Chapter Seven
Murron woke to discover she wasn't alone. Lifting her head from the pillow, she saw Crowley on his back beside her, the hand that had been holding hers the night before still angled towards her. He was above the covers, suit jacket off, and tie removed. The first few buttons of his shirt were open, revealing the V at his the base of his throat and the faintest suggestion of dark chest hair. His chest rose and fell with each steady breath; it occurred to Murron she'd never stopped to wonder if demons needed to breathe or not. Apparently, they did.
His face, when she shifted her gaze to it, captivated her the most. His mouth was relaxed, lips parted enough to see the whites of his teeth. He looked so peaceful, and admittedly heartbreakingly handsome, oblivious to Murron's eyes on him. She moved a fraction closer to him, taking great care not to disrupt the tranquility of the scene just yet, and lifted herself up on one elbow. Thus above him, she tilted her head towards his face, gaze sweeping over his features with blossoming warmth. The urge to reach out and stroke his hair was almost too strong to ignore. How heavy of a sleeper could he be?
Biting her bottom lip anxiously, Murron hovered her free hand over his face, tracing the air above his lips, down across his cheeks, and back up over his closed eyes. Stray wisps of his hair tickled her fingertips when she trailed them across his forehead, barely touching his skin. His eyes contracted briefly, still closed, and he angled his head towards her touch. Murron swallowed back the gasp that threatened to give her away. She waited a few moments before daring to continue. Thankfully, he remained asleep when she touched his cheek gently, growing bolder as she cupped it in her palm and smiled to see him bend closer to her.
As she held his face in her hand, Murron recalled her reasoning behind her deal. Originally, she'd wanted to ask for her health, but once she'd heard tales of Crowley she knew she wouldn't have been satisfied with that. What was health if all she could do was spend it wanting something she felt she couldn't have? Because that had been the root of it: she'd wanted Crowley and only Crowley. Even with the mixture of loathing the demons she'd spoken to had used when describing him, she couldn't help but be captivated. Going out with a bang had been her plan, the 'bang' being Crowley. She'd gone into it with an idealistic view of him, a view he'd managed to shatter and replace with an even greater and far more appealing truth.
Even when he'd teased her - and he'd done so relentlessly for the first few weeks - she'd forgive him. His charismatic personality proved very addictive, his voice - here Murron had to pause, her fingers curling against his skin as she fought to compose herself. Suffice it to say, there was very little she didn't find appealing about him and these views continued to grow with each passing day.
She didn't want to believe he could even feel slightly the same. Self-preservation was his key priority and she'd never faulted him for it. It had become her first priority as well, her own preservation be damned. She was going to die, anyway; why not spend it keeping the one she -
Crowley shifted, cutting into her thoughts. Murron moved back to her own side and flipped over, feigning sleep. She felt him sit up and get off the bed. He gave a low whistle, summoning Growley to his side. The glowing hound appeared at the door and padded over to his master. Crowley knelt beside the beast and murmured something to him that Murron couldn't hear. The roaring crackle of Growley's body cut out suddenly: he'd gone.
"I know you're awake, Murron," Crowley declared suddenly, buttoning his shirt and putting his tie back on. "Enjoy yourself?"
"You could've said something," Murron groaned, thoroughly embarrassed.
"What, and ruin a perfect moment? Perish the thought!" Crowley purred, and she could hear the grin in his voice. He strolled around the bed and stood in front of her balled-up self. She glared up at him, the bottom half of her face burrowed deep in the covers, her cheeks burning bright red. "I'm not that cruel."
At that, Murron kicked out with one leg, smirking when Crowley avoided the half-hearted blow. He laughed softly and grabbed her leg, preventing her from tucking it back under the covers. He kept his hand on her calf, walking his fingers up her skin as he crouched low and put his lips close to her ear.
"Anytime you want to make this interesting, darling, I'm all for it."
Murron made an incoherent noise and yanked her leg out of his grasp. The hot flush of her cheeks had reached her forehead, sending her freckles into bold relief. Her eyes were wider than he'd ever seen them, pupils fully constricted in panic. He laughed again and walked away from the bed.
"Don't oversleep now, love. It's still the Apocalypse and you've still got a bunch of crazy witches on your pert tail," he called over his shoulder as he walked down the stairs. Murron snorted in response, refusing to budge until her heart rate had returned to normal speeds.
Awkward morning aside, Crowley'd had a point about Corrine: they were most likely still planning something. The demons that had abushed Growley and Murron the day before had to have been given a tip. And if it had been Corrine doing it, they knew that Crowley was associated with Murron and now his enemies would be after him. Hopefully, neither Corrine nor the demons had figured out Crowley's exact location. If they had, things would become even more complicated than they already were.
