Hunter of the Shadows Book 2:

Hunter Rising.

Chapter 20

Now…

Contrary to his wishes in the last entry, Sam is back in human form, sitting in front of the fire and leaning against Dean.

Tobius sits silently nearby, hands at the back of his head. One gets the feeling from his casual countenance that he is merely there to listen, not interfere.

Sam no longer wears the shades, so his human eyes shine silver in the firelight. It's a little strange looking, but not unpleasant.

"I know you still hate that I ran off, but I had to Dean," he whispers, sadly. "I didn't want to leave you, but I didn't have a choice. Azazel got so mad when Andy was turned, I was scared he would carry out his threat and kill everyone I love. I just couldn't risk it."

Dean heaves a sigh, eyes bright and moist with tears. "I know. I mean, I get it, but…" he rubs at the bridge of his nose, as though overwhelmed. "It was too great a risk. We almost lost you, Sammy!"

They both sit there in deep thought, and the fire crackles playfully among the logs. Every now and then, a spark flies up, dances on the night time breeze for a second or two, then disappears skywards.

"Nah," Sam suddenly decides. "You wouldn't have lost me. Take a lot more than that to get rid of your pain-in-the-ass little brotherson."

Dean huffs out a gentle laugh. "Maybe. But… just don't do it again." He pauses before adding, deadpan: "Ya little shit."

Sam snorts with laughter.

Then…

So, his list of special skills currently stood at TK, visions, exorcisms, and, now, relocation. And that last one? When Sam explained how he figured it out, he made it sound all so damn easy, like a walk in the park.

"Yeah, I just thought about it for a while, and then realized all I had to do was change the way I used my TK. It's so simple it's embarrassing…" and babbled on about some guy called Einstein, who had a theory about his relatives, and Newton, who apparently at some stage had an apple land on his head, which must have scrambled his brains a little 'cos the guy just made no sense after that.

(After all, how can you invent gravity? It just exists right?)

So, yeah, simple.

Just not so much to me, and even Sire looked somewhat perplexed by it all, but…

Well.

Let's just say, after everything he went through to get us here? No wonder Bobby was looking a little pissed.

"Looks like Sammy's mojo trumps your magic ace, Bobby." I grinned broadly in the face of his ire. "Gettin' a little rusty there, ol'man?"

Bobby glared back at me. "Just you watch your tongue, boy!" he growled. "One wave of my hand and you'll be hopping around on lily pads for the next month!"

I gulped, the smile dropped from my face like a heavy stone, and I steadfastly ignored the soft sniggering from the others. Sometimes I forget just what the guy's capable off.

We crept on through the graveyard, glancing at various markers and keeping an ear out for trouble, though we didn't really need to bother. Trouble was sure to find us sooner or later.

A large ugly old tree loomed up ahead. Tall and gnarled with twisting tangled limbs, it could've been several hundred years old, and if it could speak, telling all it had seen throughout its' life?

I probably would've been bored to tears.

Sam and Pastor Jim, however, could always be counted upon. They walked round it several times, as though it held some significance.

"This is new," Sam glanced at me, obviously worried. "I mean, I haven't been this far into the cemetery 'til now.".

"Hmm," said the priest, thoughtfully. "Take a look at that branch, the one separate from all the others?"

Sam squinted up. "Huh. Been pruned especially. And it's got a groove worn half way along, like…" he turned to Jim. "Like it was used as a gallows. This is a hangman's tree, right?"

I shrugged when the Pastor nodded.

"I assume most if not all of its victims are buried here?" I asked.

"Most likely in pieces," Sire pointed out. "The murderers in particular were often hung, drawn and quartered, sometimes buried closest to the tree so the roots would grow around them over the years, making sure their souls can never rise again."

"So this is like... the Tree of the Dead, or somethin'?" I mused out loud, then thought about it for a second. "That's pretty gross."

Andy puffed out a sigh and rubbed his large furry head against a gravestone.

