Despite knowing Castiel's power, being away from Rachel was worrying for Sam. He couldn't shake Castiel's look from his mind's eye. It seemed that, somehow, the least likely member of Team Free Will to want a nephilim of Arioch's brought into the world was the one most excited about it. It didn't make sense, but then again, Castiel didn't make sense sometimes. Still, the guilt the angel stirred in him wouldn't settle, another raging storm cell in Sam's already chaotic mind.

"Alright, so we've got a pit of dead sheep and a mostly eaten body of one of the missing." Dean sipped his coffee as they drove back toward town. "And Rachel said there's a guild. We know the sheriff is at least involved, possibly others."

"So the vamps and the rugarus are working together?" Sam asked.

"Seems like it. One hell of a teamup."

"I'm guessing things got little crowded for a town this size, so they have to split the kills to keep things quiet."

"And the sheep are for when things get dry," Dean added.

Sam glanced at Dean. "Why the supplies, though? Why would Randy need them?"

"For those on tap, I figure."

Sam drank some of his own coffee. "I ran into a deputy sheriff last night at the grocery store."

"At midnight? Out of town?"

"I know. It seemed a little … convenient."

"What did he say?"

"He said that some teens spotted Kelly Kipley out by the lake a couple days ago. Including Randy Ferris."

"Sneaky little—"

"We don't know if the deputy is telling the truth, Dean. He could be trying to split our focus."

"You think he's involved?"

"I have no idea. But I don't trust him. Hell, I don't trust anyone here."

Dean pulled up to the main road of town, slowing as he spotted two sheriff vehicles ahead pulling out of the lot with speed, lights flashing. "Looks like we found our first stop," he said, following them.

The drive took them to the lake, pulling up just as the sheriffs were exiting their vehicles. "Hey, fellas," Dean called out, gaining a man's attention. "Agents Russell and Elliott. What's going on?"

Luke looked them both over. "Ah, gentlemen. Good to have you here." He stuck his hand out to Dean. "Deputy Luke Benson. Met Agent Elliott last night." Luke gave Sam a nod.

"Sheriff Ferris isn't coming?" Sam asked.

"He's busy back at the station," Luke replied. "Paperwork and the like. A body was found by a fisherman this morning," he added solemnly. "A woman. Come on."

As Luke took the lead, Dean whispered to Sam, "Paperwork my ass. More like sunlight."

Sam's eyes narrowed as they neared the developing crime scene. He looked at the mauled body laid out on the shore, examining the woman's face. "It looks like Kelly," he said to Dean softly as they squatted down next to her.

Dean took a pair of rubber gloves offered and slipped them on, rotating the body. His nose wrinkled when he saw the sections of missing flesh across the back of her arms, hips, stomach, and thighs. "Damn."

"Body looks to be about a day or two postmortem," Sam noted.

"Looks like the fish got to her," Luke said, lowering to their level.

"Big appetite and teeth for lake fish," Dean replied, looking at the Deputy. "Don't you think?"

"What else would it be?" Luke shrugged. "Nothing in that water besides 'em."

"No larger species?" Sam asked.

"No, sir."

Dean felt the woman's pockets, not surprised when he didn't feel a wallet or ID. "Nothing on her," he said.

"My boys will take a DNA sample and have it sent to your field office," Luke offered. "Might take a week or so for the results if we use the state lab."

Sam swallowed, looking to Dean discreetly at the mention of the FBI field office. "You know, our field office probably won't be any faster than state labs," Dean shrugged. "So long as you keep us in the loop, we can just go that way."

"You sure, Agent Russell?" Luke asked with a focused look.

Dean nodded, smiling. "Positive." He gave Luke a friendly pat on the back. "Now, some business we haven't discussed: Where's the best place to get a couple cold ones tonight?"

Luke grinned. "The Lodge. Brookman's is where everyone goes to have a drink or two. It's got a nice small town feel to it."

"Perfect." Dean nodded. "In the meantime, Agent Elliott and I will be asking some of the locals some routine questions, if that's alright. I'll be needing to include the sheriff's brother in that mix too."

"Understandable, Agent. I'm sure Troy will be happy to accommodate you both." Luke looked between them. "Is Miss Markson off the case?" he asked.

