The damp air tickled Alex's nose, stirring her out of her sluggish sleep. Her eyes hurt, her nose ached — no, her nose throbbed — and the molten ball of grace in the pit of her stomach did nothing but add to the nausea. Alex rolled her head back, stifling a whine as she blinked. The darkness was so thick, it made no difference if her eyes remained open or shut. She was in the bunker's dungeon; the musty smell of stone and the stiff wooden chair beneath her was all too familiar. The handcuffs around her wrists had been looped through one of the chair's arms, and Alex gave them a fruitless yank as she let out a wordless shriek of anger and frustration. "Dean!" She thrashed back and forth, but the chair was bolted to the ground. "Sam, please!"

A thick, dry heat burned in her chest, and Alex fell silent with a whine. Without the chill of Lucifer's grace within her, the air felt sticky and humid against her skin. Luce? The prayer escaped before she could stop it, and Alex let her eyes fall closed. Look at her. Five minutes without Lucifer's protection, and she had fallen back into the Winchester's hands, and now ... who knew how long it had been. Her wrists ached, the skin chafing against the metal cuffs, and she struggled against them until the ache turned into a hot, pulsing throb. "Sam!" She threw her head back in a scream, voice cracking, but the echoing screech gave away to silence.

Cas, she whined. Where are you? Please, it's dark. The wards around her wrist stifled their bond, and Alex slumped over; she didn't even know if she was getting through.

She wasn't sure how long she sat there in the dark. Minutes, hours — the time blurred together. But eventually, the bookshelves that hid the bunker door creaked open, and Alex turned her head away from the bright, burning light. Her grace rose up, but her skin was a cage, trapping it within her body. Footsteps approached, two or three sets mingling together, and Alex blinked rapidly to force her eyes to adjust as the lights flickered on above her head. The first thing she saw was Dean, towering over her with a scowl on his face. Sam stood just beyond, shoulders hunched as he watched his brother: his eyes never moved towards her.

"Comfy?" Dean was uncomfortably close, but Alex refused to lean back in her chair as she tilted her chin to find his eyes.

"Could use a pillow or two." The handcuffs jingled as Alex gave them a tug, rewarded by how Dean's eyes turned down towards them. "Why don't we just cut to the chase and you take these off of me, okay? You can't keep me here forever."

"I'll keep you here as long as I want." Dean stepped back, and Alex caught sight of a flash of tan in the doorway. "Tell you what." He planted a hand on the back of her chair, forcing Alex's eyes back up onto him. "Tell us where Lucifer is, and when this is all over, we'll let you out."

"Where he is?" Alex's wings lifted, vanes rattling as she scowled. "You think I know where he is with these on?" She jerked against the handcuffs, biting back a wince as their sharp corners dug into her skin. "I can't even feel Castiel, and he's not even ten feet from me! I can't feel my mate, I can't hear anyone's prayers — I can't feel anything except the cold and the damn pain of sitting in this fucking chair!"

Dean's eyes glittered, his face inching closer as he searched her scowling features. "Okay. We'll come get you once we slam Lucifer back downstairs."

He stiffly yanked his arm back and spun around, and Alex threw herself forward with such force that the chair rocked against its iron bolts. "Wait!" Anger rushed through her chest, blooming across her cheeks, and she kicked out with her legs; the action had Dean grunting as her ankle found his shin. "You can't just leave me here!" Can he? The anger ignited into panic, and Alex swung her head over to Sam, eyes wide. "What — what did I even do? It's not — I didn't try to stop you — hell, I made it a point to stay out of your way because —" She was running out of breath, and Alex drew in a sharp inhale through her nose. "Because this little squabble that you have with Lucifer, it's none of my business!" she finished. Dean paused by the door, his jaw tightening, and Alex's pitch rose, eyes sliding past the Winchesters and onto Castiel. The seraph hadn't moved from the doorway, as still as stone. "What, you think keeping me down here is really going to help? I was stopping him from hurting people, you idiot! I made him promise!"

That last exclamation had Dean turning, and Alex jerked her head back as two long steps took him back to her side. "Right. Like he's the kind of guy who keeps his word. "

"He is for me!" Alex's wings flittered against her back, and she lifted her chin under the Winchester's scrutiny. "I'm the only one here he'll listen to and you — you're just going to keep me in the dark? That's stupid, Dean, even for you! How many more are going to die because you —"

"Guys, can we just stop fighting?" Finally, Sam stepped forward, hands extended as he put himself between her and Dean. Dean's eyes flashed, and Sam turned to him, voice dropping into a murmur. "We can't keep her down here for the rest of her life," he said, and Alex had to strain to hear his words. "And it's not like she can smoke out of here, not with those cuffs on. Let's just let her up out of that chair. "

"The only way I'm getting out of here is on my own two feet," Alex added, lips curled as she struggled to keep the scorn from her tone, "and last time I checked, you're both faster than me."

"Not a chance." Dean dismissed her with a sideways glare. "And no way. She made her choice, Sam, and she chose the dark side, so as far as I'm concerned, she's no different than anything else we'd put down here." His jaw ticked as Sam met his glare, unblinking, and for a second, silence fell as the two brothers faced off.

"What's the point of this, Dean?" Alex finally broke into the quiet, and her ragged feathers scratched against the bare concrete as she flapped her wings. "Why did you even bother coming down here? You could have just talked to Cas, and he would have told you that I have no way of knowing where Lucifer is, not with these on." A quick look — barely a flicker of the eyes — over Dean's shoulder showed Castiel, his head turned away, and Alex tightened her frown. So Dean had spoken to him. "So then what's your damn play?" Her gaze snapped back up onto Dean, yanking on her chains; the metal dug into her raw skin, and the pain funneled her anger. "Did you just come down here to taunt me? To — to put me down and try and make me feel bad?" Dean's jaw ticked, teeth grinding together as his fists clenched at his side, and Alex leaned forward with a full-blown snarl. "Go ahead and hit me, Dean — I know you want to."

