DISCLAIMER: Supernatural and its characters belong to Eric Kripke.

CLAIMER: I do own Reyna Wynters.

Chapter #1: Rough Night

Everything that happens in life is connected. Most of the time we don't even realize it. Some that believe in destiny or fate say that those events link you to something if you do them correctly. If you are destined to accomplish something, have something, or even meet someone, then you have to feel ordained, and make the right choices. Only the select few that get everything right witness the wonders of what follows. Now, the outcomes aren't always happy like one would like. Dire things can happen for those links. People are connected to each other depending on their personality and what choices they make—how they use their mind. Even the most opposite and dissimilar of people can be connected by a single occurrence—accidental or planned. You can be linked to someone even if something happens that wasn't supposed to. But everyone is connected to someone, situation good... or bad.

Her eyes bulged open, the ragged, rough breath of air filling her chilled lungs so abruptly that it caused her to fall into a miniature coughing fit. Air never tasted so sweet. Her hands shot out to her sides, stopping short when they came in contact with a hard, cold, metal surface.

What…? She shivered. It's freezing…. Everything around her was pitch black, giving a grave-like sensation that she did not welcome in the slightest. Along the edges of whatever was enclosing her was a faint light, but when she tried pushing on the walls and ceiling nothing would budge.

By now, her eyes were beginning to adjust to the confining darkness, and she was able to see the beginning outlines of her surroundings. Her hand absentmindedly reached up to run her fingers through her dark hair. She was still short of breath as her brain began whirring through every possible explanation for what was going on, forest green eyes wide and alert. Then it hit her. It hit her that she was indeed breathing. She was alive.

But how?

The unpleasant memories of being bashed in the skull resurfaced in her mind, and she grimaced as if she tasted something sour. She remembered the pain that had erupted through her cranium, and the contemptuous tone of her attacker-her ex-in the background. Marcus. She sneered, the name tasting bitter against her silent tongue. She squeezed her eyes shut and let out a suppressed sound of distress as her brain seemed to literally pulsate as it injected more images into her vision. All she could recall during those few seconds was her ex hitting her and his partner's grinning, jagged-toothed face…. She paused then, eyes snapping open once more as her anger immediately built up like a teapot ready to blow.

How could she have allowed herself to drop guard? A sigh of aggravation escaped her lips as she lifted an arm up to feel for a ceiling, which was just as cold and hard as the rest of her claustrophobic enclosure. Where am I? She paused, thinking it over. Had they known she wasn't dead and locked her up somewhere? The thought alone terrified her. She tried to wrap her mind around the situation, but she couldn't come up with an explanation, and there was this depthless chill that seemed to freeze her straight to the bone marrow.

Suddenly, there was a hitch in her breathing when she heard what sounded like a rusted door screeching open, and despite herself she released a breath of relief at realizing she had not, in fact, been buried alive. Silently, she listened as a pair of footsteps thudded quietly through the room, muscles tensing in preparation to spring as they moved ever closer to her enclosure. Then, they stopped, and she became alert when they tapped on the top of her cage. Squinting, she glanced up towards the dim light near her feet, and she waited a moment, pondering her options. Either it was someone there to help, or it was Marcus. The later was the most probable. It was a hesitant move, but she decided that even if it were a creature, Marcus, or Death himself it was enough for her. Just to see someone else would be a comfort. Hell, it could even be Lucifer. She tapped back with her foot.

Suddenly, something jerked, her head hit the top of the metal box, and she hissed in pain. The sliding proceeded until she found herself suddenly exposed to the light; and she was met with an all too familiar face about an inch from her own. Marcus. She opened her mouth to scream; however, she was muzzled when his hand smothered her mouth.

"Wakey, wakey," he chimed sadistically, and his expression grew something sinister. "Time to finish what we started, whore. I just wanted you conscious first."

It took her a split second to react, eyes flying wide. She only had one shot. She needed to make it count. Without thinking, her leg shot straight upwards, and she was rewarded with a sickening crunch when her steel-toed boot made direct contact with his chin. A shout of pain was her reward, and she took the distraction as her chance. Scrambling to her feet, she jumped down to the floor and came back around with a precisely-aimed side kick to his face. Bright crimson spurted from his nose as he stumbled backwards and landed on the floor with a shout, hand gripping his nose and chin as bright red seeped between his fingers.

"SON OF A—!"

