Hunter of the Shadows Book 2:

Hunter Rising.

Chapter 21

Now…

Sam's head is resting on Dean's shoulder but he's awake, silver eyes glinting in the light of the campfire. Tobius is sitting by quietly, poking at the fire with a stick.

The atmosphere is tense and awkward, as though the small pack were only now able to digest all that had happened.

Dean glances at the camera. "That was essentially it, the injury to beat all injuries," he hangs his head and shudders. "It was bad, really, really bad…"

Then…

'I win'

That was it for me. Bulging muscles rippled and my clothes tore apart, more or less just falling away.

Jake gave the blade a gleeful twist and forced it upwards. Sam jerked violently again, blood free falling from his mouth and choking him.

When his eyes slid shut, I howled madly, homing in on Jake and somehow I was breaking free of his hold over me.

Jake grinned and callously dropped Sam to the ground, stood back and raised the sword.

The good news? If the source of silver was removed quickly enough, Sam would be ok. So Jake obviously intended to have a little more fun at our expense.

"Come and get me, wolfman."

I was only too eager to oblige. Growling and circling the guy, deep down I knew this was a bad time to be fighting him. I wasn't thinking straight, Sam needed me…

But behind Jake, Sam's eyes were open again, tired and blood shot, the pupils bearing a sheen of silver.

That wasn't good news. What the hell happened? Why wasn't he healing? Why were his eyes clouding over…?

Then I saw the reason for Jake's infernal smugness: the broken edge of Jake's precious sword. A small piece, maybe a couple of inches long, had snapped off, probably inside of Sam.

No! Sire…

I glanced over to where everyone else was still pinned helplessly to their rocks. Tobius was watching in despair.

I know. Just get that damn sword away from Jake and finish the bastard off once and for all so we can help Sam!

That was going to be easier said than done.

Dean… Sam was lying on his side, squinting at me through half closed, silver tinted eyes.

Just take it easy, kiddo. You'll be fine. Just don't move… Sammy I said don't move for fuck sake!

Sam pulled himself up, gritting his teeth in agony but kept his movements quiet.

Once he was swaying on his feet, clutching at his chest, Sam nodded.

I hated this, but I guessed what he was up to.

I growled softly, and lunged at Jake. The guy dodged nicely, and swung the short sword at me. Quickly lifting my front paws and balancing on my hind quarters, the deadly blade just missed my gut. It turned the manoeuvre into another lunge then changed direction at the last second, much to Jake's annoyed surprise.

"Nice move," he murmured, in grudging admiration, whirling the sword effortlessly.

I answered by hunkering down into a crouch, then sprang forward, paws aiming for Jake's chest. In that same moment, the sword flew backwards out of Jake's loosened grip and straight into Sam's, who didn't hesitate, and thrust the blade deep into Jake's back just over his heart.

Another swift thrust and Jake collapse in a gurgle of blood. The death throes didn't last longer than it took for Sam to drop the sword and fall to his knees, gasping for breath, head lolling on his neck. After a fast and painful change, I caught him up in my arms and tilted his head back to check his eyes.

They were completely blank, the entire pupil silvered out and even covering the black bands around the irises.

Sammy, can you hear me?

Nothing. Sam was beyond communicating by now.

Tobius sprang free first, and sprinted over to us.

I had no idea what Bobby, Pastor Jim and Andy were doing, and no offence to them but I sure didn't care.

Sam's dying, Sire. I can't reach him.

Tobius didn't say a word, just yanked the sword out of Jake's lifeless body and quickly studied it, eyes roving over the broken part of the blade. He nodded to himself.

"Right," he said, voice curt and to the point. "You're not going to like what I'm about to do, but…"

Sire suddenly whirled round, sword raised. "What do you want? Or do I even need to guess?"

Yellow eyes gleamed in the darkness behind us, and Azazel's mouth twisted in a weird evil parody of friendship.

"You know I can still help Sam," he said, softly, and held out a strange looking horn handled knife with a jagged blade. "It's not too late."

He drew the blade across his wrist, allowing blood to well up and drip down his arm. The demon's skin crackled with electricity along the path of the knife, and I understood this was yet another blade forged with a special purpose, probably made in the same manner as Jake's sword.

