CHAPTER 3: THE SPECIAL NEPHILIM

Galaxy Motel, Brooklyn, New York, 11:00 A.M.

Dean walks out of the shower, drying his still wet hair with one of the motel towels. He grabs two beers and hands one to his brother, who is speaking on his cellphone. Sam grabs it, opens it and puts his phone on speaker.

"I find all this hard to believe, Mick," Sam continues his ongoing conversation out loud. "Did you British Men of Letters seriously not know anything about these Shadowhunters?"

"I'm not saying we didn't know," Mick Davies answers from the other side of the phone. "I'm saying that, with my clearance, I never had access to that information. Plus I never had the pleasure of knowing those lads before, so I had never found the need to ask around about them."

"Then we won't know for sure if they're friendly?"

"Give me some time to talk to our people in England," Mick sighs. "I will also look for information about that Glamour thing. Who knows how many more things have been hidden from us…"

"Sam, remember the demonic message," Dean whispers.

"Oh, right, right," Sam clears his throat. "We need help translating this word written in Gehennic. It's related to the case. See if your people back home can help us with it."

"I'll send it, see what they can find. In the meantime, orders are…"

"We don't take orders," Dean loudly meddles in.

"Right, sorry," Mick apologizes. "Could you follow the Shadowhunters' game and work with them, please?"

"We'll think about it," Dean answers with irony before hanging up his brother's phone.

Sam's shows weary sighs and eye rolls before having a zip of his beer. Dean ignores his brother's expression, searching the room for the missing team member.

"Where's Cass?"

"He went out early in the morning, saying he was gonna' do some important research of his own," Sam opens his laptop. "Said he'd be back soon."

"Right," Dean nods. "Did the Nephilim kids call?"

"Not yet."

Sam's laptop shows several web pages and research documents on its screen that catch Dean's attention. The latter notices numerous Nephilim and archangel references, as well as historic documents concerning Crusades.

"I see you were busy."

"I was trying to find something about these Shadowhunters."

"And?"

"Well, no direct references so far," Sam answers. "But I was checking out old historic documents about the so-called Incursion. I tried to cross-reference them with…"

"Nobody cares," Dean fakes his snoring. "Just tell me what popped up."

"Records date from when the First Crusade began, back in the year 1096," Sam explains. "They repeatedly mention a particular crusader who went by the name Jonathan. Apparently, he was extremely devoted, always claiming that, and I quote, "his strength was guided by God, his archangel generals, and his angel warriors." His fellow crusaders held him in high esteem."

"And what's so special about this Jonathan?" Dean takes a long zip of his beer. "What's he got to do with all this?"

"His nickname," Sam replies. "For his courage in battle and his devotion, his crusader brothers called him The Shadow Hunter. Ring any bells?"

"You think it was he who summoned that archangel Cass mentioned?"

"I found numerous references regarding Jonathan's prayers to God and his archangels before going to battle, arduously mentioning the name "Raziel". It says here that through celestial blessing, this crusader was one of the ones who made the Christian victory of the First Crusade possible. However, I can't find anything else about him after the year 1100, as if he had gone completely off the grid."

"Doesn't sound like lazy historian negligence to me," Dean mutters. "The year matches the date range Cass told us about when mentioning the demon invasion."

"I also found some references concerning the archangel Raziel," Sam continues. "Within the teachings of the Jewish mysticism, Raziel is known as "The Keeper of Secrets" and "The Archangel of Mysteries". It says here that he was always sitting next to God's throne, listening to everything that was talked or discussed, and later writing about all of it. It is said that his book, the Sefer Raziel HaMalach, was written using his holy grace, and contains all of Heaven's secret knowledge. Its current whereabouts remain unknown."

"Well, he sure is discreet," Dean grumbles. "His Nephilim were living in New York all this time, right under our noses. We hadn't even heard rumors about their existence 'till last night."

Dean's last beer zip is interrupted by his cellphone's ringing. The calling number is one he has recently added to his contact list. Alec Lightwood, he remembers the Shadowhunter before answering.

"Agent Summers…"

"You can stop pretending with me, Dean," Alec's voice says from the other side of the phone. "As we agreed, I'm calling you because we may have a lead on Nick's next move, and it's going down tonight. I'm sending you the address."

"Right, we'll be there," Dean checks his cellphone screen.

Sam looks at his brother while he hangs up, expecting a brief summary of what he talked about with Alec. Dean puts his green leather jacket on and grabs a duffle bag from over his bed. He shows a big smile before heading towards the Impala's loaded trunk.

