Sam and Dean parked the stolen Camry in a parking garage in Old Town Pasadena and walked to a different floor in the same garage, chanting the camera-blinding spell the whole time. Dean gave the Impala an affectionate pat before they got in.

"Got an idea," he said. "Let's go to dinner in Beverly Hills, live like rich people."

Sam chuckled. "Got an idea. Why don't you just admit that you don't want to get too far from Bel Air?"

"That was a bomb, Sam. You saw what it did. It was sheer luck that Cas wasn't killed."

"Mm," Sam said, shifting his gaze.

"And that means. . .? "

"Maybe it wasn't luck. Maybe Cas planted that bomb to get rid of a bunch of Loyalists at once."

"I don't think he'd do that without telling me. And besides, in that case, why work out that whole plan to fake an attempt on his life?"

"Maybe to have us as witnesses? For some reason of his own? I'm not saying that's the explanation for sure, I'm just saying – we can't forget he's a demon. And I know – " as Dean began to speak – "I know we owe him. I owe him more than anybody. But facts are facts."

Dean nodded. "I wish he'd call, we could get his story. Damn it, this hard-to-get thing with the blocked number is old. Next time he calls he's givin' me a phone number or I'm gonna exorcise his ass."

Sam looked directly at his brother. "You like this, don't you?"

"'This' meaning – "

"The action. The plotting. Killing."

"Killing demons, Sam. And to paraphrase you, you know what they do better than anybody."

"Yes. I'm just, I'm a little worried about you."

Dean gave him a flashing grin. "Afraid I'm goin' demonic on you?"

"Not demonic. Just, maybe, a little disconnected from human concerns."

Dean's hand had been hovering over the key in the ignition. Now he dropped it and sat back, exhaling a long breath.

"When I shot Vincent, it really shook me up. I actually told Cas I didn't think I could kill anyone else, demon or not. Then I started understanding what you went through, and Hex killed those humans at the hospital, and I felt like – I wanted someone to pay for that crap. It was a lot easier to kill Malazir. And then when we were planning that fake assassination attempt the other day, I thought, too bad we're planning to do it when the cars are moving, otherwise I could put a bullet in Castiel's driver."

He thought for a moment, and Sam watched him a little anxiously.

"So maybe you have a point. I want to help Castiel see this through, but it seems like the more Loyalists get killed the more pop up, and the Terrestrials aren't exactly the good guys either. I can see where someone could wind up spending his life like this. Like Bobby Singer. And he's a great guy, God I'm glad he was there when he was. But I don't think I'd want to live that life forever."

"There are all kinds of ways of helping people, fighting for justice, without cutting yourself off from any kind of normal life."

Dean nodded. "I've got to kill Hex. Because of what I did, he wound up killing two humans, and he's not gonna get away with that. And I'm going to try to get Cas to go human and get the hell out of here with us." Then, with an unexpected thought, he looked at Sam. "That OK with you?"

After a moment, Sam nodded. "If he agrees to go human. If he stays a demon, Dean, it's just a matter of time until he hurts you, I mean physically. If he goes human, OK. And there'd be two of us to help him with the pain of changing."

"All right, then. We know the goal line, we've just got to get there."

"Do you have enough money? I could get a job."

Dean thought about it. "Yeah, enough for a couple of months, anyway. If Hex is still alive then, I'm gonna consider that a personal failure. I mean, if you want to get a job that's great, but we're gonna have to get ID with your own name on it and everything. And I've gotta tell you, I like having you as backup."

Sam smiled. "OK. Well, as long as you're rich, then, let's do dinner at Beverly Hills."

Dean started the car. "I really wish Cas would call."

.

Hannah waited silently upstairs until Castiel closed the door behind the detectives, then she appeared in the hall. "Parcell found Vulcan at LAX. He says he can narrow down his location within the airport given a little more time."

"Excellent." He opened the door again. "Devin, call Axel and Leo."

"Revard asked for their services about ten minutes ago."

"Revard came down here?"

