Looks like a solo tonight, Part 2
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Epilogue - Masterpost
Jo might be out of her comfort zone, but if there was one thing she knew, it was drinks.
They shot pool in the lower level of Mark's giant mansion, sipping martinis like spies. Jo offered to pour so she could peruse Mark's mother's liquor selection, and found that the bar was, unsurprisingly, fully stocked. Simone begged her to teach her how to mix drinks.
"So this is how the other half live," Jo said, giving her a severe look as Simone speared olives for their drinks inexpertly.
Jo flipped the gin bottle twice and poured without measuring, grinning as Mark whistled appreciatively from across the room.
When she'd made the drinks, she slid glasses over to Jack who delivered them, clinking his against Bela's. They linking their arms between them and drank like they were two undercover agents who'd fallen in love and lived the classy life.
When Jack turned away, Bela sent Jo a look that said, just play along for now and Jo fixed herself another. She wondered again what she was doing there but was having a great time.
Mark sidled up to the bar with two cue sticks, interrupting Jo's thoughts. "So, how's your pool?" he asked.
"I'm alright," she said.
"If you're as good as you are with a gun, I'm in trouble."
"She's better," Bela called over.
Mark laughed, and Jo was going to say that he should see her with a real gun, not a plastic one, but then the pool balls rolled out onto the table and she just shook her head. "Are you shitting me?"
The cue ball was made of crystal, the curve of the numbers stamped on in gold. The rest of the balls were made of stone of various deep colors, and shone in the light.
"My dad's kind of a dick," Mark explained apologetically, for the first time sounding somewhat aware of his circumstances.
"I've seen your car," Jo countered.
Mark shrugged, but looked pleased.
"I so do not feel bad beating your ass," Jo told him and found that, strangely, her laughter wasn't even forced. She shared a brief glance with Bela then turned and took a stick. "Your break."
Jo and Mark weren't evenly matched at pool, not at all. In the end, he said, "Get outta here" and started up a game with Jack.
Jo almost felt bad for him.
She snagged the bottle of tequila as she passed the bar, and some lime wedges, and sat near Bela. The sofa was the nicest Jo had ever sat on. She felt like she could curl up right there and sleep for a year.
"Would you like another drink?" she offered.
Bela's lips quirked. "Trying to get me talkative, are you?"
"Something like that," Jo said.
Bela looked even more inviting after a couple drinks, and her mouth was very pretty. Pity the accusations that came out of it, though.
Jo sighed. "At least have the decency to start spilling your secrets; I'm not here for my health, you know."
Bela's eyes widened. "Oh, sorry. You seem to be laboring under false assumptions. I'll never let my guard down, I'm a master of secrecy."
Jo shook her head. "You talk a big game." She fixed up a shot for Bela, handing it over as an excuse to sit closer. Their fingers slid together on the cool glass, and Jo said, eyes never leaving Bela's, "Watch out, I'm a master of interrogation."
"That good, are you?" Bela said, raising the shot glass to her lips.
"Mm."
"I don't believe you."
"Can't blame a girl for trying." She curled her legs up under herself on the cushion, shoes off, and leaned against the back of the couch. She was sore from digging, hands rough. She got the feeling Bela didn't mind her jeans, though, or the smell of lighter fluid that was still evident on her fingers.
"I've always dreamed of being rich and the best in my field," Bela said suddenly, just audible over the shrieking of laughter by the pool table. When Jo smiled, Bela slapped a hand over her mouth in mock horror. "Oh goodness, is this what it's like to be so brutally honest? This strange compulsion?"
"For the first time in your life." Jo said uncharitably, but her eyes stayed trained on Bela even though Mark was trying to juggle a few margarita limes across the bar and Simone was doing a shirtless handstand on the pool table in her green bra.
Bela said, "You really do have a gift."
"Try harder," Jo told her. "My reputation rests on this moment."
Bela leaned towards her on the couch, eyes bright as she looked up through her lashes. Jo took a fortifying shot of tequila, licking salt from her hand and wondering what Bela would tell her.
"My middle name really is Becky," Bela confessed. "Oops, that's something I've never divulged to anyone. I must be quite inebriated." She smirked at Jo.
"Shut up," Jo said, trying yet failing to bite back a smile.
"Jo?" said Bela, lightly.
"Mm?"
Bela touched her arm. "Jo, I'll be honest with you. My favorite color is purple, and I've never owned a CD in my life." She sounded at once contrite and earnest as she continued. "I think American chocolate is horrible and I rarely use the internet for anything other than business. That's why I haven't answered your friend request."
Jo finally laughed in spite of herself. "Stop making fun of me. I don't even have Facebook."
Bela took another sip of her drink, and then put the glass behind her. She pushed a hand up Jo's leg, knee to thigh, and Jo's breath caught at the feeling of Bela leaning in to say into her cheek, "I plan to become the youngest self-made billionaire the world has ever seen, and I'm doing rather well at it so far if I do say so myself. And yet, despite all that, the best money I think I've ever spent was two hundred dollars on gas from the Chicago airport to a roadside bar called The Roadhouse, in the middle of bloody nowhere, Nebraska."
"Aw, that's so sweet," Jo said, but her smile was real. Bela rolled her eyes and ducked away when Jo tried to pat her cheek, visibly embarrassed for the first time since Jo had met her. Her admission seemed like an apology of sorts, and Jo felt strangely touched.
"Hot tub!" Jack yelled, and hung over the couch between them. "You girls ready for this?"
"Give us five minutes," Bela said, smiling sweetly at him. "You go ahead."
"Clothing optional," Mark reminded them.
"Put your money where your mouth is," Jo shouted after him, and then, when they'd all left the room, "What a dick."
She hadn't even felt Bela move off the couch, but when she looked, Bela was at the door that led to the rest of the house, giving her an impatient look.