You ok there? I inquired, happy for the change of subject.

The werebear groaned in appreciation. Yeah. Had an itch between my ears… oh man! This is… ouch! Damn! It won't let up… what the hell?

Andy, what's wrong? Sam began shifting from foot to foot, anxiously. But when he reached up with a shaking hand and pinched the bridge of his nose, I knew something was wrong.

Andy? Are you feeling what I'm feeling? Sam asked, still rubbing his head.

Yeah. Huh. S'weird. Like being pulled at by a magn… aagghhhh!

Andy didn't get a chance to finish his sentence because he was soaring through the air and colliding head first with a grave marker. He sat up and shook his head, eyes dazed and scared.

Wha…?

A sound like stone scraping on stone way off to our right had him scrambling up and lumbering over to us.

Like the best trained continuity drill squad, we closed ranks in a circle around Sam, facing outwards, weapons at the ready. Sam sank to his knees, fingers tips now massaging his temples and eyes screwed tightly shut.

Sammy? I kept my gaze ahead, sweeping the ground for trouble, occasionally looking back at him over my shoulder. What's goin' on? What are you doing?

He remained silent for so long my anxiety levels, already pounding their way upwards, took a giant leap.

Sam! Answer me!

I risked another quick glance over my shoulder, dreading what I might see, but to my relief he was standing back up at full height, eyes glowing fiercely.

I'm ok. Just running a scan of the area. We're surrounded, by the way.

I heard Sire muttering in the background, presumably translating our thought projections for the sake of Bobby and the Pastor. But when Sam delivered the bad news, Tobius paused for just an instant then relayed it onwards.

Surrounded by what? I asked,

Take your pick. Witches, demons, Jake…

Shit!

Yeah. Kinda thought you'd say that.

How many?

Sam paused then answered. You want this sugar coated?

Sugar coating always works for me.

Hundreds.

Weapon slightly lowered, I turned my upper body to fix him with a glare.

That's your idea of sugar coating?

Sam just shrugged. Ok. Try this: how long's a piece of string?

Huh. That many? Really?

Really.

I puffed out my cheeks. Our kind of odds.

Sam smiled and nodded. Yeah.

Sire's hand gripped my shoulder. "Remember what I told you before you met the Home pack. You and Sam come first.

"Father…"

"I mean it!" Tobius growled, suddenly shoving his face right into mine. "When the shit hits the fan, we'll punch a hole in their defences and you'll get yourselves as far away as possible. Leave this to us, if you can. Go to the Home pack. Lucas and Victoria will take care of you both and keep you safe."

I had a lot to say about that, but not nearly as much as Sam. The kid stalked towards us, mouth set in a grim line and fists clenched at his sides.

"No." Sam's voice was deceptively calm, as though his body was absorbing all the frustration and anger, leaving the mind free to handle all the heavy emotional stuff. "I can't keep running."

He shot me a look tinged with both determination and regret. "We can't keep running from this. It must end tonight. I won't live my life in hiding. This…" Sam turned in a circle, hands out as though encompassing the entire world, until he faced us again, eyes now hard but voice still soft. "This is what we do. We've hunted the shadows all our lives, and now the shadows are hunting us. We stand and fight. There are no options left."

The steadily growing lump in my throat damn near blocked my wind pipe by the time he finished his little speech. Everyone present was stunned into silence and stood there, just staring at their shoes. No one was going to deny it. Sam was right. We couldn't go on like this, jumping through Azazel's hoops and running into Jake, only to be force-fed our own asses.

Jake had to go. He was too dangerous to be left in the game, for humans, vampires and weres alike. Big question was: could we take him down?

And the answer to that was so simple and, at the same time, oh so complicated:

If we had to, we'd die trying.

But, at that point, I'd been sure.

I would take him on.

I swallowed with difficulty. "Ok then. Let's do this."

The circle broke temporarily to allow to Sam to take his place between Sire and me. Tobius blinked a few times, then grasped the nape of Sam's neck and nodded, squeezing gently. He cast a shaky smile my way, and I knew what he was saying without hearing the words.