"I think he went out through the kitchen and came around the house until he found them on the perimeter. Maybe he knew cops were here. His face is in one piece – doesn't look good, but he can talk."

"If Parcell weren't already on the Council, I'd say he'd earned a promotion today," Castiel said. "All right, find Ricardo and put him on the door. You and Inzur will find Vulcan at LAX and bring him back to the interrogation room. Hannah will call you in a few minutes with more specific information about – "

"Um, sir – " Devin said, looking over Castiel's shoulder.

Revard was walking down the staircase, followed by Lester and six of the eight guards Castiel had summoned earlier. As Devin had said, Revard didn't look good. His missing eye was covered with gauze and a cross of tape, and his handsome face was marred with gashes and pits. But the gaping rip in his cheek had been reduced to a thick scar by Parcel's magic. He stopped two steps above the hallway, the others grouped behind him.

"Revard, you look much better," Castiel said.

"I suppose I should be grateful," Revard said, sounding anything but grateful. "We're going to talk, Castiel."

"By all means. We can have a drink in my office."

"No. I want witnesses for this discussion."

Castiel's gaze swept over the guards standing behind Revard. "Where's Inzur?"

Leo spoke, sounding nervous. "He's, ah, he wouldn't leave the back door unguarded. Sir."

"Devin, go ahead and do what I just told you to do. Take Inzur with you."

Devin clearly didn't like the situation. "Sir – "

Only now did Castiel look away from the guards and at Devin. "It's very important that Frederic have the foods he needs for our dinner guests."

With a reluctant nod and a look at his fellow guards, Devin left.

Quietly, magically, an angel blade materialized in Hannah's hand from the sleeve of her jacket. It was an angel's trick that she'd worked hard to duplicate.

Castiel turned in the open doorway, squaring off with Revard. For anyone who knew him well, the absence of his trench coat made him look vulnerable. "Say what you have to say, Revard."

"You betrayed us, Castiel. You set up that meeting, you set the bomb. You did this to me, and you killed Megaera. And you saved yourself with the obvious ruse of a phone call from your aide, who loves you so much she'd do anything – "

"That's an insult, Revard." Hannah's voice was hard. "I don't love anything."

"Lust after, then." Revard looked at her with amusement. "It's pathetically obvious, Hannah. And you'll get nothing from it. We all know his tastes as well as you do."

Hannah took a step forward, and Castiel spoke quickly. "You've devolved to human-level sex talk, Revard. Neither Hannah nor I had anything to do with the bomb. Why would we?"

"A craving for power. You've never fooled me with your pretense of just wanting to be an advisor. Mr. Vincent is gone. Edward Vincent is gone. Malazir is gone, Megaera and Sarah Hughes are gone, Hex is in hiding. If you'd managed to kill me and Parcell, you'd have been the last one standing amid fallen giants. You could name your own people to high posts, make your own deals with Vulcan and other suppliers. You could reign supreme."

"That's absurd."

"No, it's not," said a voice from behind Castiel.

The demon hadn't walked up behind him; he had suddenly appeared. He was tall, with a patrician face and white hair. In his former body, Hex had looked like a thug with a psychopathic smile; in the surgeon's stolen body, he looked like an intellectual with a psychopathic smile.

Castiel spun, but stayed where he was. Hannah leaped over beside him, brandishing her angel blade. Axel and Leo lifted their guns, the other guards unsheathed their angel blades.

Revard's arms, of course, were still locked in a trunk, but he nonetheless descended the two steps to the hall floor, looking questioningly at Hex.

"Axel and Leo," Castiel said, "take Hex captive. Ricardo and Xavier, back them up, and – "

"No, don't," Revard said.

Castiel took a side step, moving a little away from Hex and standing where he could see both Hex's and Revard's faces. Hannah moved with him, keeping her blade poised. "They're my employees, Revard."

"And I'm your general, Castiel. In fact, I'm going to say that I'm now your capo." Ricardo looked at Hex. "Speak."