Her words hung in utter silence, and Alex leaned back, refusing to tear her eyes away from his. Her cheeks burned, chest heaving; the room's heatz coupled with the exertion of her anger, was becoming unbearable. She could see Sam's hesitation in the corner of her vision, watching his brother with darkened eyes. His lips parted, but Dean beat him to words. "Don't be stupid, Sam," he growled out. The rasped rumble cut the tension like a knife, and Alex finally let her eyes fall off to the side. "I'm not going to hit her."

"Really?" Alex scoffed, scornful and petulant. "Well that's a change from last time."

"What did you want me to do? Drag you out of LA kicking and screaming the whole way? We never would have made it out of that nightclub, let alone out of town." He scrubbed one hand through his hair, finally turning back to Sam. "Don't say it, okay? I know Cas said this was a long shot, but it's the only shot we had."

He turned away, and Sam's eyes fluttered closed, a silent exhale falling from his lips. The moment was short-lived, and a second later, the Winchester's face was once again hard and rigid lines. "Crowley still has his feelers out," he reminded wearily. "Lucifer has to turn up eventually."

" 'Eventually' isn't soon enough." Dean stepped towards the door, pausing just in front of Castiel, and a look passed between the two, a look that had Castiel's wings shifting against the rough fabric of his coat. "I'm going to go dig through today's news." The words were spoken over his shoulder, directed towards Sam, and Alex glared sullenly down at the ground. "Maybe we missed something."

He didn't wait for a response before he stepped out of sight. Alex felt Castiel's eyes move across her, lingering on the reddened skin around her wrists, but by the time she finally lifted her head, the doorway was empty. "Are you okay?" Sam's words drew her gaze onto him, and Alex reined in her scowl. His face remained stern, but his eyes had darkened with hidden worry. For a moment, he didn't speak as his eyes moved across her, lingering on her face — Alex wouldn't be surprised if a bruise still marred the skin around her nose — before dropping down to her hands. She quickly turned her eyes away as he knelt in front of her, her wings twitching when his calloused fingers danced across the edge of her wrists. Alex hissed at the pain, and his fingers jerked away. "I'll talk to Dean," he said, rising back to his feet, and Alex grunted as he quickly dusted his hands off on his jeans. "And maybe, uh, get you something for that."

He stepped away, and Alex finally lifted her head. "Sam," she started, and the Winchester paused, his shaggy hair outlined by the light above his head. "Look. Even if I wanted to help you, I can't. What's the point in keeping me here?"

"I'm sorry." With a shake of his head, Sam stepped out of the room. The bookcase doors creaked shut, leaving her encased in concrete before the darkness took hold.

...

The darkness only accentuated the heat. Alex's palms sweat against her will, but the extra moisture didn't aid in her attempts at escape. For not the first time, the thought of breaking her thumbs crossed her mind, but she quickly, albeit reluctantly, pushed the idea away; Castiel would know the moment he felt her grace, and the Winchesters would be close on his heels. That thought alone had her nose throbbing, and she reached up to rub at it. The chains pulled taut, yanking her wrists back down into her lap, and Alex gave up with a sigh.

Time had blurred back together, each second of darkness stretching into minutes, each minute into hours. Maybe even days. Dean had not returned, but Sam had, just as he had promised. The first time was with a foul-smelling salve, meant for her sore wrists, and the second was to chastise her for pulling on the cuffs. Judging by the change of clothes, the gaps in between his visits surmounted to at least two days of darkness. But those gaps had been short compared to this current one, no more than a blink of the eye — how long had it been now, and how long would it be before someone came for her?

A door slammed shut, snapping Alex out of her silent thoughts. That was nearby. "Hello?" The chair creaked beneath her as she leaned forward, ears pricked as she tried to pinpoint its source. "Hey! You!" Her rasping shout echoed off of the concrete walls, drowning out the metallic click of her bonds, but no answer came. "Hey!" Her voice cracked, and Alex threw herself back into her chair, eyes squeezed shut against the darkness.

Another door creaked open: this one was much closer. Where were those footsteps? Her wings curled forward, brushing against the hard floor as her head tipped. Someone was on the other side of the bookshelves. Please don't let it be Dean. That thought had her wings shaking out, bare-bone vanes rattling nervously. The footsteps were drawing nearer, and there was only one set.

The first sign of light came as the doors unlatched, and Alex preemptively screwed up her eyes for the inevitable rush of brightness. Her wings drew back, crushed and ragged feathers cowering behind her chair, until the backlit figure stepped forward from the light. "Cas." The tension left Alex's shoulders, wings drooping against the ground. "I wasn't expecting you." Her eyes slid past him, searching for any sign of companions, but the room behind him was empty. "What, did you come here to rag on me as well?"

Castiel's face was the definition of blank composure, but the faint shifting of his wings, as battered and broken as her own, gave away his discomfort. "Sam and Dean are still upstairs," he said, stepping into the room, and Alex found herself reaching down within her, trying in vain to read his emotions through his grace: what was he feeling? Her fingers twitched, nails scraping against the small chains of her cuffs as Castiel came to stop in front of her. "Lucifer has been busy finding a new vessel."

Alex grunted, eyes flickering across his face before dropping to focus on his tie. "You found a new trail of bodies, huh?" She watched as a grimace marred his features, and she frowned. "High profile people?"she asked, waiting for Castiel to nod before she swept her wings across the dusty floor. "He's got a taste for power and he wants more. How many bodies did you find?"

"Two were vessels. One a businessman, the other an archbishop. We just got back from St. Louis." The frown on Castiel's face deepened, spreading until it darkened his blue eyes. "Lucifer slaughtered the entire archdioses. Sam and Dean think he acted in retaliation against the clergy who attempted to exorcise him."

Alex cocked an eyebrow. "And you don't?"

"Perhaps. But he left one alive for us to find. He wanted that priest to speak to us, to tell us what he had done. I think he was leaving us a message. About you." Something darted through those darkened eyes, a flicker of fear that had Alex's head tipping to the other side. "He's made it quite clear how he feels about you. I don't think he appreciates that we're keeping you here."

Unlikely. Lucifer had made it clear that she wasn't under his protection until she came crawling back. "Well, just make sure Dean knows those bodies are on his head," she muttered, and her bonds rattled as she shifted in the hard wooden chair. "Why are you telling me this?"