"Time to gear up."

Medieval History Museum, Manhattan, New York, 11:00 P.M.

Dean turns the Impala's engine off as he parks it near the alleyway adjacent to the New York Medieval History Museum. What would a crazy vampire want from a place like this? The Winchesters ask themselves, unable to think about a minimally coherent answer. They even start questioning the fidelity of Alec Lightwood's information.

Once the Winchesters shut the Impala's doors, the Shadowhunters emerge from the shadows. Jace, Clary and Isabelle carry their respective swords filled with runes, while Alec still uses his bow as his weapon of choice. This time, however, the feathers adorning his arrows adopt a golden tone.

"I see you geared up for the occasion," he says, observing the Winchesters' clothing.

"We couldn't wait to get out of those suits and ties," Dean sighs.

He's right, Sam agrees with his brother's words while fixing the collar of his black leather jacket. Looking at the rest of his clothes, he notices his shirt, jeans and boots bear the same abyssal dark color. Dean looks at him with skepticism.

"Dude, what are you dressed as? A reaper?"

"Well, what have we got?" Sam asks, ignoring Dean's mockery.

"We got some intel from our sources among Downworlders," Jace takes his cellphone out of his jacket's side pocket. "They claimed that a crew led by a vampire with gray eyes was planning to steal an item from this particular museum tonight. Given the nature and antiquity of the artifacts in there, it seemed like a good lead to follow."

"And?"

"Check this out."

Jace shows a security footage to the Winchesters. They see Nick inside the museum, calmly walking through the lobby and reaching one of the exhibition rooms, followed by a strange companion dressed in black robes. At one point, he shows his pale face to the camera, along with a defiant grin.

"He's not exactly hiding," Clary asserts.

"It's like if he knew we're watching him, and dares us to go get him," Isabelle gets angry. "I say we go in there and end him once and for all..."

The Winchesters pay special attention to Isabelle, who now wears a black, tight and sleeveless overall dress that shows a moderate portion of her cleavage. While Dean looks at her with his characteristically elegant lust, Sam focuses on her evident weariness. Her pale skin and the dark rings under her eyes are more prominent than before. Her breathing is a lot heavier.

"Well, you heard the lady," Dean brags, firmly grabbing the machete he usually uses to kill vampires. "Let's ice this son of a bitch."

The newly formed team enters the museum through the back door. While Dean, Jace and Alec swiftly go through it, Sam notices that Clary and Isabelle fall behind, given that the latter loses her balance. He grabs the weak Shadowhunter's arm and gently helps her up.

"Are you all right?" Sam asks with genuine concern.

"Maybe you should sit this one out, Izzy," Clary says.

"I'm...fine," Isabelle barely stands up. "This is going to pass soon. There's no time to waste."

Once she recovers her balance, Sam lets go of her arm in the same gentle way he grabbed it before. Both stare at each other, seemingly forgetting the world around them. Their eyelids barely stay in their place, and their pupils dilate with every passing second. A strange and inexplicable feeling of curiosity and tenderness invades them.

Sensing Clary's staring makes Sam and Isabelle return to the real world. None of them understand what had just happened. Both clear their throats.

"Um, yeah," Sam stutters. "I think we um...should..."

"Yeah," Isabelle interrupts him.

Sam swiftly goes through the museum's back door, followed by the two Nephilim women. They enter an extremely dark room filled with nylon sealed cardboard boxes, where the rest of the team is waiting for them. The dust surrounding the place makes Dean sneeze.

"What took you so long?" Jace asks, getting silence as an answer.

"All right," Alec sighs. "There's a lot of ground to cover, so I propose we split into two teams. It will save us time."

"Do you think that's a good idea, Robin Hood?" Dean questions him. "We don't know what's in there, and all this smells really fishy."

"What do you mean?" Clary asks.

"Seriously, guys?" Dean complains. "You get a tip, from a monster, that another monster is gonna' hit a museum, and it doesn't seem weird to you? Obviously, Nick wants to be found, and since he knows we're onto him, I can only guess one thing."

"Which is?" Alec fixes his hair.

"He's luring us into a trap," Jace concludes.

"Dean's right, Alec," Sam says. "He easily ditched us when we caught him off guard, and now he's being too sloppy. He's obviously setting us up."

"Let's activate our tracking runes, then," Alec replies. "Jace will cover the west wing with you guys, while the girls and I search the east wing. We warn each other through the runes in case of emergency. Otherwise, we meet in this same spot in 30 minutes. Understood?"

