It wasn't often I found myself regretting any decisions I made. I realized at a young age that no matter how much you wanted to change the past it was impossible. But as I found myself crashing into the dark ally walls with every high speed turn I took, it was almost impossible to outrun the regret.
Three days previously…
The smell of coffee grounds and the hushed chit chat of locals filled the empty space in the diner. Occasionally the bell on the door would ring as if to notify everyone on whether we were gaining or losing the presence of yet another. The barstool was cold and uncomfortable but more welcoming than the dim, cloudy weather outside. I shivered at just the thought of it as I caressed my cup of warm tea and read the newspaper article in front of me. I groaned as I saw the headline "Local Serial Killer Sucks Blood from Seventh Female". It was exactly the type of headline you didn't want to see when working on a case. Not only would it attract more law enforcement to the area (thinking it was just some human gone nut job, if only) but it also had a chance of tipping off the creature. Whatever it was, it could migrate to a different location or even go into a "hibernation" phase. The media could be a real bitch sometimes.
"Here you go hun!" The waitress interrupted my thoughts as she placed a plate of warm apple pie in front of me. It was the perfect thing to pull me out of my glum mood.
"Thanks!" I smiled back. I picked up my fork and started in on the pie as I skimmed the article. The only new information I got out of it was there were bite marks on the femoral and carotid arteries. I was working on this case for the past two days and the only other information I had was whatever this thing was, it was drinking all of its victim's blood and targeted females. The last thing I wanted to do was talk to the police chief. Word around town was that he was a dick who thought his shit didn't stink.
When I heard the bell on the door ring I automatically pulled my olive green parka tighter around me, bracing for the cold gust of air. Out of the corner of my eye I caught two men in suits sit down a couple stools down from me. My instincts told me they weren't feds, they were hunters.
"Well that guy was a real dick." One of them declared. I grinned knowing they must have talked to the police chief, which meant if I listened carefully I wouldn't have to make the trip.
"I'm just glad that's over," the other one said shaking his head, "After he stopped rambling about his life achievements he did bring up how all the victims were single and the last place they were seen was the night club."
"That would explain the pictures taken at the crime scene. They all looked like the girls in casa erotica…well minus the whole dead part."
"You would notice that." You could hear the annoyance in the second ones voice.
"Hey you can't blame a man for…" he suddenly stopped talking.
I continued to stare down at my paper but I had an overwhelming urge to look up and see what had happened. I slowly peeked around my long, dark brown hair. I was stunned to see a pair of green eyes looking straight into mine. I felt my skin grow warm. I knew this feeling and it terrified me. This guy was dangerous, not to my physical health but my mental health. Something I swore I would never put at risk again. But why was it so hard to pull my eyes away from his?
"Dean, leave the girl alone." It snapped me out of my daze. I whipped my head back to my plate of half eaten pie. I knew if I left now I wouldn't be able to hear more about the case but seconds felt like minutes and minutes, hours. I tried calming down but it was useless, every bone in my body wanted out. I dropped a twenty on the counter, picked up my newspaper, then made a beeline for the door.
I made it to the parking lot when I heard the bell ring on the door. I was pretty sure my heart stopped.
"Hey wait!" The gruff voice of an apparent Dean called out. I was almost at my truck when I felt a hand on my wrist. My self defense kicked in as I dropped my paper, turned around, and planted my foot against his chest, sending him flying into the car next to mine. I was clearly too slow trying to open my door because he had me pinned to it before I reached the handle. I could take down a monster twice my size but a guy who made my knees weak was a whole different story. I looked up straight into his eyes trying to look more brave than defeated, bad idea. When our eyes locked again my brain got all cloudy. He wasn't saying anything, just looking back at me.
"Are you going to say why you chased me out here or are you going to stare at me all day?" I finally managed to speak.
"Errmm right. You left your bag inside. I hope there wasn't anything important inside because I dropped it when you went all Jacki Chan on me." He still had my arms pinned to the car when I felt my sleeve drop. His eyes darted over noticing my anti-possession tattoo on my wrist. He then looked down at the paper which was conveniently open to the article about the dead women.
"You're a hunter?" He seemed concerned.
"Gee, what gave it away?" My voice was coated with sarcasm as I put up my wall.
"Not a friendly one either." He retorted.
"I might be nicer if I wasn't pinned against my car."
"Well you wouldn't be pinned against your car if you hadn't kicked me."
"Well usually when a guy chases a girl outside it doesn't end—"
"Hey, what the hell is going on?" The other guy came running out interrupting our argument. Dean looked from him, back to me.
"Uhh..." he released his grip on me and raised his hands, "It was all self-defense. I swear." Dean looked a little embarrassed.
"Yeah sure. Sorry about my brother, my name is Sam," he held a hand out to me. I shook it sensing he had a genuine niceness to him. "and this is my brother Dean." He motioned towards Dean who had his arms crossed and even seemed to be pouting. Wait, Sam and Dean. I had definitely heard those names before.
"Are you Sam and Dean Winchester?" They gave each other this look then Dean spoke up. "In the flesh."
Damn. Almost every hunter knew who these guys were. Sam wasn't someone I was worried about. Yeah he was Satan's vessel, opened the gates of hell, and at one point didn't have a soul; but that wasn't something that concerned me. It was Dean, Mr. Womanizer. The guy who had all the girls melting in their shoes because he was blessed with amazingly good looks and knew his way around the bed. I knew the type of guy he was, hell I dated that type of guy. Sam didn't scare me. Dean, however, did.
"Well, it was nice meeting you two but I should really be going. I'm working this case in town and I really need to wrap it up." I tried to exit smoothly but that's when Sam spoke up.
"Wait, we didn't even catch you name."
I looked over my shoulder, "Riley McKinley!" then I opened my car door. I should have known it would be that easy when I saw Deans arm shoot up and close the door.
"Woah woah woah, where are you going in such a hurry?"
"I told you, I have to work this case." That obviously wasn't the reason. Every time I looked into Dean's eyes I saw the reason.
"Well if it's the same one we are working on, why don't we work together?" Sam asked. I knew these guys weren't going away anytime soon. And I knew if it was any other case I would have loved the help. I exhaled deeply. "Yeah that would probably be a good idea."
"Awesome," Dean said, "so where are you staying?"
The corner of my mouth tugged down. This was going to be torture.