"Sixteen days ago, Castiel asked to meet with me privately at my home. Of course, I assumed it had something to do with Mr. Vincent's security. During our meeting, I couldn't understand what he was saying at first. I'm plain-spoken, and Castiel is so – so deft and subtle in speech. But finally I realized he was saying that the Loyalist cause would be better off without Mr. Vincent. He was trying to recruit me to kill Mr. Vincent."

"So, of course," Castiel said, "you immediately told Mr. Vincent, and he immediately had me returned to Hell."

Hex responded to Castiel, but didn't look at him. He was engaging only with Revard, his eyes wide, his hands spread open. "I didn't dare. Mr. Vincent relied on Castiel even more than he relied on me. He might think I was trying to destroy Castiel for my own reasons. I thought about it, and then turned to Edward Vincent for help."

"Because you always got along so well with Edward," Castiel said dryly.

Again, Hex addressed the remark without looking at Castiel. "It's true, I never liked Edward. But one thing I knew – he was true to the Loyalist cause. He would realize the danger of a coup by Castiel. And he told me that he did. He told me that Castiel would be taken care of. The next night I left to perform a profound infernal rite, praying to our Lord Lucifer to protect Mr. Vincent. And that same night, Mr. Vincent was destroyed."

He dropped his head and his hands in a pose of defeated grief.

"So, of course, you reported this to Revard and Malazir – "

"Shut up, Castiel," Revard snarled. "I want to hear this."

"Why? It's fantasy."

Revard took a step toward Castiel, and Hannah aimed her blade at his heart. "Look at my face!" Revard bellowed. "This isn't fantasy! Someone did this to me, and I want them to pay!"

"And they will. But the one who actually did it should pay, and that is Hex."

Only now did Hex look at Castiel, shaking, looking enraged. "You liar! Hell-bait! I confronted you in your office about Mr. Vincent's death, and you denied everything, and you didn't care! You told me that everyone would blame me – ill-tempered irrational Hex, without an alibi! You smiled that slimy smile and told me that if I just accepted the situation, I'd profit by it!"

He looked back at Revard. "I needed confirmation. I kidnapped that serpent Edward and tried to force him to sign a confession about his conspiracy with Castiel. But Edward escaped me, and you know what happened."

"We do," Castiel said. "You slaughtered Edward and two humans, one of them simply for his meatsuit, and brought human attention to us, on a national scale."

"I knew Castiel would tell everyone that my righteous indignation was a mere spasm of blood lust, that he would turn everyone against me by seeming like the rational, reasonable one. I fled to Malazir for protection. She believed me. She placed a protective spell on me." He looked at Castiel furiously. "And then you had her killed just to break the protective spell! Our only direct contact with our Lord Lucifer! You had her killed!"

"This is nothing but self-serving lies." Hannah's voice wasn't outraged, simply bewildered, as she addressed Revard. "Can't you see that?"

Revard looked at her with contempt. "I can see why you say it. Go on, Hex."

"I knew then, it was Castiel or me. But after Malazir's death, everyone went on high security, everyone blamed me. I had to check my rage, be cautious. I staked out Castiel's home. I followed him to the meeting. I saw his aide pull him outside, hand him a phone. And then I saw the bomb go off."

Unexpectedly, Leo went down the stairs, his angel blade pointed at Hex. "Hex, you've always been a lousy liar, and you're getting no better with practice." He walked between Hex and Castiel, forcing Hex to move aside a bit, and stationed himself at Castiel's right side; Hannah was on his left. "Just give me the word, consigliere."

Castiel gave a small shake of his head. "I appreciate your loyalty, Leo. Hex may appear unarmed, but of course he's prepared to defend himself, and there's no point in having general bloodletting in my front hall. There must be a better way to resolve this."

"There is," Hex said. "Where's your aide? The one who gave you the phone?"

Lester was actually sitting on the staircase, effectively hidden behind Axel. He stood reluctantly. "Um – I'm – But there was a call! Maybe it wasn't actually Hannah, but there was actually a call!"

"I believe you." Hex was apparently trying to sound reassuring, and it was more unnerving than his anger. "What's your name – uh – "

Lester shot a quick look at Castiel as though asking for permission. "Um, Lester."

