"Ventura, California Sammy, beautiful isn't it?" Dean asked as he parked his Baby on Main Street.
"Gorgeous," Sam rolled his eyes as he stepped out of the Impala.
"Hey, not only are we hunting together again, but we are also in California still. Beautiful sexy California," Dean trailed off as he eyed a trio of pretty girls walking down the street. In nothing but shorts and a bikini tops.
"Ya, hunting," Sam reminded his brother. He hated how easily Dean became sidetracked by pretty girls. But then again, Dean was sidetracked by girls, cars, sharp knives, demons, anything that would kill him, he loved.
Sam wasn't up to his antics though, only 4 days ago his girlfriend Jessica had died. Died by the hand of a demon, who had also killed his mother and was the cause of all this.
He rubbed his forehead, trying to ignore the coincidences that he had dreamed of the attack on Jessica. Coincidences were never good. That demon wasn't good.
Tsam and Dean were brothers and possibly even orphans now. But more importantly they were hunters. Hunters of Monsters and Spirits and Creatures. After their mother was attacked, their dad had taken them on the road and trained them in everything from tracking to conning to dispersing spirits.
Sam had enough though, three years ago, 19 years after his mom had been killed and he forced into this life, Sam had enough of the killing, lying and stealing. He had fought with his dad and left. Left to go to Stanford and become a lawyer. Marry a pretty girl, have a normal life. But then Dean had come back. Dean with the Impala and Dad missing. After stopping the woman in white, Sam was about to return to normalcy, but then Jessica's blood dripped on his face. Coincidence?
Sam hated coincidences.
"Right," Dean smiled, "What is it again?"
"I think a demon. There have been 16 reports in the past 8 years. All 17 year old girls who vanish for a week at a time and then come back completely different."
"Different how?" He asked as they walked up the street eying for a cheap motel.
"For starters, they all quit their jobs, ditched school and killed their parents. Then they vanished into thin air. Police haven't been able to track down why or anything," Sam explained.
"Any connection?"
"Not that I can see."
They waled up about a block when they came up to Mission bell Motel. They checked in and pulled their bags inside the room.
"Just like old times eh Sammy?" Dean asked.
They had grown up in motels, they weren't pretty or nice but they worked.
"Don't call me Sammy," Sam groaned as he tossed his bag on the bed.
"Whatever man," Dean cracked a half smile, "So who was the last victim?"
"Name's Nessandra Wint. Went out to a car show at the harbor. She was seen leaving but didn't make it back home until yesterday."
"Whoa, car show?" Dean asked, his eyes lighting up, "Like classic cars?"
"Ya," Sam said, reading his notebook, "Ventura is popular for car shows, has about 45 shows a year. Not counting the cruise nights."
"When's the next show?" Dean asked.
"We're here to work. Shouldn't we check out Nessandra first?" Sam asked.
"Sammy boy, you want to find out who she is you go to where she hangs out. You know where that's at? Car show."