In the morning, next room
The first thing I noticed about the girl was how damn young she looked.
Couldn't have been more than nineteen, lying pale as a ghost in Bobby's spare bed, that freaky glowing stone pulsing faintly where her heart should've been. The stitches around it were neat—too neat. Hess's handiwork. Guy had a surgeon's precision and a sadist's hobby.
Dean nudged me with his elbow. "Think she'll wake up before lunch? I'm starving."
Sam shot him a look. "Really, Dean?"
"What? Dude's gotta eat."
Bobby sighed like we were a pack of unruly teens. "Idjits. Focus."
I leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. "Kid's got a rock for a heart and you're worried about pancakes?"
Dean opened his mouth to retort—
A groan cut him off.
All four of us snapped to attention as the girl's fingers twitched. Her eyelids fluttered open, and dark brown eyes stared back, dazed and scared.
"Wh...where am I?" Her voice was raw, like sandpaper.
I stepped in before the Winchesters could launch into their 'we're the good guys' routine.
"These two chuckleheads pulled you outta a blood cult. Name was Dr. Hess. Ring a bell?"
Her face went blank.
Then came the blood.
A violent nosebleed gushed down her face. Her eyes rolled back and she slumped sideways.
"Shit!" Sam lunged forward, catching her before she cracked her skull.
Dean was already checking her pulse. "Still breathing. Barely."
Bobby yanked a towel from the dresser, pressing it to her nose. "What the hell was that?"
I stared at the glowing stone. The pulsing was faster now. And the surgical wounds? Closing. Fast.
"Oh, that's bad," I muttered.
Two hours later, we were crowded around Bobby's kitchen table. The mood? Grim breakfast. The coffee? Nuclear strong.
Dean shoved half a pancake into his mouth. "So. Rock heart. Freak healing. Random nosebleeds. Anybody else getting 'science project from hell' vibes?"
Sam flipped through one of Bobby's lore tomes. "Closest thing I've got is golem lore. But she's not made of clay."
"Nope," Bobby grunted. "She's made of real bad luck."
I tapped the table. "Hess said she was a backup vessel. That stone might be more than just life support. Could be prepping her for Kharon."
Dean pointed his fork at me. "Then we yank it. Now."
Sam shook his head. "We don't know what'll happen if we do. Could kill her."
Silence.
Then—
Thump.
We froze.
Another thump. Then:
"Hello?"
Her voice. Awake again.
I stood. "Showtime."
She was sitting up, pressing her hand to her chest. Eyes wide, terrified. "What is this? What did he do to me?"
Sam took the diplomatic route. "You're safe now. I'm Sam, that's Dean, Bobby, and Marcus."
"Safe?" She laughed, bitter. "I've got a damn rock in my chest."
Dean shrugged. "Could've been worse. Could be a demon."
Sam elbowed him.
I stepped forward. "Name, kid?"
"Lena. Lena Park. I was a med student. Hess offered me an internship. I thought..." Her voice cracked. "Next thing I know, I'm strapped to a table."
Bobby looked at me. Med student. Of course. Hess didn't pick victims. He picked candidates.
Lena's voice hardened. "Get it out."
Sam lifted a hand. "We don't know—"
"GET IT OUT!" Her fist slammed the bed.
The lamp beside her exploded.
Glass everywhere. Static in the air.
We stared.
Lena did too. "I... I didn't mean to..."
"Well," I said, "add 'unstable energy surges' to the list."
Back in the kitchen, Lena clutched a mug like it was a life preserver. Dean paced like a caged wolf. Bobby looked like he wanted a drink stronger than coffee.
"So," Dean said, "magic rock gives her powers. Great. How do we fix it?"
Bobby shook his head. "Only way that stone's comin' out is if we kill Kharon."
Lena's voice was a whisper. "So I'm stuck like this?"
I met her eyes. "For now."
Sam leaned forward. "Do you remember anything else? Anything Hess said?"
She nodded slowly. "He called me 'the second key.' Said I was 'almost perfect.' And he talked about you. A lot."
My stomach dropped. "Me?"
"He said you were 'the true vessel.' That the stone was a gift from his lord. To prepare me."
A gift.
Hess used that word. So did Kharon. And if this rock was a gift... maybe it wasn't just sustaining Lena.
Maybe it was changing her.
Into me.
I stood so fast my chair scraped the floor. "We need to find Kharon. Now."
Dean raised a brow. "Great. Where do we start?"
I looked at Lena. At the pulsing stone in her chest. I grinned.
"Oh, I think we've got a blood-powered GPS."
Dean blinked. "You're serious."
"Dead serious."
Because if Kharon left breadcrumbs in her body, I was damn well gonna follow them to his doorstep.
And when I got there?
God or not, he was gonna learn the hard way:
I don't do leashes.
And I don't play vessel.