Chapter 8: 9.14.1 Captives

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Dean leaned against the outside wall of an abandoned church, his foot pressed up against the peeling white paint with his arms crossed over his chest. He glanced down at his watch and let out a silent sigh before glancing back up, awaiting the arrival of the blonde. The screams inside the church had stopped just five minutes before and he knew that she never bothered to clean up the bodies.

Finally, after ten minutes of waiting, the church doors opened and out walked a petite blonde with a silver sword resting on her hip, blood splattered on her face and clothing. She stopped a few feet in front of Dean, her blood red lips curling into a smirk.

"Dean Winchester." She turned around. "To what do I owe this pleasure?" Dean pulled a key out of his pocket and stared down at it before holding it up. Eliza recognized the key immediately, her eyebrows raising in shock. It was the key to the Bunker.

"Sam doesn't like you."

"I got that, thanks," she replied in a monotone, rolling her eyes. Dean gave her a flat look but continued.

"And he doesn't trust you either, but he also doesn't trust me." Eliza let out a bored sigh and crossed her arms over her chest as Dean pushed himself off of the wall. "And as much as we both hate to admit it, we need your help finding Gadreel and Libby." Eliza laughed, shaking her head. She was surprised that the Winchester would come running back to her that quick.

"We're way past that, Dean. Sam made it clear that he didn't want to see me again—"

"Well, he didn't say those exact words."

"—so I'm staying away," Eliza finished, ignoring Dean's interruption. "I've made more progress without you two than I did with you. Pointless cases really use up useful time." Dean glanced over his shoulder at the church before looking back to the demon and nodding his head towards it.

"That's progress?" A sick smirk took over her lips.

"Torture does wonders when you want information. It's a real gem. You should try it sometime." Eliza grinned and glanced down at Dean's covered forearm. "Or not." Dean furrowed his eyebrows and followed her gaze to his arm.

"What, the Mark? What's that gonna do without the Blade?" he questioned. Eliza held up her wrist, revealing her own Mark.

"Oh, honey, you've got no idea. It took a lot out of Libby not to give into the Mark when she had it. All of those souls in Hell just waiting to be tortured. Mm, she tried so hard to push me back." Dean raised an eyebrow.

"'Tried'?"

"No one's perfect." Dean nodded slowly, understanding what the demon was saying. Libby hadn't been as pure as she let on. Eliza's tongue darted out and wetted her lips as she studied Dean, a certain glint in her eye that Dean couldn't quite recognize. Dean would never admit it out loud, but somehow Eliza looked hotter than ever being coated in blood. He wasn't sure if it was because it showed the badass side to her or if it was just the way the color contrasted on her skin.

"So Libby's got a little devil in her. Don't we all?"

"You wouldn't have tracked me down if you didn't want something," Eliza replied, finally changing the topic. Her smirk had fallen and she was all serious business now. She had work to do and Dean was getting in the way of it. The Hunter tossed the key to her, Eliza reaching up with one hand and catching it effortlessly. "Dumb move on your part."

"I'm trusting you."

"You have a death wish."

"We need your help."

"Wow, you're stupid."

"Come on, Eliza. You know you want to come back." Eliza's lips parted slightly as she stared down at the key, turning it over in her hand. She bit her lower lip in thought, weighing over the pros and cons if she were to go with the Hunter.

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