Hunter of the Shadows book 2:
Hunter Rising
Chapter 3
Now...
Dean sighs heavily and rubs his eyes.
"It was nice seeing the guys again," his voice shakes with worry and exhaustion. He pinches of the bridge of his nose and blinks, "Uh... where was I?"
"At the part where you get some rest, young pup," Tobius suddenly appears directly right behind Dean and grabs him around the neck. Before the younger wolf can turn or fight back, with lightning speed two fingers are pressed firmly into the pressure point under Dean's ear, and he slumps unconscious in his Sire's arms.
Tobius smiles sadly down at his son, slides an arm under the younger man's knees and carries him over to the other bed. After a small pause, the ancient werewolf effortlessly pushes the two beds together and tucks a spare blanket round his little family.
Turning to the camera, he eyes the lens closely with suspicion.
"Dean hasn't slept in four days, so before I'm read the riot act, please consider what it will do to him... and his son... if he doesn't get some sleep." He reaches out a hand towards the top of the camera. "He'll be back soon but, in the meantime, talk amongst yourselves..."
With an audible click the screen fuzzes over with white, and turns black.
&
Another click.
Dean's face appears, adorned with a tight yet amused grin.
"I just watched the end to last night's video entry." He shakes his head a little. Although he's looking much more awake the persistent shadows under his eyes tells the digital watcher he could still use more rest.
"Don't think Sire likes the camera." Dean continues. "Finds it intrusive. He keeps complaining that it feels as though he's being watched." He shrugs and laughs faintly. "Which he is… kinda. Anyway, on with the journal entry..."
Then...
The two men glanced at each other for a second, maybe mentally drawing straws as to who should speak first.
Evidently, Bobby drew the short one.
"It ain't just those special kids you gotta watch out for," his ominous tone sent shivers down my spine, and everyone froze, all eyes on the grizzled hunter.
"What do you mean?" Sam asked, getting straight to the point, much to Bobby's approval.
Bobby took a slow breath, then let it out.
"I had a visitor to my yard," he explained. "A young woman by the name of Meg Masters." Eyebrows raised, he stared at each of us in turn.
We all shrugged.
"Can't say the name rings any bells," I replied.
"Never heard of her," said Tobius.
Sam shook his head. "Me neither. What did she want?"
Bobby turned that fiercely intense gaze on the kid, and said quite pointedly, "You."
The flames cast shadows across Sam's face, making his cheekbones appear sharper, more defined, and the thick black band around his irises seemed more pronounced. He looked every inch the bold hunter he'd become, eyes glowing beautifully, shoulders relaxed and body fluid, and I could almost hear his brain ticking over.
"One of the special kids?" he barked out.
"I thought she was, 'til her eyes rolled black," Bobby replied. "Naw, she wants to meet you. Reckons she's got somethin' you need to hear."
Sam gave a sharp nod. "It's a trap."
"Yep," Bobby responded without hesitation. "I'd say that's a given." He grinned. "Damn shame for her, the bitch walked straight into a trap of my own."
Tobius laughed, softly. "I see. A Devil's trap, I assume?"
"On the study ceiling," said Bobby, smugly. "Put it there last summer, with Pastor Jim's help."
"So, that's it?" I folded my arms and scowled. "She just wants to talk? Where is she now?"
Pastor Jim seemed to take pity on Bobby at this stage, because he took over.
"We don't rightly know."
My scowl deepened. "What?!"
He shrugged and explained.
Once 'Meg' walked under the Devil's trap, Bobby had called Jim Murphy for backup.
The two hunters spent several hours interrogating the demon, but achieved a total of diddly squat. The hellbitch wasn't giving anything away, just insisted on speaking to Sam. The only thing they learned of any comfort? Azazel and his kids were obviously having trouble finding us, because Meg's orders had sent her to Bobby, figuring she could capture and torture him into giving up Sam's location.
Another phone call, this time to Lenore, and two days later Bobby and Jim set out to meet up with us, leaving 'Meg' tied to a chair under the Devil's trap, guarded by three of Lenore's strongest vampires.
But with the tables now well and truly turned on the demon, there must have been a catch.
And there was.
The bitch acted like a homing beacon for Azazel's kids. Wherever she found Sam, they would soon show up. At least that was the plan. Apparently, finding herself in an impossible situation, she'd called to them, drawing them in and using them to procure her escape.
Which was why Lenore had called Bobby a day later with the news that two of the vamp guards were dead, brutally decapitated. The third vamp nearly met the same fate, but quick reflexes saved her life. She came away with her own battle scars, however, because her throat was ripped open during the attack.
