She Talks to Angels | {BOOK 2}

51|Give-'Em-Hell Attitude

"What, you actually thought you could kill Lucifer?" the angel scoffed, continuing to address Dean. "You simpering wad of insecurity and self-loathing. No. You're just a human, Dean. And not much of one."

I let out a low growl in the back of my throat, lunging toward Zachariah, but was grabbed and restrained by one of the other two angels before I could reach him.

"Easy there, Ecclesia," Zachariah taunted.

"What do you mean, I'm the sword?" Dean asked, drawing the attention back to him.

"You're Michael's weapon. Or, rather, his... receptacle."

"I'm a vessel?"

"You're the vessel," the angel emphasized. "Michael's vessel."

"How? Why- why me?"

"Because you're chosen! It's a great honor, Dean."

"Oh, yeah. Yeah, life as an angel condom. That's real fun. I think I'll pass, thanks."

"Joking. Always joking. Well... no more jokes."

Zachariah raised one hand, fingers like a gun, and pointed at Dean and then shifted over to Sam.

"Bang," he said.

There was a crunch and Sam fell, unable to stand.

"God!" he cried out.

"You son of a bitch!" Dean yelled at the angel.

"Keep mouthing off, I'll break more than his legs. I am completely and utterly through screwing around. The war has begun. We don't have our general. That's bad. Now, Michael is going to take his vessel and lead the final charge against the adversary. You understand me?"

"How many humans die in the crossfire, huh?" I snapped. "A million? Five, ten?"

"Probably more," Zachariah shrugged. "If Lucifer goes unchecked, you know how many die? All of them. He'll roast the planet alive."

"There's a reason you're telling me this instead of just nabbing me," Dean realized. "You need my consent. Michael needs my say-so to ride around in my skin."

"Unfortunately, yes."

"Well there's got to be another way."

"There is no other way. There must be a battle. Michael must defeat the serpent. It is written."

I struggled against the angel's grip that was holding me, looking desperately between Dean and Zachariah.

"Yeah, maybe," Dean nodded thoughtfully. "But, on the other hand... Eat me. The answer's no."

"Okay. How about this? Your friend Bobby- we know he's gravely injured. Say yes, and we'll heal him. Say no, he'll never walk again."

Sam glanced up from the floor at Dean, who's expression remained unreadable.

"No."

"Then how about we heal you from... stage-four stomach cancer?"

Dean doubled over, coughing. I grimaced as he spit blood into his palm.

"No," he bit out.

"Then let's get really creative. Uh, let's see how... Sam does without his lungs."

Dean and I both looked over at Sam, who started gasping for breath.

"Are we having fun yet?" Zachariah smirked. "You're going to say yes, Dean."

"Just kill us."

"Kill you? Oh no, I'm just getting started."

There was a bright flash, and I felt the angel's hold on me loosen. We all turned to see him fall to the ground, a hole in his throat. Castiel stood there, holding a bloody silver blade. We watched as he fought with Zachariah's other lackey, finally managing to stab him in the back. Sam had fallen still and silent over the course of the fight.