed, shaking my head as I strolled out to gather my belongings.
As I walked through the front door. I heard Missouri shout, "And we're going shopping tomorrow. You barely got descent clothes on your back child."
I could just imagine her brandishing that spoon out of sight, and I groaned, "I like my clothes," as I let the screen slam in place.