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Kieran stared at the phone, willing it to ring so she wouldn’t have to hit send. E-mailing Sam was one thing, but she hadn’t actually spoken to Dean since the morning he left her house, and her stomach was not entirely sure it wanted to stay put if she hit the pretty green button. ‘This is not about me, this is about a hunt, my nerves can just go take a hike.’ Sufficiently convinced, for the moment, she hit the button.
“Hello?”
“Sam. It’s Kieran, in Texas. Are you guys anywhere nearby?”
“We could be if you need us, is something wrong?”
Kieran heard Dean ask “Who is it?” and Sam’s muffled reply.
“I’ve run across something that I can’t handle with just one person, any chance you could swing by and help a girl out?”
“We’ll be there by tomorrow, late tonight at the earliest.”
“Great! I’ll have your room ready, and Sam?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks.”
Kieran snapped her cell phone shut and felt the tension release from her shoulders. It was amazing what a relief a little back up provided.
“Alright fuzzy kitty, we have visitors coming and less than a day to get ready. Where shall we start?”
Morwen yawned and stretched, then curled back up on the end of the bed.
“You’re lots of help.” Kieran smiled. “I guess I’d better get to work.”
Sam eyed the speedometer nervously and hoped all the cops were on break. He had his suspicions about his brother’s feelings toward Kieran, and the way Dean was flooring the gas pedal made him even more certain. Obviously they hadn’t discussed it, but the clues were there for someone who knew Dean as well as Sam did. For starters, Dean didn’t bring her up. No crude jokes, no passing mentions, nothing, but when Sam read her e-mails out loud he hung on every word. Then there was the rock in his pocket, the one that went under his pillow with the knife every night. Sam was pretty sure his big brother had not acquired a taste for bling, and he didn’t really seem too fond of purple, but there was no denying the presence of an amethyst in the front right pocket of Dean’s jeans. John Winchester didn’t raise fools. Sam had noticed the crystals scattered in odd places around the East Texas house they’d spent a weekend at, and he hadn’t missed the amethyst around their hostess’s neck either. She meant something to Dean, something that had him acting like speeding tickets were a myth and arriving at her front door many hours ahead of schedule.
Kieran had finished cleaning the house in record time, nerves and anticipation lending her a speed she hadn’t known she had. With lunch behind her and the boys’ arrival hours away, she turned her attention to the car. High winds and a brief rain had turned her little red car taupe. Picturing the shining black Impala parked side by side with her poor abused Focus was the deciding factor. She slipped on her swimsuit and old pair of jean shorts, grabbed a bucket, the soap, and a stack of old towels and headed out to the driveway. Her old boombox blasted out tapes from her high school days and she was thankful for the privacy ten acres provided. No neighbors to catch her singing in the driveway. Her mind wandered to the first time she’d met the Winchesters.
She’d been setting up bell, book, and candle in the middle of a quiet road. She wasn’t entirely sure this was going to work. Not being a bishop, and not having twelve priests to back her up might be a slight problem. There were some versions of the tale that said an excommunication would only be successful if done before the second transformation; if that were true she was already too late.
The trotting began shortly after dark, and as it came closer it was accompanied by a sound that was between a neigh and a moan. Kieran lit the candle and took a deep breath.
“I separate you, together with your accomplices and abettors, from the precious body and blood…”
The horrible sounds continued through her recitation and the creature itself appeared just as she rang the bell. She saw its iron- shod hooves out of the corner of her eye as she closed the book, snuffed the candle, and knocked it from the rock she’d used as an altar. Only then did she look up.
A large brown mule stood before her, flames rising from its neck, and a bridle where its head should be. Kieran wasn’t sure which unnerved her more- the flames or the fact that it was still there.
“Get down!” yelled a male voice.
Kieran dropped to the ground instinctively as a shot cracked through the night. Boots pounded in her direction as she cautiously regained her feet. The mule was gone, and a woman with a bloody wound lay in the road for a moment before vanishing entirely.
The footsteps came to a halt behind her and Kieran turned to see two men regarding her warily.
“You alright?” the shorter man queried.
“Fine.”
He seemed to lose interest as soon she answered, both men turning their attention to the place where the Mulo sin Cabeza had been. She quietly gathered her supplies and tucked them back in to her bag as the two strangers spoke. They turned at the sound of her zipping the bag shut.
She hesitated a moment, years of secrecy warring with the need to learn. Kieran gestured to the shotgun the shorter man held and asked.
“What’s it loaded with?”
She thought she saw something in his eyes, and she was almost certain the taller man was surprised at her question.
