Chapter 1

I pulled into the driveway of Singer Auto, home of Bobby Singer. The Pick-N-Pull lot outside his house was laden with disheveled, broken down cars of all makes and models. I had a hard time finding the trail leading up to his actual house, and an even harder time finding his front door. When I finally did find his house, I was entirely surprised by its size. It was a three-story-tall country style house with worn out vinyl siding and a rather large front porch.

All of the lights were off in his house, which made sense considering it was two in the morning. "I hope he's awake," I thought to my best friend Abigail.

"He's not," she replied. "I guess we'll just have to wake him up. This is important." I rolled my eyes up to the ceiling of our old Dodge Challenger after I parked. As if I didn't know the reason Abigail and I were waking up Bobby Singer in the middle of the night was a matter of urgent importance. "No need to get snippy," she huffed.

"Let's just hope he doesn't try to shoot us. Who the hell comes calling at two in the morning, anyway?"

"We do, because we need his help. I'm sure he's gotten plenty of people calling him in the middle of the night for help before."

"I guess," I sighed and stepped out into the icy cold night. Abby followed suit and shivered against the chill. I pulled my jacket tighter around my body and walked up the creaky wooden stairs to Bobby's front door. "Here goes nothing." With one frozen finger, I rang the doorbell.

I could hear him wake up. "Who the hell could that be? If that's John, I might actually just shoot him in the foot like I said I would." A light popped on in one of the second floor windows. "That's not John's truck…" he thought skeptically.

"Please, hurry," I mumbled to myself as an icy cold wind whipped our backs.

There was some rustling around for a couple of minutes, the sound of a large safe being opened, and the distinct click of a loaded rifle being cocked. Finally, he yelled out, "Who's there?"

"My name's Gabrielle, and I'm here with my friend Abigail! Please, Mr. Singer, we need your help! It's urgent!"

Bobby Singer was a skeptical individual. I could tell by his thoughts. He was going to keep his door shut and locked until he was sure we weren't dangerous. "Car trouble?" he asked.

"No, sir. Not exactly."

"Hmmm. Hunters," he wondered. "You got any weapons?"

"A few," I admitted.

"Lay 'em down at the door and walk over to the window with your hands in the air," he ordered.

Abby glanced over at me, and I knew what she was thinking. Relinquishing all of your weapons after you'd been through an ordeal like ours was hard to do, but we needed Bobby. So, I started pulling all of my weapons out and setting them down in front of the door: a knife from my hip, a small hand gun, and another knife from my boot. Abigail did as I did, and we slowly walked over to the window with our hands in front of us.

Bobby Singer was looking at us through yellowed lace curtains. He looked exactly as I'd expected him to look; he was a five-foot-ten, grizzled man in his fifties or sixties with a full beard who was wearing a plaid shirt, a trucker hat, and had a Winchester rifle pointed straight at us. "Hunters?" When Abigail and I nodded, he lowered his weapon a little. "What's the nature of your business?"

"Vampires," I said and Abigail nodded in affirmation.

"Were you followed?" he demanded and raised his rifle again.

"No, sir," I shook my head and gave him the most pleading look I could muster.

"Look awful young to be hunters," he thought to himself. "And to be tangling with vampires…they're so rare now-a-days…. Might as well let 'em in." Bobby disappeared from the window and reappeared at the front door. Abby and I lowered our hands and walked around to meet him. "Keep those hands up," he ordered. I lifted my hands back up and watched as he bent to pick up the weapons we'd put on the porch.

Once he had all of our weapons in his possession, he lowered the rifle and invited us in. Before we were completely over the threshold, he doused us with salty holy water and then handed us a silver knife to make a small cut with. These were all tests that hunters had to pass before other hunters trusted them. Salt and holy water, to make sure you weren't a demon. A silver knife to make sure you weren't a shifter, a werewolf, or some other dastardly creature. Of course, Abigail and I passed all the tests.

After making sure we were completely defenseless, Bobby finally lowered his rifle completely. "Vamps, huh?" he raised his gray eyebrows. "Where'd you find those? I thought they were almost extinct."

