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Chapter 3

Dean was humming along with Zeppelin as he pulled into the motel parking lot. He hated leaving Sam alone when his brother was feeling shitty, but there was a coffee shop less than a mile from the motel and he knew Sam would want some caffeine when he woke up. Sam was always groggy after a bad night—a problem that only his girly coffee seemed to solve, Dean had found over the years. Headaches had plagued Sam since childhood, only getting worse into adulthood with his visions and powers, so mornings like this weren't uncommon, though with the wall in Sam's head threatening to topple at the slightest breeze, Dean couldn't help his inside-gnawing worry every time Sam looked even remotely ill.

He rounded the corner and that worry ratcheted up about six notches. The door to their room was wide open. Could mean anything, Dean told himself as he swung the Impala into a parking spot a few spaces down—just in case. Because really, it was more likely that Sam had gone to the ice machine and left the door open so he didn't have to bring a key. Or he could have gone for a run to clear his head and didn't latch the door. He could have—

Fuck, when was that ever the case in their lives?

Dean got out of the car and pulled his gun from the back of his jeans. No way in hell was he walking around a vampire-infested town without some kind of protection on him; vamps might come out at night, but who knew what else might be in a town that was so closely tied to the supernatural. He stuck to the side of the building and crept along wall to his door. There wasn't any sound coming from inside, but he took the safety off anyway.

After several seconds of nothing, Dean peered around the doorframe and let out a string of curses before clicking the safety back on. The room was empty, but there had obviously been a struggle. A quick search the room turned up no Sam, but the sheets from Sam's bed were on the floor, a purse was spilled over the table, and there was a small bloodstain on the wall across from Dean's bed. Dean's stomach twisted at the sight. He was pretty damn sure he knew whose blood that was.

But just to be sure, Dean pulled out his phone and hit Sam's number on speed dial. He started when he heard buzzing coming from the bedside table. Dean cursed again and hung up his phone. He knew coming to a vampire town was a bad idea. He knew leaving Sam alone was a bad idea, even just for a few minutes. The two mixed could only mean very bad things. Had they been double crossed? Had the Salvatore vamps sold them out? Dean shook his head as he ran through possible scenarios. No, that didn't make sense. This had happened within the last thirty minutes in broad daylight. Vamps should be sleeping. So what?

Dean grabbed Sam's phone and found Alaric's number; he hadn't bothered putting it in his own phone since Sam had been the one to talk to the other hunter. At least he might have an idea of what they were dealing with and whose face Dean could pound in until he got his brother back—and then some more for good measure. He dialed Alaric's number, but it went straight to voicemail.

"Son of a bitch," he growled, ending the call. He scrolled through the rest of the numbers in his brother's phone, but didn't find anything useful. Mostly Campbells, and like hell Dean would call them for help after what Samuel had pulled. It didn't seem like Sam had the Salvatores' numbers either, which meant Dean was flying solo at the moment. He pocketed Sam's phone and went back to inspecting the room.

He frowned at the overturned purse. Sam must have had a visitor sometime after Dean had left—but was it a visitor who had taken Sam or was just in the wrong place at the wrong time? He knelt down to inspect what had spilled onto the carpet and pulled out a cell phone. He turned it on and shook his head; the wallpaper was a picture of that Elena girl and vampire boyfriend Stefan in some park. So Elena had come to visit… So had she been taken when Sam was or had she fled?

Or had they both fled?

Or…

Dean shook his head. No, he wasn't going there. This was getting him nowhere and definitely wasn't helping Sammy. And then he did a double take at the phone's wallpaper and gaped. The picture had been taken during the day.

"What the hell is going on here?" he demanded, turning in a circle again to look around the room. Even if Sam was feeling crappy, it would still take something pretty damn strong to take him down—though if they had taken the girl as a hostage, then his bleeding heart brother (god it was good to have him back) might have gone willingly… Though the blood on the wall said otherwise.

Dean raked a hand through his hair. "Okay Winchester, think."

It would have taken something with supernatural strength to take Sam down. They were in a vampire town. There was a picture on Elena's phone of a vampire not burning alive in the middle of the day. So, if they had somehow found a way to walk in the day, the Salvatores were back on the suspect list.

But the spilled purse said Elena had been taken, not gone willingly. If the Salvatores had been involves, she likely would have, too. So, someone else in town had taken Sam and Elena.

Someone like the nest of vampires that had brought the Winchesters into town in the first place.

"Son of a bitch," Dean cursed again. "Freaking vamps."

What Dean needed now was a lead. And for that he needed people who knew the town, the supernatural population, and the new vampires. Which meant he needed Alaric and the Salvatore brothers. With Alaric not answering his phone…

Dean groaned and scrolled through the contact numbers on Elena's phone. It was like the ABCs of Mystic Falls: Alaric, Bonnie, Caroline. And Damon.

