Hollowing Souls

Caged Heat

October 29th, 2011

Sioux Falls, South Dakota

"I told you. I don't know anything about —" The girl cut off, grey eyes wide. Blood stained her blonde hair, slowly dripping down her face. Her wrists and ankles were tied to a rickety wooden chair. She looked like Alex in all respects. All except one.

Alex walked towards the shifter, black-and-gold wings flicking in anger and annoyance. She studied the silver knife in her hand, mindlessly running her finger down the blade. "Sorry. But your exceptional good looks aren't going to buy you any mercy." She circled around the shifter, rolling her head to crack her neck. She pushed her grace against the creature for a brief second, watching as it stiffened. "I suggest you talk," she continued, moving back towards the wooden table. It had been over a month since Indiana, and she had spent most of that time up at Bobby's after being shipped back up to heal. No news from the Winchesters. Not yet.

She felt the shifter's gaze on her, but it didn't say a word. Alex ran her hand over the variety of weapons, lips twitching into a deep frown the shifter couldn't see. This was by far her least favorite part of being a hunter. She could handle the blood, the killing, the long nights in the car. But torture? Her wings ruffled in annoyance as the shifter spat on the ground, and her fingers tightened on the silver knife. Part of her wanted to put the filthy creature out of it's miserable life — She flattened her feathers back down, regaining control. This was important. Bobby said so.

"Look," the shifter finally said. "It's the alpha. I've never seen him. It's not like I can just give him a call."

"I happen to know you can." Alex leaned against the table, studying the shifter, blue-grey eyes narrowed. Did she really look like that? Ugh.

"You're wrong."

"My sources are impeccable. You're old; one of the firstborns. You're not really pulling off this dumb blonde act." She looked down at the silver knife in her hands. "I don't think you appreciate how much time I've spent finding you —"

Footsteps on the stairs cut her off. Alex looked up to see Bobby approaching. "Did I miss much?" he asked gruffly.

"Still won't talk." Alex walked closer the old hunter, dropping her voice. "Why are we trying to find the alpha anyways? What's so important about him?"

"Nothing. But word's out that Crowley's got him. Find the alpha —"

"Find Crowley."

"And get Sam's soul back." Bobby moved towards the table. "The Winchesters are upstairs. They're asking about you."

"Really?" Alex pushed her grace out, purposefully avoiding the taint of the shifter in the room. She felt Dean — his soul, maybe. She wasn't sure how it all worked — and smiled. "Do they need me?"

"Dunno. They got a rougarou out back. Another one for the King of Hell, I guess."

"Huh." Alex glanced over at the shifter, who was watching her defiantly. She let her angel blade slip into her hands, and held it out. "Here." She stared at the shifter with narrowed eyes. "Stings like a bitch for 'em." Then she slowly started walking up the stairs. A loud scream had her jumping up the rest. "Dean?"

"Hey, Pip." Dean was standing in the kitchen, beer in hand. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine." The young angel shrugged. "How about you?" She looked around. "Where's Sam —" Another scream cut her off.

Dean tipped his head. "Whatcha got down there?"

"Shifter." Alex ran a hand through her hair. "We're trying to get the location of the alpha. Word's got it that Crowley has him, so, find the alpha, find the demon. Then get that soulless son of a bitch to put Sam back together again."