The Monsters In Our Heads (Book 7 Arrow/SPN Crossovers)

Familiar Face, Wrong Place

We pulled up to the intersection, pulled off the street into a small part and settled in to wait. Sam got out, popped the trunk as I worked my way around to the back.

"Here," he said as he started pulling weapons out of the trunk, "The shotgun with dead man's blood darts will be too obvious so use the crossbows. Hope your aim is still good." He handed me a tiny ass crossbow that had the arms folded up against the stock.

"Oliver?"

"Yup." He added a brace of small arrows that had had tubes of blood worked into them, "As soon as the arrows hit they inject the blood into the skin."

"Sounds good, got bullets for my 1911?"

He frowned, "No, sorry, but I have a spare 9 mil with a silencer you can use that will hold the bullets I do have."

"We going all assassin on monsters now?"

"Less noise, less cops. It works."

I took the gun, shoved the machete into my jacket, and hooked the crossbow around my belt using the clip on the end of stock, it was small enough that my jacket would cover it, then I wrapped the brace of arrows around my wrist. It felt odd carrying all that again. We were there for maybe twenty minutes when Gerald's voice rang in our ears.

"Honda Accord, black, license plate EY1C25 headed your way. Three people in it, two girls and a guy. Once chick is dressed like an emo gypsy complete with black hair, the other has brown hair and is in jeans, knee high black combat boots and a white shirt. The guy is in a grey t-shirt and jeans. He's blonde with a ponytail and is a scrawny tall guy."

"On it." Sam said, we saw the car pass just as we got into our car. Sam gunned the engine and got behind them. I looked over my shoulder and saw Gerald's car swing in behind us.

"Gerald's on our tail."

"See him," Sam replied.

The Accord turned onto the freeway and headed west away from the town we were in. Sam and Gerald played tag with it to keep any suspicion of them being followed to a minimum. About thirty minutes later they pulled off and headed into downtown Broken Arrow. After a few minutes navigating through the more industrial part we ended up in a shadier dive bar district. That got all of our attention, "Hunting ground," I said.

"Definitely."

They pulled up in front of an alley, emo gypsy chick got out, "I'll grab her, you and Gerald follow them."

"Yell if you need help," he said as I got out.

"Sure thing." Emo gypsy chick had on one of those long, flowy, ruffled black skirts, sandals that laced up ankle, a sleeveless block top and a chunky silver belt. Her hair was long but the right half of her head was shaved making her look like a punk emo gypsy which was one genre too many in my opinion. She had a bunch of bracelets on her right arm, a few of them were those charm ones that seemed to have a bunch of things hanging off of them. I stayed behind her and a good distance away as she sidled up to a few guys and seemed to be asking for a smoke. They all turned her down and walked off. She wasn't really in the right neighborhood for what she was wearing. She would have done better wearing a tight skirt, heels and something flashy. She started walking east down the sidewalk and the crowds started to change. More emo, less dive bar. She must be homing in on her people.

As she got closer to what looked like a goth club she hunched her shoulders forward and started walking a bit differently. She was really getting into character for this. By the time she made it to the line to get in she seemed like this sad, hopeless, lost girl who probably spent her days watching Twilight and Vampire Diaries and writing about the darkness of her soul. She blended right in. I stepped into the shadow of an alley as I certainly didn't blend in with this crowd.