"Lester. Why don't you take that phone and call back the number that the supposed call came in from?"

Lester shot another look at Castiel, then pointed. "He has it."

"Of course he does. Make the call, Castiel."

"I don't take orders from you, Hex."

"But you will from me," Revard said. "If you want this evening to end well for you. Give me the phone."

Castiel glanced at Revard, looked back at Hex. "You've planted a phone in my home."

"How? You have excellent security, and that's even before you increased it a while ago. I'm powerful, Castiel, but I'm not invisible."

"Give me the phone, Castiel," Revard said, "or the general bloodletting you wanted to avoid will occur. I will order these men to take the phone from you, even if it means going through your two defenders."

"Three." Ricardo went past Revard and stood in front of Castiel. "You shouldn't talk to the consigliere like that. You may be a general, but Castiel is powerful too, and I'm not going to risk being burned to nothingness just because you're angry about your face."

"And Hex is gone," Castiel said, looking out the door.

Sure enough, Hex had vanished.

"He transported himself to the front gate, and unlocked the gate with his magic," Castiel said. "Odd that he wouldn't want to stay to see his theory proven."

"Not odd if he thinks he's in danger," Revard said. "Give me the phone, Castiel."

Castiel sighed. He stepped out from among his defenders, glanced at them long enough to say "Attack only if we're attacked," pulled the phone from his jacket pocket, and handed it to Revard. Revard looked at the calls received, turned, and extended the phone toward Lester. "Is this the number that called your phone just before the bomb exploded?"

Lester came down a couple of steps to look at it, nodded. "But Castiel wouldn't do anything like that. He doesn't need to. He's got plenty of – "

"Need is relative, now isn't it?" Revard touched the screen to reply to the call, and began walking around the first floor, listening.

The group fell into an odd little formation: Castiel and Revard walking side by side, their defenders walking behind and beside them, Lester bringing up the rear, no one saying a word.

A recorded voice came from Lester's phone. "The party at this number has not set up a voicemail account. Please try your call again later."

Revard disconnected, redialed. They finished walking the first floor, headed up the stairs, all still silent.

"The party at this number has not set up a voicemail – "

Revard disconnected, redialed.

A few steps down the second-floor hall, they heard a phone buzzing.

Hannah's pretty face contorted with anger and fear. The sound was coming from the room where the SavorStop security monitors had been installed.

It took a only few moments for Revard to find the phone. He reached behind a monitor, pried some tape loose, and produced the rasping, buzzing phone.

"The party at this number – "

Revard disconnected both phones.

"Revard." Hannah's voice was dangerously quiet. "You can't possibly think I'm stupid enough to leave incriminating evidence in an office where I spent the afternoon."

"Perhaps not. But perhaps Castiel is cruel enough to frame you." Revard looked at Axel and "his" other three guards. "Take him captive."

"No!" Hannah cried, and all the weapons were raised at once.

"Stop, all of you!"

Only a few of them had ever heard Castiel's voice sound like that – booming, resonant, sharp as a sword. It petrified them all.

"I won't be taken in and tortured for something I didn't do," Castiel told Revard. "You and your guards are free to leave and to find evidence that will prove my guilt, if you can. You don't need to fear my escape. I'm sure that Hex is telling his story to every Loyalist he can find, as you will. I will not be safe outside of my home until my innocence is proven, as it will be. You and – " he looked at Axel and the three others disdainfully – "your new employees are free to leave unmolested. Lester, give Revard the key to the Continental."

Lester looked slightly anguished, but did so.

"The car is in the first slot in the garage. We will accompany you downstairs, just to make sure that all of you get safely into the car and out the front gate. You may ransack the city for evidence of my guilt – other than the words of a known liar. I will try to find evidence of Hex's guilt from inside this building. We'll see what the results will be."

For a moment it seemed as though Revard might order an attack instead. Then he fixed his one eye on Castiel and said, "Yes. We'll see."