She leapt at him viciously, pinning him to the floor as she straddled his stomach. She grabbed his wallet from his pocket, but before she made her leave she stomped down on his face with her boot. His body fell still, head lolling limply to the side as blood dripped from his mouth and nose to the dirty floor. Slowly, she sat back and allowed herself to release a sigh of relief. If he had caught her, there was no doubt in her mind he would have killed her.

Standing, she paused only for a moment to glance around at her surroundings. Her eyes were narrow—calculating—as she scanned her environment. It was a dimly lit room. At first, she thought she was in a hospital. But then no…. Last time she checked… hospitals didn't resemble some type of twisted torture chamber. There were old, rusting medical tables with sinks filled to the brim with grime lined around the room, and the tools that covered them looked a lot like those from horror movies—the ones used for dissection. A morgue. The sick fuck had locked her in an abandoned morgue.

"You sick fuck…"

Turning back to her ex's unconscious, bloodied face, she sneered in disgust. Well, she thought, payback's a bitch. Striding over to him, she hooked her arms under his armpits and hauled him up.

"That'll teach you, asshole." She slid the body drawer shut, and it locked with a satisfying click.

She took a quick second to finger through his wallet. He didn't have much money on him, but there was enough for a one-way bus ticket. It was the middle of the night by the time she made it to the bus station. Hardly anyone was around, except a few homeless pushing their rusted, dented shopping carts. Upon checking the bus schedule, she let out a sound of frustration when she saw she had missed the last bus to her destination by barely five minutes. The next one wouldn't be until the morning. Not knowing where else to go, she decided to just camp out there. She walked over to a more secluded area of the station and sat down in the shadows. After a few minutes, she felt her eyes beginning to droop.

She was exhausted….

"Well, well, well. Look what we have here," a male voice crooned.

Eyes flying open, Reyna sprung to her feet, but she was held back by a pair of very strong arms wrapping around her thin frame. Her immediate reaction was to kick back and attempt to knock her and her attacker backwards, but he merely lifted her off the ground. Her legs flailed, the rest of her body thrashing, but a hand over her mouth muffled her screams. No. This was not going to happen to her again. Not tonight.

With a sudden burst of strength, she managed to throw herself backwards by kicking off the wall with all her might, and the person restraining her let out a surprised sound before she felt him lose balance and fall back, taking her with him. The collision with the ground caused him to release his hold on her, and she immediately scrambled to her feet and whirled around to face him, fists up. And that was when she froze, her eyes widening in what one could take as a mixture of shock and horror. Her mouth dropped open.

"Oh, my God…"

Her attacker was on his feet again in seconds, but instead of looking angry he appeared almost amused.

"Well… you certainly have some fight in you. I like that."

"What the hell are you?" She slowly backed up, horror painting her features. Because they were in a secluded area, no one had yet noticed her dilemma, making her realize the stupidity of her decision to camp out there. "I've never seen a creature like you. What are you?"

His countenance shifted to confusion at her comment, and he glanced down at himself before looking back up at her with a raised eyebrow. "You can see me?"

"Answer the question!" she snapped.

Slowly, a smirk spread across his features. "How interesting…" Then his eyes shifted to something behind her. "She can see us."

Eyes widening, she spun around in alarm, but it was too late, as the second figure snagged her in a choke hold.

"No! NOOO—"

A rough hand over her mouth promptly silenced her, and she was swept off the ground once more as if she weighed nothing. She was powerless as the two creatures hauled her into the back of their car, and the second one barked at a third in the driver's seat to move.

"Drive! We need to get her to Dick."

Dick? Her eyes narrowed. Who the hell was Dick?

She had been relieved when she felt the car come to a stop, but she didn't have the chance to make an escape when the doors opened, because two of the creatures seized her arms in almost painfully tight grips. She didn't know what was happening, and she had no idea where they were taking her, as they half dragged, half carried her in through a back entrance of the large building. On her way in, she had managed to catch a fleeting glance of a logo high above the door.

RICHARD ROMAN ENTERPRISES.

Her eyes widened, as she remembered what Frank had told her the night she had stopped by with the software she had promised him. She recalled seeing that name blaring on one of the many monitors in the grungy trailer, and she found herself wondering what meaning it held. Well, it looked like she was about to find out.

"Go alert Dick," one of the creatures told the driver. He nodded and strode off in the opposite direction. That was when it hit her. Dick. Meaning Richard. Meaning Richard Roman, the CEO of Richard Roman Enterprises.

He was one of them. Holy balls. It was going to take one hell of a miracle to get out of this one, but she had to try. She waited until they lead her into a posh office, before she sent a swift kick up under the one before her in the chin. He let out a grunt and stumbled but didn't fall back, and she heard an angry snarl from the one behind her.

