If Dean had actuay been watching Reyna right before she had disappeared, he would have discovered two things:
One, Reyna was most definitely not working with Onith.
Two, Onith was way more powerful than they could have imagined.
Alas, Dean was too occupied with the Impala to notice that Reyna was struggling with an invisible source right before Mallory came trotting back from the washroom. She had a pained look on her face and was concentrating immensely, sweating and breathing heavily. Her eyes were closed and she was silently willing herself to have enough power to resist this force.
Also, as it seemed to be the Winchester's unlucky day, they revved the impala just as Reyna gave a little squeak to alert them that she was in trouble. What a way to start the day.
Reyna was battling a force that seemed to be pulling her away from them. She did, in fact, have every intention to stay, and mentally told the force so, but no matter how hard she pushed to stay, it pushed just a little bit harder. To make matters worse, nobody could see her struggling.
Finally, the force overtook her resistance and swept her away.
It looked like she had teleported with her own free will, but they were all quite wrong. When Reyna appeared in this new place, probably deep underneath San Antonio in a mildewy dank sewer, she came face-to-face with something that made her demon blood run cold. Something with very red eyes.
Onith.
The very same Onith she had blasted in his cage.
And he looked... intrigued?
"So, we meet at last. My little rebel. The only one, it seems. Hello." He extended a hand to Reyna, who, though exhausted her power, frowned at it like it was a particularly ugly cockroach.
"Ah. Of course. You can't move. My apologies." Onith took his hand away, and Reyna discovered she could not move. Things are just getting better, she thought.
"Would you like something to drink? Perhaps, herbal tea? Warm milk? Ginger-infused cow blood?" asked Onith politely, wandering over to a table where a multitude of jars were stacked. Most of the contents looked like things nobody ever needed to know about. He grabbed a jar with some thick, milky green fluid in it and opened it, sipping courteously.
Reyna opened her mouth, the only thing she could actually move, and spat. "Why am I here?"
Onith chuckled. "Many reasons."
"Well, just cut to the chase and let me go. This is pretty uncomfortable."
Onith chuckled louder. "Oh, my darling Reyna, you think I'm going to just let you go? I'm sorry, but your assumption is a bit far-fetched. So is your mental image of me. See, I can do much more than normal demons. I have this knack of... hurting them."
He twisted his hand, and Reyna's wrist broke, inflicting her first feeling of pain in eight years. The previous times she had been cut, bruised, scraped, banged, or slashed it had healed without a drop of pain. She had to admit, the feeling was alien and felt like her wrist was on fire, then being stabbed repeatedly, then sawed off her forearm. Not a good feeling.
"And," Onith continued, ambling slowly around the table, "I also have items that can do the same. You see, you, Reyna, are a disease. The more demons and people you infect, the harder it is for me to get my plan along seamlessly. So, I need to enact the counter-virus. The immune system, if you please." His long-fingered hand curled around the sheath of a small blade. He took a large container, fitted it loosely around the edge of the hilt, and picked the blade up carefully. The handle had a devil's trap carved on it, as did the blade. Both looked to have been doused in holy water. Onith walked up to Reyna, who was looking defiant but shaking as much as her invisible bonds would allow, and took a large inhale.
"Reyna, Reyna, Reyna. Were you eating human food? Disgusting. You are an abomination to demonkind."
Unbeknownst to him, she was gathering every ounce of power she had left and was storing it, trying to get enough to resist and leave this horrible place.
"And... you... must... be... stopped." Onith finished, all traces of politeness gone from his voice. He thrust the blade into Reyna's stomach, and that flash of power was what she needed to break her bonds and disappear. She thought of Mallory, how Mallory would hold her up, and appeared right in her arms. Kind of.
Instead of appearing so that she could lean on Mallory, Reyna came to a slight complication. This complication was called Dean. She found herself smushed suffocatingly between the two of them, who had been glaring maliciously at each other. Tension was so thick between them; Reyna was not sure even a heavy-duty knife built especially for cutting tension could break it. But she tried anyway.