The vampire had described two young adults in their early twenties, a short dark haired girl, and a guy with dark skin.
The guy took care of the vamps whilst the girl set about breaking the devil's trap on the ceiling… just by looking at it.
That was more than a little disturbing. Even more so was the knowledge that one single, solitary guy took on three of Lenore's vamps… and won.
Not only did he rip the heads off two, but tore the sculls clean apart. Just for fun or to make a point, no one was certain.
"Jeez!" I ran a shaky hand through my hair. "Guy should lay off the caffeine, huh?"
Sam attempted to smile at the poor joke, but it fell a little flat.
"The surviving vamp told Lenore he had the strength of a hundred men," Pastor Jim murmured, worriedly. "I suggested the poor thing was exaggerating due to her injuries and shock, but Lenore assured me it was the truth. In fact, she went as far as to say it was probably an understatement."
The five of us sat in silence, mulling that over.
"Is she going to be ok?" Sam asked, suddenly.
Pastor Jim smiled. "She's already on the mend, young Sam. Vampires heal quickly, just like you."
The youngster nodded, obviously relieved.
"So what happens now?" I glanced around our group. "Do we go after 'Meg' first? Or do we head for the Incredible Hulk and pray he doesn't stuff our heads up our own asses?"
"I don't think going after anyone is such a good idea," said Tobius, "until we have a solid plan of action at any rate."
"We wouldn't know where to look, either." Jim nodded his agreement.
"So, we're just gonna sit back and let them come to us?" I exclaimed, angrily. "What the hell kind of plan is that!"
"Dean," Sam murmured and gripped my arm. "What do you suggest we do? Go into a full battle without all the facts? Dude, it sounds like this guy could rip us to pieces!"
And yeah, I knew he was right. But I sure didn't like it. Sitting around waiting for the shit to hit the fan just ain't my style.
Tobius glanced at me, eyes narrowed, and nodded.
"We're not going to figure out anything running on empty," he yawned widely then slowly stretched into wolf form, muttering "let's all get some proper sleep and we'll talk again" as he did so, voice deepening into a tired growl.
"Not such a bad idea," Bobby stood and grabbed his pack from near the campfire. He shook out two tightly rolled sleeping bags, each unfurling to reveal a weapon. Bobby's contained a shotgun, which he immediately scooped up and checked over.
He grinned at me and opened his jacket, the dull gleam of a sawn-off catching the firelight. "Never hurts to carry a spare."
Jim swiped up a machete from his own sleeping bag, unsheathed it for a quick inspection, then tucked it under his bed for the night.
"Huh," I snorted, cockily. "Try not to cut your own head off when you roll over."
The Pastor glared at me. "I was wielding blades larger than this before you were even a twinkle in the postman's eye, boy!"
"Questioning my parentage?" I clutched a hand to me chest and fluttered my eyelashes. "That hurts, man."
"I'm sure," was his sarcastic reply.
Like that wasn't ironic!
A soft doggy-like snore caught my attention, Sam's red furry ears tickling my chin. He was changing in his sleep, nose elongating into a snout, soft warm air puffing through his nostrils. A long tongue appeared, swiping once round his chops before lolling down over my shoulder.
Nice, Sammy. That's real nice.
I could have sworn there was a small smirk on his face, just for an instant, but his breathing soon evened out and the kid was snoozing away, the soft downy hair shifting slightly as his chest slowly expanded and contracted.
Our inner wolf switches prefer to take control out in the open, and mostly we let them. It's a protective instinct, against the cold and any potential threats lurking in the darkness beyond the firelight. It's a hell of a lot easier to defend ourselves, and our territory, in wolf form, with the added bonus of better hearing and sense of smell. Hence we never bother with a guard rota while we rest.
Sam grunted softly and rolled into me once my own change was complete, burying his wet snout in my neck, and at the same time I curled my head and tail round him.
I sensed the humans watching us with fond curiosity whilst we settled down for what was left of the night. Bobby looked like he wanted to curl up with us, so I gazed at him, my jaw changing briefly to deliver permission.
"If you get cold," I uttered, vocal cords deep and gritty from the temporary partial change, "by all means, join us."
I wasn't about to let our human family get sick. Not if I could help it.
Bobby snorted with laughter. "Kid, as tempting as that is, I think I'll decline. Got a perfectly good sleeping bag right here." He patted the soft material, winked and climbed in fully clothed.
Bobby didn't fool me for a second, though.
