Kyiah's eyelids lift, her eyes burning. Disoriented in a wave of double vision.
"Welcome back, Pet." Crowley's gruff voice echoes through her senses. She gives a defected moan, scrunching her face. "Had enough?"
"Fuck, you." She tirelessly spat.
"Don't be so bitter, Tsia."
"Bite me." She growls. The demon stands to his feet, landing at the side of the bed. The back of his thick hand tracing down the side of her divine face. Kyiah remains unflinched against his possessively driven touch.
"Don't deny me, Tsia. I know you miss it. Miss the pain." He lifts himself off her to clench his fist. Forcing her to shout in agony, her body arching off the bed. His eyes shut, taking pleasure in her torment. "I recreated this place, just for you. A reminder, of what you left behind." Kyiah pants, scowling. "In hopes to persuade you, Princess." He turns his hand up, amplifying her cries of suffering. "So, we are going to try that again. Give. Up. The throne."
"Fuck. Off." She growls through her teeth. Crowley stiffens his expression, closing a tight fist as Kyiah levitates above the mattress. Wailing out in insufferable agony, her body contorting beneath the demonically juiced pressure. The rattling chains conducting with her decibeled cries fill Crowley's ears with sweet, sweet, music. Watching her shinning, dripping, skin, flex. When she muffles her screams, bringing her sounds to a mere whimper as she once again finds her pain threshold. He scowls, throwing her down onto the bed with a bounce.
"Stupid bitch." His raspy voice smacks, making his way out of the room. Leaving Kyiah to gasp for air in the recreation of her bedroom.
"I will never give up my throne, Crowley!" She shouts in lividity. "NEVER!"
- - -
The bunker was tense. With Sam bouncing his leg at the table.
"How far do you think she could be?"
"She could be anywhere..For all I know, Roska took her to The Underworld." Dean says, pacing the room, sipping a beer as Sam puts his face in his hands. "Dammit."
"Hello, boys." Crowley's appearance causes them both to jump, facing him. Sam's jaw flexes as Dean's steps come to a stern halt. "I've got news on your girl, Winchester." He says striding over to them. Dean fiercely approaches, meeting halfway.
"Where is she." He demands. Sending Crowley's arms up in defense.
"Easy, Squirrel." He teases disrespectfully. Against his own wishes, Dean reluctantly backs down. Watching Crowley bring out a red hankie to dab his sweat covered forehead.
"What's got you all hot and bothered?" Sam notes, judging his overheated physical state.
"Hell is hot." He says matter-o-factly, placing the cloth back in his suit pocket. Rubbing his facial hair as Dean sourly cringed his face.
"So?" He edges impatiently. The King of Hell gave a slow signal of affirmation.
"I've located Tsia-"
"Kyiah." Dean sharply corrects. The demon raises his expression, rudely bowing his head.
"Right. Because she's only Tsia when she's sitting in my bloody throne, or running about in Transylvania." Dean stiffens, taking an intimidating step for Crowley who walks back. "Call off your dog, Moose."
"Dean." Sam warns, making him freeze mid step. Staring daggers into the vessel before him. Giving visual identity to The Mark's crave for reactionary violence.
"Right than..." Crowley affixes his suit before continuing. "She's being held up in a skin walker joint over in Georgia."
"How did the skin walkers get to her?" Sam skeptically questions.
"I haven't the foggiest." He shrugs, wandering the bunker, feeding off their intense staring. "Listen, I only located her. I can't be everywhere at once." Sam gives a low breath.
"You got an address?"
"Course I do." He says over his shoulder. "3090 Consecutive Ave, 1379. Just over the Missouri state line."
"Great. Let's go." Dean and Sam both turn around to pack.
"Now wait, where's my side of the bargain?" Crowley asked, turning Dean on his heels.
"We'll kill Ocula. When we get Kai." He clarifies.
"Oh come on, time is of the essence here." Crowley whines.
"I don't care. We're getting Kyiah back first." Dean snaps. Seeing The Demon King's reluctant scowl, he approaches again. Provoking him to wear a forfeiting grin.
"Fine than.." He filthily concedes. Waiting for the Winchester to turn his back before continuing. "I'll just, let you two at it than." He slyly instructs, watching them prep. "Don't forget about our little bargain."
"Great. Yeah, sure. We'll kill him, but we're going to Missouri first." Dean calls, grabbing a duffle bag and heading up the stairs with Sam.
"See you when you get back." Crowley calls. Dean give him a vile glare. "Kisses." He vanished. And Sam closes the door to the bunker.
- - -
Crowley re-appeares, storming through the house back into the room.
"Welcome back." Kyiah taunts. The livid demon darts straight for her, skyrocketing his hand. Violently directing her torture as she staggers out pained breaths, groaning against the agonizing fiery sensation tearing through her muscles.
"Where, is, the stone?!" Kai gasps, fluttering her eyes in suffering.
"I don't know." He sent another irate round of excruciating pain through her. Tightening his meaty fingers.
"WHERE, IS IT?!"