Jo frowned, getting up to follow.
"What are we-"
"We have about ten minutes, I think," Bela called behind her, her loud whisper echoing in the foyer beyond.
It was a cavernous space, and blue in the darkness, all the lights off and moonlight coming in high windows to reflect off marble floors and the sweeping bannister.
Bela made a beeline to the staircase and Jo started up after her.
"Why are we..." But Jo didn't finish the question. She saw suddenly what she'd known all along, what she hadn't wanted to let herself fully realize.
"Do they keep the dagger up there?" she said, already knowing the answer.
Bela was far ahead. "As long as my information is correct, yes."
So Bela was a thief. The moment Jo thought it, she knew it was true.
Jo followed at a distance as Bela stalked along the upstairs hall like a cat, eyes flicking to each door they passed and stepping quietly, quickly, with utmost precision. She seemed suddenly dangerous, sly words and a lovely face only completing the picture.
Jo knew now. The next question was what Jo was going to do about it.
"Hurry up," Bela said.
Self-preservation would have to win out for the time being. Jo would get them in and out and then deal with this issue in the light of day.
Jo paused by a door.
"This way," she said, and turned the knob. When Bela gave her an incredulous look, Jo said, "What? I don't want to be stuck in here when they come looking for us. Let's get this done with as fast as possible."
Bela shook her head and pushed into the room. When she saw what was inside, she smiled. "Well done, Harvelle."
Jo shook her head. "The study is always where the secret stash is," she told her, suddenly annoyed once more at Bela's condescending surprise that Jo couldn't possibly have something valuable to add. "You might be good at this whole cat burglar thing, but you walked right past a room that literally says 'study' on it. I'll do the leading from now on, ok?"
"Hey-" Bela began, but Jo cut her off, deciding that the somewhat romantic moment had broken already so she might as well go for broke.
"Speaking of missing the boat," she said. "You say the best money you ever spent was two hundred dollars on gas from Chicago to Nebraska? How lost did you get? Jesus, were you driving in circles? That should have been fifty dollars, tops."
"Thank you," Bela said after a lengthy pause. "For the character assessment. Can I go inside now or do you have any more constructive criticism to share with me?"
Jo pushed in past her, muttering, "Let me go in first, you might get lost on the way to the knife."
She heard Bela scoff behind her, but ignored her, already casing the study.
An ostentatious desk was in the center of the room, a laptop on it but not much else. The bookshelves were loaded with hardcover books on one side but other shelves held what looked, by the beam of Bela's small flashlight, to be artifacts. On close examination of a set of golden goblets, Jo could make out etching in some language or runes she didn't recognize, and diamond earrings appeared to be glowing a preternatural blue.
"A jawbone," Bela said under her breath, examining, well, just that, on the third shelf. "I wonder whose-?"
Jo had the feeling something bad was going to happen if they didn't leave soon, like they were sure to trip a wire, or Mark would come see what she and Bela were doing - two girls he'd met at an arcade, wandering the upstairs of his mother's house, touching the jewelry and eyeballing the fine china. Jo wasn't exactly used to sneaking around, was more versed in brute force, so all this silent examination had her on edge. Three minutes had already passed since they'd come upstairs and the clock was still ticking.
Bela swung her light around, and the beam glinted off of what appeared to be sapphires, bulging along the handle of a knife, set upright on a wooden display stand in one corner of the room. From the looks of it, it was ancient, and Jo had no doubt in her mind that this was the dagger they'd come for.
Bela considered the display from all sides, waving her hand in the general vicinity. When nothing happened and no traps seemed to have been lain, she reached towards the hilt.
Jo cringed, watching through one eye and barely daring to look. But Bela lifted the dagger from its stand and slipped it into her dress with no extra fanfare. Jo let out a harsh breath when no flashing lights flooding the room, nothing seemed to have changed save the now-empty display.
When nothing continued to happen, she stepped in close at Bela's side. "Now please can we go? As in, very soon?"
"I'm not opposed to the idea," Bela said, but her voice was distracted and instead of leaving the room, she crossed it to peer in through a second door which she pushed open with the back of her hand. Jo wondered whether American police had Bela's fingerprints on file.
"But shouldn't we look into the rest of Mrs. Lynch's collection? That is why we're here, after all." She glanced into a vase on a table.
"No!" Jo said. "Bela, we got what we came for. Now we have to go. And before you ask, the answer is yes, you're leaving with me."
Bela acknowledged her finally, frowning and advancing on Jo. "Is there somewhere else you need to be? Because I'm not forcing you to stay."
There was an edge to Bela's voice that Jo didn't like. "So what," she said. "You're just going to steal a bunch of shit, get your money, and then take off? On to the next job?"
"Maybe," Bela said, stepping forward again. When Jo took a step back in kind, she reached out a hand. "Watch out!"
It was already too late.
Jo's elbow knocked a ceramic bowl from a display table, and in her mind's eye she saw what would happen next - china shattering, alarms blaring, an unfortunate scuffle with the local law enforcement.
None of that happened however. She caught the bowl on reflex, an inch before it hit the ground, fingers pinched tight around the edge.
"Jo," Bela said after they'd both exhaled in relief. "Let's clear things up, shall we?"
Jo replaced the bowl to its pedestal.
"I know what you are."
"No you don't," Jo said, then shut up. If she'd had any siblings she'd be better at lying, probably, quicker on her feet.
"The way you caught that bowl. Explain that."
"I did karate for a long time-" Jo tried.
Bela put her hands behind her back, pacing for a moment. "I know more than you obviously give me credit for, which I'll admit is flattering. It's something of a testament to my skill that I can pull one over on someone like you."
"I don't know what you-"
She was still cursing herself for giving the game away when Bela flung the knife at her.
