Warning: Violence and angst.

Notes: A big thank you to Kiss316 who gives amazing feedback! And another thank you to those that take the time to write a review. I am grateful for each and every one of them.

Legend Killer Chapter 19

"We're taking this piece of shit north to the Nations where Orton is. We'll make Crowfoot drive that fucking angel out."

"You really don't want to do that," Seth warned. He wasn't going to let on that that was exactly what he wanted. He looked around, making it look like he wanted to bolt, but didn't dare make a run for it with Mark right there. Which was not entirely an act. There was something about that man that made the angel uneasy.

"Oh but we really do," Dean said. His smile was frightening.

"And you don't get a say in it," Roman told him, eyes flat.

Seeing how upset Seth was acting at the threat of going north brought Dean more pleasure than it should. But he was distracted when Roman abruptly turned gray and his knees start to buckle. Dean and Mark moved to catch him as he sank towards the ground. The strength he had used to comfort Dean had abandoned him.

"Shit Roman, you need to sit down," Dean told him as he guided Roman's arm over his shoulder, ignoring his own injuries. With everyone's attention fixed on Roman no one saw the sly look of satisfaction cross Seth's face.

"I'm okay," Roman gasped which was a blatant lie. Dean and Mark practically carried him to Mark's wagon and eased him into the back, where Mark gave him some water infused with herbs to help with the pain. A quick check showed that although the bullet wound in his chest was red and swollen, it had not reopened. After a few minutes, Roman nodded his thanks to the two men. His gaze slid over to Seth and he grabbed Dean's gun out of its holster and pointed it at Seth. "Let's see how fast you can run if I shoot you in the knee," he suggested.

Seth, who had been edging away, immediately stopped. He looked annoyed and afraid, which suited both Dean and Roman just fine.

"Your turn," Mark said to Dean, seeing the dried blood on Dean's shirt. Dean knew better than to argue with the doctor and wincing, took his shirt off. While Mark examined his shoulder, the lunatic glared at Seth, who pretended not to notice just to aggravate Dean, which worked. Studying the wound, Mark commented that Hideo's field surgery was exemplary and Dean, true to form was healing fast. Seeing Dean continue to glare at Seth, Mark sighed and told Dean "Brat, settle down and get on your horse. And you," he pointed at Seth, "You're in the back with him," he gestured to the back of the wagon and Roman, who looked less than thrilled.

"You're not my boss," Seth argued rebelliously, but he shut up when Mark gave him that look, and stomped over to the wagon. Hopping up beside Roman, he pulled his knees up to his chest and stuck out his lower lip.

"For fuck's sake, are you actually pouting?" Roman asked incredulously.

Instead of answering, Seth turned his head away and pretended to ignore them.

"Here," Mark handed Dean the reins to Seth's horse. "So the sneaky bastard doesn't get any bright ideas." He climbed into the driver's seat of the wagon and with a twitch of the reins, the pale mare set out at an easy trot, heading north.

As they made their way towards the territories, wagon jolted unavoidably over some rough ground and Roman winced, putting a hand to his chest in a vain attempt to ease the pain. Seth uncurled and looked speculatively at Roman. Roman ignored it as long as he could but suddenly he couldn't take it anymore. "What?" he snapped impatiently. He was in more pain than he had let on to Mark and Dean, and not just because he had been shot. That thing sitting next to him was using Seth's body and trapped his soul for some unknown purpose. That sickened and enraged him. Knowing he was too weak to be of any help to Dean and Seth was the final straw. His temper was getting the better of him.

Hesitantly Seth leaned forward. "Look, I know we got off on the wrong foot. But if you insist on this stupid course of action we need to work together if we want to survive," he said.

Floored, Roman stared in disbelief. This asshole was actually proposing they work together? Fuck that!

