Chapter 3

Grace

The next morning, around eleven, Serra finally decided to join the land of the living. She lifted her head and looked around with her eyes squinted, trying to focus on her surroundings. "Good morning, sunshine," I greeted, staring at the map in front of me. "News announced another set of kills, right off the highway, pretty close to here."

"That's too much information," Serra murmured, laying her head back on her pillow. "Coffee."

"There is none," I said, not looking up. "You'll have to go to the gas station across the way."

Serra turned her head towards me and narrowed her eyes. "I hate you," she said simply.

"Yeah, yeah," I agreed, hearing the same thing I heard from my little sister on a pretty constant basis before coffee. "I love you, too." I continued relentlessly, even though I knew she wasn't really listening. "The coven seems to be centering around the seedier areas of town…lots of dive bars, motels, and trailer parks. The two from last night were right here, next to the train tracks that pass the backside of the parking lot."

"Oh my God, stop talking," Serra said into her pillow, holding her ears closed. "I'm not the one that got laid last night. I only drank."

"Hey, at least they were free."

"There's a reason that bourbon was free," she muttered, still face down in her pillow.

I chuckled and tossed a pair of pants towards her. It landed with a thump over her face and I beckoned with my keys. "Come on little girl," I teased. "You get up get dressed and I'll go find you coffee."

Serra peeked out from her blankets and stared at me from across the room. "Coffee and a bagel," she replied, unmoving.

"Coffee and a bagel," I repeated, reaching for the door. "When you're done, we're heading out to the trailer park. Gonna stake it out for a bit to see if we found our coven."

She mumbled something indistinguishable from the bed and I closed the door behind me. The air was crisp; autumn winds blew orange and brown leaves across the street, along with tumble weeds that stopped me a few times to cross my path without permission. As I reached the corner of the street, I hesitated and looked around, feeling someone watching me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a group of three or four boys about my age watching me from their spot in the gas station parking lot. Deciding to play it off the best way I knew how, I approached the truck and grinned, pulling my hair from my pony tail and shaking out the blonde waves.

"Hi there, boys," I greeted, walking right up to the old Chevy. "You see something you like?"

They were all staring at me before I had finished walking up to the truck and I secretly applauded my outfit choice, regardless of the chilly temperatures. I knew that my two best attributes were in their full glory right now: my shirt was a deep v-neck Indian Motorcycle shirt that Serra had cut apart years ago, making it skimpier than it should have been, showing off my cleavage, and my black spandex pants were hip-huggers that showed off my ass. I could get anything I wanted out of this group of testosterone-filled boys.

"Hell yeah," the tallest one said, leaning towards me. "I see a little of everything."

"Glad I could provide," I replied, tilting my head forward and smiling coyly. "Now, unless you wanna follow me home like a bunch of puppy dogs, maybe you could stop staring. You could give a girl the wrong idea."

"Apologies, miss," said one of the others with a deep southern drawl. He continued mysteriously, "You stay safe out there. We've heard there are some pretty nasty monsters, running around." He tipped his trucker hat, smiling lightly. "We wouldn't want the wrong set of teeth finding that pretty neck."

I was mid-turn, headed back towards the mini-mart, but stopped, almost tripping over my feet. There were only two reasons that he would have phrased it just that way: either they were hunters or vampires. Slowly, I turned back towards the boys that were scattered around the old pickup truck and my senses were overloaded, trying to pull in as much information as I could in the shortest amount of time.

There were four boys in their mid-twenties, two of which had tattoos up their arms. I acted like I was heading back towards the truck to flirt some more, but I used the time to inspect the sigils on their arms.

They were hunters.

"Where are you from?" I asked, standing on the curb.

Southern Drawl jumped down from the truck bed and approached me. I glanced down at his chest and saw immediately that he was packing. "Baton Rouge, Louisiana, sweetheart," he replied. He had an anti-possession tattoo on his shoulder that peeked out from his tee shirt and a pointed star that I didn't recognize. There were a few others that were familiar, but most of them were centered in the hoodoo culture.

"Explains the accent," I said, nodding. "I hope you're loaded with pure silver," I continued quietly. "Seems to me that the coven is at least eight large."

Southern Drawl glanced back towards the truck with his eyebrows reaching his hairline. "You hear that boys? Pretty and packing." He turned back and inspected me once more, grinning. "Where do you keep yours?"

I smiled, crossing my arms in front of me. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"This gentleman prefers brunettes," he replied, shaking his head. "Don't get me wrong, I'd hit that in a hot second," he said, holding up his hands as I raised my eyebrows. "But we're here for the fangs."

"Yeah, so are we," I nodded, sighing.

The other boys jumped down from the truck, approaching me more businesslike. "Who's we?" one asked, standing close to my right side.

"Why does it matter?" I asked, glancing at him, annoyed. "We've got it covered. You can go back to Louisiana." I turned towards the mini-mart and pulled open the door. "Nice to meet you, gentlemen."

Knowing Serra, she must have been watching the interaction through the window of the motel we stayed at, because the next thing I knew, I heard the bell to the mini-mart door ring and Serra got my attention, still groggy and fighting with her hair.

"What?" I asked, approaching her. "I thought I was supposed to bring you coffee?"

"Who are those guys?" she asked, ignoring me. "Why were you talking to them?"

I shook my head. "They're hunters from Louisiana." I clicked my tongue. "What, were you worried?"

"I don't like it when guys circle you," she muttered, flipping her hair to the opposite side of her head. "Gets me all worked up."

"No need," I said, handing her a cup of coffee. "I had them handled, as usual."

She nodded, taking a sip as I put six dollars on the counter for our coffee and bagels. "They're cute," she whispered, leaning towards me. "I like that tall one."

"Which one? There were two tall ones."

Serra shrugged and grinned behind her cup. "Bit of both?"

…

"Did you screw every guy you met?" Sam asked leaning forward. He was holding the baby now, glancing down at her every once and awhile and smiling sweetly at his daughter.

"At least you know she's got a type," Dean added, chuckling. "Mine just fucked a Fed."

Serra and I stared at each other and giggled, covering our faces. "It's going to get worse," I said quietly, trying not to laugh. "So much worse."

Holding up her hands, Serra closed her eyes and shook her head. "I would really like to reiterate that he had a Southern accent. He made me mac and cheese," Serra whined, shaking her head. "He had a pompadour and a beard, for Christ's sake."

Sam's face was red, whether from embarrassment or anger, I really couldn't tell. Either way, I didn't know if I should continue. I glanced at Serra and shrugged. "You wanna take it from here?"

Sighing, Serra shook her head. "I don't know why. Nothing else happened after that."

"Serra," I said, scolding. "Come on. We started this story. We need to finish it."

"Wait!" Dean said, jumping up from the couch and jogging to the refrigerator. "I need another beer," he glanced back at us and raised his eyebrows. "Or should it be something stronger?"

"Not bourbon," Sam said under his breath.

Grabbing the bottle of Jameson from the counter top, he also took the bucket of ice from the freezer and four glasses. "There," he said, setting them down on the coffee table. "Now we can continue."