Castiel's eyes wandered, focusing on the wall behind Alex's right shoulder. For a moment, silence hung in the air, broken only when Alex's chains clinked. The seraph's hand disappeared into his pocket, and when it reemerged, his fingers were tightly clenched around a silver key. "Dean is wrong. Whatever you were doing with Lucifer, it kept him from massacring those around him." The handcuffs fell away, clattering to the concrete floor, and Alex's grace crackled, rising up to the surface as the barrier that held it back melted away. Castiel's bond was there, as vivid as it had ever been, and Alex felt it twinge with frustration and discomfort before she tied a knot around her brain. "Leave through the garage. I'll tell Sam and Dean that you escaped while we were away."

He stepped away, and Alex followed, rising to her feet with a graceful sweep of her wings. "Thank you." With the few inches that was between them, even her wall couldn't keep out the constant stream of thoughts that churned within the seraph's head. "You didn't have to do this for me, but I ... I appreciate it."

The racing thoughts suddenly ceased, replaced with clarity. "You should go."

Alex nodded, and she slipped past the seraph, her wings drawing back as feathers brushed against hers. The sharp rustle behind her signalled that Castiel had also recoiled, but Alex didn't feel him turn to watch her go.

The first step out of the dungeon was a breath of fresh, cold air, and her feet carried her down the hall, leaping up the concrete stairs. Each footfall barely echoed off of the walls, but she still found herself pausing at the second landing. Castiel had said Sam and Dean were in the library, so she reached out with her grace to confirm.

They were there, their voices a low, inaudible murmur, and Alex found herself weaving down the hallway, keeping her distance from the brothers until she found herself standing in front of the heavy oak door that separated her room from the rest of the bunker. Her fingers brushed across the golden inlaid NUMBER before dropping down to the door knob. One last thing before she left.

The room inside was dark, and Alex lifted her grace up to her eyes as she gently shut the door behind her. Someone had cleaned since she had last been there. The folded clothes she had left on the bed were gone, the dresser drawers neatly shut, and Alex let her eyes turn across the room before coming to rest on the small wooden desk in the corner. The shelf over it had been tidied up, her small collection of books and hunting journals leaned up against each other. Her gun sat in the center of the desk, confiscated by the Winchesters no doubt, but next to that lay a small envelope, the torn edges of a photograph peeking out from the top. That wasn't where she had left that.

Alex traced the corner with a fingertip, and she pulled the picture out just enough to see Bobby's smiling face. A pang of grief tightened her chest as she lifted the polaroid up to the dim light. Sam, his hair barely reaching his shoulders, with bright eyes and a boyish smile. Dean, with one arm slung across the shoulders of a young, grinning girl. Alex traced that round, child-like face. How had she ever been that young and innocent? Her eyes flickered up to the mirror against the far wall, wings twitching at the sight that greeted her. That child was gone: what stood in her place was a wolf, lean and wiry. Those grey eyes weren't soft anymore; now, they glittered with hunger.

Alex turned away, and the picture fluttered back down onto the desk. Would Bobby even be able to recognize her anymore? So much had changed.

Her eyes turned onto the dresser, and she shucked off her leather jacket as she pushed the reminiscing to the back of her mind. Castiel had promised to hold Sam and Dean back, but there was no promise for how long that would be. She needed to get going. Her jacket landed on the bed, quickly followed by her shirt, and Alex dug around for a change of clothes. A green jacket pulled over a grey plaid and black shirt sufficed, followed by her sturdy boots. Her gun stayed where it was: no need for that. A quick look around the room turned up her phone, fully charged and sitting on the nightstand — again, not where she had left it. Sam must have put it there.

When Alex stepped back out into the hallway, she paused, listening for any sign of the Winchesters. Dean was on the move; Alex knew those heavy footfalls anywhere. They were headed down the stairs, and Alex swallowed back her nerves as she skirted around to the other, smaller set of stairs. "She must have escaped while we were out." In the back of her mind, she could see through Castiel's eyes, staring at the empty chair. Dean stood beside it, his fists clenched at his side, and Alex almost tripped over the last step as he looked straight into Castiel's eyes. Into her eyes.

Her broken wings flittered as she caught her balance, and she all but ran towards the garage door. "She couldn't have gotten far." Dean was already pushing his way past Cas. "The seat's still warm. We must have just missed her."

Alex screwed up her eyes, ready for the sun as she threw open the door and stepped out into the — the night. It was night. She stopped on the threshold, eyes stretched wide as she looked up at the half moon. The dark was the perfect place to hide. In the back of her mind, she could see Dean marching up the stairs. Sam was just ahead of him, standing in the landing, but Alex couldn't see his face. I'm outside. She sent the prayer along the bond to Castiel, and she only had a moment to feel his relief before it was swallowed up by nothingness. The window in the back of her mind vanished as his grace pushed her out from his head. Alex only let her displeasure show for a moment before she crushed the feeling; she could dwell on it when she was safely away from here.

She started away from the hollow structure that sat above the bunker, cutting through the long grass as she headed northwards. There was a town only a mile or two out, near enough that she could reach it before the horizon grew light. Plus, the dip in the ground just ahead that would hide her well should the Winchesters come looking. All she had to do was lay low until they had come and gone.

Part of her wanted to reach out for Lucifer, to call his name and have him come take her away, but the larger majority of her kept silent. She didn't need his help. Especially if that help came only a few days after her pronouncement of independence and subsequent capture. There was no point in trying to hide it; Castiel was right that Lucifer's slaughter was a message. But she could at least wait a bit before she approached him again. Her grace shifted restlessly within her, searching for Lucifer's comforting chill, and Alex skidded down the dirt hill with a barely-disguised snarl. She didn't need him, no matter what he thought, no matter how much her grace reached for that empty space he had occupied.

Light flooded from the bunker behind her, and Alex hit the ground in a tangle of wings and limbs. She lay there in the long grass, hidden from sight. There was a voice rising through the air — Dean's voice — full of frustration, and Alex pressed herself closer to the ground. Should the Winchesters choose to climb that hill and peer down the other side, they would surely see her. She held her breath as she listened, desperately searching for any sign of approaching footsteps, but Dean's voice had already begun to fade, and a moment later the light disappeared, sending the countryside back into darkness.