"We found them in Chicago," I explained. "There's a coven of twenty or so just outside the city."

"I'll have to let John and Dean in on that one," he said to himself. "So, how did you find me?" he asked us as he led us to his quaint little kitchen just off the main entrance.

"We heard through the grape vine that you're one of the best hunters there is."

The corner of his mouth turned up a little, and he shrugged. "I'm a fair hunter. Please, have a seat. I'll make some coffee." "Best hunter there is? Kinda like the sound o' that, even if it is a load of B.S."

Abby and I sat down at the white washed table in Bobby's kitchen while he started up a pot of coffee. Once the coffee was on, he joined us. "So, tell me what's goin' on." "I really hope nothin' followed 'em here. I'm not in the mood to deal with vamps tonight."

"What do you want to know?" I asked.

"Don't tell him anything more than the basics," Abby reminded me with a gently prod.

"I know, I know." I took a deep breath and began. "In the ninth grade, we figured out ghosts were real. And that's all we hunted for a while. Then one day, we were at the movies and we found this vampire feeding on some girl behind the theater. We killed it, and life went on. Then we left for Spring Break a week ago, and while we were gone the vampires coven came and murdered our families."

"Jesus," Bobby groaned. "That's tough. So they can't be more'n seventeen or eighteen. They probably want revenge." "Well, what do you need my help for?" he asked.

"We'd like some more training," I admitted. "One vampire is easy enough, but twenty is a bit of a stretch. Especially if you're new, like we are."

"Twenty is a stretch for experienced hunters, kid."

"And we also heard you've got a lot of reliable information that could be helpful," Abby added. "We're willing to pay you."

Bobby gave us a shifty look. "The lore is easy. But the training takes years, and I mean years, to perfect. Most hunters who try to take on that many vamps at one time don't come back." "This is crazy- a suicide mission."

My hope sank a little, but I wasn't giving up that easy. I leant across the table and stared into Bobby's blue eyes. "Mr. Singer, please, they killed our families. We can't just let this go."

Bobby contemplated for a long while, considering all the pros and cons of helping out two teenage girls with a vendetta. Finally, he said, "I'll help as much as I can, but I ain't kiddin' about this being dangerous."

"We understand that. In fact, we agree completely. But we can't just sit on our asses and not try to do something about it." Dying didn't scare me or Abby anymore. After all, what did we have to lose besides each other? "When can we start the training?"

"What's today? Saturday? We can start Monday," he said. "Do you want some coffee before you go to bed? I'm assumin' you have nowhere else to go." "Poor kids."

Abigail, who hated pity of any kind (and I couldn't blame her), said, "No. It's okay. We'll just go to the motel down the street. We don't want to impose."

"You sure? Got plenty o' room."

As much as I would have loved to sleep in an actual house again, I followed Abigail's lead on this one. Pity wasn't something we took advantage of. We both stood up to leave. "No, it's okay. We'll be just fine for the night. Thank you, Mr. Singer."

"Call me Bobby," he said and stood, too. He led us to the front door and gave us our weapons back. "I'll see you two bright n' early Monday morning."

"Yes, sir," I confirmed. "Oh, and thank you."

"No problem, kid. Here's my number, in case you need me before Monday." He handed me a business card with several numbers on it. "Just try 'em all until I pick up."

"Okay," I smiled. It was the first time I'd smiled since my family had died. "Thank you, Bobby."

As Abby and I were walking back to our car, I heard Bobby think to himself, "Nice kids. Shame what happened to 'em."

"He seemed nice," I said, making an attempt to get Abby to talk to me. But alas, she was asleep in the passenger seat before I even had a chance to start the engine.

As I was driving to the motel we'd passed on the way into town, I reached out with my mind to see what Abby was dreaming about. I should've know, she was dreaming about her family. Not wanting to pry, I pulled back and just looked at her.

Abby had been my best friend since grade school. I'd always thought she was beautiful with her dark brown hair, wide hazel eyes, olive skin, and small splash of freckles. People thought we were sisters all the time, and still do. Maybe it's because our faces are the same shape, and we have similar noses. Or maybe it's because we're both five-foot-four with medium-sized builds. Either way, I didn't get it.