Jo ducked on instinct, then wheeled around to see that the dagger was embedded in the wall behind her, just inches from where her head had been a moment before. It stuck there, quivering.
Jo moved quickly, grabbing Bela by the arm and swinging her around and up against the same wall. "That could have killed me! And if that dagger's so valuable, why'd you throw it at my face!"
"You ducked," Bela pointed out. "A dagger flying through the air. Tell me that's something your everyday waitress can do and I'll believe you."
"What is it you think you know about me?"
She watched up close as Bela's mouth curled into a Cheshire cat grin, as she said, "You're a hunter."
"What?" Jo squeaked.
There was a long, dark silence, the only light dull from behind the curtain. She could feel Bela's pulse hot under her hands.
"I'm right, aren't I?" Bela said, and somehow it didn't seem like a threat.
"Are you in the business, then?" Jo asked, letting her question be enough of an admission.
"Do I seem like a hunter to you?"
She didn't, but she was definitely something. By the disdain in Bela's voice, Jo could imagine the cool look she was giving her in the dark.
"Well you're definitely not a civilian," Jo said. "Are you undercover? On the run? An international criminal?"
"I told you, I'm a trader of sorts," Bela told her. But when Jo gave her an unimpressed look, Bela conceded, "I buy and sell magical items for a select clientele."
It was hard to tamp down on the tentative excitement, that Bela was someone who she could be on the level with, that there was finally someone else. It felt the same as when she'd met Dean and Sam Winchester a year ago, when suddenly having friends her age had become a possibility. She lived in a world of dried blood, of guns and midnight graves, and it turned out Bela was a part of that.
"Magic," Jo repeated. The word tasted dusty on her tongue.
Bela inclined her head.
"So you move around a lot?" Jo said.
"I do a lot of international travel, yes. Is this really what you're interested in?"
Jo ignored her. "Dangerous?"
Bela tested Jo's grip, pulling at her hands until Jo's fingers tightened. "People try to blackmail me," Bela confirmed.
"And?"
"And so I blackmail them instead."
"Right."
Jo had no right to judge of course. She hadn't been in the field much herself, true, but she was borderline ruthless. Just last week she'd won five hundred bucks at the pinball machine off a guy she knew had just come back from a failed hunt. She hadn't gone easy on him, either.
"Glamorous," she said.
Bela let out a quiet laugh in the dark. "Hardly. Imagine trying to stay presentable when you've got to buy new straighteners everywhere you go. I always forget my power converter."
Jo laughed. She couldn't imagine.
"Half the time I'm on the run from the authorities," Bela continued, tone mild. Her closeness was intoxicating. "I'm wanted by the Italian police."
If it were anyone else dropping that detail into conversation, Jo would refuse to bite, but coming from Bela it somehow didn't seem like bragging. "Oh, why's that?"
"I was arrested in Rome once and managed to talk my way out of handcuffs. I managed to escape and then hopped on the next train out of the country."
"But couldn't you have just paid the fine? Seeing as you're in the lucrative business of extortion."
Bela shrugged, the warm brush of her shoulder next to Jo's. "It's true, I was offered a pardon for a small fee, but I'm not the type of girl who likes to concede."
"I see." Jo couldn't decide if Bela was a pathological liar, or really was that adventurous, living a life that sounded far-flung and expensive. She imagined Bela in dark sunglasses disappearing into a crowd in an Italian piazza and decided it was probable she'd end up with an inferiority complex. That is, if Jo herself wasn't in the business of saving the world.
"And recently I became acquainted with an adorable pair of hunters. Brothers in fact. They currently want my head."
Bela gasped as Jo crowded her in further against the wall. The fabric of her dress bunched beneath the push of Jo's fingers, too-thin.
"Sam and Dean?"
"Oh, do you know them?" Bela laughed
"I do," Jo said, her grip on Bela's shoulder was hard in case she tried to get away.
"They're alive, if that's what you're worried about."
Jo didn't back off. "What'd you do to them?"
"What did I do? More like what they did. They royally messed up a job I was working. They surrendered a large sum in lottery tickets, which helped take the edge off the financial loss at least. Needless to say, we're not exactly on good terms now, so I wouldn't mention it. Anyway, I left them alone after that." She put her mouth to Jo's ear. "I'm a lover, you see. Not a fighter."
"Let's get out of here," Jo whispered. "But first-"
She dipped in, and Bela went easy, slinging her arms around Jo's neck. She allowed Jo to press her against the shelves and kiss her slow, making a pleased sound when Jo smoothed a hand up her bare thigh, and didn't seem to mind that Jo was wearing yesterday's clothes or that her mouth tasted like tequila.
"There," Jo said, face hot as she pulled back a moment later. She fixed the dress strap where it had slid softly down Bela's shoulder then grabbed the dagger by the hilt to pull it from the wall.
It came free easily, and felt...powerful...in her hand. There was no other way to describe it really.
"You're right, it's time to go," Bela said. She trailed a finger along Jo's arm, and Jo gasped, looking to her once again, at that mouth she'd just touched to hers.
Bela then went to the window. "The stairs are too dangerous, we'll never get out that way. By now they're probably searching for us."
Jo realized belatedly that Bela had taken the dagger from her without her noticing. She was all tricks and sleights of hand, Jo shouldn't trust her.
Bela tossed a rope she had been hiding who knew where out the window and secured it to the radiator in a complicated knot. She tested the rope like she was planning to actually go through with it.
Suddenly, this all seemed like a very bad idea.
Bela had the hint of a smirk on her face when she said, "You coming?"
Jo came closer, noticing how Bela moved the dagger into her dress as Jo came within arm's distance. Jo's heart jumped into her throat when she glanced over the window ledge, down the length of the rope that dangled three storeys, and couldn't see the ground below.
