When she finds herself back in Sioux Falls on a job, a twist of fate puts Evelyn Marshall in the path of the Winchesters and Bobby Singer. With nowhere left to run, the dark secrets in her past and the creatures who've hunted her are about to catch...
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I couldn't be sure when I'd fallen asleep, but I knew when I woke up.
The icy water struck my face like a slap, and I jerked upright in my chair. The wooden legs scratched atop the kitchen floor as I jumped to my feet, hands balled into fists and ready for a fight. I breathed heavily and surveyed my surroundings. Open books littered the table. The one I'd used as a pillow had a distinct pool of drool on it and I was relieved that it was a modern reprint and not some priceless, hand-inked original tome.
There was no sign of the Winchesters. Bobby stood before me, empty glass in hand, staring at me like I was an idiot of the highest order.
"You were having a nightmare."
I wiped my hand over my face. If I'd known that I was going to be drenched twice in under twenty-four hours, I'd have worn an anorak. "Yeah, I dreamt someone was waterboarding me," I lied. "Wonder what caused that."
"Fastest way to get you on your feet."
I mimicked Bobby's voice childishly as I shook the water from my fingers. As I walked past him, he slapped me around the back of the head again for the insult. I didn't do him the courtesy of wincing or slowing down. I still felt disgusting after my ride in the Impala. A ride that was hardly comfortable or hygienic. My clothes were wrinkled, my hair was a mess, and I dreaded to think just how putrid my morning breath was. Cleaning up until I resembled something faintly human seemed like the best start to whatever the day had in store.
I suspected that it wouldn't be anything good.
"Where you going?" he asked as I stalked away.
"To the little hunter's room," I shot back over my shoulder.
There was no point asking Bobby if he had any clothes that'd fit me. He might have kept his late wife's things but I wasn't about to drag up bad memories for him by asking to borrow some. Besides, they probably wouldn't be any good for the task at hand. I couldn't take down a poltergeist in a summer dress and sandals. If that was what the creature was. We kept circling back around to the same thing and it was maddening. No matter how much I told them that it didn't feel right, the Winchesters were determined that it was a spirit. I was fully prepared to spend a few more hours arguing the point but, first, a shower.
I hit the upstairs landing and didn't need to ask which door was the bathroom. It opened ahead and steam billowed out behind Sam Winchester, who emerged in nothing but a towel and trails of water which ran deliciously over his obscenely toned chest. I tripped over my own feet. It was a shock more than anything else. Damn. And I'd thought the water had been a startling way to begin a morning. It was nothing to the sight of a half-naked Winchester brother.
Sam froze in place for a moment before he uttered an awkward, "Sorry," and ducked into a nearby bedroom.
I cleared my throat and hurried into the vacant bathroom, relieved that there wasn't a queue. I heard Dean talking to Bobby downstairs. He must've been in the basement when I'd woken up or lurking somewhere out in the yard. I didn't have any idea of the man coming to like me even if we were in the same house for a day or so. That suited me just fine. Once we parted ways, I had no intention of crossing paths with them ever again. In fact, I would probably run back to England and put my skills to use in the underground vampire nests of London or in taking out the wandering werewolf packs of Scotland. There were plenty of monsters on my side of the pond. It'd been stupid to visit America. I couldn't believe I'd succumbed to the urge. It wasn't like me.