"I'm serious! This is not my fault!" Seth protested, easily interpreting Roman's nonverbal response. "You think I wanted to come here to this ugly place? I hate it here. I didn't pick this body. Hunter did. I didn't get a choice. And now you're dragging me to Orton? Well guess what? Hunter sent the Beast after Orton! Do you think I want to be anywhere near that shitstorm? Especially with two crippled humans and an old man?" The angel was quickly realizing how easy it was to lie, especially since there was some truth mixed in. No wonder humans did it so often. He could tell Roman didn't believe him but there was a bit of doubt there too. Seth wanted to build on that doubt. To his surprise, Dean grudgingly supported him.

"He's not lying Roman," the lunatic said unhappily. "Hunter did send the Beast after Orton. Bálor told me."

Dropping his head into his hands, Roman knew they were fucked. Neither Dean nor himself could take on the Beast by themselves even if they were at one hundred percent. Not without the god-damned Saint who had gone off on vacation for all he knew. Maybe the three of them could do it if Orton wasn't already dead by the time they got there.

"It's not just Orton, Hunter wants the Beast to destroy Crowfoot too," Seth supplied, turning the screws just a little bit more.

"Fuck, and of course he's the only one that can get rid of you," Dean said, frustrated. He studied Roman, noting how weak and pale his brother was. He made a decision. "Roman, you're still too weak for this. You should stay here with Mark and the asshole. I'll go help Orton and bring back Crowfoot." No sooner said than done. He started to turn his horse to go around the wagon.

"No! Fuck that!" Roman snarled in rage, pale at the thought of Dean taking on the Beast without him. He sat up straight, gritting his teeth against the pain. "We are not getting separated again. I don't care if I have to crawl there. If you go, I go." Roman's intensity made Dean pause. He studied Roman, then pressed his lips together and nodded reluctantly.

Looking between the two of them, Seth said in wonder, "You're really willing to take on the Beast to get Seth back even as weak are you both are?" Seeing the two glare at him, Seth made a show of biting his lip. He took a deep breath and tried to look earnest. "What Hunter did was wrong, I know that. Even though I can't undo what he did, I want to help." He knew he was laying it on thick but it seemed to be working.

"Bullshit!" Dean scoffed.

"I'm not evil," Seth said, exasperated.

"What is it you think you do to help us?" Roman asked, skeptical.

"I can heal you." Seth offered. "You'll be good as new if you have to face the Beast. Better even!"

Neither Dean nor Roman saw that coming. They stared at Seth for a few seconds then Dean flushed with rage. "Oh for fuck's sake! Do you think we're idiots? There's no way we're going to believe your bullshit!" Dean shouted at Seth.

Giving Dean a withering look, Seth turned to Roman. "I'm serious. I can heal you." He kept the earnest, honest expression on his face.

"Mark?" Roman asked, not taking his eyes off Seth. He hated that he hoped Seth could do what he claimed. "Can he do that?"

"He's an angel," Mark replied, keeping his eyes forward. "Which are diametrically the opposite of demons. Demons spread disease and destruction; so it stands to reason that angels can heal if they are so inclined." Of course once Mark confirmed it, they believed it.

"Even so, I don't trust him," Dean insisted.

"Wells that's good, because otherwise you'd be an idiot," Mark agreed. "But you have to ask yourself: do you want to face the Beast as you are now? Because if you do, you're going to get torn apart. Literally." He steered the pale mare around a low hill.

Hearing Mark say that out loud made it real and Dean and Roman traded sober looks. "What do you think?" Dean asked Roman. He trusted Roman's instincts more than his own.

But instead of immediately accepting, Roman asked Seth, "What's your game? First you try to kill Dean, and threaten me, now you want to help us?"

"I told you, I didn't pick this body, Hunter did. I don't want to be here at all. And since you're so fucking determined to take me to this Crowfoot, we have to through the Beast. Even in Heaven we've heard of it. It was the most powerful demon in hell. And to be honest it scares me. Neither of you are in any condition to face it without the Saint of Killers. So its real simple, if I want to live, I have to help you." Seth said. He was using every ounce of persuasion he could muster.

