Wayward Hearts Book 3- Summer

Part 4

"I said move," Emma said more forcefully as she shoved Damon.

"Emma!" Damon was shocked by her sudden behavioral change as he noticed her eyes glowing slightly orange.

With a lightening quick reflex Emma pulled a stake from her inner jacket pocket and plunged it into Damon's side, he groaned and fell to his knees as his brain registered the pain.

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"You just let her leave?" Sam berated Damon when he returned to the hotel to find Emma gone.

Damon scoffed at him, "Why does everyone assume I just let things happen? Did you miss the part where I had a damn stake sticking out of me and she had crazy Phoenix eyes going on?"

"Why in the hell would she leave?" Sam ran his hand through his hair, it reminded Damon of the way Emma reacted when she was stressed, "The blade shouldn't have affected her. What happened during the fight with Dean?"

"Emma spotted Dean, jumped out of the car and ran at him, that weird British guy showed up and said something in Latin after tossing my ass like a rag doll-"

Sam interrupted him, "Wait, what did he say in Latin?"

"How in the hell am I supposed to know?" Damon threw his hands in the air frustrated.

Sam stepped over to his bag and pulled out a journal, he flipped straight towards the back and began reading something to himself. Damon sat on the bed feeling helpless, a feeling he absolutely loathed.

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Emma kicked open the door to the cheap motel room where she knew she would find Dean. He was inside with a brunette on top of him, upon seeing Emma the girl slid off of Dean in a panic and wrapped herself in a sheet before running out of the door, grabbing her cloths on the way.

"Honey, I'm home," Emma announced with a grin on her face.

Dean grumbled as he got up and slid his jeans on, "What in the hell are you doing here Emma?"

Emma walked over to Dean and shoved him back down on the bed, "No idea, but it seemed like a fun place to be. I'm starting to think I was right."

Before Dean had a chance to react, Emma crawled on top of him and straddled his waist. She leaned over him and started running her fingers down his chest.

"Down kitty cat," Crowley scolded as he entered the room, "don't make me get the spray bottle."

Like a perfectly trained soldier Emma got off of Dean and stood ramrod straight and seemed like she was waiting for orders.

"Jesus, that brainwashing spell you used is nuts," Dean looked at Emma in awe, he had never seen her so obedient.

"You just have to know how to use it," Crowley adjusted his suit jacket, "tell me Dean, how did your soul collection go?"

Dean scoffed, "Uh, he's dead, and you're right, it felt amazing."

"He?" Crowley looked at Dean like he was crazy.

"Yeah, uh, Lester."

Crowley's anger bubbled to the surface, "The client! You killed the client?"

"Doest it matter? He was a douche," Dean grabbed his shirt and tossed it on, "and now he is a dead douche."

"Of course it matters!" Crowley yelled, "The deal was one dead wife for one soul. The wife's not dead, I don't get the soul. It's math."

Dean started to leave, "Well...oh well."

"Hey! Don't turn your back on me!" Crowley yelled after him.

Dean shoved Crowley and sent him sprawling across the room. Emma finally moved and like an overpowered bouncer, she grabbed Dean's shirt and sent him down to the floor next to Crowley, who was finally get his feet back under him.

"Really?" Crowley had finally had enough of Dean's extreme behavior, "Tell me, Dean -- what are you? A demon? If so, why isn't Lester's wife dead? Did you feel sorry for her? So maybe you're human. Except you have those pretty black peepers and you're working alongside me. Why don't you do us all a great big favor and pick a bloody side!"

"Or what? Hmm? Go ahead. Make a move. See how it ends. I ain't your friggin' bestie, and I ain't taking orders from you. When I need to kill, I'll call, until then, stay the hell out of my way. And that goes for your little guard dog too," Dean eyed Emma up and down.

"Fine. It's over. What can I say? Crazy ones..." Crowley clasped his hands in front of him, "well, they're good for a fling, but they're not relationship material."

"Are you done?" Dean raised his eyebrow.

"We're done. It's not me. It's you," Crowley snapped his fingers and Emma followed him diligently out of the room.

Once outside and away from the building, Crowley reached into his pocket and grabbed his phone. He called up his favorite moose.

"Hello Bullwinkle. You miss me?" He asked Sam once he answered.

"So much," Sam's voice was thick with sarcasm, "where is Emma?"

"I'm sorry who? Anyway, you're looking for Dean, I'm here to give him to you," Crowley smirked.

Sam was shocked, "What?"

"The little prat's bad for business," Crowley rolled his eyes at the thought of what Dean had done, "he's...uncontrollable. Must be the Mark; anyway, Dean's your problem now. Again, forever."

"Where is he?" Sam sounded desperate.

Crowley glanced over at Emma, "First, there's the small matter of my finder's fee."