I remember when I was a kid, staying at the salvage yard, sometimes finding the guy asleep on the ratty old sofa in the living room, his two elderly Rottweiler's curled up with him for warmth. Those dogs followed Bobby everywhere, right up 'til the day the older one died right on his master's heels, faithfully crossing the yard. The younger one pined for his lost brother, finally passing away a few months later.
Bobby never really got over that.
Staring down at my beautiful son, the kid snuffling and snorting in his sleep, lying safely between his grandfather and me, I could understand why.
Gently pushing my snout into his ear and huffing softly, I bid him goodnight.
Sleep well, Sammy.
We only slept until the sun was fully up and casting its warm, morning rays across the meadow, but it was a sleep much needed by all. Allowing the human hunters another hour or so to rest, Sammy and I were about to slip away, leaving Tobius to watch over them and stoke the fire. But we lingered for a while, feeling worried and protective.
Sire shook himself from head to tail, and changed.
They'll be fine. Humans aren't designed to go as long as us before recharging.
We won't be long, I replied, and brushed against Sam, gently nudging him away from the camp.
Dean? Sam sounded a little doubtful. I smothered a grin. Had a feeling I knew what was coming.
Yeah!
Are you sure Bobby and Pastor Jim will be ok with… er… fresh meat?
You mean, I responded casually, fresh kill? Oh sure. They're hunters, Sam. Not vegetarians.
I know that! Sam snorted, reached over and nipped at my neck as we trotted through the trees, and headed towards the river. But there's a hell of difference between buying a few steaks from the butcher's, and watching us hacking away at a dead deer!
I couldn't help laughing. They ain't squeamish, Sammy. They'll deal.
The kid narrowed his eyes. I could feel his powerful, exasperated glare even though I wasn't looking at him.
S'not what I meant and you know it! Sam retorted, and nipped me again.
Hey! Cut that out, hound! I snarled, then whirled, tackled the younger wolf to the forest floor and rolled him on to his back. Sam's soft underbelly was exposed, his huge paws up, body falling lax in submission.
Yeah right. Like I was gonna fall for that!
His eyes glowed with mischief, something I hadn't seen in way too long.
You make it so easy, Sammy. I turned my back and trotted off nonchalantly, but performed a secret count down in my head.
Five… four… three… oomph!
The air rushed out of my lungs when Sam barrelled into me from behind, knocking me down into a roll and finally planting himself on my stomach. His lazy grin, tongue hanging out the side of his chops, nearly made me laugh out loud, but I scowled instead, to keep the game going.
Perhaps it wasn't the right time for such playful antics, but I figured a couple more hours wouldn't hurt. It was nice to spend time, just the two of us, father and son, and I'm sure it's the real reason why Tobius stayed behind.
You'll never take me alive, Sam! I suddenly bucked upwards, throwing him off, and this time the look of comical surprise on his face had me roaring with laughter.
The youngster sprang to his paws, drawing himself up to his full impressive height, then slowly lowered his massive head. His eyes were fixed on me, watching my every movement as we circled each other one way, then the other.
You think so? His soft, smooth voice in my head made me grin. This was Sam trying to be intimidating, and had it been anyone else but me, it would've worked. I could take you down with one… er… paw!
Oh really? You sure about that? I feinted left but the kid was expecting the move, and darted out of reach. 'Cos I gotta tell ya, Sammy, I seen five year olds move faster.
You're trying to goad me, he growled softly, still playing the intimidation card. But it ain't working, Dean.
I snorted, reached up with a rear paw and scratched behind my left ear. Oh I think it is, Sammydawg. And you know what else?
What!? He bit out, the hated pet name striking up another spark of defiance.
I seen five year olds with more strength, too!
That did it. I spotted the very moment when I finally got his goat. His eyes flared with impatience, right before he leapt at me once more.
We rough housed for a little while longer, sparring, exchanging good natured insults, as we moved through the forest towards the river, bringing the play fight out into open. It ended with us both rolling on the river bank, our fur clumping up with slick dark mud, until we slumped, side by side, floating in the water on our backs.
The sun was warm on our faces, pleasantly heating our belly-fur, and the smell of wild flowers sweetened the air, wafting up our noses. Might as well make the most of it, huh? Peace was gonna be in short supply soon enough.
Hey, Dean?
Uhuh.
Can you imagine what we must look like? What if some hiker came by?
My lips curled up into a grin.
Yeah. S'not everyday you go for a nice relaxing stroll in the country, then come across a couple of muddy wolves sun bathing on the river.
Sam chuckled in my head. Probably wouldn't know whether to laugh or run!
I flicked my heavy water-laden tail at him, splashing water up his nose.
