Hunter of the Shadows Book 3: Enemy at the Door Chapter 1, a supernatural fanfic

Hunter of the Shadows Book 3

Enemy at the Door.

Author's Foreword:

Welcome one and all to the final part of Hunter of the Shadows.

The action kicks off right from the first chapter, which pretty much starts almost where we left our boys at the end of book 2, and there may well be some stunning revelations as the story progresses. More new OCs will be introduced along the way, as the boys' journey reaches its conclusion.

Oodles of Limp Sam await you, so I really hope the long 'verse hiatus will be worth your while.

Very special thanks goes out to my new beta, Ash48, who very kindly stepped in when my last beta decided to pull out, due to artistic differences.

Thanks a million babe, I couldn't have done it without all your support and encouragement.

Please note: It is essential to have read Let the Red Mist Descend, the missing Christmas story to the first book, before you embark on this one. It's only a one shot and not too long, so don't panic!

Beta's Foreword:
I think I nearly fell off my chair when Skag Trendy emailed me to see if I'd be interested in reading the drafts of Hunter of the Shadow Book 3. I leapt at the opportunity (of course!) because I have been dyingto read the next instalment. I have been a big fan of this 'verse and I was very keen to see what direction the saga would continue in.

And I have to say, I wasn't disappointed. The third instalment widens this amazing universe and adds to the epic nature of the story. We are introduced to some wonderful characters, given some startling background information, are wrapped up in an intriguing mystery and, of course, are allowed to wallow in some delicious hurt!Sam, along with some of the heart warming brother moments that this 'verse is known for.

I admit to feeling a little out of my depth as a fic beta, but ST has graciously allowed me to 'give it a go' and I have had an enormous amount of fun doing so.

I'm sure you'll love this instalment as much as I have.

Regards,

Ash48.

Warning:

Bad language, kidnapping, drugging, blood, guts, etc. The usual crap you've come to expect from me.

Please feel free to read the glossary below if you just need a bit of reminding about characters and terminology.

If not, then just skip ahead to the beginning of the chapter...

Glossary

As recommended by my beta reader.

Species: Non-lunar werewolves.

Classification: Type Two.

Characters: Tobius Le Salle, Dean Winchester, and Sam Winchester.

All three are huge; they come up above the waist of your average human when on all fours. Think of the size of a Newfoundland and add a couple of inches. Also, they have huge paws, like the size of sandwich plates!

They are all also of the long-haired variety; if you've ever seen a long haired German Shepherd, you'll get some idea. Their tails are long, thick and shaggy and have often been used throughout the stories to wrap around each other as a comfort blanket.

Their eyes also glow, practically all the time.

As with grey wolves, these three are openly affectionate to each other and often snuggle up in wolf, or human form, for warmth or comfort. While in wolf form, there is lots of sniffing and nibbling of ears, checking for fleas, and rubbing up against each other when one of them shows signs of stress or anxiety. This affection is readily given and received without an ounce of embarrassment since it comes naturally to their wolf-pack nature, in spite of how Dean and Sam might have felt about it before they became werewolves.

So, onto distinctive colourings/markings, and I'll throw in a few characters traits for you.

Tobius is the proud, wise pack Alpha and is therefore the largest. At over eight hundred years old, he is black and tan, with a head the size of a lion and huge fangs. His eyes glow a deep forest green.

He is a bit of a mystery, and his long distant, and sometimes not so distant, past is gradually uncovered during the course of the 3 books, but especially so in the final book, where some massive and potentially damaging revelations take place.

Born in the province of Anjou in France, he remembers watching the young knights heading off to fight in the Crusades.

He was reputed to have been living in London during the Great Fire of London in 1666, fought the Germans at the Normandy Landings, and admitted to having been Officer Commanding the 22nd SAS regiment during the 1960s.

But after a long, interesting and not always happy existence, Tobius has hinted at retiring, not just from the hunt but from his status as Alpha, with the intention of passing the torch onto Dean.

In human form, I would cast Hugh Jackman in this role.

Dean is Tobius' son, by virtue of having been turned by Tobius when he was in his late teens.

He is the next largest in size and in book three he is only a few weeks away from his 'prime' (This is like a rite of passage. When a werewolf hits their quarter century they are no longer considered to be a child or 'pup' and they are usually at their largest and strongest. The prime is also when the werewolf stops growing older).

