A/N...Welcome back to my loyal followers, my sometimes readers and those that call themselves fans...(I love that!)
A special welcome to those that haven't read my stories yet, this one starts a little slow, but I promise you, it wil build and take you on a journey... just check out my other stories, you'll see!
This new story is, once again, dedicated to BranchSuper, my most loyal reader & reviewer, she has been my shining light when it comes to reviews, always there when I have any doubts... I don't think she realizes how appreciated she really is!
This story was suggested by my dear friend Peter space2develop (Follow him on twitter, I'm ucat42).
Set season two, around episiode 6-7 mild spoilers may appear (not in this chapter) up to that point, I'll warn if they do, though I think most of us have watched season two by now...
The dark haired man was watching.
That was his job.
To watch.
Make sure nothing untoward was happening.
That no hunters were around.
He stretched, his muscles popping with the movement, and lazily yawned.
The security light caught his fangs as they slid back into his gums.
Though this was a boring job, it was tolerable. It took little effort, and he was always very well rewarded.
Last night's reward had been a virgin.
A very pretty blond boy who'd never know the pleasures of the flesh.
Yes, he was very well rewarded.
A dark smile crossed his features as he remembered his reward.
A noise to the left caught his attention and he turned.
He moved back behind the air-conditioning tower, only his dark eyes peering around towards the noise.
A hand reached over the edge of the roof, then another, a bag slowly lowered over the waist high surround.
The person was being very quiet; if not for his heightened sense of hearing the dark haired man would never have heard a thing.
A largish man climbed over the surround and crouched low, head turning, scouting around, checking if he was safe, unnoticed.
The dark haired man sniffed the air. This one was dangerous.
A hunter.
He waited for the man to gather up his bag and watched as he removed a camera with a long lens, placing the strap over his neck.
The hunter walked to the front of the dance club roof and cautiously leaned over, he looked around then positioned his camera in front of his eye, zooming in and out on the patrons awaiting entry below.
The dark haired man was quick.
And silent.
He rushed the hunter and shoved him over the edge. He never had a chance to react, let alone see who had shoved him.
The dark haired man pulled back far enough into the shadow so that he would be unseen, and watched what unfolded below.
The hunter was not dead, but he was unconscious, and badly injured.
It was enough, for now.
The coppery warm smell of the hunter's blood assaulted the dark haired man's senses, and he breathed it in, deeply, hungrily.
The dark haired man walked to the staircase to let his master know what had transpired.
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Rusty was walking slightly ahead of his friends. He felt like the odd one out, again. Everyone had a date except for him.
Again.
He wasn't an ugly young man, in fact, he was rather handsome. He was well dressed, had good hair, was tall, slim and thanks to his sister's great taste in birthday presents, sporting a rather sexy after shave aroma.
But still, he was alone.
His friends kidded him that it was his name. Seriously, who calls a kid Rusty? Especially when he doesn't have red hair?
He sighed. Maybe tonight would be the night.
After all, there, in front of the dance club, a very tasty looking specimen of the female variety lingered.
The girl was pretty, slim and rather tall. Her long blonde hair hung nearly to her waist, softly swirling over her breasts as she stood near the club, waiting to enter.
She looked up as Rusty and his group of friends drew close, her gaze skimming over the group, seeing everyone paired up, then they lingered on Rusty. She offered him a shy smile.
He smiled back, making sure his smile was a warm and friendly one, not a scary I'm here alone and I'm desperate for a girlfriend smile.
Her smile became more generous, and Rusty felt one of his friends poke him in the back in a good humoured, encouraging way. He held his middle finger up behind his back in return.
"Hi, I'm Rusty" not a great opening line, but, hey, may as well get the name out of the way up front.
She ducked her head a little and peered at him from under her long eyelashes. "Rusty? Is that a nickname?"
He gave her his full smile, he knew he had a great smile, always had. His eyes twinkled and his dimples showed. "Nah, just unthinking parents. What's your name?"
"Melanie" she breathed.
"Well, Melanie, what are you doing hanging around out front? Kinda cold"
She nodded. "I seem to have been stood up. The girls from work were going to be here, and I didn't want to go in on my own"
"Well, come in with us. You won't be on your own"
She shrugged, a small shake of her head, and looked up at Rusty's friends. "Do you mind if I ask that you, um, I mean, it's a lot to ask…but…"
Rusty frowned. "Ask. I can only say no!"
"I'd like to wait just a bit longer. Would you wait with me so I'm not on my own? We can meet your friends inside?"