"You little bitch!"

Before she could pull away, the creature's hand shot down and roughly grabbed a handful of her dark hair, yanking her to her feet like she weighed nothing. She let out a shrill scream, legs flailing beneath her as she grabbed at his cruel hands. He responded by letting go of her to grab her by the arms, and he abruptly spun her around to pin her to his chest.

"Stay still!" he snarled in her ear.

It was at that moment it all flashed before her eyes: him striking her to the ground, reaching for a gun to shoot her…. The growl that left his lips was of more anger than pain when she threw her head back into his face. She was left with a shooting pain in the back of her skull; he had a hard head! She felt herself being released, nevertheless.

"YOU LITTLE BITCH!"

"What is going on?" A man entered the room at that moment, and upon looking she knew he was one of them. He had tanned skin, and by the looks of it his vessel was Mexican or Latino. His face was calm and void of emotion, unlike the two others, and he entered the room at a calm stride. Behind him, another figure appeared in the doorway, and she immediately identified him as Dick Roman.

"Having some trouble, boys?" Dick said smoothly. There was a smirk detectable in his voice, eyes shifting towards her.

"For a human, she sure has spirit," said one of them.

"I can see that. Good call bringing her here. Let us inspect this little spitfire."

The one that had first encountered her at the bus station's hand came to roughly grab her face none too gently, cruel fingers digging into her flesh. He turned her head to face him as he looked her over like she was a piece of meat, and she instantly felt rage bubble in her chest. She merely glanced down at his hand—before she yanked from his grip and snapped at his fingers. He jerked away hastily.

"Christ!"

From the side, the tan-skinned one chuckled amusedly. Edgar, his name was. "I don't think she likes to be touched, Conroy," he said smoothly.

Edgar looked her over carefully, eyes squinting in a calculating manner. "Well, she certainly has spirit…. She looks human to me."

"That's the question, isn't it." Dick stepped towards her, and he eyed her curiously at seeing the fiery rage in her eyes. Unlike the other humans, he could not pick out a single fragment of fear in her green orbs.

"There's something else you should know, sir," said the one restraining her, and Dick's eyes shifted to him. "We can't read her. We all have touched her… but we can't copy her. I don't know what's blocking us."

"That's interesting." Dick shifted his eyes back down to the woman before him, frowning a little. He opened his mouth to speak again, but her voice cut him off, colder than a Russian winter.

"I won't be a toy to anyone—especially some egotistical, jagged-toothed beast!"

The two that had captured her exchanged glances. Beside Dick, Edgar seemed to smirk a little at them.

"Are you going to let her talk to you like that?" he said smoothly.

They sneered at him forebodingly, but his attention was already turned back to her. "I suggest you show the people at liberty to kill you the proper respect," he said coolly. He had this tone that sounded calm as the morning tide, yet underneath a deadly air crept around like a panther ready to pounce if given a reason to.

"I'm giving you all the respect you deserve," she sneered hatefully.

Smirk falling, Edgar suddenly stepped forward, and his hand swung around in a harsh backhand across her face. "You'll speak to us with respect," he said, in the same cool tone as before.

"Hit me all you want!" She looked spitefully into his eyes. "I've had worse!"

"You do have a temper, don't you?" Dick smiled down at her with a sadistic pleasure in his eyes that made her want to vomit. "I think I'm starting to like you, kid." Smirking, he eyed her closely, lips spreading apart to expose a devilish white smile. "What's your name?"

She glared. "Who I am isn't important."

"It is when it involves me," he said tersely.

She glared. "Reyna," she replied tersely. "And you're Dick, I presume?"

"The one and only." He smiled. "Tell me, Reyna... do the names Sam and Dean mean anything to you?"

She paused, her eyes betraying her.

"That's a yes," said Edgar.

"I figured you might. They seem to affiliate with abnormalities like yourself." That smirk seemed to spread a mile across his satanic countenance, as he turned a bit to exchange glances of mockery with Edgar. Dick turned back to face her, still smiling.

"You may be of use to me, Reyna."

A frown stamped itself on her face. She didn't like the sound of that. "Excuse me?"

"You're going to help me with something."

"The hell I am," she sneered.

"So if I were to tell you I will kill your family if you don't cooperate, you still wouldn't know anything?"

"Family?" A flash of fake surprise crossed her expression. "That's news to me. Tell Uncle Tom I said hi, will you?"

He stared at her.