"Yeah," she said, and wondered again how her night had been turned so thoroughly on its head. "Piece of cake."
Bela met her eyes, appraising her. "Heights? That's a new one."
"I am not afraid of heights."
Bela just clambered out the window, gloves on to protect her hands, and slid quietly down the rope, disappearing into the dark. Again Jo had the image of a cat in her mind's eye. A cat burglar.
When she didn't hear a crash below, Jo stepped up to the sill again. The rope was swinging, not taut with weight and she knew Bela had made it safely.
Her turn then. The room was eerily silent and she felt very guilty like this, alone in someone else's house now that she didn't have Bela as an excuse.
She had to escape, and quickly.
Before she could talk herself out of it, she'd wrapped her jacket sleeves around the rope and clambered backward out the window. The air was cold on the back of her neck, her fingers holding deadly tight to the rope, the only thing between her and a deadly drop.
She took one deep breath before falling back into sitting position with her feet planted against the wall in front of her.
She walked steadily down that way, not allowing herself to think about the precarious position she was in, teeth chattering with cold and nerves, making her way down the dark side of the house.
When her feet touched ground an eternity later, her hands were raw but not cut through thanks to her jacket. She landed in an ungainly collapse of weight and got shakily to her knees, instantly looking around for Bela.
Neither Bela nor the dagger were anywhere to be found. Not that Jo was surprised. At least she had a getaway car.
The sound of screeching tires, however, disabused her of that plan. Her hand flew to her pocket for her keys, which were also missing.
"Goddammit, Bela!" she growled, and then took off at a sprint.
Dean picked up on the sixth ring that night and Jo ignored the note of surprise in his voice.The call was long overdue.
"Nice to hear you haven't gotten yourself killed yet," she said by way of hello.
"Nice to hear you've got some faith in my skills," he countered. "So, what's going on?"
Jo thought of the night she'd had, of the lighter fluid she had in her trunk and the iron crowbar she kept in the glove compartment just in case, the road map spread out across the passenger seat with a record of the three hundred miles in her rearview mirror. How Bela had stolen her car only to drop it at the edge of town, and it was lucky Jo had Ash to hack police reports to track it down for her.
"Nothin'," she said. She pulled her beer to her on the scratched bar and leaned in on an elbow. "Well, I just finished a case. And stumbled over another one, maybe."
"Yeah?"
"You don't sound too surprised."
"Heard from your mom you're out on your own."
"She really called you?"
"Hell, I'm sure she called everyone." There was a sound of him taking a long drink. He was in a bar, too, from the sound of it. "Seems like just yesterday she had you on lockdown for the rest of your twenties."
"Yeah, no thanks to someone," Jo said, but softened it with a smile she thought he could hear.
"Case go all right?"
"Yeah, yeah, it was fine. Restless spirit." She hesitated. Then, "Hey, Dean? I hear you've been making a friend of mine very happy." She saw Bela when she briefly closed her eyes.
"Oh really?"
"You sound surprised."
"No, it's not every day I manage to make someone happy. I usually make someone dead, you know?"
"Don't sell yourself short."
"So, what's her name?"
"Wow, don't even remember their names? You do get around, don't you?"
He said, "I've got a lotta mileage, Jo."
"Does Bela Talbot ring any bells? You handed off some Lotto tickets?"
Jo grinned as Dean swore under his breath. He muttering Bela's name, followed by a sound of outrage that was presumably Sam. She traced a pattern in the splintery wood and kept smiling at nothing, listening to the argument that was too faint and muddled to hear. "Still there, Dean?"
"Yeah, Jo. Listen, sorry to ruin sleepovers for you-"
"We do not have sleepovers."
"-but Bela's no good."
Jo thought about the coy slide of dress strap down Bela's shoulder in the moonlight. "I don't know, Dean...she looked good to me."
There was a silence as Dean digested that one.
"Even so," he said finally. "That girl messes with stuff that's bigger than her, without proper protection. It's just, after all we've been through, I don't wanna see you get involved with someone who doesn't have the best of intentions. I think of you like a sister, you know? Hell, Bela's not even her real name." He took an audible breath, like he was steeling himself. "Nearly got Sam killed."
"I'm sorry about that," Jo said, and she was, even though mention of Sam's name always brought to mind a time she'd been tied to a pole in the roadhouse.
"Damn, Jo, I didn't mean to-"
"Water under the bridge," she said quickly. "I'll be careful. Thanks."
"Getting out on your own, it's good for you," he said, his voice all rusty. "But you ever send out an S.O.S., I'll be ready to save your green ass."
"You know what? Screw you, Dean. I'm fine on my own."
"Right back at you."
He laughed, low and personal so that Jo wished there wasn't somewhere else Dean and Sam had to be all the time. She'd always felt this connection with him she suspected went both ways, that bond only hunter brats could share. She thought they could've been good friends if circumstances were different.
He didn't hang up then, and neither did Jo, and when he spoke again, his voice came out low with warning, like he was saying something though he knew she wouldn't listen. "I have a feeling this ain't gonna be the last time I say this, Jo, but I'd steer clear. That girl'll get you just where she wants you and convince you to hand her all the cash in your pocket."
"Yeah, yeah. Call me in a month and I'll tell you all about my broken heart."
"Looking forward to it. Oh, and Sam says 'hi.'"
She hung up on him, her heart lighter. And as for his warnings, Jo didn't think what he said would prove to be a problem. It's not like she knew where to find Bela, not like she had Bela's number. The country was big with little chance of their paths crossing.
Jo had all these big plans, a billion things to do. And if she did run into Bela again in the meantime? Well she could already tell, together they would have the world at their feet, easy. With Bela, it felt like the middle of things. It felt like deep lakes and high bridges. Like possibility.
