Dearest Readers,
Thank you for reading this story, I hope you have been enjoying it so far! I've recently dealt with some pretty hard times, a man who was like a father to me passed away a few weeks ago and it's been a little hard to come back from that. But, the characters and you- the readers, make it so hard to ignore how much fun it is to write these stories. So yes, y'all keep me coming back, so thanks for keeping me in line. You guys are the best!
XOXO Ally Layne.
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"Don't mind me, I'm still confused as to how Blondie here could've gotten across the country this fast," a gruff voice spoke. "Oh wait, nothing seems to be making any sense with you or those friends of yours."
A raven-haired young woman shrugged, grinning up at the man from where she lay across the leather sofa. "I have no idea what you mean."
The newcomer, a blonde woman, rolled her grey eyes at her friend. She was sitting like a normal human- mind you- on the sofa, holding Persie's feet in her lap. "Stop acting like your brain is a wad of seaweed."
Persie rolled her head dramatically to look closer at her friend. "Shuddup, Wise Girl."
The man, Dean, raised a hand to his brow in exasperation. He finally started to understand what Sam must've felt all these years. "How did the two of you save the world, again?"
The blonde, curly-haired girl eyed the oldest Winchester seriously. "Who are you, again?"
Persie snorted. "This is Dean Winchester, you know, the one I told you about."
She nodded back in understanding. "The one you briefly spoke about?"
Dean groaned. "For the love of- now there's two of them!"
Sam chose that moment to walk into the living room after taking a shower, still using a towel to dry his hair so the excess water didn't drip down onto his shirt. He paused, noticing the girl who hadn't been there the night before. "Uh-"
Persie waved. "Hey Sam, look, my friend came to say hi."
The blonde waved at the younger Winchester, who was still standing in the doorway, gaping at her awkwardly. "Uh... hi, I guess."
Sam blinked. "Hi?"
Persie rolled over and sat up on the couch and flung an arm around her shoulders. "Who am I kidding? Guys, this is Annabeth, my bestest friend on the whole planet."
Annabeth, for her part, nodded solemnly. "I am she."
The brothers looked at the girl with slight confusion and awe. "And, I suppose you know who we are?" Dean asked.
She nodded, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. She was wearing a plain blue tee with some shorts that highlighted just how long and lean she really was. The blonde curls from the sun-kissed skin screamed California girl- but something in her eyes told them very differently.
"You are Dean Winchester," Annabeth said. "Older one of the brothers, savior complex, and severely addicted to booze, boobs, and grease. She looked over at Persie. "Am I missing anything?"
Persie leaned back, grinning at the interaction of pure magic. "No, please go on."
Dean held up a hand. "Nuh-uh, sweetheart. You forgot-"
"Your Impala?" She cut him off, smirk sliding onto her pink lips. "Yeah, I was under the impression that someone had that impounded."
Dean's expression fell, and Sam's snickers lit up the background. "We got her back, by the way," Dean gruffed.
She nodded. "Of course you did, that's why it's outside." She rolled her eyes, looking over to Persie. "Men, am I right?"
Persie threw her head back and laughed. "Oh, Annie, I missed you."
Annabeth smiled. "I missed you, too."
"You must be the Annabeth that Persie has spoken about," Sam offered, walking over to where the girls sat and held out a hand. Dean looked at his brother as though he had just offered the ultimate betrayal, only found once she took his hand and shook it with a grin.
"You must be the Sam Winchester that Persie has told me about." Her smile widened at his own nod. "It's a pleasure. I heard you went to Stanford, Pre-Law?"
Persie blinked. She looked at Annabeth curiously. "Uh, what?"
She shrugged. "I may have done some preliminary research before I decided to show up here. And I was impressed by your credentials, Winchester."
Dean and Persie shared a look, confusion, horror, and awe all intermixed into one second.
"Now wait a minute here-"
"Oh no- you're not corrupting my brother-"
Annabeth looked over at Dean, raising a brow. "And what are you going to do about it?"
Persie threw her head back into the couch. "Dear gods have mercy on us all."
"I could tell you, or I could show you," Dean offered, smirking down at her, eying her figure up and down in a slow, salacious manner.
Annabeth scowled.
Before she could open her mouth to start some sort of verbal war, Persie stepped in. "I think you should let them in on what you told me, Wise Girl. I think it would help you, uh, get acclimated."
She figured that was a nicer way to say prove her worth. But with the Winchesters, Annabeth was going to have to show off just a bit to gain their trust.
Annabeth, for her part, took in her friend's expression and nodded. "Of course." She looked up at the brothers. "I've ID'd the ship."
