mizpah1931: Latin Exorcism - don't leave home without it (Default)

Title: Blood Trail
Season: 1 to 3
Category: General, Action, One-Shots
Warnings: Spoilers for Season 3 up to episode 6 Red Sky At Morning
Tagline: SN.TV Creature Challenge fanfic submission2008
Total Word Count: 6100
Total Chapters: 1
Beta: [personal profile] ziggyuk and Windyfontaine
Story Banner: Chasidern

This was the one and only time I went in for a challenge on either of the fanfic sites I was a member of. I submitted my entry, then didn’t tell anyone I’d done it apart from my beta and auntie, so my readers didn’t know it was there....*sigh*....anyway, poor old Blood Trail is still one of my favourites, even if it is a bit of a forgotten fic.

Thanks goes to my two beta-readers for this one – the always inspiring Windyfontaine from SN.TV, and my SPN sis Ziggy. And of course, my pretty banner is by aunt Christine, aka Chasidern, as usual.

And yeah, nah – still not making a profit out of any of this. Just doing it for the sheer love of playing with the Winchesters.


Salvation, Iowa.

She waited in the shadows, her eyes on the door of the seedy motel. She had seen the older male leave, and for a moment burning rage had blurred her vision, clouding her mind. Her slight frame trembled as she dug her fingernails into the painted boards of the wall beside her, leaving crescent-shaped indentations in the aged wood. Sanity had prevailed at the last minute and she had watched from the darkness, her lips twisted into a hate-filled snarl as the taillights of the midnight black truck disappeared around the corner.

Turning her intense gaze back to the motel room door, she settled down to wait, knowing there were still two more inside the room. And she could be patient – she would be patient. The prize would be hers. Revenge would sate her raging hunger. And they would know in the end, before death took them – she would make sure they knew - that it was her doing. They would not escape.

Settling back on her heels, she kept her dark gaze on the door. Vague shadows shifted within, moving back and forth behind the drawn curtains. Her nostrils flared as she drank in the faint scent of their presence. She felt a stirring in her gut, and flicked her tongue against her lips. The need to satiate the gnawing hunger was palpable – almost a physical pain. Getting slowly to her feet, she scanned the street carefully before stepping from the darkened alley.

Before she could take more than two steps toward the motel room, the door opened, and she melted back into the shadows as she watched the two tall figures head for the black car parked outside the room. Her breath hissed between her teeth and she crouched against the wall of the alley, watching as the car drove away. Their combined scent was strong on the cool night air and she raised her head, breathing in its heady aroma.

Moving swiftly, she made her way back to her waiting car and threw herself behind the wheel. Scenting the air like a bloodhound, she steered the vehicle through the almost deserted streets. A train whistle hooted in the near distance, and she smiled grimly as she spotted the gleaming black car parked on the street in the deep shadows of an overhanging tree.

Parking the car in a nearby street, she filled her lungs with the scent of her prey and moved toward the unsuspecting men. Keeping to the deeper shadows, she edged closer until she could hear the deep cadence of their voices. Feeling a surge of adrenaline, she wrapped her arms around her torso, shaking with bloodlust. She bared her teeth, her lips curling back as a set of razor sharp fangs emerged from her gums.

A sudden breeze skittered the dead leaves on the sidewalk, swirling them into a mad dance. Tree limbs swayed and the lights in the two-storey house across the street began to blink erratically. She crouched low, hissing in fear, a chill rippling down her spine as she sensed the presence of pure evil.

The woman slunk back to her car, glancing constantly over her shoulder, her eyes wide with terror. She wanted to be long gone before the demon detected her presence. Obviously the two in the car were hunting the demon, unless it was actually baiting a trap in its hunt for them. Either way, her hunt could wait. She would find her prey again – if there was anything left to find after the demon got through with them. Throwing herself behind the wheel of her car, she jammed the key in the ignition and peeled away from the kerb. “I’ll find you again,” she vowed as she sped along the dark, deserted roads toward the outskirts of town.

