An Inconvenient Flame

Part 7

     "Demons," Erin whispered tensely, and she could feel Dean's hand move away from her waist as he stood at attention. No one said anything. Erin looked to Dean, searching for some kind of direction, when they saw the throng of meat suits begin to part. Light footsteps grew closer, and they saw a tall man make his way to the front of the crowd. He was dressed in a tuxedo and oxfords. His hair was fashioned into a pompadour and his face was clean-shaven, revealing the pronounced dimple in his chin. He was handsome, Erin thought. But her admiration soon turned to disgust as his charming brown eyes flashed black. 

     "Winchester," the demon said, his voice smooth.

     "Lowell, I'm guessing?" Dean asked, his voice clipped, his eyes hard.

     Lowell clapped his hands unceremoniously. "Very good," he replied, dragging out the words as if addressing a child. "A little birdie told me you'd be here tonight, and I just had to come see the legend myself. Although, no one told me Dean Winchester would be bringing along...eye candy," Lowell finished, raking his eyes over Erin, sending a shiver of revulsion down her spine.

     "Let's cut the bullshit," Dean said. "I want information about some demons, and...."

     "No, Dean, allow me to cut the bullshit," Lowell interrupted, his eyes unfeeling. "I'm not Crowley. I don't believe in all this...how should I put it? 'You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours' mumbo jumbo bullshit.

     Let me make this very clear...very simple. You continue looking for me or any other demons, and I will personally kill each and every human being you have ever cared for," Lowell finished, his voice brusque and cruel. "Starting with this one," Lowell added, jerking his head in Erin's direction. Uneasiness settled in the pit of Erin's stomach at his threats. Dean's eyes darkened at Lowell's words, but he remained silent.

     "Well, then!" Lowell exclaimed. "It was a treat finally getting to meet Dean fucking Winchester." Lowell abruptly turned on his heel and started to make his way back through the crowd when he suddenly stopped and turned towards Dean and Erin once more. "Oh, and by the way, Amanda sends her love," he said, sending Dean a cocky smirk.

     Dean's jaw clinched and rage filled his eyes, turning them dark. "You son of a bitch!" Dean yelled as he started stalking towards the demon.

     "Dean!" Erin cautioned, grabbing at his arm. Dean stopped short, but his eyes never left the frame of the taller man. Lowell turned and nodded once to the demons around him, silently signaling to attack, before he weaved his way back through the crowd. The demons stood at attention, their eyes flashing black once more.

     Erin pulled her hand away from Dean's arm and slowly slid out of her heels, tossing them off her feet behind her. Her eyes scanned the crowd before landing on Windsor Drakefield. He stood in the far right corner silently, an angel blade gripped in each hand. 

     Erin glanced to Dean who stood rigidly surveying the group. Dean leaned down gingerly and raised his pant leg before pulling out a demon blade. He shot her a quick glance. "Left pocket," he said gruffly, motioning to his jacket still around her shoulders. Erin slowly slid her hand into the side and felt something hard and cold against her fingertips. She barely had time to pull out the other blade before the demons charged. Dean took the first wave, taking down three demons in a matter of seconds. Erin ran toward one, jumping up slightly as their bodies crashed into one another. She drove the blade through the demon's chest, his face and eyes lighting up in amber electricity. His body was heavier than hers, and his dead weight brought her down to the marble floor hard, knocking the breath from her lungs. Dean shot her a concerned expression as Erin gasped for air. Finally, she regained her composure, heaving the large body away from her own and jumping up deftly. Dean's face hardened again when he realized she was all right and continued his battle, threading his way through the sea of demons, a line of bodies falling behind him.