My Black Dalia

Chapter 2

Dalia yawned and stretched her back when she woke up. Motel mattresses weren't the most comfortable things in the world, but at least it was something. She sat up and ran a hand through her hair, scratching the back of her head. She looked over at the other bed. Sam was gone but he'd left a note on the night table that he'd gone running. Dean was still sleeping on the floor between the beds. She smiled a little and smirked him for a moment. He looked…gorgeous. His hair was sticking up in all different directions and he had a small drool stain running down his chin. But the fun in his hand, resting on his chest was testament to the dangerous man that he was.

She sighed and grabbed her phone. She had a few text messages from her mom. Dalia smiled and called her. "Dalia?"

Her smile grew. "Hi mom."

"Oh honey, I'm so glad you called. How's the hunting trip?"

Dalia switched over from supernatural hunter to regular everyday hunter. "It's going good. I'm actually going out later today."

"That's great news. When are you coming home again?"

She sighed and looked around the room. "I'm not sure." Dean started to take up. "I've gotta go, but I'll call you again soon."

"Okay, I love you baby."

Dalia tried to ignore the pain in her mother's voice. "I love you too." She hung up the phone as Dean sat up and rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes.

"Who was that, your boyfriend?" he asked, voice still gravely from sleep.

"My mom actually." Dalia tossed the covers back and climbed out of bed.

Dean groaned as he stood up and cracked his back. "She knows what you do?"

She laughed a little. "God no. She thinks I'm on a normal hunting trip, for elk."

"Elk?" He smirked and watched her. "So you're a hunter pretending to be a hunter?" Dean laughed. "I'm sorry, but that's hilarious."

"Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up. But she doesn't question me when I ask for a new shotgun for Christmas." Dalia grabbed her clothes and headed for the bathroom. "I'm gonna take a shower."

"Oh, wait." Dean took a step forward. "Can I get in there real quick?"

She smirked over her shoulder at him. I can undress in the shower. Come on in."

Dean groaned and watched her walk inside. She was going to kill him. If he really didn't have to piss he wouldn't go in.

Dalia closed the curtain as Dean walked into the bathroom and smirked. This was interesting. "So," she started as she pulled her top off and threw it over the top of the curtain. "Think we'll get this bastard today?"

"No question," Dean answered.

Dalia turned on the shower and glanced at Dean's shadow. He was watching her. "Good. It's been a long time coming." She started to soap up her body when a very naughty idea popped into her head. "Hey, Dean?"

"Yeah?" His voice sounded strained.

Dalia pulled the curtain back and poked her head out. "Do you mind getting my back?" she asked and had to bite back a laugh when Dean nearly fell over.

"Your back?" Yep, his voice was definitely strained.

"Yeah, please? I still feel gross from that house yesterday." Dalia pulled the curtain all of the way back and turned her back to Dean, holding out the soaped up washcloth. She heard his soft footsteps and then the washcloth slid from her hand. Dean steadied one hand lightly on her waist and she bit her lip when he started washing her back. He scrubbed in gentle circles and Dalia had to bite back a moan when a shiver ran up her spine.

"So, uh, you and your mom, you're close?" he asked.

"We are. My dad left when I was four. It was the cliché he left for cigarettes and never came back." She sighed, rolling her shoulders. Whatever Dean was doing felt amazing.

"How did you end up hunting?"

Dalia looked over her shoulder at him. He was watching his hand as he rubbed the washcloth over her upper back. "I was hunting, actually hunting, whitetail, with my boyfriend. We were, go, fifteen I think?" She sighed. "Anyways, we were tracking this buck. What we didn't know was that something was tracking us. It just, it came out of nowhere."

"What was it?" Dean asked. His hand had moved from her upper back down to the middle and her skin broke out in goosebumps.

"A wendigo." She turned and looked at him again over her shoulder. "That scar that starts on my shoulder and runs down to my hip? I got it that night."

"So your boyfriend?"

"He died. I shot the wendigo, hurt it, and it ran off. I managed to get back home and started researching. Honestly, I thought I was crazy at first."

"We all do at one point."

Dalia shrugged. "Maybe."

"So you tracked the wendigo and killed it?" Dean's hand had moved again. He was running the washcloth over her hip now, right where the scar ended. "I gotta say, that's impressive for your first hunt."

