Sorry for the short, late chapter! *nervous laughter* It'll get more interesting soon. Promise.

Also, I put a few new things on the site I made for this story, face claims for Chris and Zack (you'll meet him in here). Check it out if you want. The link is on my bio. :)

~Christianne

Nikki POV

I sighed as I got out of my car. I put my arms over my head and stretched, not caring that the bottom of my t-shirt was riding up a few inches.

I'd left Cheyenne 10 hours ago. Kory sent me a text 45 minutes ago that said she saw a black Impala across the street at the park.

I felt a little bad that I'd run out on them, again, but…I just couldn't deal with that right now.

I grabbed my jacket from the passenger's seat and pulled it on as I walked up to the bar I'd parked in front of.

I sat at the bar and ordered a beer. As I waited for it, I played with the ends of my hair. After the incident with Sherman, I'd cut about 11 inches off it. Now, when I braided my hair, it hung about two inches below my shoulders, rather than two inches above my butt. I was a little upset about it (it took my years to get it that long), but Sherman didn't leave me with much a choice.

"Thanks." I said, distracted, as the bartender handed me a beer. He just nodded.

I looked around the bar; it wasn't crowded, but it wasn't exactly empty either. I could sit here for as long as I wanted and no one would notice me. I could sit with my thoughts and be left alone. Well, that's what I planned on anyway.

"Hey, mind if I sit here?" A voice asked from behind me. I was staring blankly at the TV behind the bar. I shrugged, listening to the perky blonde read off the local news.

"I'm Zack." The same voice said.

"I'm not interested." I muttered, taking another drink of my beer. I had to see what he looked like, though. I was curious.

My first thought was Not bad. He was similar in height to Dean, maybe just a little shorter, and with smaller shoulders. He had messy, sandy blond hair and some scruff on his chin. His jeans were probably worth more than my car, his leather jacket didn't have a scratch on it, and his white t-shirt was immaculate.

He saw me looking at him and smirked. I rolled my eyes, ran a hand through my hair and took another drink of my beer.

I knew I should keep driving, and I didn't wanna have more than one beer in me when I drove.

"Hey! Wait!" I heard Zack say as I tossed money on the bar. He grabbed my forearm, and I instinctively grabbed his and twisted. He let out a noise of discomfort. "Jeez-just wanna know your name."

I let go quickly and jammed my hands in my pockets. I looked at Zack, who was currently stretching out the fingers of the hands I'd twisted and holding his wrist with the other. "Nikki." I said eventually.

"Well…Nice to meet you." He said with a charming smile. I laughed once, and looked down.

That smile was nothing.

"Look, I've been sitting in the back trying to get up the nerve to talk to you since you walked in." Zack admitted, his clear blue eyes dropping sheepishly to the floor. "Can't just let you leave without buying you a drink." He added with a wry smile.

I raised an eyebrow at him. "…You're offering to buy me a drink?"

"Yup." Zack grinned. I hesitated again, and sighed, getting back on my barstool. "What'll it be?"

I rested my elbow on the table and rubbed my forehead. "What the Hell…" I said under my breath. "Bourbon." I finally said.

Zack looked impressed, and ordered me my drink. He got the same.

"Well, what are we drinking to?" Zack asked, holding up his shot glass.

I sighed, raking my hair back with one hand and taking my shot glass with the other. "I dunno. How 'bout crappy choices?" I offered, my heart wasn't in it.

Zack grinned. "To crappy choices." He repeated, grinning.

I tossed my shot back, and tried to hold in a laugh when Zack coughed and winced as his went down.

"Wow..." was all he said as he shrugged out of his black leather jacket.

I let out a laugh and shook my head. "Thanks." I said honestly. "But I gotta go." With that, I spun on my heel and started towards the door.

"Wait!" I heard Zack say, and a hand again shot out and grabbed my upper arm. I spun around to, and put one hand on his chest, keeping him at arm's length, and my other grabbed his wrist, ready to twist it, when I froze.

With his jacket off, I could see the edge of a tattoo under his shirt sleeve. My gaze flickered to Zack's face, which was a blank mask. I slowly removed my hand from his (firm) chest and pulled the sleeve of his t-shirt up on his bicep. There, on his arm, was an anit-possession tattoo. The same type Sam and Dean had, the same shape as the burn on my back. Well, it used to be the same mark. Across the middle, there was an ugly, jagged scar. It was like someone slashed through the middle of the tattoo with a red hot fire poker.

I looked back up at Zack's face, and he lowered his chin. His hair fell in his eyes a little, and when he blinked his eyes turned black.

"I am not here to hurt you." He said lowly. "I have a message."

"I could exorcise you right now." I said in the same tone.

"I'm just a messenger." Zack said lower, almost at a growl.

"So?" I asked.

"He couldn't come himself. He's busy." Zack said simply. We hadn't moved, he still hand a hand on my upper arm, and I still hand on his wrist.

"Who?" I asked sarcastically.

Zack paused, and worked his jaw. "You call him Yellow-Eyes." He said through gritted teeth.

I raised an eyebrow.

"Let's sit." Zack said, letting go of my arm and gesturing slowly to a booth. I stayed still for a moment, then sat on the other side of the booth.

"What the Hell does he want now?" I hissed across the table at him.

"Whoa whoa whoa," Zack said, holding his hands up, shaking his head. "Hold up. He needs to know a few things first."

"Then he can find me and ask me himself." I snapped, about to get up. A force pulled me back into my seat, like to invisible hands shoving down on my shoulders.

I clenched my jaw and glared at Zack. "You really, really don't want to do this." I said lowly.

"Believe me, I don't wanna." Zack said, shaking his head. "I'm a business man, Nikki." He sighed. "I make deals, I keep deals, I collect. I don't do this whole 'make her listen' stuff."

I didn't say anything. Zack rolled his eyes, put his arms on the table and leaned closer to me. "When was the last time you talked to the Winchesters?" he asked me.

I snorted. "Yeah, like I'm gonna tell you that." I scoffed.

"You wanna know what my boss has to say?" Zack bargained.

I gritted my teeth. "Get your creepy demon mojo off me first." I bargained. The held-down feeling was gone. "Thursday night I talked to Dean. Well, technically it was Friday morning."

Zack nodded. "Good. Now, my boss wants you to check out the place at these coordinates." Zack said, sliding a folded notecard across the table. I took it, shoving it imminently into my pocket. "And he has a word of advice for you."

I looked up expectantly.

"He thinks it'd be best if you didn't contact the Winchesters for a while." He finished.

I snorted. "Yeah? You do realized what you said just makes me want to call them more, right?"

"Understandable." Zack said, standing up and pulling his jacket back on. "I guess you just have to ask yourself; how much does keeping them alive mean to you?"

I frowned and stood up. "Don't say that to me." I said lowly. Zack snorted, and leaned back in his side of the booth. "Well, I'm gonna go, unless you need to tell me anything else?"

"Yeah, go ahead. Think you'll need any help?" Zack asked.

I rolled my eyes, and smiled at him, putting my hands in my pockets. "I got a fast car, trust issues and a shotgun. I'll be fine." I said, giggling a little at him before I walked out of the bar and got into my Mustang.

The coordinates on the notecard are for a small town in Montana.

The demon gave me a job? I sat in my car for a few minutes, trying to decide is I should go or not.

I sighed, pushed my map off my lap, turned the key in the ignition and pointed the front of my car towards Big Sky Country.