Lies We Tell ~ Dean Winchester

VIII.

Here's another update! Hope you all enjoy it!

><><

Erin

Dean and I were up shortly after dawn. The witches house seemed more ordinary in the morning, but Dean was still tense as she welcomed us into her living room. She looked each of us over slowly.

"Well?" Dean prompted uncomfortably. He seemed eager to get back on the road and I didn't blame him. There was something about the woman that set my teeth on edge.

"Don't cop that attitude with me boy," she snapped. "I was up all night working on this, your brother can vouch for me," she added with a twinkle of mischief in her eye.

Sam froze and glanced guiltily at the witch.

"You got made?" Dean asked sharply.

Sam shrugged non-committally.

"Psh," the witch waved her hand at Dean dismissively. "A witch knows when she's being watched. I wouldn't be much good to you if I wasn't powerful enough to know that," she added and she tossed two small satchets on the coffee table in front of me.

When I didn't make a move to touch them a slow smile crept across her face like I had done something amusing. She cracked her neck and leaned forward towards me. "You keep those with you, understand?" She asked severely. "One in your pocket at all times. When you sleep, one under your pillow. Keep the other one in your purse or bag or wherever you are keeping your things. Then they can't find you that way either."

I frowned in confusion. I knew painfully little about demons or witches but if the boys thought this was the right way to go about this I was going to have to trust it. I reached for one of the bags. I hesitated for a moment, unsure what made me not want to touch it.

The witch was watching me with interest. I flexed my fingers and was about to force myself to grab it when warm fingers locked around my wrist. I flinched in surprise as a wave of suspicion and concern and wariness and focus washed over me. Dean immediately released me.

"Sorry," he muttered then he turned his eyes to the witch. "What in the hell is going on here? This some kind of test?"

The witch smirked and sat back in her chair, crossing her legs. In a way she seemed pleased with Dean's question, but I wasn't about to drop my walls and find out. "Her instincts are telling her not to touch it, she is sensing my magic. Nothing more."

"Nothing more? What's going to happen when she does?"

The witch shrugged. "I'm not sure, nothing bad. She's a psychic, and a powerful one at that. I would be surprised if she didn't feel it."

"She said she's a-" he hesitated for a moment and his eyes flickered to me like he was asking permission to talk more about it, like what I was was some secret we could keep.

"An empath," the witch filled in. "She feels everything. A receiver, she's a cup that can be filled..." the witches eyes turned serious. "It's why they want you child."

I frowned. "Why? I can't do anything."

The witch shrugged. "I'm not a psychic, just a witch. Perhaps if you found another psychic they could give you answers. All I know is that whatever they want you for it isn't good. You keep those charms with you."

I nodded and reached down, picking up the first bag. The fabric felt strangely cool to the touch. I frowned down at it but I was still shielding so hard nothing was getting through. I tucked the bag into my purse and reached for the other one.