*     *     *     *     *

Red Lodge, Montana

She waited in the bushes; her hungry gaze on the black Chevy that had just pulled into the motel parking lot. A surge of adrenaline shook her petite frame as the tall figure emerged from the driver’s seat and headed to room number four. She licked her lips, savouring the fresh, rich scent of the blood pumping through his veins. Her hands crooked into talons as she watched the door close, and she drew in a deep calming breath, waiting for her prey to settle in before making her move.

Reports of cattle mutilations had brought her to this place and it hadn’t taken her long to find out the location of the nest of vampires. She had kept her distance, not wanting to alert them to her presence. The motels had also been kept under surveillance. She knew that hunters would come in response to the reports, and she hoped that the pair she hunted would make their appearance.

She had lost the trail of her prey after Iowa and the encounter with the demon. She thought she’d had them a few weeks ago – she had come upon their fresh scent in South Dakota and had trailed them to a deserted stretch of road miles from anywhere. Coming across what looked like the remains of a funeral pyre, she had breathed in the fading scent of the oldest male as she scuffed through the thick pile of ashes with her boot toe. The younger ones had been there too, but had moved on again, their combined scent flavoured heavily with grief and anger.

The woman had hit the road again, trying to follow a trail that rapidly grew cold and finally petered out. Her desperate search had led her half way across the country, following up lead after lead only to have them turn into dead ends. A few times she had followed a promising lead only to find her quarry long gone by the time she got to the town. This was the first time she had tried to anticipate their next move instead of trailing in their wake.

Her gamble had paid off. They were here – one of them within striking distance. Willing herself to be patient, she settled deeper amongst the bushes at the edge of the parking lot, her eyes fixed on the brass 4 on the white painted door.

A movement from the far side of the parking lot drew her gaze away from the door, and she sank further behind the thick screen of bushes. Two dark shadows glided along the motel wall, keeping away from the lights, and she hissed softly, recognising their scent. The shadows froze as the door to room number four opened, and the young hunter emerged. Seemingly oblivious to the three sets of hostile eyes watching his every move, he strolled to the vending machine a few doors down and fed some coins into the slot.

The waiting woman narrowed her eyes as she saw the shadows move swiftly toward the empty room. She didn’t know why she suddenly felt the urge to help them – it just seemed the right thing to do. Shifting her weight on her heels, she deliberately scraped against the bush that concealed her from the tall hunter. She sneered, her upper lip curling away from a partly protruding fang as she saw him stiffen and glance warily in her direction. The shadowy figures slipped noiselessly inside room number four, closing the door behind them.

Waiting until her prey had turned to walk back toward his room, she moved again, stepping on a dry twig on the ground. It snapped and the hunter froze, his big hands cupping the can of soda as he listened to the night noises. Feigning nonchalance, he cracked open the can and took a sip, letting his gaze wander across the parking lot.

She moved again, stepping on another twig. This time the hunter moved, heading back to his room and what he perceived was safety. Her fingers curled into fists, her long nails digging painfully into her palms as the door closed behind his broad back. A faint, brief scuffle came to her ears and she waited in the dark, her limbs quivering with pent-up emotion. After all she had gone through, after all the effort of tracking down her prey, she couldn’t quite believe that she had just willingly given up one of them to the local nest.

But there was still the other one – the cocky one. She could still get her revenge on him. Smiling to herself, she watched as the door opened and the two vampires struggled down the steps with their prize suspended limply between them. Dumping his lanky frame into the back seat of a truck, they jumped in and drove off, leaving her alone in the darkness. But she was used to that – used to being alone. Rage fuelled her, hate consumed her, and the only thing she cared about was vengeance. She would wait for the other one.

Over an hour passed before a car pulled into the parking lot, and her nostrils quivered at the familiar scent. But then another, stronger scent came to her nose and she bared her teeth, her fangs protruding as she peered through the bushes to watch the tall dark man step from the vehicle. “Walker!” she mouthed, hatred welling up inside her. Walker had found them a few weeks after they had left Manning, and had murdered her nest-sister. She had barely escaped alive and had fled the state, desperate to put some miles between herself and the psychotic vampire hunter. If her prey had teamed up with Walker, she was in serious trouble.

Almost as if he sensed he was being watched, the dark man turned his head, his cold gaze sweeping across the darkened parking lot. She shivered, keeping perfectly still until he resumed his walk toward the motel room in the wake of her prey. Swallowing nervously, she waited until the door closed behind the two hunters, and backed away, heading for her car. There would be another time. She would pick up their trail again, after they and Gordon Walker went their separate ways.