Castiel stepped aside, allowing Revard's party to pass. He, Hannah, Leo, and Ricardo followed them down; Lester dove into his room as they passed it.

And when the security gate had swung safely shut, Castiel closed the front door and turned to Ricardo. "Would you like Axel's position on my residential security staff?"

"Yes, sir!"

"You won't be able to get your personal property for a day or two at least, I'm afraid."

Ricardo brandished his angel blade. "All I need is this and the clothes on my back."

Castiel, in spite of everything, gave a tiny smile. "I like your attitude. We'll see if we can't supply you with food and drink as well." He turned serious again. "We are in complete lockdown as of now. No one in or out, no supplies in or out, we'll have to make do with what's on the premises." He looked at Leo. "Find Frederic and the housekeepers, tell them the situation."

Leo took off, and Cas turned to Hannah. "The only exceptions to the lockdown – "

"Devin and Inzur," she said.

"Yes. It now becomes urgent that they find Vulcan and bring him back here. They're on their way to LAX, but it's a huge airport. We need Parcell to get us specifics, and fast."

Hannah nodded and turned toward the elevator at the end of the hall, just as the elevator door slid open.

Parcell stepped out. "I've found Vulcan at LAX." Then, seeing everyone's expressions, "What happened?"

.

Dean had just taken his first sip of beer when his phone rang. He snatched it off the table. "Cas? What the hell happened?"

Cas, seated in his office, looked a little baffled. "Cas?"

"Nickname. Deal with it. What happened?"

The explanation took several minutes, during which time Sam quietly ordered chicken piccata for himself and a hamburger "without all the extra stuff on it" for Dean.

Eventually Dean said, "So basically, most of the Loyalists think that you kil – " he glanced around quickly – "you did all that. The capo, the – the blonde, and everyone today."

"Some of them certainly will," Castiel said. "It depends on how many of them feel that it would be advantageous to them if I were out of the way. That will be the deciding factor, not whether they actually believe I'm guilty. Until I get a better fix on how many feel like that, it would be unwise for me to leave."

"And that's why you're calling when you normally don't like phones."

"I actually think my phone is quite safe, I just like to narrow risk as much as possible. But I did feel it was important to communicate with you."

"Damn glad you did. It's good to hear your voice."

"It's good – to hear yours as well."

There was a pause as Castiel let out a little, pained breath. Dean sighed a little, his eyes sad, and Sam watched him.

Then he shook it off. "OK, there's got to be something we can do at this end."

"'We'?"

"Sammy and me," Dean said, and Castiel heard "Sam!" in the background.

"At the moment, there is nothing. Two of my security staff are looking for Vulcan at LAX. If he escapes before they find him, we'll have to launch a worldwide search. But if they can find him at the airport, he'll be brought back here and will confess to plotting with Hex."

"You mean – " Dean looked around again and kept his voice low. "He'll confess to triple murder of his fellow demons, not to mention the injuries and the way he's endangered you? I don't know, Cas. He's going to pick a story and stick to it, and it's going to take a lot of fancy cross-questioning for you to trip him up."

There was a pause. Then Castiel said softly, "You must not forget, Dean, that I am a demon."

And after another pause, "Yeah. You're right. OK. But is there something we can do?"

"Not at the moment. But when I hear what Vulcan has to say, there may be something. You will need to be ready for that."

"I was born ready," Dean said with his best Andy Garcia impression.

"Well. That's good to know."

"No, that's a laugh line, Cas. You're supposed to roll your eyes and say, 'Give me a break, Winchester.'"

A pause. "We'll consider it said."

"Call as soon as you can."

"I will," and they both disconnected.

"Forgot to get his phone number," Sam said.

"Damn!" Dean looked at the phone as if it had betrayed him.

Sam leaned forward and spoke quietly. "You told him it was good to hear his voice, and it hurt him."

Dean nodded. "I mean, crap. How are you supposed to get to know someone if you can't even say something halfway decent without punching him in the gut?"

Sam shook his head. Then he said, "On the other hand, if anyone can handle it, it's you. You've never had an easy relationship in your life."