"I have no family," she answered grimly. "Good try, though. It might have worked."

His eyes narrowed the slightest bit, but he appeared more curious than annoyed. "How did you become acquainted with the Winchesters?" he asked her.

"What is it you want from me?" she finally asked, growing sick of his toying around. "I am of no use to you. If you're going to kill me just do it."

His eyes seemed to spark with a renewed focus. "I have plans for you. I sense a... spark in you I haven't seen in the others." Dick spoke slowly—calculatingly. "Tell me… are you afraid?"

"Afraid of what?"

"Are you afraid I might kill you right here?" He began circling her as he spoke. "Spill your blood onto the carpet? My kind has a specific taste for human."

Reyna felt her eyes harden. "No."

"No?" He raised a single eyebrow, as if daring her to say it again.

Her eyes were locked with his, her voice even. "No."

"Are you so miserable you wouldn't care to lose your life?"

"Life never ends. A body is simply a shell the soul uses to walk among what you call the 'living'." She gazed directly into his eyes without a single hint of apprehension. "When destroying lives… you believe you are defeating them—putting them down for good, when in fact you are setting them free." Her tone was calm, void of any emotion as she spoke to the bemused creature before her. "I know you will probably kill me the moment this conversation ends, simply because I have dared to speak at my own free will against… whatever you are," she finished.

He blinked, and after a moment he slowly drew back from her to stand straight, head tilting slightly to the side in hidden interest. His eyes seemed to narrow a fraction, as if he were trying to decipher something. It was quiet for a long minute after that, his cold eyes seemed to stare straight through her soul. Behind him, his men were exchanging perplexed glances with each other, curious at how their leader would handle the situation.

"My, my…" Dick's eyes studied her as he grew a small smile. "You are something else, aren't you?"

She glared up at him from under long eyelashes, not saying anything. His smile seemed to grow.

"I am not going to eat you, Reyna."

Her eyebrows creased together, not understanding. Already she didn't like where this was going.

"You have a… moral fiber that I like. I will put it to use… by will or by force. Starting tomorrow. But before that, I'd like to have a little private chat with you. Edgar here will show you to my office."

She narrowed her eyes. Glancing back, Dick nodded to Edgar. The next thing Reyna knew, she was being lifted into the air and carried away out the office by the monster. Her immediate reaction was to resume her wild thrashing, bucking hard against his hold.

"Let go of me!" she shouted.

He grunted in faint irritation when he nearly stumbled backwards after a particularly strong toss from Reyna. "Hold still!"

Dick followed closely behind them, watching the enraged, wild girl with undeniable interest. During her untamed struggle to break free from her captor's iron grip, her shirt had lifted to expose a detailed black stain on her side. A tattoo?

"LET GO OF ME, YOU FUCKING LANDSHARK!"

Dick's office wasn't too far. Edgar managed to haul her down the hall and around the corner, and they were entering another room, possibly even more lavish than the last. Behind the desk was a huge window that overlooked the city below, expensive-looking paintings hung on the walls. The desk shined like marble, almost too tidy for human nature. But then again, these things weren't human. She grunted angrily when Edgar threw her down in the chair seated in front of Dick's desk.

"Shut up and sit down," he sneered.

"Eat me."

He stared down at her impassively. "Don't tempt me, sweetheart."

"Call me sweetheart again, big mouth."

A snarl appeared on his face when she realized she was looking at his true form. Before he could respond to her, though, his attention was abruptly shifted to the large double-doors when they opened. Dick Roman entered the room, and Reyna turned her head to him suspiciously. She watched him exchange a few words with Edgar, who responded with a scowl. He then glanced over his shoulder, and her eyes hardened slightly at the faint glint of amusement in his eyes, as he gave her a quick once-over.

"Have fun with this one, sir," said Edgar. "She puts a whole new meaning on the word hellion."

"That's okay," Dick responded coolly. "I happen to like my food a little spicy."

Reyna stared without a word. This creature was no different than the others she had faced. She watched silently as Edgar took his leave, leaving her alone with the fake Richard Roman. His eyes were locked on her, as an almost sinister smile tugged at his lips, exposing white teeth that would have appeared sharp and jagged if she looked deeper to his real face. She knew this creature, whatever it was, was unlike something she's ever seen before. This one was different in a sense of both intelligence and energy. The power she felt radiating from his being was impressive, she had to admit. But what did he want with Richard Roman Enterprises?

"Well… this has been interesting."

She only continued to stare, not responding. He stared at her for a moment at her silence, but then turned to the side where a mini fridge stood, and he pulled out an expensive-looking bottle.