Love crept in like a thief.
Part 3
Jo might be out of her comfort zone, but if there was one thing she knew, it was drinks.
They shot pool in the lower level of Mark's giant mansion, sipping martinis like spies. Jo offered to pour so she could peruse Mark's mother's liquor selection, and found that the bar was, unsurprisingly, fully stocked. Simone begged her to teach her how to mix drinks.
"So this is how the other half live," Jo said, giving her a severe look as Simone speared olives for their drinks inexpertly.
Jo flipped the gin bottle twice and poured without measuring, grinning as Mark whistled appreciatively from across the room.
When she'd made the drinks, she slid glasses over to Jack who delivered them, clinking his against Bela's. They linking their arms between them and drank like they were two undercover agents who'd fallen in love and lived the classy life.
When Jack turned away, Bela sent Jo a look that said, just play along for now and Jo fixed herself another. She wondered again what she was doing there but was having a great time.
Mark sidled up to the bar with two cue sticks, interrupting Jo's thoughts. "So, how's your pool?" he asked.
"I'm alright," she said.
"If you're as good as you are with a gun, I'm in trouble."
"She's better," Bela called over.
Mark laughed, and Jo was going to say that he should see her with a real gun, not a plastic one, but then the pool balls rolled out onto the table and she just shook her head. "Are you shitting me?"
The cue ball was made of crystal, the curve of the numbers stamped on in gold. The rest of the balls were made of stone of various deep colors, and shone in the light.
"My dad's kind of a dick," Mark explained apologetically, for the first time sounding somewhat aware of his circumstances.
"I've seen your car," Jo countered.
Mark shrugged, but looked pleased.
"I so do not feel bad beating your ass," Jo told him and found that, strangely, her laughter wasn't even forced. She shared a brief glance with Bela then turned and took a stick. "Your break."
Jo and Mark weren't evenly matched at pool, not at all. In the end, he said, "Get outta here" and started up a game with Jack.
Jo almost felt bad for him.
She snagged the bottle of tequila as she passed the bar, and some lime wedges, and sat near Bela. The sofa was the nicest Jo had ever sat on. She felt like she could curl up right there and sleep for a year.
"Would you like another drink?" she offered.
Bela's lips quirked. "Trying to get me talkative, are you?"
"Something like that," Jo said.
Bela looked even more inviting after a couple drinks, and her mouth was very pretty. Pity the accusations that came out of it, though.
Jo sighed. "At least have the decency to start spilling your secrets; I'm not here for my health, you know."
Bela's eyes widened. "Oh, sorry. You seem to be laboring under false assumptions. I'll never let my guard down, I'm a master of secrecy."
Jo shook her head. "You talk a big game." She fixed up a shot for Bela, handing it over as an excuse to sit closer. Their fingers slid together on the cool glass, and Jo said, eyes never leaving Bela's, "Watch out, I'm a master of interrogation."
"That good, are you?" Bela said, raising the shot glass to her lips.
"Mm."
"I don't believe you."
"Can't blame a girl for trying." She curled her legs up under herself on the cushion, shoes off, and leaned against the back of the couch. She was sore from digging, hands rough. She got the feeling Bela didn't mind her jeans, though, or the smell of lighter fluid that was still evident on her fingers.
"I've always dreamed of being rich and the best in my field," Bela said suddenly, just audible over the shrieking of laughter by the pool table. When Jo smiled, Bela slapped a hand over her mouth in mock horror. "Oh goodness, is this what it's like to be so brutally honest? This strange compulsion?"
"For the first time in your life." Jo said uncharitably, but her eyes stayed trained on Bela even though Mark was trying to juggle a few margarita limes across the bar and Simone was doing a shirtless handstand on the pool table in her green bra.
Bela said, "You really do have a gift."
"Try harder," Jo told her. "My reputation rests on this moment."
Bela leaned towards her on the couch, eyes bright as she looked up through her lashes. Jo took a fortifying shot of tequila, licking salt from her hand and wondering what Bela would tell her.
"My middle name really is Becky," Bela confessed. "Oops, that's something I've never divulged to anyone. I must be quite inebriated." She smirked at Jo.
"Shut up," Jo said, trying yet failing to bite back a smile.
"Jo?" said Bela, lightly.
"Mm?"
Bela touched her arm. "Jo, I'll be honest with you. My favorite color is purple, and I've never owned a CD in my life." She sounded at once contrite and earnest as she continued. "I think American chocolate is horrible and I rarely use the internet for anything other than business. That's why I haven't answered your friend request."
Jo finally laughed in spite of herself. "Stop making fun of me. I don't even have Facebook."
Bela took another sip of her drink, and then put the glass behind her. She pushed a hand up Jo's leg, knee to thigh, and Jo's breath caught at the feeling of Bela leaning in to say into her cheek, "I plan to become the youngest self-made billionaire the world has ever seen, and I'm doing rather well at it so far if I do say so myself. And yet, despite all that, the best money I think I've ever spent was two hundred dollars on gas from the Chicago airport to a roadside bar called The Roadhouse, in the middle of bloody nowhere, Nebraska."
"Aw, that's so sweet," Jo said, but her smile was real. Bela rolled her eyes and ducked away when Jo tried to pat her cheek, visibly embarrassed for the first time since Jo had met her. Her admission seemed like an apology of sorts, and Jo felt strangely touched.
"Hot tub!" Jack yelled, and hung over the couch between them. "You girls ready for this?"
"Give us five minutes," Bela said, smiling sweetly at him. "You go ahead."
"Clothing optional," Mark reminded them.
"Put your money where your mouth is," Jo shouted after him, and then, when they'd all left the room, "What a dick."
She hadn't even felt Bela move off the couch, but when she looked, Bela was at the door that led to the rest of the house, giving her an impatient look.
