Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own the show Supernatural or the character of John Winchester.

By the time John returned to the bar's parking lot, the van was already gone. Nell was probably miles away by now, headed for the next out-of-the-way town to hide herself in. John climbed into his pickup and drove to the rundown motel where he'd rented a room. Moments later he lay in the narrow bathtub, letting the steaming water ease some of his aches and pains. With his eyes closed, he looked for all the world like he was dozing, but in reality he was running through the information on the disappearances he'd gathered, wondering if he missed something before.

All of the victims were men. All of them vanished at night, their abandoned vehicles left at the side of whatever back road they'd taken with the keys still in the ignitions and sometimes even he engines still running. There were no signs of any struggles; it was as if the men just pulled over, got out of their cars, and wandered off. Or were lured off.

Some vampire legends included the ability to hypnotize their prey, but John knew that was just one of the many supposed facts that turned out to be a load of bullshit. Still, that didn't discount good old fashioned seduction. She could have stood along the highway pretending to hitchhike and when some unlucky bastard picked her up, convinced him to take a little drive away from the main highway so they could have some private time together.

But why have them get out of the vehicles? And why leave the vehicles behind to be discovered later? And where the hell were the bodies? These questions bothered him, but the one that nagged at John the most was: why would Nell go through all that trouble when she already had a method of obtaining blood that worked just fine? Vampires were like humans in that they were consistent. They didn't switch MO's for no reason.

John sighed in frustration, opened his eyes. He raised a hand out of the tub and stared at the wrinkled skin of his fingertips. He'd soaked long enough. With a loud old-man groan, he reached over to pull the plug, then raised himself out of the tub and grabbed one of the thin motel towels to dry off with. He could tell his right side from hip to knee was going to be one giant bruise in the morning. But at least he didn't break any bones. Or get crushed under a train.

And that was the most damning fact against his theory that Nell was the one behind the disappearances. She'd saved his life. Even after he tried to kill her. All the vampires he had encountered before would have just stood and watched him get shredded. Hell, they would have laughed! They were nothing more than vicious self-serving predators whose only loyalty was to their hives. And yet Nell saved him.

Damn it, he was even starting to think of her by her name instead of just "vampire."

John wrapped the towel around his waist and stepped out into the motel room. He rummaged through his duffel bag, threw on a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt, then dug out the road map he picked up at a nearby gas station. He unfolded the map and spread it out on the bed. He'd already marked the spots where the missing men's cars were found. Their locations were fairly spread out, but they were all on roads that branched out from the main highway, which was why he figured whatever he was hunting would be found on the highway. But what if he got it wrong? What if the highway wasn't the source? John scrutinized the map, the little X's he drew on it with red ink. There was one thing they all had in common, aside from their proximity to the highway; the lake. All of the abandoned vehicles were found within walking distance of the lake. John knew this, but when he heard about a vampire in the area, he didn't give this any thought. Now he did.

Maybe there was something in the lake that was luring these men away. The restless spirit of someone who drowned? Perhaps some kind of water sprite? Whatever it was, it only seemed active at night. John checked the room's alarm clock; only a couple of hours till sunrise. He wasn't in any shape to do much now, anyway. He decided to spend the day recuperating, then go check out the lake after nightfall.

He refolded the map and put it away, got into bed, pulled up the covers, and turned out the bedside lamp.

He wasn't sure how much time passed before he opened his eyes again. It was still dark out; light from the motel's sign shone weakly through the gap in the curtains. John was flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling. Staring at Mary, her golden hair fanned up over her head, her skin deathly pale, blood seeping into her nightgown from the wound on her stomach. Her mouth opened and a desolate whisper emerged, "John..."

He gasped and sat up with a jolt, hissing when the sudden movement caused a flare of pain in his side. He looked at the covered window and saw the curtains backlit with morning sunlight. He craned his neck at the ceiling; nothing but cobwebs and a thin crack wending across like a river's path. John lay back down and rolled onto his stomach, burying his face in the pillow. His shoulders trembled, but there was no sound to his grief.

The day took forever to end. John grabbed a bite to eat at the motel's greasy diner as evening set in. When he was done that last few rays of daylight were fading. He got into his truck and drove onto the highway. A few miles later he took a random turnoff onto a narrow two-lane road. According to the map, it followed along the lake's coastline for several miles; three of the disappearances were on this very road. Odds were whatever was taking these people was more likely to be encountered here.