His role is the pack Beta, or bodyguard.

He refers to Tobius by his name, or as 'Sire', or occasionally 'Father'. He never calls him 'Dad'.

In wolf form he is pitch black, no speckles, no variation of tones, just black so deep that when the light catches it, it almost gleams blue. His eyes are a deep, sparkling emerald green. As with all non-lunars, he is as handsome in wolf form as he is in human.

A fierce warrior and protector, Dean is a driven pack Beta who seems to be slowly opening up to the issue of his future. There have been remarks, hints and suggestions made along the way by various characters that he will one day ascend to pack Alpha.

Indeed, he has already proven himself worthy of such a role in the eyes of his Sire.

Most importantly, his honour and loyalty to friends and family is beyond doubt, and may sometimes blind him to their faults, but not for long. He usually figures things out for himself, but finds comfort when his pack backs him up.

Finally, if Dean is said to dote on his Sire and Father, it is nothing compared to his love and affection for the youngest member of their pack.

Sam is the youngest and therefore the most protected, to his steadily mounting frustration.

He starts out in the beginning as Dean's very human little brother, but at the age of 15 is turned by Dean in order to save his life after being shot by John Winchester. By non-lunar lore, Sam becomes Dean's son, but out of respect to their previous sibling relationship they refer to each other as brotherson (Sam), and fatherbrother (Dean). In many ways, they are still like siblings, but their relationship becomes far stronger than that.

It is also the most unique relationship in the Were world, because no other werewolves have been able to turn a human sibling, due to a deadly rejection at the genetic level. There is some speculation in the second book that the reason it was possible was because Sam was infected with demon blood as a baby. But book three might offer another theory on that.

Dean's act of saving his life, of course, also makes Sam grandson to Tobius.

Sam has the most unusual of colourings. This becomes apparent as the stories progress, and becomes especially noted in the second book by the Alpha of another pack. He is rather embarrassed about being so different and often ducks his head shyly when it is remarked upon. His fur is a deep burnished gold, or autumn red, and looks much like a Red Setter would look if it had the large pointy ears of a German Shepherd.

But his eyes, which are a most unusual shade, glow a deep, sea blue-green, and this makes a startling contrast against such a red coat. To the knowledge of many of the non-lunars we meet throughout the three books, there are no other wolves with Sam's colouring in existence, though there may be some speculation about it later in the final book.

Sam has been considered the pack 'trainee' in the past, but has already made a name for himself as a highly intelligent and protective hunter. Like Dean, he will fight to the death for his loved ones, but in the past he has displayed a nasty tendency to jump straight in without thinking, often with horrific consequences.

It is felt by Dean and Tobius that once he grows out of this, he will make a superb pack Beta.

The Home Pack is a nomadic pack of wolves that befriend the boys during their travels in book 2. It later emerges that the Home Pack Alpha is old friends with Tobius.

Lucas is the Home Pack's Alpha, a gruff but good natured Scot with a love of life, food, travel and a mild distain of the outside 'human' world.

Victoria (sometimes known as Vicki) is Lucas' life mate, mother to his pups, and the former pack beta. She gave up the beta seat because of her love of her pups and her extensive culinary skills.

Cornelius is the Home Pack Beta. He was rescued from humans as a pup by Lucas and Vicki, but cannot thought project due to permanent damage – he was tortured by his human captors with silver. His friendship with Sam and Dean started off a little shaky, but he soon became firm friends with them both, especially Sam. He even helped Sam overcome some of his own issues resulting from captivity by humans and silver torture, though those conversations will remain strictly between the two of them.

Species: Non-lunar werewolves.

Classification: Type One.

Characterisation: These non-lunars easily match the Type Twos for strength. However, they are also narcissistic, psychotic and violent, and lack emotions or the ability to empathise.

Their dangerous nature is reflected in their glowing, cherry red eyes, an eye colour which, so far as the books know, remains peculiar to Type Ones.

They care little for Type Twos and don't care at all for humans.

Their biggest asset is their extraordinary ability to interfere with the thought projections of other non-lunars. This is mostly a subconscious action, but they do exhibit some limited control over it.

The Human hunters are also quite important in this story. Bobby Singer and Pastor Jim Murphy have known the boys most of their lives. Though they take part in some video entries, their main appearance is often in later chapters, where they are needed most.