*     *     *     *     *

Peoria, Illinois

The motel room was quiet, the black Chevy gone from the parking lot, but she wasn’t worried. They should not have gone far. She had risked the rising sun that morning to check on her prey, and had grinned as she watched the older one saunter toward the room with two take out coffees in his hand. Tilting her head back, she had kept to the shadows at the side of the building as she’d breathed in his heady scent, savouring the taste of it. She had almost risked an attack right at that moment but the stinging bite of the sunlight held her back. Slinking quickly back to her car, she had driven a short way out of town, finding an abandoned farmhouse to hole up in until soothing night fell again.

Waiting in the deep shadows beside the motel office, she watched the door and the parking lot, her fingers clasping and unclasping in anticipation of the rich feed she would have. She would bleed the younger one first while the older one watched, and then she would have her fun with the older one. Maybe indulge herself a little before she killed him – it had been a long time…

Snapping out of her musings, she checked her watch, hissing in annoyance as she saw that it was past ten pm. A cold chill ghosted down her spine, curling around to settle in the pit of her stomach. As if pulled up on strings, she shot jerkily to her feet and crept toward the room, her nostrils flaring as she tested the air. The scent of her prey was fading, and the pit in her stomach grew as she picked the lock and flung open the door.

The room was empty and she snarled, reaching for the pillow from the nearest bed and holding it against her face. She inhaled, filling her lungs with the faint smell of the older Winchester, her senses detecting it even through the sharp scent of the motel laundry detergent on the fresh pillowcase. She threw the pillow to the floor, fisted her hands by her sides, and screamed in rage. Her prey had gone.

Footsteps pounded along the pavement and she spun on her heel as the night manager burst through the open door.

“What the hell? How did you get in here?”

“Where are they? Where did they go?”

The man blinked rapidly and shook his head in confusion. “What? Who?”

“The two men who were here. One’s got a smart mouth, and the other’s really tall. Where did they go?”

“How the hell should I know? They left some time this morning.” He stared at the strange woman, an icy finger of fear running the length of his spine as she opened her mouth, baring a set of sharp, pointed fangs. “What – what the hell…”

In two strides she was pressed against his chest, pinning his arms to his sides as she bit deep into his quivering neck. Ignoring his terrified shriek, she forced him to his knees as she drank the precious fluid gushing from his jugular. He struggled futilely, his cries growing fainter as the blood loss began to weaken him. Finally he toppled to the floor, and her fangs were ripped from his flesh.

She sat back, licking her bloodied lips. Her hunger sated for the time being, she left the man bleeding on the floor and stalked away into the night.

*     *     *     *     *

Twin Lakes, Wisconsin

He ambled along the darkened street in the direction of the multi storey motel, his hands shoved deep into his jeans pockets, his shaggy hair ruffling in the fresh breeze. Not bothering to watch his back trail, he kept his gaze on the sidewalk in front of his booted feet, seemingly unaware of the dark figure that followed noiselessly in his wake. He turned down the alley leading past a row of garages, his tall broad-shouldered form becoming lost in the deep shadows.

Licking her lips in anticipation, the woman filled her flaring nostrils with his scent. She couldn’t believe her luck in finding him, and her heart soared as she realised he was alone – the older brother wasn’t anywhere to be found. Her fangs quivered in her gums and her stomach roiled, the hunger burning deep inside as she salivated. She could already taste his hot, coppery blood, imagining it gliding over her tongue and down her throat, sating the overwhelming need to feed. Drawing his scent deep into her lungs, she prepared to spring.

Hearing the soft patter of footsteps behind him, he spun on his heel, flinging up a hand as if to ward off his attacker. The approaching woman slammed to a halt as an unseen hand gripping her by the throat, and a cruel smile curled the tall hunter’s sensuous lips.

“What do you want here, bitch?”

She gasped, fear rising in her gut as his ebony eyes glittered in the dim light. “You’re a de…” The words were choked off as the demonic grip tightened, cutting off her air.

