Stranger

Chapter 25

"Let me guess, you're lurking outside that poor girl's apartment, aren't you?" Dean says when Sam answers the phone.

She hears Sam's muffled "no... yes" on the other side of the phone.

"You got a funny way of showing your affection," Dean chuckles, and puts the phone on speaker, sitting it on the table.

Nevaeh could practically hear his eye roll. "You find anything on her or what?" Sam asks.

"Sorry man. She checks out. There's a Meg Masters in the Hanover phone book. I even pulled up her high school photo. Now why don't you go knock on her door, and invite her to... a poetry reading, or whatever it is you do," Dean suggests, and Nevaeh snorts.

Sam sighs. "What about the symbol, any luck?"

"Yep," Nevaeh pipes up. "It's actually Zoroastrian. Super old school, like 2,000 years before Christ. It's a sigil for a Daeva."

"What's a Daeva?" Sam asks.

"Uh," Nevaeh flips through her notes, "it translates to 'demon of darkness.' They're Zoroastrian demons, so they're savage and animalistic. With nasty attitudes. Kind of like demonic pit bulls."

Sam hums. "That's why I trusted you with the hard work."

Dean frowns, and Nevaeh flashes a cheeky smile his way.

"I did something," he says. "Give me some credit, man. You two don't have a corner on paper chasing around here."

"Name the last book you read."

Dean glares at Nevaeh. "Alright," he gives in, "I called dad's friend, Caleb. He told me, alright. But here's the thing. These Daevas, they have to be summoned. Conjured."

"So someone's controlling it?" Sam asks.

"Yeah, that's what I'm saying. And from what I gather, it's pretty risky business, too. These suckers tend to bite at the hand that feeds them... and the arm. And the torso."

"So what do they look like?"

"Nobody knows. Nobody's seen them for a couple of millennia. Summoning a demon that ancient, someone really knows their stuff. I think we've got a major player in town."

Nevaeh raises an eyebrow. "Yeah, and I'm betting it's Sam's little girlfriend."

Dean waves a dismissive hand. "Hey, speaking of which, why don't you go give that girl a private strip-o-gram?"

"Bite me," Sam says.

"Bite her," Dean replies.

Nevaeh scrunches up her face. "Don't leave teeth marks though. That's not— Sam?" She laughs when Sam hangs up.

Dean sits the phone down and leans back in his chair. "Hey, we probably got a good hour or two before Sam gets back if you wanna, you know, shower..." he says with a suggestive head nod towards the bathroom.

"Keep dreaming, you man-whore," she says, flipping through the pages of their research. A few moments later, she lifts her eyes to Dean's. "Dude, we literally missed a connection between the victims."

"We need to talk," the three say in unison the moment Sam steps through the door. Sam goes first, explaining everything he'd found out from following Meg.

"So I was right," Nevaeh gapes.

Sam nods. "Looks like she was using that black alter to control the thing."

"So Sammy's got a thing for the bad girl," Dean chuckles. "Now what's the deal with that bowl again?"

"She was talking into it. The way witches scry into witch's crystal balls or animal entrails. She was communicating with someone."