"It'll save him," Yellow Eyes coaxed, almost gently.

Oh yeah. Azazel was still after Sam, alright.

Truth be told, I was more than tempted, especially when Sam coughed weakly and blood spilled over his chin, giving his shirt another soaking.

Azazel stared down at me, smiling, offering Sam's salvation in the form of a torn and bloodied wrist, offering Sam's very life.

Despair and heartbreak was about to force my hand. I was going to make a very stupid, and I mean dumbfuckstupid, decision.

"Sire," I began, sounding a little rough. My throat was raw from fighting back the tears. "May be we should…"

"No!" Tobius snapped out, eyes narrowed with contempt at the demon. "You've already over played your hand once, Azazel. We just didn't see it for what it was at the time. But you're making it so damn obvious now."

The demon shrugged as if he could care less. Which was about right. What did he care? He had us exactly where he wanted us, and knew it.

Except...

"You see, my theory is this," Sire continued, watching the demon's face carefully. "If Sam drinks demon blood, not only will he be fair game for you, but he'll also lose his werewolf status and revert back to human."

I truly hadn't thought of that, but it made sense. However, Sam was still dying…

"I can always turn him again," I begged him, desperately. "Sire, please…"

"I don't think so, Dean," he replied, not taking his eyes off the demon, as though he expected him to pull a fast one. "With fresh demon blood in him, I suspect it won't be that simple. This was a set up right from the get go, although I doubt Meg, Jake or any of the other special children knew that. Your original plan was to pitch them all against each other, whittling out the weakest one by one, and letting the victor claim the trophy, whatever that's supposed to be. But with Dean turning Sam into a werewolf, you had to alter that plan slightly, am I right?" he asked of the demon with a raised eyebrow. "Because he was no longer under your control."

Azazel grinned. "Nicely thought out."

I had to add my own two cense worth. "So that's what this was all about? To force us into giving Sam demon blood in order to save his life? Boy!" I shook my head, feeling utterly disheartened. "You sure counted on a hell of a lot going your way!"

"Not really." Azazel answered, sounding bored, and casually glanced at his wrist watch. I just watched and learned. The actions of all players were accurately predicted. You just fell into my lap. Now, Sam doesn't have much time left. What's it to be?"

I held Sam tightly in my arms, kept my eyes on the demon but directed my question at Tobius. "Can you save him?"

Sire's gaze flickered uncertainly between us and Azazel. "I can try. We don't know how deep the sword splinter went."

The demon shifted, growing impatient. "You don't have a choice. I won't hurt the kid! You both won fair and square, and with some mighty impressive moves I should add."

"Forget it!" I snapped back. "Sire…"

But when Tobius made a move towards us he faltered with an angry growl, as though something was pulling at him, and at the same time I felt a tugging in my gut. The demon was trying to drag us away from Sam, but seemed to be having a hard time of it.

A glance at Azazel revealed his inner struggle to control us. Someone was fighting him.

Dean…Sam's voice came through, though it was faint and breathless with pain. G-go… I c-can h-hold him off 'til it's o-over… g-go... get away…

Sammy? You with me?

How the hell he was holding on amazed me.

G-go… get the others to safety…

No way! I'm not leaving you here. That bastard will force his blood down your throat.

S-silver's almost there… I c-can h-hold him off 'til it's too late…

In other words, once the silver was in his heart...

Self-sacrificing little bastard! As if I would even consider leaving him here to die alone.

Forget it! Sire's gonna get that shard out of you, so you'd better damned well hang on, you hearing me? Sammy?

Either he'd lost consciousness completely, or he was ignoring me.

Azazel growled angrily and tried to move towards us, but bumped painfully up against some kind of barrier.

Huh. I guess Sam was ignoring me, then.

"Dean, hold him down," Sire kneeled besides us. "This is going to hurt."

Without any further hesitation, Sire plunged his hands deep into Sam's wound, desperately feeling around, trying to find the silver shard before it was too late.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up into the weary gaze of Bobby singer.

"He's gonna be fine, Dean."

I just nodded. "Yeah. He'd better be."

"In the mean time, you two just worry about getting that silver out," Pastor Jim murmured without turning his head. "We'll keep an eye on the yellow eyed grump over there."