Since she could not see Sam, she assumed he had had the sense to stay out of it. If not... "Where's the body?" She asked, glancing down at Dean's livid face.
"No one died, Rey." Mallory glanced down at Reyna, who was struggling to keep herself up. "Oh my god!"
Reyna wobbled. "S'nothing. I'm fine." Her legs seemed to turn into jelly. This had never happened before. But before she had any time to think about it, they collapsed. Mallory's strong arms pulled up just under Reyna's, keeping her upright.
Well, to put it simply, they did not end up hitting the road that day.
~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~
In about a day and a half, things were starting to look up. They had managed to bind Reyna's wrist and soak up most of the holy water from the blade. Reyna had enough sense not to touch the handle, which had a devil's trap carved into it, until they had destroyed the carving. Now, Reyna was feeling much better, but their hopes had diminished spectacularly. Not only was Onith able to teleport others against their will, he had the resources and the ability to hurt demons. And that was never a good thing.
There was only one problem: how had Onith known exactly where Reyna was in the first place?
"I'm telling you, she's a damn spy." Dean muttered, pacing around the room they had checked back into. Soft snores wafted up from where Reyna was lying peacefully on the bed, asleep. "Nothing else makes complete logical sense."
Mallory reverted back into defensive-friend mode. "What about the reason called being a friend, huh?"
"Complete logical sense. That does not make complete logical sense. You've got to get rid of her. She's gonna ruin our plans."
"You don't know for sure!" Mallory retorted, slamming her hands down on the table. The book Sam had been reading jumped, and he hissed. Mallory and Dean paid no attention to him. "She says she's on Onith's most-wanted list, I believe her. She's never lied to me."
"And how would you know that for sure? For all we know, she's could be Onith's freaking right-hand man... woman... demon... thingy. Anyway, she might be a damn good actor, but I can always catch their lies. Always." Crossing his arms, Dean narrowed his eyes at Mallory from across the table. Mallory smirked and started laughing. "What?"
"Then I must be one hell of an actor to get past you. Really. Six years, I've known her, and I managed to convince you that we just met. Also, university. Writing? Minor. You know what my major is? Acting. And I'm a damn fantastic actor if I got past your defenses."
"Well, give the girl a medal. Do you want a trophy, too, so you can take it out whenever I'm wrong?" Dean clapped sarcastically.
On the bed, Reyna sighed quietly. No one heard her. No one knew she was awake. No one knew she could hear everything.
Mallory threw her hands up and flopped down into the chair next to her. "Look, I'm not gonna waste my time arguing with you when it's obvious we're getting nowhere. If you have ever had a friend that you've stuck with, told everything to, then you should know how I feel. Hell, she feels like my sister. We know each other inside out. So if you think that I am just going to ditch her on the side of the road because of some hunch you have, think again. If I were talking crap about Sam, you'd defend him 'till the end of time. So you'd better think twice before leaving her here, wounded and vulnerable. You either put up with both of us, or neither. And trust me when I say that things are just going to get harder without us."
A few moments of silence passed. Then, a rustling came from the bed, and the three of them looked at Reyna, who was sitting up, her hands propped on the pillow. For the second time in twenty-four hours, she had busted a heated argument between Mallory and Dean.
"What'd I miss?"
"Well, a little bit more catfight," slamming his book closed, Sam sighed. "Nothing too important. Just some personality clashes." He attempted to stand and bumped awkwardly into the table. The leg of Mallory's chair was blocking his, and she smiled a little bit and made no move to stop it. Finally, he wormed his way out and strided over to Reyna to check on her wrist. Just loud enough that she could hear him, he muttered, "Steer clear of Dean for a little bit. He's pissed. At you. Indirectly."
She nodded curtly and attempted to move her wrist, wincing at the bold of pain that shot through it. Of course, she knew that Dean didn't trust her. But that wouldn't stop her from trying to help.