The boys paused. Persie knew it didn't take a mind-reader to know that they looked slightly put out that they were beaten by some chick they didn't know, but she supposed it was sort of becoming a habit of theirs.
Annabeth leaned down to grab her messenger bag and handed Sam a folder before continuing. She gestured for him to open it, and was mighty pleased when his eyes widened at how thorough and thought-out the report was for how little time she must've had to put it together.
"You did this?"
Persie leaned back in her seat, grinning at her friend who blushed at the awe in the youngest Winchester's voice.
"Yeah, I did," Annabeth said. "It's not much, but I was able to find some things before arriving here..." Her blush deepened. "Or, rather, I was able to find enough to make the decision to come and help."
Dean grumbled and took the folder from his brother, paging through the contents quickly before pausing. Persie could see the gears running in his head, and smiled. "Don't strain yourself too hard there, hotshot."
He pursed his lips, looking between the two girls. "Are you some sort of psychic or something? How'd you get all this?"
Persie laughed. "No, she's not psychic," she answered for her friend. "But I do have a friend who can see the future from time to time."
Sam's mouth gaped as Dean raised his brows. "And you are just telling us this now, because...?"
She looked over to Annabeth, who shrugged. "It's not my story, Seaweed Brain."
"Woah, woah, woah- Seaweed Brain?" Dean was pointing to Persie now. "You know, that's not a bad name for you-"
Persie rolled her eyes. "Annabeth is the only one allowed to call me that."
The blonde nodded in agreement. "It's true."
Sam decided to cut in, "So, uh, about this ship-"
A knock sounded at the door.
"Well, who might that be?" Persie asked no one in particular.
Dean grabbed his gun, holding it at ready as he walked over and opened the door. Instead of anything cool happening, he looked into the peephole with a low hum before moving to open the door.
Sam, she noticed, had his gun underneath the table, and she was sure that Annabeth was holding onto her obsidian dagger wherever she had it stashed.
Persie, herself, was immediately on alert, hand on riptide, ready to pop off the cap in a flash. Though she figured out of everyone in the room, she was the least on guard.
Dean smirked as he let Bela in the door, and she looked at the surroundings in disdain. Persie ignored the fact that she was, once again, wearing designer everything, and was suddenly annoyed that she had been spending too much time with Piper to even know that.
Bela's eyes flickered to everyone in the room, barely glancing at Persie or Annabeth as if they were some uninteresting nicknacks picking up dust in their uselessness.
Annabeth stiffened as she took in Bela's mannerisms. "Why do I already want to kill her, and I don't even know her name yet?" She muttered over to Persie, while never taking her eyes off the other blonde.
Persie choked out a laugh, making every eye automatically go to her. "Oh, don't mind me-"
"I wasn't going to, sweetheart," Bela mocked, before looking over at Sam and Dean. "Dear God, are you actually squatting?"
She walked over to where they were sitting in the living area, grimacing at the sight of the two females hip to hip on the couch. "How... charming."
Persie nodded in agreement. "We are, aren't we?"
Bela deftly ignored her and looked over to where Dean was leaning against a sitting chair, eying her warily. "So, how did things go last night with Peter?"
Persie snorted, before grabbing the folder Dean had abandoned and started to read some of what Annabeth had collected. Last night she had been given the rundown of it all, but she hadn't seen the pictures that Annabeth had pulled for the report.
She ran a finger along the picture of the ship, feeling her brows furrow as her mind wandered.
Bela must've taken the silence for her being right. "That well, huh?"
"Uh, hello- did someone say my name?" Persie snickered when Peter chose that very moment to walk into the living room, coffee in hand. "Uh- there are two people who I don't know."
Persie stood up and walked over to Peter, ignoring the looks that were thrown her way as she put an arm around his shoulders. "Well, Peter, the woman on the couch is Annabeth, she's here to help. And that woman-"
"Isn't she a reporter?"
The current look on Bela's face was something Persie was sure she wanted to remember even into the Elysium. "Well, it looks like she was lying to you, Peter."
"I work with them," Bela tried, making Dean snort.
Sam rolled his eyes. "What happened to wanting us to stay out of your way?"
Peter, for his part, looked extremely uncomfortable at the sudden change of atmosphere. "I... uh, I guess I'll just go back to my office-"
"Just please avoid any source of water," Persie told him. "Especially if you're not around us."
Annabeth held up a hand. "Actually, in all cases, it seems that this spector has only been attacking others at night."
Peter shifted in his place. "Good to know."
"So you should be fine for now," she offered.
He nodded, looking back to where Bela and Dean were having a stare-off. "Well, it was-uh-"
Bela looked over at him, now curious. "How did you survive?"
