Chapter One

A Fated Meeting

I shifted, bored out of my mind as I washed the counter down. I'd been told they'd get here soon, but I had no idea how long I had to wait. I'd expected it to be a week long wait or so, not several months. I'd been here long enough that I was holding down a steady job and had found a nice little cabin to rent. It wasn't supposed to be like this. I was supposed to be an antihero off on my own little mission, not someone to be forgotten and left behind.

With a growl I muttered under my breath, something about what I'd do if I ever found out this was just some joke. I'd left home behind and other small missions I could be doing. This one was a biggie. It was my chance to get noticed, prove to my family that I was worthy. But man, I hated waiting. At least I didn't have to worry that they'd come after me. They knew where I was and they wanted me to be successful too. Sometimes I felt like I was a disgrace to them, but I'd always believed that I would have the chance to do something great and prove to them that I was worth everything.

I snapped out of my reverie as a bottle of whiskey was thrust under my nose. I faked gagging on the scent of it and drew away from it. My co-worker Rachel grinned at me and I sighed in exasperation.

"Hey you deserved it this time," she said defensively. "You kept washing the same area, totally zoned out and focused on something. Sheesh, if you're that tired just go home already."

I winced and looked at the reflective circle on the counter. Compared to the rest of the top, it was amazingly clean. And it would take a long time to get it evenly cleaned. I groaned, loathing the fact that I had just made my job a lot harder. And like any good friend would do, Rachel just laughed and danced away. I threw my semi-soapy rag at her and she caught it, whipping it out at me. With a shrill giggle I got my forearm up ahead of time and blocked the stinging blow, catching the cloth and tugging it away from Rachel.

It was then that the doors to the little bar opened and a good looking man walked up. He seemed pretty careless about the fact that the sign read closed. The doors should have been locked. Rachel straightened as I glanced around, looking for one of the bouncers. The manager wasn't going to be happy about this at all. The doors had to be locked while we were cleaning and select few had the keys for it.

I recognized the man from earlier tonight. He'd been a trouble maker with some of the other girls. I shifted automatically. Rachel was accustomed enough to my defensive reactions that she backed away, knowing there was nothing she could do to stop this guy. We were alone, likely a terrifying notion to my co-worker but comfortable in the fact that I was here at least. I could defend myself and I would defend her too.

The man was clearly more than just a little drunk, and definitely something other than human. I had enough experience with creatures that were not human to recognize one when I saw them. I was grateful it wasn't a demon, I wouldn't have known what to do with a demon and I also probably would have let Rachel go to one. At least this way I didn't have to, I could still protect my friend.

The man reached over towards me, and I reacted instinctively, blocking his approaching hand and then slamming it down on the counter and dislocating it with an effortless twist. But of course he didn't care and the pain certainly didn't faze him as he tried with his other hand. I dislocated it as well, just as easily. But it lasted only a few seconds before he popped his shoulders back into place and was attempting to approach us again.

I seriously hated monsters with low IQs. I vaulted over the counter, my feet connecting squarely with the man's chest. I figured it was probably a Minotaur, the spirit of a wild bull trapped within a man. It was rare, well as rare as any other supernatural creature I guess but even for me I'd only heard about these guys. I yanked the blade from my boot and slammed it into the Minotaur's heart. In a flash I saw the spirit dissipate from the vessel and then the blood started to ooze out and I pulled my knife from its chest.

I looked over my shoulder at Rachel in time to see her fall into a swoon and hit the floor. I winced. It wasn't a big deal for me if people thought I was crazy. I could always move on to some place where no one had heard of me. If worst came to worst I could always cross the border to Canada. That would at least take a decade before I'd have to move to Mexico because of infamy. But I didn't speak Spanish very well… I was better at it than French though. Of course all of this was conditional to the fact of if I survived long enough.

I went over to Rachel and dragged her out of the bar. If there was some better way to disguise this, I would have done it. But I had no other option. I went over to my car, the stupid crappy Pontiac thing that had been bought used just for me, and I opened the trunk. I seriously wished I had another car. Almost any other one would have worked aside from this thing. I'd almost had it for a year now. God, I hated it. But admittedly, at least I had a car no matter how craptastic it was.

