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Prologue
Sam shookhis head as he and Dean followed Cas down the hall to his office. Their boss looked like an exploding briefcase again, and this time he’d also loaded the two of them up like pack mules.
“Your Mr. Gunge still isn’t giving up his name,” Cas grumbled. “No prints in the system, can’t find anything that tells us who the son of a bitch is. We’ll get there, though. Either way, at least the bastard is off the streets. He’ll crack eventually. Meanwhile, we’ve gotta get you guys back in that club.” Cas shook his head at their nonexistent arguments. “The fire was enough to close the place up for a while, plus someone conveniently shot Leviathan for us, which gave us an extra week. But we keep them down any longer and we’re gonna have a lawsuit on our hands. How’s Kimberly? She ready for round two?” Cas demanded.
Both Dean and Sam managed to hold their silence, but it wasn’t easy. As much as they all hated it, Kimberly was in this for the long haul. With Leviathan dead and his accomplice in solitary confinement and allowed no outside contact, all their covers were still intact. If they showed up without their brand-new sub right after everything had gone down, it might send the rest of the ring scattering.
Surprisingly, Kimberly was the least reluctant about the situation. She’d spent the last weeks at Sam and Dean’s place, sliding as smoothly into their lives as they slid into her body.
Shawna had moved in not long after Kimberly had and was safely tucked up in one of the guest rooms. Every night, Kimberly would start in bed between Dean and Sam, but before dawn, Shawna’s terrified screams would send Kimberly rushing to her friend’s room. The two would spend the remainder of the night holding each other until sunrise, watching old TV reruns.
Having seen her friend through one horrific memory and flashback after another, Kimberly wasn’t going to rest until the other women were found and brought home too. She was determined to do what she saw as her part, and though admirable, it scared the shit out of them all.
“She’s ready,” Sam told him after Cas stopped barreling forward and paused to look back, concern, not impatience, in his raised brow expression.
“You sure? You don’t sound sure.”
“She’s fine,” Dean admitted reluctantly. “We’re the ones still having trouble with it.”
Cas wrinkled up his face in another of his hound-dog looks and rolled his eyes. “Look, I get that.” He turned and kept walking. They followed. “I don’t like this any more than you and we already went ten rounds over it. So, let’s all agree that the situation sucks and we’re gonna find a way to pull her out as soon as possible and move on from here? Please?” He stopped at his door, turned to face them with his stupid puppy smile. “In fact, I’ve already lined up a new sub for you,” he announced like it was Christmas and opened his door without looking back. “Gentlemen, I’d like you to meet agent Michiko Tanaka, from our San Francisco office.”
A beautiful Asian woman was seated on one corner of Cas’s desk in a white and blue minidress. She wore white, thigh-high, spike-heeled boots and a blonde wig with two high ponytails. They flowed down her body to pool on either side of her slender hips.
Dean just stood there with his mouth hanging open. He was lucky—Sam had just taken a drink and was choking on his coffee.
“Cas?” Dean croaked. “Why is Sailor Moon sitting on your desk?”
“Wha—oh, jeez!” Cas grouched as soon as he spotted the beautiful live-action anime character perched in his space. “Doesn’t anyone use chairs anymore? Come on!”
She looked about as concerned with his outburst as Sam and Dean usually were.
“I would,” Sailor told him dryly with her dainty hands flat on the solid mahogany, “but there don’t appear to be any available.”
Sure enough, Cas opened his mouth to retort, saw she was right and started barking orders. “Well, don’t just stand there. Sam, Dean, make a pile out of those files over there—no, not there. Yeah, okay, and here.” He set down his own armful and swooped the stack off his chair, then crammed the bundle into its own pile under his window. Finally, looking as though he’d just completed spring cleaning, Cas cleared the remaining chair into an existing heap by the door. He almost looked crestfallen at the lack of applause. “Now, can we all act like civilized agents of the FBI and take a seat…in chairs?”
Nobody sat. Sam and Dean were back to staring at Michiko.
“If either of you gets your dick anywhere near me,” Michiko told them with a dead serious glare on her beautiful face, “I’m biting it off.”
Chapter One
“Uh, Cas?”Dean said, his voice ringing with the same confusion Sam felt. “You wanna tell us what's going on here?”
“If you think Kimberly is going to stand for this,” Sam told Cas, his eyebrows climbing his forehead, “you're crazy. Kimberly is going to kill this woman.”
Their boss waved that away with an unconcerned frown. “This is work. Kimberly will understand.”
“Kimberly will rip off this woman's arms and use the bloody limbs to murder the three of us for even talking about this.” Dean leaned over the desk and thumped it hard for emphasis.
“He's not wrong,” Sam said and tucked his hands in his armpits just in case Kimberly walked in. Not that she ever had or would, but he wanted his hands accounted for. Just in case.
Cas looked dumbfounded. “You wanted Kimberly out.” He pointed at the beautiful Asian woman as if he weren't sure the men could see her. “This is how we get Kimberly out. Michiko will replace her as your new submissive.”
“How is that not going to look suspicious as hell?” Dean asked. Sam couldn't blame him for his frustrated tone; he was just as confused.
“Look,” Cas said, running a weary hand over his equally weary face. “Before Kimberly came on the scene, you two were getting nowhere. Now that we know the key through this sick door is with a submissive, we can come up with a plan to safely extricate thecivilian”—big emphasis on the wordcivilian, and he also made sure to give each of them significant eye contact—“and replace her with atrainedagent.”
“Okay, let's put aside the part where Kimberly is going to murder us all in our sleep for even discussing this.” Sam braced an elbow on Cas’s desk and sliced a hand through the air. “And let's talk about the fact that this plan will never fly. How do you think it's going to look if we show up fresh after the fire with a brand-new sub? It just doesn't make any sense. You're smarter than this. Those guys may be ignorant assholes, but they're not stupid. There is a difference. They’ll see right through this if we try to swap out our sub right after one of their men goes missing and another turns up dead.”
