Readers,

Thank you so much for sticking with me through my brief break! Having a concussion isn't easy when you just want to write, but trying to focus at all let alone be on my computer is hellish to say the least. Now, well, I'm feeling better and whipping chapters out left and right. I hope you enjoy!

If you haven't already, go check out my new original story on Wattpad, Valor! It's gonna be one of my favorite stories I've ever written to date. You won't want to miss it!

XOXO Ally Layne.

(My user for Wattpad is theallylayne if you didn't already know!)

Holy Water

4: Devilish Step Sisters

Persie's Uncle Bobby had given her a new sword to use- something that was smaller than Riptide and had more girth than what she was used to. But the blade was still balanced, even though it hadn't been forged by mystical beings who have been smithing for thousands of years.

She decided she'd give it a name when it became worthy of something worth remembering.

Hopefully, it wouldn't be anything too bad. She didn't want to wind up in another war so early into life.

However, the boys immediately decided that she was horrible at shooting guns and should not be allowed near one unless absolutely necessary- and even then, it would be better for her to just attack them with a sword or use her powers.

Apollo had not graced her with any sense of aim in her DNA, and she decided the next time she saw the sun god she'd need to punch him because it's embarrassing to be that bad at something in front of good-looking men.

At least she was a master at hand-to-hand combat, but they'd never let her live down how bad of a shot she was.

She accidentally hit the side of Uncle Bobby's house, just to the right of Dean's head. That's when Sam had promptly taken the gun from her hands and handed the sword back to her, informing the demigod that she better stick to what she's good at.

Persie definitely agreed.

Uncle Bobby made her repair the hole in the siding, and she grumbled the entire time she was forced to do it.

"Hey," Sam called out into the doorway of Bobby's office, where Uncle Bobby and Dean were sitting near his desk and working on rebuilding the Colt. Persie wasn't annoyed that they wouldn't let her near the thing and happily stayed away.

It wasn't like she could've used it anyway.

She was sitting in the corner of the office, reading up on the different monsters in one of Bobby's books he had laying around. Her uncle told her if she wanted in on the hunting world she'd need to do some research, so she decided to put her inner Annabeth Chase to good use and started to slowly make her way through the book.

"What's up?" Dean asked, not bothering to look up from his work. She took a break to admire the scene, not to mention she needed a break from straining her eyes to read the book Bobby handed her.

"Might have found some omens in Ohio," Sam said, stopping next to them. "Dry lightning, barometric pressure drop, the classics."

"Sounds thrilling."

Persie's eyebrows raised. "Classics for what?"

Dean looked up this time to grin at her wickedly. "Demons."

Uncle B frowned and smacked the back of Dean's head before deliberately eyeing the book in her hands. "Did you do any reading, girl?"

She sighed, dropping it into her jean-clad lap. "I tried. But dyslexia doesn't help much."

He pursed his lips. "Hm."

"Well, some guy blows his head off in a church and the other guy goes postal in a hobby shop before the cops take him out," Sam continued. "Might be demonic omens."

"Or just a suicide and a psycho scrapbooker," Dean muttered.

"Dean, it's our best lead since Lincoln."

The man in question turned back to his work on Bobby's desk. "Where in Ohio?"

"Elizabethville," Sam answered. "It's a half-dead factory town in the rust belt."

Dean rolled his eyes. "There's gotta be a demon or two in South Beach."

Persie snorted, drawing all the eyes to her. "There might not be demons but I can tell you there'd be plenty of things to hunt in South Beach."

Dean pointed to her. "See! She's got the right idea." He turned to Sam. "Sammy, we gotta go to South Beach."

Sam rolled his eyes as Persie snickered some more at the nickname Dean had for his brother. "But she said there aren't any demons. We need to do some work and figure out how to get you out of your deal, Dean. We can't do that in South Beach."

Dean pursed his lips as Sam then turned to look at Bobby. "How's it going with the Colt, Bobby?"

"Slow," he ground out.

"I tell you," Dean voiced. "It's a little sad seeing the Colt like that."

"The only thing it's good for now is figuring out what makes it tick."

"So what makes it tick?" Sam asked, amusement poking through on his face.

Uncle Bobby, however, was definitely not amused. So, like any good niece, Persie found it to be absolutely hilarious.

"So, if we are gonna go check out these omens in Ohio…" Dean trailed off, looking over to Bobby somewhat sheepishly. "You think you can have that thing ready by this afternoon?"