“Consecrated iron rounds.” He replied.
“Thanks, I’ll make a note of that for the future.“ Kieran was surprised her voice wasn’t shaking as badly as her insides. Part of her was screaming to stop now, before she said too much, revealed too much, but the chance at speaking to someone who understood might never come again, and she was determined not to waste it.
“Dean, if we’re gonna get a room tonight we’d better get moving,” the taller man said in a low voice.
“If you want, I have a spare room and a comfy couch too…” She trailed off, not sure she should’ve made the offer.
The smirk on Dean’s face made her even more uncertain, but she’d said it and she wasn’t going to back out now.
“Thanks for the offer, but I’m sure we’ll be fine.” The tall man replied.
Dean’s glare brought a smile to her face, but she quashed it quickly. Best not to offend the man with the shotgun, she decided.
“If you’re sure, then I guess I’d better get going.” Kieran paused, hoping and fearing that they would change their minds.
She wasn’t sure who’d been more surprised when they showed up at the bookshop the next morning. They were in town looking for her. Well, not her personally, the owner of the bookstore. They ended up spending a quiet weekend at her house, Sam devouring her collection of old and rare books as ravenously as Dean attacked the home cooked meals. When they left she got Sam’s e-mail address and both cell numbers.
Sam had drifted off somewhere near the state border, and Dean had taken advantage of the peace to really hit the gas. He didn’t want to admit it to Sam, had barely admitted it to himself, but he worried about Kieran. Especially after she’d revealed to him how she’d come to be involved in their world.
“I told you my dad was a geologist, right?” She’d continued after his nod. “He worked for an oil company, always traveling, mostly to South America. He was in Columbia when it happened. He got separated from his group and they found his body two days later. My mom flew down to identify him, sign papers, and have him cremated. She came home with Dad’s ashes and a haunted look in her eyes that stayed with her for the rest of her life.
“From what she finally told me, many years later, the interpreters knew what had happened. It wasn’t a wild animal attack like the official report said. It was a Patasola; monsters that appear to men they feel are harming the jungle, hunters, loggers, oil men. They lure them away by taking the form of a beautiful woman or a loved one. The interpreters were absolutely certain that the Patasola had killed my father; after all, they’d seen him wander off into the jungle with my mother when she was still thousands of miles away.
“After that, Mom started researching, and then hunting. Anything that came close enough to threaten what was left of her family. I was only eight, but I was all she had left, and she was the only person I could talk to about what was really out there. Secrecy was the first rule I learned about this life.”
“Your mom didn’t work with other hunters?” Dean inquired.
“We didn’t know for a fact that there were others. I assumed there were, it seemed logical, after all, the world hadn’t been taken over by zombies or vampires yet, but you and your brother are the first I’ve ever met.”
He knew Sam had always considered this a solitary life, but the fact was they had never been that isolated. They’d always had Bobby, or Caleb, or Ellen, someone to call if a hunt went south. It just wasn’t safe, her being alone like that, no matter how secure her house or how well she was doing in her handgun classes. It wasn’t living out in the country that was dangerous, it was not having backup. Her mom was gone, and from the e-mails she sent to Sam it sounded like she had plenty of acquaintances but no real friends. He coaxed a little more speed out of the Impala. She needed backup, and she‘d called him, and he was going to make sure she got it.
She was soaking wet and rinsing the last of the suds from the car when she heard the tell tale rumble headed her way. She glanced down at herself and sighed. Mud on her knees, black streaks on her arms, and she knew she was sweating. Not really the impression she had wanted to make, but it was too late to do anything about it now.
“Now that’s a sight for sore eyes!” Dean remarked appreciatively.
“Wha?” Sam asked blearily, just beginning to come awake.
“Close your eyes Sammy, you’re too young for this.” Dean teased.
“Too young for what?” Sam sat up, his eyes going wide. “Dean! I do not want to think about her like that.”
Dean just smirked. As far as he was concerned, this was the perfect reward for arriving early. He might have wished for a bikini, instead of the sensible one piece, but the body was all he could’ve hoped for. Her dark blond hair was tied back in a ponytail, wisps escaping all around her face. She grinned at Sam’s obvious discomfort, but when her green eyes met Dean’s they showed something else. Just the thought of her tackling his car next was making it difficult to sit comfortably, and the look in her eyes wasn’t helping.
Kieran was waiting beside his door when Dean parked, her face once again calm and amused.
“You’re early; I wasn’t expecting you ‘til this evening.”
“We made good time.”
