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Artwork courtesy of Valjean & |
By Valjean
ARCHIVE: No
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Artwork courtesy of Valjean & |
*****
Dean knew exactly where to find what he needed, and it wasn’t because he’d read it in a book of black magic. He knew because Sam wasn’t the only one who could get in touch with “the other side.” It hadn’t taken much effort to summon the dark thing that had hovered so long over the Winchester brothers. All he’d had to do was chant a dark spell in Latin (something Dean knew full well that his father would whoop his ass for if he ever he found out), open his mind, and then sleep for a few hours at a rest stop along the coastal highway. It had come to him in a nightmare ... a picture of a place he instinctively knew ... the place where he had to go if he wanted to save the woman he loved ... the place he was being called to. In the back seat of the Impala the book titled The Arts of Satan glowed with a ghostly light of its own as the car thundered down the road.
Seattle wasn’t far, and he had just enough money to buy the gas to get there. Now, he sat in the car staring up at the turrets of an ancient stone building, its wooden doors boarded closed, its curtainless windows empty eye sockets watching, a “No Trespassing” sign staked on the unkempt lawn. Once, in the 1800’s, this place had been a mansion ... an estate for the rich. Then it had been a county library until purchased by a private group for use as their exclusive school back in the 1940’s. However, besides teaching the children their ABC’s, the owners of that school had also practiced ancient rituals passed down to them by their ancestors for thousands of years. Seeped in tradition and a form of magic, the Snake Cult’s center of education had at its heart a room well suited for the purpose Dean Winchester had in mind ... a room where the thing that would grant his wish was waiting.
The stone stairs were steep, the air heavy with the scent of mold and mildew, and at one point, the X5 paused in his descent to stifle a sneeze. When he finally reached the sub basement, Dean already had the feeling he was far underground, and then he had to follow a well worn path that led even further down, the walls gradually turning from hand hewn material to natural stone. It took several minutes for him to reach the cavern, his only guide the flickering of torch light from far up ahead that cast eerie shadows on the walls. Even his cat sight found the distortion disconcerting ... his ability to judge distance impaired, the dancing shadows hypnotic in a dangerous way. Then, at last, a large pair of wooden doors loomed ahead.
Torches on either side were what had illuminated his steps so far, hissing and flickering like devil tongues. As Dean stared at those panels a little voice seemed to be whispering inside of his head. Turn around ... run ... get out while you can. It sounded very much like his mother’s voice, and the X5 almost heeded it. But then Dean thought about Max ... the nights he’d spent in her arms ... the feel of himself sliding into her hot, wet, tight body ... the way she cried out his name when she came and raked his back with her nails, clinging to him ... the little boy they had together ... She was the only woman in the earthly world who knew what he really was and still loved him, and he’d be damned if he was going to lose her like he’d lost his mom ... like Sam had lost Jessica. Like Sam and Max are going to lose you, that little voice nagged. Shaking it off, Dean took a deep breath, raised his chin, and strode forward, throwing the doors open to enter the deepest chamber of the cursed building.
Logan Cale was standing beside the altar that anchored the center of the room. Dressed in a brown cardigan and khaki slacks with his head tipped to one side, the man looked little different than he had all those years ago in Seattle when they’d ostensibly been on the same side. “Welcome home, Alec,” Eyes Only said, greeting his visitor with a chilly smile and looking far too healthy for a man who’d taken a bullet in the chest just a few days ago. He gestured toward the blood stained stone altar with its metal shackles. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
“I bet you have,” Dean said under his breath. Then, more loudly, his chin still in the air. “We’ve really gotta stop meetin’ like this, Logan. People are gonna start to talk.” He glanced around the room. “But hey, I half expected our rendezvous to be in a sewer.”
Cale smiled wickedly, and something yellow flickered in his eyes. Dean saw, and his expression tensed, even as his hand crept toward the gun concealed in the waistband of his jeans.
“Bullets won’t do you any good,” Logan said, speaking as matter-of-factly as if discussing the weather. “I’ve gone beyond that stage now.”
“Stage?” Dean said. “You mean stages of possession?”
Again the enigmatic smile as cool blue eyes glistened with dancing orange behind the spectacles.
“That explains a lot,” the X5 conceded, feeling like an idiot for not realizing this before. “Who am I really talking to?” he then asked. “Not Logan Cale.”