I've always been proud of you both, but never more so than tonight.

"Well," Bobby groused. "Maybe I can turn a few of 'em into mice, or somethin', but I've a feeling they'll be plenty powerful."

In other words, too much for him.

"We'll just have to do the best we can," Pastor Jim replied, quietly.

I only just caught the sad grin the two men shared before they turned back to their task.

Andy just snorted and tossed his head, eyes narrowed with anger.

Another scraping noise and we all felt a sudden intense wave trying to yank us off our feet, but something was holding us in place, protecting and buffering at the same time.

I knew who it was, could see him out the corner of my eye.

Sam was at work, one hand out stretched, head slightly lowered. His eyes were glowing so powerfully it almost hurt to look at him, and the bands around his irises were thick and dense. Seeing him like this gave my faltering faith a good solid kick up the ass. Sammy didn't need weapons. At least, not like the ones the rest of us carried.

He was a weapon in his own right.

I almost pitied Jake Tally right then.

We heard a rustling from around thirty, may be forty meters away, faint at first but growing louder. As we squinted into the gloom it was possible to make out moving shapes, getting closer, the shadows slowly peeling away to reveal the collective faces of our enemy.

They stood, silent and grinning. Around twenty upfront and God knew how many lining up behind. As Sam told us, had to be hundreds of possessed Wiccans here, all with powers supercharged by their demonic hitchhikers.

"Don't make a move," Tobius barked out. "Let them come to us."

Another wave swept forward, but faded out around ten meters away with a screech like a banshee.

Sam was effortlessly shielding us, but for how long? Surely the demons would get the message soon and try some other tactic…

Typical.

Just as I was thinking it, the fireballs started, and Sam wasn't fast enough to readjust his shield. Andy yelped in pain as the fur on his left leg caught fire. He hopped around cursing on the inside and roaring on the outside.

Sonofafuckingcocksuckingwhore!

Never would have guessed he knew language that colourful. Pastor Jim struggled out of his coat and tried to wrap it around the flailing bear's leg.

"For goodness sake, child! Stand still!"

Good job he couldn't hear what we heard. Even Tobius looked a little surprised, and nothing ever seems to shock him.

Fireballs were suddenly zipping all round and over us, we ducked and dodged as best we could without actually giving ground, but pretty soon we were gonna have to make a move of our own.

One fireball, bigger and brighter than the rest zoomed up into the night sky like a shooting star, hovered there for a moment, then dived abruptly, aiming for a completely clueless Sam who was still struggling to power up our shields.

I barrelled into the kid, knocking him to the ground. Sam stared up at me, eyes widening with fear.

"Dean!"

I turned my head, and saw the fireball heading straight for me, could feel the scorching heat as it plummeted down.

Sam must've got his mojo working again 'cos in the split second before it was supposed to hit, the fireball seemed to bounce on an invisible trampoline and shot off at right angles. Moments later came the sound of yelling and screaming, and we glanced over towards the enemy lines to be greeted with the sight of several demon-possessed witches up in flames. Some were already on the ground and unmoving, but others were still choking out great clouds of black vapour, the demons desperate to escape their burning meat suits.

The smell of charred human flesh and caramelized blood permeated the air, tweaked the nose of our inner wolf, and ignited hunger in our bellies.

Sam and I grinned at each other as I helped him to his feet, and Tobius stood beside us.

"Nice work, lads," Sire's eyes glowed, body tense with excitement and the battle to come. "Now," he nodded towards the enemy, already regrouping after Sam's returning volley. "Looks like we haven't quite annoyed them enough."

It was his way of saying that though we were surrounded, the battle still had some ground to forge.

Jim and Bobby, now that Andy was no longer en flambé, pulled the grumbling bear back to our circle.

"Right," Tobius glanced up at the sky, just as more fireballs were launched upwards, trajectory clear cut when they reached their zenith and dropped, bearing down on us. "Sam, can you hold them off for long, pup?"

