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Bela ties the ribbon around her wrist like a corsage. The black satin and blood red roses woven into the flaxen threads could have been a provocative accessory for any night other than tonight. Tonight Bela Talbot would be indebted to Sam and Dean Winchester. The back of her throat stung with bile from the begrudging favor. She prefers people owing her favors, not the other way around.
The upper crust dinner that Dean would take her to was a last ditch effort to settle her debt to the demon Crowley, but Sam and Dean didn’t need to know that. All they had to worry their pretty little heads about was Bela Talbot was scared and that scared them more than they would admit.
Her green eyes had welled with tears as she pleaded with Sam–first. Then worked him over to “her side” to rope Dean into the job. The younger Winchester being the softer hand at damsels in distress. Those puppy dog eyes were so wide, you’d think he was the one begging for help.
She holds the bow up and turns it front to back to admire the passing beauty of it on her slim wrist.
“Pity it will be bloody before the night’s done,” she sighs wistfully and checks her clutch for the bejeweled clip knife she’ll need to finish the deed tonight.
And the Winchesters will be none the wiser.