“Demon – wow, I’m impressed. You’re smart, for a vampire. But not smart enough.” He sauntered forward, leaning down to leer into her pale face. He tapped his chest with one long forefinger. “You want a piece of this meat suit? Well, that’s just too bad ‘cause he’s mine, and he’s gonna stay mine until I finish having my fun. Go find someone else to chow down on, you blood-sucking skank. The Winchesters are off-limits.”

He waved a hand and she found herself flying through the air. Her flight came to an abrupt halt as she smashed into the nearby wall, rebounding from it to sprawl across the cold ground. Groaning, she tried to crawl away, only to be picked up again and thrown halfway down the alley to crash into a lamppost with enough force to break three ribs. The demonic grip wrapped around her left ankle and tugged sharply, dragging her facedown for a few feet before picking her up and smashing her into the wall once more.

Blackness curled across her vision, and through the roaring in her ears she heard a deep, sarcastic chuckle. She slumped to the ground, letting the blackness take her away from the pain.

*     *     *     *     *

Cicero, Indiana

The half-completed house was shrouded in darkness and smelled of burned cornstalks. But underneath the burned smell she could detect another scent – one that had her heart pounding. They had been here. Moving on silent feet, she stepped past the blackened pile of ash on the floor and strode across to the opposite wall, breathing deeply. Yes, they had both been here. Reaching out, she caressed the broken timbers of a wall frame, picking up the scent of the younger one. She stepped to one side, and the aroma of the older one drifted past her flaring nostrils.

“Sweet – so very sweet.” Inhaling their scents, she wandered through the house, down into the basement and back up the stairs, almost drunk with delight. They had moved on, but they had been here, and not too long ago. She was finally getting close again.

Limping a little, she surveyed the pile of ash as she turned to leave. “Looks like you did worse than me, huh?” She rubbed ruefully at her hip. “Although, in my defence, he was possessed by a damned demon. Next time he won’t be so lucky.”

She had spent over a month recovering from her injuries after the run-in with the demon-possessed Winchester in Wisconsin. And it had taken weeks to pick up their trail again once she was able to get back on the road. The trail had taken her through Cold Oak, South Dakota, and she had spent two days in the haunted town, tracing the confused blood trail of both brothers. She had stayed in the same house that they had occupied; sleeping on the mattress stained with the younger one’s blood. Lulled to sleep by his rich scent, she had dreamed of the brothers bleeding on the ground at her feet.

Sliding behind the wheel of her car, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the seat. She would need to feed very soon, before continuing her hunt. Heading for the nearest bar, she waited in the shadows for a suitable meal. A tall young man staggered out just before closing time, his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his jacket, his shaggy hair ruffling in the breeze.

She smiled – he would do nicely. Climbing from her car, she sauntered over to where he stood swaying slightly as he fumbled for his keys. “Hey there, handsome.”

He turned, a lock of light brown hair falling across his blue eyes, and smiled sloppily. “Hey there, y’self, little lady.”

“Here, let me help you.” Flinging her dark hair over her shoulders, she slipped an arm around his waist and steered him toward the alley at the side of the bar. “Just come on down here, handsome. I’ve got something to show you.”

The man grinned and quickened his pace, stumbling a little as they reached the dark shadows just inside the mouth of the alley. “Now what is it you want me t’ see?”

She turned to face him, bared her fangs and leapt.

*     *     *     *     *

Truck stop, somewhere in New Jersey

The black Chevy pulled off the road and the small dark sedan followed, its driver finding a vacant spot at the other end of the parking lot. She switched off the engine, her gaze on the occupants of the Impala. They seemed to be arguing – she could see the younger one’s lips moving as the older one shook his head. Finally the older one flung up a hand and barked a sharp retort as he slid from the vehicle. The driver’s side door slammed, and the tall hunter flipped up the collar of his thick blue jacket before striding to the door of the dining area, anger coming off him in waves. The younger man crossed his arms over his chest and slumped in the seat, his teeth clenched. From where she sat, the watching woman could see a muscle jumping in the man’s tanned cheek.

She had picked up their scent back at the marina on the coast, trailing it to an empty house where she’d found signs of recent occupation. The blood trail had been so fresh that her senses tingled, her mouth watering at the thought of finally sinking her fangs into her prey. It had been a long hunt, and she laughed silently to herself at the thought that she herself had become a hunter after all this time.