“No,” the man who wasn’t Logan replied. “Logan Cale is gone. This body is mine now. It was a struggle I’ll admit. It took me almost a year to wrest this flesh away from its human soul. However, in the end, the man had enough hate in him to make the transition possible.”
“Hate?”
“Hate toward the woman who’d betrayed him, and hate for the man she betrayed him with.”
“Oh,” Dean said, for lack of anything more insightful. After all, the demon -- for he was fairly certain that was what he was talking to -- was basically right.
“However,” the creature gloated. “I have all of Cale’s memories as well as his physical body. Which means I have access to all of the Manticore secrets he’d at last successfully unlocked.”
“You made Max sick,” Dean said. “Not Logan. Which means you can make her well.”
The demon that had been Logan nodded once.
“And, of course there’s a price,” Dean said. “There’s always a price.”
“Three guesses as to what that price is,” the demon said.
“Got it in one,” Dean said easily, surprised to find that his trembling had stopped now that he was facing the inevitable. “Me. My life.”
“Wrong.”
Dean blinked.
“The price isn’t your life, little boy. It never was. If that was what I’d wanted I could have had you many times over before now. The price is something much more valuable than your tainted subhuman soul.”
“Subhuman?” Dean said, understanding but not really wanting to.
“You’re not totally human,” the creature said as it moved a step closer to the altar. “My price must be paid with a pure being, not one that’s part man, part cat.”
“Hey,” Dean said, feeling oddly indignant. “I’m mostly human.”
“The price is what it’s always been,” the demon said, its eyes flaming brightly now. “Not you, the chimera, but your brother.”
“Sam?” Dean said, the name coming out an octave too high. “Well, you can’t have him. I’m here now. Take me, and let Max live. One life for another.”
“No,” the creature said steadily. “Your brother’s life for your lover’s.”
“That’s an impossible choice,” Dean said quietly. “And one I won’t make. Besides,” he added. “Sam’s not pure either. Manticore messed with him too.”
“His gift outweighs the smallness of his impurity,” the demon said.
“Geez,” Dean exclaimed, rolling his eyes. “You guys always have your loopholes, don’t you? You make up your own rules.”
“Samuel Winchester has a gift that makes him worth a thousand other men,” the demon declared. “His blood will give me power beyond imagining.”
“And what am I?” Dean snarked. “Chopped liver? Hey, freely given sacrifice here. Don’t I at least count as a warrior? I thought warrior’s were valuable sacrifices ... almost as good as virgins ... not that I’m that ... a virgin ... but--”
“Shut up!” the creature in Logan Cale’s body commanded as those eyes flared fire.
The high verbal X5 swallowed hard, but complied.
“Your argument has merit,” the demon said. “A life freely given, even an inferior one, has value.”
“So,” Dean said. “Take me. Cure Max. And leave Sam alone.”
“I have a better plan than that,” the being chortled.
“What?”
“I’m going to have you both. Only then will your precious Max be cured.”
“Sam will never fall for it,” Dean said levelly. “He’s far away from here and has no idea where I am.”
“Oh, doesn’t he?” the creature said. “You don’t think that Sammy, gifted with his miraculous visions, hasn’t seen his beloved brother’s death?”
Dean’s breath caught in his throat as he realized the thing was probably right. Sam might very well know not only that he was in trouble, but exactly where he was. “No,” the young transgenic said quietly. “I won’t let you have him.”
“You,” the demon said as it waved a hand toward the altar where the metal shackles magically snapped open, “have no choice.”
Dean reached for the gun -- the only thing he could think to do -- but suddenly all he could see was fire, the thing that was inhabiting Logan’s body bursting into a white-hot inferno that forced him to cover his face and cower back, and he knew that Sam had been right all along. I never should have messed with evil.
*****
“Sam.”
The younger Winchester brother looked over at Max, and not for the first time thought how beautiful she was, and how lucky his brother was, not that the idiot would ever acknowledge it. “What?” he said quietly, looking back at the road before his glance became a stare.
“Is there anyone else in his life?”
“In Dean’s?”
She nodded.
“Whatdaya mean?”
“I mean ... it’s not like we’re exactly a couple. Oh, I know he isn’t celibate when we’re apart. Hell, I’m not either. But ... is there anyone he’s ... you know ... really connected with?”
Sam thought about a certain Cassie Robinson in Mississippi and chose his words carefully. He didn’t want to lie to Max but--
However, she’d already noticed. “Who is she?” she asked quietly. “Is he in love with her?”
“Dean’s in love with you,” Sam said adamantly. “At least right now.”