"All right," Dean sighs. "We'll do it your way."

"Let's move, then."

The Shadowhunters activate various runes while the Winchesters turn their flashlights on. Dean takes point, slowly opening the door opposite to the one they used to enter the place. The lifeless body of a security guard falls on his boots. Oh, man, he sighs.

Next to the team lies the body of a middle-aged, bald and obese man, belonging to the African-American ethnicity. His still worn security guard uniform has surprisingly almost no blood stains, and his utility belt is missing all of the weapons it normally carries. His precordial area and eye sockets show empty holes.

"His heart was ripped off," Clary asserts.

"And he's been completely sucked dry," Sam interrupts her.

"Either our werewolf is here, or Nick has changed his taste," Dean sarcastically claims.

"We proceed as planned," Alec says. "I can feel his presence still inside the museum."

"Dude, I hope it's only you on tonight's shift," Dean addresses the dead security guard.

Sam and Jace pick up the dead man's corpse and accommodate it in a discreet location, covering it with an old dusty sheet. They follow the team through the door afterwards, entering what seems to be the museum's main lobby. The lights are all turned off, giving birth to a pitch black darkness that is only mitigated with the Winchesters' flashlights. Both human hunters can barely distinguish a reception desk, two porcelain vase on marble stands and a huge painting hanging on one of the walls, seemingly representing the Battle of Arsuf during the Third Crusade.

"Well, you know what to do," Alec whispers.

The team splits into the two previously planned groups, with Jace tagging along with Sam and Dean. All three enter the room corresponding to the Medieval Weapons Exhibit, where an unpleasantly familiar smell invades the Winchesters' nasal cavities. Dean swiftly switches weapons.

"Sam, you smell that?"

"Sulfur," Sam grabs his angel blade. "There are demons nearby."

"Yeah, I can sense them too," Jace asserts. "Get ready."

Upon entering the Shields section, the three hunters spot a group of five strong men with their heads shaved, dressed in army fatigues dyed in digital camouflage. Three of them face the Winchesters, while the other two disappear into the darkness, carrying one of the shields with them.

"Winchesters," one of the men calmly says.

All three soldiers show a familiar pitch black color in their eyes. So, demons too, Dean thinks while readying himself for combat. Sam and Jace firmly brandish their weapons. Let's do this.

"One for each," Dean smiles. "This'll be quick."

"Not quite," A voice replies.

Another group of four possessed army men enters the scene. They have to make it hard, don't they? Dean silently complains. The demons slowly walk towards their preys, carrying all kinds of melee weapons from batons to military combat knives.

"You have any experience with this kind of demon?" Jace asks.

"Believe me, buddy," Dean stretches his shoulders. "It will be our pleasure to kick their asses."

Before the demons can attack, Sam, Dean and Jace charge against them, starting a noisy and destructive fight that catches the other group's attention. Clary turns towards their direction, minding the sound of battle cries, broken furniture and weapon clashes. Nah, Jace will be fine, she stops herself from intervening.

Seconds after returning from her distraction, Clary sees Nick standing right in front of her. The vampire hits her chest so hard that the blow sends her flying. Her fall is stopped by a giant ceramic vase. Alec tries helping her by shooting an arrow at Nick, but he misses his shot as he is pushed by a second attacker and thrown out of the room. The shady character then shuts the double doors and bars them with a thick iron poker. Isabelle, still inside the room, brandishes her sword, barely being able to hold it.

"It seems we have a sick one here," Nick smiles. "Don't overdo it, dear. You could...worsen your condition..."

The shady figure inside the room takes off the hood, showing the face of a young and beautiful woman. Her hair is as red as blood, and it shines strongly despite the reigning darkness. Thanks to their runes, Isabelle and Clary can distinguish the paleness of her skin and the black color covering her prominent lips. They can also see her long nails and her sharp, pointy teeth. Werewolf, both think. Clary stands up and swiftly joins her teammate.

"The famous Clarissa Fairchild," Nick rejoices himself. "We meet at last..."

Clary aims the tip of her sword at Nick and turns her attention towards the werewolf for a few seconds, who is standing in front of a continuously pounded door. That must be Alec, she asserts. The vampire's gray eyes look at both Nephilim's drawn weapons.

"Boohoo, how scary," he mocks them. "Do you think a sword with... little drawings... can do me any harm?"

"It's a Seraph Blade, idiot," the werewolf woman insults him. "It can kill any of us. Don't let your guard down."

"All right then," Nick taunts the Shadowhunters. "Let's see what you've got."