Pastor Jim and Andy were both watching the demon. Azazel was pacing in frustration, hands jammed into his jean pockets and yellow eyes ablaze, no doubt trying to figure out a way pass Sam's protection. Guess that's why he was furious. It was never Jake he had to fear, as it turned out. Sure, Jake grew far more powerful than he should have, but Azazel's real nemesis, it seemed, lay in my arms bleeding out and slowly dying of silver poisoning. Even hovering on the brink of death, Sam was still learning how to wield his powers.

And that's when it hit me. Sam as a human would have been far easier to deal with and manipulate. One of my problems with this whole 'wanting Sam back' issue was why was it such a big deal that he was a werewolf?

I had the answer staring me right in the face. The werewolf status had upped the power behind Sam's abilities, making him that much more dangerous. The trouble a demon faces when training a protégé, and ultimately gaining a student to show off to all the other demons, is trying to make sure said student doesn't turn out to be more powerful than you. It's too easy in the demon world for others to turn and, quite literally, stab you in the back, so it helps to have someone on your side that's skilled but loyal, merely because you hold the more power.

Demon politics. Gotta love it, huh?

"Dean, hold him tighter," Tobius called out.

Sam was squirming weakly in my arms, choking and barely breathing.

I caught the flash of tears in Sire's eyes and nearly lost my cool right there and then.

Tobius clenched his jaw. "I… I can't find it," he raised fearful eyes to meet mine. "There's nothing else for it, son. I'll have to cut open his chest. It's Sam's last chance."

I stared at him in shock, unable to utter a word. Bobby didn't hesitate, just handed over his steel hunting knife.

"What ya waiting for?" Bobby muttered, nervously. "Just get on with it!"

Nodding his thanks, Sire turned back to his gruesome task.

He deftly wielded the knife, cutting Sam's sodden shirt away, then wasted no more time slicing deep into the kid's chest.

Sam moaned in pain, mouth falling open, air wheezing and gurgling in and out with each shallow breath.

"Easy Sammy," I whispered into his ear. His brows scrunched as though he'd heard me. "I'm right here, kiddo. I'll keep you safe. Just hold on now; it'll all be over soon."

Sire swiped a hand over his forehead, smearing it with Sam's blood, and licked his lips.

"Dean, I really wouldn't look if I were you," he whispered. "Just concentrate on your son. He's going to need you."

"What are you gonna do?" I whispered back.

He didn't answer me but, with a hard look of resolve on his face, Sire reached in and cracked open Sam's rib cage!

"Holy shit!" I yelped when Sam bucked in my arms and screamed so loud I was tempted to cover my ears. I vaguely noted that Andy, Jim and Bobby had done just that, but I couldn't really pay that much attention, 'cos Tobius was revealing the shiny slither of the silver sword, sitting just alongside Sam's heart.

I gulped in fear. How the hell Sam had gotten away with it was anyone's guess, but the shard hadn't pierced the cardiac muscle. It was right on the edge, touching the swiftly pumping heart, but hadn't made so much as a scratch.

"Jesus Christ!" Bobby exclaimed when Sam's cries faded away to whimpering, and sat down next to us with a hefty thump. "Never seen anything like it!"

Tobius drew back and glanced at me with a soft smile. "He's really quite something."

"Yeah, he sure is," I replied with a returning smile, and pressed a firm kiss to the side of Sammy's head.

Sam was holding the shard at bay. Jake had intended to kill him outright, but Sam had stopped him just shy of completing his task, at the same time letting Jake believe he'd succeeded.

It was a phenomenal triumph. By taking on Jake, I'd created the distraction allowing Sam to TK the sword away from its creator. Jake, judging by the look on his face when he glanced down and saw the blade protruding from his chest, hadn't been too impressed to have his own weapon turned on him.

But, by then, it was all over.

"Ok," Sire breathed out slowly. "I'm going to take this nice and slow. We can't risk it piercing his heart."

We were all holding our breath when Sire reached in and gently touched the silver, preparing to slowly slide it out. The guy didn't hiss or complain once, but I could smell the scent of burning flesh when the silver came into contact with Sire's skin.