“Explain.” It was a command.
Sam bit down on his lower lip, choosing his words carefully as he negotiated a tricky curve on the narrow dark road. “I know he’s been in love a time or two before,” he finally said. “But I also know that’s in the past ... relationships that could never have worked.” He looked over at her again. It was beginning to rain and the droplets on the window were cast as small shadows on Max’s white face by the headlights of an oncoming car.
“Who is she?” Max asked. “Besides Rachel Berrisford I mean? I know some about Rachel. But there’s another?”
Sam shrugged. “Just an ordinary girl in an ordinary town with an ordinary job.”
“I envy her.”
“Why?”
“Not just for getting Alec to love her, but for being able to be ‘ordinary’.”
“Which is why you and my brother belong together, at least in the long run,” Sam chided gently. “With this other girl--”
“What’s her name? Did he ever tell you about Rachel, by the way? I’m betting he did.”
“I’m not going to tell you that, Max, who she is. And yes, I know about Rachel Berrisford. But now ... it’s not really your business. In fact, I shouldn’t be telling you this much. Dean though ... he told this other girl the truth about himself.”
“You mean about his eccentric pedigree?” Max asked with a little smile.
Sam’s brow drew down. Dean’s Manticore past wasn’t what he was thinking about. “No,” he corrected. “About his eccentric job -- the hunting.”
“Oh, that,” Max said, sighing. “And let me guess. The lady thought he was nuts.”
“Basically, yeah,” Sam said. “She thought Dean was making it all up as a reason to dump her, so she threw him out. But Max, that was a couple of years ago -- before Dean knew you had Brac. And you know the guy. He's sometimes all ’if you can't be with the one you love then love the one you're with.’”
“And Alec told you about this girl who broke his heart?”
Sam concentrated on the road, his grip on the steering wheel tightening.
“Sam?”
“I met her,” Sam finally admitted. “A little while back Cassie needed our help and Dean went to her.”
“How long ago?” Max asked tightly.
“Look,” Sam said, his voice taking on an edge. “My brother’s put up with you and Logan for ... forever. Don’t judge him because he took comfort in another woman’s arms for a little while when you couldn’t be there for him.”
Now it was Max’s turn to look away out the window. “Does he still love her?” she finally asked, her voice sounding like a little girl’s.
“Yeah,” Sam said honestly. “But I’m pretty sure not as much as he loves you ... one of his own kind.”
A sign flashed by on the road: Seattle 5 miles. Max tensed. “Take the next exit,” she suddenly said.
“But we’re heading for Canada.”
“No,” Max commanded, her voice excited. “Take the exit.”
“Why?”
“Because I just realized I do know where that place is that you drew. It looks familiar as in the Breeding Cult. I know where Alec went.”
*****
“Sam?”
“What.”
“What exactly did you see, in your vision?”
Sam looked over at Max. They’d parked the car on the road and walked back a long driveway. Now, they were staring up at an ancient stone building that looked about as deserted as it could be. “They cut out his heart,” Sam said in a low voice.
“What?” Max yelped.
“I said they cut out his heart,” Sam repeated harshly. “He was on an altar of some kind ... chained.”
“And you’re only now mentioning this?”
“Look,” Sam said. “I see things all the time. Sometimes they come true, and sometimes they don’t ... or at least I don’t know if they do. With Dean ... I really thought it might have just been a nightmare but--”
“--you know it wasn’t,” Max finished for him.
“I wanted you to be safe before I went looking for him,” Sam said quietly, looking away. “Dean would have wanted it that way.”
“Well, we’re here now,” Max said firmly. “What counts is that we find him in time.”
“Are you all right?” Sam asked, his brow drawing down with concern.
Max’s chin lifted a fraction. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”
“You know this place?”
“Yes,” she said, remembering her other adventure in this old building all those years ago. She glanced up at Sam. “He’ll be in the sub basement. There’s an altar there. Any guesses as to who our bad guy is?”
“Logan,” Sam said quietly. “Or at least what used to be Logan.”
*****
“What do you want with Sam?” Dean asked.
“His soul,” the creature replied blithely. “I thought we were already clear on that.”
The X5 strained against the handcuffs encircling his wrists, but to no avail. Shackled spread eagle on the stone altar, the rock hard and cold against his bare back, he was essentially helpless. The only bright spot to his embarrassing predicament was that he wasn't completely naked. The thing had stripped him of his shirt and jacket, but left his jeans on, apparently not into the more erotic aspects of human sacrifice. “And me?”