She smiled a little. "I'm a damn good hunter. I've been hunting things since I was eight." She looked back at him again. "After the wendigo I just kept going. At first I'd just take care of things around my town, or maybe a few towns over once I had my license. The day I turned eighteen I lit out and started traveling the country. Killing all of the baddies along the way."

She looked up at met Dean's eyes. He smiled a little and she felt his hand still against her skin. "I uh, I think I got it…your back I mean." He handed back the washcloth but Dalia shook her head. Slowly, she turned around until she was facing him. He bit his lip and his eyes quickly flashed to the wall behind her. "Dalia…"

She reached out and took the washcloth, tossing it to the end of the tub. "Dean."

"We really, really shouldn't…" His eyes kept shifting from the wall to her face and back again. He was trying so hard to be a gentleman.

"We really, really should." She reached out and played with the end of his shirt. "We're hunters, Dean, we gotta take our pleasure when we can." Dalia leaned in, cupped his face, and lightly kissed his lips. "Tomorrow isn't a promise."

He looked at her, staring into her eyes. "Ah, hell. Screw it." He grabbed her face and kissed her. Dalia moaned into the kiss and pulled his shirt over his shoulder, breaking the kiss only long enough to get it over his head. His hands dropped from her face as he hastily undid his jeans and pushed them down, trying to get rid of his clothes that were already damp.

As soon as his clothes were off Dean climbed into the tub and pressed Dalia against the shower wall. She moaned and arched her back, pressing against him as the water rained down on them. He kissed his way down her neck as she ran her hands all of him. Neither one of them wanted slow. They wanted now, they wanted fast.

Dean slid his hands down to her ass and hauled her up. Dalia wrapped her legs around his waist, moaning as his cock rubbed against her pussy. "Shit, Dean. Need you now," she breathed out.

"Don't you worry baby. I got you." He reached down and lined himself up and slid deep inside of her with one powerful thrust. Dalia's mouth fell open on a breathless moan as she arched against Dean. "You're so damn tight," he ground out.

"You're not exactly…inadequate." She ran her fingers through his hair and rocked again him. "Oh, god, your cock feels so good."

Dean chuckled and fisted a hand in her hair, the other one squeezing her ass. "You say the nicest things." He crashed his lips against hers as he thrusted inside of her. She tightened around him, her walls contracting, like her body was trying to milk the orgasm from him. He growled as he slammed his hips forward and his tongue plundered her mouth. She was perfect around his dick. So tight, and wet, and so fucking hot he felt like he was melting inside of her. "Fuck, Dalia. Your pussy's so perfect. Gonna get addicted."

"I'll be your heroine baby." She dug her nails into his shoulders, breaking the skin. The hot little bursts of pain spurred Dean on. He rested his forehead against hers and stared deep into those crystal blue eyes, darkened by the lust and the pleasure coursing through her veins. She cupped his face in her hands as the coil in her belly drew tighter and tighter, a spring ready to snap from the force. "Getting close," she moaned, keeping her eyes locked with his.

He bit his lip, slamming his hips against her. The sound of wet flesh on flesh filled and echoed around the tiny bathroom. "Come for me baby, I wanna feel it." He nipped at her lips, briefly catching the bottom one and pulling, drawing a delectable moan from her. "Soak my cock, let me fucking feel it."

Dalia threw her head back against the shower wall as her whole body arched and convulsed. Her muscles tightened and a silent scream fell from her lips as the floodgates open and her orgasm crashed down on her. Dean growled, dipping his head and resting it against her shoulder. His balls drew up tight with his own release. Three more thrusts and he pulled out, empting himself against the shower wall with a groan, his hands clenching against her skin and scalp.

He panted against her shoulder as he rested her head against his and he slowly lowered them to the floor of the tub. Her nails released his skin, leaving behind half crescent marks that would stay with him for days. He released her hair and wrapped his arms around her waist as he stretched out in the tub and she straddled his hips, keeping his cock nestled inside of her.

"Holy shit," he panted, slowly coming down from the high.

She laughed breathlessly. "You can say that again." Dalia picked her head off of his shoulder and looked up at him. He smirked and kissed her. "We should get out before Sam gets back."