Alex wasn't sure how long she lay there, teeth grit against the grass that poked up through her clothes. Eventually she had to force herself to rise to her feet and scramble down the rest of the hill to start across the rolling plains. She could reach Lebanon long before dawn. And from there ... from there, she would stay as far away from Lucifer until she could decide what to do.

Rain poured down from the South Dakota sky, soaking Alex to the bone. It bounced off of the cracked asphalt, seeping through her leather boots until the sloshed with each step she took. She clung to the side of the highway, and a gust of wind had her head ducking down to hide from the chill that stung at her ears. The darkened road occasionally lit up with the yellow glow of headlights as a car sped past; the bare broken vanes of her wings did little to protect her from the splashes.

She glanced off behind her, back towards the expansive swath of highway. The car she had borrowed from a mechanic's shop in Lebanon had died half a mile back, and she had left it, abandoned, on the shoulder.

A car sped by in the pouring rain, and Alex shielded her eyes against the iridescent brights until it had passed. There was a squeal of tires; Alex didn't have to look back to know that the vehicle had swung around. She lowered her head as the car rolled up behind her, and she turned her collar up against the wind. Whoop whoop. Sirens sounded twice in rapid succession, and Alex reluctantly came to a stop as the cop car rolled up beside her.

The window rolled down, and Alex ducked her head to peer into the cab of the car. "Great." Alex whipped her head around, hands shoved deep into her jacket. "How'd you find me?"

"Local woman called in about a young girl wandering up 29." The car shuddered as Jody Mills pressed down further on the brakes. "I was on duty and have something of a reputation with wandering teens, what between you and Claire and Alex — my Alex." Once again the car shuddered, this time as it jerked into park. "Why don't you hop in? Let's get you out of this rain."

"No thank you." Thunder cracked over Alex's head, almost drowning out her words. "I don't know what Sam and Dean told you —"

"Don't worry about them." Jody leaned over to unlock the door. "They didn't put out an APB, if that's what you're worried about." Undisguised interest lit up her eyes before it was quelled. "I'll take you back to the station and let you warm up. You can't just keep wandering around here at night like this," she added, her voice growing brusque when Alex hesitated. "Don't make me break out my handcuffs."

Those words had Alex wincing, and her hands instinctively rubbed at her wrists; her grace may have healed the chafed skin, but the memory remained. "I'd rather you not," she muttered, and she yanked open the door to slide into the front seat. "I'm sure I'm probably the last person on earth you want to see," she added, reaching for her seatbelt.

She watched Jody from the corner of her eyes as she spoke. "Not even close, sweetheart." The comforting words were undermined by the brisk tone, a hardness that immediately softened. "I've met a whole lot worse than you."

"You know worse people than the devil's bestie, huh?" Alex forced a chuckle, humor that died when Jody sighed.

"How many years have we known each other? Almost eight now?" The engine revved as Jody pulled the car back onto the highway. "You're not a bad person, Alex. Whatever it is that you're doing here, I can't believe that you're doing it for the wrong reasons."

Alex folded her hands in her lap, stifling a shiver as the warm air blowing from the vents hit her wet skin. "Hey, can I ask you a question?" There was a moment of silence before Jody hummed, and Alex rubbed her hands against her jeans. The question sat on the tip of her tongue, but it refused to go any further. After a moment, she managed to stutter out, "How — how did you meet Sean?"

Jody gave a puzzled frown at her husband's name. "Uh, we met at a friend's party back in college. And then five years later, I arrested him and his buddies for camping out on the roof of this abandoned Hersey's factory on the south side of town. He had the nerve to ask me out after posting bail." The sheriff's voice grew soft and distant, reminiscent of happier times.

"And Crowl — uh, Roderick?"

Those words chilled the car, and Alex turned her eyes out the window as a sign flew by. "Online," Jody said, and Alex cocked an eyebrow at the bite to her tone. "Don't worry, I'm never doing that again."

"Okay, but what, uh, what attracted you to him?" Alex reached out to fiddle with the vent, directing the air towards her face. "Uh, before he, uh — before he tried to kill you with a hexbag."

She dropped her gaze to her lap, wings twitching as she felt Jody's eyes linger on her. "Well, he was charming, I suppose." Jody spoke slowly, her voice low. "Very attentive. He seemed to care about me. I mean, until he tried to kill me." She laughed, a single, scoffing sound that quickly faded into silence. "Why?"

Alex picked at a hole in her jeans, rolling the frayed ends between her fingertips as she contemplated her next words. "What if ... I mean, if he hadn't tried to kill you ... would you have believed it? That he actually cared?" The question was met with silence, and Alex's fingers returned to her jeans, nervously plucking at the seam. "Or that he was at least capable of caring?"

She watched Jody from the corner of her eye until the sheriff heaved a heavy sigh. "All I know is that Crowley was using me to get to you guys," she finally said, and Alex's eyes closed. "Why do you —"

"Nothing. Just making conversation." Alex's attention turned up towards the sky, teeth digging into her bottom lip. Her grace curled up inside of her, scouring along Castiel's bond in search of Lucifer, and she pulled back with a sigh of her own. "I'm just ... thinking out loud."

She wasn't prepared for the hand that came to rest on her knee, staying only long enough to give one quick squeeze before it pulled away. "You know, people only show others the side that they want them to see. Sometimes, it's hard for people to see the good when all they've been shown is the bad." And vice versa. That unspoken addition clung to the air, and Alex's toes curled in her boots. "So ... dare I ask why the Winchesters would be looking for you?"

"Same as last time, I'm afraid. Exactly the same." Alex rubbed at her wrists. "They want to know ... you know, where Lucifer is, and I told them I couldn't help. Literally. I have no idea where he is." The lights of Sioux Falls came into view through the downpour, illuminating the blackened sky, and Alex sunk further into her seat. "You can just let me off at the bus station," she mumbled. "I'm just heading west."