“Leverage. You’re the bargaining chip.”
A mocking smile. “You think my baby brother will sell his soul to the Devil to save me? Think again. Sam’s been taught better than that. Besides,” he added. “In a way, you might even be doin’ the kid a favor. Our relationship hasn’t exactly been sweetness and light lately.” He cocked an eyebrow. “What’s so special about Sammy anyway?”
“You really don’t know?” the creature said as Logan’s eyes widened behind the glasses. “After all this time your father never told you about your brother?”
“Told me what?” Dean asked sharply.
The demon shook its head. “And now you’ll die never knowing.”
“Tell me what?!” Dean shouted as the thing turned its back on him. “What about Sam?!”
The creature walked to a table on the side of the musty smelling room and picked something up. Dean saw the flash of steel ... a blade ... and the hair on the back of his neck prickled just above his disguised bar code.
“They’re here,” it said quietly, looking toward the stone steps that led up to the house above.
“Who’s here?” Dean demanded.
“My Sammy,” it said gently, sounding eerily affectionate. It looked back over its shoulder to the man on the sacrificial stone. “And she’s with him.”
Dean closed his eyes, for a moment not breathing, as he realized the implications. Max. Sammy, for the love of God why did you have to bring Max?
“She can still be cured, you know,” the creature teased.
“How?”
“I think you know. You’ve already experienced what it feels like for one life to be exchanged for another.”
A thought occurred to Dean, and he narrowed his eyes. “Sam has to come with you willingly, doesn’t he? That’s the catch. That’s why you want me. That’s why you did this to Max.”
“You’re going to have to choose, Alec,” it said, those blue eyes coldly assessing him as it thumbed the tip of the knife blade. “Convince Sam to give himself to me, and Max will be cured. Fight me, and she dies a lingering death.”
“And what about me?” Dean asked through gritted teeth. “Where does the slab of meat fit into the equation.”
The thing laughed softly, the effect all the more eerie because it really was Logan’s laugh. “Either way, I need the heart of a warrior to complete the process.”
“I suppose I should be flattered,” Dean replied, with difficulty keeping his voice level. “My life for hers. That’s a no brainer. You’ve already got a deal there. But leave Sam out of it. Sam goes free. None of this soul taking shit. Kill me. Cure Max. End of discussion.”
“No,” the creature replied adamantly.
“And if I don’t ... talk Sam into this deal?”
“Then you and Max will still die,” it said. “And I’ll obtain his soul in another way. Oh, it will be more difficult, but somehow I think that watching the beating heart being cut out of his brother’s chest will go a long way toward putting Sam on the road to eternal damnation. He won’t ever be able to forget what he sees. It might take awhile, but sooner or later his anger, guilt, and thirst for revenge will consume him. You think he’s in a bad place now because of the way I killed his beloved Jessica? Well, Alec ... what do you think Sam’s reaction will be to seeing this knife plunged into his brother’s chest? The only difference will be that your life will have ended for nothing except as a means to torment Sammy. My way, at least your life force will save the woman you love.”
“Max’s life in exchange for Sam’s soul, and I still get gutted?” Dean said matter-of-factly. “No deal.”
“How about a new deal?” a familiar voice said loudly from the doorway.
Dean’s head jerked around and his heart leaped, then fell. “Sam!” he said loudly. “Get outta here! Take Max and run!”
“Not without you!” the younger Winchester brother shouted right back.
“Logan!” Max exclaimed. “Logan, don’t do this!”
“It’s not Logan,” Dean said, his voice cracking as he pulled as hard as he could on the chains. “It hasn’t been Logan for a very long time.”
The creature’s eyes flamed yellow, proving Dean’s point, and Max gasped. “Where is he?” she said. “Where’s Logan?”
“Consumed,” Sam answered. “This thing got a foothold inside of him and now there’s nothing left of the man you knew as Logan Cale.”
“Alec?” Max whimpered, taking a step toward him.
“He’s right, Max,” Dean declared. “Run. Run while you can.”
“I won’t leave you!”
“And neither will I!” Sam said.
“Very well,” the thing chuckled. “I guess we’ll do this the hard way.” In a move too swift for the human eye to follow, it turned, raised the knife, and plunged it downward toward Dean’s chest.
Too swift for the human eye to follow ... but not too swift for a transgenic.