Sam forced his disgust back. "She's working with our field office today on some things," he replied.

"Ah. She sure is a nice gal." Luke shifted his weight, putting his hands in his pockets. "It's likely me just being a bit of a country boy, but I'd keep an eye on her wandering around these parts on her own. With this poor woman, I'd just be worried for her."

"Agent Markson can handle herself," Sam replied, holding Luke's gaze.

"I'm sure she can, Agent Elliott." He shrugged. "Just want to keep an eye out for the gal."

"Are you suggesting your town has more of a problem with predators than you're leading on?" Sam asked, taking a hair of a step closer to him.

The Deputy laughed. "Oh come now, Agent. Now let's not start jumping the gun. All I'm saying is, a pretty gal like that is bound to be noticed. And if there is someone 'round here still, I'd hate for anything to happen to her."

Seeing Sam's anger, Dean gave Luke a friendly smile. "Of course, Deputy. Thanks." With a nod, Dean signaled Sam back to the Impala, turning over the engine once they got in. "Okay, that was obvious," he grumbled as they drove toward Troy Ferris' farm.

"Tell me about it," Sam replied, jaw stiff.

"No, I mean you," Dean corrected. "Shit, Sam. Just go ahead and advertise to all of Cawker City that she's your weakness." Sam remained silent. "Look, I know you're worried about her being with Cas, but-"

"How could I not be?" Sam asked, eyeing him. "For all we know, we just chatted it up with a rugaru."

"Or, he could be a plain ol' human." Dean sighed. "Cas is a pretty powerful angel, Sam. She'll be fine." He looked over to Sam, seeing the worry on his face and in his body. "Send him a text. It'll ease your mind a bit." Between driving, he saw Sam type a quick note on his phone, the relief evident when he received a reply. "So, uh … When did you find out?" he asked, wetting his throat as he focused on the road. "About Rach?"

"After we got back from the bar couple nights ago," Sam replied softly, staring down at his phone as he re-read Castiel's reply:

All is well. Rachel is sleeping and nothing has happened.

"Are you …" Dean paused, trying to select the best words. "Are you sure it's not yours?"

Sam's brow shot up. "What?!"

"I'm just saying … if it was—"

"It's not," Sam replied with a scoff. "We've … used protection."

"It's not foolproof."

"Dean," Sam shook his head, "it's not mine. I highly doubt my sperm would beat a race with a grigori's, if it was even possible, which it's not."

Dean scrunched his nose at the thought. "So, we need to figure out how to kill it."

"Yep. And quickly." Sam's nostrils flared as he played with the hem of his jacket. "I don't know how long of a window we have within the next six months. Hell, I don't know anything about this."

"You're the research king. You will."

Sam kept his focus on the window, watching the open countryside pass by. He never thought his heart could ache as much as it did in that moment. After Jess, he hadn't fully let himself care for anyone. He had been too afraid to, until the tiny little brunette quite literally crossed into his life.

Everything about Rachel drew him to her—her smile, her strength, her intelligence, her wit. It was as if the first time he saw her eyes, a switch flicked on inside of him that he had forgotten was even there. Her touch lit his skin on fire, her scent drove him insane. Nothing compared to the way she felt in his arms, against his skin, and on his lips. Her heart was massive, her head strong, and he had never known a woman who affected him so intensely like she did.

The grass and sky disappeared from view as Sam sunk into his mind:

"Where's Rach?" Dean asked, holding a bottle. His face was streaked with sweat and dirt from the job they just got back from.

"Shower," Sam replied, not looking up from his laptop at the library table at the bunker.

Dean took a long drink from his beer. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Research."

"We just got done a Salt and Burn. Can't you just relax for a minute? I don't know, maybe take your girlfriend out?" Dean grinned. "Or stay in."

Sam's brow rose. "Please don't …" He sighed. "She's tired. I'm tired. And I'm taking her out tomorrow anyway."

"Unless you find a case." Dean strolled over to Sam, who quickly minimized the window he was on. "What's so secretive, Sammy?"

"Nothing."