"I don't trust you," Roman said.

"Fine, if you don't want my help then use that gun on me and get it over with now," Seth said, sounding like he was done with them.

Sighing, Roman shook his head. His instincts were ticking over that Seth had some sort of agenda. But Roman was in too much pain to figure out what it was. And to get Seth back, he needed his strength. He needed to be whole. He came to a decision and hoped he wasn't going to regret it. "Okay, heal me," he said.

Mark stopped the wagon and turned to watch. He didn't say anything.

Dean pulled his revolver and pointed it at Seth. "If you try anything funny I'll blow you away," he warned.

Ignoring him, Seth reached out and touched Roman's forehead. Closing his eyes, he concentrated, channeling some of his power into Roman, carefully easing the hurt and knitting the torn tissue. Gradually, the color came back into Roman's face and he could feel his strength returning. When Seth removed his hand, he couldn't help but smile and sigh in relief at the complete absence of pain. Even the bullet wound he had gotten when Kane had shot him was gone. Then he scowled. He hated owing the angel anything. "Thanks" he said grudgingly. "But don't think for a second we're going to trust you." Seth just rolled his eyes. Feeling amazing, Roman hopped out of the back of the wagon and untied his horse's reins. Reveling in the sheer lack of pain, he swung up into the saddle.

"You're turn?" Seth asked Dean. Dean kept the gun pointed at Seth, who slid out of the back of the wagon after Roman and walked beside Dean's horse. He looked up. "Do you like to be in pain?" he asked sarcastically.

"Fuck off," Dean said.

"Get your ass down here so I can heal you," Seth ordered, sounding like his old self and Dean actually did as he was told before he could stop himself. He reached out to Dean, who glared suspiciously.

"Just let him do it Dean," Roman said. The sun was sinking towards the mountains in the west. They were running out of time and light. And they really didn't want to run into the Beast in the dark.

After Seth healed Dean, he walked back to the wagon, but Mark's waved him off. "This is as far as I go," he told them.

"You're not coming with us?" Roman asked, disappointed. In all the chaos, Mark had been a rock.

"Nope, you guys are good from here," Mark said.

"Where are you going?" Dean asked. He too was disappointed, but Seth had a hard time not smiling in relief.

"None of your business," was the answer in a tone that no one had the nerve to question.

Roman guided his horse over to Mark and held out his hand. "Thanks man, I owe you. Again."

"Kid, just don't die," Mark said as he took the offered hand and shook it. "And make sure the brat doesn't do anything too reckless." He jerked his head at Dean who scowled. "Watch your back," he warned in a low voice as he nodded to Seth who was sitting nearby on the paint horse. Roman nodded and Mark shook the reins to get the mare moving back the way they had come.

"Are we ready?" Seth asked, impatient.

"One minute," Roman answered and pulled a tie-down off his saddle. He rode over to Seth and told him to hold out his wrists.

"You're fucking kidding me," Seth said, looking around for help but there was only Dean, who raised his eyebrows as if to ask what the problem was. "For fuck's sake," Seth muttered and did as he was told. After Roman had tied his wrists together, Seth asked again. "Are we ready now?"

Nodding, Roman touched his heels to his horse and set out at a ground-eating lope. Dean and Seth did the same. In a few steps they entered the land of the Blackfoot people.

Randy and John had been walking for miles. Leading his horse, Randy had kept a steady pace, always keeping the mountains to their left. The demon Punk hadn't moved, still paralyzed by the venom of the viper's bite. John's headache was fading a little but the lump on his head where he had been hit with a rock still stung. The mist which had shrouded them when they had entered the natives' territory had cleared but that didn't make John feel any better. He was unable to stop himself from glancing west at the towers of sheer granite rising thousands of feet into the sky. The air was so clear he couldn't tell if they were a few miles away or a hundred. There was nothing like them out east and for some reason John felt uneasy just looking at them. He didn't say anything though. The silence between him and Randy weighed heavily. He was still feeling guilty about snapping at Randy earlier and searched for a way to mend the gap he had made. Finally he just decided to man up and apologize. He turned to Randy but Randy was frowning and his free hand was near his gun. "What is it?" he asked, keeping his voice low.

