Demon Blood: A Supernatural Fanfiction

Chapter 16: These Scars Never Really Heal

"Sho why 're we sho sure Onith's ditche'd towm?" Dean's mouth was almost overflowing with scrambled eggs. "I'mean, it'shtill raining out. He could be shtaying low."

Mallory shook her head, kicking his shin under the table. "I don't think a demon of his power could not make anything less than a thunderstorm. And don't talk with your mouth so full."

"Yesh, mom." Dean muttered, kicking her back. He swallowed his gigantic mouthful of eggs and continued. "Great. It's like a friggin' game of Cat and Mouse: Apocalypse Edition. He could be anywhere in the world by now."

His realization was met with silence. Mallory slowly cut into her waffle and chewed it thoughtfully. She turned to Sam, who was scanning his laptop. "Anything? At all?"

"Not... as far as I can tell..." Sam dragged, staring determinedly at the screen. His omlette lay untouched beside his laptop.

Mallory groaned and stuffed a giant piece of waffle in her mouth.

"Well, I guessh we gotta keep lookin'." Dean muttered, earning another kick from Mallory. "Shorry. Dis' just really good."

"Urgh. Whatever floats your friggin' cruise liner."

Sam perked up and examined the article he was reading. "Aha! Got someting! There's been a giant mass of cattle deaths and people disappearances over by Idaho- a place called Boise. Scientists are saying that it's a new influenza outbreak, but there's no way an influenza can bleed a cow dry. I think that's where we should head next. And get this- the body of supposedly dead Corbis Bletchely has shown up just beside Boise, in a small town called Caldwell. Wasn't he the guy whose house burned down in Ohio?"

"Dammit." Mallory put her utensils down and licked the extra syrup off her fingers. "Now he could be in anyone. How're we supposed to know who to look for?"

A pretty waitress with wavy blonde hair and a borderline inappropriate top gathered Mallory's plate and glass from the table. Mallory shooed her away and leaned over, smacking Dean's ear while he mentally undressed the waitress. "Of all the times to do it, this has got to be the worst. Save it for after we stop the goddamn apocalypse."

"Come on, can't a guy have a little fun?" Dean protested.

"Keep it on the road." muttered Mallory, gathering her newspapers and stuffing them into her bag. The tension was suffocating, Sam had concluded, but if Mallory wanted to keep secrets it wasn't his job to push for them. Events could unfold in any way from now on.

The Impala and the Mustang roared to life simultaneously and screeched out of the motel's lot with the intention of leaving San Antonio in the dust. It was like the end of any other case, except this time music only came out of one stereo. Mallory sat brooding in silence, mulling over the previous day.

How could Reyna just disappear on us? They both seem very keen to just get her out of the equation. But they should know by now how worried I'll end up being because they both freaking saw that nightmare. Onith is trying to end the world, right? Why is it our job to stop him?

Sometimes I feel so freaking useless.

When Mallory got like this, usually it would take her a very long time to snap out of it. They had just passed mile marker 87 after two and a half hours and she was still in her mind palace.

Suddenly she sat bolt upright in her seat, breathing heavy. There was one thought, and one thought only, circling her mind.

How are we gonna stop him?

The edgy guitar tone of Dean's cell phone was almost lost in the grind of his music, but it was pretty hard to miss the vibrations in his faded leather jacket. "What?"