A door creaked, snapping her out of her musings, and she smiled as she saw the tall young hunter step out of the Chevy. He closed the door, glared at the entrance to the dining room, and shoved his hands into his jacket pockets as he headed for the restrooms at the side of the building. Licking her lips in anticipation, she waited until he was out of sight before following, her stomach fluttering as she drank in every molecule of his scent.

*     *     *     *     *

Sam washed his hands and splashed a little water on his face before snatching a paper towel from the dispenser on the wall. He patted his hands dry and leaned against the sink, staring at his reflection in the dirty mirror. Troubled hazel eyes ringed by dark shadows stared back at him and he shook his head, wondering how much longer he could keep going before he snapped completely. The argument between him and his brother over the deal hadn’t abated. In fact, after Dean had said he would try his hand at craps at the casino in Atlantic City, Sam’s temper had reached boiling point and they had almost come to blows.

Dean had decided he needed coffee and pie, so they had pulled into the truck stop, giving both of them a little time to get away from each other and cool off. Sam ran his hands through his hair and sighed, feeling the tension in his gut twist into a tight, hard knot. He needed to find a way to get Dean out of his deal, but more than that, he needed his brother to give a damn about what was happening. Hell, he just needed his brother, he thought desperately. Sam’s hands began to shake at the thought of losing his only family.

Pushing himself away from the grimy sink, he tugged the door open and stepped out into the chilly night air, stiffening his shoulders as he turned to head back to the car and his stubborn ass of a brother. His thoughts filled with their argument, he failed to detect the dark presence lurking outside the door. A faint swish came to his ears just before a sharp blow to his temple sent him staggering into the side of the building. Sam slid down the wall, stars flashing before his eyes.

“I’m a big boy now – I can take care of myself.” His own words came back to mock him as the unseen attacker hit him across the back of the neck. Yeah, right, Sam thought bitterly, as unconsciousness crashed over him in a suffocating wave.

*     *     *     *    *

Dean stepped from the dining room, glancing around out of habit as he strode back to the Impala. He took a deep breath, pulling his shoulders back as he braced himself for the next round of his inevitable argument with his stubborn ass of a brother. Dean’s gaze flicked to the passenger side of the Chevy as he reached for the door, and he frowned as he saw that the car was empty. Quickly putting the two foam containers of coffee down on the hood, he searched the ground beside the passenger door, breathing a sigh of relief when he found no sign of a struggle.

“Probably just went to the bathroom,” he mused quietly. “Thanks for letting me know, jackass.” Dean shook his head in annoyance, grabbed the coffee and settled behind the wheel. He flicked the radio on, and searched the airwaves for a decent station while he waited for his moody brother to get his lanky ass back to the car.

Five minutes later Dean heaved out a sigh, and got out of the car. He strode around the side of the building and hammered on the door to the men’s room. “Sam, zip it up – let’s go already.”

There was no answer from the other side of the door, and Dean pounded on the weathered wood once more. “Sam! Answer me, or I’m comin’ in there!” He waited for a tense moment, and then pushed the door open.

The room was empty, and Dean cursed, slamming his fist against the wall by the paper towel dispenser. He stepped outside, looking around for some sign of his sibling. A faint gleam caught his attention and he hesitated, his eyes narrowing as he stepped out of the circle of light above the door. Bending down, he picked up a silver .45 from the dusty ground, recognising it as his brother’s.

Dean swallowed convulsively, his gaze sweeping the surrounding area, and then he sprinted back to the Impala. Pulling a flashlight from the trunk, he returned to the side of the building and directed the bright beam of the flashlight across the ground between the men’s room door and the spot where he had picked up Sam’s pistol. His full lips twisted into an angry snarl as he saw the telltale marks of a body being dragged. Dean figured Sam’s .45 must have fallen from his waistband as he was dragged away. The marks led toward the nearby trees, and Dean felt the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. “Son of a bitch!”