He sighed and nodded. "Yeah." Dean carefully helped her to her feet. They quickly finished washing and stepped out. Dalia picked up her towel and started drying off. Dean wrapped a towel around his hips and leaned against the wall to watch her, arms crossed over his bare chest. "You're so damn sexy."

She smiled and looked over her shoulder at him as she dried off her legs. "I know." She looked him over. "You're not too bad yourself," she said licking his lips.

Dean pushed off the wall and caught her hips in his hands and ground his hips against hers. Dalia bit her lip and arched, moaning softly. "Careful honey, you might get me started again." He leaned down and kissed her shoulder. "We've got a ghost to hunt."

She glared playfully as she stood up and started to dress. "That's just mean." He chuckled and watched her dress. He had to admit, the black skinny jeans and the cups of her lacy deep purple halter top were a huge turn on. He just knew once they were out the door she'd pull on her leather jacket. Once she was dressed, Dean opened the door. Dalia smiled and walked out, running a hand through her wet hair, fluffing it. She stopped dead when she saw Sam at the table, arms crossed. He looked like the father who was catching his daughter coming home after curfew with a boy.

"You two have fun in there?" he asked. Dalia ducked her head and went to her bag for her hair brush. Dean just smirked and grabbed his clothes from his bag. "I'll take that as a yes." He rolled his eyes and looked away from Dean as he started to dress right there at the end of the bed. "I brought coffee and breakfast."

Dalia smiled and sat beside him at the table. "Thanks Sam, and you know, if you feel left out, I don't mind being…shared." She smirked and gave him a wink as she tore into the food he'd brought, forcing herself not to laugh at the blush spreading over his face.

"Alright kiddies, fuel up, then let's go get this son of a bitch." Dean sat down at the table and started to eat. He smirked up at Dalia. "Then, we come back and go at it again."

"Oh, come on, Dean," Sam complained.

Dalia chuckled and took a sip of her coffee. "It's okay Sam, we can get another room. You can have this one all to yourself."

"Thanks, I'll pass." He sighed and rubbed his face.

She patted his shoulder and got up. "I just gotta do my hair, throw on a little eyeliner and we can go."

Dean turned and looked at her. "You're going to put on makeup to go on a hunt?" he asked.

She winked at him. "Just because what we do is a dirty, nasty job doesn't mean I can't look pretty." She smiled and went into the bathroom. She set out her hairdryer and makeup, comb, and a few hair ties. Once she had her hair actually dried she separated the top portion in a Mohawk section and pinned it up. Then, she pulled her sides back and secured them with a small clear hair tie before braiding the part she'd clipped back. She checked both sides of her head in the mirror to make sure everything looked right before she opened her makeup bag and started on her face. Once she was satisfied she walked back out and grabbed her biker boots from the side of the bed. "Let's roll boys."

She grabbed her leather jacket and pulled it on before grabbing her bag. She followed Sam and Dean out of the room and climbed into the back seat of the Impala. "Okay, let's go over the plan one more time before we get there."

Dalia rolled her eyes. "We've been over the plan Dean."

"I know, just one more time." He glanced at her in the rearview mirror. "Just to make sure." She shrugged as she pulled her gun out of her bag and slid the clip out. "Wait, where's your shotgun?" he asked.

"Shotguns are heavy and bulky. I prefer my pistol." She looked up at him and winked. "I've got rock salt bullets that fit inside the clip that I made."

"Huh." Dean shrugged and looked back at the road. "Anyways. We start in the basement and we look everywhere. Top to bottom, every nook and cranny." He looked back at her and felt a sharp pain seep through him. He really didn't like the fact that they were going to use her as bait to pull the ghost out if they needed to. He hadn't liked it before they'd had sex, but he really didn't like it now. "Just…be careful okay?"

She smiled. "I'm not a novice. I can handle myself."

Dean sighed and pulled up to the property and killed the engine. "Let's go bag a ghost." They all climbed out of the car, double checking to make sure they had everything before walking inside of the house. Dalia led them down to the basement. She was sure she hadn't missed anything, but they boys wanted a look through the house. And who knew? Maybe she did miss something they wouldn't.

The stairs to the basement creaked under their feet as they descended. Dean coughed as each step they took kicked up another cloud of dust. When they reached the bottom they broke off to search different corners. Dean kept one eye on Dalia as she bent down to search through an old china cabinet.