Werebears Jose, Gerald and their daughter Janaya-Maria, and, since book 2, their son, Andy Gallagher, are the werebear family that are effectively Tobius' neighbours. They live a few miles away from Tobius' cabin.

Good natured, loyal, charming, if a little clumsy, the werebears have proven very useful and strong in battle.

Oodles of Limp Sam await you, so I really hope the long 'verse hiatus will be worth your while.

Here we go, boys and girls, and hold onto your knickers;

The road's about to get bumpy...

Chapter 1

Now…

The red wolf is curled up on the sofa, head draped across Dean's denim-clad knees, staring intently at the large TV panel fixed to the wall above the red brick fireplace.

His snout twitches a little and he yawns widely, followed by a slow, lazy lick around his chops. He huffs out a contented sigh. Even though Dean is clearly fast asleep, his hand continues to gently scratch behind the red wolf's ears.

Scream 3 is the movie of interest, and the moment Randy, Sydney Prescott's one time best friend and murder victim from the second film, appears on screen, Sam blinks slowly then tenses up. Randy appears as part of his own video message, and his last words to Sydney have a profound affect on the young wolf….

"…true trilogies are all about going back to the beginning and discovering something that wasn't true from the get go. God Father, Jedi… all revealed something that we thought was true, but wasn't…"

Sam's eyes widen, not in fear as such, more in understanding; he's obviously one of the few in the world who really gets it.

"… the past will come back to bite you in the ass…"

Sam lifts his massive head, dislodging his fatherbrother's hand, and incidentally waking him.

"Sammy? You ok?" Dean yawns then frowns. "Dude, you're shaking…"

Sam ignores him for the moment, just carries on listening to Randy's posthumous wisdom.

"Anything you thought you knew about the past? Forget it! The past is not at rest! Any sins you think were committed in the past are about to break out and destroy you."

Understanding dawns on Dean like the early morning sun.

"Aw, Sammy," he gently grabs Sam's muzzle and turns to stare deep into the young wolf's eyes. Dean is obviously hearing something the camera doesn't pick up, because he nods, smile a little sad. "Yeah, I know. But it doesn't change a thing, dude. You're still my boy..."

Sam snuffles into Dean's hand and whimpers gratefully.

…bleep…bleep…bleep…

"Out of memory" appears on camera, along with a low battery alert.

Dean's head jerks up immediately. "Dammit! Must've left it switched on all night," he grins sheepishly at Sam. "Maybe now we finally have evidence Tobius snores, and howls in his sleep!" He chuckles when Sam woofs softly in agreement, and the atmosphere is lifted. "Yeah, and scratches himself…"

"I heard that!" is growled from off screen, presumably coming from the other end of the room. "And for the hundredth time I do not snore!"

"Sure ya don't," Dean cockily replies. "But you do scratch..."

"Would you like a rendition of your own more... unsavoury habits, pup?" Tobius drawls, smugness abound. "Or should I say Mr Skidmarks?"

"Dude! That was a forest deer with the runs and you know it! And besides," Dean looks mildly uncomfortable, then mumbles: "Thought you were all the discreet gentleman type 'bout that crap."

"Should I pardon that particular pun?" Tobius mumbles, half to himself then, with a snort from off camera, continues "Until I met you, yes. Then years later I ran out of discreet and only had sheer crass to work with."

"Ouch!" Dean grins, good-naturedly, scratches his chest and stands up. He stretches his back with a loud crack! then swaggers his way over to the camera. "Now…" he fiddles with a new memory stick, there's a click as he slots it in place, and the memory warning disappears.

But the battery is another issue. Dean tsks softly, and then hooks up some kind of cable, followed by more clicks and clunks, and crouches back on his heels, smiling broadly.

"Just gotta charge this baby up, and we're ready to roll…" he reaches out to the top of the camera "But for now…TTFN ."

Click.

The screen goes blank.

Click.

It's fuzzy for a moment, then...

Dean grins widely into the lens.

"Welcome back, guys. Hope you're all doing ok," he leans forward and clasps his hands between his knees. "So, latest is this. After one hell of a battle, Sam fought Jake, got stabbed in the heart with a silver sword, and nearly died. Sire managed to remove the silver by…" he winces slightly, and his eyes darken. "Cutting open Sam's chest and restarting his heart. Anyway, it saved his life but the silver took his sight." Dean clicks his tongue. "But that wasn't the only issue." He stares at the screen and takes a deep breath. "Ready for this? Apparently, it wasn't some sick cosmic joke at our expense, but John Winchester really was back from the dead, as a demon, and he was coming for us."

