11

                                    

                                          
To Ashes
Jesse couldn't remember the last time a night had felt so long. From the moment the sun went down it had been one problem after another, and the closer it came to sunrise, the more he felt the need to go hole up somewhere cool, quiet, and dark to sleep the day away. At least his hotel was only two streets down from the mortuary where he found himself at the end of that long night, and there would just be a few minutes' walk when he was finally finished with his ordeal. Seconds, if he ran. He had already checked in and gotten cleaned up, buying a change of clothes from the lobby gift shop, but there had been little time for rest. Now, he longed for the fresh sheets and blackout curtains that awaited him.
Beside him stood Louis, arms folded, his stern face set in an expression of open worry as he gnawed at his fingernail. They both stood on the safe side of the viewing window, looking in on the cremation chamber as all of the evidence of the evening's activities burned away: Jesse's clothes, Evaine's book bag and the shirt she had been wearing with the movie characters on the front, bags full of soiled cleaning supplies, and the body of Jensen Calloway. When the blaze had run its course, there would be nothing left but ash.
"You can say it, Louis," Jesse said when he felt he had given his friend enough time to digest his retelling of the night's events. Normally, unburdening himself of a hard truth would have made him feel better, but hearing it out loud had only solidified the sense of impending disaster tugging at the back of his mind. "This is a mess. I am royally screwed."
"This is a mess," Louis repeated, his voice tight with restraint. He had so far refrained from commenting on Jesse's story, but concern had deepened his frown with every word that passed his lips. "You are royally screwed. Jesse, you know what you have to do. Luther could make all of this go away, keep you safe from the fallout, or even turn her into the hunters yourself! I'm sure they'd be far more interested in—"
"I can't do that," Jesse cut him off, shaking his head to reject the idea even as he inwardly longed to agree for the sake of being rid of this. He looked down at his hands, the undersides still lined with bits of blood and dirt where he had failed to scrape it away. "It wouldn't be right. She was passed out through the worst of it, and maybe it's a mercy that she doesn't remember. She has no clue what really happened, or what she's gotten herself into. She can't take the kind of heat that's about to rain down on us, but I can."
"That's mighty noble of you, sir. It's going to get you killed." Louis sighed wearily, rubbing his hands over his face as he turned away from the cremation chamber to fully face his friend. "If you want my advice—and trust me, you need it—your first move here is to find Maggie. Jensen being here can only mean that she's forfeited your contract. If she's nearby, you need to know where she is, because once she finds out what happened she'll either come after you herself or call her mother." He forcefully jabbed one finger against Jesse's chest. "Do not let her call her mother."
The two of them shared a troubled look at the mention of the Jameson family matriarch. She hadn't been on the hunt for nearly fifteen years, seeming happy to settle into retirement, but if she were to be called into action, they both knew she would bring a culling like he'd only heard of in whispered rumor.
"You're right," Jesse agreed, feeling himself darken at the prospect of another confrontation with Maggie Jameson. He almost didn't survive the last one, even if he did give as good as he got, and she certainly wasn't the forgiving type. "Any suggestions as to where I should start? Or should I just knock on every door from here to Jameson Ranch?"
"One door would suffice." Louis placed a hand on Jesse's shoulder, conveying all his sympathy and understanding so that when he spoke again, Jesse understood that it was meant kindly. "Go see your brother."
"I was afraid you were going to say that," Jesse grumbled. He gave one last look at the cremation chamber, satisfied that the process was mostly complete, and turned to leave the room. He walked slowly, and Louis kept pace with his unhurried strides.
"I don't know what kind of bad blood you think there is between you, but Luther at least misses his brother," Louis informed him. "He still calls to ask about you, how you're doing, or if you need anything. No matter how you want to play this, if you go to him he'll be glad to help, I know it."
"I know he would, but his definition of 'help' is far different from mine," Jesse said to explain his reluctance. "Luther is always going to do what suits Luther best. No matter what front he puts up about caring for me, whatever help he offers is going to be done his way, and that usually means I'll be worse off in the end."
"What could be worse than this?" Louis asked, motioning back toward the cremation chamber, toward the ashes of the dead hunter. 
"I'm sure he'll think of something," Jesse said, his voice going quiet and grim as a hundred possibilities crossed his mind—none of them good. "I'll go see him, but if I don't like what he has to offer, I'll handle this myself."
"If you say so, I guess that's the best I could hope for," Louis said with a mostly unsatisfied sigh. "His information is already in your new phone; I figured you might be needing it sooner or later."
"Thank you, Louis," Jesse said, trying to sound sincere despite the foul mood that resulted from talking about his brother. 
The two of them stopped walking at the main entrance of the mortuary, and Jesse warily looked out the windows at the quickly brightening blue of the dawn sky. He would just barely make it to his hotel room before the sun was over the horizon, but even through the door, he could already feel its effects making him weak and tired...and hungry.
"Luther will have to wait until next sunset," Jesse noted, appreciative for the brief delay of the dreaded reunion. Would that he could put it off another ten years, if not forever.
"Call me as soon as you know anything," Louis said, sounding preemptively tired of what trouble would surely follow as he reached out to shake Jesse's hand in farewell. "I don't care for all this suspense, and I certainly don't like the idea of another hunter in town with nobody keeping an eye on her. This is gonna be hell on my nerves."
"In that case, we'll plan to meet up once it's done. I, for one, could use a drink."
"Now that's a plan."