She Talks to Angels | {BOOK 2}

6|Summoning Castiel

Bobby was driving the truck while Dean helped me clean up in the back seat. He had gotten cut more than me, but he still insisted on tending to my few little stuff before cleaning himself up.

"How you two doin'?" Bobby asked us.

"Aside from the church bells ringin' in our heads, peachy," Dean replied.

"Your head."

"What?"

"Ringing in your head. I don't hear them," I said.

It was quiet in the truck as Dean studied me a moment, and then he pulled out his phone.

"What are you doing?" he asked when the person on the other end, who I assumed was Sam, picked up. "In my car?... Well, uh, Bobby's back. We're going to grab a beer."

Bobby looked back at Dean in shock and the elder Winchester held up a finger so he'd remain quiet.

"Done. Catch you later."

He hung up, going back to cleaning the blood off his own face.

"Why the hell didn't you tell him?" Bobby demanded.

"Because he would just try to stop us."

"From what?" I inquired.

"Summoning this thing. It's time we faced it head-on."

"You can't be serious!"

"As a heart attack. It's high noon, baby."

"Well, we don't know what it is," Bobby pointed out, siding with me. "It could be a demon, it could be anything."

"That's why we've got to be ready for anything," Dean said. "Unless Ellie wants to tell us what she knows."

When I didn't respond, he sighed.

"Alright, well. We've got the big-time magic knife, Bobby's got an arsenal in the trunk..."

"This is a bad idea," I muttered.

"Yeah, I couldn't agree more, but what other choice do we have?"

"We could choose life!" Bobby tried.

"Bobby, whatever this is, whatever it wants, it's after me. That much we know, right? I've got no place to hide. I can either get caught with my pants down again, or we can make our stand."

"Dean, we could use Sam on this," Bobby continued.

"Nah, he's better off where he is," Dean shook his head.

⁘

Bobby had drawn traps and talismans from every faith on the globe all over the floor and walls of the abandoned barn we were performing the ritual in. I was standing off to the side while Dean gathered all the equipment he could think of on a table.

"This is still a bad idea," I muttered.

"Yeah, Ellie, we heard you the first ten times. What do you two say we ring the dinner bell?"

I bit my lip as Bobby walked over to another desk and took a pinch of powder from a bowl. He added it to a larger bowl, which began to smoke. He began chanting in Latin and we all waited with bated breath for something to happen. However, by the time he was done, there was still no indication it had worked. I rolled my eyes, hopping up on a table and crossing my ankles, swinging my legs back and forth. After a few minutes of nothing, Dean joined me while Bobby sat across from us on the edge of the desk.

"You sure you did the ritual right?" Dean whined slightly, earning a stern look from the elder Hunter. "Sorry. Touchy, touchy, huh?"

As if on cue, a loud rattling shook the roof. Dean and Bobby armed themselves with shotguns and took up positions at the opposite end of the barn from the entrance.

"Wishful thinking, but maybe it's just the wind."

I scoffed at Dean's words and seconds later, the door burst open and a man stalked inside. He was handsome, with dark hair that stuck out at odd angles. He wore a rumpled business suit and tie under a tan trench coat. As he walked toward us, the lightbulbs overhead shattered in a shower of sparks on his head. What really caught my attention, however, were the dark wings curled into his back poking up over his shoulders. Dean and Bobby immediately opened fire, but the shots did nothing to slow him down. When he got closer, Dean grabbed Ruby's knife from the table.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition," the angel, Castiel, responded in a gruff voice.

"Yeah. Thanks for that."

Dean plunged the knife into Castiel's chest and hit his heart without any effects. Castiel looked down, pulling it out and dropping it to the ground with no concern. Behind him, Bobby attacked with a crowbar. Without looking, he grabbed the weapon and swung Bobby around, placing two fingers against Bobby's forehead. Bobby immediately crumpled to the ground.

"We need to talk, Dean," Castiel addressed him. "Alone."

Dean moved to check Bobby's pulse while Castiel walked over to study the book we'd gotten the ritual from. I was still sitting on the table, frozen as I stared at the wings on the angel's back. They twitched slightly, as if sensing my gaze.

"Your friend's alive," he said without looking at Dean. 

"Who are you?" Dean repeated his question from before.

"Castiel."

"Yeah, I figured that much, I mean what are you?"

"I'm an Angel of the Lord."

"Get the hell out of here. There's no such thing."

"That is your problem, Dean," Castiel said, turning to look at him then. "You have no faith."

Lightning flashed, and Castiel unfurled his wings. The lightning caused a massive shadow of them to appear on the back wall, and then as the light went out, he curled the wings back tightly against his back.

"Some angel you are," Dean spat. "You burned out that poor woman's eyes."

"I warned her not to spy on my true form. It can be... overwhelming to humans, and so can my real voice. But you already knew that."

"You mean the gas station and the motel. That was you talking?"

Castiel nodded, expression remaining serious.

"Buddy, next time, lower the volume."

"That was my mistake. Certain people, special people, like Eleanor, can perceive my true visage. I thought you would also be one of them. I was wrong."

I started at the sound of my name coming out of the angel's lips.

"And what visage are you in now, huh?" Dean demanded. "What, holy tax accountant?"

"This?" Castiel lifted one side of the trench coat. "This is... a vessel."

"You're possessing some poor bastard?"

"He's a devout man, he actually prayed for this."

"Well, I'm not buying what you're selling, so who are you really?"

"I told you," the angel frowned, the first real emotion he'd shown the entire time he'd talked to Dean.

"Right. And why would an angel rescue me from Hell?"

"Good things do happen, Dean."

"Not in my experience."

I swallowed hard, looking between the two men.

"What's the matter?" Castiel asked, getting up in Dean's face. "You don't think you deserve to be saved?"

"Why'd you do it?" Dean asked again.

"Because God commanded it. Because we have work for you to do."