Two Worlds Combine

Chapter 23

DEANNA'S POV

I venture behind the bar to pour myself a drink. Crowley's words still ring in my ears as I think back to Samantha and I's past years. Me taking the Mark of Cain, Gadreel, the Leviathans; all of it happened because Samantha and I trusted the wrong person when we were desperate. The belief that we've held for so long that the ends justify the means has only gotten the people closest to us killed. Sammi and I are always the ones left standing. We get the job done, sure, but aren't we the ones who always get the ball rolling in the first place? It's one big circle jerk of desperation to save each other. I look up when I hear Samantha walk back into the bar.

"I think it worked. Not really practiced in prayer, but." She sits on the barstool opposite me on the other side of the bar. I pour her a glass of whiskey and push it towards her. She grabs the glass but just stares at it. The expression on her face is hard to read for once. That says something cause here I thought I was fluent in Sam's facial expressions. I can't quite make out what it is. It looks like a painful combination of worry, determination, and sadness. I wish I could read her mind right about now. She doesn't seem the least bit interested in her drink. Instead, it's more like she's looking into the dark liquid like it has all the answers. I grab my glass and kick it back in one go. Unlike her, I know nothing ever has the answers we need without drawing some blood first. 

Ten minutes pass by before I hear a flutter of wings and feel a slight breeze. I know the angels are here. I glance up to see four of them standing in the room. They're all wearing their usual crappy suits. The vessel of the one clearly in charge of them is a young man. He doesn't look over twenty-three years old with black hair cut into a crew cut. Whoever he was the vessel was clearly military. I don't recognize any of the vessels standing in front of me which means I don't know any of the angels either. 

I pour myself another drink. "Where's Hannah?"

Sam turns around in her seat to face the angels. Young Captain Miller steps towards evil me still cuffed to the chair. His eyes observe how well she's subdued. By his expression, he doesn't like our method of keeping her down. Probably thinks it's not good enough because it's true. "She sent us to make sure you made it to your meeting. She's currently busy." I purse my lips from feeling a little neglected. And here I thought I was the priority of her to-do list. I bring my glass up to my lips and take a long sip of my second drink. I look to Sam, "Okay, you head back to the bunker while this goes down. If it works you'll know as soon as I can give you a call. Got it?"

She makes a face, "And if it doesn't work? If they don't hold up their end of the deal?"

I shrug while looking to my other half, "Then you won't hear from me I guess."

Sam doesn't seem appeased by that answer from the look on her face. She huffs with discontent. The drink in front of her finally gets some attention at that. It's gone in one swig. I give her a look of my own telling her to not do anything stupid if this doesn't work. I walk over to the angels, standing next to my evil clone. "Let's get this over with." 

Mr. Crew Cut places a hand on my shoulder and then hers. I open my eyes and we're in Hannah's office from before. Heaven really needs a new interior decorator because the all-white decor makes me feel like I'm next to be lobotomized. Hannah's not sitting behind her desk this time though. My evil clone is still subdued with the demon cuffs sat beside me in the chair identical to mine. There is a piece of tape over her mouth, though, which wasn't there before. Can't say I'm disappointed at that. I turn my head enough to see what's behind me using my peripheral vision. I see two angels guarding the door with angel blades in hand. Guess they're not willing to take any risks. Smart.