Blinded by rage, Clary charges towards Nick and tries cutting and stabbing him with swift and relentless swings. However, Nick's celerity stops her from even laying a scratch and allows him to punch her twice in the face. Using her staggering, he grabs her by her jacket and throws her against the wall like a ragdoll. Isabelle tries helping her, but the werewolf swiftly attacks her. She can barely dodge the claw swings. Both can hear Alec's relentless battering attempts.

"Do you know what really bugs me?" Nick slowly walks towards the still recovering Clary. "I spend an enormous amount of money, buying a gift for my dear sire, my dear lady...AND IT TURNS OUT SHE'S DEAD!"

Nick strongly kicks Clary's ribs, making her fall again and drop her Seraph Blade. Isabelle loses her temper and clumsily struggles with her werewolf adversary. A strong push puts her on the floor as well.

"I did my homework," Nick continues his speech. "I performed a thorough investigation. I wanted to know how the only person who had been nice to me, the only woman I had ever loved in my miserable life, had died. It turns out that you, Clarissa Fairchild, had involved her in your stupid family feud, and sent her to her death...WHEN THAT DAMNED SOUL SWORD WAS ACTIVATED!"

Clary remembers all the Downworlders who died when her father activated the Soul Sword. She stares at the floor in shame and regret. The memory of all those vampires, seelies and werewolves, burnt under the sword's shining light, draws her tears out.

"CLARY, IT WASN'T YOUR FAULT!" Isabelle yells, struggling to stand up. "DON'T LISTEN TO HIM!"

"Nick, remember our mission!" The female werewolf firmly puts her foot on Isabelle's neck. "Our objective is to take the special Nephilim with us. Don't screw this up..."

"SHUT UP, BEATRICE!" Nick yells in anger. "I must do this. I must do the right thing..."

Clary defenselessly lies on the floor, with her face all wet in tears. She looks at Nick in the eye. She doesn't perform any defensive or evasive moves. She doesn't try to resist him at all. Isabelle tries desperately ridding herself of Beatrice's heavy foot dressed in a combat boot. She sees Nick raising his fist. No, no, no...

The double doors suddenly open, followed by a gunshot and a bullet that hits Nick's shoulder. Jace and Alec swiftly enter the room and charge against Beatrice, successfully tossing her across the room. They help Isabelle up while Sam and Dean face the vampire.

"Pick on someone your own size," Dean taunts him.

Nick sees the possessed army men's corpses through the open door. He raises his brows for a few seconds, then looks at the Winchesters and smiles. He pulls the bullet out of his shoulder without showing any signs of pain.

"I see those stupid demons failed. No matter. I can take all of you."

The Winchesters swiftly charge against Nick. They repeatedly try chopping his head off, but the vampire's celerity makes them hit nothing but air and darkness. The machetes whoosh with every swing they perform. Damn, he's fast, Dean thinks.

Nick appears before Sam and strongly punches his left ribs, chest and face, throwing him against a miniaturized imitation of a battering ram with the last blow. He then easily avoids being cut by Dean, places himself instantly behind him and strongly kicks him in the back. The Winchesters stand back up and charge against the vampire a second time, bearing the same results.

"You really don't know what you walked into here, agents," Nick brags.

Jace suddenly appears behind the vampire and grabs his arms. Nick tries getting loose, but the Nephilim's current physical strength is too much for him. Dean grabs his machete.

"You're finished," Jace's eyes turn gold.

When Dean is close enough, Nick strongly kicks him in the chest, making the hunter stagger and fall. He then violently struggles with his holder, managing to head-butt him and force the Nephilim to let go. Far from staggering, Jace maintains his balance and strongly punches the vampire's face.

"Dammit," Nick complains.

The vampire tries hitting Jace using his enhanced speed. The Nephilim evades each blow, grabs Nick by his coat and throws him against the wall.

"Time to end this," Jace draws his Seraph Blade.

The runes on Jace's weapon shine as they near Nick's pale throat. Its tip touches his pale exposed trachea. He knows there is no escape. The vampire shuts his eyes, seemingly ready for the end of his dark existence. It can't be, he complains. Not like this...

A bullet burst is suddenly heard.

"What the..."

Jace's jacket shows numerous bleeding bullet holes on his back. Seeing their companion in trouble, Alec and the Winchesters ready their ranged weapons. They see Beatrice carrying an UZI submachine gun.

"We made a mistake," she mutters as she helps Nick up. "We have to retreat."

"You're not going anywhere," Dean says.