We pulled into the Sioux Falls Motel parking lot. It was a dingy little motel, just like all the others we'd stayed at on the way to Bobby's. I pulled into a parking space close to the office and got out, leaving Abby asleep. She hadn't slept in a while. Neither had I, but I didn't really need sleep. If I slept, I'd go crazier than if I didn't sleep. The nightmares I had….

Inside the office, there was a little old man working the desk. "Good morning," he smiled brightly and sipped at a large mug of coffee. "Next time, Tim is working the graveyard shift."

"Hello," I replied. "I'd like a room with two beds, please."

"Certainly!" he pulled a set of keys out from under the counter. "Room 507."

"Thank you," I said and exchanged the keys for forty five dollars.

"She's pretty. Wonder if she's into older men," he mused. "No problem, sweetie. Need anything else?" Well, wasn't he the lively one?

"No, thank you. Just the room," I smiled a little and went back to the car. Abby had woken up and was pulling our luggage out of the back seat. "Room 507," I told her.

"Sounds good to me," she yawned as I hauled my last suitcase out of the car. "Do they have weekly rates? We'll be here for a while."

"Two hundred a week," I admitted. She glared over at me. "It's the only place in town!"

"Yeah, well, we're not made of money!"

"Maybe we can find jobs…."

"Or maybe we can hustle pool," she bit back. "We should have stayed with Bobby."

"You didn't want to, remember?" I reminded her and started lugging my things toward the room we were given.

Our room was exactly the same as all the others we'd stayed at. Two beds, small kitchenette, bathroom, and a television. Abby and I would follow our usual ritual. We'd unpack, I'd put my things in the top drawer and Abs would put her belongings in the bottom of the dresser that the TV always perched on. After that we'd do an inventory of all the weapons we had.

Since we hadn't been hunting much other than ghosts, we didn't have many weapons. A bunch of blades, a few things made of iron, a large jar of salt, and our handguns. We kept three magazines for each of the guns, but that was all we had.

I pulled some pajamas from my drawer and slipped them on. Abigail was already passed out on the bed closest to the door. As usual, she had a large blade laid out on the floor next to her. I practiced this habit, too, but I kept mine on the bedside table. Better paranoid than dead. I laid down but, as usual, couldn't sleep. Too many horrific images running through my head. So, I sat up, pulled the Bible out of the drawer from the bedside table, and started reading it. It was just something to do to keep my mind off things. I didn't really take any of it seriously. It's hard to believe in a God who would let creatures like vampires crawl the earth.

"Did you stay awake all night?" Abby asked me when she woke up in the morning.

"No," I shook my head. I wasn't lying. I'd gotten bored with the Bible and fell asleep for a couple of hours. "We should get a move on. Bobby's expecting us."

I got out of my bed, collected my toiletries, and went to take a shower while Abby rustled up some breakfast. The bathroom was, as usual, a matchbox. The room was barely eight feet wide. At least the shower was clean, unlike the one in the last motel we stayed in. I cut the water on and removed my pajamas. I'd lost quite a bit of weight, considering it had only been a week since my family had been murdered.

There were heavy, dark circles under my eyes. My face was paler and thinner than it had ever been. Abby and I used to be 'curvy', but now we'd lost almost five pounds each and counting. Whenever we tried to eat, we either couldn't keep it down or lost our appetite a few bites in. We were starving and we couldn't bring ourselves to eat.

The shower felt wonderful after that long drive and staying up most of the night. I was sad when it was over, but I was eager to get to Bobby's and see what he was going to teach us. "Gabby," Abby called out. "Do you want butter on your toast?"

"Sure, if I can eat it." I started putting my makeup on to cover up how exhausted I was. "Maybe I should get some sleep. I look like shit."

"No, you don't. You just look tired. And sleep would do you good. You'd be more alert than you already are."