The lake was an ink-black plain off to his right. Not even the stars reflected off its surface; the sky was overcast with the threat of rain. It would have been easy to believe it was a vast hole in the crust of the earth instead of a body of water.

A light drizzle began to patter against the truck's windshield. John turned on the wipers. No sooner did they clear his view than a pale form slid past the corner of his eye, so brief he almost missed it. John quickly stepped down on the brake and the truck skidded to a halt. He reached out to the seat beside him and picked up his weapons; a sawed-off shotgun full of rock salt and a handgun loaded with silver bullets that had been blessed by a priest. Hopefully, one of these would at least slow the thing down, whatever it was. He stepped out of the truck, walked cautiously around to the passenger side, keeping his back to the headlights so they wouldn't screw up his night vision. He stared out into the dark, looking for some sign of what he glimpsed moments ago. He wondered if he should call out like any ordinary guy would, Hello? Anybody out there?

As if responding to his unvoiced questions, there was a rustling movement just outside the range of the headlights. John took a couple of tentative steps away from the truck, weapons held at his sides. His movements were still a little stiff from his mishap the previous night.

"Who's out there?" He didn't call out, but kept his voice at a normal pitch.

The figure of a beautiful young woman stepped out of the darkness. Dressed in a white gown, long blonde hair wet from more than just the drizzle falling down, her eyes a shade of green so brilliant they seemed to glow. She smiled sweetly. "Hello."

She didn't seem at all fazed by the weapons he was carrying. That alone was enough to make John wary of her.

"You lost?"

The young woman's smile widened. "You found me."

John eyed her clinically. He didn't see the telltale flicker of a spirit willing its image into existence. She looked solid. Probably not a ghost, then. Some kind of creature.

The girl held her hand out to him. "Would you like to see my home?"

Her innocent look didn't fool him. Often the deadliest things he ever tangled with hid their true natures behind sweet faces. John raised the handgun and pointed it at her. "Hows about you come with me instead?"

She tilted her head in curiosity. A sound emerged from her lips, soft and lilting, "Come with me..."

John felt the tug of enchanted longing and didn't hesitate. He pulled the trigger. The girl shrieked, in pain or rage or both, and vanished into the night like a shadow. John ran in the same direction he thought she went, weapons at the ready. A minute later his foot came down with a squelch, cold water flooded his work boot. John yanked his foot back with a grimace. He'd reached the edge of the lake. No sign of his quarry. The drizzle turned into a heavy shower, making visibility even tougher. John squinted at the surrounding dark, slowly turning as he searched. The instant his back was turned to the lake, the young woman leaped out of the water and wrapped her thin arms around his neck. John was yanked back suddenly enough that the guns fell from his hands. He hit the water with a violent splash, going under before he had a chance to take more than a shallow breath.

The lake was cold. It flooded his ears, his sinuses. He thrashed and pulled at the slender arms, but couldn't break free of their inhumanly strong grip. His lungs screamed for air. He couldn't see, couldn't hear anything except that achingly beautiful voice.

"Come with me. Be with me..."

It would be so easy to give in. To rest in her embrace and let the song carry him away. No more fighting, no more killing, no more dreams to haunt him. John's desperate movements gradually slowed as his will began to crumble.

Something impacted on the lake's surface, felt more than heard. Then the arms abruptly loosened and John was free. His survival instinct kicked in once again and he swam upward. His head breached the surface with a loud gasp as he filled his oxygen-starved lungs with air. He heard the sounds of struggling behind him, loud splashes and horrific screeches, but didn't turn to see what was going on. Instead he paddled to the shore as fast as he could where he saw the handgun gleaming dully where he'd dropped it. He snatched it up and spun, aiming it at...nothing. The lake was still. No sign of whatever battle was raging only seconds before. John waited a few tense heartbeats before he started to lower the gun.

A pale figure erupted from the lake, spraying water in a fountain around her. Her long blonde hair hung in limp tendrils, partially obscuring her face. John quickly raised the gun again and fired.

"Aah! You motherf-" Nell doubled over, clutching her chest.

John gaped. "What the hell are you doing here!"