"The scouts should have found us by now," Randy said, his voice equally soft. He stopped and took a long look around. "Something's not right."

John looked around as well. Despite the ominous mountains to the west he couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. But after the incident with Reigns getting shot, he trusted Randy's instincts and experience. "What do we do?" he asked.

But Randy held up a hand for more silence. While John waited, Randy stretched out his senses, trying to get a feel for what was out there, making his instincts scream at him. To his annoyance, the proximity of the demon Punk was interfering with his ability to sense other demons in the area. The Blackfoot magic normally kept demons from voluntarily entering their territory, but he still felt very uneasy. "Let's keep moving," he said finally, turning to walk north again. John nudged the mare with his heels and followed.

They had only made it a few steps further when far above an eagle screamed a warning and with a surge of adrenaline Randy knew. "Fuck," he said and turned to John. "Get off your horse," he ordered while he grabbed Punk off of his roan. John obeyed and as soon as he quit the saddle, Randy was heaving Punk's body onto the bay mare's back, ignoring her squeal of terror at the demon. He looked John dead in the eyes and ordered, "Keep heading north. Get him to Crowfoot." And with that he vaulted into the roan's saddle without bothering with the stirrups, turning the horse to the south.

"What is it?" John asked, fighting with the mare. But Randy had already slapped the horse's rump hard with the ends of the reins. The horse leaped into a full gallop within three steps and was out of sight soon after. Swearing under his breath, he yanked on the mare's reins to keep her attention on him instead of Punk. She followed, trembling with terror. The whites of her eyes were prominent.

"Good luck," he said in the direction Randy had gone, and turned back north. Whatever was out there he hoped Randy could deal it.

Now that he was away from Punk's noxious presence, Randy could clearly sense the Beast. It was far too powerful to be bothered by the magical boundaries of the territory and it was moving in his direction. A litany of swear words repeated themselves in his mind. He shook his head and worked on coming up with a strategy to deal with the Beast. It was a hell of a lot stronger than he was. If it got its hands on him he was dead. His only advantage was speed. He had to be faster than the Beast.

The roan jumped easily over an arroyo. The wind in his face from the horse's speed was making his eyes water. He blinked away the moisture and far in the distance he saw it, waiting for him on the prairie. Its face was a mask of dried blood and it was smiling. Randy could see the demon in its human shell and he shuddered. It was monstrous.

Old man, I need you! Please!

He had never begged before. But there was only silence where an answer once would have been given. Swearing in frustration at Saint's continued absence, he guided the racing horse to go wide around the Beast's left side. If he could draw it back the way it had come, he might be able to lead it away from the center of the Blackfoot territory, giving the people more time to get away. He owed Crowfoot that much. The old shaman was the closest thing he had to a living family. He had taken Randy under his protection when Randy was still a novice demon killer. Without Crowfoot, Randy would have been killed before his third demon. Now it was Randy's turn to protect Crowfoot. He drew his gun, his ordinary reliable Smith and Wesson and aimed it at the Beast who only laughed as three bullets blasted into its chest. But the ploy worked. The Beast started running after Randy.

In the years since Crowfoot had given the big roan to Randy as a gift, he learned no other horse could match its speed or stamina. It had literally saved his life on several occasions. He had wondered about the animal but as far as he knew, it was just a horse. Randy had come to trust it completely. Yet he had only asked the horse for its top speed a handful of times. Running flat out was dangerous on this type of terrain even though the horse had never once put a foot wrong. He leaned forward and with a soft voice encouraged it to go even faster. The horse flicked its ear back and somehow found more speed. The miles he and John had walked for hours were erased in minutes.

