The girl was pugnacious as hell. Standing hipshot in her cut-offs and halter top, hands fisted on her hips, her dark eyes sent out an unmistakable 'don't fuck with me' vibe.

Dean ran a quick glance over her small frame. "You might wanna rethink this."

"Don't give me that crap," she sneered. "I've heard the talk. You and your brother have been hunting since you were kids."

"We were – motivated," he replied evenly.

She glared at him. "We're all motivated."

Dean stared at her a long moment, then shrugged. "So hunt. It's your ass."

"Yes. It is," she bit out.