“I can tell.” She replied with a knowing smile. “Come on in, I need to shower and change, then I’ll tell you why I called.”
“There’s been a sudden increase in drowning deaths in this creek lately.” Kieran said, pointing to a small blue line on the map. “I had trouble tracking down the cause at first; most of the witnesses have been highly intoxicated and not exactly forthcoming about why they were out there in the middle of the night.”
“Drunk guys drowning in a creek doesn’t exactly scream paranormal…” Dean began.
“I know, normally dead noodlers would be tragic, or maybe a really good example of Darwinism, but the survivors were all insistent that something had pulled their friends under.”
“Noodlers?” Sam inquired.
“Noodling is a way of fishing for catfish, and not one I’d recommend. I’m personally not comfortable with sticking my entire arm in a dark hole under the water where the best case scenario is that I end up wrestling with a catfish. Did I mention most of the people who do this are extremely drunk?”
“My kind of sport.” Dean quipped.
“Not if you like your fingers. Those holes are just as likely to contain a snapping turtle or a water moccasin.”
“So what’s dragging noodlers to the bottom of the creek, a giant turtle?”
“Not unless turtles now resemble some combination of a beaver and an alligator. It’s an afanc, a Welsh water monster.” Kieran passed Sam a stack of print outs and copies.
“All the stories I’ve found have it being lured out of the water by a maiden’s song, usually described as a lullaby or a sad song, and falling asleep in her lap. Once it’s napping then the knights, or the villagers, depending on the version, chain it up and kill or relocate it.”
“Hear that, Sammy? We get to be knights.”
“No Dean, I get to be a knight, you’re the village idiot.”
Kieran was suddenly grateful for the long dress as the afanc lumbered towards her. The more between her skin and that thing's head the better, and hopefully the skirt would soak up some of the water pouring off of it. Her mind kept flashing to the versions of the story where the maiden was crushed during the battle with the afanc and wondered if she’d done the right thing keeping those to herself. She forced her mind to stop racing in panicked circles and focus on the words she was singing. She wasn’t sure if it was the meaning of the words or the tone of voice that mattered, but it didn’t matter, the Coventry Carol could never be anything but heartrendingly sad.
Lully, lullay thou little tiny child
The creature stopped in front of her, its foul breath blowing her hair away from her face.
By, by, lully, lullay
It cocked its head, she closed her eyes.
Lully, lullay, thou little tiny child
By, by lully, lullay
She heard it shifting its weight.
O sisters too, how may we do
She braced herself.
For to preserve today
A great weight dropped into her lap.
This poor youngling for whom we sing
It was hot, burning her legs even through the skirt and jeans, and it smelled of the muck at the bottom of a lake.
By, by, lully, lullay
She opened her eyes.
Herod the king, in his raging
The monster’s eyes had stared up into hers from her lap.
Charged he hath this day
All she had to do now was keep singing…
His men of might, in his own sight
and keep calm, until..
All young children to slay
it fell asleep.
That woe is me
The moment its eyes closed she signaled Sam and Dean, not allowing herself to pause in her song.
Poor child for thee
She was certain if she stopped it would wake.
And ever mourn and say
They wrapped the chains tightly around its legs and neck, working quickly and quietly.
For thy parting
Dean started to drag it off her lap and she shook her head violently. They could not risk waking it.
Neither say nor sing
Sam held the chains taut as Dean raised the knife.
By, by, lully, lullay.
As the song ended the knife came down on the creature’s neck. It awoke with a roar, fighting the chains. Dean had cut it, but not seriously wounded it. The blood from the wound sprayed across Dean and Kieran as the monster thrashed. The muscles in Sam’s arms stood out clearly, his feet digging into the bank. The afanc’s head broke free of Sam’s control for a moment, just long enough to slam into Dean’s arm and knock the knife from his grip. Kieran snatched it from the ground and slammed it into the creature’s side, but the writhing monster jerked it out of her grip. Dean had produced a wickedly curved blade from somewhere and swung it down, severing the abomination’s neck. Blood poured from the stump, soaking Kieran’s lap and coating Dean’s hands.
Sam hauled the creature off of her and Dean pulled her to her feet. She shook slightly, trying to let the adrenaline fade back into her system. She looked from their joined hands, both slick and red now, to her ruined dress and sighed.
“I hope you brought towels, ‘cause I’d hate to get this on your seats.”
Dean and Kieran had claimed the first showers, so Sam had settled in to research a way to keep Dean out of Hell. Kieran’s book collection was massive; he’d barely skimmed the surface last time, but he wasn’t finding anything on demonic deal breakers. He was beginning to consider buying Dean a violin and challenging the demon to a fiddling contest.
