Meanwhile, Sam had a completely different problem at home. A slayer intercepted him near the bunker and wrestled him to the ground.
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"Where is that son of a bitch named Dean Winchester?" she hissed at him, pressing the blade of her knife against Sam's neck.
"On a hunt," Sam replied, caught off guard.
"A demon who hunts for himself? I know you're his brother. People know you Winchesters, so don't screw with me, where's that bastard hiding?"
"Dean's not a demon!", Sam defended him.
"Oh yeah, of course and the black eyes were just imagination. He was a damn demon and for what he did to me, he's going to die now!"
"He was a demon, but not anymore!", Sam clarified to the woman.
"Then why isn't he dead?" she snorted, "Wait? Is he dead already and I hunted him for nothing?"
"No, we exorcised him, sort of," the Winchester revealed, he didn't know who she was so he wasn't about to spill any secrets.
"Yeah right, you guys got an exorcist".
Without understanding, the brunette frowned and looked at him.
"You can exorcise any demon and send them to hell, didn't you know that?"
Slightly puzzled she blinked at him, in fact she had thought that was just a misconception and preferred to kill any demon along with its vessel.
Hesitantly, she removed her blade and slid off Sam.
"If you'd been Dean you'd be dead now," she hissed, standing up gracefully.
"I thought so, respect, you're really nimble," Sam praised, picking himself up off the ground.
"Thank you," she replied confidently.
As a huntress, she had to make up for her lack of strength with speed. Most of the time she hunted like a cat of prey, stalking and striking before the monsters could even scent her.
"So where is your brother now? I want to see for myself that you're telling the truth, otherwise I'll kill that son of a bitch without hesitation," she threatened.
"So what happened between you and Dean?" inquired Sam skeptically.
"Well, you can ask your psychotic brother," she snapped angrily, "Actually, I doesn't give a crap if he's a demon, he's so and so a monster"
Gripped by curiosity, Sam now more than ever wanted to know what Dean had done to the woman.
"What's your name?" the hunter gently inquired.
"My real name or what your brother called me?" she countered gruffly and Sam frowned in confusion, "My name is Antoinette, but most people call me Tony, except your brother, to him I was 'Josephine'."