Before the Winchesters can fire a shot, Beatrice shoots in all directions and forces everyone to take cover. Once gunfire ceases, all standing hunters aim their weapons in the direction of the monster pair. Only Jace remains at the scene, still on the ground, with multiple gunshot wounds on his back. He's barely able to stand back up.

"Let's help you, buddy," Alec passes his stele over all of his wounds.

"Damn mundanes and their guns," Jace complains.

Sam and Dean go after Nick and Beatrice while Isabelle stands up and goes to Clary's aid, handing her the Seraph Blade she had dropped. Alec helps Jace back on his feet.

"I had never seen any Downworlder move as fast as they do," Isabelle claims. "I could barely follow them with my sight."

After a few minutes, the Winchesters return empty-handed. The Shadowhunters sigh in disdain.

"Those two are gone," Dean sighs.

The group hears the sirens from NYPD vehicles outside. All stare at each other. Everyone nods at the same time while Clary dries her remaining tears.

"See you guys at the Institute," Alec orders.

The Shadowhunters go through the cops using their Glamour. The Winchesters, on the other hand, escape through the back door they had used to enter the museum. Both brothers reach the Impala without any kind of trouble.

Shadowhunter Institute, Manhattan, New York, 11:30 P.M.

Sam and Dean enter the Institute's main lobby, where Alec, Jace and Clary are already expecting them. The three Shadowhunters are standing behind four other Nephilim operating the holographic interfaces. The Winchesters join them immediately.

"What are we looking at?" Dean asks.

"I stuck a small tracker to Nick's coat when I grabbed him," Jace explains himself. "Seeing how things were going down, I thought it might be a good idea in case he escaped. Guess I was right."

"Genius," Dean genuinely praises him. "Tell me we know where he is."

"The guy's still on the move," Alec says. "We go in as soon as he stops. We just need a location."

Sam closely observes one of the holographic interfaces, in which a tridimensional representation of the city map is shown. A small, blinking purple dot moves around it in a fast manner, maintaining a realistically possible path. The younger Winchester is surprised upon seeing that the tracking software doesn't lose the vampire for a second, even with the speed he had observed earlier in the museum. He feels relaxed when he notices the blinking dot doesn't stop moving. He hasn't detected the tracker yet, he deduces.

Nick's representative dot slowly decreases its speed and stops at one specific point in the map.

"Show me where that is," Alec orders the Nephilim manning the interface.

"That location corresponds to an old Biker bar in Brooklyn," the operator answers. "According to city records, the place was shut down months ago after an NYPD raid. It hasn't been officially remodeled, sold, or used for any purpose."

"Any security cams nearby?"

"Accessing them now."

The footages do not show Nick or Beatrice near the place. However, Clary notices two black stains that swiftly appear and disappear. She meddles in Alec's conversation with the interface operator.

"Freeze that."

The operator follows the redhead's orders. The frozen footage still shows an empty street.

"Rewind that, frame by frame," she orders him again.

Upon reaching the sixth rewound frame, everyone notices the blurry image of two runners in the middle of the street. Both Winchesters and Shadowhunters rapidly recognize them.

"There they are," Clary asserts.

"Is the signal still in the same place?" Alec asks.

"Yes, it's still there," the interface operator answers. "It shows a mild level of movement, which means he mustn't have detected the tracker yet."

"We must move," Alec says. "Clary, call Simon and Luke. I'll call Magnus. We need all the help we can get."

"Is calling all of them necessary, Alec?"

"Back at the museum we could barely contain those two, and they escaped from all six of us in a second. I'm not taking any chances this time."

"Clary should stay here," Isabelle joins the conversation, still showing evident signs of weariness. "Those two monsters have a hidden agenda that surely involves her."

"What do you mean?" Alec asks.

"While we were locked up in that exhibit, Nick continuously blamed Clary for the death of his sire, who was seemingly a victim of the Soul Sword when Valentine used it. However, Beatrice stopped him when he was going to kill her, reminding him that their mission was to take the special Nephilim with them."

"Special Nephilim?" Jace worries.

"I'm sure she meant Clary," Isabelle asserts. "I mean, she has skills none of us have. And due to her connection with Ithuriel, she can cast runes none of us has ever seen before. Whatever they're planning to do, I'm sure it involves her."

"Izzy, I'm not gonna' miss this one because of some unconfirmed plan," Clary complains. "I can protect myself, and we have the element of surprise this time. It's the best time to strike, all of us."

"Clary, I didn't like what I saw, and much less what I heard..."