Jo frowned, getting up to follow.
"What are we-"
"We have about ten minutes, I think," Bela called behind her, her loud whisper echoing in the foyer beyond.
It was a cavernous space, and blue in the darkness, all the lights off and moonlight coming in high windows to reflect off marble floors and the sweeping bannister.
Bela made a beeline to the staircase and Jo started up after her.
"Why are we..." But Jo didn't finish the question. She saw suddenly what she'd known all along, what she hadn't wanted to let herself fully realize.
"Do they keep the dagger up there?" she said, already knowing the answer.
Bela was far ahead. "As long as my information is correct, yes."
So Bela was a thief. The moment Jo thought it, she knew it was true.
Jo followed at a distance as Bela stalked along the upstairs hall like a cat, eyes flicking to each door they passed and stepping quietly, quickly, with utmost precision. She seemed suddenly dangerous, sly words and a lovely face only completing the picture.
Jo knew now. The next question was what Jo was going to do about it.
"Hurry up," Bela said.
Self-preservation would have to win out for the time being. Jo would get them in and out and then deal with this issue in the light of day.
Jo paused by a door.
"This way," she said, and turned the knob. When Bela gave her an incredulous look, Jo said, "What? I don't want to be stuck in here when they come looking for us. Let's get this done with as fast as possible."
Bela shook her head and pushed into the room. When she saw what was inside, she smiled. "Well done, Harvelle."
Jo shook her head. "The study is always where the secret stash is," she told her, suddenly annoyed once more at Bela's condescending surprise that Jo couldn't possibly have something valuable to add. "You might be good at this whole cat burglar thing, but you walked right past a room that literally says 'study' on it. I'll do the leading from now on, ok?"
"Hey-" Bela began, but Jo cut her off, deciding that the somewhat romantic moment had broken already so she might as well go for broke.
"Speaking of missing the boat," she said. "You say the best money you ever spent was two hundred dollars on gas from Chicago to Nebraska? How lost did you get? Jesus, were you driving in circles? That should have been fifty dollars, tops."
"Thank you," Bela said after a lengthy pause. "For the character assessment. Can I go inside now or do you have any more constructive criticism to share with me?"
Jo pushed in past her, muttering, "Let me go in first, you might get lost on the way to the knife."
She heard Bela scoff behind her, but ignored her, already casing the study.
An ostentatious desk was in the center of the room, a laptop on it but not much else. The bookshelves were loaded with hardcover books on one side but other shelves held what looked, by the beam of Bela's small flashlight, to be artifacts. On close examination of a set of golden goblets, Jo could make out etching in some language or runes she didn't recognize, and diamond earrings appeared to be glowing a preternatural blue.
"A jawbone," Bela said under her breath, examining, well, just that, on the third shelf. "I wonder whose-?"
Jo had the feeling something bad was going to happen if they didn't leave soon, like they were sure to trip a wire, or Mark would come see what she and Bela were doing - two girls he'd met at an arcade, wandering the upstairs of his mother's house, touching the jewelry and eyeballing the fine china. Jo wasn't exactly used to sneaking around, was more versed in brute force, so all this silent examination had her on edge. Three minutes had already passed since they'd come upstairs and the clock was still ticking.
Bela swung her light around, and the beam glinted off of what appeared to be sapphires, bulging along the handle of a knife, set upright on a wooden display stand in one corner of the room. From the looks of it, it was ancient, and Jo had no doubt in her mind that this was the dagger they'd come for.
Bela considered the display from all sides, waving her hand in the general vicinity. When nothing happened and no traps seemed to have been lain, she reached towards the hilt.
Jo cringed, watching through one eye and barely daring to look. But Bela lifted the dagger from its stand and slipped it into her dress with no extra fanfare. Jo let out a harsh breath when no flashing lights flooding the room, nothing seemed to have changed save the now-empty display.
When nothing continued to happen, she stepped in close at Bela's side. "Now please can we go? As in, very soon?"
"I'm not opposed to the idea," Bela said, but her voice was distracted and instead of leaving the room, she crossed it to peer in through a second door which she pushed open with the back of her hand. Jo wondered whether American police had Bela's fingerprints on file.
"But shouldn't we look into the rest of Mrs. Lynch's collection? That is why we're here, after all." She glanced into a vase on a table.
"No!" Jo said. "Bela, we got what we came for. Now we have to go. And before you ask, the answer is yes, you're leaving with me."
Bela acknowledged her finally, frowning and advancing on Jo. "Is there somewhere else you need to be? Because I'm not forcing you to stay."
There was an edge to Bela's voice that Jo didn't like. "So what," she said. "You're just going to steal a bunch of shit, get your money, and then take off? On to the next job?"
"Maybe," Bela said, stepping forward again. When Jo took a step back in kind, she reached out a hand. "Watch out!"
It was already too late.
Jo's elbow knocked a ceramic bowl from a display table, and in her mind's eye she saw what would happen next - china shattering, alarms blaring, an unfortunate scuffle with the local law enforcement.
None of that happened however. She caught the bowl on reflex, an inch before it hit the ground, fingers pinched tight around the edge.
"Jo," Bela said after they'd both exhaled in relief. "Let's clear things up, shall we?"
Jo replaced the bowl to its pedestal.
"I know what you are."
"No you don't," Jo said, then shut up. If she'd had any siblings she'd be better at lying, probably, quicker on her feet.
"The way you caught that bowl. Explain that."
"I did karate for a long time-" Jo tried.
Bela put her hands behind her back, pacing for a moment. "I know more than you obviously give me credit for, which I'll admit is flattering. It's something of a testament to my skill that I can pull one over on someone like you."
"I don't know what you-"
She was still cursing herself for giving the game away when Bela flung the knife at her.