With the sound of a loud snap, the chain around Dean’s right hand broke and in a blur of motion he caught Logan’s wrist, stopping the blade just inches from his heaving chest. Grimacing with pain, he used every ounce of his X5 strength to keep the knife at bay, gaining the precious few seconds needed. And then Sam was on top of the creature, pulling it backwards, away from its victim.
Sam, however, was no match for demonic strength. Whirling, the thing threw the young man through the air and crashing into the wall. “You can’t save him,” it hissed. “I’ll have your precious brother. And it’s all your fault!”
“Sam!” Dean screamed as he fought to free himself from the rest of his restraints. Helpless, he looked toward Max.
Her mouth set in a grim line, every inch of her voluptuous figure trembling with rage, the female X5 set her sights on the thing that was intent on destroying the man (the men) she loved. “Fuck you!” she screamed, leaping like a cat across the room and landing on top of the demon. “Fuck you to hell!”
X5-452 had never been truly trained as an assassin. However, that didn’t mean she didn’t know how to kill. With a warrior’s cry, she wrenched the knife out of the creature’s hand, and plunged the blade home.
Gasping, not believing what had just happened, the flames in the demon’s eyes flared as it looked up at her in astonishment. And then that fire died down, replaced by the normal blue of a human’s gaze. “Max?” Logan rasped, gurgling as a trickle of blood ran out of the corner of his mouth. “Max, what’s happening? Where am I? What’s--” He looked down at himself ... at the knife imbedded in his body. “Max?” he plaintively begged as his eyes closed and he fell to the floor.
“Logan?” she whispered in a horrified tone. “Logan--”
“Max, get away from him!” Sam yelled as he got to his feet, bruised and battered but not seriously injured.
The body was beginning to glow ... to heat up.
“Logan?” Max wailed, throwing herself onto the floor beside him.
“Get her out of here!” Dean screamed as he continued trying to free himself. “Both of you get out!”
The body was beginning to combust ... the glow becoming hot, the glare more blinding as the demon within began to emerge in its true form.
“Get out!” Dean yelled at the top of his voice. “Leave me!”
“Dean!” Sam cried, as he moved to the altar and also yanked futilely at the chains. But then the younger brother saw something lying on the wooden table at the side of the room -- a key.
It took only seconds to free his brother, but even in that short amount of time Logan’s body had been totally consumed by demonic fire that was spreading just like the fire had spread from their mother’s body on the ceiling.
Leaping off the altar, Dean grabbed Max’s hand, and together the three turned their backs on the horror and ran for the door. They’d just made it into the corridor when the explosion behind them erupted, turning the hallway into a white hot inferno. Dean couldn’t breath ... couldn’t see ... He felt like he was being burned alive, but he didn’t let go of Max’s hand, and he didn’t stop moving. And then they turned another corner and the heat began to diminish. “Everyone all right?” he rasped, turning to see that Sam was just behind him.
“We’re here,” his brother panted. He looked back over his shoulder at what was essentially a furnace behind them. “But we’ve got to get out of this building.”
Dean nodded, and still holding onto Max’s hand, ran for the stairs with Sam following right on his heels.
*****
“What were you thinking?”
Dean had heard that line before from Max -- too many times in fact. This time -- quite honestly -- he didn’t know how to answer her. He hung his head. “I knew the only way to help you was to fight fire with fire, so to speak,” he mumbled. “Evil with evil.” He looked up at her where she was sitting on the edge of the exam table in Dr. Carr’s office. Dressed only in a paper gown, she was shivering, and he wanted to take her in his arms. However, the accusing look in her eyes warned him off.
“It might have worked,” Dean offered in response to her silence. Brown eyes narrowed. “Well it might!”
“Dad would have a fit,” Sam pointed out -- yet again, “if he knew you tried making use of the very thing we were trained to destroy.”
“Hey!” Dean snapped. “I came close. That thing was willing to take my life to give Max back hers -- just like that Reaper we ran into down south ... the one who saved me.”
“At the expense of an innocent person’s soul,” Sam said sternly, as if speaking to a backwards child.
“I know,” Dean said, biting off the words bitterly. “Don’t think I don’t. I still wonder why I got to live and that guy ... didn’t.”
“What are you talking about?” Max asked wearily.
“Just a job,” Dean said his voice equally tired and closing his eyes as he leaned back in the chair. Dr. Carr had taken blood samples from all three of them and they were awaiting the results ... to see if Max’s illness had progressed or if either he or Sam had contracted it. He cocked an eyebrow in Sam’s direction. “But I almost was there, Sam. I proved it can be done. There are ways to force the evil bastards to do what we want ‘em to.”