Rusty looked up to his friends, they had climbed the wide steps to the entrance door and were looking back expectantly. He gave them a nod and mouthed five minutes, holding five fingers up. His friends nodded back and entered the outer door to the dance club.
"So, Melanie, I haven't been here before. At the risk of sounding terribly cliché, do you come here often?"
She smiled again, her warm, very inviting smile. "Yes, I do. In fact, I can use the VIP door round the side. What say we go in that way?"
Rusty flicked up an eyebrow. "I thought you wanted to wait for your friends?"
She shrugged. "Their loss. I was going to get them in the VIP door, as well, but they've made me wait for over half an hour. This way, I guess, your friends will see you come in from the VIP area and be impressed"
Rusty offered her his arm. "Sounds like a valid plan to me! Lead the way, my lady"
She wrapped her arm around his and led him around the corner.
The alley was dark, there were no security lights or any door ways that Rusty could see. He walked with her for a few yards, growing more confused as he walked.
He was not concerned for his safety, he was a very fit man, he worked out every day and was proficient in karate.
"Um, Melanie? Are you sure you have the right alley?"
She nodded and pointed ahead, there, barely visible in the reflected light from the street was a dark alcove.
They walked up to it and Rusty still found no relief for his confusion, the door was dark, no illumination came from the inside, and if he calculated correctly, they had actually passed the rear of the club and this door was for the building that opened on the next block.
He turned to question the girl on his arm and gasped as she threw him roughly into the alcove. He tried to push back but she held him against the door, her strength a surprise in such a slim girl.
"What are you doing?" he gasped.
"I couldn't wait to get my hands on you" she purred. "God, I just want to eat you up"
Rusty felt his heartbeat increase.
Really? He was going to get lucky in the alleyway beside the club?
"Um, Melanie…." He started, but cut short when she kissed him, hard and passionate, her mouth open, inviting, and just a little cold.
His body, too long without the company of a woman, responded quickly, and he kissed her back, all his unspent passion building and he grabbed her in his arms, pulling her close, his hips grinding against her.
She pushed him back into the door and started to kiss his face, his cheek, her tongue traced the line of his jaw and she let it linger, teasing, feeling his longing, how much he wanted her.
She kissed his neck and he gasped.
Tipping her head back, she saw his eyes closed, his brow furrowed as he felt her push against him, the exquisite pleasure of the closeness of her sending him to the brink of ecstasy.
She bared her fangs and sank them into his exposed neck, ripping flesh, tearing into him and drinking, drinking the hot metallic taste of him, revelling in his warmth and good health.
Within minutes she had drained him, he fell, lifeless, onto the damp asphalt.
She mussed up his clothes, roughed him around a bit and took his wallet, cell and watch. Standing, she reached over him and smashed the glass panel on the door, catching a large piece of glass as it fell then used this to alter the rip in Rusty's throat. By the time she finished it looked like he'd been robbed and murdered.
She wiped her hands on his jacket and turned, walking out of the alley in the opposite direction she had come. With a bit of luck, his friends wouldn't come looking for ages.
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"We got a job" called Dean as Sam emerged from the gas station bathroom. "Ellen rang"
Sam raised his eyebrows. "Okay, what is it?"
Dean held a hand up as he replaced the gas pump. "Hang a mo, while I pay"
Sam climbed into the passenger seat as he watched his brother gather up several bags of snacks before paying the attendant.
Returning to the car he threw the junk food inside and started the motor, the throaty roar a comfort to both the boys, on many different levels.
"So, the job?" prompted Sam as Dean tore into a packet of Twinkies.
"Oh, yeah" mouth full and cream coating his top lip, Dean thumbed the radio to life. Aerosmith filled the vehicle with drums and a wailing guitar.
"Remember Conrad? Pudgy guy, old buddy of dad's?"
"Yeah, I remember" Sam replied, his nose wrinkling. "He always smelled like feet"
Dean let out a short laugh. "Yeah, I remember that, now! God, he did stink, didn't he?"
"And he smoked those disgusting brown cigarettes. Gross"
"Anyway, he rang Ellen, he was on a job not far from here and he's been hurt. He wanted her to find someone to take over"
"And she thought of us"
Dean turned and gave Sam a wink. "Sometimes, bro, only the best will do"
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Hannah was tall, at least six two. Slim, bright red hair and piercing blue eyes turned men's heads wherever she went.
They all asked her one thing. "Are you a model?"
Sometimes she'd say yes, and no one yet had called her on it.
