When Dean Winchester finds himself at the mercy of Bella Talbot, desperate for information that might save his soul, he crosses paths with Nadia Turner-the strong-willed, fiercely independent daughter of hunter Rufus Turner. Though the connection be...
"No guns," Nadia said firmly, her gaze steady as she looked up at the towering church in front of them. The gothic spires seemed to scrape the sky, the stained glass windows glowing dimly in the moonlight.
Dean glanced down at his pistol, fingers still wrapped around the grip. "What? Why?" His voice was tinged with disbelief as he continued to check the magazine.
"There's no one here," Nadia said, her eyes scanning the surrounding area. "No demons, I mean."
Sam, who was still on the fence about the situation, frowned. "How do you know?"
Nadia sighed and turned to face them. "Hello?" she said, tapping her temple lightly. "Angel, here." She raised an eyebrow, letting the words sink in. "I don't want to scare her any more than she already is. Come on."
Dean shot a glance at Sam, who met his eyes with a shrug. Neither of them liked it, but they knew better than to argue with her. Slowly, Dean slid his gun into the waistband of his jeans, and Sam followed suit. They moved in silence, following Nadia as she led them up the narrow staircase to the church's attic.
The old wood creaked underfoot, and the air was thick with dust, but Nadia didn't seem to mind. She had been quiet ever since they arrived—focused, sensing the underlying unease that seemed to hum in the air. She could feel Anna's fractured state, her mind stretched thin and terrified. It was almost palpable, like an invisible thread tugging at her.
"Anna?" Nadia called out softly, her voice warm and calm as she looked around. "We're not gonna hurt you. We're here to help. My name is Nadia and—"
"Nadia?" The voice was soft, high-pitched, almost fragile, coming from behind a pillar. "Nadia Turner? The little girl I've been dreaming about?"
Nadia froze for a moment, her heart skipping a beat at the sound of her name. She looked toward the pillar where the voice had come from, her breath catching in her chest.
"Yeah," she said, stepping forward slightly, her voice steady but with a hint of disbelief. "Though... I'm not so little anymore."
A figure slowly emerged from behind the pillar, a girl no older than twenty, with wild, untamed red hair that cascaded over her shoulders. Her green eyes were wide and bright, though there was an undeniable sadness in them, as if the weight of her own thoughts were too much to bear. She was thin, pale, but striking, with an almost otherworldly air about her. She took a hesitant step forward, as if unsure whether to trust Nadia, but the recognition in her eyes was unmistakable.
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