Supernatural - Chapter 15: The Stakes (Patreon)

“Sit down,” Murphy said. “We need to talk.”

Bela glanced at the hand gripping her wrist, then raised her eyes to Murphy.

Her surprise lasted barely a moment before that easy, courteous smile returned, as if she really were an innocent waitress going about her job.

“Sorry.” Bela arched an eyebrow. “Have we met?”

“No,” Murphy answered flatly. “But I know who you are.”

Dean had already put his cake down. He looked warily from one woman to the other.

“Is this the thief you told us about?”

“Bela Talbot,” Murphy said. “The woman who hired two idiots to break into John's warehouse.”

Bela's smile barely shifted, but her eyes went cold at being exposed.

Sam instinctively touched the pocket containing the rabbit's foot. Naturally, Bela noticed.

Her gaze flickered before returning to Murphy. “Looks like you know more than I expected.”

“Which is why I suggested we sit down and talk.”

Bela glanced at the hand still holding her wrist. “Would you mind letting go first?”

Murphy checked Bela's free hand, then the places around her waist where she might conceal a weapon. Satisfied that Bela posed no immediate threat, she slowly released her.

Bela massaged her wrist. Rather than leaving, she pulled out an empty chair and actually sat down.

Dean hadn't expected that. “You've got some nerve, sitting down with us.”

“We're in a restaurant.” Bela smoothed her skirt with practiced elegance. “And I know something about you two.”

She pointed at the brothers.

“Neither of you goes around murdering innocent people.”

“You call someone who pays men to break into my father's warehouse and steal his things innocent?” Dean demanded.

“Your father is dead,” Bela replied evenly. “Those things were gathering dust. Nobody was using them or paying them any attention. I merely found a better use for otherwise worthless objects.”

“By selling them for a fortune to people who don't understand the supernatural?” Murphy asked calmly. She knew perfectly well that Bela cared about profit and little else.

What happened to the buyers afterward didn't concern Bela. Neither did the number of deaths her merchandise might cause. She delivered supernatural artifacts to whoever could afford them and pocketed her payment.

Sam considered that, then asked the question that mattered. “Do you know the rabbit's foot is cursed?”

“Of course,” Bela said.

“And you still sell it?”

“My clients know what they're buying.”

“Do they know they'll die if they lose it?”

Bela smiled. “I don't provide after-sales support.”

Dean was outright glaring now. He couldn't begin to understand her attitude. Sure, he'd stolen things himself, mostly because he needed to survive. Well, there had also been that Christmas present he'd stolen for Sam.

But stealing cursed objects that endangered people's lives and reselling them at outrageous prices? That was something else entirely.

Murphy took another small bite of dessert and chewed slowly, leaving the argument to the brothers for the moment.

She was watching Bela closely.

Bela appeared to be giving Dean and Sam her full attention, but she hadn't relaxed once since sitting down. Her shoulders were angled for an easy escape, and she kept a little more distance from the table than most people would.

At the first sign of real trouble, she could get up and leave.

The fact that she hadn't suggested Bela was waiting for Murphy to get to the real point.

Murphy swallowed her cake. “Why are you so desperate to make money?”

Bela looked at her. “Since when is having more money a bad thing?”

“One and a half million dollars is a nice sum,” Murphy agreed. “Wasn't your inheritance enough?”

The question struck a nerve. Bela's expression changed completely.

She shot to her feet, her carefully maintained composure gone.

“Who are you? What the hell do you know?”

Across the table, Sam and Dean exchanged puzzled looks. Neither had any idea what was happening between them.

“You don't need to know who I am. I might not know everything, but I know plenty.” Murphy sensed the murderous hostility radiating from Bela, yet she stayed calm. “Your deal's almost up, isn't it? You're running out of time.”

Bela looked ready to storm out.

“What deal?” Dean asked. “Don't tell me it's...”

He silently mouthed the rest: Like mine? Everyone at the table understood him.

“When your contract expires, nobody will be able to save you. You can't outrun Hellhounds forever.” Murphy gave Sam a reassuring glance when he stirred uneasily, then continued. “But I might be able to help.”

Bela scoffed. “Really? Didn't you just say nobody could save me? Very reassuring.”

“I've found a possible way to break the contract. And if everything else fails, we'll kill the demon holding your contracts. That should at least show you I'm serious.”

Murphy wasn't making the offer out of thin air. Whenever she'd had a spare moment during training at Bobby's, she'd buried herself in his books. Somewhere in that enormous collection, she'd actually found a promising clue. Being able to memorize information at a glance made research remarkably efficient.

An ancient formation might be the answer. Unfortunately, she hadn't found enough other texts to confirm how it worked. She hadn't dared tell Bobby or the brothers yet. Raising their hopes only to crush them would be cruel.

Which was why having someone willing to serve as a test subject mattered so much.

Bela stared at her for a moment. “What do you want from me?”

“Simple. I need your help testing a few possibilities.” Murphy sounded almost casual.

Bela fell silent for two seconds, then laughed softly.

“So you want to experiment on me?”

“You're not exactly spoiled for choice,” Murphy said frankly. “You can take a chance on me, or wait for the Hellhounds to drag you to Hell.”

“Or I could make another demon deal.”

That nearly made Murphy laugh.

“I know that's what you'll consider. I also know what the demon will offer you in exchange. And the price it asks? You'll never be able to pay it.”

“Do tell.” Bela was growing more threatened by the conversation, but this dark-haired woman was talking about the one thing she couldn't ignore.

“The demon will order you to steal the Colt from the brothers and kill them both.” Murphy's expression didn't change.

Dean and Sam went rigid. The looks they gave Bela grew distinctly unfriendly.

