Chapter 2

The next day wasn't as hard as any of them thought. It was actually rather easy getting back into the swing of things.

Sam and Dean woke up early, and did their usual morning routines before packing the car with the weapons and whatever else they felt they would need.

And by late morning, they were out of 'Singers Salvage Yard', and on their way to Chicago Illinois.

A woman named Meredith was found in her apartment a couple days ago, completely mutilated. She was ripped to pieces in her own home with the doors and windows locked. But just the day before that, a man was found in the exact same fashion.

They were thinking it was some standard vengeful spirit or something along those lines.

They'd been driving most of the day with the exception of a couple stops for food. But when the sun started to sink, they had to find a cheap motel to hole up for the night…seeing as it was the third and final night of the full moon for that month.

Once inside the cramped room they shifted quickly, but decided it would be best if they stayed in the room that night, seeing as they were right outside of a big city and two giant wolves running around would look a bit suspicious.

So, in their wolf forms they slept through the night.

The next morning was just as easy as the morning before. They groomed and dressed themselves, and where back on the road in no time.

By the time they got to Chicago it was early in the afternoon. They checked into a motel just inside the city, and brought their belongings in quickly.

Dean decided it would be best to go to the police station and see where the authorities were at with this case so far, so he gathered his keys and left Sam to himself for a while to research.

Sam pulled out his laptop as Dean walked out of the room, and started looking up local sites to see if there was any more news on this case.

Just their luck, there wasn't.

Sam then shut the laptop, and took a seat on his bed.

He couldn't really describe the feeling, but it was almost like a painful twist in his gut every time he thought of the Demon. He knew that it was getting closer and that it was only a matter of time before the thing showed up and killed his family.

But what would it do to him? He couldn't help but wonder.

The witch told Sam that the Demon had marked him somehow, so it saw him as its property or something. But when the witch changed him, the Demon's plan failed.

It no longer had any hold over Sam.

Where that was a good thing, it was also very bad.

But then again, thinking of the witch – another thought invaded Sam's mind. Why was it he was able to change Dean? He didn't get a chance to ask the witch before his father killed her, but it still bothered him - not that he wasn't grateful for a bit of company in this lifestyle, but the thought of how it happened bothered him.

A bite? Really?

It was too simple; maybe she was crazier than he thought.

Sam's thoughts then quickly averted to Jessica, and he felt a pang of sadness in his stomach. He missed her like crazy, and wondered what she was doing right now.

He could always call her, he thought to himself.

But at the same time he knew he couldn't. What good would calling her do? All it would do was fill them both with false hope for his return to her. He wasn't sure he would make it out of this fight.

Last month, after the fight with the witch – Sam told Jessica that it was too dangerous for them to be together. He knew even then that the Demon wasn't lying when it said it would come for them if the witch failed. So Sam and Jessica were forced to part way, much to Sam's dismay.

After a few minutes of Sam's thoughts going into that dark place, his cellphone rang loudly from his pocket – which was enough to startle him from his thoughts.

He pulled his phone from his pocket, and answered it without looking at the ID.

"Hello?" Sam asked tiredly.

"Get dressed," Dean's voice said with a certain mirth that Sam didn't miss, "we're gonna swing by the dead chick's house."

"You on your way?" Sam asked curiously.

"I'm outside." Dean replied.

And sure enough, Sam's enhanced hearing picked up the grumbling sound of the Impala's engine as the car pulled into the motel parking lot.

Without answering, Sam hung up his phone and placed it on his bed as he stood and grabbed the dark blue uniform that lay on his brothers' bed he had laid out before.

Sam quickly redressed himself, and picked his phone back up and put it in the pocket of his uniform.

The uniform was only a disguise as a means to have the landlord let them in to the dead girl's apartment. They were posing as men from the security company.

When Sam was done, he quickly rushed out the front door and hopped in the passengers' seat of the Impala. Dean sat behind the wheel, while the engine was still running. Sam noticed that Dean was already in costume.

Dean pulled the Impala away from the motel parking lot, and drove a couple of blocks before parking in front of a large building, and then cutting the engine.

Sam and Dean then got out of the car, and Dean rolled his eyes as he looked at the apartment complex across the street.

"I'll tell ya," Dean began sounding annoyed, "Dad made it just fine without these stupid costumes…I feel like a high school drama dork."

Sam didn't reply, he only rolled his eyes.

"What was that one play you did? Oh yea…'Our Town'…yea you were good, it was cute." Dean teased.

"Can we focus?" Sam asked irritably, "This is the only way we can get in to see the crime scene."

"Alright, alright." Dean replied with a laugh.

xXx

They talked to the landlord as she let them into Meredith's apartment. She said that the authorities were done with the place so they were free to investigate.

She confirmed that the alarm was on and the doors and windows were locked at the time of the attack. It was a silent attack also, the woman recalled. She said that she never heard anything, she didn't even notice anything until the body started to smell a few days later.