Sprinting back to the Impala’s trunk and the weapons stash, he pulled out the Colt and shoved it into his jacket pocket. If it had been a simple mugging, then Sam should have been able to either talk his way out of it, or beat the crap out of the guy. If by some chance the mugger had gotten the better of his brother, he should have found Sam behind the building, or not far from the men’s room. A mugger wouldn’t have wasted time dragging his Sasquatch of a brother into the woods. That pointed to something supernatural at work. And since Dean didn’t have a clue what he was dealing with, he figured a bullet from the Colt would be enough to stop pretty much everything except a ghost.

Pulling a salt-filled shotgun from the weapons bag just in case, Dean hid the sawn-off under his jacket, patted his waistband to check the comforting bulge of his own .45, and headed swiftly for the tree line.

*     *     *    *     *

Consciousness returned slowly, along with an awareness of pain. Sam opened his eyes, squinting in the darkness as he tried to make out where he was and what had happened. His arms were wrenched behind his back, and he pulled experimentally at his bonds, feeling the burn of a rough rope around his wrists. As he tried to move his arms, Sam felt a pull against his ankles, and realised with a sinking heart that his hands and feet were fastened together, making it impossible to run. Hearing a soft footfall he tensed, pulling at the ropes as he turned his head to see who – or what – had captured him.

“So, you’re awake.”

Looking up, the young hunter saw a dark figure stooping over him. He gritted his teeth as a booted foot impacted sharply against his ribs.

“Nothing to say, Winchester?”

Great, Sam thought to himself. Nice to be recognised. “Bite me.”

The woman grinned and bent swiftly, grasping Sam by the shoulders and hauling him to his knees. “I’d be careful what you wished for, hunter.”

Sam stared at the woman as she opened her mouth and bared her gleaming fangs. Oh, crap – I am so screwed. He tried to shuffle backward but she dropped to her knees beside him, wrapping one hand around the back of his head and fisting the other hand in his shirt. He realised belatedly that his jacket had been stripped off. The thin sweater he wore had no collar, giving the vampire a clear shot at his neck.

“You led me quite a chase, Winchester – you and your brother. But I knew that I’d catch up with you sooner or later.” The woman gave a small, humourless laugh. “Just didn’t bank on it being quite so late.”

“Don’t do this,” Sam gasped. “You don’t have to give in to the bloodlust. You can fight it.”

The vampire leaned back on her heels and studied him in curiosity. “What?”

“I’ve met another nest of your kind. They don’t take human blood any more. They found – other ways to live.”

“And I bet you slaughtered them just like you slaughtered my nest.”

Sam tried to shake his head but the woman’s fingers gripped his hair, pulling his head back. “No – no. We didn’t, I swear. We helped them get away from another hunter.”


“No, it’s true. The head vampire – her name was Lenore. We met up with them in Red Lodge, Montana.”

*     *     *     *     *

Dean froze as he heard his brother’s voice. He halted, trying to pinpoint the direction, and grimaced as he heard the woman reply. He picked up his pace as Sam spoke again. His brother’s voice had that staccato, slightly breathless tone that told Dean that Sam was in deep crap. Coming to a small clearing, he hefted the Colt and prepared to step from the deeper shadows of the trees.

*     *     *    *    *

“Don’t do this.”

“Not negotiable.”

“You can fight it.”

“I don’t want to. This is justice. It’s just a pity that I didn’t have your brother here as well, so he could watch while I bleed you dry. Just like I had to watch when your family murdered my nest brothers. I want him to feel as alone as I do. I want him to hurt before I bleed him.”

The vampire twisted her fingers in Sam’s soft wavy locks, and leaned close to his ear, her tongue flicking between her teeth. “Sweet – so sweet,” she murmured, dropping her head so that her lips grazed the side of his neck. She could feel the enticing throb of his jugular vein, and taste the salty tang of sweat on his tanned skin. Swiftly she struck, wrenching his head back and to the side as she sank her fangs into the pulsing vein, drinking deeply of the rich blood that gushed forth.

Sam couldn’t hold back a cry of pain as he felt the sharp teeth pierce his flesh. He struggled futilely, feeling the warm rush of his own blood flowing down his neck as the vampire’s fangs drove deeper. A wave of nausea and revulsion flowed over him, and he blinked rapidly as his vision blurred. Sam pulled savagely at the ropes, feeling them tighten cruelly around his wrists, cutting off his circulation.