Sam nodded grimly. "Yep. They make it too easy."

Tobius nodded, urgently. "Then we will follow. Just tell us what you need."

Sam stood still, head raised, and I could almost make out a faint glow in the air above our heads, like a tightly stretched net.

We didn't need much telling, as it turned out.

The fireballs bounced off harmlessly, as did the next volley, and smashed more holes in the enemy front lines. Others were lined up to take the place of their downed and injured, however, but low level demons are pretty stupid and the fireballs kept on coming.

"Right! Everyone tighten the circle around Sam. The demons may try to advance on him once they realize what he can do. We can't allow them to get that close." Tobius checked his weapon once more. "Iron rounds. Single, timed head or heart shots, gentlemen. We must spare the ammunition so make each one count. Pick a target and take it down."

As a knight in the midst of battle, he got down on one knee, and we all followed suit.

"Stand to ready!"

There were several clunks and clicks as weapons were primed, cocked and safety catches were checked.

"Take aim!" Tobius voice grew louder and more regimented with each syllable and I felt a thrill of excitement run down my spine.

This is what it's like to hunt alongside Tobius Le Salle, but now, on the battle field, with no idea who would be the victor or even if we'd survive, it was twice the rush.

We might go down, but not without a fight.

One eye closed, my target chosen – a guy with jet black hair to match his eyes – I held my breath, finger on the trigger. The screams of pain as Sam diverted more fireballs away from us faded into the background, and my vision tunnelled.

"Fire!"

Rounds left barrels with a single perfect loud retort, and less than a second later a flock of demons fell, twitching and streaming black smoke from their hosts' mouths.

"Stand to ready!" Tobius roared again, barely giving us time to rejoice in our triumph.

"Take aim!"

One moment that I will always remember:

A fireball zoomed in on Tobius on a horizontal arch but he didn't even flinch, just stared down the barrel of his weapon, eyes hard and narrowed.

It deflected off Sam's shield and whooshed straight back at its owner, a now majorly pissed off looking demon whose mouth dropped open in shock, right before the fireball slammed into it, knocking it and several others down in a frenzy of flames.

Without missing a beat, Tobius yelled: "Fire!"

More demons smoked out, leaving their now panicking colleagues to face the music.

It was deafening, the air filled with the roar and whoosh of fireballs, screaming demons and gunshots.

Volley after volley took out many more of the enemy, until Bobby announced that he was out of ammunition, quickly followed by Pastor Jim.

Tobius swept up his backpack and threw it to them.

"Change to salt rounds," he yelled back. "There's plenty in there. It should slow them down, with a bit of luck."

I had already swapped over and watched with sick satisfaction as another demon took a blast of rock salt to the face. It gurgled and wailed, spitting out the offending salt, but wasted no more time dallying with me. Wriggling free of its meat suit, the sooty black waves headed up and out.

I got the feeling these guys weren't really trying all that hard, abandoning their host at the slightest sting, but then as low level demons maybe they didn't have all that much to work with.

Dean. He's here… Sam called out to me. Azazel.

Talk about bad timing

At once, the demonic frontline stopped firing at us and fell still and silent, black eyes gleaming like beetles in the firelight. There were small fires here and there, where a patch of grass had gone up, or a bush had ignited. Funny how that ugly assed tree was still untouched, not a mark on it.

Occasionally, we could hear the shift and shuffle as one or two at the back tried to see over the shoulders of their colleagues.

"Hold your fire!" ordered Tobius, one hand raised and lowered his voice to an almost whisper. "Let's see what they'll do next."

"I don't think that's such a good idea," Sam whispered back. "They're waiting for something. An order…" he shook his head and snarled angrily. "His order!"

Before we could stop him, Sam strode out of our protective circle, came to a halt and stared round at the demon hoards.

Sammy, what the hell are you doing? I yelped, watching as he raised both hands, feet shoulder width apart, and blood poured from his nose.