With a shake of his head, Dean called the vampire.

"Elena," Damon answered on the second ring, "not that I am not thrilled to hear from you first thing in the morning, but shouldn't you be in school with my baby brother? Ric called to say you skipped class."

"Damon, this is Dean. Winchester," Dean managed to grind out. The vampire just oozed sleaze as far as Dean was concerned. He got under Dean's skin in a way very few people could—the Gordon Walkers and Zachariahs of the world.

"Dean." Damon's voice changed from teasing to irate in a heartbeat—or lack thereof, Dean amended with a snort for himself. Sam would have groaned at the joke and Dean tried not to think about that. "Perfect." The eye roll was practically audible. "Why do you have Elena's phone?"

"Because I just got back to my motel room to find the door open, signs of a fight, my baby brother gone, and Elena's purse on the floor," Dean replied tersely. He didn't have time for a pissing contest when his brother's life was on the line. "I'm guessing she came to visit and was nabbed by whatever took Sam."

Damon let off a string of curses that even Dean couldn't help but be impressed by. Seemed living forever gave you time to learn inventive curses. Duly noted.

"So that's why she wasn't in Ric's history class this morning. She went to visit you morons," he muttered. "Figures."

"Watch it," Dean growled back.

But Damon ignored him. "Okay, you still at your motel?"

"Yes."

"I'm on my way. I'll get Stefan and Ric."

Elena sat cross-legged in the back of the van, her hands tied in front of her with zip-ties that bit painfully into her skin. Sam was still unconscious, though his wrists and ankles were also bound, and Elena had taken the hunter's head into her lap to check for any injuries. She found blood matted in his hair in the back where the vampire—Kate, Sam had called her—had slammed his head against the wall.

Sam had slumped bonelessly to the floor after that, and Kate had grabbed him and tossed him over her shoulder like he weighed nothing despite his size. The other vampires had followed her into the parking lot, dragging Elena along like a paper doll. They'd tied up both their hostages and shoved them into the back of the van, which was complete with tinted windows for the sunlight impaired. The hulking guys had gone up front while Kate had stayed in the back, shutting the door behind her.

Elena had no idea how long they'd been driving, but she could only hope Stefan or Ric or Sam's brother would realize something was wrong soon and come looking. Sam wasn't looking good and Elena didn't stand a chance on her own. She swallowed. These vampires were in league with Klaus—they wouldn't kill her, not when Klaus needed her for his ceremony. But that didn't mean they wouldn't hurt her. Nothing said the doppelganger needed to be in perfect health when the hybrid drained her.

She glanced over at Kate, who was watching Sam with a curious expression on her face. Elena bit her lip before speaking. "He knew you," she ventured. She'd been moderately surprised that Sam had actually known the vampire hunting him and his brother, considering Dean's comments the night before about having wasted more vampires than they could count.

A pained expression crossed Kate's face. "I'm surprised he remembered, actually. I crossed paths with the Winchesters about seven years ago."

Elena glanced down at Sam. Alaric had given them a brief rundown of the Winchesters' backstory before they'd come into town—they'd been raised in the hunter's life by their father, who was an infamous hunter in his own right, but that they'd become pretty damn famous on their own, getting tied up with demons and angels and stuff far above his pay grade... Ric had only been hunting since Isobel's disappearance, which hadn't been all that long ago, truthfully. But the Winchesters had been in it their entire lives… She briefly wondered what Sam and Dean had been like seven years ago but said nothing.

"Those boys and their father… They kidnapped me, poisoned me, killed people in our nest and…" Kate shook her head. "They killed my mate. Luthor."

"Your mate?" Elena asked in surprise. Admittedly her vampire experience wasn't extremely wide, but this was the first she'd heard of mates.

"My kind breed for life, honey," Kate said bitterly. "And dear daddy Winchester shot Luthor in the head with a magic gun. And now I'm left alone for eternity…" Elena felt a momentary pang of pity for the vampire before remembering that she'd been kidnapped.

"The only thing keeping me going has been hunting down these sons of bitches all these years. John Winchester might have died before I could get my fangs into him, but these two will do. And I'm not the only one who wants them dead. They've been like ghosts—hell, I've heard that they've been ghosts a time or two. But they look alive enough now, don't you think, doppelganger?"

"My name is Elena."

Kate smiled predatorily. "So the doppelganger's got a spine after all. Cute. Won't do you any good, but it's cute."

Elena opened her mouth to retort but shut it again when she felt Sam shifting. She looked down at him and watched as he slowly returned to consciousness. His eyes opened to slits once before shutting again. He moaned softly and opened his eyes again. He seemed to take in his surroundings with a practiced eye—the type of gaze Elena had seen Alaric use when entering an unfriendly situation—including Elena. He jerked against his bonds a couple of times before giving up. Elena recognized the pain in Sam's eyes—waking up from a blow to the head like that had to hurt like hell—but he pushed it aside, focusing on the danger.