I left the bathroom and started pawing through my clothes to see if I had anything that would be okay to get dirty. Eventually, I found an old t-shirt I hadn't worn in ages, some jeans I didn't really care about, and a pair of tennis shoes. "Today should be warmer than last night, right?" I wondered as I put my shoes on and strung my hair through a ponytail elastic.

"It is. It's supposed to be in the high seventies today and a little overcast."

I took a bite of the toast and immediately wanted to spit it out. Food just didn't taste good anymore. I forced myself to swallow down two pieces of the toast and an apple before I finally gave up on trying to eat. So, I cleaned up the dishes, put the bread and other groceries Abby had bought in the small cabinet above the sink, placed the apples in the fruit bowl on the small table, and washed all the dishes so they would be safe to use. I didn't trust the cleaning ladies after staying at a few of the motels we'd stayed in.

Once Abby was dressed and ready to go, we gathered up all of our weapons and took them back to the car. I popped the trunk and stowed everything in it except for the guns.

"How much do you think he'll be able to teach us?" I asked as I drove down the long road that led to Bobby's house.

"Gabs, he's the best around. He's got a lot of experience. I don't think there's anything he can't teach us." Although I knew she was right, I still had my doubts.

Finding the main entrance to Bobby's house from the road was a lot easier during the daytime. This way, we didn't have to take the long way through the car lot. His house looked even more run-down during the day than it had at night. The paint was peeling, the porch was bowing in, and the grass needed to be cut.

"This sure could use some cleaning up," I said.

We parked in front of the house, got out of the car, and walked up to the door. Abigail knocked, but Bobby didn't answer. An intense, prickly feeling made its way up my spine. I searched for Bobby's thoughts, but none came. "I've got a bad feeling about this." Abby's eyes started shifting around.

"I can't hear his thoughts. He must not be here."

She touched the doorknob, then the porch, then the gravel of the driveway. "He's here. Maybe he's just passed out."

"Knocked out? Abby, what if something followed us here and took him?!"

"Gabrielle, do you honestly think the best hunter in the U.S. would get captured that easily. No. He probably went around back to get some work done and fell asleep."

"Okay, we'll check around back but we should definitely go in armed and ready." She couldn't argue with that. We pulled our guns out, took off the safeties, and slowly started making our way around back.

When we were on the side of the house where the car lot was, I tripped on a rock. All of a sudden, something jumped out at me. I shot at it instinctively, hoping it wasn't Bobby. Abby shot, too. And then I realized it was on a string. It was a dummy made of potato sacks, filled with rice, and painted white.

"They're pretty good shots." Bobby had been asleep after all. "Very good," he called out. "For two rookies, that is." We lowered our guns as Bobby walked around the corner. "Did you bring your knives?"

"Naturally," I said. "Was that some kind of test?"

"Just seein' how your reflexes are," he raised his hands in defense. "Sheesh." "But your reflexes do you no good if you're using them on the wrong person. From now on, I'll have these things randomly strung up around the place. For every innocent civilian you kill, you have to do an exercise." "Of course, exercise'll do 'em no good, as scrawny as they are." "When was the last time you two ate?"

So it was noticeable now. "I had two pieces of toast and an apple for breakfast," I told him. He nodded. Abby just shook her head. "Tell him," I resigned.

"I haven't eaten in a couple of days," she admitted.

"A couple of days? And when did she eat before that? I need to get them into better eating habits, too?" He stood there, his hands on his hips. "Alright, look, you can be the best hunter in the world, but it'll do you no good if you're starvin'. Come in and I'll fix you some breakfast." When Abby went to argue, he gave her a look that would make Big Foot cower.

He took us inside, made us sit at the table, and made us yet another breakfast…. Pancakes with syrup, beef sausages, eggs with cheese, and coffee with cream and sugar. It all looked very appetizing, but our lack of appetite made it difficult to get anything down. He wouldn't let us leave, however, until we finished everything that was on our plates.

While we were forcing food down our throats, we asked him his plans for us. "Well, the whole time you're here we're going to be working on toughenin' you up. Gotta get some muscle on your bones and all the jazz. We'll do that during the day. At night, I'm gonna fill your heads up with a buncha lore."