He didn't answer me, didn't need to.

We could all see for ourselves what he was doing by now.

The several hundred wiccans left were suddenly writhing and choking on their demonic parasites, and the air filled with dense black clouds. With a loud collective death rattle, every single suit slumped, and the ground and surrounding gravestones were littered with human bodies as far as the eye could see.

In the silence that followed, someone started clapping, slowly and methodically. It wasn't meant to compliment, just the opposite. It was dripping with sarcasm, and we all looked at each other, apprehensively.

"This can't be good," I muttered out loud.

Footsteps grew closer until they stopped just behind the fallen bodies.

It wasn't Azazel.

"Nice work, Sam," Jake grinned, evilly. "You've really stepped up. Now, let's see what else you can do…"

He waved an arm, sending Sam flying backwards into grave marker. His back hit the stone wrenching a groan from his mouth, eyes rolling dazedly in their sockets.

"Sammy?" I tried to reach him, but was soon violently fused to my own rock and shaking the fuzz from my aching head. A series of small, familiar gasps and thumps followed, and I looked around through pained eyes to find we'd all been had, Tobius included. Unfortunately, from what I could gather, the impact had rendered Jim and Bobby unconscious. Andy just hung there in a daze – he wasn't gonna be using his circle of terror any time soon, poor kid.

Jake laughed; a cruel, humourless sound that echoed off the gravestones.

"C'mon, Sam," Jake almost pouted. "I know you can do better than that…"

He broke off when a large rock was wrenched out of the ground and flung at him, knocking the guy down.

Sam rolled to his feet and glared at the fallen ex-soldier. His eyes were clear again, the knock to the head having worn off instantly.

"Sure I can, and so much more…"

His hand formed a fist and punched the air. Jake grunted in pain and fell back down again, clutching his gut.

"Wanna see what else?" Sam struck the air again and smiled when his opponent jerked and gasped for air. He'd taken a hit to the solar plexus and another to the groin. Apparently, Sam fights dirty when he's pissed.

Attaboy.

I struggled against the invisible bonds but couldn't get free.

Take it easy, Sam whispered. You'll only hurt yourself. He's powerful and won't let you go until he's unconscious or dead. He drew himself up to his full height. I'd rather it be the former option, but that all depends on him…

Jake lashed out with a blast wave that had Sam stumbling back a few feet, but he quickly recovered with a blast of his own. Jake, still on the ground and presumably still hurting from the punch to the family jewels, groaned, rolled and hid behind a huge gravestone.

Sam countered the move with a flick of his wrist, and the rock gave out a sharp crack before lifting up, hovering for a few seconds above Jake's head, then plummeting down.

Jake nearly managed to scramble free but the heavy stone caught him on the shoulder. Any normal person would have suffered a broken shoulder at the very least, a crushed upper torso at worst, but Jake just slammed the injured appendage up against another rock, screamed in agony as he reset the bone and rolled his head a little, as though getting comfortable again.

Sam was heaving in great breaths, more blood trickling from his nose. Remembering the digger in Bobby's salvage yard, and what it cost him to try and move it, I figured that must've taken one hell of an effort.

"Sam?" I called out, voice hoarsely. "You ok?"

"I'll live," was Sam's only answer, succinct and to the point.

I took the hint and shut the hell up. He needed to concentrate. There was nothing any of us could do for him right now. This was all on Sam's shoulders, and my heart pounded with fear for his safety.

Jake slowly turned around, his gaze on Sam, critical and assessing.

"My, my. Doggy sure has learned some new Jedi mind tricks," he drawled.

Sam showed his usual appreciation for that level of sarcasm by sending the bastard flying across several graves, making good and sure to smash Jake's head into each and every rock in his path.

I hoped it would work, knocking him out and setting us free, but Jake just staggered unsteadily to his feet with that ever annoying grin.

Shit! This guy can really take some punishment. I observed, trying not to panic.