"Saving your ass!" she shouted, "Again!" She straightened and pulled her hands away from her chest, face twisted in a painful grimace. Thanks to her vampire healing, there was very little bloodloss. Nell prodded the small wound with a grimace. "Terrific."

John stormed over and pressed the hot barrel of the gun against her forehead. "What," he snarled, "are you doing here?"

Nell shoved the gun out of her face. "Simmer down, cowboy. Is that any way to thank someone who rescued you from drowning?"

"I didn't ask to be rescued!"

"And I didn't ask for a bullet in my chest, so that makes us even." She gathered up her wet hair and wrung out some of the excess moisture. "And to answer your question, after our little run-in last night my curiosity was piqued. I'll admit my life's been in kind of a rut for the last ten years or so, so I figured I might tag along. I wondered if life as a monster hunter was as exciting as it sounded." She smirked. "Apparently it is."

John stared at the female vampire, incredulous. "You followed me?"

"Not exactly," she gestured towards his pickup, "I hitched a ride in the undercarriage of your truck."

"You-" he couldn't even think of a response. For the second time in as many nights he felt like he'd been put through the wringer. He was in no shape to deal with this bizarre woman, living or undead. John turned and headed for the truck, pausing to pick up the shotgun he'd dropped earlier.

Nell trotted after him. "Are we leaving? What about that mermaid chick? You just gonna let her get away?"

"Mermaids are ocean-dwelling, not freshwater," John retorted, "Whatever that thing is, it's not gonna show up again tonight. It'll lay low till it thinks we're long gone."

"What's to keep her from going somewhere else?"

John didn't bother to respond. He got into the truck and slammed the door shut. Nell hurried over to the passenger side only to find it locked. She tapped the window. John didn't even glance at her. He started the engine.

"Oh, c'mon, man!" her voice was muffled by the glass, "I saved your life and got shot for my trouble. Least you can do is gimme a ride back to town."

John gritted his teeth as his hands tightened on the wheel. He was tempted to just drive off and let her find her own damn way back, but as much as he hated to admit it, she did save his life. Again. He reached over and unlocked the passenger door. Nell clambered in, water dripping from the ends of her hair and soaking into the upholstery. She fastened her seat belt—an odd choice, considering she couldn't possibly die from a collision—then glanced over at John, one eyebrow cocked. "Dude! Buckle up for safety."

John threw her a hard glare, then put the truck into gear and drove off, ignoring the dangling seat belt at his shoulder.

Nell scoffed, "Your funeral." She settled into a comfortable slouch, staring out at the rainy night. "So, what is she anyway? The lake girl?"

"Probably a species of water sprite," he muttered.

"You mean you don't know?" Nell looked at him in surprise. "And you went after her anyway? Damn, I thought you military guys were all about planning."

John's head jerked towards her. "How'd you know I was military?" he asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Nell rolled her eyes and pointed at his chest. John glanced down to discover that his dog tags had slipped out at some point during the scuffle. He scooped them up and tucked them back under his shirt. "I was in the Marines."

"Oh, right! Like that Damon Wayans movie," she lowered her voice to a comical macho timbre, "'We don't plan. We improvise.' You ever see that flick?"

"Do you ever shut up?" Christ, she was worse than Dean. At least he followed orders; if John told him to be quiet, he wouldn't say a word till he got the nod.

"Not really," she answered flippantly, "I'm pretty sure I talk in my sleep, too." She grinned.

Despite himself, John felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth and hastily quashed it. There was no damn way he was letting himself get attached to this vampire. "Soon as we get back to town we go our separate ways."

Nell shrugged. "Fine, if that's how you want it."

"It is."

They rode the rest of the way in silence (for which John was grateful). Dally's Alley was the first place they came across. John pulled up in front of the bar and Nell got out without a word. As soon as he heard the door close he drove off. He didn't even spare her a glance in the rearview mirror.

Nell watched the departing pickup's taillights merge with the rest of the busy highway traffic. The bullet lodged in her chest was a mild irritant, kind of like heartburn. It would take a day or two for it to work itself out of her body. Till then it would be an interesting souvenir of tonight's experiences. Nell smiled. For the first time in a long time she felt a thrill of excitement that had nothing to do with feeding or running for her life. If John Winchester thought she would just meekly walk away after that, he was about to be sorely mistaken.