Jo ducked on instinct, then wheeled around to see that the dagger was embedded in the wall behind her, just inches from where her head had been a moment before. It stuck there, quivering.
Jo moved quickly, grabbing Bela by the arm and swinging her around and up against the same wall. "That could have killed me! And if that dagger's so valuable, why'd you throw it at my face!"
"You ducked," Bela pointed out. "A dagger flying through the air. Tell me that's something your everyday waitress can do and I'll believe you."
"What is it you think you know about me?"
She watched up close as Bela's mouth curled into a Cheshire cat grin, as she said, "You're a hunter."
"What?" Jo squeaked.
There was a long, dark silence, the only light dull from behind the curtain. She could feel Bela's pulse hot under her hands.
"I'm right, aren't I?" Bela said, and somehow it didn't seem like a threat.
"Are you in the business, then?" Jo asked, letting her question be enough of an admission.
"Do I seem like a hunter to you?"
She didn't, but she was definitely something. By the disdain in Bela's voice, Jo could imagine the cool look she was giving her in the dark.
"Well you're definitely not a civilian," Jo said. "Are you undercover? On the run? An international criminal?"
"I told you, I'm a trader of sorts," Bela told her. But when Jo gave her an unimpressed look, Bela conceded, "I buy and sell magical items for a select clientele."
It was hard to tamp down on the tentative excitement, that Bela was someone who she could be on the level with, that there was finally someone else. It felt the same as when she'd met Dean and Sam Winchester a year ago, when suddenly having friends her age had become a possibility. She lived in a world of dried blood, of guns and midnight graves, and it turned out Bela was a part of that.
"Magic," Jo repeated. The word tasted dusty on her tongue.
Bela inclined her head.
"So you move around a lot?" Jo said.
"I do a lot of international travel, yes. Is this really what you're interested in?"
Jo ignored her. "Dangerous?"
Bela tested Jo's grip, pulling at her hands until Jo's fingers tightened. "People try to blackmail me," Bela confirmed.
"And?"
"And so I blackmail them instead."
"Right."
Jo had no right to judge of course. She hadn't been in the field much herself, true, but she was borderline ruthless. Just last week she'd won five hundred bucks at the pinball machine off a guy she knew had just come back from a failed hunt. She hadn't gone easy on him, either.
"Glamorous," she said.
Bela let out a quiet laugh in the dark. "Hardly. Imagine trying to stay presentable when you've got to buy new straighteners everywhere you go. I always forget my power converter."
Jo laughed. She couldn't imagine.
"Half the time I'm on the run from the authorities," Bela continued, tone mild. Her closeness was intoxicating. "I'm wanted by the Italian police."
If it were anyone else dropping that detail into conversation, Jo would refuse to bite, but coming from Bela it somehow didn't seem like bragging. "Oh, why's that?"
"I was arrested in Rome once and managed to talk my way out of handcuffs. I managed to escape and then hopped on the next train out of the country."
"But couldn't you have just paid the fine? Seeing as you're in the lucrative business of extortion."
Bela shrugged, the warm brush of her shoulder next to Jo's. "It's true, I was offered a pardon for a small fee, but I'm not the type of girl who likes to concede."
"I see." Jo couldn't decide if Bela was a pathological liar, or really was that adventurous, living a life that sounded far-flung and expensive. She imagined Bela in dark sunglasses disappearing into a crowd in an Italian piazza and decided it was probable she'd end up with an inferiority complex. That is, if Jo herself wasn't in the business of saving the world.
"And recently I became acquainted with an adorable pair of hunters. Brothers in fact. They currently want my head."
Bela gasped as Jo crowded her in further against the wall. The fabric of her dress bunched beneath the push of Jo's fingers, too-thin.
"Sam and Dean?"
"Oh, do you know them?" Bela laughed
"I do," Jo said, her grip on Bela's shoulder was hard in case she tried to get away.
"They're alive, if that's what you're worried about."
Jo didn't back off. "What'd you do to them?"
"What did I do? More like what they did. They royally messed up a job I was working. They surrendered a large sum in lottery tickets, which helped take the edge off the financial loss at least. Needless to say, we're not exactly on good terms now, so I wouldn't mention it. Anyway, I left them alone after that." She put her mouth to Jo's ear. "I'm a lover, you see. Not a fighter."
"Let's get out of here," Jo whispered. "But first-"
She dipped in, and Bela went easy, slinging her arms around Jo's neck. She allowed Jo to press her against the shelves and kiss her slow, making a pleased sound when Jo smoothed a hand up her bare thigh, and didn't seem to mind that Jo was wearing yesterday's clothes or that her mouth tasted like tequila.
"There," Jo said, face hot as she pulled back a moment later. She fixed the dress strap where it had slid softly down Bela's shoulder then grabbed the dagger by the hilt to pull it from the wall.
It came free easily, and felt...powerful...in her hand. There was no other way to describe it really.
"You're right, it's time to go," Bela said. She trailed a finger along Jo's arm, and Jo gasped, looking to her once again, at that mouth she'd just touched to hers.
Bela then went to the window. "The stairs are too dangerous, we'll never get out that way. By now they're probably searching for us."
Jo realized belatedly that Bela had taken the dagger from her without her noticing. She was all tricks and sleights of hand, Jo shouldn't trust her.
Bela tossed a rope she had been hiding who knew where out the window and secured it to the radiator in a complicated knot. She tested the rope like she was planning to actually go through with it.
Suddenly, this all seemed like a very bad idea.
Bela had the hint of a smirk on her face when she said, "You coming?"
Jo came closer, noticing how Bela moved the dagger into her dress as Jo came within arm's distance. Jo's heart jumped into her throat when she glanced over the window ledge, down the length of the rope that dangled three storeys, and couldn't see the ground below.