The kid spluttered and glared at me indignantly.
Hey!
Watcha gonna do 'bout it?
Last thing I saw before being shoved under water was Sam leaping high, all four paws spread out, jaws open wide, his angry battle howl disturbing the silence of the river.
It was my turn to splutter, but I eyed him with admiration when I finally surfaced.
Not bad kid. Wasn't expecting that.
The cocky young wolf was back with a vengeance, and I have to say that I couldn't have been happier.
Sam's smug grin was well practiced that morning. Being the bigger wolf, and believe me Sam's pretty damn huge himself, it fell to me to hunt down breakfast for the humans, whilst Sam caught a nice selection of trout.
An hour later, I rejoined Sam at the river, dragging an elderly stag with enormous antlers.
Sam grinned and shook himself violently, sending water drops all over me. I'd dried off by that point so I wasn't exactly amused at being drenched again.
Don't you worry, Sam. I dipped my head towards the fresh kill and gave out an exaggerated huff. I'll deal with this… you just sit there… I'll be fine… no no! I pointed out, petulantly, when he made a move to come help me. Just you relax and let me do all the work…
Sam rolled his eyes in amusement. Cute, Dean. Now shut up and let's get the food back to camp.
Bossy little shit.
Sure I am. Like father like son.
Smartass.
By the time we got back, Bobby and the Pastor were wide awake and sipping hot coffee from plastic mugs. I sniffed the air appreciatively.
The best caffeine-free java money could buy.
I sure could go for some of that right now.
Tobius, throwing another log on the fire, indicated two more mugs nearby. Help yourself. Courtesy of your Uncle Bobby.
Sire was eyeing us with amusement, mouth twitching at one corner. But when we turned back into human form, he roared with laughter. Bobby and Jim grinned broadly but said nothing.
"What on God's green earth have you two been up to?" Sire choked out.
Sam and I looked at each other. Dark streaks of drying mud clung to our bodies, flaking off in places, but the funniest was Sam's eyebrows and that thick head of shaggy hair.
Oh man!
"Dude, the mad professor look suits you," I grasped his shoulder, laughing. "Ya know, if they ever remake Back to the Future you could audition as the doc…"
Sam scowled. "Haha. That's real funny." He folded his long arms across his chest. "Just don't give up the night job, huh, Dean? Your stand-up routine sucks balls."
Pastor Jim choked on his coffee.
Sam! I admonished. Not in front of a man of the cloth, dude!
Oho! That's rich coming from you!
As a parent, I'm entitled to be a hypocrite. I've earned the right!
Even Tobius raised a sardonic eyebrow at that, whilst Sam shook his head, laughing, backed down and apologized to the priest.
Jim merely nodded, but he was obviously hiding a smile.
Sam's earlier worries were put to rest when Bobby and Jim helped to prepare breakfast. Without so much as batting an eyelid, they got to work on gutting and cleaning the deer, whilst Sire gathered more logs, and Sam got stuck into the trout.
My job was simple. I 'supervised'. Much to Sam's annoyance.
Hey! I'm the pack beta and bodyguard, ok? I don't do menial tasks. I watch for danger... and observe...
It turned out to be quite the feast, and the smell of cooked fish and venison lingered long after the meal was over.
And not a scrap went to waste. Bobby wrapped most of the remaining cooked venison in his sleeping bag to keep for snacks later on.
Yeah, that probably sounds gross to you guys, but we're wolves. Even with Sire's sophisticated training of our palette, we'll still pretty much eat anything.
In spite of the well earned rest, and the delicious food, we were no closer to coming up with a plan by the time the afternoon rolled by us, and turned into evening.
We were stumped.
"We could just set ourselves up here," Sam spoke up suddenly. "I mean, those kids'll find us eventually and I, for one, would rather have the showdown out here, than in some public place where an innocent bystander could get hurt."
I nodded, but frowned. "Have to say I agree. But I don't like the idea of letting them come here either." I glanced at Sire. "And if they do, they'll be coming all at once."
Tobius poked at the fire, looking worried and thoughtful. "Quite. Taking them all on wouldn't be wise." He gazed sharply at Sam. "But… letting them come to us, one by one… that could work. If Sam can harness those visions..."
I could see what he was driving at. The idea was to keep moving on as we had been, but using Sam's visions to find the special kids. Chances were, they were hunting alone, but as soon as one of them 'stumbled' on to us, no doubt he or she would call to the others, perhaps bringing this Meg-demon with them. So we would need to act quickly, take them out silently and with as little fuss as possible.
No one ever said this was gonna be easy, but shit!