His smile has turned grim.

"So we left the Home Pack pretty much as soon as Sam was well enough, and hit the road," he leans forward, green eyes aglow and something about the expression on his face might send a shiver down the digital watcher's spine. "But we were never going to be safe. Hell's spies were everywhere…"

Then…

Sam, eat your food.

M'not hungry.

Don't care, eat your food, dammit!

Sam sighed heavily and picked up his fork.

I couldn't blame the poor kid. Even blind, he could sense the curious stares from the other diner patrons and it made him visibly uncomfortable.

Don't worry Sammy. We're leaving just before sunup.

Not a moment too soon, you ask me, he mumbled.

This was a back-woods town out in the middle of nowhere, almost completely off the grid, as it were, so its residents were unaccustomed to meeting someone with special needs. That honestly hadn't occurred to me until we stepped out of the guest house door and started our trek down the main street in search of food. People stopped and gazed at us for a few minutes, with no hint of animosity, then once they'd satisfied their curiosity they carried on with whatever chores or tasks our arrival had interrupted.

This was our second town in as many days and we were getting tetchy. But at least we hadn't been attacked... yet.

Unlike the first one...

The owner of that particular guest house was an elderly lady who smelled strongly of lavender. She had a kind, sweet smile, and had taken one look at Sam, his eyes covered in dark shades, hand clutching at my seeing-eye-dog harness, and hurriedly booked us in.

She'd cooed over Sam first off, then with a bit of encouragement and proof that I wasn't likely to eat her, she began cooing over me.

I sensed Sire's amusement, caught the slight eye-roll as the lady ruffled my fur and placed a gentle kiss on my snout, then she disappeared into a room out back and returned bare moments later carrying the left-overs of a roast dinner.

"Such a hard working, helpful dog surely deserves a treat now and then?" her statement carried an obvious question mark at the end as she glanced between Sam and me. "It's all healthy, made it myself?"

Ohhhh boy.

Beef, roasted in honey and mustard, with roast potatoes, cold but still dripping with gravy, lovely chunks of slightly crispy fat still clinging to the meat. I sniffed and whined softly, glancing up at Sam, awaiting the go ahead, the slight nod that told any humans present Sam was the boss. He was in control.

"Go ahead, boy, don't insult the lady by turning it down," said Sam, fondly, though with a faint hint of sarcasm in his tone.

"Woof!" You're just jealous!

Shutup and eat. I'm tired. Sam reached up, rubbed at his eyes behind the dark lenses, and barely stifled a yawn.

Kid was a little snappy, but that was understandable given the long car journey, those long legs all scrunched up for hours on end. We were all fed up with our present circumstances, on edge, in need of a break and a hunt, but Sam especially had a great deal on his mind. The loss of his girlfriend, being stabbed in the heart by silver and subsequently blinded in human form, and now we were on the run from our demonic ex-Dad…

...and I don't think I need to tell you how pissed Sam was about that.

Kid wanted to seek him out and confront him head on. Can't really blame him for that either, I guess, but Sire was right. We weren't ready.

I sniffed mournfully at the food one last time, licked the old lady's hand in thanks, and turned away.

I know. Sorry kiddo. Wasn't thinking…

Sam stopped me with a hand on my harness. "Go on, boy."

No, I'm sorry. I was being a selfish brat. Your prime is only a few weeks away and you desperately need your food, now. Go ahead Dean, please? For me?

Tobius, who had remained in the background up 'til now, stepped in.

"Take my arm, Sam," Tobius nodded and smiled at the guest house owner. "We'll let Dean eat his treat in peace whilst I get you comfortable in our room. How's that sound?"

I wagged my tail.

Sam nodded and gently squeezed my neck. "Don't eat too fast, Dean, or you'll make yourself sick," he mumbled, wearily, and raised a small, affectionate –apologetic- smile just for me.

Thanks guys.

The two of them shuffled off after the old lady, who was brandishing our room keys and telling Sire that she'd take good care of me.

I was ready, able, and willing to plough into my food, but being a wolf it's a habit to play a little. It's not as gross or surprising as it sounds. It's already dead so half the fun's been taken out of it, right? So, I sometimes like to play.