I pulled out a jerry can of gasoline and went back inside the bar. I doused the place down, making sure to use some of the alcohols to help cover what the gas wouldn't. I stepped outside, drew my box of matches out and lit one against the cardboard before flicking it into the bar. It went up in flames and I stepped back, shoving the box into my pocket. I dragged Rachel away a safe distance before I tossed the container back in the trunk of my car and got in.

I turned the key in the ignition and my car flared to life. I was about to put it in reverse when someone jumped in front of my car, his hands slamming onto the hood. I jumped, a shameful, startled, squeak echoing in my car.

"I need a ride, please." Desperation shone in his eyes and I shook my head numbly. "I'll report you to the police," he threatened.

I glowered and unlocked the door. I liked to try and stay out of trouble if I could help it. He attempted to squish into my tiny car and pushed the seat back as far as he could before he could fit. But it was a tight fit. Serves him right for blackmailing me.

"I need to go south of town."

"I need to go to another city," I retorted, backing out of my parking space.

"There's one south."

"I came from that direction."

He pulled out a cell phone, "I will call the police and report you for arson if you do not turn this car around right now and drive south like the freakin' devil's on your trail!" His eyes were determined and serious.

"Jeez what's your problem?" I growled under my breath as I turned around. I hated being under his control but I had no other choice in the matter.

He glared at me impatiently and then abruptly turned his focus onto his phone. He scowled and hit the radio; soothing country music filled my little car.

"You seriously listen to this garbage?" he reached for the station button and I swatted his hand away.

"My car, my music." I wondered if he would actually threaten me with calling the cops again, just because I didn't listen to the kind of music he did. I mean, country wasn't my favorite but I'd changed to this station because the other options weren't as appealing. But now I had the wonderful knowledge of knowing he disliked country, so I wasn't about to change the station for this hijacker.

I smirked as he settled in slightly, clearly pissed off with being forced to suffer this music. I cringed as a bitter, melancholy tune started to play, but I made no move to turn the radio off. He didn't say much after that, just directed me where to drive and if I was to make any turns. He was considerate enough to give me warning ahead of time if I needed to make a turn or change direction. At first I thought he was just a lunatic who'd broken out of a hospital but then I began to realize that his directions all came in accordance from whenever he glanced at his phone. As the hours wore on, I realized he wasn't telling me where to go. He was telling me to follow whoever was ahead of me, whoever he was chasing.

I attempted to go off course several times but he glared and threatened to report me. And I was still in the damn state so they could arrest me if need be. I promised myself that if his crazy goose chase led me out of state, I wasn't going to listen to him anymore.

"Why were you trying to burn down that bar?" he asked suddenly.

"Trying?" I demanded. I better not have just been "trying" I had better have succeeded.

"Alright, alright, sheesh. Why did you burn down the bar?"

I snuck a quick look at him and saw that he was watching out the passenger window. Well there wasn't much to say about why. I could lie, make up excuses galore or I could tell the truth. I decided I'd risk the truth, see how he'd react. I mean I'd already committed arson, knowing I'd murdered as well wouldn't change anything. Especially since I could be charged for arson murder in conjunction with the murder now it was murder with arson.

"I was covering that I killed someone."

His eyes widened and he turned to look at me. I spared him a smile. "Why'd you kill someone?"

I hoped he was regretting riding with my right about now. Maybe thinking I could kill him too. Ha! He'd deserve that fear and panic. "Because he looked at me funny," I rolled my eyes. Too much truth was lethal. I didn't want to kill him by telling him about a drunken patron possessed by the spirit of a bull.

"Right. Fine you don't have to divulge your life secrets."

I scoffed, "Yeah, you want that buddy, you start sharin'."

"I don't do chick flick moments," he grumbled.

"Too bad for you," I responded.

He smirked, "Then go ahead and share your life story."

"Nah, it'd be like some cheesy movie and you'd be crying in seconds. 'Sides, I don't tell life stories."

He took that chance to roll his eyes, "Parrot me why don't you."

I took that moment to refuse to speak for a while. It was just my Hijacker and me, in a cheap, crappy Pontiac that smelled faintly of mint from a decrepit car freshener under my seat. The country songs had finally started to get less sorrowful and Carrie Underwood was singing about cheating. I noticed that my passenger winced at the part in the song where she engraved her name onto his pickup truck. He must have cheated at sometime and valued his vehicle. I eyed him curiously, for a brief moment, wondering if I'd just read too much into that brief reaction.