The angle was awkward and dangerous from what little I could see. The shard had to be worked upwards and outwards; one false move at this stage…

It was the worst timing in the world. Blood must've backed up in one of Sam's heaving lungs because he suddenly choked violently. Before Tobius could stop it, the movement worked the shard deeper in the wrong direction, and nicked Sam's heart.

The effect was instant. Sam convulsed briefly and fell headlong into a cardiac arrhythmia.

I was shouting something, not sure what, and can't really remember. I think I was on the verge of joining him in the heart attack stakes.

Tobius, figuring it was better late than never, yanked out the shard and tossed it away, but it was too late. Sam's heart had stopped altogether, and his body slumped lifeless in my arms.

"Oh shit, Sammy!" I cried out, and the world spun a complete revolution in that one painful moment. "Nononono…"

Tobius didn't say a word, just kept his cool, placed his hands around the deathly still organ, and began open heart massage.

Unfortunately, that meant Azazel was free.

The bastard jumped me, pulling me away and trying to force his bleeding arm into Sam's mouth. With a long, loud, angry growl, Andy sideswiped the demon, buying me just enough time to take up the sword, before he, Bobby and Pastor Jim were once again pinned in place against the rocks.

Sire cast a desperate glance my way. I can keep his heart pumping for a little while, Dean, but he's running out of time. He needs to breathe.

I was kind of surprised Tobius hadn't been pinned too, but then he had his hands buried deep in Sam's chest. Azazel wanted the kid alive to drink his blood, and sweeping Tobius aside wouldn't have achieved that. Sam would have been lost to us all.

Nodding, and understanding Sire's urgent message, I faced off against the YED.

It wouldn't occur to me until much later that he had no control, that he couldn't pin me like he had the others. Though it sure must've pissed him off, 'cos those yellow eyes turned an almost deep amber colour.

"You think you can take me? Really? He bit out, circling one way and then the other, trying to get a good look at Sam. I really don't think you want to do that, ya see, you don't know what the consequences will be. Have you even considered that?"

"What?" I smirked and feigned an attack, driving him back a few paces. "Such as ridding the world of scum like you? Keeping children safe from your sick games? Oh yeah, I've considered that. And I say that's just fine by me."

I launched a powerful thrust at his mid section, but he neatly sidestepped it. I tried again, this time just catching him across the arm above his self-made cut. Azazel hissed and jerked, miniature lightning crackling across his skin once more.

"Now don't be so hasty, boy," he taunted, the patronizing sonofabitch. He moved slowly round, until his back was up against the dark, looming tree. The Tree of the Dead, as I had so aptly named it. "You don't know what you're truly dealing with here. And would it be so bad, with little Sammy controlling one of the gates of hell? As duke of his own circle, he'll want for nothing," he gave a mock friendly shrug. "and I'll see to it he visits, often."

"No fucking way," I lunged once more, this time knowing it was my last chance. It was now or never. He didn't move in time, and the blade sank in up to the hilt through his chest, and buried deep in the tree behind him.

The demon gasped and stared at me, a slow, weird smile working its way onto his face. The strange lightning crackled around him, enveloping his entire body.

That smile turned into an outright laugh, haunting and harsh.

"You might just live to regret that someday," were his parting words and I had no doubt he was right. He disappeared, leaving in his place a swirling vortex of fire.

It was growing and engulfing the tree.

"Dean!" Pastor Jim yelled out to me. "This was where the murderers were executed! You've just opened a hell door!"

I stared at the blade, the fire crawling up the sword, the vortex pulsing with scalding heat.

Aw crap!

"Cut the tree down!" Bobby yelled this time. "Pull out the sword and use it to cut down the tree!"

I almost laughed. Unable to believe a mere silver sword, no matter how hardened and tough, was capable of cutting down any tree, let alone one of this size, I gave in and started swinging anyhow.

I mean, why the hell not, right? I had nothing else to lose.

And, amazingly, it cut through the wood like a hot knife through butter, felling the tree with disturbing ease. The vortex began to shrink, and I felt a stirring of hope that maybe I hadn't fucked up too badly. That was, until I saw the black shadows that fought their way out at the very last second, and swooped away into the night sky. The demon's comment about living to regret this came back to laugh in my face one more time.

The vortex sealed itself shut and faded slowly from view, much like the after effects of a firework.

Had no idea where Azazel was, or even if he'd survived, but right then? There were more pressing matters to attend to. Like my mortally wounded son.