"Yeah," she said, and wondered again how her night had been turned so thoroughly on its head. "Piece of cake."
Bela met her eyes, appraising her. "Heights? That's a new one."
"I am not afraid of heights."
Bela just clambered out the window, gloves on to protect her hands, and slid quietly down the rope, disappearing into the dark. Again Jo had the image of a cat in her mind's eye. A cat burglar.
When she didn't hear a crash below, Jo stepped up to the sill again. The rope was swinging, not taut with weight and she knew Bela had made it safely.
Her turn then. The room was eerily silent and she felt very guilty like this, alone in someone else's house now that she didn't have Bela as an excuse.
She had to escape, and quickly.
Before she could talk herself out of it, she'd wrapped her jacket sleeves around the rope and clambered backward out the window. The air was cold on the back of her neck, her fingers holding deadly tight to the rope, the only thing between her and a deadly drop.
She took one deep breath before falling back into sitting position with her feet planted against the wall in front of her.
She walked steadily down that way, not allowing herself to think about the precarious position she was in, teeth chattering with cold and nerves, making her way down the dark side of the house.
When her feet touched ground an eternity later, her hands were raw but not cut through thanks to her jacket. She landed in an ungainly collapse of weight and got shakily to her knees, instantly looking around for Bela.
Neither Bela nor the dagger were anywhere to be found. Not that Jo was surprised. At least she had a getaway car.
The sound of screeching tires, however, disabused her of that plan. Her hand flew to her pocket for her keys, which were also missing.
"Goddammit, Bela!" she growled, and then took off at a sprint.
Dean picked up on the sixth ring that night and Jo ignored the note of surprise in his voice.The call was long overdue.
"Nice to hear you haven't gotten yourself killed yet," she said by way of hello.
"Nice to hear you've got some faith in my skills," he countered. "So, what's going on?"
Jo thought of the night she'd had, of the lighter fluid she had in her trunk and the iron crowbar she kept in the glove compartment just in case, the road map spread out across the passenger seat with a record of the three hundred miles in her rearview mirror. How Bela had stolen her car only to drop it at the edge of town, and it was lucky Jo had Ash to hack police reports to track it down for her.
"Nothin'," she said. She pulled her beer to her on the scratched bar and leaned in on an elbow. "Well, I just finished a case. And stumbled over another one, maybe."
"Yeah?"
"You don't sound too surprised."
"Heard from your mom you're out on your own."
"She really called you?"
"Hell, I'm sure she called everyone." There was a sound of him taking a long drink. He was in a bar, too, from the sound of it. "Seems like just yesterday she had you on lockdown for the rest of your twenties."
"Yeah, no thanks to someone," Jo said, but softened it with a smile she thought he could hear.
"Case go all right?"
"Yeah, yeah, it was fine. Restless spirit." She hesitated. Then, "Hey, Dean? I hear you've been making a friend of mine very happy." She saw Bela when she briefly closed her eyes.
"Oh really?"
"You sound surprised."
"No, it's not every day I manage to make someone happy. I usually make someone dead, you know?"
"Don't sell yourself short."
"So, what's her name?"
"Wow, don't even remember their names? You do get around, don't you?"
He said, "I've got a lotta mileage, Jo."
"Does Bela Talbot ring any bells? You handed off some Lotto tickets?"
Jo grinned as Dean swore under his breath. He muttering Bela's name, followed by a sound of outrage that was presumably Sam. She traced a pattern in the splintery wood and kept smiling at nothing, listening to the argument that was too faint and muddled to hear. "Still there, Dean?"
"Yeah, Jo. Listen, sorry to ruin sleepovers for you-"
"We do not have sleepovers."
"-but Bela's no good."
Jo thought about the coy slide of dress strap down Bela's shoulder in the moonlight. "I don't know, Dean...she looked good to me."
There was a silence as Dean digested that one.
"Even so," he said finally. "That girl messes with stuff that's bigger than her, without proper protection. It's just, after all we've been through, I don't wanna see you get involved with someone who doesn't have the best of intentions. I think of you like a sister, you know? Hell, Bela's not even her real name." He took an audible breath, like he was steeling himself. "Nearly got Sam killed."
"I'm sorry about that," Jo said, and she was, even though mention of Sam's name always brought to mind a time she'd been tied to a pole in the roadhouse.
"Damn, Jo, I didn't mean to-"
"Water under the bridge," she said quickly. "I'll be careful. Thanks."
"Getting out on your own, it's good for you," he said, his voice all rusty. "But you ever send out an S.O.S., I'll be ready to save your green ass."
"You know what? Screw you, Dean. I'm fine on my own."
"Right back at you."
He laughed, low and personal so that Jo wished there wasn't somewhere else Dean and Sam had to be all the time. She'd always felt this connection with him she suspected went both ways, that bond only hunter brats could share. She thought they could've been good friends if circumstances were different.
He didn't hang up then, and neither did Jo, and when he spoke again, his voice came out low with warning, like he was saying something though he knew she wouldn't listen. "I have a feeling this ain't gonna be the last time I say this, Jo, but I'd steer clear. That girl'll get you just where she wants you and convince you to hand her all the cash in your pocket."
"Yeah, yeah. Call me in a month and I'll tell you all about my broken heart."
"Looking forward to it. Oh, and Sam says 'hi.'"
She hung up on him, her heart lighter. And as for his warnings, Jo didn't think what he said would prove to be a problem. It's not like she knew where to find Bela, not like she had Bela's number. The country was big with little chance of their paths crossing.
Jo had all these big plans, a billion things to do. And if she did run into Bela again in the meantime? Well she could already tell, together they would have the world at their feet, easy. With Bela, it felt like the middle of things. It felt like deep lakes and high bridges. Like possibility.
Love crept in like a thief.
Part 3