I dropped into the driver's seat and slid the key into the ignition.

I looked up at the suburban home that offered restraint and secrecy, but safety.

I thought the town did too, but I was mistaken.

I sighed out loud, debating if this was truly a good idea, but felt that familiar pull and twisted the keys and flinched as the Challenger roared to life. I watched as my Parents' bedroom window lit up, and I didn't have anymore heistation anymore.

I shifted the gears and peeled out of the driveway, backwards, before dad had time to get to the front door. I shifted the gears once more, made eye contact with Dad - then Mom, who was smiling - and then spun tires as I shot down the road.

I glanced at the review mirror and sighed as I pressed on.

"Come on..." I sighed, quietly, glancing at the radio clock, and glaring up at Nick's house, which was half-lit. I groaned out loud and slammed my head against the headrest, only to jolt upright at the sound of someone's voice right outside the driver's side.

"Hey."

"Fuck!"  I gasped, drawing my Glock, and watching the color drain from Nick's face.

"What the -?" He started,  but I withdrew it and gestured for him to get in. "- Why do you have a gun, where did you get that? What exactly are we doing?"

"The only way for me to tell you is to show you," I stated, realizing he had the passenger door open, but wasn't getting in. "Are you coming or not?"

"I don't know anymore..."  He hesitated.  "...Dani, I've never seen you like this before -"

"- I've never had to hunt down my sister." I snapped back, earning a firm nod.

"Fair." He shrugged, dropping into the passenger seat, and barely managed to put his bag down in the backseat and shut the door before I spun the tires again and allowed the engine to roar through the neighborhood. "Dani, what the hell?"

"Look, if you're going to ask 'what the hell' or 'what the fuck' the entire time, I'll drop you back off at home," I warned, glancing over at him as he hesitated, but straightened up in the seat and nodded.

He fell quiet.

"Nick," I sighed, finally after ten minutes of silence and we finally exited the city limits. "There's a part of me you don't know about."

"Okay," He nodded, looking over at me as I kept my eyes on the road. "are you secretly an FBI agent or something?"

"I wish," I smirked, glancing over at his mildly amused grin. "I'm a hunter."

"A Hunter." He repeated, turning to the windshield. 

"Yes," I replied, turning down the radio.

He nodded to himself and watched the streetlights pass the car.

"Nothing to say?" I finally broke the silence as he paused.

"What's so secretive about a Hunter?" He asked, looking from the window to my focused expression. "Also, 'hunters' as you call it, don't hunt with those." He gestured at the Glock in the glove compartment.

"I'm not a normal Hunter," I stated, glancing at him. "I hunt things."

"What things?"  Nick pushed, allowing his face to wrinkle in frustration and confusion.

"I hunt things like..." I sighed, glancing at him again. He looked as if he was hanging on every word that was coming out of my mouth. "...Witches, Werewolves, Vampires, Ghosts...and other -"

"- Myths?" Nick blinked.

"That's what normal people call them, I guess." I shrugged, realizing he was staring at me in disbelief. "You don't believe me, do you?"

"I think you need to be going to a hospital, not wherever the hell we're going now..." Nick giggled, but then the giggles faded when he realized I wasn't laughing. "...you're serious?"

"Yes." I nodded, glancing from the road to the backseat as I pulled out the evidence bag of fur.

"Dani, you stole this?!" shouted Nick, gasping and snatching it out of my hand.

"Will you chill?" I shot, rolling my eyes as I adjusted myself back to driving.  "Mom swiped it off the coffee table and gave it to me, it's not just a tuff of fur Nick -"

"- what is it?" He asked, peering through the plastic at it "A Warewolf?" He joked and started to snicker as that, too, faded when he realized I wasn't laughing.

"Yes." I simply stated. "Nick, if you're not comfortable with this, I can take you back home -"

"- and leave you out here chasing imaginary predators?" He shot, tossing the evidence bag back into the backseat.

"You think I'm crazy." I snapped back.

'I think you think you're not crazy."  He replied.

I slammed on the brakes, causing Nick to jolt forward and brace himself against the dashboard with a little bit of fear laced on his lips.

"Danielle!" He shouted, rounding on me and then glancing behind us.

"No one is behind us." I snarled, putting the car in park.

"How do you know someone won't come  flying up and rear-end you?" He asked, turning from me and beaming through the back windshield.

"They won't." I insisted.

"How do you know?!" He almost shouted, then realized he had yelled and almost shrunk back into his seat.

"Because we're at a crossroads," I stated, as he finally looked outside the car and the realization of us being in the middle of nowhere, at an actual crossroads, set in. "A crossroads is sacred."

I smirked, holding out my hand and with some hesitation, he reached back into the backseat grabbed the evidence bag, and passed it to me.

"What are you doing?" He asked, attempting to open the door, but I shoved it shut.

"You stay here, and just..." I paused, glancing at the middle of the crossroads and then back at him. "...watch."

Nick watched, in almost horror, as I walked to the back of the car, opened the trunk to grab something, and then shut it tight. He then watched as I walked to the middle of the crossroads.

