Andrea Sanders, legendary hunter, is the kind of legend that only the brave and stupid dare to whisper about at night. After ditching the foster system at sixteen, she follows her father's footsteps into the only life she's ever known: hunting down...
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The storm raged outside of the car, pounding against the windshield in a desperate attempt to get in. It was all the wipers could do to try and keep my path clear as I white knuckled the steering wheel. There was nothing but trees, rain and rock for miles, and still I drove. On and on, Stanley's tires splashing through puddles that tried to pull us off the road.
My heart was pounding, trying it's best to rival the thunder as I thought back to my conversation with Castiel.
"Look. I found it in my pocket," the Angel said matter-of-factly while holding out a piece of well creased paper.
I gave him a curious look, but took the paper without complaint. We were sitting on a park bench in Manistique, Michigan. The sun was near setting and there were a few birds screaming obnoxiously in the trees around us. Unfolding the paper, I saw the handwriting of a person I'd never expected to see again.
Hey there, little brother! Long time no see! If you got this, then I'm dead. As a door nail. But, fear not! I haven't been hiding away in this whole apocalypse. On the contrary, I found something. Powerful enough to trap an Arch Angel in a vessel and then all we need to do is throw him in. I just need you to get Aces to Madame Baskins to finish the spell. Our little Anomaly is gonna change everything. Just you wait.
-Gabe
Attempting to wipe discreetly at my face, I cleared my throat, gripping the paper tightly in one hand. "So? Madame Baskins? Where is she? Who is she? Ice cream connoisseur?"
He blinked slowly before pushing another paper at me with hastily written directions. "No. Madame Baskins is a witch. Or, more so, a sorceress; she's not too far from here. Just follow the directions. And," he paused, reaching a hand into his coat, "wear this."
The smell accosted me first as I scrunched up my face and stared. "What is that made of? A pickle?"
"No. It's dill." He gestured for my hand, slipping the braided plant onto my wrist softly. "It's protection against witchcraft. Madame Baskins is an excellent witch, but she can't be trusted. She's only does anything if there's some benefit for herself, so you need to be careful. If I had my powers I could do more—" The longing in his voice was distinct as he trailed off, finally shaking his head. "Never mind. Just wear it."
My gaze lingered on him as my eyebrows knit together. "Aren't you coming with me?"
Perhaps one of the noisy birds had flown by, casting a shadow across his face, or maybe it was something more sinister. But it was gone before I could be too concerned. "No, Andrea. I have a rental car. I'm going back to the Winchesters. I feel I am needed there." Castiel scoffed. "As much as I can be needed without any of my powers." He paused, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye and trying to wipe of the self loathing look that clung to his face. "Best be going. There's a storm coming."
