ooOoo

xXx

The Supernatural characters belong to Kripke Enterprises and the CW, not me. No money is being made from this story. It is for entertainment only.

Blood Trail – Hunting Monsters

Chapter 1

Hunting the Sun

A/N This is the Fourth Story in the "Sons of the Morning" series. The second story is "Walt and Roy get what They Deserve" and the third story is "Hunter's Moon". In this series Sam and Dean have become the kind of creatures that they were trained to hunt. Sam can become a Sphinx like creature based on Maahes, the Nubian war God who was later tied into the Egyptian religious mythos as the son of Sekhmet and Dean has become melded with Tammuz, an ancient Babylonian fertility God who has healing abilities. To find out how this happen you need to read "Sons of the Morning". As long as you accept these beings it is not necessary to read the other stories although there will be mention made of other characters and events from those stories

ooOoo

Sam and Dean stayed at the brothers Montain's house in West Lafayette until they thought that the other Hunters who had gathered for the Festival of the Hunter's Moon had dispersed. Karl and Earl continued to turn away both the local police and the reporters chasing after the story of the 'Winchester Lion', as Maahes was being called in the local papers. The Winchesters were fairly certain that between the newspaper speculation and the T.V. coverage of their escape from the local jail, Hunters would be on the alert, looking for the brothers.

Now, more than ever, they were outcasts from the society in which they had been raised. There had always been whispers about Sam and his supposed psychic abilities and now the Hunters would have even more ammunition for their gossip guns. Dean could hear the bars buzzing in the back of his head. He knew these men and how some of them thought.

There was always the faction that killed simply because a creature was not human; they functioned as judge, jury and executioner on beings who might or might not be guilty of nothing more than simply existing.

There were other Hunters, a very small minority, who thought that Supernatural creatures could be caught and trained like hunting dogs to track down other monsters. They treated the creatures they captured as slaves and beasts, no matter what the level of intelligence may be. Dean could imagine their joy in laying hands on something like Sam.

Then there were the Hunters like Earl and Karl Montain and Silas Mariner and Bobby Singer and Chuck Elbert, who were willing to give creatures like Sam and Dean a chance to prove their worth. These were the Hunters who needed proof before condemning a living creature to death.

Silas had agreed to join them in their wandering. He was young and inexperienced and unfortunately had fallen under Ed Gainer's control for part of his new-born hunting life but both Sam and Dean felt that Silas had potential. The young blonde had already survived a poltergeist attack in his own home and had hunted briefly with the unfortunate Ron in the Kentucky Hills.

There he had learned the hardest part of a Hunter's existence, the suddenness of death and how ugly it could be. He had gone back into the cave in Kentucky to gather and burn all that remained of Ron's body, hopefully putting the man to rest before fleeing to Lafayette. He had performed this ghastly task and been bold enough to enter the cave even after listening to his partner being eaten alive by a creature they had been hunting. His heart was bold and he was open to new ideas.

Now Silas claimed a seat in the Impala.

XXXXXX

Sam and Dean, plus Silas and Karl and Earl were all gathered around the kitchen table. It was early morning and the Winchesters had been hiding out for the past three days. Today they were going to make a run for it and hit the road out of town.

"Where are you guys heading?" Karl asked as he carefully sipped his hot coffee. "Not that I'm going to tell anyone, just thought I'd make conversation."

"We were thinking of Sioux Falls," Dean answered. "That is, we thought about it until I realized that it's going to be winter in South Dakota almost immediately. We were going to take a look at whatever is hunting people in the Sica State Park but whatever it is can freeze its ass off for a couple more months. We'll hunt Sica in the spring after the snow melts."

Sam joined in, "We decided we're going to go hunt the sun; Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, maybe even Mexico. They all sound good. Some dry desert winds and crisp, clear desert nights sound a lot better than snow up to my ass; especially since sometimes my ass is under a tail."

They all laughed and shuffled around. Some went for more coffee. The Winchesters headed out through the connecting door to the garage, carrying their packed duffle bags to the car. There was a sense of movement and imminent departure in the air.