"Well, that's true."

"So what's the story?"

Dean looked around again. "Give you the details later. But I'll tell you what we're going to do right now."

"Eat dinner. I'm starved."

"Me too. But then we're going like a bullet back to San Berdoo. We're going to pick up the cash, the weapons, the laptop, a couple days' changes of clothes. We're going to speed back here and set up a base near Cas. Maybe one of those bungalows at Chateau Marmont, plenty of privacy if Cas needs us to do something interesting. We're going to get as much sound sleep as it's possible for you to get. Tomorrow we'll fill the tank, clean the weapons, do some research, figure out how to lay down a devil's trap in a hotel room. We're going to the mattresses."

Sam's mouth quirked "I think the Chateau Marmont already has mattresses."

"You know what I mean."

.

When Devin and Inzur found Vulcan at the airport, waiting for a plane that would begin boarding in ten minutes, he tried to dismiss them, saying he'd attend to their concerns when he got back from vacation. That ended when Inzur slid an angel blade up the back of Vulcan's gray cardigan sweater, resting the point against the base of Vulcan's skull, while Devin played drunk, looping an arm around Vulcan's shoulder and shambling beside and behind him, so no one saw what was happening. "Try and escape through the mouth," he said in Vulcan's ear, "and we'll have your head on a pike before you can do it." Then he gave a drunken-sounding laugh and clapped Vulcan's shoulder.

Vulcan tried to reason with them as Devin started the car. Inzur waved his hand, slamming Vulcan into the back seat, crashing his head against the car's ceiling, stunning him. While Devin put a special accessory in the car's cigarette-lighter jack and waited, Inzur slammed Vulcan into the car ceiling again. When the accessory popped out of the lighter, Devin took it and turned on the seat. Inzur grabbed one of Vulcan's hands and yanked it forward, and Devin pressed into Vulcan's palm the brand that would seal him inescapably into his body.

Vulcan tried pleading as they drove to Bel Air, and by the time Devin pulled up to the front door of Castiel's home, he was desperately trying to bribe them with astronomical sums. Only when they pulled him out of the car did he physically start resisting, and they had to drag him.

Ricardo opened the door of the interrogation room and the three of them handcuffed him to a chair. As a demon, he could have broken the cuffs in a few seconds, but he didn't have that time.

Parcell, wearing a soft burgundy shirt, his face and hair clean, stepped into the room, looked at the ceiling over Vulcan's head, and said a few Latin words. A devil's trap scorched into the ceiling, and now Vulcan was both trapped in a body and powerless; he may as well have been human.

"That was amazing!" Ricardo gasped in open admiration. "Can you teach me how to do that?"

Parcell looked at him coolly. "Once you put in a century or so as a sorcerer, yes, I can."

"What, Parcell, how – what's going on?" Vulcan gasped.

Parcell swiveled his gaze to Vulcan. "The question you want to ask is, How am I alive? And why am I wearing a borrowed shirt?" He looked back wryly at the three guards. "It's the only shirt of Castiel's that has any color at all. Someone must have given it to him. I wonder who."

Devin chuckled. The other two guards remained straight-faced.

Parcell pointed. "What's your name?"

"Ricardo."

"Ricardo, tell him we're ready. Devin, Inzur, go to Leo and get your security assignments."

Devin and Inzur walked out the door; Ricardo ran.

"Parcell." Vulcan was desperately trying to remain calm. "I don't know what's going on. Devin and Inzur wouldn't tell me anything. I don't know what you think I've done – "

"I think you're a mercenary who'd supply any weapon to any maniac," Parcell said. "What are they going to find when they eventually open your abandoned luggage, Vulcan? Gold, cash, gems? All three?"

"Please, Parcell. Please. I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm not happy to be here either. But thanks to you, Castiel needs an objective witness to – well, practically to eating dinner, much less questioning a suspect. Everyone else in the house is an employee of Castiel's, so that means I'm the only objective one here. Not to mention that, also thanks to you, anyone who sticks his head out of Castiel's house is apt to be murdered by Hex. Or by Revard. Oh, yes, he's alive too, Vulcan. And I'd say we should just toss you to him, except – "

He paused, smiling, and Vulcan stared at him.