"What if we take the initiative?" Murron asked. They were in the kitchen, but only Murron remained seated. Crowley was pacing the floor, gnawing on his thumbnail as he mulled the situation over.
"How do you mean?"
"Take it to them? I could go to Corrine's and -"
"No."
"No?"
"That's what I just said."
"Why not?"
Crowley stopped and levelled an exasperated look at her. "You're not ready for that yet. If you had been, you wouldn't have needed me to interfere yesterday. You're not..." He moved his hands in the air aimlessly, as if searching for the right words. "You're not 'field-tested'. It's not second nature for you to attack with spells."
"That is true," Murron sighed, pressing her lips together. "I panicked when I saw Growley fly through the windows." She furrowed her brow. "Where is he?"
"Growley? I sent him out to keep watch. Patrol, if you will. He'll come when I call again. I just felt it was a better idea that he not be around us as much. He's a bit of a beacon. In retrospect, I never should have assigned him to you, at least not that closely. Before when he was tailing you from far away, it just seemed like my hellhound was wandering around. Now, they know he had a target: you."
"So what would you suggest we do?"
"We do have to handle Corrine, I agree with that. But we can't be stupid about it. You know where she lives, yeah?"
"Yes, all of the meetings were held there."
"Good. That's a start."
"I can tell you've already got something in mind."
"Clever girl. I do."
"Well? Plan on keeping me waiting forever?"
Crowley bit the tip of his tongue at her devilishly, then slid into his chair. "You're going to go over there, but it won't be you," he explained, leaning in towards her. Murron blinked, then her eyes widened as comprehension dawned. Crowley grinned. "You don't mind?"
"What, taking you inside me and letting you have complete control over my body?" Murron asked innocently. His grin widened. "What do you think?"
"That's my girl," Crowley said appreciatively, winking. "Whenever you're ready."
It was a strange thing to be controlled. As before, the only thing Murron could liken it to was a dream, the kind where all you could do was sit back and observe what was happening. She sat inside her head like a passenger in a plane that was her body, seeing as Crowley saw, feeling as he did, and sharing his thoughts. Oh yes, she could hear him: it was how they communicated while he possessed her.
They'd left his body on the bed, looking for all the world like a sleeping person. Crowley had already explained that he only had a short time before his meat-suit would become unsuitable; an hour tops. Hoping to be finished long before then, Crowley teleported them to Corrine's doorstep. Crowley ran the bell and, assuming his best impression of Murron, prepared to sell the lie.
Corrine opened the door shortly after, her gaze narrowing to see "Murron" standing there. "Come back to beg for forgiveness?" she hissed.
"If you're open to talking," Crowley replied in Murron's voice. Murron, nestled deep inside her conscious, sent Crowley a warning thought.
Please be careful in there; this is my body at risk here.
Fret not, darling, I'll take immaculate care of your amazing physique.
Now isn't the time to be cute. Quick, she's letting us in!
Crowley smiled in thanks to Corrine, who'd stepped aside to let the other in. They'd walked just a few feet into the living room when, suddenly, Crowley couldn't move.
What's wrong? Murron could feel her body weaken as Crowley's power dropped a few dozen levels.
Devil's Trap. Crowley thought back, looking down at the throw rug he was standing on. Under the rug, undoubtedly. Bollocks. This could be bad.
Can't you get back to your body? Murron asked next, beginning to panic a little. If it's just me, then the trap won't work. I could take her out!
I'm not leaving you here to this bitch.
Well, you're going to have to if you expect to get out of this alive! Corrine's capable of pretty much anything; what if she starts torturing you? It's my body, remember?
"Talking to your little bitch girlfriend, are you?" Corrine sneered, stepping up to Crowley and crossing her arms in triumph. "Don't you want to know how I knew?"
"Whether I want to or not, you're still going to run your mouth, aren't you?" Crowley returned. "Get it out of your system, then."
"You've been sold out, Crossroads King," Corrine continued, walking in a slow circle around him. "By your own kind, even. Oh yes, your little crossroad demons were more than happy to answer my summonings and take my soul in exchange for finding you."
"Congratulations. You've figured out what I already knew."
"You think this is a joke?" Corrine leaned in as far as she dared, yet didn't lay a hand on Murron's body. "Your both going to be taken to Lucifer and you can guess what he'll do to you, can't you?"
"Certainly not going to invite me to tea, that's for sure."
"Nice defense mechanism," Corrine remarked dryly. "Oh, also?" She spun on her heel slowly, casually, and faced Crowley again. "Don't even think about smoking out, either. We have your body."
Shit. they thought in unison. This wasn't going to end well.