And yet it wasn't fast enough. Randy looked back and saw the Beast was slowly gaining on them.

Looking forward, he gauged the terrain and his options. There were large boulders and granite outcroppings, along with sagebrush dotting the rolling hills. It wasn't the ideal place for a game of Keep Away, but it would have to do. He knew he was nowhere near strong enough to take on the Beast, but that didn't mean he wouldn't have to do it alone. The spirits that inhabited the territory hated demons as much as he did. They had helped him before and he knew they would help him now. He waited until they were closing in on a large, flat-topped boulder, one that was about as big as a horse. He drew his feet up and crouched on the saddle, careful balanced. He knew he would have to time his jump perfectly. If the horse stumbled now, he would fall off and it would be game over. But it didn't and Randy jumped from the racing horse to the top of the boulder, landing easily and pulling his revolvers. The sun was behind him so he had an unobstructed view of the Beast. His eyes widened at the rate the Beast was approaching but otherwise he didn't move. Adrenaline overrode any pain he had been feeling from his shoulder and he prepared himself. Below him, in the grass he could hear a warning rattle and he grinned viciously. He drew a slow breath, his focus narrowed to a single pinpoint. Then the Beast came in range and Randy emptied the barrels into it.

Nine bullets found their mark, and didn't make the slightest bit of difference.

Annoyed but not surprised, Randy holstered the guns, just as the Beast reached the boulder Randy had been perched on. With a single leap it jumped up to him, only to be met with both of Randy's feet in its face. The force pushed the Beast right back off the boulder. It tumbled down with a complete lack of grace, howling in rage. The howl transformed into a scream of pain. From Randy's vantage point, he was able to see the Father of Snakes sinking its long fangs into the Beast. The spirit venom would burn through the Beast's veins, slowing it down.

"Thank you Grandfather," he muttered. Even at a great distance Crowfoot was keeping his promise that Randy would never fight alone.

Taking a precious second to look around, he saw a massive Bear a short distance away, watching and waiting. He nodded at it. The Beast roared again, and Randy's stomach sank as the Beast grabbed the huge rattlesnake and threw it far away. It would take time for the venom to work on something that powerful. Too much time, Randy saw now as the Beast turned its red eyes back to him. His guns were empty and he didn't have time to reload before the Beast charged again. Randy braced himself, and dropped abruptly to his belly at the last second. The momentum of the Beast carried it past Randy but it quickly recovered. Randy rolled off the boulder, landing lightly and sprinting away. If he could just stay away from the Beast for a little while longer…

A huge hand grabbed him by his shirt collar and hauled him off his feet. Without thought he reached up and using the arm for leverage, he pulled himself over the Beast's shoulders. He wrapped one arm around its neck. Using his weight he forced the Beast's weight forward, off balance they smashed into the ground with the Beast bearing the brunt of the impact. Panting, Randy hopped up back to his feet and backed away. He scowled when he felt his empty holsters. The guns had fallen out during that last move. Oh well, they hadn't done much good anyway. Then the Beast was up again, its movements slightly slower and Randy couldn't help the cocky grin. Bad move. Enraged the Beast lunged, much faster than before, catching Randy in the left side with a fist. He heard his ribs break. Then the Beast picked him up again and this time, threw him spinning away. He landed hard in the grass. The world spun about him as he tried to get to his hands and knees. He couldn't draw a breath. A shadow fell over him and he looked up into the Beast's eyes. He glared defiantly but knew deep down that he was going to die.

"He's getting his ass kicked," Dean observed to Roman, eyes wide. Seeing it up close as it moved in on Randy was terrifying. That Randy was going toe-to-toe with it was incredible. Dean grinned savagely as he jumped off his horse, drawing his gun and putting two bullets into the Beast's back, drawing its attention from Orton. He holstered his gun and cracked his knuckles, swaggering towards the Beast. He wasn't going to let Randy Orton outfight him.