With both the Hunter community and the FBI now on the lookout for the Winchesters even Dean admitted that they were going to have to make at least some effort to disguise themselves. It had been Sam's idea to bring Silas in as a front man. Karl had decided that no one was going to be looking for Ed Gainer's car and had it hidden in his garage right next to the Impala. It took only a couple of minutes to switch the plates on the vehicles.

With Indiana plates and three people in the car the Impala's description was at least modified enough to momentarily cast doubt on the Winchester description. Dean was leaned on by his brother to allow Silas to drive, a sin in Dean's lexicon. Everyone knew Dean didn't let anybody else drive his car, usually not even Sam. There was no way that a 5' 6", baby-faced blonde could be mistaken for a Winchester.

Dean would let the kid drive until they were far enough away from Lafayette to feel safe. That is, if he didn't drive Silas insane first. Sam moved to the back and let Dean have shotgun. That way Sam could stretch his legs out on the seat and research their next hunt and Dean could be in prime nagging position. Sam almost felt sorry for the hell Silas was going to have to endure but consoled himself with the thought that the kid would prove himself if he made it through without attempting to murder Dean .

They took off, heading south, through the stands of tall trees turning colors in the crisp fall air. There was a wind blowing out of the North with a hint of the smell of snow to come. Soon it would be November and all the signs pointed to a cold one this year. The hunting signs and the Farmer's Almanac both predicted a long winter. The Festival of the Hunter's Moon that they had just attended was a celebration of the changing of the seasons. For lifetimes hunters had trusted the first full moon after the Equinox to help them extend their day. They hunted by night to fill the home larders for the winter ahead.

They drove West on the river road paralleling the Wabash River. The historic route lead them in the same pathways that settlers had followed moving into the West when the country was young. Driving the Native American tribes before them European settlers had flooded into the New World through these valleys.

Once an important part of the country's transportation system the Wabash had been navigable and an important part of the Erie Canal system. With the rise of the Railways its locks had fallen into disuse and decay. Beside the waters of the Wabash battles had been fought, the attack on Fort Recovery in 1794, the Battle of Tippecanoe in 1811 and the Fort Harrison Siege in 1812 Battles lost by the Native Americans as they fought for their ancestral lands. As they moved through history flowing on the surface of the Wabash Sam worked in the back seat, planning their trip and their goal.

They followed the river's course and as it turned south, so did they. Dean surprisingly fell asleep in the front seat and Sam was grateful for the peace. Without the background of Dean's muttering buzzing in his ear like an annoying mosquito Sam could concentrate on his research. By nightfall they were already on the Illinois Missouri border and Silas found them a roadside motel.

Dean woke when the car pulled into the gravel lot and Sam knew they were in for it. Dean had snoozed the day away and now he was full of energy. His brother would be looking for action. Sam dreaded just what Dean would find to keep himself amused while Silas and maybe Sam slept.

Stepping out of the car Sam could see the lights of a town just over the hill. The motel was located along the interstate to suck in the travelers and Sam was willing to bet there was a bar nearby for the same reason. He had no intention of letting Dean wander off by himself.

Sam went into reception and claimed two rooms, one for Silas and one for Dean and himself. Handing Silas his key Sam told him he was going with Dean and expect them when he saw them. "You guys sure you won't need me?' Silas asked, yawning and stretching.

"No, don't worry about it," Sam replied. "You get some sleep. We should be able to handle a back water bar."

Dean interrupted, "Who said you were invited, Sam?"

Sam grabbed his lover by his bicep. "If you think you're going out on your own to get into trouble, think again. We go together. I'll watch your back and you watch your mouth."

The two Winchesters left Silas behind and aimed for the lights. As they got closer Sam could see the neon beer sign flashing in the window. The place looked like your standard neighborhood bar, nothing special. "You take me to all the best places," Sam laughed, "Wait a minute; I want to remind you of something."

