Chapter Two
Sam's POV
I was glad when A offered to get a drink with us at the local bar and grill. It gave me more time to try and remember where I had seen her before. I wouldn't forget a face like hers. So beautiful but broken and hurt like the face of most hunters who have lost all they have. She hides behind a tough exterior. Sitting across from us now, though, she seems harmless enough.
She swirls her beer around in the bottle before taking a long drink. "Can I get a burger here? I'm starved."
I look at my brother and can almost see the lust rolling in his eyes. "A burger eating girl, huh?"
She nods her head and takes another drink. "With bacon."
If she says she likes cars, this might be it for Dean. I shake my head and take a sip from my bottle. Dean flags down a waiter and I look A over. Her big brown eyes lock on mine and we maintain eye contact for several seconds. It seems she's searching for something as well.
Dean clears his throat, startling us. She looks down at the table and tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear. We hadn't even heard him order.
"So, what does A stand for anyway?" Dean speaks what's on my mind.
She laughs lightly. "None of your business."
"Well if I guess it will you tell me if I'm right?"
She nods. "Fine, that's fair."
He rests his chin on his hand and puts on his thinking face. "Anastasia?"
She shakes her head.
"Amelia?"
She chuckles. "Nope."
"Anna?"
"Uhn-uh."
He pauses, trying to think of more names.
I suddenly remember where I had seen her. "Allison."
Her head snaps up and she furrows her brow. "Yes."
I'd seen her in a vision, back when I had them regularly. I clearly remember the blood dripping from her arms, tears streaking down her face. I look at her forearms now, the weird asymmetrical shirt she wears covers her right arm with a long sleeve, but the faint scars on her left are clearly visible. She follows my gaze and folds her hands on her lap, under the table.
"How'd you know that, Sammy?" Dean pulls me out of my thoughts.
"Lucky guess." I mumble, chugging the remainder of my beer. "Anybody want any drinks from the bar?"
"Long Island Iced Tea." Allison says, finishing her beer as well.
I step up to the bar and the bartender smiles at me. "What'll it be, darling?" She asks.
"A Long Island Iced Tea, two beers, and six shots of Jack."
She nods. "We'll bring it right over."
I head back to the table and see Dean leaning in toward Allison, probably giving her his dark brooding eyes. I call them his 'bedroom eyes' since all he uses them for is to bed women. Whatever he's saying to her doesn't seem to be working.
I take my seat at the table and they look at me. Dean's eyes are pleading. He knows he isn't doing well.
"So, Allison. What's with the weird shirt?" I change the subject.
She smirks. "Do you have a problem with my sense of fashion?"
"I think it's awesome." Dean murmurs. Brown noser.
"It just can't be comfortable hunting attire."
Her eyes sparkle. "Not getting dirty is part of the challenge."
Dean mutters something under his breath that I don't quite catch, but it sounds something along the lines of "make you dirty." I kick his leg under the table and he glares out of the corner of his eye.
"How'd you meet Garth?" I ask, changing the topic yet again.
She smiles, a genuine smile that touches her eyes and brightens her face. "My mother... She was very different from people like us. She knew about monsters and yet she condoned the behavior. She would always say, 'It's normal to them, as normal as our everyday habits.' I never understood how someone could be so okay with those things killing people. They were all around us." She pauses, taking in our reactions. "One night, while I was walking home from the library, a man attacked me. I thought it was one of those things my mother was so fond of. Turns out it was a hunter. He was after my mother and had decided to use me as bait." She could obviously tell we were shocked.
"The man was Garth's father. Garth was around my age at the time. He begged and pleaded for him not to hurt me, to let me go. He didn't listen and that same night he killed my mother. Garth could tell I was different, though, and they took me in. His father raised me alongside his own child. Eventually he let his guard down and started treating me like his own child; violence and all. When we were teenagers, we couldn't take it anymore, so we ran. Last I heard, the man was behind bars for public intoxication and I'm pretty sure for punching a police officer in the face. Neither of us have spoken to him since before we left."
"That is a very intense back story." Dean whispers, taking a swing of his beer.
The waitress brings our drinks and Allison smiles as she walks away. "What can I say? I'm all kinds of special."