"Have you ever seen Castiel when he's really angry? Most haven't. I've only seen it once before, years ago, and I'll tell you, given the choice, I'd take my chances with Revard."

There was the sound of footsteps in the hall.

"But you don't have the choice," Parcell said, still smiling, and Castiel walked in the door.

He was wearing his coat again. His step was easy, his hands and shoulders relaxed. His face was cold, almost expressionless, except for one raised eyebrow.

Vulcan settled a little in the chair, swallowed. He seemed to realize that this was the end game. "Castiel. Thank the Morning Star. Tell me what this is about."

Castiel stood directly in front of Vulcan, tilted his head a bit, and looked down at him, meeting his gaze fully.

After a moment, Vulcan looked away.

"Who hired you to build the bomb, Vulcan?"

"What bomb?"

Parcell let out a little huff of laughter.

"The plot wasn't yours," Castiel said. "You may not have even known who the targets were. That may be taken into consideration. If you don't try my patience."

"If a bomb went off – and it hurt Loyalists – it was probably Terrestrials."

Castiel shook his head.

Then he looked upward, walking in a circle around Vulcan. Vulcan's gaze jerked up and down, from the devil's trap on the ceiling to Castiel's face. He pulled forward as Castiel walked in back of him.

When Castiel was in front of Vulcan again, he said, "Ignem."

Hellfire leaped down from the circular border of the devil's trap, a curved sheet of flame that roared and flared. Parcell took a step back, looking impressed. Vulcan tried to shudder away from it in all directions, jerking around in the chair.

Castiel looked up at the ceiling, and the flames stopped.

Vulcan made a little noise. He was sweating and a spark was sizzling out on his sweater. His eyes were wide. "I know – Castiel, I know you can burn me, I know that. But I can't tell you what I don't know, even if, even if you consume me in fire. I don't know."

Castiel shifted his gaze to Parcell. "That is a limitation to having a talent with fire. Eventually the target will be consumed, and is of no more use. But some years ago, I learned how to stimulate nerve endings so that they feel like they're being burned, without actually burning them. This means that pain can be sustained indefinitely."

He looked at Vulcan's foot.

Vulcan gave a sharp scream, looking down at his foot in disbelief. He shook it, stamped it on the floor, yelled again.

Then he sucked in a gasp of relief and looked up at Castiel.

Castiel's voice remained quiet. "Imagine how much that will hurt when it's coursing down your spine. And there will be no end to it."

"Please don't. Please, Castiel. I really don't know anything about a bomb. I don't."

Castiel's eyes went black. He looked at Vulcan's crotch.

Vulcan screamed again. He doubled over as much as he could, he strained against the handcuffs. The chair zoomed from side to side, slamming against the invisible barriers of the devil's trap, and then toppled, leaving Vulcan writhing and screaming on his back.

Then he gasped, gave a couple of more short yells and a soft wail disrupted by choking.

Castiel went to the very edge of the devil's trap, looking with his shark's eyes down at Vulcan on the floor. "Who hired you to build the bomb?"

"No one." Vulcan pulled in a long wheezing breath. He didn't even have strength to set the chair upright. "Hex ordered four angel blades. I thought they were for use against Terrestrials. Someone else must have made them into shrapnel. I didn't know. I didn't know."

The black eyes shifted to Parcell. "Did you mention angel-blade shrapnel to him?"

Parcell shook his head, just once.

"What else?" Vulcan knew he'd made a mistake, it was all over his face, and he was desperately trying to correct. "What else would – "

Castiel took a couple of steps and looked down at the back of Vulcan's neck.

Vulcan's back arched spasmodically. For a moment he couldn't even scream, eyes wide with shock, making a gurgling sound.

Then the screams began, long roaring wails, a desperate baby's cries for help cut with, "Please no, please no, please no – "

Parcell looked away.