She had tried modelling, once. It was so mind numbingly boring, she couldn't stand it.
So, back to college she went, after dying her natural blonde hair. Good looks, big boobs, and blonde hair. She was every guy's stereotypical dream girl.
But she had a brain. A big one. High IQ, photographic memory, she was pre med and acing every class she took.
Hannah stifled a yawn as she waited outside the club for her friends. They were a half hour late and she was getting more than annoyed. She told them she didn't want to wait out the front, yet here she was, like some high priced hooker, hanging out the front of the velvet ropes.
Once again the security guard looked over at her and smiled.
Sleazy bastard, Hannah thought. If her friends weren't here in ten minutes she was doing home.
"A lady such as you should not be standing in the cold night air" a salacious voice crooned in her ear.
She turned, startled, as had seen nor heard anyone approach.
The man was beautiful.
His wavy hair was long, shoulder length, and very dark, in the evening light it looked black. His skin was dark, a deep, rich olive, and a crop of black stubble covered most of his face.
His eyes were black; gypsy eyes, framed in long, thick lashes, and as he looked at her, his full lips curved into a crooked smile, one perfect eyebrow arched as if in query.
"Um….what?" she stammered, rendered, for a moment, without a normally fast and sarcastic reply.
"I said, that it is a crime that one as graceful and beautiful as you is standing here in the cool night air. Or something to that effect."
Hannah smiled and felt her cheeks color. "My, um, gosh, my friends are supposed to be meeting me here. They're late"
The man smiled, his teeth white, even, his full lips dark and inviting.
"I own this club. Perhaps you should wait inside, where it is safer, and much warmer"
He nodded to the doorman who nodded back at him. "You can call your friends from my telephone in my office"
Hannah smiled even wider, and nodded. "Oh, yes, please, that would be fantastic!" she gushed.
The man led her passed the front door. "I have my own entry. It is much more, would you say, cultured?"
Hannah giggled.
Tonight, she was going to emerge from the private office on the arm of the owner of the club.
And her friends would not. Eat that, biaches, serves you right for being so late.
He offered his arm and she wrapped hers around it. "What is your name?"
"Hannah" she breathed, trying to calm her beating heart down.
"Hannah. Lovely name. "
He led her around the corner into the alley. She felt a little apprehensive, but could already see the door he was leading her too, it had a light over the top, and a security guard beside it.
The guard opened the door and the man ushered her inside, down a darkish corridor, the music from the club a muted beat as they walked the short distance to his office.
He pulled the door open and flung her through, slamming her into the wall.
She was winded and confused, bright sparks were spinning in front of her eyes.
Before she could regain her senses she felt a deep, sharp pain in her neck.
Biting her? He was biting her?
He pulled back and she saw what he really was, the sharp, pointed fangs, all dripping with her blood, which was also smeared over his mouth and chin.
He grinned at her, his lips pulled back in a rictus of lust, and he bit his wrist, a large chunk of flesh torn loose with no effort.
He pushed the sound into her mouth.
"Drink me, girl. I'm giving you a gift eternity"
Hannah tried to resist, she desperately tried, but the cold, coppery blood trickled down her throat, and her reflexes took over and she swallowed convulsively.
The man smiled again. "You are mine, now."
A knock on the door distracted him and he released his grip.
Hannah ran.
She ran faster than she ever had, somehow making it out of the club with no one stopping her.
She rang passed the front of the club where her friends has still not shown up.
She ran, all the way, until she made it home.
The man didn't chase her. He knew she'd be back.
They always came back. And if they didn't, well, a hunter usually took care of them.
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Hannah spent the next twelve hours trying to convince herself that she wasn't…well….she couldn't even say the words.
She was grateful her parents had gone away for the weekend. And her brother always spent the weekend at his girlfriend's house.
She was alone.
She tried killing herself. She cut her wrists long, and deep, but the blood pooled and stopped after only a few minutes.
As darkness fell across the city she did what she did not want to do.
She couldn't help it; the hunger was driving her crazy.
She went back to find the man.
On Monday evening her mother opened the door to her room, to find only the room turned upside down and two large pools of blood. She turned, screaming, to find her husband.
The family dog, a large, heavily pregnant border collie, padded into the room.
She sniffed the blood.
And lapped it all up.
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"Man, that has to be the best shower we've ever had, in any hotel we've ever stayed in" Dean announced as he walked out of the shower, one towel wrapped around his hips, another around his hair.