She sighed and pulled out a box covered in dirt, spider webs, and other things she didn't want to think about. She flipped open the lid and immediately dropped the box. "Oh gross."

"What?" Dean looked over, a slight edge of panic in his voice.

"Human teeth." Dalia pushed the box away with her gun and looked back into the cabinet. She didn't find much of anything else. Just some of the good doctor's notes. "Anything?"

"No, nothing." Dean walked over, wiping his hands on his jeans. "Sammy?"

Sam shook his head as he joined them. "No." He sighed and looked around.

"Alright, well let's head up to the main floor and give it the once over." Dean headed up the stairs, Sam behind him. Dalia sighed and looked around the basement one last time. Not seeing anything she turned to follow the boys up the stairs. They were already through the door when it slammed shut and Dalia was thrown down half a flight of stairs. She grunted when she landed in a pile of boxes stacked against the wall.

"Dalia!" Dean yelled from the other side of the door. She could hear him banging against it, trying to get it open. "Dalia! Damn it, talk to me."

She got up slowly and drew her gun. "I'm alright!" she shouted back.

"Do you see him?"

"No." She looked around, eyes carefully searching for Billy. A flash of movement to her right drew her eye and Dalia shot.

"Dalia!" Dean called out.

"I'm fi—" she broke off on a scream as Billy grabbed her from behind. He threw her head first into a wall and her world went black around her, her unconscious body crumpled to the ground. Billy stood over her grinning. He picked her up and walked over to a hidden panel in the wall they'd missed when looking and disappeared. As soon as the panel slid shut behind them, the locks on the door slid open and Dean burst through, all but falling down that stairs.

"Dalia? Dalia!" He ran down the stairs, panic sneaking up on him as he looked everywhere. "Damn it!" He picked up whatever was closest and heaved it at the wall.

"Dean!" Sam grabbed his shoulders and turned him so he was facing him. "Look, I get you're worried, but we're not going to be able to save her unless we find the cursed object."

Dean growled and looked around one more time. "Damn it!" He ran up the stairs to start looking. He'd be damned if he let Billy kill Dalia. He didn't bother trying to hide his presence in the house. He tore drawers out, flipped tables and chairs. Sam let him go, it was better than arguing with him and wasting time. With Dean's pace, it took them an hour to search the house. "They're not here!" Dean pitched a glass at the wall, watching the glass shatter.

Sam sighed and rubbed his eyes. There had to be something they were overlooking. He racked his brain for the answer. "Wait a minute." Sam went to his bag and opened it up, pulling out the picture of Billy's burning body. "What if the locals were so afraid of Billy, they dumped his medical tools with his body?"

"Then they would have burned Sammy, they're not the cursed object." Dean was pacing, his jaw clenching.

"Not if they put them with the ashes. Okay, so the story goes that the locals were so afraid of Billy coming back that after they burned his ashes, they buried them in a ten foot grave. What if they put the tools with him?"

Dean smirked. "Sam, you're a genius." He grabbed his bag. "Let's go. The sooner we melt that bastard's tools, the sooner we get Dalia back." He walked out of the door.

xXx

Dalia groaned as she came to. Her head was throbbing and the strain in her shoulders from being suspended from the ceiling by her arms was brutal. She felt the sticky trail of blood down the back and front of her head was a little more than she liked. She'd lost a lot of blood. She lifted her head and looked around the room. The walls were covered in saws, knives, needles, and a multitude of other things meant to cause pain. This really wasn't good.

"You're awake." A young man who looked like he could be Billy Yorke's brother walked into her line of sight.

"Who the hell are you?" she asked, her voice thick.

He laughed. "I'm Billy Yorke." He walked over to a table filled with knives and scalpels. "Well, the sixth generation Billy Yorke." He picked up a long filet knife and admired it in his hands. "You see, the original Billy Yorke is my great, great, great, great, great uncle."

Dalia glared at him as he walked closer with the knife. "So being a sick son of a bitch runs in the family?"

Billy chuckled and shook his head. "I'd watch your mouth," he said calmly before backhanding her, causing her body to spin from its suspension. "See, the story of my uncle was passed down from generation to generation. Father's would warn their sons not to end up like him."

"But you didn't want to listen to daddy." Dalia rolled her eyes. "You psychos are all the same."