The vampire released the bound hunter and snapped her head around, blood dripping from her fangs as she hissed in rage at the elder brother standing just inside the clearing, a gun aimed at her head.

“Sam, drop!” Dean pulled the trigger on the Colt, feeling it buck in his palm as the hammer swung forward and struck the end of the bullet, igniting the propellant charge. As his brother threw himself to the ground, the vampire’s head slammed back with the force of the shot, blood trickling from the neat hole between her eyes. White light flashed like a miniature lightning storm, and the woman shuddered before collapsing bonelessly to the ground. Dean breathed a sigh of relief and drew out his knife as he raced to his sibling’s side. “Sammy!”

“I’m all right,” Sam murmured groggily, feeling pins and needles in his hands as the ropes parted under the razor sharp blade. He waited for Dean to cut the ropes around his ankles and slowly sat up, rubbing at his wrists as he gazed at the dead woman lying a few feet away.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” Sam put a hand to his neck and winced. “She just bit me.”

Dean examined his brother’s wound and then pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, pressing it against Sam’s neck to stop the bleeding. “Think it might need a stitch or two, dude. Can you stand up?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Accepting his brother’s help, the young hunter clambered to his feet, and swayed a little as his head swam. He felt his arm being dragged across his brother’s shoulders, and nodded gratefully.

Glancing down at the girl, Dean frowned, cocking his head to the side. “Do we know this bitch?”

“Yeah, we do. Remember Manning, Colorado? That vampire nest where we got the Colt?”

“Son of a bitch.” Dean looked at the gun for a long moment before thrusting it into his waistband. His gaze returned to the dead vampire. “Kate?”

“No.” Sam’s chest heaved as he drew in a ragged breath. “Jenny.”

Something in his brother’s tone made Dean glance his way. Sam was looking down at the corpse, sadness in his hazel eyes. “Who’s Jenny?”

“The girl they turned. The 911 caller.”

Dean knew instantly what his brother was thinking – the girl he thought he was rescuing. But it had been too late – she had already been turned. “She followed us all this time? That was almost a year ago.”

“I guess. Remember what Dad said – once vampires get your scent, they have it for life.”

The elder hunter shook his head as he steered his brother away from the dead girl. “Man, that’s taking OCD to a whole new level. Come on, let’s get you back to the car and get the hell out of here before someone decides to check out that gunshot.”

Sam remained quiet on the way back to the car. He settled onto the passenger seat with a relieved sigh, and stared out through the windshield as Dean got behind the wheel.

Dean glanced over at his brother; worry drawing his brows into a frown. “You okay?”

The young hunter gave a slight nod, flinching as the movement pulled at the wound in his neck. He shrugged one broad shoulder as he glanced at his brother. “Well, guess I learned one thing tonight.”

“What’s that?”

“Don’t say ‘bite me’ to a girl with half-inch fangs.”

Dean chuckled and pulled away from the truck stop, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel as he searched for a motel. Finally he located one with the vacancy sign lit, and swung the Chevy into the parking lot. “Stay here – I’ll go get us a room.”

He was back in a few minutes, and steered the Impala to a vacant spot a few doors down from the office. Tossing Sam the room key, Dean headed to the trunk for the bags and the first aid kit while his brother checked the number on the key tag and unlocked the door.

Sam flicked on the light and sighed again as he sank down onto the bed farthest from the door. He kept his gaze on the floor between his booted feet as the door closed behind his sibling.

“Sammy? What is it?” Dean frowned as he grabbed the first aid kit and settled onto the bed beside his brother.

“Dean – man, I’m sorry.” Sam raised his head, his soulful eyes fixed on his brother’s face. “What I said before – I – it’s just…” he swallowed, and drew in a ragged breath.

Dean held up a hand to silence his sibling. “I know. Me too.” He pulled a handful of swabs and the bottle of peroxide from the kit and proceeded to clean up the vampire bite. After a few moments he chuckled softly.

Sam raised an eyebrow in confusion. “What?”

“Dude – only you could get Daphne’d from a freakin’ truck stop.”

“That’s so not funny, Dean.”

“Aw, come on, Sammy – it’s a little bit funny.”





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mizpah1931: Latin Exorcism - don't leave home without it (Default)

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