"So, Reyna…" He calmly poured himself a drink before filling a second glass for her. Picking both glasses up, he turned to face her. "You can see the real me." He smiled, but it never quite reached his eyes.

Reyna said nothing, merely watching him with a calculating gaze. He was curious when he hardly sensed any fear about her. Just caution. If anything, she seemed guarded, but not fearful. And she didn't look away like most others would, her eyes instead remaining solidly locked with his own. Unlike Dean Winchester, however, hers wasn't defiant or even hateful. Those forest green eyes were strangely void of emotion. It was a little shocking to him how suddenly she had seemed to calm down.

The alpha leviathan felt a small smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "How is it you can do that, exactly?" He handed her the second glass.

She accepted it from him, but she made no move to drink. She probably suspected it was laced with something. Smart girl.

"I don't know how or why I can see the things I see." Reyna glanced up from her drink to meet his eyes. "No one has ever been able to give me an answer. Not even the angels."

"You've spoken with angels?" he asked her.

She nodded. "You killed him. Well, your men did." Her tone dropped a couple degrees at this statement.

His smirk held firm. Reyna held his gaze for another moment before she shifted her eyes to the side with a small sigh. "Honestly, I was hoping you could tell me," she admitted.

Dick watched her closely. "Your guess is as good as mine, kiddo."

She nodded. "So I guess once you're done with me you're going to kill me?"

As expected, a slow grin spread across his features, exposing a fake, white smile once more. "Not hungry right now."

Her expression didn't change.

"I have a better idea of what to do with you. You see, I could very easily have one of my men eat you and be done with it… but that's not what I want." He leaned forward a bit in his seat. "You interest me, Reyna. I could use someone like you on my team."

"Thank you." Her voice remained cool. "But I'd rather be a mid-afternoon snack."

"Don't be like that," he said, friendly tone false. "Don't be boring. Everyone who tries to deny me dies."

"If you think for one second I would ever help you carry out whatever sick plans you have—"

"Who said anything about making you kill anyone?" He smiled at her slyly. "All I want is a little human perspective on my team. You know… to help us fit in with all the other kids on the block. You look like a perceptive woman, Reyna."

"To help you manipulate innocent people, you mean." Reyna eyes him a bit coldly, voice soft but laced with awareness.

"Reyna." Dick was giving her a warning stare. "Don't be stupid. I know you'd been having a bit of a rough night. How about you sleep on it? We can talk again in the morning."

"Why?" She narrowed her eyes the slightest bit. "So I can say yes, and then when I prove to be of no use to you anymore you can kill me? I'm not a roll of toilet paper, Roman."

"You humans," he sighed, shaking his head to himself in staged exasperation. "You're all good for nothing. You can't even see when a great deal is presenting itself in your face."

"What are you?"

He raised his eyebrow at the sudden question. "You don't know?"

"Don't toy with me. I've never seen a creature like you before."

He smiled at her again. "What I am isn't important."

"Clearly it is since no one knows what you are."

"It's time to learn your place, Reyna," Dick snapped, all traces of friendliness, real or fake, not gone. "From now on, you will do exactly as I tell you. No questions asked."

"And if I don't?" Reyna quirked an eyebrow at him, sounding a little too confident. "Wait, don't tell me. You torture me? Eat me? Or will you just kill me and get it over with?"

"That's perfectly fine if you don't fear death," he said calmly. "I can always improvise." A cruel smirk then made its way onto his face. "Starting with friends. Even you hunters have a few fellow psychopaths here and there."

"Hunter?" She let out a cruel "ha". "Honey, I'm no hunter."

"No?" He narrowed his eyes a bit. "Then what are you?"

"What I am isn't important," she replied smoothly, purposely mimicking his earlier words to her.

He didn't answer right away. All he did was continue to stare at her with that composed gaze, but lurking underneath were obvious suggestions of warning and rising irritation. So, she didn't push him any further.

"I can see this is going to take some… convincing." He stood from his seat suddenly, and she watched him closely as he came around to her side, but instead of grabbing her like she expected he simply walked past her towards the door. "I'll have Edgar show you to your room."

"Not so easy when you can't just steal my mind, huh?" said Reyna.

"Don't think that doesn't piss me off."

With that, he opened the door and strode out, and right after him entered Edgar. Reyna stared at him for a moment before sitting back in her seat and puffing out a quiet breath of relief. Talk about cutting it a little close to the throat…. How the hell was she going to get out of this one?