"Untie me," Seth urged Roman. "Otherwise the Beast will kill both of them."

Scowling and pressed for time, Roman just tossed him his knife and told him to do it himself. He hurried after Dean.

Ahead, Dean was punching the Beast with his fists for all he was worth. The Beast's eyes were blazing red, and the power was rolling off of it like heat waves as it swatted Dean away like a fly. Dean flew backwards, but was able to roll with the momentum, coming to his feet. "How do we stop it?" he shouted to Randy who had made it back to his hands and knees, coughing up blood.

He shook his head to clear it. "We don't," Randy said, between gasps. "That will," and for the first time they noticed the giant Bear crouched among the sage brush. It was growling at the Beast, but not getting closer.

"Holy shit!" Dean shouted in surprise. That size of that spirit was monstrous. But even so, it was obvious that even that wasn't strong enough take out the Beast. The Beast roared and headed for Dean. With a shout, Roman speared the Beast through the midsection, sending it crashing to the ground and quickly rolled to his feet, getting out of the Beast's reach before it could recover. Randy staggered to his feet, arm cradling his middle. The three of them surrounded the Beast and for a brief moment, the Beast hesitated. It wasn't sure which one of them to try to destroy first.

Then, almost flying through the air, Seth slammed his knee into its head, channeling his power to strengthen the blow. The angel's power staggered the Beast and it went to one knee.

"Nice!" Roman shouted, eyes bright with battle rage. The blow and the venom started to weaken the Beast; the power rolling off it faded just the smallest bit. Now finally seeing some progress Roman and Dean redoubled their efforts, tag teaming their attacks on instinct. Seth laughed out loud as the Beast went down to its hands and knees after a crushing blow from Roman's fist, and ran in and stomped down with all his supernatural strength. His boot drove the Beast's head into the ground. Then they all took a step back to assess the situation.

For a few seconds, the Beast lay still. The only sound was the heavy breathing from Dean and Roman. Seth, who had sat out most of the fight and bided his time, looked fresh as a daisy. They exchanged tentative grins. The sun had set behind the mountains, casting their deep shadows over the battlefield.

Then the Beast stirred and sat straight up.

"Fuck!" Roman breathed. They had thrown everything they had at the Beast and it was still getting up.

They all tensed, ready to attack again but the coughing roar of the great Bear made them back away. The Beast looked up at it, and for the first time it looked afraid. The Bear charged in, picked up the Beast's body in its claws. The Beast howled in rage and pain as it struggled to break free. The Bear threw the Beast to the ground and crushed it under its massive weight. They could hear bones breaking. Desperate, it pulled itself out of the Bear's hold, gave Randy one final look of hate, then turned and ran away south, faster than their horses could run. Far above, an eagle keened.

Growling a warning, the Bear's eyes glowed white as it looked directly at Roman. Then it followed after the Beast. For a long moment it was silent, but there was vibration in the twilight air like an inaudible violin note. Randy sank to his knees, cradling his midsection. With a huge grin Seth wrapped his arms around Dean and Roman's shoulders. "We did it!" he shouted. The thrill of victory filled them and for a brief second, they forgot it wasn't Seth who had fought alongside them as they shared their victory.

They should have remembered Mark's warning.

They should have remembered.

But they didn't. Seth's expression changed into smug satisfaction as he channeled his power into his 'brothers'. Too late Roman and Dean tried to fight it, tried to pull away from him but their limbs were suddenly very heavy and they sank to the ground, unable to stay on their feet.

"Thanks for helping me track down Orton. I couldn't have done it without you," Seth said with sincerity.

"Motherfucker," Dean slurred as his eyes closed. Roman didn't even get the chance to say anything. Within seconds they were in a deep sleep. Standing over them, Seth studied them thoughtfully. He had intended to kill them, but the soul of the body he inhabited rebelled in distress at that and had been forced him to merely put them to sleep. Interesting. He would have to do something about that soul when he got the chance. Looking down at the two sleeping avatars of the Saint of Killers, he said, "You guys are lucky I don't have much time," he told them. He turned and walked over to Randy who was struggling to his feet as he glared at Seth.