"Not a chance." Jody's brusque voice had Alex's stomach plummeting, and she drew her shoulders back defensively as her wings prickled. "We're going back to the station, and once I tell Mueller that everything checks out, you and I are going back to my place. I think I have a change of clothes that'll fit you." The sheriff looked over at Alex, and the pensive frown faded away. "Don't worry. Claire and Alex — my Alex — are down in Omaha for a Mumford & Sons concert. They won't be back until tomorrow night — tonight," she corrected, glancing at the clock, and Alex did the same. 3:17 am. "The least I can do is give you a hot shower and a warm meal before I send you on your way. And," she added after a moment's pause, "if you do, I promise I won't tell Sam and Dean you were through here."

Alex turned her eyes out the window with a thoughtful hum. A few hours' rest, far from the Winchesters' reach, couldn't hurt. Best case scenario, it could even shake them from her tail. "You drive a tough bargain, Mills. I'm not sure I have much of a choice."

Wryness twisted her words, but the sheriff either didn't notice or didn't care. "Like hell you do." She guided the car around the corner, and the Sioux Falls Police Department came into view, the floodlights cutting through the sheets of rain. "Alright, five minutes inside, then we'll go home." The brown and white sedan pulled up into the parking lot, and Jody turned to face her as the engine died. "You wanna wait inside or in here?"

"I'll come in." Alex's hands were already on the door handle, and her eyes narrowed against the downpour as she stepped outside. Somehow, the five minute drive had already started to dry her out, and the return to the rain had her shuddering. She glanced over at Jody Mills, concern painting her features as the woman hurried towards the door, her shoulders hunched against the cold. She was already soaked. Alex's wings extended towards her, but she was quick to draw the weathered, useless feathers back. They dragged across the wet pavement as she trailed after the sheriff, following her through the front doors and into the lobby. The front desk was lit but unoccupied, and Alex rubbed at her sleeves as she waited for Jody to unlock the door leading the way into the station.

"You're back." A fair skinned, thickset individual was leaning against one of the desks, a cup of coffee in his hands — black. The smell of it filled the room, bitter and sulphuric. "That who Marie saw walking 29?"

"Yup. Chris, you remember Alex, right? Not my Alex — Bobby's Alex."

"Right, right." Chris Mueller's eyes swept across her, and the corner of his mouth twitched downwards. "Singer's girl. It's been a long time since you've caused any trouble around here." His gaze swung over to Jody. "Mind if I take her back to room B? Charlie's out investigating a car on route 29 that's matching the description of a stolen vehicle out of Lebanon, Kansas."

Alex felt Jody's eyes on the side of her head, and she chanced a look up at the sheriff's disapproving frown. With Chris standing on her other side, all Alex could do was offer up a shrug. Jody's chest rose and fell in a sigh. "Ten minutes," she said, moving past Alex to poke Chris in the sternum. "Then I'm taking her home to warm up."

With a shrug, Alex followed after Chris Mueller, hands shoved deep into her damp pockets. The interrogation rooms were set towards the back of the station, and Alex shrugged her jacket off to hang it over the back of the chair, wings flicking as she heard the door shut behind her. "So," she began, turning just in time to watch Chris lock the door, "is this some sort of good cop bad cop routine, or did Crowley put you up to this?"

Chris' eyes flickered black, and for a moment his true face shone through, scarred and warped with agony. "Little bit of both, I suppose." He planted his hands on the back of the other chair, and metal scraped against concrete as Alex pushed her own seat back to toss her legs up onto the table. "Crowley set up a perimeter around Lebanon in case you got out."

"Wait." Alex immediately let her feet fall back into the floor, and she leaned forward. "You've been following me since Kansas? Why'd you crawl out of the woodworks here of all places? That highway was empty — you could have nabbed me at any point. Why now?"

"I had to make sure you were alone." The way the demon's eyes darted towards the door made it clear who he had worried was about. Lucifer. Alex's own eyes drifted up to the buzzing florescent lights, frowning as she did so. Crowley was apparently keeping tabs on her: was he? "Don't bother trying to reach him." The demon's words had Alex's gaze falling back down. "No prayers are getting in or out of here." He stepped away to pace the length of the room, and Alex's eyes found the geometric rune behind him, written in white chalk against the grey stone. "I've never met Lucifer — and I never plan to, okay? — but with everything I've heard about him and you, I took a few precautions."

Heard? "I forgot how much you demons gossip." On instinct, Alex's wings curled forward, and she swept them back. "What sort of rumors are you talking about?"

"Not so much rumors, more of advice. Never get in between a hungry dog and its meal." Chris scoffed, and he turned to start back towards the door. His eyes found hers, and he paused. "I thought you two were supposed to be joined at the hip."

Alex flicked a wing, dragging her broken feathers across the smooth tiles. "We're taking a break."

"Allegedly." A low, smooth voice came from the corner of the room, and Alex's wings instinctively dropped, her head swinging to the left. Lucifer stood in the corner, leaned up against the brick as he studied the mounted black camera. "It looks like someone broke this," he hummed, pensively fingering the frayed wires. Alex turned back around as his eyes left the camera, the facade of thoughtfulness falling away to reveal a darker glint. "Guess big brother isn't watching."

"Lucifer." Chris' feet carried him back a step. "I thought — she just said you two —"

Alex stared at the table as Lucifer stopped at her side, one hand planted against the back of her chair. "I know, I know. She's got some crazy ideas in that head of hers, doesn't she?" The words, spoken in fondness, carried a hint of mocking that had Alex's feathers ruffling. "But you, you take the cake." Lucifer's wings snapped out, propelling him forward past the table to grab the demon by the throat. "This was just stupid."

"Lucifer." Alex thrust her chair back as she jumped to her feet, and the metal legs squealed as they scraped against the floor. The archangel's head turned towards her, and Chris' hands scrabbled against the fingers that held him up above the ground. What are you doing here? How did you find me? How did you find that vessel? Questions flooded through her brain, crowding her tongue, and Alex settled for a glare. Lucifer's gaze moved across her, silent and curious, and Alex's eyes flicked towards the drawn sigil before returning to the demon. He couldn't hear her thoughts "Don't hurt that vessel," she finally settled on saying. "I, uh ... he works with Jody."