"Hotel owner's sons are plumbers. He showed me the set up he's got in his room. Spa, steam shower, bidet, his and hers johns, you name it, he's got it"
"Sounds like heaven" Dean answered, then frowned. "What were you doing in the hotel owner's private room, buddy boy?"
Sam gave him half a smirk. "He was getting me the modem for WiFi, for my computer"
"Sure he was" muttered Dean as he turned to his bed, his clothes already pulled out and placed on the bed in some rough resemblance of what he'd be wearing. First thing he did, though, was pull his amulet over his head, adjusting the knot on the leather to sit at the back of his neck.
"Well, um, look. The latest girl to go missing was last seen at the club, ah, the, ah, I had it here…" Sam scrolled through the pages open on his laptop. "Yeah. The 'Night Garden'"
Dean pulled his t-shirt over his head and dropped his towel, pulling his boxes up in a smooth movement, no shame in his appearance. He had shared rooms with his brother for so many years that he just dressed, no carrying on or false modesty.
"Dance club? Gah, hate those things"
Sam turned to his brother. "Dean, when have you ever been inside a dance club?"
Dean pulled up his jeans and buttoned the fly. A small grin crept over his mouth, but he didn't answer.
"Dean?"
"Ah, Sammy, the things we dudes will do for a pretty girl. And her sister" he turned and his grin became a lecherous smile. "Twins"
Sam smiled, his cheeks coloring. "Ah, anyway. The case. The girls all go missing after arranging to meet friends at the club. Police have checked the security tapes, they never go in. But the tapes from down a bit show them walking towards the club"
"And then guys bodies start turning up a few days later?"
"That's what Conrad said. He hunted down two vamped out girls, but didn't stop to talk to them, just took their heads off."
Dean sat on the bed and pulled on his socks. "He always was a lousy hunter. I mean, great instincts, but he never stopped to ask questions. How we supposed to find out who's vamping them?"
Sam nodded. "Yeah, probably how he got both legs busted when he was thrown off the dance club roof. Didn't even see who threw him"
Dean pulled on his boots and laced them up. "He say anything else?"
Sam turned back to his computer. "Nah, man. He was pretty doped up. Thought I was you. Thought one of the nurses was his mom."
Dean smirked. "Now you know why I convinced you to speak to him. Caint stand the guy. Never could"
Sam ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I know. But he was one of dad's buddies…"
"Funny how we only hear from dad's buddies when they want something" Dean stood and pulled a flannel shirt on, rolling each sleeve up to his elbows.
"Yeah. If this hunt hadn't of gone wrong for Conrad we probably would never have heard from him again"
The older brother snagged his keys from the table Sam was sitting at. "Dude, we only heard from him coz Ellen rang us to see if we can take this job."
Sam stood up. "Yeah, I guess. So, wanna go passed the club?"
Dean pulled his jacket on and threw Sam his. "Nah. Wanna eat first. Too early for those things to even be open. Besides, I think we should pick up Conrad's research notes, see just what the hell we're dealing with here"
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The doorman looked Dean up and down, distaste clear on his face. "Nope"
Dean gave him the most dazzling smile he could muster. "Aw, c'mon, man.."
"Nope"
Sam pulled Dean away. "You're never gonna get in if you're dressed like that, Dean. If you don't look the part you don't get in"
"So, I gotta look like a douche to get in the douche-bag's douchy club?"
"Dean! Let's just, I dunno, wait over here a bit, see who comes in and out?"
Dean grumbled and pouted but allowed himself to be led back to the car, where they could sit in relative comfort and observe the passage of young, barely dressed girls heading into the club.
Every now and then a pack of young men would descend, all bright and excited, ready to prowl the night looking for a possible liaison with one of the pretty things in the club.
They sat for several hours, watching the girls come and go. There was nothing out of the ordinary. "We may as well head back to the motel" yawned Sam, stretching. "None of the girls has gone missing after two A.M."
"Yeah, I don't see anything hinkey goin' on here tonight" Dean stifled a yawn. "And we probably need more research, much as I hate to admit it. Let's go hit Conrad's motel room and gather up his things, then head home to sleep"
Sam nodded. "Yeah. Sure. I'm beat. If we can get some sleep I'll go through Conrad's papers and try and make sense of it all"
Dean started the car, the throaty roar filling the street in front of the night club.
And catching the attention of the security guard at the front door.
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A/N...first five reviewers can have a character named after them! (Leave your first name in your review) I need people to kill off! lol...
Next chapter wil be about a week away, I have started it, but I have a weekend wedding to go to, a stay over one, so will not be able to write until next week...