Did it really have to be this hard?
Sam licked his lips, trying to hide how nervous he was.
"Uh… I can try. I mean, it's the only way we got of finding them," troubled eyes turned my way. "But I don't know how to control it. Supposing…" his voice trailed off.
"Supposing what, Sam?" I prodded his arm, gently.
"Supposing I get it wrong and it warns them," Sam's brow wrinkled into a deep frown. "What if by trying to find them it calls them all together? We'll be outnumbered and outgunned. We wouldn't stand a chance."
Our group fell quiet. We were back to square one again. And what a wonderfully familiar and above all frustrating place it was. Until...
"I might be able to help with that," Bobby's gruff voice broke the silence. "But we'll need to get back to the salvage yard."
That's a little risky given that Meg's already been there searching for us. I raised an eyebrow at Tobius.
Anything we do from now on is risky Sire replied. No matter where we go, there's a chance we'll be found before we're ready. At least at Bobby's yard, she's least likely to return… a sort of 'lightening never strikes in the same place twice' scenario if you will.
And it seemed that really was the best we could do.
"What do you have in mind?" Sam asked hesitantly.
"So far, you've only had visions." Bobby stared at him without flinching. "I want to put you in a devil's trap first off, just to see what else you can do. Then maybe I'll be able to help you control your abilities through hypnosis. But I'm warning ya, Sam. It's gonna hurt. Messin' 'bout with this kind of stuff always does."
Sam took a shaky breath and bit his lip, uncertainly. His anxious gaze sought mine.
"Why a devil's trap?" I asked, feeling more than a little unhappy with all this.
Pastor Jim sipped at his coffee and shrugged. "Standard practice for testing a psychic. The Eye of Solomon isn't just a trap for demons; it's also used to create a safe playground for practicing special gifts, such as TK, electrokinesis, and necromancy." He smiled at Sam. "The upshot is you can learn how to use your powers without attracting any unwanted attention."
In other words, a devil's trap not only incarcerates demons, but it also prevents them getting in and keeps their powers out. That sure was news to me, and judging by the look on Tobius' face it was also news to him.
Sire clicked his tongue, and glanced at Sam. Well? It's your call, boys. Personally, I think it's our only course of action thus far. But this has to be your decision, Sam. Subject to approval from your father. He smiled a little at that.
Sam nibbled ferociously on his bottom lip, making it bleed. Must've been feeling all kinds of hell right then.
I cupped his jaw, forcing the poor kid to look at me.
Stop that. My mind whispered, gently. I held up a blood stained finger. I'm not gonna make you do this if you don't feel comfortable, so stop fretting.
He sighed and closed his eyes. I know you won't.
Sam opened his eyes again when I grasped both his shoulders. Do you trust me, Sam?
You know I do. His immediate response sent a bolt of warmth and pride through me from head to toe.
Good boy. I rested my forehead against Sam's. You also know I love you, right?
He smiled. Yeah. Ditto. More than life itself.
But I felt his surprise on hearing that for the first time.
We never say it out loud. But that doesn't mean we could never say it.
We packed up and headed back to the car just before dawn. Bobby and Jim had hidden their truck off road behind a crop of pines, whilst the Impala was skilfully covered by a camouflage tarpaulin and some thick bushes.
It was a sign of the times, I guess. Never before had we needed to hide her up like that, especially out here, but we couldn't afford to take any chances.
When Sam climbed in the back, I joined him, much to his surprise.
Dude, aren't you driving?
Nah. I'll take my turn later. Now c'mon. Get some sleep, Sammy. I patted my knees.
The kid smiled gratefully. In spite of the few days break from the road, he was still sporting some impressive baggage beneath his eyes. Sam obediently slid down, until his head rested against the offside passenger window, and draped his large feet over my lap. Within seconds, his eyes closed and his breathing evened out.
Tobius winked at me before sliding behind the wheel.
Author's notes:
I know there's not been much action so far, but it is coming up I promise.
Thank you so much for all your support so far. Pretty sure you can gather how nervous I've been about this as a sequel.
Again, I apologize for the formating. This site won't let me introduce scene breaks. I think there's some kind of secret society behind it....
Although I'm behind in the show's episodes, and I'm avoiding spoilers as far as possible – I just watched Abandon All Hope for the first time – I am aware of how despondent you all feel at the moment, and I hope that this fic helps to cheer you up a little. It won't be all sunshine and roses, as you can tell from Dean's journal entries, but I can assure you that no matter what happens Sam and Dean will remain absolute hunting partners, brothers, and son and father throughout this story.
Kind regards,
ST x