Indeed! Tobius breathed out. He obviously hadn't paid attention to Sam's advice and was still struggling to free himself. And I'm sure Azazel is enjoying the show.

You really think he's here? I asked, frowning.

Not only do I think he's here, Tobius snorted, indignantly, but I also believe that he orchestrated this entire farce.

I nodded, sourly. So the demons double crossed us after all. What a shocker.

Don't take it to heart, Sire offered, just as he made one last bid for freedom, and slumped against his rock in defeat. To be honest, I'm not sure a different decision would have made much of a difference to the outcome. I think we'd still have ended up here.

I winced when Sam was suddenly lifted up and slam-dunked across a flat grave marker.

He cried out in pain and rolled off, breathing heavily and shaking his head.

Sam…

I'm ok. Just need a sec…

Jake wasn't going to give him that second, and swiped Sam backwards. The kid's head bounced harshly against the rock, and again, and again until I felt sure Sam's brains were gonna be mush.

Blood running into his eyes and panting through the pain, Sam once again clambered to his feet. His mouth twisted in rage, and I just knew what was coming couldn't be good. He shoved his left hand palm outwards, and Jake gasped, eyes bulging wide.

Sam's shaking fingers curled in and twisted, his head tilting to the side.

It was the first real fear Jake had revealed since the show down began. He clawed at his throat, mouth gaping open, choking, and sinking to his knees.

Sam breathed heavily through his bloodied nose. I could see the indecision on his face. He didn't want to kill Jake, that much was obvious, but he had little choice. Just when I thought he'd come to the same conclusion, he relaxed his grip and Jake fell forward onto the grass, rubbing his neck and greedily sucking in air.

"I never wanted any of this," Sam shook his head, sadly. "To become a duke of hell, hold a seat of power… no, man. That's not for me. I just wanted to be left alone with my pack, but you just couldn't resist, huh?"

Jake sneered. "Can't be the best without proof," he grimaced and stood up, eyes dark and filled with a terrible omen of what was to come. "And killing you? Azazel's little pet? That's all the proof he needs that I am better than you, that only I am worthy. That seat will be mine."

Jake launched himself at Sam, bringing them both down in a jumble of limbs.

It was fast, hard and bloody, and all I could see was a blur of fists and hear flesh smacking on flesh. From what I could make out, Sam performed a partial change, claws lengthening, slashing and gouging great chunks out of Jake's flesh.

Jake roared in pain and retaliated by pushing upwards and forcing Sam away to a safe distance.

They stood, squared off, but Sam... only Sam... my compassionate son... would offer a way out:

"It's all yours," Sam replied, sounding tired and broken. "If it means that much to you. I won't fight you any longer, 'cos it's just not worth it." His eyes gleamed with sadness. "Don't you think we've all been through enough?"

That seemed to cause Jake some momentary confusion, and he appeared to back down.

But the instant Sam turned his back, I knew it was a mistake.

Jake unsheathed a gleaming silver short sword – the sword - from a cloth wrapped scabbard inside his jacket pocket, and lunged.

"Sammy, look out!"

Sam swung round just in time to greet the sword coming the other way.

"Noooooo!" I went wild, straining and gasping against my rock.

"Oh my God!" I heard Tobius cry out in anguish.

The sword swung upwards and plunged into Sam's sternum, his body jerking and shuddering, impaled on the blade. He just hung there, staring hopelessly into Jake's eyes, blood dripping from his mouth.

I was frozen, numb, even, for a few long moments, until I saw Jake whisper something to Sam.

I read his lips.

'I win'

Author's notes.

So here it is,

Sammy... poor baby...

Sorry I haven't done the review replies, but life turned hectic on me.

I thought you'd rather the epic battle chapter instead!

Also note that by attempting to explain the origins of Jake's blade, I'm doing what Kripke hasn't so far: Ruby's knife was never fully exposed.

It might be a bullshit story line for it, but at least I have one! That's more than he can say at this stage.

Cheers my loves.

ST xxx