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...
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The pancake flipped sloppily as I bounced to the music. "Whooooa, we're half way there! Whoooooa! Livin on a prayer!" With the boys out of the house, I was able to sing to my hearts content. Flour covered most of me from my overly excited search for breakfast food. However, my obnoxious singing nearly drowned out the ringing of my cell phone. "Oh!" I yelled, grabbing a piece of bacon to shove into my mouth as I ran to turn off the radio. With the house now silent in all ways except for my phone, I answered with a smile. "Hello?"
"Andy? Oh, thank God." The male voice cracked a little as though it hadn't quite finished puberty. I didn't know this person.
Furrowing my eyebrows, I sobered. "Who is this? How did you get this number?" I had cell phones for potential clients to get ahold of, but this was my private line.
"It's me! Sam!"
Shaking my head, I leaned against the counter with an arm crossed over my chest. "Yeah, and I'm Mel Gibson. Prove it, chess club."
A sigh fell from the young man on the line. "Uh, how about when you can't reach the top shelf in the kitchen you climb on my back! And, uh, you call me Jolly, and a week ago you and I went joy riding in the Impala, cracked the windshield and replaced it before Dean even noticed."
I blinked, surprise setting in. That was enough for me. "Alright, so you're Sam. Why the hell do you sound like you haven't hit your growth spurt?"
Sam groaned on the other end of the line. "Because I'm not me right now. I'm in some kid's body, stuck in his room while he's off pretending to be me, and Dean won't answer any of his phones!"
"Any of them? Not even-"
"Nope."
"Damn." Chewing on my lip and shaking my head, I tried to make some sense of this. I probably should have checked in with Dean last night to see if he'd found Sam, but I had assumed no news was good news. "So you're back in high school. Congrats."
"Andy! I'm serious! I need help." The whining sounded extra annoying in his new voice. "And I think I have asthma."
Laughing, I tried to calm him down. "I'm kidding! Chill! What do you know about the kid you seemed to have Freaky Friday-ed with? Look around the room while you're at it."
Rifling noises came through the ear piece as Sam explained the best he could. "Well his name is Gary Frankell. Ridiculously huge Star Wars fan, AP classes-"
"Probably a virgin."
Sam chuckled at the comment. More sounds clanked through. "And he likes magazines of busty Asian beauties."
"Okay, frustrated virgin. What else you got, Jolly?"
"Oh! Got something!" Finally. I coughed, wondering why things were getting so stuffy. "It's, well definitely witchy. Black cloth, pentagram and weird hoo-doo symbols." Was it hot in here?
