Andrea Sanders, legendary hunter, is the kind of legend that only the brave and stupid dare to whisper about at night. After ditching the foster system at sixteen, she follows her father's footsteps into the only life she's ever known: hunting down...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
~*~*~*~
"We'll be back in a few hours, okay?" Sam promised through the phone.
Pushing away the excited feeling bubbling up in my stomach at the thought of seeing them again, I pressed my phone to my ear. "Alright, Jolly. Tell Sparks dinner will be ready when you get here."
"Burgers?" I could hear Dean from beside my favorite gentle giant, no doubt stomach rumbling.
I chuckled. "Yeah, you're just lucky Bobby taught me how to grill." Limping through the kitchen, I pulled the beef from where it had been thawing in the fridge. With the cast off and the boot on, it was much easier to get around. I still had trouble with stairs, but things were improving. "Well, you boys get here safe, alright? I don't feel like coming to save your asses again."
"Fine," Sam relented, "but only if you put a chair by the grill. You shouldn't be standing that long."
I rolled my eyes with a smile. "You sure you were going to law school and not med school?"
He laughed dryly. "Ha ha. Very funny. Aim straight, Short Stack."
"Happy hunting, Jolly." The line went dead, making me drop the phone onto the counter and continue my task. I wasn't actually too bad of a cook. From the moment I could walk, I was helping mom in the kitchen. After she passed, I tended to cook for the foster families I was placed in, and Bobby taught me anything and everything I wanted to know when he would spring me from them.
Grabbing my coat from the hook by the back door, I took the meat out to the enclosed porch where the grill sat. Considering it was only a screened in back deck, there was still a bitingly cold temperature even if the snow hadn't made its way in. Only a week out from Christmas and the dazzling white powder was everywhere, dusting tree tops and covering the yard. For the first time in years, I felt genuinely excited for the holiday, hoping that even during the apocalypse, we might be able to celebrate.
Decorating was only one of the two very important questions I had for them. They had been staying with me for two months, occasionally leaving for day hunts or calling me on the longer ones to check up and get advice. This hunt had been the longest at a week and a half. To be honest, I really was missing them.
Not that they needed to know that.
A few hours later, burgers and sides made, the back door creaked open. "Sam?" I called, a smile creeping onto my face. I got up from the bar stool I was sitting on at the marble island in the kitchen, peering down the hall.
"Not quite." A large burly man walked in, leather clad arms supporting the weight of a cross bow as his black eyes flashed at me.
With my eyes trained on him, I slowly eased my hand under the breakfast bar, searching for my holy water. "Well, what can I do for you, Mr. Demon Pants?"