I decided it was warranted enough by the fact that his presence was here and he'd just tried to read into my life. I could try and gauge what his life was like. Completely and totally fair in my opinion.

I glanced over at him, guessing his age was probably around early thirties or so. "So… chasing after a runaway kid or something?" I inquired.

He half choked and offered me a scathing look, "Brother," he corrected unhappily. "Just keep driving already would you?" he exhaled tersely.

"Sorry, I have to stop and get gas. And stretch. God, just give me a break."

"You know, you could just stop and get out here and I'll drive on. Then come back and give you your car…" He trailed off as I pulled into a gas station.

"No," I snarled. I pulled out some cash and handed it to the attendant, not really caring if he cheated me out of some money. "This is my car, Hijacker. And I'll thank you to not steal this worthless piece of shit!" I turned to glare at him.

He sighed, "Whatever. Let me know if you're too tired to drive and I'll take over. Sorry, kid got the run on me you know? In a little bit of a rush."

As soon as the jockey was done, I was driving down the highway again to Place Unknown on a wild goose chase. And we were getting no closer to crossing into another state. Damn. I wanted to lose my hijacker and get out of this state. But it looked like we were only winding through this place. I guess I should've been happy that I was used to nightshifts and little sleep because it meant I didn't have to relinquish anymore of my control to Hijacker.

I kept my eyes on the road, focused on following the speed limit despite how much my passenger wanted me to speed like crazy. I kept to the limit like I kept the country music playing. Actually, I'd started to ignore it now and heard no noise. It was quite refreshing. Except for his instructions. Since the gas station some miles back, he hadn't said a word aside from directions on where to drive. Sometimes I caught him muttering and it didn't take a long time to figure that he was just criticizing my driving. I threatened to toss him out at that point. He just threatened to call the police.

If arson in that one little town was my only crime, I would have been tempted to just toss him out of my car. But I did have orders to follow, and to follow them it kind of involved staying out of jail. And I had no doubt that I'd done more than enough that would result with me being in prison. I was hopeful that he would just disappear or I'd wake up to Rachel shaking me and discover that this was all just an infuriating dream.

But damn, it wasn't.

I kept driving, my eyes on where I was driving. I was hopeful that it wouldn't be long before I could lose this Hijacker. I wanted him out of my car. He didn't seem any happier about it either. He glanced down at his phone for like the millionth time and then sighed in sudden relief that caught me off guard. I glanced over at him unwillingly.

"He stopped driving. He's only a couple miles ahead."

"Then I get rid of you?" I asked hopefully, not bothering to disguise it.

"Yeah, I'll be outta your hair by then. Unless of course you want more of me." He shot me a wink.

I couldn't possible form my response through words, so I did something far easier and more natural. I gagged. And unfortunately for me, it seemed to provide him nothing but amusement while I'd been hoping to wound his ego. I suppose it was just too big by now that no one could deflate it. I narrowed my eyes as I drove on. There had to be someway to pop his ego and leave him cowering. Well maybe not cowering. But still, he needed a good kick to his ego. Actually, probably a couple other places too… I sighed silently, knowing that I wouldn't be the one to inflict those much-needed-injuries to his ego because I didn't want to chance having an assault charge laid at my feet.

Dawn was just starting over the horizon and he pointed out a small turn off that lead us to an old rundown motel. There was black Impala parked outside it and Hijacker seemed to sigh in relief as he spotted it. Excitement coursed through me as I realized that this meant. Hijacker was going to get out and then I could drive off and out of state and be free!

He had his hand on the door, "Well c'mon," he said impatiently.

"What?" My jaw dropped. No. No, no. I was going to drive away, that was all. He had to let go of all this now and let me be on my way but by the expression on his face that was the last thing he had on his mind.

"I need to be sure Sam's here. And in case he isn't and left his cell behind in the car, I'm still going to need a ride. He'll have hotwired my baby and it'll take time I don't have to fix her –come on!"

