Among Us: A Supernatural Novel written by Carver Edlund

The Spy

A/N1: For this chapter, I need to add a TRIGGER WARNING: Paulie refers to himself as a faggot. 

..::~*~::..

Thank his dark father in the pit that he hadn't tried waiting for the girl in her apartment.

When Vahe heard the distinctive rumble of a classic muscle car, he darted into the shadowed hallway that cut the small apartment building in half. Disbelieving his rotten luck, he peered into the parking lot. A sleek black boat of a ride, coated in dust, purred into a parking place. Its Ohio plate read CNK 80Q3. The halogens shut off at the same time as the engine. The doors opened, and three figures emerged.

Damn it. Not only could that little slut see his real face, but she'd also brought the two worst possible men home with her.

He breathed a snarl that the human throat wasn't built for producing. It had been so long since he'd been sent topside on a mission. With great disappointment, he watched his hope of sneaking a taste of the girl before he delivered her going up like brimstone fumes. He was not about to get in line for a Winchester's sloppy seconds.

Hunters. The pair of them oozed arrogance. Unconcerned with what might be lurking in the dark, they ambled up the walk. Their layered clothing was loose enough to hide an arsenal apiece, but Vahe observed them with contempt. From here, they didn't look so tough.

Too bad he'd had to abandon the Luka meat suit, though. That one had been bigger.

The brothers and the girl turned into the ill-lit hallway. He put his back to the cone of yellowish light filtering through the open-faced, roughcast staircase. He pretended to unlock the door to the corner apartment as three sets of feet clad in biker boots, leather lace-ups, and lavender running shoes thudded up the steps to the third and top landing. Not one of the shoes' owners so much as looked his way.

"Does it always do that?"

"What?"

"The light."

The smallest shoes hesitated. "Yeah, um, lots of ghosts around here?"

A low-pitched chuckle.

In the unreliable cone of light, Vahe edged toward the stairs and then crouched under them, peering up. He couldn't see much up there, but he could hear just fine.

Tiny metallic scrapes floated downward. Then a hushed voice. "Are we really breaking into my apartment?"

A pssh sound. "Relax. The first time may seem a little questionable, but it gets more fun after that."

"Right, Dean. You treat all your dates to a standard B and E after dinner. Really ramps up the romance, doesn't it?"

"First of all, Sam, I wouldn't be caught dead letting my little brother tag along on a date. Second of all, how else are we going to get in? The demon stole her keys."

A click. A slight squeak as a door swung inward.

The girl made a whimpering noise. "Please don't tell me you've already broken in."

"No, of course not," said one brother, at the same time the other said, "Seriously, relax. We put everything back where we found it."

"Dude!"

"What?"

Vahe imagined the conversation switched to non-verbal at that point, for he heard nothing else as the three slowly passed across the threshold and the door clicked shut. The hunters weren't as stupid as they looked. He was sure they'd gone in with guns drawn, the traitor Ruby's Kurdish demon-killing knife at the ready.