She Talks to Angels | {BOOK 2}

12|Cases, Cases, and More Cases

It turned out the young woman who was helping Sam was actually Ruby. She and Dean fought before Sam sent her with the man who had been possessed to the ER. Sam and Dean argued back at the motel. I tried to stop him, and remind him that we were supposed to be helping Sam get back on track, not push him away, but when Dean was angry about something, nothing could get through to him until he cooled down. We ended up getting a call from one of John's old friends and helped him with a rougarou case.

The friend, Travis, ended up getting killed by the rougarou. I felt stretched thin from trying to keep the peace and be the mediator for the two brothers the whole time. After we'd taken care of the rougarou, we dealt with this case where a guy who was obsessed with old movies. He believed he was the Dracula, and one of the waitresses working Oktoberfest was his Mina. Naturally, because Dean hit on said waitress while we were with her, he became Mr. Harker.

I knew Dean and I were still in a little bit of a weird place because of the whole deal with me and Brigham, but it didn't make the whole ordeal any easier to watch, especially when Dean wouldn't stop making out with the waitress before we left. The case after that dealt with this ghost sickness that only infected douchebags, and Dean ended up getting infected. He became super jumpy and was scared of literally every little thing. We ended up putting the ghost to rest with Bobby's help.

It was now one day before Halloween and we were looking into the death of a man who ended up choking on razor blades after eating some candy.

"Now, how many razor blades did they find?" I asked Mrs. Wallace, the victim's wife.

"Two on the floor, one in his stomach and one was stuck in his throat," she responded sadly. "He swallowed four of them. How is that even possible?"

She looked away from Sam and I, noticing Dean looking around the front of the stove and in the oven door.

"The candy was never in the oven," she snapped at him.

"We just have to be thorough, Mrs. Wallace," Dean lied quickly.

"Did the police find any other razors in the rest of the candy?" Sam inquired, drawing Mrs. Wallace's attention back to him.

"No. I mean, I don't think so. I just- I can't believe it. You hear urban legends about this stuff, but it actually happens?"

"More than you might imagine," I said, giving her a sympathetic smile.

Behind her, Dean jumped up from his place near the floor, holding up a hex bag for Sam and I to see without her noticing. I made a face and Sam sighed next to me.

"Mrs. Wallace, did Luke have any enemies?"

"Enemies?"

"Anyone who might have held a grudge against him?" I elaborated.

"What do you mean?" she asked, brow furrowed in confusion.

"Co-workers? Neighbors? Maybe a woman," Sam suggested.

"Are you suggesting an affair?"

Mrs. Wallace glared at Sam, clearly offended that he would say such a thing.

"Is it possible?" Sam pressed.

"No! No, Luke would nev-"

"I'm sorry. We have to consider all the possibilities."

"If someone wanted to kill my husband, don't you think they'd find a better way to kill my husband than a razor in a piece of candy he might eat?"

⁘

I hated Halloween. Sure, there were a few Halloweens when I was little that weren't that bad, but as I got older, the fun went out of it. Part of that had to do with an experience I had with the one and only Dean Fucking Winchester two years before they stopped coming around. Sam was studying the hex bag Dean had found and I was resting on one of the beds when Dean came back to the room. He tossed his keys down on the table under the window and then proceeded to unwrap a piece of candy from his pocket and popped it in his mouth before plopping down on the bed beside me.

"Really?" I asked him. "After that guy choked down all those razor blades?"

"It's Halloween, Ellie Bear."

"Don't remind me."

"Don't be a downer," Dean reprimanded, then looked over at Sam. "Anything interesting?"

"Well, we're on a witch hunt, that's for sure, but this isn't your typical hex bag."

"Hmm, no?" Dean asked, getting up and heading over to sit on the arm of the couch next to Sam.

Sam picked up what looked like a dried up flower from the hex bag.

"Goldthread, an herb which has been extinct for two hundred years. And this," he swapped the herb out for a silver coin, "is Celtic, and I don't mean some new age knock-off. It looks like the real deal, like 600 years old."

Dean picked up a charred looking thing from the items and smelled it.

"And um... that is the charred metacarpal bone of a newborn baby," Sam informed him.

Dean dropped the bone in disgust and my hand flew up to my locket as I turned my attention away.

"Gross," Dean said.

"Relax man, it's like, at least a hundred years old," Sam continued.

"Oh, right, like that makes it better? Witches, man, they're so friggin' skeevy."

"I'm inclined to agree with Dean on that one," I put in my two cents.

Dean looked over, winking at me as he moved from the arm rest to a chair beside the couch.

"Yeah, well it takes a pretty powerful one to put a bag like this together," Sam pointed out. "More juice than we've ever dealt with, that's for sure. What about you? Find anything on the victim?"

"This Luke Wallace?" Dean scoffed. "He was so vanilla he made vanilla seem spicy. I can't find any reason why someone would want this guy dead."

Sam hummed in acknowledgement. We were all rather annoyed by the lack of leads we had at this point. Usually we had more to go on by now. I closed my eyes, hoping maybe if I could sleep then I could ignore the fact that Halloween was tomorrow.