Meg (meganmasters) wrote in thedarkhouse, @ 2013-05-13 14:04:00 |
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Meg moved stealthily from room to room. So far she'd managed to check most of the 8th and 7th floors, but she'd steadfastly avoided the 6th. If that was where Dean Winchester had set up shop, then she had no interest in going there. Ever. At least, not unless his brother or her angel showed up. She'd never been Dean's biggest fan, but the way he'd spoken to her had gotten under her skin. Exactly how many times was she expected to risk her life for them, completely flying in the face of every natural instinct she possessed, before he got over his own personal bullshit? She'd tried to kill him. And? He'd tried to kill her, too, and no one seemed to care that she wasn't holding a grudge over that. She was a demon, he was a hunter. It was their thing. But times had changed, and she'd had to change with them. But there was Dean, stuck like a boulder in the middle of the river. She hated him for that. Not in the way she had before. Not as her enemy. She hated him because, as much as they disliked each other, she'd always felt like he was a man of his word. Like she could trust him not to stab her in the back. Apparently she'd been wrong. She entered an empty bedroom carefully, scanning the floor. Not every room had a devil's trap, but enough of them did to make her nervous. This room certainly had one. Bending down, she used the broken chair leg she'd taken from the furniture room to gently scratch through the outer ring in several places. She made small lines, so they would go unnoticed, all around the ring. Even if they saw one, they might miss one of the others, and she could avoid the trap, even if she was bodily thrown into it. Satisfied, she scanned the room briefly, looking for anything useful, but nothing caught her eye. She didn't have a lot of needs, as it was, but she held out hope that something she could actually use, like an Angel blade or, at the very least, a decent knife, would turn up. She hadn't had an excuse to use her power since she'd been here, but she'd gotten the general impression that such a thing was dicey at best. She didn't know how much the house itself would be able to block her, and she wanted to be prepared for that. Stepping back into the hall, she closed the door behind her, being careful to leave no obvious sign of her visit. The longer she went without the hunters knowing what she was up to, the better. More than that, she didn't want to leave behind anything that might help them track her. There weren't a great many places to hide, trapped in a single house with so many people. She didn't want to make it any easier for them to find her than need be. |