Persie decided the glare Uncle Bobby's directed at Dean could've made ice melt. "Well, it won't kill demons by then, but I can promise it'd kill you."

Dean grinned. "Alright, c'mon, we're wasting daylight!" he exclaimed, jogging off to grab his go bag and head toward his beloved Impala. "See you, Bobby!"

Sam looked at Persie with a small smirk. "Well, you wanted a shot and now you have one. This is how you prove to Dean that you can tag along with us."

She looked between her Uncle and Sam, then rolled her eyes. "Nah, Sammy-Boy. This is the one shot you guys have to prove to me that you can hang around. See you in the car," she told the younger Winchester, before stepping over to give her Uncle a kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you when I get back."

"Be smart," Bobby told her. "And stay safe."

Persie raised a brow and started to make her way out the door to Bobby's office. "I'm going to be fine. I've done way worse things than this."

Sam's eyes widened as she shot him a wink. "See you in the car!"

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.

.

The next day, Sam, Dean, and Persie were dressed in suits and were masquerading as insurance agents for a random insurance company in order to get some words out of the local Elizabethville priest.

"There's not much left for the insurance company," the man who introduced himself as Father Gil said. "It's a suicide. I saw it myself."

She didn't like Father Gil. His eyes were dark. Her gut pulled whenever he edged nearer to her, and it wasn't in a good way.

Dean was pretending to write notes while he really had been sneaking a glance at the backside of Persie's skirt of her own pin-striped suit. Piper had given her some heels as a gift once to piss the girl off, and today she decided to grow up and wear them. Apparently they worked.

Persie decided to take his stares as a compliment to her figure and grinned as he looked to the priest. "Well, this shouldn't take long then."

Father Gil motioned to the balcony above the doorway. Persie looked up and started to see for herself a man standing there and holding a gun to his head with a half-crazed look in his eye.

She blinked.

"That's where Andy did it. It's the first time I'd seen him in weeks. He used to come every Sunday."

"When did he stop?" Sam asked.

The Father let out a huff of air. "Probably around two months ago, right around the time everything else started to change."

Persie tilted her head. "Change how?" She didn't need to be a daughter of Athena to notice the look that the brothers shared at the Father's words.

"Let's just say this used to be a town you could be proud of. People cared about each other. Andy sang in the choir, and then one day… he just wasn't Andy anymore. It's like he was…"

"Possessed?" Sam finished, eying him warily.

Father Gil shrugged slightly, wary to the wording from the youngest Winchester. "You could say that. Gambled away his money, cheated on his wife, destroyed his business. Yes, like a switch had been flipped."

"Could be a psychotic break," Persie added, clasping her hands demurely in front of her. "There are a lot of explanations for this that could have things to do with any potential triggers. Did you know of anything that could've happened to Andy that would've caused this?"

Of course, she was speaking from experience.

Sam and Dean stiffened at her side. They obviously hadn't been going down that route, but Persie knew it would be smart to cover all the angles before they made any real assumptions about Elizabethville.

Father Gil pursed his lips in thought, then finally shrugged to himself after a few moments. "There's nothing I could think of that happened to the young man. It's really a shame."

Persie nodded, then turned to look back up at the rafters. The man holding a gun to his head- his eyes changed from her perspective. The wild look he wore now had formed two black orbs that reeked of death.

From the corner of her eye, she noticed Dean again looking down at her legs, freshly shaven of course, and hid a smirk of amusement when Sam elbowed his brother.

"Father, did you know the man who killed those people in the hobby shop?" Sam asked, completely snapping her from the vision playing in her head.

"Sure," he said, nodding. "Tony Perkins. Good man."

"Would you say that his personality suddenly changed one day, too?" Sam continued.

Persie bit her lip as Father Gil answered, "I never thought about it that way, but… yes." He nodded again. "It was about the same time as Andy. Two months ago."

The brothers shared another look, making Persie stiffen.

"Well, thank you, Father. Appreciate your time," Dean said, giving the priest one more nod before they walked out of the church. He held the door open for both Persie and even Sam.

Persie's back still remained stiff as she eyed the two brothers warily on their way back to the Impala. "What the Hades happened two months ago?"

Dean paused his step, tilting his head at the young woman. "Hades?"

She threw her hands up in the air. "That's what you get from my question?"

He smiled cheekily at her and nodded over to Sam who poised himself. "Two months ago we opened up the Devil's Gate."