The Colt had no bullets at present, but it was still the only weapon in their possession capable of killing a demon. Losing it would leave them dangerously exposed.

And as for murdering them? Murphy hoped Bela wasn't arrogant enough to believe she could pull that off.

“Doesn't sound particularly difficult,” Bela replied, determined to act as though she still had leverage.

“Your choice. Refuse me and go bargain with another demon if you like. Just don't expect to steal from us as easily a second time.” Murphy gestured toward the door.

“And if you put any of our lives in danger,” Dean added, “I swear I'll hunt you down before the Hellhounds get their turn.”

“We'll see.” Bela straightened her clothes and walked out with deliberate poise.

Dean waited until she'd disappeared completely before turning to Murphy.

“Are you seriously planning to experiment on her?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” He already knew the answer before the question left his mouth.

“Because I won't gamble with your life to find out whether this works,” Murphy replied earnestly.

“She's a terrible person, sure. But that doesn't mean we should risk somebody else's life first.” Dean couldn't accept it so easily. If the attempt failed, wouldn't that be another person dying because of him?

“Dean.” Murphy understood his fear and made him meet her eyes. “Listen. I'm not doing this without any confidence at all. And in the future I remember, Bela dies to the Hellhounds whether you interfere or not. She doesn't escape.”

Dean's expression grew bleak. He couldn't help thinking about the less than a year he had left.

Sam looked at his brother with the same sorrow. If anything, the conversation only strengthened his determination to work with Murphy and save Dean.

Dean didn't speak for a while. He hated the whole idea.

Yet he couldn't honestly claim it was kinder to leave Bela to be dragged away on schedule than to let her risk trying something that might save her.

Sam pulled his thoughts back to the immediate problem. “I don't think she'll give up on the rabbit's foot.”

“Neither do I.” Murphy nodded.

“Guess we'd better look after little Sammy, then.” Dean resorted to teasing his brother to lighten his own mood.

Sam tried to ignore him, but eventually closed his eyes and rolled them anyway.

Murphy checked the time.

“Bobby should have finished checking the ritual by now. Let's find somewhere to stay, and once we've confirmed the instructions, we'll head to the cemetery.”

Dean perked up at the thought of the lottery tickets he still needed to cash.

“Before that, we could always...”

“No,” Sam said firmly.

Dean lowered his head in defeat.

Bobby called back shortly afterward.

The ingredients Murphy remembered were correct, and the purification had to be performed in a cemetery. With bone ash, cayenne pepper and a fire, they could burn the rabbit's foot and end the curse.

It sounded straightforward enough.

All they needed was a suitable cemetery and the necessary supplies.

The three of them found a motel nearby first.

With the rabbit's foot still in Sam's possession, checking in went almost absurdly well.

There was exactly one suite available because its previous guests had canceled at the last minute. Better still, a system error gave them a discount, so they could all stay together and pay less than expected.

Dean stared at the reduced rate at the front desk, so delighted he wanted to hug everyone he passed.

“I love this rabbit.”

“Maybe don't say that where Sam can hear,” Murphy suggested.

Sam stood right beside them, giving Dean a deadpan stare.

“Kind of hard not to.”

“I mean the luck,” Dean said solemnly after clearing his throat. “Not the rabbit itself.”

“There's a difference?”

“Obviously.”

Once inside, Sam tucked the rabbit's foot into an inner pocket.

He'd checked that pocket countless times on the way, terrified the charm might slip out without him noticing.

Murphy sat on the edge of a bed and watched him feel for it yet again.

She found the sight funny, but didn't quite have the heart to laugh. Instead, she patted the empty space beside her.

“Sit down and try not to move.”

“Never thought good luck could make someone this nervous.”

“That's because it isn't really luck. It's a curse.”

Sam sat beside her.

Across the room, Dean was going through his winning lottery tickets, punctuating the count with irritating little noises of excitement.

“Another winner!”

“Mm-hmm.”

“And this one!”

“Congratulations.”

“Murphy, could you at least pretend to be excited?”

She offered two perfunctory claps.

“Wow. Amazing.”

Dean studied her, then lost interest in trying to impress her. “Forget it.”

Once it got a little darker, they could go to the cemetery and destroy the foot.

Dean decided to go buy cayenne pepper, supplies to start the fire and dinner. He'd also check the location of a nearby cemetery.

Murphy intended to accompany him, but Dean pointed at Sam.

“You stay here and watch him.”

“Why? I've still got the rabbit's foot.” Sam was the one who didn't understand.

“Bela's still around,” Dean said. “That nasty bitch is bound to try something.”

“I can take care of myself,” Sam protested.

“I know.” Dean picked up his keys. “Two people are still safer than one.”

Then he turned to Murphy.

“Don't let any woman near his pockets.”

Murphy stared at him. “Do you hear how weird that sounds? And aren't I a woman?”

“Whoa, whoa. Never said you weren't.” Dean raised both hands innocently. “I'm just telling you to protect his pockets.”

“Fine.” Murphy settled onto a bed and opened her laptop.

Dean left with his winning tickets. Sam opened his own computer to research nearby cemeteries while they waited.

For a while, the room was quiet, both of them absorbed in their work.

Then Murphy went to use the bathroom. When she failed to return for a suspiciously long time, Sam realized something was wrong.

He quietly picked up his gun and crept toward the bathroom. The moment he opened the door, he found Bela holding Murphy at gunpoint and saying something he couldn't quite hear.

“Don't move.” Sam aimed directly at Bela's head.

“Well, if it isn't Sam. Nice to see you again.” Bela laughed. She didn't obey him. Instead, she pushed the muzzle harder against Murphy's waist.

“I said, don't. Move.” Sam's voice took on a dangerous edge.