Days turned into weeks and soon an entire month had gone by. Samandriel was back to full power, Grant had left, and many other hunters stayed and went as well. It was through them she heard a rumor about how heaven was on the hunt for a rogue angel. The hunters told Madisen to be careful and to watch out for herself.

Hunters visiting had increased and the safehouse became a hot spot for them. Someone had once compared it to the bar Ellen, Jo, and Ash had owned years ago. Madisen snorted at the compliment but accepted it anyway. This place had become a place for hunters to hang around and pass stories.

The only rules here were, don't start fights, leave grudges at the door, do not steal from the bar, and pick up after yourself. It was simple, and she had it nailed to the front door so no one could complain that they didn't know. If anyone was in violation of this, they were given a single warning. After that they were thrown out at gunpoint. The hunters who came around knew she wasn't one to be trifled with when they witnessed her strangle and beat a man twice her size out the door with no help and no problem doing so.

Madisen herself didn't just wait around until Samandriel was in better health. She spent her time gathering information for Garth who would then pass it on to hunters. Some hunters went straight to her if it was an emergency. By then, she'd earned the nickname 'Code X', which she thought was rather cool.

"Sorry, Garth," Madisen said. "I have nothing on a Thule Society. Try calling James, he may know."

Madisen hung up and sighed, focusing on the computer in front of her. She never did appreciate Bobby for what he did for all the hunters. Now she did.

"What is it this time?"

It was Natalie, one of the few female hunters that passed through on occasion. She was about Madisen's height, short red hair, and green eyes. She tended to wear black a lot.

"The Winchesters ran into, apparently, a society of Nazi zombie necromancers that don't die unless you shoot them in the head, and burn their bodies within twelve hours."

Natalie stared, "What?"

"I don't know." A notification popped up on her computer. "I got something hold on."

Madisen scanned through the article and another one popped up, she read that one too. Huh, both were possible cases. Madisen reached behind her and turned the music down, put two fingers to her lips, and whistled loudly. All hunters turned to her.

"Alright boys, two possible cases! Signs of a vampire nest in Nashville, Tennessee where three people have been found with their throats ripped out. And a wendigo in Salem, Oregon where four campers has gone missing. Any takers?"

There was a small murmuring among the hunters. Then a man and a woman stood up.

"We'll take the vampires," he said.

"Okay, any takers for the wendigo? Anyone?" No one said anything. "Alright this is going to Garth for him to hand out."

Madisen turned the music back up and sent a text to Garth. He sent back a smiley face and Madisen rolled her eyes. No one in the hunting business knew how this man was still alive. They just chalked it up to one of life's greatest mysteries.

"So this is what you do all day?" Natalie asked. "You take calls, hand out jobs, and house hunters when they need to rest? Doesn't it get boring?"

"Sometimes. But it's also fun to be doing this. You know this place has become a check-in point for hunters?"

"Yes, it's also why you're getting so much business."

Madisen shrugged, she didn't care. It helped pay the bills for this place. Maybe she had missed her true calling in business. The hunters from earlier approached the bar, paid for their time and food, and left. Yeah, maybe she really did miss her calling. People loved it here.

"Well," Natalie said, "I'm turning in for the night. I'll be headed out tomorrow."

Madisen waved and turned her attention to the living room. Only four people were left, including herself. She sighed and turned in for the night, waving at the hunters still up. She paused at Samandriel's room and went inside. The angel was sitting on his bed reading a book, which he'd done much of lately. Madisen had a lot of those around. She closed the door.

"Hey," she said, he didn't answer. He did a lot of that too. "How are you holding up?"

"Well," Samandriel said, "all of my brothers and sisters want me dead, demons are probably looking for me, and I can't leave this house in case either of them finds me. Other than that I'm doing great."

"I think you spend too much time around me, you're becoming sarcastic."

Samandriel shrugged and Madisen sighed yet again. That was true, he hadn't been allowed to go past the warding on the property. And while it did reach far, it didn't reach any part of civilization, and the only people he had been able to talk to were hunters. Even she would feel annoyed at this. An idea struck her. She sent another text to Garth.

"How much do you know about wendigos?"

The two days it took to get to Salem from Fort Collins were boring. That's what you get when you can't buy airplane tickets. Samandriel wanted to fly them there, but Madisen wasn't too keen on angel flight after her time with Castiel and that field. That and neither of them were sure if angels could follow flight movements.

They spent a day talking to the missing person's families and gathering up what they could about the woods surrounding them. Samandriel was introduced as Madisen's, or rather Agent Hammond's, understudy who was new to the job. He was interested with how Madisen handled people. She showed sympathy where it was needed, converted certain questions into something else so they didn't sound weird, and was firm when she wanted answers from the local police.

When they were ready, it took four hours of tracking to find the bloodied and abandoned campsite. Samandriel had followed Madisen's lead and changed into something hike worthy. Which in this case consisted of pants instead of jeans, a t-shirt, and a very light jacket.

Madisen had carried a small duffle bag with a molotov, a mini flamethrower - which had great range -, a flare gun, water, and food. The minute they made it to the campsite all sounds had disappeared from the forest. She immediately began working on the anasazi symbols and finished when the sun had gone down. There was still no sound, but Samandriel had started a small fire.

