I heard the door before I saw her — that familiar click of boots on concrete echoing through the bunker halls. My gut clenched.

No. Hell no.

I stormed into the war room, jaw tight, and sure as hell, there she was, leaning over the map table like she belonged there.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” I snapped, eyes darting to Sam. “You invited her?”

Sam lifted his hands. “We need the help, Dean.”

I let out a sharp laugh, dragging a hand through my hair. “Oh, that’s rich. You remember the last time she ‘helped’? Nearly got us both eaten!”

She straightened, arms crossed, that smug little smirk tugging at her lips — like she was enjoying this. “Miss me, Winchester?”

My fists clenched at my sides. “Like a root canal.”

She sauntered closer, close enough I could smell her perfume — same as always, sharp and distracting. “Relax, Dean. I’m not here for you.”

I took a step back, heart pounding harder than I’d ever admit. “Good. Keep it that way.”

But as she passed me, shoulder brushing mine, I knew — this was gonna be a damn long hunt.