Call Growley! Get him back at the house! Murron insisted.
I can't. If demons are at the house, they'll have brought their own. Growley's a tough pup, but he can't handle all of them. No, we'll have to play this one just right. She'll trip up eventually.
And by that time your body could be killed or otherwise compromised! Smoke out and find a temporary meat-suit!
Didn't I already say I wasn't going to leave you?
And I appreciate it, but this isn't the time for bravado. We're in a shitty place and the only way we can get out of this alive AND get your body back is for you to smoke out and leave her to me.
No, I've a better idea.
What could possibly be better than that?
Use your power. The Devil's Trap doesn't affect you.
Do you even know if that will work?
Worth a shot. Do it.
How?
Like this.
Instantly, their consciousnesses shifted and Murron was back in control of her body. She felt Crowley in the back of her mind, heard him tell her not to reveal the truth just yet. If this was to work, they'd need to take Corrine by complete surprise.
"Getting a little tired of this silent conversation thing you've got going," Corrine said. "Point is, you're cornered! They know I have you. It won't be long now before they come to collect."
"You seriously sold your soul to find me?" Murron asked, still maintaining the illusion of Crowley being in control. "Big mistake, darling."
Nice.
Thank you.
"I don't think so. Once I deliver you to Lucifer, he'll lift the contract and give me my soul back," Corrine replied smugly. "He promised me himself."
"You know there's a reason why he's called the Father of Lies, right?"
"You might want to show a little more respect to your creator, Crowley," Corrine advised them, resuming her easy pace around them. "In fact, if you kiss his ass enough times, he might just make your death quick. Same with Murron."
Murron laughed outright at that. In the back of her mind, she heard Crowley echoing her. This had dragged on long enough.
"No witty retort to that?" Corrine mocked, coming to a stop before them again. She feigned a pout. "You disappoint me! I heard you were more of a challenge!"
"I would hate to disappoint," Murron replied coolly. "So I won't."
In the next second, Corrine's floor began to catch fire, summoned by the quickly-spoken Latin that poured from Murron's lips. The other witch leapt back in alarm as the flames licked over the rug containing the Devil's Trap and burnt it enough to set Crowley free. He regained control of Murron's body just as quickly, hurling Corrine into the other side of the house before teleporting out.
True to Corrine's word, the house was surrounded by at least a dozen demons, all accompanied by a hellhound of their own. Crowley, with Murron's consciousness more at the forefront than before, ducked behind a neighbor's fence and took in the scene before them. "This could be tricky," he admitted, biting his lip nervously. "I'd hate to damage you, darling, but I'm afraid you won't be able to come out of this unscathed."
Yeah, well, just make it up to me later. Do what you gotta.
Crowley smiled. "You're a treasure, darling, truly," he whispered as he made his way towards the rear of the house. The demons were largely in the front, though some patrolled the backyard. These Crowley took out relatively quickly, along with their hounds. Their screams would alert the others, no doubt, but by the time they could react, Crowley and Murron would already be inside and making their way up to Crowley's meat-suit. Once there, they'd be able to clear out the rest of the demons out front.
Crowley entered the house through the kitchen door, sending his powers out ahead of them and knocking those inside for a complete loop. In this way, they managed to reach Murron's bedroom and swiftly took out the two guarding his body. Crowley suggested Murron brace herself, then tore himself from her body in a torrent of crackling red smoke.
As he entered his meat-suit, Murron collapsed to the ground and gasped for breath. Possession was extremely tiring, but she knew she didn't have time to rest. This fight wasn't over and Crowley needed her help. She coughed a few times, looking up gratefully at Crowley when he helped her to her feet. Man, it was good to see his face again! It strengthened her and she nodded once back at him, silently assuring him she was ready. He winked at her briefly, then led the way back downstairs where the outside demons had begun to flood the small cottage.
Crowley went ahead of Murron, sweeping the first wave of demons aside like paper, then moved into the room as Murron shouted incantation after incantation from the landing. Flames burst around them, setting ablaze demons and hellhounds alike. She fought the sadness at seeing her beloved house get swallowed up in flames, everything she'd ever loved burning away with their enemies. Now wasn't the time for sentiment, she reminded herself and continued her assault.
Soon, she and Crowley had cleared enough of a path to get outside. A pair of hounds started after them, having managed to survive the blaze. Immediately, Crowley whistled loudly, the piercing sound echoing into the hot air. Growley appeared as if from nowhere, snarling, his claws extended towards his prey. He pinned the pursuing hounds at once, bowing his head to tear into their throats with relish.
Crowley gave a shout of triumph at his pet and seized Murron's hand. He swung her against him, holding her close with one arm, her own arms encircling his neck, and they disappeared from sight.