Peter's eyes widened, and he looked at Persie in confirmation. "Well, it was her, wasn't it?"
Persie shrugged, but Dean readily nodded in agreement. "Without her, I don't know if we could've helped you in time."
Sam smiled at Persie before nodding too.
Bela looked at the dark-haired demigod with a raised brow. "Well, what's so special about you, then?"
"I am exceptionally good at blowing things up if you really want to know." She cheekily grinned, but her green eyes narrowed dangerously. "Keep it up if you want to be next."
Dean choked on a laugh. "Cool it, Kelpie."
"Well, she did ask." Persie shrugged.
Peter sighed. "Let me know if you need anything," he said, before taking his leave. Persie figured he had enough weirdness for the moment.
Bela, however, took his leaving as an opportunity. "Look, I think the..." her eyes wavered between Persie and Annabeth, "five of us should have a heart-to-heart."
Dean snorted. "That's assuming you have a heart."
Bela sighed. "Dean, please..." Ignoring her, he crossed the room to sit on the other end of the couch from Annabeth to be closest to Sam. "I'm sorry about what I said before, okay? I come bearing gifts."
Persie narrowed her eyes. "We don't want anything from you, blondie."
"I've Id'd the ship," Bela continued, ignoring her.
She laughed as Sam and Dean rolled their eyes in near unison. Annabeth sat up straighter, holding the folder on her lap primly. "You're a bit too late on the uptake. Looks like we beat you to it."
Bela, having taken out a picture from her own folder and forced it on Sam, recoiled at the words. "So you know-"
"That it's the Espirito Santo, a merchant sailing vessel?" Sam asked, handing the photo back to Bela with a blank look. "Yes, we do."
"But do you know that-"
"There was a sailor accused of treason and he was tried and hanged on the ship?" Dean offered, smirking at the woman knowingly. "Yeah, we know that one, too."
Bela pursed her lips. "Did you know how old he was?"
"37," Persie spoke, before moving to sit in between Annabeth and Dean. "Which explains the 37-year cycle."
"Well aren't you a sharp tack?" She reached into her folder and searched around a bit. "There's a photo of him somewhere..."
Annabeth pulled one from her own folder, handing it to the other blonde with a grin. "Don't worry, we have our own."
Sam smirked. "And it's the same as the ghost we saw last night."
"You saw him?" Bela asked.
Dean nodded. "Yeah, that's him, except he was missing a hand."
"His right hand."
"How did you know?" Sam asked her suspiciously.
"The sailor's body was cremated but not before they cut off his hand to make a-"
"Hand of Glory," Annabeth cut her off. Bela glared, but Annabeth merely grinned and widened her eyes earnestly.
"A Hand of Glory?" Dean smirked, shooting a smug glance toward Bela. "I think I got one of those at the end of my Thai massage last week."
Bela rolled her eyes as Persie let out a low groan. Dean's smirk instantly fell, and looked at Persie in confusion. "What?"
She shook her head. He was hopeless.
"The right hand of a hanged man is a serious occult object," Annabeth explained, making Persie even more surprised at just how much her friend knew. "It's very powerful."
"So they say," Bela added.
Dean let out a sigh. "And it officially counts as remains."
"But still none of this explains why the ghost is choosing these victims," Sam noted.
"I'll tell you why," Bela began, before smirking. "Who cares? Find the hand, burn it, and stop the bloody thing."
Annabeth sighed, and Sam seemed to agree with her. This woman was completely missing the point.
"I don't get it." Dean narrowed his eyes at her. "Why are you telling us all this?"
Bela's smirk widened. "Because I know exactly where the hand is."
Dean glanced over to Sam, who seemed at least intrigued, now. "Where?"
"At the Sea Pines Museum, as a macabre bit of maritime history," Annabeth answered for her, wiping the smirk off Bela's face. "Yeah, I knew that part too."
Bela tilted her head to the side, for the first time actually looking directly at one of the other women. "And who are you exactly?"
Persie rolled her eyes. "She is also your worst nightmare. C'mon, figure it out."
"And do either of you happen to have a plan as to how to get that hand from the museum?"
Persie looked over at Annabeth who shrugged, looking down at her notes. "No, but-"
"No?" Bela grinned. "Well boys, I am going to need your help."
Annabeth glared at her. "I have a plan-"
Bela snorted. "Obviously not a good one considering you seem so hesitant about it."
Sam narrowed his eyes at her. "What kind of help?"
Bela smirked. "The help of two dashing young men." She then looked over at the other women. "Looks like the two of you are sitting this one out."
Persie looked to Annabeth, only to see her friend staring back at her with her knowing, grey eyes.
We are so not sitting this one out.