There were no signs of robbery, because nothing was taken or turned over. But Meredith lay on the bloodstained ground in pieces apparently.

Though now, there was nothing but blood splotches on the white carpet.

"In fact if I didn't know better," the landlord told them as she made her way toward the front door to leave them to their investigation, "I'd say a wild animal did it."

She then turned and walked out of the apartment building, before closing the door behind her.

"So what do you think?" Dean asked Sam immediately as Sam crouched down to get a closer look at the blood on the carpet.

Both Sam and Dean smelled the blood and death that surrounded them the moment they were let into the room. It immediately made their stomachs churn in hunger, a natural reaction with the wolf in them.

They suppressed the instinct, and did their job.

Sam took a short whiff of the carpet, and smelled something else. Something he couldn't make out…only because it was almost like whatever this was had no scent.

Well Sam had only ever come across one thing (that was still alive anyway) that could mask their scent. He growled lightly, as he stood to his full height.

"Demon." Sam replied roughly.

Dean looked at him in confusion as his nostrils flared.

"You sure?" He asked with disbelief.

"Yea," Sam replied with an irritable nod, "that Yellow-Eyed-Son-of-a-Bitch is the only one besides the witch who could mask their scent…the only thing I know of anyway."

"But why Meredith?" Dean asked quizzically as he pulled his EMF detector from his pocket and turned it on.

"I don't know." Sam replied honestly, "What'd you find out at the police station?"

"Yea," Dean said as if he were just remembering, "I spoke to…Amy – a perky officer of the law."

"What'd you find out?" Sam asked absently.

"Well…she loves tequila, and I mean –" Dean said with a tiny smile as he remembered flirting with the officer, "Oh and she has this little tattoo, just below her -"

"Dean!" Sam called, cutting Dean off angrily.

"Right," Dean snapped, coming back to the job at hand, "nothing we didn't already know…except for the one thing they're keeping out of the papers."

"What thing?" Sam prodded.

"Meredith's heart was missing." Dean informed knowingly.

"Her heart?" Sam questioned, suddenly confused.

"Yeah, her heart." Dean confirmed, "You sure it's a demon? This sounds more like…werewolf behavior."

"No, doesn't smell like a werewolf." Sam said quickly, "Plus this happened days ago, Dean. You know the lunar cycle doesn't line up."

"But this is the second heart-free victim in town over the last two days." Dean argued.

"Well…guess we're gonna have to do some digging." Sam shot back, "I know what a werewolf smells like…and this isn't one. You're just gonna have to trust me on this."

"Alright." Dean said with a tiny nod.

"This means that the two victims have to have some sort of connection." Sam informed.

"Great." Dean muttered in frustration.

xXx

Later that night, Sam and Dean decided to unwind by having a couple rounds of beer at some bar that was close to their motel.

Well…Dean decided to unwind…Sam brought his research with him.

As Sam skimmed through various newspaper clippings at a table in a far off corner, Dean was at the bar talking to the cute petite bartender with a big goofy flirtatious smile plastered on his face.

After a while, Sam had to start breathing through his mouth because the different scents around him were starting to sting his nostrils.

Dean on the other hand, didn't seem the least bit bothered by it.

Suddenly, something forceful knocked into Sam – causing his papers to fall to the floor. He growled irritably, but thankfully it was too loud for whoever knocked into him to hear it.

The woman who knocked into him was pretty small, actually. She had very short, bleached blond hair, and wore dark jeans with a yellow t-shirt under her red leather jacket.

She put her hands up to her mouth as she turned to face Sam, looking surprised.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" She called to Sam as she bent over to help him pick up his papers.

"No, it's fine." Sam brushed off.

"No, I'm such a klutz!" she said, looking rather red – be it from embarrassment or drunkenness, Sam wasn't sure.

"It's fine, really." Sam muttered with a polite smile as he gathered all his papers off the floor, and from her hands. He then stood to his full height, as did she.

He placed the papers on his table, and extended his hand to the woman.

"No hard feelings," he said with his unwavering polite smile, "I'm Sam Winchester."

"Meg Masters." She introduced herself, as she took his hand.

After a while, they let go of the awkward handshake and placed their hands down at their sides.

Meg took in a deep breath, and smiled back at Sam.

"So what brings you to Chicago? I don't think I've seen you around here." Meg asked, making small talk.

"I'm on a road trip with my brother." Sam replied as he took his seat.

"That sounds like fun." Meg said sounding only a little enthused, "I have some friends over there I should get back to. Maybe I'll see you around, Sam."

"Yeah, sure." Sam replied with a nod, "Nice meeting you."

Meg nodded, and then walked away slowly. Out of habit, Sam breathed in through his nose and took a whiff of the stranger as she walked away from him.

His eyes widened as he stared off at her. She sat down at a table with a group of other people, and every once in a while she would turn to glance back at Sam.

He growled low in his throat, thankful that no one was around to hear it.

Meg Masters had no scent, Sam noticed.

She was officially suspect number one.