Chapter 19: The Hunter and the Angel
The loaded water gun fell into the trunk with a loud plastic clunk, sending a shimmering note through the air as it collided with the folded iron Devil's Trap. Next came the bag of iron ball bearings and the two handguns. Melanie fidgeted with the shotgun loaded with salt rounds, pretending to check the sighting as the almost silent footsteps drew nearer.
When she gauged the walker had come close enough, she spun around, dark hair flying, the muzzle of the shotgun pointed steadily between the man's eyes.
The man halted, unperturbed by the weapon held against him. He smiled, sniffing the air delicately.
"Salt doesn't work on angels, you should know," he said in a deep, calm voice with an Arabic accent to match his features.
Melanie froze. An angel. Well, that was new. Rupert had hunted a few a while back, but she had never come across any herself. She had one of their weapons – an angelblade – just under the Trap, sheathed in what used to be a cover for Melanie's long since abandoned recorder.
"An angel, huh?" She lowered the shotgun but did not relax her defensive stance. "Congrats, you're the first I've met."
The angel bowed dramatically, waving his hand in an elegant hello. "Tasharrafna, Melanie Harker."
She had no idea what that meant, but it sounded friendly enough. He didn't seem to be attacking her, anyway. Not yet.
"Nice to meet you too," she ventured, straightening ever so slightly and inconspicuously leaning a hand on the lip of the car's trunk, closer to the angelblade. "But you have me at a disadvantage. I don't know your name."
The angel's amiable smile widened as he chuckled. Melanie had never heard a sound like it. It literally sounded like a babbling brook, albeit lowered a few octaves. If honey had a sound, this would surely be it. Rich but sweet. Against her will, Melanie felt a bubble of warmth pop into existence in her chest. She doused it immediately: she would not grow attached to a creature she might be about to kill.
"Forgive me, Miss Harker. My name," he said, locking her with deep brown eyes that looked far older than the thirty-something vessel's had any right to, "is Maalik."
"Maalik." Melanie tested the foreign word on her tongue. She liked it. "And what brings you to this fine dilapidated part of town?" she asked, gesturing at the run-down houses and broken cars surrounding them.
Maalik looked slowly around, smiling in amusement at the neglect he saw as though at some private joke.
"I have come to offer you a bargain," he said at last, his eyes returning to Melanie's.
The young hunter was instantly on her guard.
"I don't think so," she said quickly, masking her fear with anger. "I don't make deals with non-humans, sorry. I like my soul fine where it is, thanks." Her hand slipped slowly down and grasped the velvety cloth that concealed the angelblade.
Fury flashed in Maalik's eyes so quickly Melanie wasn't sure if she'd imagined it.
"You misunderstand me, girl. I am no demon." He sneered the word as though repulsed by the very feel of it on his tongue. Well, they had that in common at least. "A deal with an angel is mutually beneficial. I do not require your soul. Only your assistance."
"All right, then, Maalik," she said slowly, frowning slightly in confusion. "I'm listening."
Maalik clasped his hands behind his back and took a few leisurely steps forward. Melanie's fist tightened on the hidden weapon.
"You have been hunting the Winchester demon, have you not?"
"Yes," she replied, uncertain. "How do you know that?"
He shot her a breezy smile. "Many of my kind have been tracking the demon. You have been noticed." His tone implied she should take this as a high compliment. "My superior has decreed that the Winchester must die, and soon. He is, unfortunately, difficult to trace. You, as I understand it, are quite close to him. I propose that we join forces to capture him."
Melanie waited. "And?" she prompted, sure there was more.
Maalik's grin widened once more. "And then I shall allow you to accompany me as I interrogate the scum. I believe you'd enjoy that."
"And by 'interrogate' I'm guessing you mean –"
"Torture," he finished for her. "Yes."
Melanie kept her expression cool and blank, ignoring the flush of excitement and eagerness at the prospect of making Dean Winchester bleed.
"And why do you think I'd enjoy that?" This angel knew far too much for her liking.
"Why," Maalik said, surprised, "as vengeance for what he did to poor Maximillion, of course. That is why you hunt him so diligently, is it not?"
Melanie's plucked brows tugged down in a frown. "How do you know about Max?" Her voice only wavered slightly when she said his name.
"As I've said," he explained, taking another step closer. "You have been noticed."
She stared up into the deep eyes that reminded her of melted chocolate. His teeth were white against the dark skin, and she had to admit, the vessel he'd chosen wasn't exactly ugly.
"And," he continued unexpectedly, "I remember hearing your prayers for him. Back when you used to pray."
Mel's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "That was a long time ago."
"Indeed. I think it's time they were answered, don't you?"
A smile wormed its way onto her lips. There was no doubting that having an angel on her side would drastically increase her chances of surviving this hunt. That was, she checked herself, if she could trust this angel. She'd learned long ago never to judge a person trustworthy just because they had a fine face. It was a lesson that had been drilled into her very core in a single night.
"And when you've gotten all you want from Dean Winchester ... What then?"
"Then we kill him."
Melanie scoffed. "You do know what we're up against, don't you? If there's anything that can actually kill this mother, it's his own weapon, the First Blade."
"Oh, I beg to differ," he drawled, pulling an antique pistol from the inside pocket of his suit jacket.
Melanie stared. And stared. She'd heard about this weapon, Rupert had told her, but it couldn't be. It had been lost – those Winchesters had lost it trying to kill Satan or something. And yet she recognised the pentagram carved into the grip. Its long thin snout matched the sketch Rupert had shown her. She could see the Latin words non timebo mala etched along the barrel.
"Is that ... the Colt?" she asked, breathless.
Maalik nodded, holding the gun out to her. With trembling fingers, she took it.
The gun that could kill anything. Well, except archangels, apparently. But still ... this could be the answer.
"This could kill him," she whispered with relish.
"My superior and I believe it will. And if not," he added jovially, "it will surely hurt him."
Melanie looked up, her eyes alight with excitement. "And if it doesn't kill him, do you have a plan B?"
Maalik nodded. "There is a cell prepared in Heaven, just for him. My master will be quite pleased to ... entertain himself with the Winchester demon, if we are unable to terminate him."
"And who is this master of yours?" Melanie asked casually.
Maalik's grin returned, wider than ever. "Why, the new god of course."
"New god? What happened to the old one?"
"He abandoned us years ago." Maalik waved a hand, dismissing his father's importance.
"Huh." Nice to know it wasn't just me, she thought.
"The new god will never leave us," Maalik said, savouring each word. "He is the one who told me where to find the Colt. He was once only a mere angel but soon he will be so much more. He is the one who killed Dean Winchester and finalized his transformation. And now he is rectifying that mistake, as a good leader must. Even now, he awaits his chance to return to his rightful place in Heaven, with only us who truly love him by his side." Maalik's eyes had a fire in them that sent an exhilarating shiver up Melanie's spine. "He will create a new world for angels and humans alike and we will rejoice," he finished in a fervent whisper.
Melanie couldn't deny she liked the sound of that. She doubted it would be as neat and tidy as Maalik seemed to think – new world orders rarely were – but it would be nice to be on the winning side for once.
"This new god," she asked, her own lips quirking up in a smile to mirror Maalik's. "Does he have a name?"
Maalik nodded, beaming at her enthusiasm. "Oh, indeed. Heaven and Earth will rejoice with gladness in their hearts under the gentle hand of the mighty X."