I jumped, accustomed to obeying such an authoritative person. But I chose not to, I chose to fight him and disagree. I had no reason to listen to him, to obey him. He was nobody in my life, just some crazy hijacker. He narrowed his eyes at me –ooh terrifying. I glared back.

"Your problem Hijacker, this is where I'm sayin' goodbye."

"I can still report you."

"Fuck you," I growled, getting out unwillingly, slamming my door.

"No thanks," he retorted with a smirk. "I like my girls to be pretty."

I stormed towards him, my only intention to go over to this egotist and knock some sense into him. However, he took that me walking over meant that I was obeying him. He flashed me another smirk and indicated that I was to go first. I contemplated running over to him and fighting, but with a miserable sigh I realized that I couldn't actually do that because it would result in an assault charge. Still. Goddamit! Couldn't his little brother be out of state?

So I reluctantly headed into the rundown cheap motel with Hijacker following right behind me. I hoped this wasn't going to be a true story that some horror movie based itself off of, because honestly it felt like one of those moments. Hijacker was going to follow me in then lead me off to a room where his brother was supposedly at, then he would kill me. And the audience watching the movie would laugh at my stupidity. Well I couldn't help it that I had no other choice.

If I wanted to progress in my life, I had to stay out of trouble and here in town. This was where my assignment was supposed to take place. It'd been a year since I heard anything about my targets. No one bothered to come by and fill me in on what was happening. I would have liked some updates every now and then, but I kept to what my last order had been. I'd survived in that stupid town for an entire year. Maybe it was time to leave but I had no proof of it and I was impatient of sticking around especially when I noticed monsters crawling the streets every night. Granted they were different monsters, but it didn't mean that I didn't feel bad for the ignorant humans they preyed on. And anyways, I certainly wasn't going to give my life up to one of them. They had no idea who I was. And that was just the way everything was supposed to be.

My records had now been arranged in such a way as to hide my past. A look at my recent history would have nothing questionable within it, except of course for the fire I had started. But so long as Hijacker didn't report me and Rachel didn't rat me out, everything would be fine. I had some faith that Rachel wouldn't do anything like that, she was accustomed to my behavior.

We entered into the boarded down building, and the fact that several wooden planks had been ripped off the door were evidence enough that there was recent activity here. I saw Hijacker pull out a blade of some sort, the tip coated in blood. It looked fresh. I cursed myself for having not noticed that he was carrying a weapon. Why it was coated in blood, I had no idea. I stared at him intently as he kicked the door open, trying to discern if he had any other weapons on him. I wondered if he was a Hunter. I hadn't encountered any, but I'd heard about plenty of them. And actually, I was looking for two in particular. Maybe I'd gotten lucky for once.

A smell unlike anything I've ever experienced before wafted over me, a stench disgustingly sweet and foul at the same time. Footprints led to the stairs, the dust elsewhere completely undisturbed. I could see marks that indicated someone had recently been dragged up the stairs. A few droplets of blood were on the floor. I supposed it was because I noticed the blood that might have given me away as being someone out of the ordinary. Hijacker flicked a flashlight on, and started upstairs. He made a complicated hand signal that I knew meant stay here. And just in case I was doubting what he meant, he mouthed the words to me as well.

I watched him go upstairs and turn to the right. Probably following the blood trail. I waited until he was out of sight before I started upstairs and followed some older tracks to the left. The scent seemed to get stronger as I followed upstairs. I glanced towards the right, watching briefly as he darted into the first room. I wandered down the hall and directly into the first room I found.

I took a brief breath, preparing myself and I inhaled a sickeningly sweet odor. One half-dead orange bulb dangled like an eyeball separated from its socket. It brightened abruptly, in a sudden surge and I discovered, to my horror, the origin of the nearly appetizing scent. Two dead girls hung from roped, levitating off the floor, tiny needles stuck in the sides of their throats. They'd been dead awhile and I couldn't hazard a guess as I ducked out of the room wondering at what kind of sicko had done this.

I darted into the hall and headed for another room. I wouldn't want this to happen to my worst enemy. It was too disgusting a fate to contemplate. The sound of glass shattering alerted me to the presence of Hijacker. With a regretful groan I raced towards where the noise had come from. I drew my throwing knives without a second thought. I wasn't about to leave Hijacker to this fate. It wasn't one anyone should have to suffer.