"Yay!" Abby squealed inside, and a little on the outside too. I, on the other hand, wasn't as excited for this part. Abby was the bookworm and I was the talker. It had always been that way. Right as we were finishing up our food and wolfed down the last dregs of our coffee, the phones started ringing. "That's normal," he said. "One day, I'll have to have you two play my secretaries so I can get some work done around here."

"What do you need done?" I asked him.

"Everything," he huffed. "Oh, just some little things. I need to mow the lawn, paint, fix the damn porch."

"Well, we'd hate to blow your cover. Maybe we could do the work on the weekends while you answer the phones."

"Not a bad idea." "You ever fixed a porch before?" he asked us.

"I fixed mine with my stepdad, once. It wasn't too hard," Abby tried to smile, but I could tell thinking of her family made her want to cry.

"Well, if you two do good on your training during the week I might just take you up on that offer."

And so it began. Every day that week we would show up at dawn, eat a large breakfast, and then begin our rigorous training. Bobby would have dummies set up all over the house. We'd have to walk around the perimeter, and when they appeared we'd have to either kill them or save them. The first few days it was hard. Every time we killed a 'civilian' we had to do twenty push-ups, twenty jumping jacks, and twenty sit ups. Every time we didn't get the head completely off the monster, we'd have to do thirty push-ups, lift a few weights, and run a mile around the house.

All the exercise brought our appetites back, and our faces began to fill back in. We'd finish our daytime training, eat a huge lunch, and then hit the books. Bobby made that part easy for us. He'd give us all the important information to memorize, quiz us on it the next day, and if we got something wrong he'd make us do more exercises. Once we finished on the books, we'd eat a decent sized dinner and do something a little less rigorous like help him look up lore for his friends or clean up a little.

We'd started training on a Monday. By Friday we'd gained about four pounds in muscle and an impressive amount of vampire lore. Every night, when we'd return to the motel, we'd pass out right after we finished getting ready for bed. I couldn't make myself stay awake; I was too exhausted. On Friday night, as we were starting in on steak, potatoes, and salad, Bobby told us, "Next week, I'll get you started on guns."

"We already know how to shoot," I objected.

"But do you know how to take any gun apart and put it back together?" he raised his eyebrows. I glared at him, but said nothing. He was right, of course. Neither of us knew how to do that. "Didn't think so. Anyway, I've bought paint for you to paint around the house with tomorrow."

"Sounds like a plan."

"Boy, I really appreciate them doin' this," he smiled to himself and kept eating.

"It's no problem, Bobby," I replied, and realized only too late that he hadn't said it aloud. Bobby glared at me then looked over at Abby. Abby was terrified.

"Gabby!" she screamed.

"Sorry, sorry!" I wished I could take it back, but it was too late.

Bobby didn't say anything else during dinner. After dinner, we cleaned the kitchen and I looked up lore on werewolves while Abby put together some brownies for dessert. All the while, we could hear Bobby going through a list of what I could be in his head. "Nothin' too terribly dangerous… Maybe just psychic or a mind reader. They can't really do much. Either way, they didn't tell me so now I can't really trust any of what they say."

"Congrats, Gabby. We may very well have just lost our best shot at getting revenge," Abby seethed as she mixed the brownie batter.

"So I slipped up once! Give me a break! If it doesn't happen again, he may just shrug it off." I was hopeful, but I knew the chances were slim-to-none.

Even though I'd slipped up, Bobby let us continue our usual routine.

During our second week there, a hunter showed up right as Abigail and I were leaving to go back to the motel. We were just about to open the door when someone knocked. Bobby had trained us for this. We readied our guns and poised our knives before I asked, "Who is it?!"

"Bobby!" the person called. "Bobby, you got a girl over?!" It was definitely a man. He sounded older, and black. "I hope he's willin' to share." I glanced over at Abby and we both rolled our eyes.

"Who is it?" I called back in a more commanding voice. Bobby was standing behind us, watching, making sure we didn't slip up.