"Izzy, I'm more worried about you," Clary hugs her. "You fight, no matter how bad you feel. I can't do less, and I simply can't stay behind because some monsters threaten me. I'm going with you guys. Period."

"And we will protect you both, whatever it takes," Jace interrupts her. "We always have, and we always will."

"Don't forget us, folks," Dean reaffirms Jace's speech. "We might have never met before, but we have a lot of mileage. Everything will be all right."

"You can count on us," Sam says. "We're somehow in this together."

All team members, humans and Nephilim, look at each other with trust and acceptance. Sam approaches Alec and the girls, and all stare at Dean and Jace's handshake with joy.

"Let's consider the fight at the penthouse a tie," Jace smiles.

"All right," Dean smiles back with sarcasm. "You hit like a bitch, though."

"So do you."

After a short but intense laugh, Dean walks towards the Institute's exit doors.

"Well, we leaving or what?"

Abandoned Biker bar, Brooklyn, New York, 12:30 A.M.

A huge portal opens in the alleyway near the abandoned biker bar in Brooklyn. All members of the newly formed hunter team confidently emerge from it. They take positions all around the building. Dean shows a long face.

"Is something wrong?" Clary asks him.

"Nothing, it's just that I hate teleportation," he grumbles. "Besides, I left my baby all alone, parked near the Institute."

"Your baby?"

"Don't mid him," Sam soothes her. "Let's focus on this."

"The tracker shows Nick is still inside the bar," Alec asserts. "The movement pattern slightly varies, which is a sign he hasn't found it yet."

"Unless he hung it on some poor animal," Dean smiles.

While scouting the place, the team detects a known SUV arriving, from which Simon and Garroway come out once it's parked. A second and smaller portal opens behind the vehicle with another man emerging from it. The Winchesters don't recall having met him.

"Right on time," Alec sighs.

Clary discreetly and romantically kisses Simon, causing Jace's evident discomfort. The recently arrived man goes towards Alec, kisses him and hugs him. Sam and Dean watch the scene with astonishment. Is he…? Are they...?

"Sam, Dean, meet Magnus Bane," Alec makes the introductions. "He's a good friend of mine, and one of New York's most powerful warlocks."

"Warlock?" Dean asks. "As in hexing and spelling warlock?"

"I'm not like Rowena, Dean," Magnus calmly answers. "I'm one of the good guys, the kind that help people."

"How do you..."

"Please, Dean Winchester," Magnus elegantly interrupts him. "I'm Magnus Bane. I know many things..."

Despite the reigning darkness, the Winchesters take a detailed look at the warlock. They admit he's a rather handsome man, apparently in his twenties, well shaved and with a fashionable haircut. His constitution is elegantly slender, and his small eyes are barely visible during the night. He wears a seemingly expensive gray suit.

"Armani?" Dean whispers to his brother.

"Seems even more expensive to me."

"Sorcery pays, it seems..."

"Well, since we're all here," Alec interrupts the Winchesters' inappropriate conversation. "Magnus, I need you to take a look inside that building."

Without saying a word, Magnus weaves his hands in a strange way, making a small shiny green energy orb emerge from within them. He swiftly sends it towards the insides of the abandoned bar. His eyes adopt the same color.

"I see two individuals arguing, a male vampire and a female werewolf," he says. "The vampire seems uneasy and anxious, going back and forth all the time. The woman, however, seems awfully calm."

"Can you hear what they say?" Dean asks.

"This orb only allows me to see and sense the auras of living beings. As a matter of fact, theirs are not exactly normal."

"What do you mean?" Isabelle meddles in.

"They're too strong. It's like if they magically overcame the strength they could ever manage to obtain during their existences. I don't understand it. It's practically impossible."

"English, please?" Dean complains.

"They're excessively stronger and more powerful than they should be."

"That explains the events in the museum," Isabelle claims. "I saw them too strong and too fast for a pair of simple Downworlders."

"Any other presence?" Alec asks.

"From what I can see, it's just the two of them."

The shining green orb comes out of the bar and into Magnus' hand. His eyes regain their normal color. The warlock stares directly at Alec's eyes, then addresses the rest of the team.

"Despite what I said, we should have no trouble at all if we all go in together."

"I let the department know a training exercise would be performed in this area," Garroway says. "That should avoid any kind of police response."

"Well, you all heard the men!" Alec vociferates. "All of you take point! We're gonna' end this now!"

All Shadowhunters draw their Seraph Blades, the Winchesters introduce clips filled with silver bullets into their guns and Garroway grabs his service Glock-19.