“Force them to kill you?” Sam snorted. “Yeah, right. Real smart plan, bro.”
“I’d die for you Max, no problem,” Dean declared, sitting up straighter in the chair and pinning her with a hard look. “Well, it would be a problem, but I'd still do it ... probably. I owe you my life a few times over, and it’s my fault you’re in this mess anyway. But--” His gaze turned to Sam. “I couldn’t sacrifice you, Sammy. Not even for her. That just wouldn’t be fair. Max and me ... our dramas ... they aren’t yours.”
“Do you think that thing that took over Logan was the same thing that killed Mom and Jess?” Sam asked, bringing up the question that no one had wanted to ask yet.
Dean shrugged. “Gut feeling ... yeah. I think it was. But what I’d like to know is why it’s got such a hard-on about you, Sam. I know you’re special and all with your dreams and visions, but this thing has been after you since you were a baby. I mean, it was in your nursery where it all happened in the beginning, and then it came back after your girlfriend. And it wanted you in that cellar. Me, it just wanted dead, after I talked you into tradin’ your soul for Max’s life of course.” He thought about that a minute and a ghost of a smile graced full lips. “Should I feel slighted?”
“You should feel lucky,” Sam said grimly. “And no, I have no idea why it wants me so badly. Maybe that thing feeds off of people with extrasensory capabilities.”
Dean nodded. It was a possibility, and at the moment even a vague explanation was better than none.
The exam room door opened and Dr. Carr came in, chart in hand. One look at the doctor’s face and Dean knew the news wasn’t good. “Spit it out,” he said huskily. “And in layman’s terms, please.”
“Max’s illness is progressing rapidly,” Dr. Carr said quietly. He glanced down at the paperwork in the folder.
“And Dean?” Sam asked.
The doctor shook his head. He’s fine ... for now.” A stern look at the transgenic couple. “But I’ll repeat. Don’t be intimate.”
“Water under the bridge,” Dean said levelly. “So, I’m clean?”
“Yes,” Dr. Carr replied.
“And me?” Max said tightly, speaking up for the first time.
“Two weeks at best,” Dr. Carr said. “I’m sorry, Max.
“What about Sam?” Dean asked quietly. “Is he infected?”
“No,” the doctor said. “Not yet. But I don’t know that he’s immune. He probably shouldn’t be around Max. In fact, she should be in isolation.”
“Not gonna happen,” Dean said softly. “We all need to be free to find a way out of this mess.”
“What way?” Sam said, his voice oddly emotionless. “If black magic didn’t work then what will?”
“Science,” Max said firmly. “Science made this bug I have, not magic. And science will help me.” She looked at Dean. “We need to find him. He’s my only hope. I knew I’d one day regret letting the bastard go. Mole warned me, but I just didn’t want him around, and guarding him was too much trouble.”
“I know,” Dean agreed.
“Find who?” Dr. Carr asked. “Who do you think can help you?”
“Lydecker,” Max said quietly. “If anyone knows where we can get help for this it will be him.” She glanced over at Dean. “You’re gonna hafta crawl back to him ... beg his forgiveness. He’s really pissed at you for what you did, and none too pleased with me either, not to mention the fact we pretty much single-handedly destroyed his base of operations. I haven’t heard from him since we let him go, but I’m pretty sure Dix can find him. Last I heard, he was still building a transgenic army to rival Stendahl’s group.”
Dean took a deep breath and studied the far wall of the exam room, jaw clenched. “I won’t beg,” he finally said. “I won’t.”
“Then Max will die.” Sam said quietly. “Damn it, Dean, forget your pride just this once and do what has to be done. Go to the man, say you’re sorry, and ask for his help. Or do you want to try witchcraft again?”
“He kidnapped you to try and force me to kill someone!” Dean yelled, raising his voice at last.
“Which you didn’t do in the end,” Sam returned. “You didn’t kill Logan, and I’m fine.”
Dean gave his brother points for not rubbing it in that if he’d completed Lydecker’s mission back then, none of them would be in this predicament now. Then he looked hard at Max. Her eyes met his, and he read her decision in their dark depths. She’d made up her mind, and all he could do was go along with her decision. “All right,” he said, his voice deep and low. “We find ‘Deck. We ask for his help. And ...” He swallowed hard. “I’ll beg if I have to.”
TO BE CONTINUED ...