I walked up and looked in all four directions and took in the crisp November air that definitely had a hint of December snow in it.

I began to dig a hole in the center of the crossroads placed the box I had gotten out of my trunk, and began to dig through my pockets. I pulled out that same picture collage of Sierra and I and ripped off one of the two pictures of me, it wasn't perfect - but it didn't have to be.

I placed my picture in the box along with some graveyard dirt, that always kept around my neck in a small, very tiny jar. I sighed and rose to my feet and returned to the car to start digging through my bag.

"Now what are you doing?" asked Nick, following my movements.

"I need a bone," I stated, pulling out a tiny black bag that held something clicking and clanking as shook it.

"A bone?" Nick was puzzled.

"Yep," I smirked, pulling out a long thin one. "the bone of a black cat."

Nick's eyes widened as I placed the tiny black bag inside my bigger bag and watched as I returned to the center of the crossroads.

I buried the box and waited.

*

I slammed the car door, waking Nick up from a dead sleep.

"What happened?" He yawned, straightening up from his slumber.

"I know Sierra is alive, and we need to go see Bobby," I stated, shifting the car in gear and shifting through my jacket for the address Mom gave me. "Can you look this up?" I asked, passing him the address, opening the glove compartment trading my Glock for a road map, and passing that to him as well.

"What happened out there?" He asked, pointing at the center of the crossroads, where it looked as if nothing happened. "What did you do?"

"I made a deal,"  I smirked, looking over, and started to pull away.

Nick managed to find, at the very least, the county Bobby lived in and from there we asked around to find his place.

"Singer Salvage Yard?" Nick repeated for the fourth time as I pulled down a dirt road.

"Yes," I rolled my eyes looking over at him. "Singer is his last name."

"How do you know this guy?" asked Nick as I began to pull into the jungle of salvage, junk, and broken-down cars.

"He was a family friend," I stated, looking around as Nick was doing the same. "He knows more about this Hunting stuff."

"Oh, great - more insanity." He smirked, and as I pulled up in front of Bobby's house and shut off the car, I turned to him.

"You know, the judgment doesn't look good on you." I snapped, grabbing my Glock again and then pausing. "If you're sticking around with me, you'll need one of these..." I gestured to my Glock and motioned for him to follow me.

He did just that.

I opened my trunk and I thought he was going to faint.

His eyes traced everything in the trunk; guns, knives, bottles of holy water, crucifixes, silver, golden, and regular bullets.

I grinned over at him as his jaw dropped.

"What?" I asked, digging through some of the things and pulling out a few choices, decided and passed him one of the glocks.

"I didn't think my girl was this cool." He was in awe as He took the Glock and examined it. "I still don't know what I think about all this..." He stated, following me to the front of the car after shutting the trunk. "...but I'll try to refrain or keep my comments to myself."

"Thanks." I snarled, leading the way up to the front door of the house that sat in the middle of the salvage yard. It was a little run-down - but strong.

I stepped on the front porch and took in the rocking chairs lined up on either side of the porch before pulling open the screendoor and knocking.

I glanced over at Nick, who was taking in the yard and our surroundings. I pulled my focus back to the front door and knocked again, only to jump at the sudden opening of the door and a double barrel shotgun was pointed at my nose, causing me to draw my Glock and point it directly back at him.

Bobby.

"Who the hell are you?" He growled, glancing at Nick and then back at me. "Ma'am."

"Dani..." I stated, firmly and watched his gaze flicker at Nick again.  "...this is Nick."

"Dani,  Nick...why are you here?" He asked, not lowering his gun, therefore I didn't lower mine.

"Dani as in Rhett," I stated and watched as a flash of familiarity came over him. "As in Glinda Rhett, Sierra Rhett, D-"

"- Danielle Rhett." smiled Bobby, finally lowering his shotgun, and earning an even more confused face from Nick. "Oh my god - you've grown!" He giggled, pulling me in like an old friend. "Come in!"

I led the way and gestured for Nick to put up his Glock before entering the house. As we walked we took in the scenery that seemed to mirror the outside, instead of stacks of cars there were books, guns, symbols, more books, knives, more symbols, and more books.

"Who is this again?" asked Bobby, pointing to Nick as we entered the kitchen.

"This is Nick, my boyfriend,"  I stated, as Bobby eyed him up and down and grinned a little.

"If you say say so." He muttered, earning a tense look from Nick.

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Nick, as I patted his knee.

"It means you're not a Hunter, are you?" Bobby asked, tossing him a can of beer as well as myself before opening one for himself.

"I'm not," Nick stated, almost disappointed.

"Then there you go," Bobby snarled turning to me, "How's Glinda?"

"She's doing well, still keeping this all a secret from Dad," I explained, opening the beer now and taking a long swig.

"Bill still has no clue." Bobby giggled as he downed the rest of his beer and tossed it. "What about Miss Sierra?"

I frowned at the mention of her name, and Bobby caught on fast.

"What's wrong? What happened?" He asked, moving across the Kitchen and taking the seat across from Nick and me.

"It's Sierra, she's missing."