Sam pulled his brother into a clench then held on and whispered in Dean's ear. "Don't forget who you belong to." He cupped Dean's face in his hands and kissed him thoroughly. He then thrust his hand up his brother's shirt, searching for the place where his bite still remained.

Dean pushed him away. "I know the rules. Don't get grabby. I'm just looking for a couple of beers and maybe some pool."

"And I'm along to see that it stays that way, "Sam answered back. "You have a real talent for trouble."

Entering Dean headed straight for the bartender. "I'll get us some beers, Sam. Find us a booth, could you?"

The place looked like it had grown on the site. The floors were worn with years of foot traffic, rubbing paths into the wood. The windows were crowded with neon signs and advertising and the lights were dim everywhere except directly over the three pool tables in the back. Sam smiled, thinking the place most likely looked like home to Dean.

Dean was leaning back on the bar counter, resting on his elbows with his hands hanging loosely. He surveyed the room, assessing the inhabitants. There were already interested parties ogling Dean's body and Sam marked each one in his memory. Finally the bartender handed over their bottles and Dean made his way to Sam.

"Pretty good crowd for a week night." Dean muttered. "What do you think? I think I might find some pool table action."

"No doubt you'll find action, make sure it's just the pool table. I'll watch your back." Sam slid back in the booth, deeper into the shadow. He had picked this place for the clear view to the tables.

"You going to do some research?" Dean asked. "You left the lap top in the car."

"I said I was going to watch your back and that is exactly what I'm going to do." Sam replied. "We know nothing about this place but I think we might be looking at some long distance truckers here. They aren't known here, they don't know anyone and they are unlikely to be back here again. That kind of set up often leads to a 'what the fuck' kind of attitude. Be careful."

"I'm a big boy, Sam, all grown up." Dean snarled. "I don't need a baby-sitter."

"All I'm saying," Sam snapped back, "is, if there's trouble, I'll be here. Watch your mouth, and be careful."

Dean picked up his beer and casually wandered to the back of the bar. He put his money down on the edge of the pool table and worked his way into the waiting players. He made small talk and laughed at people's jokes and generally made himself agreeable. Sam had often envied the ease with which Dean could infiltrate a group of strangers and make himself at home. It was no mystery how easily Tammuz had been grafted on to his brother's personality.

Sam watched as Dean casually picked his cue and checked it for balance. A female customer had already positioned herself off Dean's shoulder and was whispering in his ear. She was an older, dark-haired woman with experience written all over her face. Dean threw his head back and laughed at whatever she was saying then focused his full attention on the games in progress. She focused on Dean and her hands were already checking out the muscles on her new found prize.

Sam could almost see the wheels going round. Dean measured up the various players demonstrating their skills; he was looking for the fattest pigeon while sipping at his beer and exchanging comments with his brand new lady friend. He could have been born at the side of that pool table.

Sam watched and admired Dean's smooth hustle. Once gaining the table he did the Winchester wobble showing just how buzzed he was. He laughed too loud and his gestures were exaggerated, the perfect picture of a guy just this side of being drunk. He picked his opponent, a guy who looked like a long haul trucker and set up the break for the first game.

Of course, Dean lost the first game along with his fifty dollars. He smacked his female companion on the ass and sent her for another beer. His opponent weighed Deans' supposed skill level and drunkenness and decided to go for it. Another hundred bucks hit the side of the table and Dean made it close but lost that game too. Sucking on his new beer he got loud and pushy, waving around his money and challenging the trucker.

With a four hundred dollar pot on the table the pair began to attract attention. Dean managed to win the game through an apparent series of lucky shots and put on an almost perfect falling down drunk act. Now it was the trucker demanding "double or nothing". Dean stumbled around the table, almost tripping over his own feet.

Sam noticed a variation on Dean's practiced act. The lady friend appeared not to have come to the bar by herself. Another man was pulling at her arm and trying to tug her away from Dean. She was giving as good as she got and pulled her arm out of the guy's grasp but Sam tensed up. These little side plays sometimes could result in disaster. They were one reason that Dean didn't like to hustle without back up. Sam rose to his feet and moved a little closer to the tables under the guise of buying another beer. Once he had the beer in hand Sam stood at the counter leaning on one elbow and watching the play in progress.