"You can handle this, right?" Dean hands Simon his machete. "Remember to aim for the neck."

"Yeah," Simon smiles. "Good to see you too."

All hunters take point on both main and back entrances, weapons at hand and ready to storm the place. Everyone stares at each other. Everyone confirms their readiness. Alec is ready to give the signal. Breaching is imminent.

Just as they are ready to go in, Isabelle grabs her left shoulder and twists herself in pain before collapsing. Her willpower and commitment force her to hold her screaming so that Nick and Beatrice don't become aware of their presence. Formation breaks when everyone tries to help her. Alec freezes as he sees his sister in that state.

"What just happened?" Garroway shows genuine concern.

"Izzy," Alec holds his tears.

Sam takes the initiative and carries her in his arms towards a nearby pile of smashed cardboards. Then he stands up and grabs Alec's shoulders, slightly shaking him in order to bring him back to reality. The Nephilim keeps his sight on his sister. Her trembling gains intensity by the minute.

"Alec, I know what's going on with your sister," Sam stares at him. "I know how to deal with this. You guys get in there and end this, once and for all."

"She's..."

"I know," Sam firmly asserts. "I'll take care of her until it passes. You heard Magnus. We need everyone's strength, especially from you Nephilim. Get in there, get the job done. We'll be joining you sooner than you know. Trust me."

Alec shakes his head, composes himself and grabs Sam's shoulder, accepting the human hunter's terms. The younger Winchester sits on the cardboards near Isabelle, watching the team as it retakes its previous positions. All of them take position again before breaching. Here we go.

Sam stays near Isabelle. They both hear screaming, groaning, gunshots and broken objects coming from inside the bar. He notices the gradually decreasing intensity of her trembling. After a few minutes, she manages to sit and lean her back against the nearby wall.

"Thanks," She sighs.

"Don't mention it," Sam smiles. "I know what you're going through."

"Believe me, you don't really know."

"Oh, yes I do," Sam contradicts her. "What's your poison?"

"Vampire venom."

"Right..."

Isabelle is surprised at Sam's lack of commotion. What kind of hunter is he? How many things has he seen, or has he been through? Her questions fade slowly upon seeing the moon shine on the floor they're sitting on. Her trembling disappears completely, and her shoulder pain is no longer intolerable. She starts thinking clearly. Questions start roaming her mind.

"What was your poison?"

"Demon blood," Sam smiles. "However, I no longer crave it."

"Demon blood?" Isabelle raises her brows in shock. "Wow. How did you get through the abstinence?"

"Honestly, I don't know," Sam sighs. "My addiction was one of the things that caused Lucifer's release and, seeing all the havoc he caused during his stroll on our planet, my body simply decided to stop drinking it. Sure, there were really hard times, and I had relapses for reasons beyond my control. But whenever I wanted to have some, even when having access to it, I remembered all the disasters it had caused. Somehow that stopped me."

"Lucifer? As in, the Devil?"

"Yes," Sam sighs. "That Lucifer."

"From what you say, those weren't simple disasters," Isabelle laughs.

"You're right, they weren't. But I think that those who helped me the most were the people close to me. If not for them, I don't know what I would have become."

"This is all so, so hard..."

"You also have people who love you and care for you. Your brother, Clary, Jace...and I think Dean and I boarded that boat too. It's hard, but you can do this."

"You really believe that?" Isabelle stares at Sam.

"This few days I met you, I have seen a strong, smart and determined woman. You've got all things necessary to overcome this."

Without noticing, Sam and Isabelle's faces had drawn closer during their conversation. Both stare at each other's eyes. Only a few millimeters separate their nose tips. Their eyelids slowly descend. Their lips are about to touch.

Sam's cellphone suddenly rings, making them both separate. The reigning uncomfortable feeling can be sensed a mile away. The phone screen shows Mick Davies as the calling contact.

"Yes Mick?" Sam sighs.

"I'm calling you to give you an important update," Mick says after Sam put his phone on speaker. "The word you wanted to translate is not a term. It's a name. Chamsael."

"What?"

"It's a demon, Sam," Mick answers, getting Isabelle's attention. "According to our findings, Chamsael was created by Lucifer right after he created the Princes of Hell, and he kept it secret even during the demonic Incursion. The lore says he was in charge of keeping all others of his kind at bay, meant to quell any type of rebellion. More ancient texts say that his creator imbued its demonic essence with some of his own archangel grace, giving him immeasurable power."

"Another Prince of Hell?"

"More like the Archduke of Hell..."

"Damn it."