Vulcan kicked and bellowed, and now it was like he was trying to form words but couldn't.

The he gave a gasping despairing groan, sucked in a breath and let it out, moaning, slobbering, crying. His back relaxed.

"Who hired you to build the bomb?"

"Lester," Vulcan whispered. "Lester did."

Castiel raised his head. Parcell looked slightly surprised.

Castiel looked back down. "Who is he working for?"

"No one. He didn't tell me anyone. He said he was finally going to get the recognition he deserved. Move up," Vulcan sobbed, "move up a couple of rungs."

Parcell looked dubious. "That would require Hannah's and Castiel's deaths, not mine or Sarah Hughes'."

"The end result is the same," Castiel said, "if Hannah and I are framed for the deaths of the others. But I believe that the other deaths are advantageous to someone."

"Whoever's using Lester," Parcell said, and Castiel nodded.

He looked, still with shark's eyes, down at Vulcan. "When did Lester come to you?"

"Two days after Malazir's death."

"You put the bomb together in four days?"

"I had what I needed on hand." His cheek pressed to the floor, Vulcan rolled his head, trying to meet Castiel's pitiless gaze. "I can still be useful to the Loyalists."

"Parcell, can you put that chair upright in the devil's trap? This is annoying."

Parcell focused on the chair, moved his hand slightly. It tipped back up on its legs, and Vulcan gave a grunt of pain as his back rocked against the chair's back.

"If you had equipment for a bomb on hand," Parcell asked, "why did you need to steal an angel blade and bullets from Mr. Vincent's armory?"

Vulcan's eyes widened, and he shook his head, tiny tic-like jerks. "I didn't. I swear I didn't. I don't need to. Look at my workshop. I've got plenty of those things there, I wouldn't need to steal anyone else's."

Castiel took a breath, but before he could say anything Parcell spoke. "It's as you said, Castiel. Two killers."

With a ghost of a smile, Castiel nodded, and his eyes went back to human. "How did Lester pay you?"

"The down payment in gold. I shipped it on ahead. The rest was a cache of Euros, hidden. He said he'd probably be busy after the explosion, so he'd phone me with how to find the cache." He gave a shaken sigh. "I should have left it, got on an earlier plane."

"We would have found you. Parcell, I have no further questions. Do you?"

Parcell smiled dryly. "I can't think of anything. But doubtless the infernal torturers will think of something to ask."

Vulcan screamed. He stared at Castiel. "Please please no. I can't do that again, I can't go through it, I told you everything, please – "

Hellfire engulfed him. He didn't even have time to scream again before he was a heap of glowing bones lying on a pile of burned wood, and then merely a lumpy, charred black streak and melted handcuffs.

Parcell looked at Castiel with startled disapproval. "That was merciful."

Castiel stood still.

"Castiel?"

He raised his head as though the action would snap his neck. "There would have been no point. He'd told us everything. And I don't want one of our helpful human exorcists to know about this room. A quick destruction was – most logical."

"And it just struck me," Parcell said with sudden amusement, "that when Lester sees this he'll be very motivated to cooperate."

"We can't arrest Lester. Hex and Revard will claim that I'm simply framing Lester for my own crimes and that I've bribed you into abetting me. I want to be cleared, completely, in such a way that even Revard can have no question about my, or Hannah's, innocence."

"How?"

"To begin with, we will go upstairs now, call the staff together, and tell them that Vulcan confessed nothing. He insisted to the end that he had nothing to do with the bomb. I grew tired of his resistance and destroyed him in a fit of anger."

"Mm," Parcell said dubiously. "That doesn't sound like you."

Castiel looked at him and, even with human eyes, his expression was unnerving. "It's been a bad day. They'll believe it."

Parcell nodded.

"We will tell the staff as a whole to prepare themselves for a siege until we can resolve the issue. We will not single out Lester in any way. I want him to feel confident that he is under no suspicion."

"And then?"

"And then I want him to confess, completely, publicly, and under no duress."

Parcell looked amused and intrigued. "How?"

"Give me a day," Castiel said. "I'll think of something."