She blinked. "Why would you do that?"

Dean let out a snort. "Wasn't by choice, you can bet your tiny ass that's the truth."

"You sure my ass is tiny, hotshot? You seemed to be checking it out for an awfully long time for something so tiny," She shot back, giving herself a mental high five when she saw a faint blush shade his cheeks.

"Well, no matter what Dean thinks about your... " Sam glanced down at her awkwardly. "assets, it still doesn't change the fact that after we opened the gate, this town suddenly turned into Margaritaville. There's no coincidence."

Persie nodded. She supposed she'd be able to get more out of the boys later about what happened, but right now they had some fixing up to do. "Where to next, Sammy Boy?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Hotel, of course."

Her nose scrunched. "Yay."

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"This certainly deserves a five-star rating," Persie's voice rang out as the trio entered their hotel room.

She shook her head up at the mirror on the ceiling that made Dean crack a wide shit-eating grin with a chuckle. "Ever been in a Five-Star hotel, Princess?" he asked as he sat his duffle bag down on the bed beneath the mirror.

"I've certainly been in ones better than this," she eyed the mirror distastefully before turning to the tall blond man in front of her. "And worse."

Dean smirked. "What, you had rooms with stripper poles, too?"

She rolled her eyes and tossed her bag on the couch, where she quickly decided she'd choose to sleep. "Wouldn't you like to know."

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother, who was once again blatantly checking out the younger woman. "Dean-"

But as soon as Dean went to close the door, his attention shifted. "Richie?"

Persie and Sam turned to see who Dean started to speak with. "I don't believe it."

A shorter, bulkier man stood in the doorway of the room across from them with curly dark hair underneath a fedora, seemingly out of place with the jogger suit and gold chain he wore with it. Persie didn't need to wonder for too long where he was from when she heard his thick accent.

"Hey, Dean Winchester, right?" Richie asked, pointing to Dean.

Dean nodded. "Yeah."

Anything the taller man might have added was quickly cut off from the door opening even further to Richie's room, and a long-legged busty blonde walked out with a salacious smirk on her face.

Persie pursed her lips as her gut tightened at the look of obvious curiosity and arousal on Dean's face.

"Oh, well this is my sister… uh, Cheryl," Richie said, letting out a chuckle while gesturing to the newcomer.

The blonde seemed to jut out her chest as she turned to look over at them, making Persie's blood run cold. "Hey boys."

Dean blinked, his mouth parting slightly at the beauty in front of him. "Cheryl."

Cheryl looked back to Richie who handed her a wad of cash from his coat pocket. Persie stifled a laugh as she rolled her eyes and walked away, stashing the cash in her visible bra on the way out.

She did always wonder how much prostitutes could make on the side. She'd never do it herself, but it seems like an interesting life decision if they get paid decently. Strippers, too.

Too bad she had too many scars that would disgust anyone who had to see her on a pole. Persie's heard of plenty of people making big bucks stripping downtown or in Vegas. Apparently this town is next on the list of big cities to hit up.

"Well, you know, Step Sister," Richie said to the boys, who watched little miss Cheryl leave.

Dean rolled his eyes at the other man. "Well, c'mon in." He gestured to his brother and Persie, who was now making herself home on the couch and leaning against her bag with her feet up over the side.

The sight of the demigod's toned legs beneath her skirt that rode up at the hem made him pause.

"Uh… Dean?"

He blinked at his brother's questioning gaze, immediately snapping out of whatever daze he had found himself in. "Oh, Richie, this is my brother Sam, and here we have the lovely Persephone Jackson."

Persie raised a brow at that introduction, watching as Richie and Sam exchanged pleasantries before she held out her hand for the man to take. "Persie, actually. Nice to meet you."

The fedora-wearing man bent down and pressed a kiss on the top of her knuckles. "Well, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Persie."

She quickly pulled her hand from his own, doing her best to not visibly wipe the slobber off her fingers that he left behind. "Uh-huh."

"Okay, that enough of that, Richie-boy," Dean said, pulling the shorter man away from where she was lounging.

Persie snickered at the disgruntled look on Richie's face as he was brought to the other side of the room. "What's that all 'bout, Winchester? Don't tell me she's yours-"

Both of her eyebrows shot upward. "What do you mean, Jersey? I don't belong to anyone especially that hotshot over there."

Richie looked up at Dean knowingly. "Ah, so she's your Stepsister, eh?"