"We're talking about a level of po...sim...dev..."

"Mick... MICK!"

Sam notices how his cellphone and the nearby street lamps start going haywire. An unbearable smell of sulfur invades the air, and the nearby car alarms start going off one after the other. Isabelle smells an immeasurable stench of death.

"Let's go inside, now," Sam grabs Isabelle's arm. "We must warn them."

"Right."

Sam and Isabelle run towards the bar and storm through the main gate. The first thing they see is their team surrounding Nick and Beatrice, both sitting on the floor in cuffs. None of their teammates seem hurt or tired. Everything seems to have gone smoothly.

"Dean, we should leave this place, now," Sam breathes heavily.

"Wow, slow down there, buddy..."

"No, no, you don't understand," Sam interrupts him. "Nick summoned an extremely powerful demon, even more powerful than a Prince of Hell, and it's coming this way. We've got nothing to face it with."

"What demon?!" Alec grabs Nick by his trench coat. "What's he talking about?!"

Nick looks at everyone and laughs loudly. His gray eyes shine under the place's poor lighting. His fangs start drooling.

"What your giant friend is trying to say is that you're all screwed. He's here, and he's gonna' kick your pretty asses..."

The whole hunter and Downworlder team see how all the doors suddenly close. The light bulbs explode one by one, and the five bar stools fly all around the place. Blue sparks burst out of every electric socket until everything goes dark. After a few seconds, all unbroken electrical equipment starts working again. The place's old jukebox turns on by itself and randomly plays the Rolling Stones' 1966 single, Paint it Black.

"Hi..."

The deep and strong greeting voice belongs to a tall man standing at the center of the abandoned bar, measuring approximately 6 feet tall. His hair is extremely blond and shiny, perfectly cut in a military style. Despite being immaculately shaved, his face places him in his fifties. He wears a set of army fatigues dyed in digital camouflage, which fails to cover his extremely developed muscles. Sam and Dean pay special attention to his eyes, noticing that his irises show a yellow color, contrasted by the strong purple tint of his ocular globes. There he is, Sam thinks. That must be Chamsael.

The demon sends Garroway and Simon flying with a small hand gesture. Jace and Alec charge against him with their Seraph Blades and, after hitting nothing but air, they sense both his hands grabbing their heads from behind. Chamsael violently slams them against the ground.

"All right, who's next?"

Sam and Dean start shooting him while Clary and Isabelle charge against him. Chamsael sends the girls flying with a hand gesture, then teleports near the Winchesters, subduing them both with a single punch.

"Humans and their stupid toys," he sighs.

Chamsael walks towards the captive Nick and Beatrice. Before he can reach them, Magnus gets in the way, waves his hands and pronounces some strange words. The demon doesn't stop him.

"Don't disappoint me, child."

After finishing his casting sequence, Magnus shoots a strong lightning bolt from his hand, followed by a searing flame that fully hits Chamsael. The warlock sees with fear that his spell had no effect on the fearsome demon, not even managing to burn an inch of his army fatigues.

"My turn..."

After a finger flip, a potent lightning bolt comes out of Chamsael's hand and violently impacts Magnus. The warlock's clothes burn. His whole body convulses. Alec watches in horror as his friend collapses.

"MAGNUUUUUS!"

"And that's how it's done," Chamsael smiles.

Without anyone else to oppose him, Chamsael opens Nick and Beatrice's cuffs with his mind. Both stand up and try to finish off the hunter team. The demon paralyzes them.

"Forget these maggots," he firmly orders. "Let's take the Nephilim and leave this dump."

Still unable to stand, Clary and Isabelle grab their Seraph Blades as Chamsael approaches them. The demon takes the weapons away from their hands with his telekinesis and, using the same method, he pulls Clary towards him.

"What...what do you want with me?!"

"You?" Chamsael smiles and throws her away like a ragdoll. "Who said I wanted you?"

The demon attracts Isabelle towards him. The Nephilim stares at his yellow and purple eyes and smiles defiantly. Nick and Beatrice stare back at her.

"You're wrong," Isabelle struggles. "I'm not special. I'm an ordinary Shadowhunter."

"You lost your virginity at an early age, shared the bed with Downworlders and you've got some of their poison running through your veins. You seem really special to me."

The hunters try making a move, but the strength of Chamsael's powers prevents them from even standing up. Alec watches helplessly as his sister is being taken away. Isabelle, no...

"Enjoy what's left of your life, maggots!" Chamsael vociferates before teleporting with Beatrice, Nick and Isabelle.