Billy glared at her and stabbed the filet knife into her shoulder, tearing a scream from her throat. "I'm going to enjoy cutting you up, bitch." He pulled the knife out and threw it across the room. "I'm going to cut every one of your fingers off, knuckle by knuckle, then, I'll start on your toes. From there? Who knows?"

"You gonna talk me to death first?" she snapped. "C'mon Billy, be a man."

He chuckled and pulled a bandana from his pocket with a knot in the middle. "Oh, I will, Dalia," he sneered, forcing the knot into her mouth and tying the bandana securely at the back of her head. "But not just yet. See, I've dealt with hunters before. Usually just one at a time, maybe two." He walked back over to the table and looked over his tools. "But you, you just couldn't take a hint, and then you go and bring two more hunters with you. Uncle Billy and I don't like that." He turned around, a scalpel in his hand now. "Your friends are out there, looking for my uncle's tools. But they won't find them. I have them stashed away."

He laughed as he drew closer and ran the flat of the blade against her cheek. "So, I'm going to have to go out there and kill them both, or, Uncle Billy will." He laughed and grabbed the front of her shirt, slicing it open with the scalpel. Dalia swore at him behind the gag as he pushed the sides open. "Now, let's see…where to start?"

xXx

Dean wiped sweat from his forehead as he slammed his shovel into the ground. They had to have dug at least ten feet, maybe more, and they still hadn't found the doctor's tools. "Damn it, Sam, where are they?" He looked around and all he saw was dirt.

"I don't know Dean, maybe they're not here." Sam sighed and climbed out of the hole, only to get thrown.

"Sam!" Dean jumped out and blasted Billy with rock salt. "Well, good news is that if he's coming after us, he's not hurting Dalia." He knew that could mean that she was already dead, but he was hoping to have a little faith.

"Let's go back inside, take another look around." Sam picked up his bag and headed back towards the house. Billy appeared in front of them, blocking their path. The boys raised their guns, ready to shoot, but Billy was getting wise. He threw Sam into a tree, knocking his gun into the hole they'd dug. Dean, he threw twenty-five yards.

"Son of a bitch." Dean started to sit up until Billy appeared on top of him and started to push a knife into his chest. Dean groaned and grabbed Billy's wrists, pushing back. He hissed at the blade seesawed in and out of him as they fought for power. "Sam!"

"She belongs to us," Billy growled. "You cannot have her." He grunted as Dean gained a little more ground.

"Sam!" Dean shut his eyes tight when the blade went a little deeper. Sam finally managed to get to Dean's gun and blasted Billy in the back. Dean sighed and tossed the knife away, putting a hand over the wound in his chest. "Son of a bitch. Billy has a partner."

"What?" Sam helped Dean up. "What do you mean he has a partner?"

"I don't know Sam, he said she belonged to them. Not him, them."

"Then where is she?" Sam sighed and looked back at the house. "We searched that whole place. She's not in there."

"Well, we must have missed something, so we look again." Dean grabbed his bag and headed back towards the house. "What I can't figure out is who would be working with a killer like Billy." He rushed back inside and headed straight to the basement.

"Hard telling, Dean. I mean, we have met our fair share of humans that were pretty messed up."

"Yeah, you can say that again." Dean started to feel along the walls, hoping that there was a secret panel that they'd missed. That's when he heard it. It was muffled, like Dalia was gagged, but Dean heard the unmistakable sound of screaming. "Son of a bitch, Sam over here." He started pulling at the paneling, trying to get through the wall. Sam looked around and grabbed a crowbar that was lying in a pile of junk on the floor. Together they managed to get the paneling to slide open. Dalia's screams got louder.

Dean raised his gun as he entered the room. Every instinct in his body was telling him to get the girl and get her safe. But he knew if he went in guns blazing she'd likely end up dead. With Sam behind him he made his way through the door and around a corner, waiting for the big bad nasty to pop out.

They heard laughing. "Uncle Billy's back. That means your friends are dead." They heard a grunt before the sound of a slap followed shortly after by Dalia's muffled screaming. "I'm going to enjoy breaking you."

Dean rounded the corner, gun raised and ready. "Stop right there you son of a bitch." The man turned around. He could have been Billy's brother.