"Well this is creepy," she said.

Samandriel nodded in agreement. A sense of foreboding washed over the pair and Madisen shivered. She pulled out her water bottle and took a quick swig.

"You feel that right?" she asked.

"Yes, it's here. But why isn't it trying to draw us out?"

"Maybe it wants to know why a skinwalker and an angel are sitting in a clearing together." Madisen laughed, "Sounds like the beginning of a bad joke."

A clicking sound filled her ears. The hell? Wendigos don't click! Do they? No, they mimic voices.

"That isn't a wendigo, is it." Madisen wasn't asking.

"No."

The clicking stopped and a large drop of liquid shot out from the woods and landed on Madisen's water bottle. She watched in mild fascination as the water bottle began to melt. Another drop shot out and landed at Madisen's feet. She jumped back in alarm.

"Don't!" Samandriel called. "He's trying to force us from the anasazi circle."

"So whatever this thing is, it has the same weakness as a wendigo. Think fire will kill it too?"

"Yes."

Madisen dropped her bag on the ground. A glob of acid hit her bag and burned through, destroying whatever had been in it. She cursed loudly.

"Don't worry," Samandriel said. "It only has three shots."

"Well what the hell is this thing?"

"It's called an Aslaeva, they're supposed to have gone extinct 500 years ago."

"Oz... what? Never mind. Any other ideas?" Madisen asked. Samandriel handed her an angel blade. "Where'd that come from?"

"They're made from an angel's grace."

"And they won't find you after making one of these?"

"No, it's an automatic thing when we have vessels."

The clicking had begun again, louder, and it was coming from every direction. Madisen shivered again, god this thing was creepy.

"Well here goes nothing," Madisen said as she stepped out of the circle.

The clicking stopped and then started up again across the clearing, low, and slowly getting closer. An animalistic laugh accompanied the clicking. It was like a hyena, except it sounding guttural. Madisen felt a shiver of fear slip down her spine and she took a defensive stance, blade held close and aimed to slice. The clicking and laughing edged closer and then it stopped. Madisen tensed.

Madisen screamed as something hit her from behind, throwing her across the campsite. The clicking and laughing started up again. It sounded like people laughing at her, screaming at her, asking for help.

"Stop it!" Madisen screamed in frustration.

Madisen turned but stopped short. The creature had a pale body, long catlike claws, and purple slitted eyes. A wide toothy grin spread across its face. Suddenly a face flashed in her mind. A little girl.

"Alice?" Madisen breathed, falling to her knees.

"Ignore it!" Samandriel shouted. "It's not her! Ignore it! Get up, Madisen!"

She was thrown back into a tree. Madisen coughed up a small spit of blood. She growled.

"That's it," Madisen snarled. "Time to die."

She swung but a voice stopped her. It was young, a little girl's voice. A familiar one. Madisen choked.

"Big sister?" she asked. The image of a little girl with long brown braids entered her mind. "Wanna play?" The words, they echoed in her mind. Wanna play? Wanna play? "Let's play."

Madisen stared ahead, lost in a trance. A deep echoing voice pulled her from it.

"I'm done playing with you."

Madisen was thrown across the clearing again, but this time into a small boulder. She was out cold, a nasty gash running along her forehead. The clicking and laughing got even louder.

Before the creature could take a step towards Madisen a blade was shoved through its back. It screamed and thrashed but Samandriel held on tight and the thing disintegrated into ash. He sighed and rushed towards Madisen, gently shaking her. She groaned.

"Ow."

Samandriel felt relieved his friend didn't die. They waited at the campsite until morning came around, then they hiked back to Madisen's truck. Besides her head injury, she accumulated a large number of bruises and a sprained ankle. She'd be off of that for a week at least, but it wasn't too bad.

They spent two more days heading back to the safehouse, meaning they'd only been gone a week. Madisen gained a few curious looks from the hunters when they saw her limping in. What in the world could make the fearsome Code X limp and give such bruises? Even some of the most experienced hunters winced at the ones she had.

Madisen informed them of the new creature and told them to pass it on. For now it would be classified as a cousin of the wendigo, as it had the same weaknesses, but it was set apart for obvious reasons. That night, Madisen was sitting at the bar drinking a beer, two empty bottles sitting beside her. She hadn't slept the past two days. Samandriel was worried about her.

"Who was she?" he asked, sitting beside her.

"She was the child of a man I once knew. I stayed with him for a while, and the girl became my little sister. They were both killed."

Madisen didn't elaborate further. Instead she took a large swig of her beer and coughed. Samandriel gently took the beer from her hand and led Madisen to her room. They stopped at her door.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"For what?"

"Being there."

And then she entered her room. Samandriel sighed and shook his head, what was he going to do with her? Inside her bathroom, Madisen stripped and stepped into a hot shower. Tears mixed with the water and her pounding heart echoed in her ears. Eventually she pulled herself together, got out, changed into her pajamas, and went to bed. She still hadn't stopped crying.

**********

We're finding more out about Madisen's past! Don't worry, Sam and Dean will be back next chapter. I just needed this one to explore the type of relationship Madisen has with Samandriel.

She'd been slightly babying him the past few weeks. It was time for him to show what he was made of! Thoughts?

Oh! Aslaeva is pronounced (Oz-lay-vuh).