Lucifer's teeth flashed in a white grin, and his wings folded in as he set the demon back on the ground. "Well, today's your lucky day," he said, smoothing down Chris' shirt. The smile vanished. "Now get out of my sight."

The demon waited only a second before he fled, head thrown back as black smoke poured from his mouth. The vessel crumpled to the ground as the smoke spiraled through the air and into the duct above their heads. Lucifer's eyes met hers and, with a snap of his fingers, the edges of the vent exploded in a fiery red glow. "What are you doing here?" Alex spoke up over the demon's disembodied scream that echoed through her mind — her eyes flickered towards the door with a frown; hopefully Jody hadn't overheard.

"Doing here?" Lucifer's words drew her attention back onto him. "If that's your idea of gratitude, enay ..." The deep, throaty chuckle that followed felt out of place for Lucifer's demeanor, and Alex's eyes turned from his face down to the rest of his vessel. Square-jawed, blue-eyed, tall and suited. A first glance may have considered him attractive, if not for ...

"Oh my god." Her interjection had Lucifer frowning. "That's Rooney. You ... how ... you're possessing the President of the United States?" Somehow, she managed to splutter the words out.

"Do you like it? I just picked him up last night." Lucifer looked past her to the one-sided mirror, and he grinned. "He's strong, stable. And younger than Vince was." He stepped forward, and Alex pinned her wings up against her back as he drew nearer. "That's what you wanted, right?"

The way he circled around the table reminded Alex of the way a cat corners its prey, and her breath hitched, feathers stretching out as she fought to keep her wings from falling low. "What?" she snapped, forcing anger into her voice. "You thought I'd just come crawling back because you hopped into a new body?" The smirk on Lucifer's face had her faux vexation replaced with real indignation. "I told you to stop going after public figures! The Winchesters are pulling every string they can reach to find you, and you're wearing Jeff Rooney? Why don't you just put a sign in the front yard that says 'hey, I'm in here'?"

"I'm sure they'll come after me." Lucifer leaned against the table, and Alex retreated back towards the wall. "But how close can they get?" His smile faded as he watched her draw away, and his fingers clenched around the edge of the table. "How long before you give up on this game, little lamb? I'm getting tired of its premise."

"It's not a game!" Yes it is. Alex crossed her arms, lips pursed as she forced herself to look into Lucifer's eyes. "Why are you following me around? Don't you have something better to do?"

"I told you I wasn't going to chase after you anymore." Alex felt her heart drop, but she hid it with a scowl. "But I won't let you fall into Crowley's hands." Lucifer pushed himself to his feet, and he drew himself up to his full height, one hand going to toy with the knot in his tie. His voice dropped low, losing its rigid tone. "You'll have to make up your mind soon, Alex. I have more than one suitor ready to throw themselves at my feet."

"Yeah right." Alex's wings swept out, primaries spread wide. "Why are you gonna do? Take one of them as your mate just to spite me?" She scoffed even as she felt her stomach flip up into her chest. He wouldn't dare. Her feathers started to bristle, and she flared her wings up until they arched up above her head. "You wouldn't dare!"

"We're not mates. What does it matter to you?"

"It doesn't! Do whatever the hell you want. See if I care!" Alex tilted her chin up as Lucifer glided forward, jaw clenched as she found herself backed up against the wall. "Did you just come here to boast?" Chase me. That thought, unbidden, jumped to her mind. Her tongue darted out to lick at her lips, and for a second, she wished the archangel was in her head to overhear. If you want me so badly, prove it.

A hand came up to her cheek, the calloused pads of his fingers hovering over her smooth freckled skin. "You know where to find me."

And then he was gone. Alex's wings curled forward towards the open air, her grace aching despite the frustration that burned her cheeks. He hadn't even touched her. Not with his hands, not with his grace. And he had done it on purpose. Alex clenched her fists and pushed off from the wall, her wings flapping twice as she snarled. Other suitors? She scoffed. He was bluffing to get her to run after him. Again. The thought of revenge passed through her head, an idea quickly dismissed as her eyes fell onto the pair of legs just visible from beyond the table. Lucifer wouldn't hesitate to put a hole in the chest of whatever unlucky soul she chose, no questions asked.

From the ground, Chris was beginning to stir, and Alex crossed the room to kneel at his side. Lucifer had left him alive — at her request. Anger bubbled up under her skin. And Dean had thought she wasn't doing any good. Chris' eyes flickered open, pupils dilated as he stared blankly at the tile ceiling, and Alex shook off the anger to replace it with a veneer of frantic concern. "Are you okay?" She placed a hand upon his forehead, her grace snaking through his limbs, and she frowned. "You just collapsed on the ground and started shaking. I — I think you had a seizure." She opened her eyes wide, emulating panic as she pulled away. He was fine. "How do you feel?"

"I ..." Chris pushed himself up until he was sitting, and Alex rocked back onto her heels as he rubbed at his temples. "I feel dizzy. The last thing I remember is getting up to make coffee, and then ..." Chris' eyes swept past her then snapped back. "A-Alex? What are you doing here?"

Alex was saved from a response by a knock on the door, and she looked up just in time to watch Jody step into the room. It took the sheriff a moment to take in the scene in front of her before her eyes opened wide. "What the hell happened here?"

Alex wasted little time in repeating her lie, adding, "You should get him over to County General to have someone check him out." Leaving Chris on the floor, she headed towards the door, sidestepping Jody as the sheriff pressed her phone up against her ear. Their eyes met, and Alex ducked her head, muttering, "I'll grab him some water."

She kept her promise, retrieving a bottle from the fridge in the break room, but she only stuck around long enough to make sure Chris took a drink before she slipped back away, grabbing her damp jacket from the chair and ducking to the door.

"Where are you going?" Jody's voice stopped her before she could step out into the night. Alex paused, one hand on the metal bar, and her shoulders rose and fell in a sigh as she turned around. "What happened back there?" Jody stepped forward, and Alex reluctantly did the same, stepping away from the door. "What did you do?"