Dean looked shocked at the insinuation of Persie being his… well, entertainment, but quickly realized how that might not be something he would despise, either. He opened his mouth to speak, and closed it seeing Persie's look of death she was glaring at him with.

Sam coughed, cutting him off before Persie could decide to do something homicidal. "So, how do you two know each other?"

Dean would have thanked his brother for the out if it wouldn't have made him look like such a loser. Instead, he let his mind wander back in time, tilting his head slightly. "You were in school." he shrugged.

"It was that succubus in Granasi, right?" Richie finished, looking at the elder Winchester in question.

"Yeah, yeah."

"Oh, man you shoulda seen the rack on this broad," Richie told Sam, making Persie's eyes widen at his use of hands in illustration. He sucked in a breath. "Freakin' tragedy when I had to gank her."

"Woah, woah, wait," Dean cut him off as he was unbuttoning his sleeves while Persie eyed his now visible forearm with her mouth wide open. "Who killed her? If I remember correctly, your ass was toast before I showed up."

Her mouth quickly snapped closed at the macho on macho fight starting to occur in front of her.

Richie grinned as his eyes flickered between Sam and Persie. "Oh, I forgot what a comedian this guy was."

"Richie, Richie-" Dean started as the shorter man's phone started to go off. "I told you then and I'll tell you again, you're not cut out for the job. You're gonna get yourself killed."

Persie blinked.

Richie rolled his eyes and opened his phone. "Talk to me," he answered, before turning back to Dean. "FYI, Winchester, words hurt." Persie noticed Dean tighten his jaw as the other man seemed to brush off his worry. "No, it's not a good time, baby. Later."

Persie rolled her eyes as she stood up to take off the uncomfortable suit coat. "You seem to be popular."

Richie looked at her up and down, stopping directly and staring at her more exposed chest in the white blouse she wore. "You lookin' for a good time, baby?"

She blinked. "First of all-" Immediately deciding it wasn't worth the blow-up and to ignore the tiny man in front of her, she turned to the brothers. "Can I drown him? I really want to drown him."

Dean pursed his lips, and Sam shook his head while letting out a chuckle. "Just give him a little scare," Sam said jokingly, taking off his own suit coat. "Maybe then he'll lay off a little."

Persie raised a brow at Dean, who had yet to say anything. "What about you, hotshot? Want in on some waterworks?"

A smirk slowly crossed his lips. "Maybe later." He turned to look at Richie, who had sat down in Persie's spot. "You found anything in this town, anyway?"

Richie grinned, shrugging nonchalantly. "Nah, I got nothin'." He paused. "Wait, you mean like demons and whatnot?"

Everyone gave the inexperienced hunter a look, leading Richie to only grin even wider and shrug again. "Nah, I got nothin'."

Dean let out a huff. "Typical. What about your sister over there?"

"Honestly, she definitely had the devil in her, but she wasn't no demon, you know what I'm sayin'?" he laughed, but it quickly died down when faced with Dean's serious expression. "Right. Seriously, church guy, hobby shop guy, they were lunch meat by the time I got there. Maybe they were possessed, but I can't prove it."

Persie took her hair out from the tight bun and let it flow down in its natural waves. She started to run her hands through it nervously. "That sucks."

She didn't notice a pair of green eyes watching her fingers' every movement.

"Yeah, that's pretty much where we are, too," Sam admitted. "Let's just say that demons are possessing people in this town, you know, raising hell."

"But why would a demon blow his brains out?" Dean countered.

"Well, they are demons," Persie muttered. "Obviously trying to stir up trouble."

"For fun?" Richie voiced, "He wrecks one body, moves to another-"

"Or she," Persie interrupted, pausing when the guys all looked over at her. "What? Not all demons are male. Nothing? Feminism, ya idjits, it's the 21st Century, get with it."

Dean looked at her with wide eyes. "Wow. You definitely are related to Bobby."

She shrugged, leaning back against the couch again. "You said it."

"Anyone else in town that fits the profile still left breathing?" Sam asked, getting back to the point.

"What, like a nice guy turned douche?" Dean muttered.

"There's Trotter."

Sam hooked up his laptop. "Who's that?"

"He used to be head of the Rotary Club when he turned into a bastard all the sudden, brought in the gambling, the hookers," Richie explained, laughing. "He practically owns this whole town."

Persie's ears perked up. "Where can we find Mr. Captain Douche?"

Richie smirked. "Oh, he'll be at his bar in a few hours."