"Who the hell…?" the man thought. "Bobby! Open up! It's Rufus!" We looked over at Bobby, who nodded for us to let the man in. When I popped the door open, the man had his gun pointed as well. There was a stare down for a few minutes. I could hear him working out that Bobby was in no danger, that he looked thoroughly amused, and that he should lower his gun. As he did so, we lowered ours. "Bobby, what the hell's goin' on?"

I'd made the right assumption about his looks, aside from a large earring dangling from his ear. Tall, dark, and dressed in plaid like every other hunter ever known to man. What was it with hunters and plaid?

"Rufus, this is Gabrielle and Abigail. They're my hunters-in-training." I was surprised that Bobby was so proud to say that. It made me smile a little, and I hadn't smiled in weeks.

"Bobby," I turned to look at him. "Shouldn't we check him first?"

"Oh, yeah," he piped. "Completely forgot. Not necessary, but it's good they're suspicious." "Rufus, they're gonna run a few tests on you before they let you in. You okay with that?" I was surprised Bobby was giving him the option. Did he really know this man that well?

"And if I'm not?" Rufus asked defiantly. "I ain't a test dummy."

"Then they don't let you in," Bobby shrugged. Rufus ultimately agreed to our tests. We put a few drops of holy water on him, sprinkled him with some salt, and made him produce a shallow cut on his arm with a silver knife. "You can let him in now." Abigail and I stepped aside and let Rufus in.

"Gabby, Abby, this is Rufus Turner. He's a good friend of mine. We've gotten each other out of quite a few sticky situations in the past. You might want to stick around to hear what his deal is. What do ya need, Rufus?"

"Uh uh. I ain't spillin' any information to strangers, Bobby."

"That's okay," I smiled. "We'll see you tomorrow, Bobby."

We said our goodnights and went back to the motel. "He was strange," Abby said. "So defensive. I wonder why."

"All hunters are suspicious," I reminded her. "Especially the older ones. We're only eighteen and we're completely suspicious."

"You're right," she shrugged. "Oh, by the way, great fucking job on screwing up back there!" When Abigail did speak out loud, it was when she was being addressed by someone who didn't know we could talk in our heads or when she was pissed. In this instance, she was pissed enough to speak aloud and to hit me hard enough on the arm to leave a bruise.

"Sorry!" I squealed. "It won't happen again."

"You're damn right it won't!" she seethed and climbed into bed. "If you screw up again and he says something, I'm throwing you under the bus." I knew she was over exaggerating, but she was still angry. I climbed into the bed next to hers, put my knife on the bedside table, and fell asleep almost instantly.

The weekend work that Abigail and I did was a hell of a lot easier than the work we did during the week. Once the house was painted, pressure washed, the porch was fixed, and the grass was cut, Bobby's house looked kind of cute. Subsequently, since the housework was getting done, Bobby could help Rufus with his case better. Rufus was hunting a Rugaru one state over.

Rufus didn't like me or Abigail very much at all. Then again, it didn't seem like he liked anybody, including Bobby. He wouldn't let anyone help with the lore besides Bobby. Even for a hunter, he was extremely suspicious. It was kind of annoying. Either way, I'd be glad when he left.

Ever since I'd slipped up, Bobby was trying to get me to do it again. I'd hear him call out my name in his head in the hopes that I would respond. I was no idiot, however, and I waited for him to call me aloud. I wasn't going to blow my cover and have him try to shoot me. There was too much to be done. And besides that, I liked Bobby Singer. He was generally a good guy who tried to help out his fellow hunters as much as he could.

By the third week of our training, everything was getting a lot easier. On top of our usual routine of 'save the civilian, kill the monster' training, Bobby taught us how to fight with our hands. He also started us on learning about guns, how to make salt-filled shells for shotguns, and how to clean guns.

At this point, our bodies had changed completely. We were so much leaner that our clothes had stopped fitting. A shopping trip was in order, as soon as Bobby taught us how to hustle pool and poker a little better. We had muscles in places we'd never seen before. I'd only ever seen women with muscles like ours in movies. I was completely surprised at how quickly the change had happened. Maybe it was because we did it every single day.