"You son of a bitch," Randy growled. He fought the darkness that gathered at the edges of his vision. He could see the angel inside Seth and though it was beautiful, it was a treacherous beauty. He wasn't afraid of it but seeing what Seth had done to Roman and Dean, he knew better than to let Seth get near him. He backed away, looking around for his horse. Not seeing it, he whistled through his teeth and heard an answering nicker in the distance. "What did you do to them?" he asked, stalling for time. Where were the earth spirits?

"I just put them to sleep," Seth shrugged. "I owed them since they did me the favor and brought me here."

"They brought you here?" he asked, shocked and disappointed. They should have known better.

"They wanted Crowfoot to get rid of me so I played along to get to you," he grinned, shaking his head at their naivety. Cocking his head to the side, Seth examined the Legend Killer with a decidedly arrogant air. "So you're Orton, the one the Saint cares so much about?" he asked, studying Randy with interest. "I've been sent there to get the Saint under Heaven's control, so that means you're coming with me."

"I don't think so," Randy told him as his horse trotted up to him. He was reaching for the reins when Seth whipped out the knife Roman had tossed to him earlier and stood over the sleeping Dean. "Get on that horse and I'll cut their throats," he threatened.

Randy hesitated. In the time he had spent with those two boys, despite his best efforts he had grown fond of them. Memories of Ted and Cody flashed through his thoughts and he felt sick. The last thing he wanted was for Roman and Dean to suffer a similar fate.

"I'm not bluffing," Seth promised. To demonstrate, he crouched down and pressed the knife into Dean's jugular. Big drops of blood showed black in the deepening twilight.

Seething hatred grew inside of him but there was nothing he could do except what Seth told him. Stepping back away from the horse, Randy raised his hands in surrender.

"Good boy," Seth smiled, all sunny again. He stood up and left Dean and Roman lying in the tall grasses. "You've got guts," Seth praised him, seeing Randy's defiance. "Taking on the Beast alone like that. Not too smart, but you do have guts. And to show you I have no hard feeling for killing my brother, I'll even heal you." He reached a hand out to Randy but drew it back, frowning. "You're demon-marked? That's unfortunate."

"What do you mean?" Randy asked, taking a wary step back, still fighting against the blackness creeping around the edges of his vision as he glared daggers at Seth. His side felt like it had been caved in.

"Demon power doesn't mix well with mine. And by 'well' I mean 'at all'. I'll have to brute-force things with you. And that's going to hurt. A lot." He reached out again but this time Randy was ready. He swung his fist as hard as he could, but he was hurt and Seth was slightly faster. His fist only grazed Seth's jaw, leaving Randy slightly off balance but it was enough. Seth grabbed his neck and with a growl, shoved his power into Randy. The demon-mark that Benoit had branded across his shoulders flared in opposition to the angel's power and Randy screamed in agony as the two opposing powers burned through his mind and soul until darkness overwhelmed him.

As Randy slumped to the ground, Seth gasped for breath. Overriding the demon-mark had had forced him to use much more of his power than he would have liked. And until he got Randy to a secure location, he would need to keep channeling his power to ensure the Legend Killer remained unconscious. The strength behind that blow would have taken the head off a normal human being. Had Randy had landed it square it would have hurt Seth badly. He reached down and rolled Randy onto his stomach so he could inspect the marks closer. His eyebrows raised in surprise when he recognized it. "Looks like Benoit had intended to keep you alive for a little while at least," he told the unconscious man. "Demons are so disgusting." Seth picked him up easily and slung him over the back of his horse. Mounting up, he secured the reins of Randy's horse to his saddle and set out. The mountains looked like fangs under faint glow of the last bit of sunset.

They met up with Hunter and his injured party before the sun rose.

TBC