"So he lives after all," Kate said, eyes lighting up. "For now."

Sam's eyes narrowed as his gaze settled on the vampire. "That's more than I can say for you," he replied, before his lip curled up in a mocking expression as he struggled to sit himself up. Elena grabbed his shoulders and helped steady him. Sam spared her a brief glance before turning back to his captor. "And your mate. What was his name?"

"Luthor," Kate ground out.

Sam made a show of nodding thoughtfully. "Ah, right. It was just so long and so many vampires ago."

His snark took Elena by surprise, since he'd seemed so genuine and, well, friendly from the couple of times she'd talked with him. But looks could be deceiving, she supposed. After everything she'd been through in the last year, that seemed truer than ever.

"Asshole," Kate hissed at him. "He was my mate."

"Is that what this is about? That we killed your boyfriend seven years ago?"

"Luthor was everything to me. And you boys and your father took him from me," Kate growled, sounding very much like an animal. Elena would have backed away from the tone if there had been somewhere to go.

But Sam just shrugged, which seemed to infuriate Kate more. "You took the most important thing from me, so I'm returning the favor. I'm sure Dean won't like to see your motel room empty when he gets back."

Sam's cocky expression faltered for a moment, but he schooled himself quickly—and that's when Elena realized what he was doing. He was provoking the vampire on purpose to keep attention on him; he remembered Kate's name and how long ago they'd crossed paths... Elena was sure he remembered the mate's name as well, but was trying to get a rise out of Kate, and it was working.

"Messing with me was the worst possible thing you could do," Sam informed her. "That's what got your mate killed, as I recall. Had me by the throat, so my dad shot him. And Dean's going to do the same to you..." He smiled coldly, looking very much like a predator himself despite being a captive. "Assuming I don't get the chance first, anyway."

"You arrogant son of a bitch," Kate hissed and launched herself at Sam, her second set of teeth descending.

Elena shoved herself away, though there wasn't much room in the back of the van. Sam hissed as Kate's teeth bit into his neck. He screwed his eyes shut as Kate pulled his hair back by his hair. Kate took several gulps before pulling back from Sam with a wide-eyed gasp. Sam's blood dripped from her chin. Sam slumped, but opened his eyes tiredly at the interruption.

"What—" Kate broke off, wiping her hand across her mouth.

"Kate, what is it?" one of the vampires in the front asked, turning around.

"Your blood," she said, still staring at Sam. "It's… different."

Sam snorted. "No shit." His words weren't quite slurred, but he was definitely straining to stay conscious. Elena had no idea what was going on, but Sam seemed to know what the vampire meant. He sounded almost resigned, though that could have been the blood loss.

"Different?" the hulk of a vampire repeated.

"It's…" Kate trailed off as she searched for the right word. "Intoxicating," she said finally. "I feel powerful."

"Perfect," Elena thought she heard Sam mutter under his breath.

Kate retracted her teeth and leaned back on her haunches. "Slight change of plans, boys," she said, finally turning to the other vampires.

"What, he's not going to be bait anymore?" the driver asked, glancing back in the rearview mirror.

Kate shook her head. "No, he's still bait for Dean. The Winchesters are going to pay for what they did to Luthor and all our friends."

"So what?"

Kate nodded toward Sam, who had lost consciousness at some point in the conversation. Elena thought that was probably for the best at the next words. "I've never tasted blood like his before. So we keep him alive as long as possible. And we feed."

"What about Klaus?"

"Screw Klaus," Kate snapped. "He's not even one of our kind. He got us the Winchesters, sure, but this? He has no right to this." She smiled and Elena felt a shiver run down her spine. "Sam Winchester is officially feeding stock."

Dean looked up from his pacing around the motel room at a knock at the door. He checked his gun before peering through the peep hole. When he saw who was on the other side, he opened the door and stepped aside. Damon, Stefan, and Alaric stepped inside.

"Thanks for the call, dear," Damon said as he stepped past Dean. "Didn't take you for the type to call the morning after."

Dean really, really didn't like that guy.

Freaking vampires… walking in the day like they were human. Dean shook head as he shut the door behind them. The vampires he knew could walk in the day, though it hurt like hell so they'd never be able to keep it up for long. The Salvatores, though, didn't seem bothered at all. He wondered if it had to do with the different vampire breeds but somehow doubted it.

He was going to get answers eventually. But right now he needed to focus on finding Sam. And that meant cooperating with certain day-walking night creatures.

Stefan's eyes had gone immediately to the spilled purse. Dean hadn't moved anything since calling Damon—except the dust in his path as he paced.

"What happened?" Stefan demanded, looking up from his girlfriend's belongings.