Do? Alex's feathers bristled. "I didn't do anything," she protested, and she took a step closer as her voice dropped into a hiss. "It was demon possession, okay?" she muttered. "Crowley's after me for some reason or another, which means it's time for me to go." What reason? Alex scrubbed at the back of her neck, some of her frustrations melting away as she thought. Crowley wouldn't dare try and grab her, not while Lucifer was out there — besides, he was the one who wanted her on the loose. What was his endgame? She reached over the front of the reception desk, digging around through the basket of pens until she found a black marker. "Lucifer taught me something a long time ago, from the last time Crowley was hunting me down. It might not be able to hide me entirely, but it'll mask my wings and my grace. If I'm lucky, no one will notice me if they don't look too closely." She tore the cap off with her teeth and pressed the cold marker tip into the skin of her wrist, replicating the sigil to the best of her memory with smooth, unbroken strokes. The moment the last curved line fell into place, the sigil flashed white. Alex curled one of her wings forward to see that the feathers; though still visible to her, were hazy, almost blurred. "There." She tossed the marker back onto the desk with a satisfied nod. "That'll have to do." For the first time, she noticed the folder that was clutched in Jody's hands. "What's that?"

"Nothing. It's, uh, it's nothing." With a shake of her head, Jody dropped the folder onto the corner of the desk, just out of Alex's reach. "I was hoping you would have had time to help me with something, but if you have to go, go. I'll have Sam and Dean take a look at it."

"What?" That was the last thing she needed. "You mean you have a case?" Alex slowly stretched forward to grab the folder, eyes searching Jody's face for any sign of dishonesty." "I mean, if it's a simple salt and burn or like a vamp nest that needs to go, I can take care of it tonight." Anything to keep the Winchesters away. Her wings twitched in excitement before she could still them; a quick hunt might be just the thing to unleash her frustrations, but ... part of her hoped Jody would say no. Something complicated might distract the brothers long enough to give her a few days headstart.

"It's definitely a case, but I have no clue what I'm dealing with. Whatever it is, though, it likes to keep its prey alive for days. The victim was missing for almost a week, but when he was found, the coroner said he'd been dead for less than eight hours. Some hitchhikers found the body a mile south of Saddlebrook farm." Jody nodded towards the folder, and Alex flipped it open. "By all accounts it looks like a vampire, but I've never seen bite marks like those before." The top photo was a close up of a cadaver's neck. There were four distinct punctures, all grouped close together in an upper and lower bite. A second, smaller set of bruises lined the holes on either side. A very distinctive bite indeed. "It's almost like a snake bite —"

"It's a vetala." Alex closed the folder with a shake of her head. "Or, vetalas. They usually hunt in pairs, although sometimes you'll see a larger pack. How many bodies?"

"Just one."

"And you think they're holed up at Saddlebrook?" When Jody nodded, Alex dropped the folder beside the discarded marker. "Yeah, I'll hit up the farm on my way out of town. Vetalas are tricky, but nothing I haven't handled before ..." A flash of crimson in the corner of her eye had Alex stepping back, and the cocky confidence drained away, leaving her cheeks pale. Had that been real, or just a figment of her mind? Her grace snapped out like a whip, but all it found was human souls and empty air. Her faltering didn't go unnoticed, and Alex scrubbed at her temple. Maybe she was starting to lose it. "I'll, uh, I'll let you know what I find," she mumbled, and then she hurried out the door.

A stolen car from two blocks away took Alex up through the north of town and back onto the highway. The road was dark, void of life at the early hours of the morning, but it wasn't long before the wooden, leaning structures of the abandoned Saddlebrook farm came into sight through the morning fog. Saddlebrook Estates, est. 1931, a wooden sign read, the paint faded and peeling. A dirt road sprouted off from the pavement, and Alex guided the rusted sedan onto the rocky stretch, killing the headlights as she did so. She let the car roll forward at its own speed, only killing the engine when the grass rose high enough to conceal the vehicle from sight of the main road.

The old buildings lay a hundred feet further up the old driveway, dark and quiet, but Alex still moved slowly to avoid any noise as she slipped from the car and onto the overgrown road. If she were lucky, any creature residing there would think the rusted splutters on the engine, already quiet, was nothing more than a passing car.

Her grace made her approach silent, a shadow in the night; only her angel blade, dropped into her hands as she neared the barn, gave any indication of her presence as it caught in the thin moonlight. She paused at the broken doors, rotted at the hinges, and her grace rose up to her eyes as she peered inside. A rusted tiller sat in the corner, a leather harness hanging from the yoke, and the remnants of the bottles and cigarettes littered the dusty floor. Alex flared her nostrils as she inhaled. The metallic tang of blood clung to the air, little more than a faint hint. Perhaps a fox had dragged its kill in here to eat in peace, or maybe it was something more malevolent. Impossible to tell. And whatever it was, it was no longer there.

Alex stepped away, unable to stop her wings from flicking distastefully. If the vetalas had been here, there was a good chance that they had already moved on.

The leaning house lay maybe twenty yards to the left, and Alex slunk towards it, wings drawn in as she clung to the shadows. She could see the front door up ahead, barely hanging upright but still somehow pulled shut. Beneath her feet, the porch groaned and creaked, and Alex hesitated on the threshold, listening for any signs of life, before she nudged the door open.

The first thing she noticed, even before her eyes had adjusted, was the unmistakable stench of warm, freshly-spilled blood. The second thing was the body, half-hidden by the shadows. The pooled blood shone silver where the thin strips of moonlight, filtering through the boarded windows to crisscross the dusty floor, caught them. One of the stripes illumined the corpse's face; the mouth was twisted, frozen in a snarl, and even though the eyes had glazed over with the fog of death, the undisguised sheen of hatred lingered still. A thin line of blood trickled from her mouth, staining the cluster of needle-like fangs that protruded from her gaping jaws.

She was a vetala. Alex crept closer, a sudden wave of unease running down her spine. The source of the blood came not from the mouth, but from the hole torn clean through the vetala's chest. The flesh was mangled, glistening red, and Alex sharply exhaled through her nose to chase off the smell of death as she stared down at the corpse. Blood decorated the rotted walls, mixed with chunks of skin and guts. Who could have done this?