I snuffled around the edge of the platter, huffing and snorting menacingly.

Yeah. You ain't getting away from me...mooboy!

I pounced downwards, teeth bared in a snarl and sniffing furiously at the gravy out of habit.

And lucky for me I did, because I smelled something... strange. Another good sniff around the plate had me backing away, and racing down the hall towards my family. Bitch had poisoned the food with silver. It was heavily disguised but not quite enough to fool me.

I got there just in time to see the old biddy standing behind Sire, smile turning feral and her eyes rolling black. A flash of silver, as a blade was revealed from a roll of lavender oil-scented fabric, had me leaping into action at the same time Sire spun around, teeth bared and snout elongating, ready for the attack.

But Sam suddenly shot forward, stood in Sire's path and grabbed the demon by the upper arms, pushing it up against the bedroom wall. He gave a sharp squeeze to the woman's hand, and the knife thudded harmlessly to the carpet.

"Who sent you?" he growled, unseeing eyes narrowed angrily. When the demon just grinned insanely Sam seemed to sense its insolence and gave it a rough shake. "Who?"

Sammy, easy there, huh? The host ain't no spring chicken, I informed him, slinking forward fully into the room.

Sam seemed to calm down a little but didn't relax his grip. Tobius, in human form but fangs still on show, hovered protectively over the kid's shoulder.

"I'll ask you again," Sam hissed. "And I'll be getting an answer this time, or I'll send you right back where you came from. Something tells me you know I can do it, too."

That seemed to loosen the demon's tongue, but that unnerving grin never faltered.

"You know," it whispered, little old lady's voice now creeped-up a few notches, corrupted by eons of sin and evil. "You know who sent us, who seeks you out even now…" the demon strained against Sam's grip and the neck suddenly stretched unnaturally until its face was a hair's breadth from Sam's.

"He'll find you," it continued, tongue rolling in a mouth full of saliva. "Already he senses you, is drawn to you, like a moth to a flame." Quick as a snake, the tongue darted out and marked a bloody slash up Sam's cheek bone.

Sam, gasping and swearing, shoved the demon away from him and wiped the blood off with the back of his hand. The demon, however, licked its lips, moaning with ecstasy.

"You taste delicious young Winchester," it cackled loudly, then shot a ferocious glare my way. "And you! You got lucky this time, the both of you," the glare was redirected at Tobius who shrugged, unconcerned with the obvious threat. "Watch your backs, doggies. Once you're out of the way, Sam will be ripe for the picking." The demon made some sick, sucking and slithering noises with its tongue. "There'll be no stopping John Winchester once he has you, Sammy. Do you want to know what he'll do to you?"

"Fuck you! Where is he?" Sam demanded, recovered from the demon's assault.

Impatient when the demon didn't answer quickly enough, he held up a hand palm outwards and his eyes began to glow.

It fought hard, bucking and writhing. The blackness within the elderly woman's body held tight, gasping and choking on itself. But Sam refused to relent, just upped the wattage a little more.

"You want to return to hell?" he roared, rolling his palm into fist. "Tell me where he is!"

Still no answer, just a deep chuckle that turned into creepy raucous laughter.

Sam finished the job.

Within seconds the floor was a mass of swirling black clouds and fiery sparks as the demon smoked out, leaving the poor old girl a crying, quivering mess in Tobius' arms.

Thankfully, she was in shock but physically unharmed.

Our gallantry earned us free lodgings at the owner's insistence, and under the utmost secrecy. We would stay in town for one night only, just for Sammy to rest up, and the following morning we'd be gone, high-tailing it away, leaving the guest house swamped with wards and protection symbols. There was no telling how long the lady would live after something so physically and emotionally draining, but we couldn't leave her without a fighting chance.

It was at this point Tobius contacted Bobby, and after some discussion it was confirmed that our present course was no longer safe or fit for purpose. We were to head away from all that was familiar and comforting if we wanted to keep our friends safe.

But our encounter with the guest house demon had truly rattled our cages.

And it was just the beginning…

TBC

So far there are 19 completed chapter to this story, with the promise of more, so!

C'mon everyone. Start clicking that review button.

You make sure all my hard work has been worth it

and I might even consider posting the next chapter very very soon...

Hope you all had a wonderful Christmas, and here's wishing you a Happy New Year.