Crashing to my knees beside him and tilting his head back, I waited until Sire gave the nod, pinched off Sam's nose and breathed long and deep into his slack mouth. The metallic taste of Sam's blood nearly made me cry out in pain and anguish.

His lungs – I could actually see his lungs – inflated with each puff of air, then Tobius massaged the kid's heart again.

We worked on him until we were shaking with exhaustion, and still we didn't give up. Bobby and the Pastor offered to take over but neither of us could let go.

After what seemed like an ice age, Tobius suddenly stopped and held up one of his hands. A hand that dripped with Sammy's silver laced blood.

"Wait! Just wait!" He stared into Sam's chest cavity, the other hand cupping Sam's heart and watched intently.

I gazed down at the kid, breath caught in my throat, and saw it happen.

The heart twitched, the muscle gleaming and rippling ever so slightly.

C'mon Sammy, you can do it.

"Swap places," Sire ordered, quickly. "You're too tired to breathe for Sam any longer."

I didn't argue with the guy, just switched roles as asked.

Nervously, I reached in and Tobius leaned over, position my hands just so, then quietly instructed me.

I quite literally held Sam's heart in my hands, and that was one scary assed feeling let me tell you. My fingers slipped on the surface and it was all I could do to hold on and keep up a regular rhythm. Squeezing and hoping like hell this was gonna work, I waited for something, anything that would give me a sign.

I felt it just as Sire was forcing more air into Sam's lungs. The heart jumped, stuttered, and began pumping furiously.

Sam's back arched up, choking and vomiting silver tainted blood. Tobius crooned wordlessly in comfort to our stricken boy, turning Sam's head to the side to allow the blood to leak out of his mouth.

Sam's heart was beating, he was alive… but now came the patch up.

I won't go into that. Needless to say, it was harrowing and exhausting; Sam was unconscious and didn't feel a thing as far as we knew, but later on he sure did.

Hysteria was setting in, that or insanity, 'cos I started laughing. Sire and others just stared at me, until the laughter turned to sobs of relief and I uttered:

"This has to be the weirdest CPR I've ever assisted," and slumped forward, resting my forehead on Sam's, just grateful to feel him breathing again. "God Sammy! You'll be the death of me someday."

Everyone was watching over us, giving me time to get my shit together, but eventually Bobby started making noises about relocating us out of here.

I didn't really pay much attention until Tobius made a surprising request.

"I would be most grateful if you could drop us off at the cabin and take a look at the Impala," Sire was saying. "We really need it fixed…"

That's right. Sam sabotaged all the vehicles to stop us going after him. Something he and I were gonna have a long talk about at some point in the not too distant future.

"…I'll be taking them to a motel to begin with, and when Sam's a little stronger we'll head out into the country. They both need time to recover after this."

"We'll help, make sure Sam's comfortable…" Jim began.

"No." Sire interrupted him, quickly but kindly. "It'll be the three of us only." I could hear the smile in his voice. "We need to heal as a pack. Just give us time to recover."

There was a pause before Bobby's gruff voice carried across to me.

"How long?"

Sire seemed to think about that, and when he spoke it was with regret. "I just don't know…"

I was dozing off, with Sam wrapped in my arms, to the soft mutterings of Sire, Bobby, and Pastor Jim as they prepared for our departure from this Godforsaken place. A soft, warm body gathered us up, but I didn't stir, knowing it was Andy and feeling safe for the first time in ages.

It was still touch and go for Sammy. We couldn't be certain if we'd got all the silver out. I'd made that mistake once before when Sam was shot in the leg; he was sick for days until I realized a fragment of the silver bullet was still lodged inside him somewhere. That time had been a close enough call, but this time it was far more critical with the wound being so near to Sam's heart.

We were in for a long bedside vigil over our youngest pack member.

Last thing I remember, is a familiar 'hump back bridge' feeling in my gut, a sudden dead silence and the roaring and rushing of gale force winds.

I slipped into a deep sleep knowing we were finally going home.

Author's notes:

Not long to go now, just another three chapters after this and we're done, so please do keep up the reviews – it makes it all the more worthwhile for me.

Cheers for all your reviews so far everyone.

Kind regards,

ST xxx