27. Negotiations

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27. Negotiations

"Well, this isn't spooky at all," I say in disgust as my brothers and I enter the abandoned warehouse.

Ever since our werewolf hunt, things had been pretty quiet. It's good on our part, we got the rest that we needed. But sure enough, the action picked up again, this time in the form of a phone call from Crowley. He's the reason why we're in this crappy old place.

I swat away any chances of spider webs hitting me. I hate the feeling of them touching me at all. It gives me the impression that I'm crawling with spiders. No thank you.

"And this isn't a trap?" I ask Dean.

"He mentioned another Hand of God, I can't imagine how this would be a trap."

"Dean, this is Crowley we're talking about."

Once we're deep enough into the warehouse, we find the King of Hell himself. Alone, I might add. I'm still on guard.

"What kind of scrap did you get yourself into, Josie?" is his greeting to me. Ah, right, I'll bet he can see the scars on my face from the werewolf attack. Those haven't gone away like I wanted them to, unfortunately.

"Normal hunting business, nothing of which concerns you," I remark smartly. "But thanks for noticing my warrior blemishes."

"Nice digs," Dean cuts in. "The Crypt Keeper out of town?"

"I'm lucky to be alive," Crowley insists. "Lucifer had me trussed up like a dog in my own palace."

"'Palace'? Oh, you mean the abandoned nuthouse."

"He kept me in a kennel!" I can't help but smile at that. It's the one time I think I'll ever appreciate Lucifer. "And he turned all his demons...my demons...against me. They scour the earth, day and night, looking to kill me. He has to be dealt with."

"Aw, is the King of Hell tired of being the Devil's little bitch?" I simper.

"You know, I do believe I never asked for your input."

"So is this why you brought us here?" Dean asks Crowley. "Some lousy grudge match with Lucifer?"

"Yeah, where's this, uh, Hand of God you were talking about?" Sam jumps in.

"I'm getting to that," Crowley snaps. "Your only hope of subduing Amara is to match the level of power that she possesses."

"No kidding," I say dryly. "And?"

"And I have the Horn of Joshua."

"Joshua?" Sam inquires. "As in the Joshua that won the battle of Jericho?"

Nerdy much, Sam? He'd be the one to know things like that. Dean and I don't store all of that kind of knowledge in our brains. If we do, some of it flies out the door and is never seen again.

"And I'm willing to entrust it to your capable hands." My brothers and I look at each other. "What? I just said I'd give you the thing."

"If?" the three of us say.

"Is this how you say 'thank you'? You think these things grow on bloody trees?!"

"Cut the crap, Crowley," says Dean. "With you, there's always an 'if'."

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