Obviously the constant music was getting to him. He got up and shot off the stereo Kieran had flipped on when they walked through the door. The sudden silence was a little disconcerting. He suddenly realized just how empty and quiet this house must be most of the time.
He headed back to the books and his pad of notes. He was beginning to pick up a pattern, there was very little information on weapons, mostly folktales, rituals, traditions on what herbs and words would repel evil and ward against things that go bump in the night. It implied a different kind of hunter, a more defensive mindset, less focused on destroying evil and more on protecting the innocent. He absently scratched the furry head that had pushed itself under his hand; it was a nice theory, but it was leaving her very vulnerable. Thankfully she’d let Dean talk her into getting a gun on their last visit, but a few lessons and a handgun were not going to be enough if the war escalated and spilled over into her backyard.
Dean wandered in and flopped down on the couch next to him, startling Morwen and sending her out of the room in a snit.
"I could really use a cold one right about now."
"Well since you're finally done hogging it, I could use a shower," Sam shot back.
Kieran walked in as Sam left.
“Did I run him off?”
Dean shrugged. "I said I wanted a cold one and he announced he needed a shower. Didn't know he felt that way about beer bottles."
"Huh. Well, sorry to disappoint, but this is a dry county."
"Seriously, no booze?"
"Nearest liquor store is at the county line."
"Damn."
"It's not that bad, we could probably make it there and back before Sam's done with his shower."
"Let me grab the keys and tell Sam."
"Don't bother with the keys, I'll drive."
Sam shook his head as Dean yelled through the door that he and Kieran were going on a “beer run.”
Sam turned things over in his mind as he washed his hair, hot water easing muscles pulled too hard and loosening knots of tension that had been building for months. Kieran seemed to be going out of her way to spend time with just Dean, doing little things she knew would please him. And Dean, well, he flirted as easy as he breathed, but he seemed easier around Kieran. He was a little less tense, a little more likely to smile or laugh. If his brother was starting to fall for her, well, it was fast, but Dean never moved slowly with women, and he probably didn’t feel he had any time to spare.
And just like that, the worry was back. Sam shut off the water and climbed out, determined to find a way to get his brother the time he needed.
"Don't make that face at me Dean Winchester, my car, my tunes."
"Fine, but none of that emo crap."
"Wouldn't dream of it, but I make no promises about singing along."
They talked about Bobby and hunting, about her store and her girls.
"I'm so proud of them. Abby and Lizzie are seniors, they run the store for me on weekends, and part time during the summers. Zoe's a junior, but she's trying to graduate early, poor dear."
Dean raised an eyebrow at that.
"She hasn't had the best childhood, and it left her with a few issues. She's a bit of an insomniac, so she works overnight reorganizing the shelves and putting out new books. It lets her avoid crowds and put her OCD to good use."
The silence might have stretched longer if the song hadn't changed at that moment.
"Rob Zombie?"
"What? I found him by accident when I was doing research and I liked what I heard."
"Yeah, but..."
"So I'm not allowed to have a harder side? If it makes you feel better, I'm sure I could find a ribbon to tie in my hair while I sing Dragula."
"Maybe pigtails, and a short plaid skirt..."
"In your dreams, hot shot."
"Yes, please." Dean muttered.
Kieran blushed, and he realized he hadn't been quite as quiet as he thought.
"Anyways, we're almost there, and before you get any ideas this is my treat. The least I can do for my knights in shining armor is buy them a drink."
Sam was sitting on the couch with her laptop when they came through the front door.
"Hey Sam, I guess you shower faster than I thought. I'm gonna put these in the fridge, did you want one first?"
"No, no I'm fine."
"Ok, you know where they'll be if you change your mind."
Dean watched her leave then turned back to his brother.
"Why so nervous Sammy, you're not looking at porn on the nice lady's laptop are you?"
"What?"
Honestly, Dean thought, that face never got old; all these years outraging his brother and the payoff was still so sweet.
"No Dean, I'm researching, trying to find a way out of your deal, remember? She has all sorts of books in her collection and some of the older ones she scanned and saved on here."
“Any luck?”
“Not yet, but I’m going to find something, Dean. We’re going to get you out of this.”
"I know. But just in case, I think I'm gonna go spend one of my last nights having a cold beer with a pretty girl."
Sam just rolled his eyes and went back to work.
Dean joined Kieran on the back porch, beer in hand.
"Glad you joined me, now I can actually drink this thing." She held up the Smirnoff Twisted in her hand.
