Mine

Meg backed up into an oak tree with a wide trunk, pulling an unconscious Castiel along. When an angel crammed themselves into a human vessel it makes the body unnaturally heavy, but the combination of human adrenaline and demon strength allowed her to move him. Meg sat down with her back to the tree, one arm hugging the angel's neck, while the other fished for his sword. Clarence had a cut on his head and another wound somewhere hidden on his torso. Angelic grace and human blood infused together to drip down on her arm and to soak through her jeans. Wherever it came in contact with her skin, it left a numbing sensation.

From the encompassing mist, five figures stepped into view making a half circle around the pair. When the demon located the angelic blade, she pulled it from its concealed location and brandished the weapon toward her would be assailants. At sight of the sword, all ceased their encroachment on her position simultaneously. Some looked around at each other before all the members of the group focused on one man to Meg's right, and her gaze followed to him as well.

"Mine!" Meg growled as she aimed to make her voice carry a quality of 'don't fuck with me' to it. For good measure, her eyes snapped to the darkest black. During that time, her armed wrapped around Clarence's neck pulling him in tighter.

"Give us the angel, whore." The man to her right said with gravel in his voice.

Werewolves, that's what the five standing before her were. That meant the dipshit who just spoke to her was the strongest with the rest of pack looking to him for the decision making. He was tall, wearing jeans and a striped blue button up long sleeve shirt. From what Meg could discern he was also the eldest, looking to be in his late 20's, while the others seemed to be of college age. Still, looks could be deceiving when it came to supernatural beings. Also, why does everyone assume as a female demon she was a whore? Sadly, it had been quite some time since Meg had – well that didn't matter right now.

"I have a better idea for you. Why don't you make like Balto and run." She replied as the demon squarely trained the angel blade toward the tall werewolf.

"We will not. You," he pointed first to Meg and then to Castiel, "and him have trespassed on our territory."

"Well, I'm sorry White Fang. I must of have missed the piss markers on the trees back there." Meg apologized disingenuously.

White Fang snarled at her, and the demon returned her own snarl right back. He coiled as though he was about to spring into attack.

"Come on try it, Beethoven!" She waved the blade in a warning. The werewolf froze still, stiller than any normal human could of managed, only his eyes moved watching the movement of the sword.

To her left, two other werewolves leaned towards each other and spoke quietly, but she could make out what they said. The first to speak was a blonde man wearing that stupid black Rolling Stones lips t-shirt that every college boy seem to have in their wardrobe.

"Hey how many dog references do you think she's going to make. I mean she's got to be running out right?" He asked.

The man he spoke to looked like a frat rat if Meg ever saw one with his polo shirt and khaki shorts. "I don't know man, there are a lot of them." He answered.

"Really?" Rolling Stones asked.

"Yeah, there's Benji and Lassie. And what's that dog's name from Tom and Jerry?" Frat boy replied looking up to the sky, trying to rack his brain for the answer.

"That dog had a name?"

"Didn't it?"

"Are you two high?" Meg interrupted, incredulous at the two for being either so unaware or obtuse to the current predicament they were all in.

For an answer, Rolling stones raised his right hand and used his index finger and thumb in a 'just a little bit' gesture. Frat boy only gave a small nod in the affirmative. Well that explained that, she thought, and Meg rolled her eyes. Even White Fang shook his head in disgust at the two morons. However, his attention soon turned back to the demon.

"Only silver can kill us." The tall werewolf said, assured of that truth.

"Are you sure about that Rin Tin Tin? Why don't you take a look behind those two idiots?" She nodded past Rolling Stones and Frat Boy. "You'll find two of your pack dead there."

White Fang nodded to the rest of his compadres, "Watch her." They nodded, and he jogged in the direction that she had indicated.

When Meg had arrived, she found Castiel passed out and bleeding with a female and male werewolf standing over him. Meg didn't care, for the moment, or know neither how the angel had arrived there nor how he received his injuries. Discussing what they should do, the female werewolf campaigned for her mate to eat the angel's heart. That one thought devouring the heart of an angel would make her mate invincible, and then he could rise to be the alpha male of the pack.

After overhearing that conversation, Meg lost control and saw red with rage. They dared to take that which was hers? Perhaps silver was the only way mortals could kill werewolves, but she wasn't mortal. Demons were on top of the supernatural food chain with angels and perhaps alphas as the only beings above them. In her fury, she had ripped the two apart and tore their hearts out with her bare hands. After Meg had regained her calm, she found herself towering over two mangled corpses. Blood and gore was strewed all about her, and it had splattered her clothes. As she was trying to get Clarence to safety, was when the rest of the pack had discovered her and the angel's presence.

The leader returned, running back. "I'll kill you, bitch!" His canines were now elongated, and he frothed at the mouth. For the first time, the two stoner werewolves showed some actual intelligence and restrained White Fang. They had saved their leader's life, because Meg wouldn't have hesitated to take it.

"No. You. Won't." She annunciated each word for emphasis. It wasn't boasting but simple truth. Unless they could have taken Castiel's sword away from her, as if that would happen, they literally had no means to kill her. "So," she continued, "unless you want to end up like Lady and the Tramp back there, you'll leave now and think yourselves lucky that I have bigger problems on my mind than you five."

White Fang stared daggers at her for a minute, but then he stared down. He had visibly calmed down, but Meg could still see his sharp fangs. "Let's go." He said, his canines making him mumble the words.

"Go home, boy, go home!" The demon really had no power to stop herself from adding more insult to injury.

"This isn't over!" He yelled at her.

"Yeah, yeah." She shrugged. "Bigger, bader things than you have threatened me and then followed up on those threats." Meg gave the werewolf her wolfish smile. "Yet I'm still around. So, just go smell each other's butts or whatever your kind do, but don't ever get in my way." While she still smiled, her face became harder for the last of those words.

Soon, Meg and Castiel were alone in the forest, and she released a sigh of relief and lowered the angelic blade.

"You're really starting to rack up a tab with me you know that angel?" She asked the unconscious form in her lap.

As if answering her question, the angel grunted in his sleep. She checked to see if the cloud hopper was still out cold. He was. Afterwards, she made quick examinations of his wounds and found they had healed or were on their way to being so. Confident that both of them were in no more real immediate danger, she let herself relax against the tree. Her one arm still held the angel's head, and her other hand moved to stroke his blood matted hair. When he would awaken, she was going to make him explain why he was out here.

In a dark, soft whisper in his ear she told the angel, "You don't get to die without my permission, angel. Do you understand me, Clarence? You're mine."

Yeah, I don't know I just had to put in stoner werewolves. Still, thanks for reading. Please review and more stories are on their way.