She crept further into the house. The rooms were cold, so much cooler than the air outside that it had Alex's grace quivering as she reached the end of the hallway.

The vetala in the entryway had been placed there for her. That much became immediately clear as she stepped into the living room. A second corpse lay at her feet, the rage of his dying breath still etched into the bloodless lips. The body lay flat, chest down, but the eyes, no more than burnt and empty sockets, stared up towards the heavens. Beyond that lay a third —or, at least, parts of a third; an arm had been ripped clean off, and a ragged stump sat where the head once had — and only a few feet further away lay the fourth body, splayed face down at the foot of a wooden chair.

The chair was occupied. Alex's wings crept upwards, feathers fanning out threateningly as she stared at the man seated in the center of the carnage. Lucifer had one foot planted on the shoulders of the corpse, and in one hand he held a vetala's head — presumably from the third. His free hand was toying with the fangs, moving the jaw up and down in almost a comedical fashion. He didn't look up at her arrival, but his fingers did pause. "Hey." Lucifer tossed the head over his shoulder, and it landed on the floor with a wet thump. "Come on in."

Alex didn't move from the doorway, but she did nervously twist her weapon in her hands; Lucifer's head turned as the silver caught in the moonlight. "What are you doing here?"

"What does it look like?" Lucifer spread his arms out, and he rose, feathers rustling as his wings settled against his back. He stepped over the body at his feet without so much as a glance, and Alex lifted her chin as he approached. "You were right, by the way. They were vetalas. I killed three of them." Three? Alex's eyes darted around the room, tallying up the corpses. They landed on the fourth, the one now behind the devil, and he followed her gaze. "He was their meal, I imagine. He saw my face, and after all of this," — he motioned around the blood-splattered room — "he had to go. I mean —"

"Lucifer. What are you doing here?"

Lucifer's lips pursed into a frown, almost petulant in nature, and he stopped in front of her. "Hunting." The answer was innocent and plain, so much so that it almost sounded mocking. "You seemed to enjoy it so much I thought, why not give it a shot myself." He glanced behind her, and Alex let her eyes flicker across his vessel; his white oxford was rolled up to the elbows, and blood stained his large hands. "I gotta say, I had a good time."

"I told you to leave me alone!" Alex's wings exploded outwards, and it was all she could do to stop herself from stomping a foot in frustration. "What the hell are you doing, following me around like this?" And killing them all before me. Asshole.

"Vetalas are tricky creatures. It takes an expert touch to handle them properly." Lucifer stepped away, and Alex moved after him, her eyes stretched wide in indignation.

"I am the expert!" she insisted; her voice cracked as rushed forward to circle around Lucifer, forcing him to stop short before he walked right into her. "I'm a hunter, and I'm more than capable of killing a couple of — a couple of vampire knock-offs!" This time, she did stomp her foot, regardless of how childish it appeared. "You just did this cause you're pissed at me! That's it, isn't it? I'm not gonna just roll over for you, so you're going to make my life a living hell!"

Lucifer's eyes hardened, and Alex's feet carried her one step back. She wanted to push him, but by the look on his face, that may have been too far. "Hell?" he repeated, and the hairs on the back of Alex's neck prickled as he stepped forward. "You really think this is hell? This?" He scoffed, and Alex fought the urge to look anywhere else but his face. The humor was long gone, replaced with hardened ice. "If you want to see hell, I can show you hell. How long do you think you'd last, little one? How many days before you're begging for me to ease your suffering?" His voice had dropped, a murmur in her ears, but to Alex, they seemed to pound through her skull as loudly as her heart. Her lips parted, but no sound escaped; no words made it past her dry throat. The expression on her face, eyes wide and mouth hanging open, had Lucifer's gaze softening ever so slightly. "Don't look so worried, enay." His wings flicked in ... amusement? "We both know it won't come to that. But be thankful I'm pursuing your jealousy, not your blood."

Jealousy? Alex snorted. He had already tried that angle back in LA. How much further could he possibly push it? She eyed the archangel carefully, but his face was unreadable, and she resisted the urge to reach for his grace. If he was still seeking out her jealousy, then he knew she hadn't meant it when she had stormed off backstage. He knew this was just a game. But what rules was he playing by? "I appreciate that," she said dryly — well, as dryly as she could manage with her voice threatening to shake; a deep breath through her nose seemed to quell it. "But I don't know why you'd think I'd be jealous — jealous for what?" That didn't make sense. With the reek of blood in the air, with the way Lucifer was watching her, the amusement in his eyes — still! What did he find so funny? — it was hard to think straight. Any hopes that the mistake had slipped by was dashed by the faint smirk, there one second, gone the next. Damn him!

She opened her mouth, ready to tell him off, but a groan from within the house had her head snapping to the side. "Oh, right." Lucifer stepped away, and one wing flicked off towards the source, a flash of glittering crimson. The groan came again, a mixture of rage and anguish. "I made sure to leave one for you. Better hurry before he gives up and dies on his own."

"You —" Alex went to jab Lucifer in the chest, but the archangel easily sidestepped the attack. "Stop following me around! Stop taking my kills, and stop — agh!" She ended in a scream of frustration as Lucifer vanished, leaving her standing alone in the dark room. "I hate you!"

The words bounced off the chipped and peeling walls, and Alex flinched at the sour taste it left in her mouth. He was an idiot, playing an idiotic game — what, did he think that by standing just out of reach that he could entice her to throw herself after him? He was supposed to come after her! Another scream bubbled up, and she grit her teeth to keep it in. Castiel's grace was stirring, shifting in clear discomfort, and Alex spun around, lashing out with a snarl. Her fist collided with the brick fireplace, but her own grace numbed the pain, knitting together the soft tissue that had split under the impact. Oh well. The moment of discomfort was already fading, taking with it some of her anger. Not much, but just enough for her to regain control. He thinks he's going to win. That unwelcome thought rushed through her mind, joined by the memory of that smug smile, and Alex's weapon fell back into her hand. She could be just as stubborn as that wool-headed — that groan came a third time, softer this time, and feathers rattled as Alex shook out her wings. That vetala was dying, and it was dying quick — Lucifer was just going to have to wait.