I spotted two shadows fighting each other; bodies within the room tangled in a fight, dancing across the room and blotting out the flashing orb of light, killing the shadows. I didn't hesitate as I hurried inside, throwing a well aimed knife into the tattooed man's shoulder. It startled both fighters but Hijacker recovered first and slammed his knife into the Djinn.

I caught sight of a tall man tied up, beside him another girl and a boy child hung. The man had a steady rise and fall to his chest. But the child didn't seem to be breathing… I unpinned my hair and jogged over to the kid, hurriedly picking the lock, desperately listening for the stirring of breath. I freed him and put my fingers to his neck, praying that I might find a pulse. Hijacker was using actual lock picks to free the woman and the man, who was presumably his brother and already coming out of a drugged stupor.

I hated Djinn. It hadn't been until I'd seen the tattooed man that I'd known what it was for sure. I had been a little worried that maybe it was some idiotic human trying to pretend it was a vampire. I was so relieved that it was a monster and not some psychotic wannabe vampire. Djinn were messy, disorganized killers. And they didn't care who they killed. I sighed miserably, swallowing hard as I drew away from the lifeless child. It wasn't right for this stuff to happen to kids, but at least he'd died happy. The girl Hijacker had saved didn't seem to be doing too well. She'd been here far too long and I was worried that she wouldn't pull through.

Hijacker seemed to agree but he still did his best to save her. At least she was around humans when she died. He looked over at me sharply.

"What the hell was that?" he gestured at the knife embedded in the body.

"Self-defense?" I replied hopefully.

"You could have been killed –"

"So could you," I growled. "So could he," I indicated the man I assumed was his brother.

His eyes narrowed, "Yeah but we do this all the time."

My eyes widened and I gasped. I think it was because he said "we" that tipped me off.

"Not like that!" he said hastily, misinterpreting my response. "He's just my brother."

I glanced at him in annoyance. Of course I knew that. Maybe it was because I recognized them finally. It'd been months since I'd heard of the Winchesters. Closer to a year, actually. Maybe I recognized them now, because I suddenly recalled that he'd called his brother Sam. But I knew who they were. Well who knew that waiting so long would actually pay off.

"I do this stuff all the time too asshole," I snarled.

A groan reminded me that we weren't the only people present and I looked over at the incapacitated man. He sat up slowly, rubbing his neck and blinking as he adjusted to the dim light and tried to perceive his surroundings. I couldn't help but wonder how long he'd been under the Djinn's power.

"D-Dean?"

Hijacker turned to look at him, unabashed concern flashing across his features. "Yeah?"

"They okay?" He was silent for a moment. I was content to leave it up to Hijacker to decide what to say. "Oh no… They died didn't they?" he groaned.

"Sam… It's okay."

"No it's not!" He sat up, rubbing at his head. He looked around and seemed to notice me or the first time. "Who are you…?"

Well I should have been flattered that at least he hadn't assumed I was some victim of the Djinn. "I'm his chauffer," I drawled.

He frowned suddenly, "Right. I had the Impala."

"Did you hotwire her?" Hijacker demanded, glaring at Sam.

"No… No I-I took the keys while you were asleep… What do you mean chauffer? Dean never lets anyone else drive."

I offered him a sardonic glower, "He does when he threatens them." I didn't feel it necessary to explain what he had threatened me with.

"Hey –I just told her I'd call the cops on her for burning down a bar."

Sam looked at me oddly, "Why did you burn down a bar?"

I sighed tersely and got to my feet. This was not the time or place to be having this conversation. "Look I-I don't think this is right." I covertly glanced at the bodies beside us. "I saw others."

Sam nodded solemnly and got to his feet. Hijacker glanced where I had looked. "I told you to wait downstairs."

"I helped you, whether you want to admit it or not," I snarled harshly. "Thanks are in order where due." I flipped my ponytail over my shoulder and strode downstairs.

Moments ago I would have been ecstatic that I was done with Hijacker. Or Dean Winchester, I suppose as that was his name. But now my mission was to take place. And I was not looking forward to managing some half decent story, some way to keep close to them. I had one job to do. A very important one. I'd been waiting an entire year for these two idiots to show up. I knew that I was waiting for them, but it was their descriptions that threw me off.