Now there was eight hundred on the table and it was time to strike. Dean broke and immediately sunk a couple of balls. The trucker watched him carefully and so did Sam. While Dean was leaning over the table, lining up his next shot Sam saw another guy come over and stand behind his brother and run a hand up Dean's ass. Not surprisingly, it startled Dean and he missed his shoot. His opponent nodded and stepped up.

Sam was noticing that these people seem to take on the appearance of a team, which was odd. The lady friend, the trucker and the guy taking liberties with Dean's ass all seemed to understand each other. It was like watching the steps in a practiced dance. The trucker made a couple of shots then missed one.

Only because he was watching closely did Sam see the lady friend switch Dean's beer for another. Now Sam was on full alert. It looked like Dean's was not the only hustle in progress. Before Sam could even move forward Dean swallowed down half the beer remaining in the switched bottle.

It was only the work of a few minutes for Dean to clear the table and lay claim to the eight hundred dollars. Now was the normal time for the two brothers to get out of town while the mark was realizing that his 'sure bet' had failed. But something was different. Dean was wavering on his feet, as if he was really drunk.

The trucker and the handsy guy and the lady friend all gathered around Dean, making motions like they were trying to hold the drunken guy up. Sam could hear the teeth of their trap closing. The three of them started pushing Dean back; Sam suspected in the direction of a rear door.

He dropped his unfinished beer on the counter and headed for the front door. Once outside he whipped around the side of the building and saw the three conspirators and his brother. The big guy was holding Dean up against his chest and the other two were searching him. Sam know in a minute they would find not only the money but a couple of surprises like the gun in the small of Dean's back and the silver drop knives tied to the inside of Dean's forearms.

Not only that but the guy Sam had named in his head as Mr. Hands seemed interested in removing Dean's clothes. He already had Deans shirt opened and pulled back, restraining Dean's arms and was working on his brother's belt buckle.

Sam felt his Maahes persona awaken. No one was allowed to touch Dean like that. Sam's body began to elongate and his clothes flowed down his suddenly sleak body, his russet fur smoothing the way. His head moved up and he stared into the moon. He dropped to his newly formed feet and walked out of his clothes. Cat eyes blinked in the dark, reflecting the moonlight. He roared.

The people in the alley stopped moving and the big guy dropped Dean's partially stripped body on the asphalt. They could not make out exactly what Sam was but they could see the eyes and they could certainly hear the roar.

They turned to flee but Sam was on them in a minute. He ripped the trucker's jacket from his shoulders and the man fell back then crab walked away. The lady friend was screaming and lost her shoes as she ran. Mr. Hands, however, was Sam's main target.

Sam leaped forward and fastened his teeth in the man's calf. The guy squealed and shouted. Sam thought he sounded like a pig. He could taste the blood in his mouth and he held on and let the man's frantic actions create most of the damage. Even idiots should know that you hold still when a cat bites you, but not this guy. Sam knew either the guy's screams or the woman's was going to attract a lot of attention and he wanted to get Dean out of that alley before the cops showed up.

He regretfully released his prisoner and growled again to get the guy running. Returning to Dean he picked up his brother by his still fasten belt and carried him back to his own clothes. He propped Dean against the wall and transformed into a big naked guy. Rapidly throwing on some of his clothes he found the cell phone and called Silas, praying the kid wasn't already asleep.

Checking Dean's body he saw that the gun was still in place and waiting for Silas to pick up he went down the alley to get the trucker's jacket. It was tattered and torn but the money was still in the pocket and Sam took it and threw the rag away.

When Silas answered Sam asked him to drive the Impala over as quickly as he could and hung up. Scanning the alley again Sam only saw the woman's shoes as evidence of anything that might have happened here other than the ripped jacket. Satisfied he threw Dean's drugged body over his shoulder and went out along the road to wait for Silas.