"No need to wait for me."
"Nope, mom told me never to drink alone and never to drink with anyone you couldn't tell your deepest secret to, because by the end of the night you just might."
"Huh, so, you don't drink much do you?"
Kieran laughed. "Almost never, I’m still trying to decide if having the cat around counts as not being alone."
They sat in silence for awhile, enjoying the peace. This far into the country the sky was nearly solid with stars; the only noises were the slight wind, the crickets, and the occasional hum of the air conditioner kicking on.
"Hey, about the whole maiden thing?"
"Yes, I am."
"Seriously? Cause I never would've guessed."
"Well I don't exactly advertise it, long white robes and ceremonial daggers are not my favorite look. I stay on the pill ‘cause it cleared up my face, but also to keep people guessing."
"So, mind if I ask why?"
"Trust. I never found anyone I trusted enough to be that vulnerable with. I mean, I'm 100% on theory, I've done my research, I’ve just never had a chance to use that knowledge."
Dean wasn't sure what to say to that. Kieran was gazing at the stars again.
"I've never even had a real kiss,” she continued quietly. “How pathetic is that?"
"I could fix that, if you want."
She turned to him, and for a moment he thought he’d gone too far. She nodded, licked her lips and finally got out two words.
"I want."
He woke from a dream of sleeping in the Impala as a child to find a cat purring on his chest. He stretched his arms and brushed against a piece of paper on the other pillow.
Dean,
Thank you for last night, what I had heard would be, at best, an uncomfortable and awkward experience was actually wonderful and I know that is thanks to you. I wanted you to know that I'm not about to start making demands, no need to run away from a shotgun wedding here. Last night was a favor to a friend, something to protect me from the evils that prey on virgins, and I know that.
The next step is up to you, if you want to stay just friends or friends with "benefits", or see if this leads somewhere more, I'll follow your lead. You don't even have to let Sam know what happened if you don't want to; I won't say a word if that's your decision.
Whenever you're ready, I'm in the kitchen. Pancakes sound good?
Kieran
Dean was stumped. The note left him with no real clues as to what she felt, and to be honest he wasn't sure what he wanted himself. Last night had happened rather suddenly, and with the specter of poor Nancy hanging over his head at the start, but it had been good. She may have been a virgin, but she knew what she wanted, he suspected there was a drawer full of toys around here somewhere, and she was eager to find out what he wanted. Afterwards they had fallen asleep together, something Dean rarely did with any of the women he was with. (It had seemed rude in some way to leave her just to go to another room in her own house.) He had to admit, it was pleasant, once they'd both adjusted and found a comfortable position. He'd awoken at one point when the cat hopped up on the bed to find that he was wrapped around Kieran, her head tucked under his chin, his arm around her waist and hers wrapped around it, holding it in place. Morwen had eyed them both then jumped down and left, presumable to sleep somewhere less crowded.
He got dressed and headed out to the kitchen. As he approached he could hear Kieran and Sam talking and laughing, about books of all things, and the inevitable music playing. ZZ Top was replaced by Three Dog Night as he padded toward them, Kieran’s voice carrying the chorus of “Shambala”. He came into the kitchen to find Kieran making pancakes and Sam buttering them as soon as they hit the plate. She was not, to his slight disappointment, still in her pjs. She wore denim capris and a round necked shirt in what a very young Sammy had dubbed “Mother Mary blue”. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail, and her feet were bare. The house seemed full of sunshine and music that morning, and Dean wondered if it was worth taking a chance, if he could make this safe haven his home. Memories of Mom and Jess and even Cassie flashed through his mind, and not just his own family, Tamara’s face after losing Isaac, Bobby’s eyes when he told them about his wife. No, trying for anything more would put her in danger, and wouldn't that be a crappy way to thank her for taking him, them, in and making them welcome?
Breakfast was hot and filling, the conversation light and friendly. Kieran produced a surprise from the back of the fridge as the boys were taking their bags back to the car.
"I hope you like pecan pie. I kind of went a little nuts with the baking when I decided to call you, and I had tons of pecans from one of the trees out back, so..."
She held out two foil covered pie tins.
Sam started laughing.
"You just found my brother's kryptonite. I hope you know he'll be demanding pie every time we see you now."
"In that case you boys need to swing by around the holidays, I really go nuts then, cakes, cookies, pies, candy, the works. I usually end up taking it all up to the store and hoping people will eat everything before it goes bad."
"We'll do that" Sam said firmly. In his head he added, ‘because he will still be here by then, I will find a way.’
"I'll hold you to that."