Seven

The fifth death in a time frame of two weeks had occurred the morning after LeSalle had spoken to his friend Amber about the spirits. He didn't understand why they were acting out. Spirits did not get angry unless they had a reason to be, knowledge he'd learned thanks to his father's training and his own self teaching through thousands upon thousands of books of lore. Even now as he stood with Dean and Drew at the latest scene he was overcome with the sense that something just wasn't right. Drew stepped lightly into the house where the three people had been slaughtered in the same way as the priest in LeSalle's place of worship. The police were too busy to notice Drew searching for signs of the spirit and Dean checking the air with his EMF detector. LeSalle snuck a peek at the living room where most of the blood still remained and would probably never come out of the wood floors.

LeSalle sighed as he took the stairs to the second crime scene where a young girl had been murdered by the spirit. When LeSalle ducked under the yellow tape in front of her bedroom he determined she couldn't have been more than seven years old. He took a shaky breath and bit his lip at the thought of such a young life being taken away so soon. He walked over to the window and ran his fingers across the edge. Outside Drew was talking to the neighbors and witnesses who'd' called the police. He could only imagine Dean was downstairs trying to find some evidence of where the spirit had gone. LeSalle looked over at the bed where a stuffed dog rested by the pillows. He picked it up and stared into its black bead eyes that were smeared with dried blood along with the whole right side of the toy. He felt this fire begin to boil up in the pit of his stomach, but LeSalle calmed himself. If he let his power take over uncontrolled he could've done dastardly things to the crime scene and to everyone in the house investigating.

"Why are y'all doing this," LeSalle asked no one in particular, hoping that if there was a spirit left in the vicinity he'd get an answer. "What is your problem?"

LeSalle heard a small creak in where the foundation was adjusting to the heat, but there was more to it. He was drawn closer to where the old house was settling and his keen and trained eyes fixated on tiny scratches on the baseboard. They were fairly recent and they formed a few choice and chilling words that sent the cold right up LeSalle's spine.

"She rises, thus we rise with her."

The girl had been found near the closet and if LeSalle put two and two together he theorized that her nails were going to broken with dried blood on them after the medical examiner did his job. For the parents had been the kill, the girl had simply been the messenger. The messenger for whomever 'she' was and somehow LeSalle knew he didn't truly ever want to find out.

"I figured I'd find your ass here." LeSalle spun around to see Deacon entering the room.

"Touché," LeSalle replied, taking a few steps away from what he'd been looking at and maneuvering around Deacon as he entered the bedroom. "I thought I smelled a rat."

"I love it when you try to come up with good insults," Deacon smirked. "It's almost poetic in a way."

"At least I don't run around calling everyone a faggot," LeSalle snarkily said. "That's real original let me tell ya."

"You're just lucky I didn't run into your little boyfriend out there," Deacon motioned to the window and to Drew who was finishing up interviews with witnesses to the crime. "I bet he'd have cracked like a hardboiled egg on a hot summer day."

"You leave him out of this." LeSalle replied defensively with a menacing glare.

"Then stay off my case," Deacon warned him. "And we'll call it even. I'll leave pretty boy alone and you get gone got it?"

"You're lucky I speak Neanderthal," LeSalle said. "Or that statement of yours might have gotten misconstrued."

Deacon practically growled in anger and shoved LeSalle out of the room, his shoulder hitting hard against the door frame and he cursed in pain. He could handle Deacon's rude comments and snide remarks when they were directed at him, but the second anyone insulted Drew he went into full on protect mode. Drew was a seasoned hunter, but he was sensitive when it came to words. Humans wouldn't hesitate to hurt him easier than monsters ever could and that was what worried LeSalle the most about the man he loved. LeSalle begrudgingly left the room, never mind what Deacon found even if it was the same thing, he had what he needed to get one step further in the game.

If only he could figure out whom 'she' was?

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

"I apologize for my brother's frivolous and frequent attempts to sleep with you." Sam said to Delilah as the pair sat on the porch of her house reading over books of lore about spirits. Not that it got them any closer to figuring anything out, but Sam was still waiting for the word from Dean to tell any of the people hosting their stay about what Castiel the angel had told the brothers.

"Well that's random," Delilah replied and took a sip of the lemonade Loretta had made for both of them. She claimed it was thinking juice and that it was getting too hot and they needed to stay hydrated. "Thank you for your concern Sam, but I think I can handle a guy making passes at me."

"I'm sorry that it happens enough for it to be an issue." Sam smiled over at her.

"You're sweet Sam," Delilah said, setting her glass back down on the table in front of her. "M'surprised you're not hitched yourself."

"My girlfriend died." Sam swallowed hard. He hadn't wanted to talk about Jess ever again. It was too painful, much less he hadn't wanted to be so blunt, but it had just come out.

"Oh," Delilah's voice turned slightly solemn, which was what Sam had been afraid of. "I'm sorry Sam. I really am. I've lost a lot of people in my life and I understand how hard it is to let someone like that go."

Sam remained silent.

"I guess that was stupid word choice," she continued. "You didn't let her go. I meant to say it's painful to see, to watch, anyone go off into that nether world we've only heard about in books or Sunday school. I'm sure she's watching over you though."

"She wouldn't be real proud of what I've been doing lately." Sam thought before he actually replied with a much less cryptic answer.

"I sure hope so," Sam replied. "I need it some days."

"I know right," she chuckled a little. "Some days are harder than others, especially in this business."

"Is hunting how you met LeSalle?" Sam considered it a fair question. He knew so little about the man who was hosting them and he figured if he was going to learn anything it'd be from his best friend.

"Nah," she explained. "I met him in some bar way out in the boonies here. He was in between jobs and so was I. He surprised me by not hitting on me and he even bought the rest of my drinks for the night. We started to talk about New Orleans and how we'd both grown up there and we were determined to stay stuck there for the rest of our lives. I found it honestly refreshing to meet someone who thought sort of like me. I kept running into him and ultimately I thought it was by pure chance, but I think it was just because I was living out of a motel in town and he managed to find me again and again. Eventually he found out I was homeless, I'd been kicked out by my mom ya see, so he brought me home with him and I've stayed here ever since."

"It takes a lot of balls to go home with some random stranger and not feel the slightest feeling of 'oh my God I'm going to get killed'."

"I've never been the smartest girl in the tool shed," Delilah laughed and smirked. "I took a chance, a big risk at that, but it turned out just fine."

"Is there a reason LeSalle is the way he is?" Sam asked his final question that had been haunting him.

"You sure do like to pry don't you?" she replied.

"I like to know about the people I work with." Sam said for it seemed plausible enough.

"Every man and woman has their demons and their secrets," Delilah explained. "He's secretive. There are things I know he keeps from even me and Drew, but I'm sure it's for good reasons. I've never pried too deeply and I know he won't ever pry too deeply with me either."

"I understand," Sam nodded. He really did. He knew what it was like to not tell somebody close to him something. He was doing that exact thing to Dean right now with the demon blood. "I really do. I'm happy for you though, that you two have each other."

Delilah was about to pick her book back up when she heard the crunching of tires in the gravel driveway and the sound of a car engine being cut off.

"Speaking of Salle," she stood up and Sam followed suit. "I do believe by the way he's storming up to the house he might have something he wants to tell all of us."

Reviews are appreciated!

Will LeSalle share what he found or work it himself?

Or will Dean and Sam share their side of the equation?

More to come soon.