On the fifth day of Rufus' stay, Abby and I were practicing our boxing when he decided to finally go after the Rugaru. Rugarus, as we'd learned, were creatures that lived normal human lives until all of a sudden their appetite spiked until only raw human flesh would satiate their hunger. After they ate their first bit of human flesh, they transformed into a monster. The only way to kill them was to set them ablaze.

"You sure you don't want me to go with ya?" Bobby asked him as he walked him out.

"No, that's alright, Bobby. I can handle one little Rugaru." "Don't need no damn help."

"Alright," Bobby shrugged. "Gabby, bend your knees a little more!"

I bent my knees down a little more and said to Abby, "I hate how rude Rufus is to Bobby, even after Bobby does all this stuff for him."

"I know," she sighed. "But what can we do? I'm sure that's not the worst he's been treated."

"I'm sure it's not, but Rufus is supposed to be his friend."

"You don't have friends in this profession, remember?" she said, quoting Bobby.

I shook my head and took a swing at her, which she blocked perfectly. "Bobby said he's known Rufus for years. You would think Rufus would treat him better. Especially since Bobby helps him with all that lore."

"That's just the way it is, Gabby. Bobby will always be under appreciated. The only thing we can do is appreciate him more than anyone else."

That part, she was completely right about. We owed Bobby for all the things he was doing for us. I hoped one day, I could return the favor. She swung a hard left at me. I ducked to dodge it and jabbed back, hitting her in the ribs. We weren't hitting hard enough to really hurt each other, but we knew how to.

Vaguely I wondered what my parents would say if they could see me like this, learning to fight. My mother had always hated the idea of fighting. "What's the point in fighting when you can use your words? You wouldn't want someone to hit you, so why hit them?"

"Don't think about it, Gabby," Abby reminded me.

"What do you mean, he's missing?" We could hear Bobby on the phone from outside. "Dean, have you tried calling him?"

"Yeah, Bobby, I have. I'm going to get Sam and we're going to look for him."

"Sam? Do you think Sam will really go with you? I think he made it pretty clear he wants nothin' to do with the 'family business' anymore. Besides, your daddy don't go missin' unless he don't wanna be found. Either he's hiding from you, or he's dead."

"He's not dead. I'll find him."

"Alright. Keep me posted, I guess." "I can't let those girls get involved in this," Bobby thought to himself after he hung up the phone. "John was goin' after that demon. This could get nasty."

Abigail and I looked at each other woefully as Bobby came outside, clutching a piece of paper. "I hate to see 'em leave, but… Missouri'll take care of 'em."

"What's wrong, Bobby?" I asked him, knowing exactly what he was about to do. What were we going to do? Go off and face the vamps? We weren't ready. We needed Bobby's help.

"You two have gotten real far in the past few weeks. I figure I can't teach ya much more. I'm sendin' you to a friend in Lawrence, Kansas. Her name's Missouri. She can teach you more than I can now." He handed me the slip of paper with the person's address on it.

I glared up at him. "Bobby, we may be young but we're not idiots. What's going on?"

"I know ya ain't. I just have to help someone else now. You two came, you didn't need as much help as many other people. You already had quite a bit of know-how. Missouri can help you with all the stuff I can't. Things are about to get real crazy around here, and I want you two to be able to learn as much as you can before you get pulled into this crap."

"Alright," I sighed. I knew he was being honest with us. "Thank you, Bobby, for all your help."

"No problem. Just sorry I can't keep ya around to do the yard work." I smiled a little. "You keep in touch, ya hear?" Before he had any time to object, Abby and I pulled him into a hug. He hugged us back for a minute before he said, "Alright. Enough with the touchy-feely crap."

We stayed for dinner, at least, before we went back to our motel. Abigail and I packed our things. Our collection of weapons had grown, slightly. We had a shotgun each, with salt shells. We'd added a couple more machetes to our collection, a jar of dead-man's-blood, and holy water…just in case of demons, Bobby said.

I couldn't help but get a bad feeling as we drove away from Sioux Falls. Something in Bobby's head… I knew Abigail had felt it, too. I just hoped that this woman named Missouri would be able to help us like Bobby said she could.