Suddenly, a strange unidentifiable feeling pushed up in Reyna's gut. It was the same feeling she had when she had first become a demon: the impulse to kill, the impulse to just be free of everything and go wild, giving in to her twisted soul. Power surged through her veins, and she felt her wrist heal instantly, and the feeling of hatred grew stronger and stronger, and she only had time to gasp out a mangled "Leave. Now." She wrenched her head back and screamed with pleasure, the black lenses in her eyes taking over. The other three had the sense to hurriedly leave the room. As they left, another yell followed them.
Mallory, Sam, and Dean took refuge in the store across the street and watched as the door to their room rattled dangerously and burst open. Reyna's were still black, and her hair was out of its all-familiar ponytail and was flying wildly around her head. With a growl, she stalked to the lobby and threw open the door.
Silence.
Five seconds turned into five minutes, which turned into fifteen. Nothing happened that they could see. Eventually, Sam, Dean, and Mallory gathered themselves and wandered cautiously across the street, hands on their various concealed weapons that would most likely do no harm anyway. Their rented room was completely trashed, but nothing was technically out of the ordinary.
The real trouble happened when they went to the lobby. For starters, the glass on the front door was shattered but standing. One of the tables was overturned and the front desk papers were everywhere.
There was also the slight problem of the dead body slumping over the desk.
"Crap, Reyna. Crap to the millionth place." muttered Mallory, massaging her temples. She, Sam, and Dean fanned out around the room, searching for any more evidence that Reyna had been there before the police came. There was a faint sulfur smell hanging over them in clouds, but their demon was nowhere to be seen.
"Guys, look at this." Sam called, lingering at the back door. "Been busted open and then closed to make it look like it hasn't." Easing it open, the three of them crept into the alleyway behind the hotel. Garbage was strewn all over the ground; and inside a particularly large pile; a person, stirring feebly.
Mallory sprinted to the pile as fast as she possibly could and started chucking trash out of the way. Garbage was flying everywhere as Reyna’s body was slowly uncovered, moving achingly.
“What did I do?” Reyna asked quietly, her eyes which had reverted back to blue staring at Mallory worriedly.
Mallory bit her lip and looked back at the door they came out. Dean stepped gingerly out of the pile of trash that had collected around his feet and said, “Oh, just cut the crap already. You killed someone. While being a ravenous true-to-heart demon, I should add.”
“Shut up, you insensitive asshat.” Mallory shot at him before turning back to Reyna. “We should get out of here. I think I heard someone over there call the cops.” Reyna nodded gravely.
“Bring this along, ‘kay? I like it.” She grinned faintly and picked at her arm. Suddenly, she threw her head back and smoked out, her smoke disappearing into the drain cover beside them. Mallory, Dean, and Sam were left with garbage covering their legs and a dirty body to somehow transport back to the impala without being seen.
“Ooh, that bitch!” Dean swore and fingered his keys in his pocket. “I’ll get the car. Hold on a minute.” He ran off, leaving Mallory, who was fuming and wiping off Reyna’s meatsuit, and Sam, who was torn between loyalty to his brother and his friendship with the demon. He could side with his brother and Dean’s claims that Sam only half believed and risk Mallory getting really pissed at him too, or he could side with Mallory and what he mostly believed and risk Dean breaking off a part of their trust.
“Listen, Mallory,” he started awkwardly. She held her hand up and cut him off.
“Save it. I know what you’re going to say. I don’t blame you, if Cara had told me to hate someone I probably would’ve as well. I can tell you still believe in her, and that’s all I need. It’s Dean I’m worried about.”
With an audible sigh of relief, Sam turned back toward the entrance of the alleyway, searching for the Impala or any police cars. The familiar growl of the impala roared from the other side of the building, but not before a short, redheaded woman appeared at the opening. She was wearing a police badge.
Mallory and Sam were trapped in a dead end. There was nowhere to go. Mallory was holding a visibly dead body with a knife in her stomach, and Sam, well, he was large and built and, because he was looking frazzled, looked exactly like someone who would storm the hotel.
It was definitely not their lucky week.