"I went out to get coffee. Sam was still asleep when I left. I was gone maybe half an hour, and when I got back, the door was wide open. Everything else was like it is now," Dean replied tersely. He'd been going over possible scenarios while he waited and they'd gotten progressively bloodier the longer he dwelled.

"Elena must have come by while you were gone," Alaric said, crossing his arms against his chest as he looked around the room. "I got worried when she wasn't in class this morning."

"Me too," Stefan grumbled, looking through Elena's belongings once more—probably to make sure nothing was missing, Dean thought with some annoyance. Elena must not have filled him in on her plan.

Dean glanced over at Alaric. "In class?"

"Ric teaches history at Mystic Falls High," Damon said. He was checking out the blood spot on the wall and hadn't even looked up.

Dean raised an eyebrow at the other hunter, but Alaric just shrugged. "I like history," he said.

"You and Sam, couple of nerds," Dean muttered under his breath. Alaric huffed a laugh. At least he could admit it. That was a point in his favor, Dean decided.

"This isn't Elena's," Damon said of the blood, more to Stefan than anyone else.

"Is it Sam's?" Alaric asked.

Damon frowned. "It's not vampire… but it doesn't smell entirely human either. Mostly human, but there's something... different."

"Then it's Sam's." Which Dean had already suspected.

"What?"

"What does that mean?"

Dean shook his head. "As disturbing as it is that you can tell there's something different about it," he said, "it's definitely Sam's."

Stefan knelt next to Damon and frowned. "What is that? I've never smelled anything like it."

"It's not important," Dean growled. "What matters is where my brother and your girlfriend are. Let's try thinking about that, huh?"

"Considering where we are," Alaric said, tone reasonable in a way that reminded Dean of Sam and made his stomach clench with worry, "the blood could be a clue. What is it, Dean?"

Dean frowned at the three sets of eyes watching him. He debated how important the information was—and how mad Sam would be if he said anything—but finally shrugged. It didn't seem like these guys were going to let up until he explained and, as loath as he was to admit it, he needed their help to find his brother.

"Sam was tainted by a demon's blood as a baby. I'm guessing that's what you smell."

Damon and Stefan shared a long look before Stefan turned to Dean. "That makes sense. Would the vampires hunting you know about this?"

Dean frowned. "The ones you called us about?" Stefan nodded. "Considering how I have no idea who they are, I don't know. Why?"

"Because drinking this blood would be like a major drug trip to a vampire," Damon said, pushing himself to his feet. "There's power in Sam's blood—and I can think of plenty of vampires who would kill to get their hands on some."

Dean shrugged. "We've played the demon blood thing pretty close to the vest, but shit gets around. I don't know." Sam's demon blood addiction seemed to have gotten around the hunting community at one point, but Dean had no idea if that gossip had included Azazel's blood taint or not.

"If that were true," Alaric said, "then the vampires would want to keep him alive. To keep the blood supply fresh."

Stefan nodded but Dean shook his head. "If that were true. It probably means nothing. What we should be doing is looking for the vampires that came here looking for me and my brother. Cash money says they're the ones that have Sam and Elena."

"Like we said last night, the town was partially built by vampires. There are countless places in and around the town they could be hiding. It would be like looking for a—"

"A needle in a haystack of vampires," Dean finished wryly.

Stefan rolled his eyes but nodded. "Basically."

"So what then? I'm not just leaving my brother."

"And we're not just leaving Elena," Damon snapped in return.

Dean returned the glare, but it was Alaric who finally broke up the staring contest. "Look, whoever took Sam and Elena are long gone by now. We're not going to find out anything more here."

"So what then?"

"So," Damon said, pulling out his phone, "I put my connections to use."

Dean raised an eyebrow and Alaric shrugged. "Sheriff Forbes is a friend of Damon's. She's also on the Founder's Council so knows about the vampires. People go to her when they hear things, so if anyone will know anything about vampire problems in town, it's her."

"She can get her people looking for Elena, if nothing else," Stefan added.

"Great. And what are we supposed to do?" Dean demanded. He hated feeling helpless, especially when Sam was in trouble.

"We go back to the house and start looking through maps," Damon said as he hung up his cell. "We can try to narrow down our search parameters."

"What did the Sheriff say?" Stefan asked.

"She's got her people on it."

It was dusk as Dean pored over a map alongside Alaric in the Salvatore's drawing room. Stefan and Damon were in and out of the room all afternoon, doing god knows what to help with the search. Dean really, really hated being left out of the loop.

"I heard you the first hundred times," Alaric said with an eye roll when Dean grumbled at Stefan leaving the room again. "That's just how they operate."

"Vampires," Dean grumbled.

"I heard that," Damon called from the hallway.

"Good!"

Alaric sighed and took a gulp of his drink. Dean reached for his own when his phone went off in his pocket. He put his glass down and grabbed his phone, stopping dead at the name on the caller ID.

Sammy.

tbc…