"I DONT KNOW!" She screams apoplectically, the whole of her eyes flashing yellow, cracking the headboard of the bed frame. Crowley releases her in a huff of rage. Reaching back into his pocket for the vial as her body gives. "What is that shit?" She breaths toughly, watching through her blurred vision.
"Just a little something to keep those unsavory powers of yours under wraps." Her body clenches, seeing the glint of suspense in his curled facial hair. Realizing he knew the consumption of demon's blood is the strongest neutralizer to her extensive magick.
"No.." She scoots herself against the silk sheets as he advances with the loaded syringe.
"Yes."
"Crowley, please! Dont-" She yelps, the needle jabbing harshly through her neck. Activating a cascading stream of blazing dark liquid through her veins. Diluting the structure of her giftedly altered DNA. Crowley retracts, capping the syringe it in its cover to stuff into his suit pocket. It didn't take long for the affects of his sedation to take hold. Drifting her into an near unconscious state.
"I hope this is all worth it, Pet." He grumbles, watching Kyiah fight to stay awake in her induced condition. "Your boys are making it awful hard to get my justice." He turns, walking to sit in his chair.
- - -
Dean and Sam burst through the doors of the skin walker's hideout. Launching everyone to their feet. Bringing a few of them to shift into canine form.
"Where is Kyiah?" Dean demands, cocking a shotgun.
"Who the hell is Kyiah?" One of them barks. Dean sent a round directly through his face, his body plummets to the floor with a hollow thud. Sparking the wrath of Cain's Mark.
"I'm not playing!! Where is she!!"
"WE aren't playing! We don't have her!" Dean gifts him a double tap. Sending a silver bullet square through his chest and another through his forehead. The skin walkers attack, throwing themselves at the boys in a frenzy. Sam forcibly shoots straight forward, then to his left, taking out a dog without shifting his focus. Dean pulls off a little trick he learned from Kyiah. Blocking a throw to counter with an opposing strike. Throwing the skinwalker against the closest wall before shooting another. Sam takes out the one Dean had tossed aside before firing at another, bringing him to his knees. As Dean sent a silver blade into a leaping dog. Who whimpered as it fell. The two move through the house and Dean stops. Turning to Sam and motioning to a descending staircase. They split up, with Dean going down. Facing more skin walkers, which lead to another bloody gun down driven by unflattering persecution. The Mark enforcing his unbridled drive. Sam had pushed through each and every door, coming up empty, just as Dean came back yo to find him.
"She's not here." Dean huffs. Clenching his fist, the scar stinging. "Fuck!" He exclaims. Sam's shoulders fall as he turns around once more.
"I should have known something was off when he said these dogs got a jump on the Transylvanian Werewolves.." He admits in shame, his concern on the situation only further developing seeing Dean's constant pacing.
"Dammit Crowley!" He shouts, kicking in in a flimsy wood door. His rage, speedily becoming more fluid.
- - -
Crowley sits collectively in his chair. A demon timidly pouring in a glass of fresh whiskey.
"Thank you, Milo. One more thing." The demon looks down obediently and Crowley slashes his throat. Catching the blood in a silver bowl as he tumbles to the floor below. "This is Crowley. Connect me to Ocula, Lord of the Underworld. I've got something he wants." A mere moment passes before the blood in the bowl vibrates in dismay.
"Crowley." Ocula's deep voice greets.
"Hello, old friend."
"What's this I hear? That you've found my little Easter egg?" Crowley smiles sinisterly, looking to her motionless body on the bed.
"You've heard right."
"Congratulations. Crowley, King of Demons. What do you want for the return of the Princess?"
"Step down. All I ask is to take the throne of the Underworld." Ocula's bellowing laughter sent chills down his spine.
"You've got yourself a deal."
"Don't keep her waiting." He incentivizes.
"Crowley." He pauses. "If she's not alive when I get there. You will never again live to torture another soul." Crowley swallows nervously, and before he could reply, the line clicks dead. He exhales a troubled breath, strutting over to the bed to stand above her. Spinning his glass, feeling a growing sense of moral confliction. Fergus had known Tsia since she was nothing more than a child. Decades longer than Cas, even. They'd only become more aquatinted during her debt repayment, and her admittedly aggressive run to overthrow Hell's Throne. The first time they'd met, she was just the ripe age of four. Boldly standing aside Gabriel as he delivered a mark unto him, in exchange for The Demon King's loyalty for the upcoming war. And since she is just as revered as her father, and with the awareness of her covert abilities, Crowley's made sure to keep close tabs on her throughout the years. His complex feelings on her existence, and magnetic, influential, powers, were effectively skewing his end game.
"I am sorry, love." He moves the bangs from her face to take one last look. Dishearteningly walking out into the foyer, waiting for Ocula...After about five minutes of morally indecisive, impatient, stewing. Crowley edges over his shoulder to the unopened door. "Dammit, Tsia." He groans rashly, heading back for the hall.
"Crowley." A strident voice erupts, whipping him around with a moment of fear. Watching a truculent, pale, figure, slide out from the shadows. Beaming in nefarious joy. "Where's our little Princess?"