He glared. "You two. You're supposed to be dead!" He threw a scalpel at them that they easily dodged. He seemed to regain his composure. "No matter," he sighed, straightening his shirt. "Uncle Billy!" The ghost of Billy appeared in front of Dean who got thrown into a wall with hanging knives.

Sam lifted his gun on Billy but got thrown too. Dalia glared at the young Billy and grabbed the rope holding her to the ceiling. She'd been saving her strength, waiting for the right moment. When he turned back around, she used what little she had and pulled her legs up and kicked him in the head. He fell back, knocking a table over just as his uncle jumped onto Sam and slashed his bicep with a long serrated blade. She tried to remain calm as she rubbed her face against her arm, working the gag out of her mouth. "Dean!"

He shook his head and looked up. "Dalia! Who's the freak?" He ran over and pulled a knife, ready to cut her down.

She shook her head. "The alter, Dean." She nodded over to the corner with a small table lined with antique medical tools. "The younger one is a human, but you've got to get rid of the spirit." She looked over at Sam as he screamed. "Hurry." Dean swore, but left her hanging and walked over to the table. He grabbed up the tools and ran back up stairs.

"Little bitch!" The younger Billy got up and stalked towards her, a long saw in his hand. "I was going to take my time with you, enjoy it. But you just had to go and piss me off." He swung out with the saw. Dalia managed to get her leg up again. The blade came down across her calf, tearing her jeans and skin. She screamed, her muscles clenching as more blood spilled. She heard the spirit scream as Dean presumably burned the tools.

Sam groaned as he got up, grabbing a knife of his own. "Get away from the girl," he breathed out. He was hurting, Dalia could see it in his eyes. Dean came running back down, his pistol drawn.

Billy glared and dropped the knife, stepping away from Dalia. "You're going to pay for this," he warned.

"Don't count on it." Dean shot him in the heart without blinking and rushed over to Dalia. Sam followed and reached up, cutting the ropes holding her while Dean steadied her body, ready to catch her. Once Sam cut through the ropes she dropped into Dean's arms. He hauled her body close to his and looked down at her. "Are you okay?"

"I'll live," she answered weakly. She'd lost a lot of blood and she felt dizzy. "Could go for a cheese burger and a beer."

Dean shook his head. "Always the smart ass." He cradled her body as he carried her up the stairs and out of the house. "Who was that psycho?" he asked as he settled her in the back seat.

"Billy's great nephew, sixth generation Yorke." She rested her head back against the seat and hissed when Dean wrapped a tourniquet around her leg. She retold the story Billy had forced on her while Sam drove them back to the motel.

Dean sighed and shook his head. "So he thought he'd carry on his uncle's work. That's messed up." He pulled his jacket off and ripped the sleeve of his tee shirt off to press against the still bleeding wound on her hip. That's when it really dawned on them that she was practically naked from the waist up. He grabbed his jacket and draped it across her body as Sam pulled up to the motel and climbed out, walking around to open the door.

Dean eased her into his arms again and climbed out of the car with her and straight into the motel room. "I'm going to go get some food, supplies," Sam said before walking back out and closing the door behind him.

Dean gently laid Dalia out on the bed and went to the bathroom, getting the medical kit from the bag he kept in there. When he came back she'd tossed his jacket onto the other bed and was in the process of trying to shimmy her jeans off. "Hold still, will you?" He sat beside her and untied the tourniquet before gently pulling her jeans off her legs, pausing only to unlace her boots and pull them off as well. "How much pain are you in?"

She smiled a little and rested back against the pillows as Dean took inventory of every single cut and bruise on her skin. "Between one and hit by a train? Hit by a bus." She hissed when Dean started to clean the wounds. "Son of a bitch."

"You scared the hell out of me," he whispered.

All jokes aside, Dalia had been pretty damn scared too. "I know." She sat up and cupped his face, making him look at her. "Thanks for saving my ass." She smiled a little.

He sighed and went back to tending to her wounds. "Yeah, well, someone had to." He smiled a little. Neither one of them really knew what was going on between them. They didn't really want to talk about it either. For now, they were happy to just let things be as they were, to go with the flow. Dalia leaned back and let Dean take care of her. It was nice to have someone to do that for her. She watched him, the unspoken question of what was going to happen in the morning lingering in the air. They really didn't want to answer it.