Dean rubbed his chin. "Dude. You've got a hot little brunette naked in the shower down the hall. Why are you watching porn?" His face wrinkled in disgust. "And why are you watching it out here? For crap sake, do that shit in your room."

Both brothers turned when they saw Rachel standing in the doorway, running a towel through her hair. She was dressed in a pair of cotton shorts and a cropped tee shirt that showed a healthy slice of her stomach. Dean pursed his lips, looking her over. She was attractive, he wouldn't ever deny that, nor was it easy to ignore. He cleared his throat. "He's watching porn," he teased, tilting his head to Sam.

"No I'm not!" Sam shouted, shooting Dean daggers with his eyes.

"Porn," Dean whispered. "Lots of porn. Kinky shit too."

Rachel smirked, blotting her long, dark hair with a shrug. "It's research, Dean," she said. She looked to Sam. "Can't wait to hear all about what you learn, baby." With a wink, she left, adding a bit of sashay to her step, knowing the brothers were both watching her intently.

"Dude." Dean's eyes were glued on the now empty hall where Rachel disappeared. "Marry. Her."

Sam sighed, pulling up the website. "That's the plan." He gestured to the screen, showing Dean the engagement rings he was looking at.

Dean's eyes rounded. "For real?" He looked like a kid in a candy store, his excitement nearly palatable.

"For real," Sam replied. He cheeks hurt from smiling so wide. "I know it hasn't been long, but … I love her. She's the one, Dean. And … hopefully she feels the same way."

"Pfft. That girl is crazy about you. I mean, she has to be to resist me." Dean took a drink. "That one." He pointed to Sam's number one pick.

Sam looked at the intricate ring his brother pointed to. "Yeah. It's perfect." He sighed. "But it's expensive."

"Time to hustle some idiots at pool." He slapped Sam on the back. "After you go consummate the crap out of your relationship."

Sam's brow wrinkled. "Yeah, I'm going to need you to not go there." He looked over at him. "I know it's a bit premature, but I was thinking about asking Cas to be my best man. What do you think?"

Dean eyed him. "I'll kick your ass if you're serious right now, bitch."

Sam smirked. "Jerk."

Sam blinked rapidly, the countryside coming back into view as Dean drove, breaking him from his memory. "I can't … I can't lose her, Dean. Not like this. Not at all."

"We'll find a way," Dean assured, feeling far less confident than he sounded. "She's family. And we take care of our family, right?" He saw Sam nod out of the corner of his eye. "Damn straight we do."

Rachel blinked hard, rubbing her eyes as she focused on her surroundings. It was considerably darker in the motel than it had been, and she knew some time had passed. Her nausea seemed non-existent, which she knew had to have been from Castiel's touch. "Cas?" she asked softly, slipping on her glasses. The room was empty. A new sickness formed in her, her throat suddenly dry as she stood from the bed. Leaving the lights off, she snagged her knife from the nightstand and gripped it tight as she inched near the foot of the bed across from the bathroom door.

She jumped when it opened, immediately pinning the large figure against the wall and pressing her blade against his throat. "It's me, Rachel," Castiel managed, feeling the tension in her fingers as he let her keep hold of him, afraid she would strain herself if he made any sudden movements.

Rachel withdrew the blade, hanging her head as she sighed in relief. "You scared the crap out of me, Cas!"

"Sorry."

Her brow raised. "What were you doing in there? Do angels … pee?"

Castiel laughed. "No. I was attempting to get a text message sent through to Sam, but the reception has been awful. Pretty much non-existent."

"Weird." Rachel folded her knife, tossing it on the bed and selecting some clothes from her travel bag. "Hey, Cas?"

"Yes?"

"Can you go back in the bathroom for a minute?" She showed him the bundle of clothes in her arms, laying it on the bed.

"Of course."

Rachel chewed on her lip as she watched Castiel shut himself back in the bathroom. With a deep sigh, she quickly dressed into jeans, a v-neck t-shirt, and her sneakers, tying her hair up in a ponytail before trying the light. "Cas," she called out, hints of panic tainting her tone, "the lights don't work." She repeatedly flicked the switch, her hand shaking a little.

Castiel came out of the bathroom, trying a table lamp. "No power." His brow wrinkled, trying to turn on the light despite his previous attempt.

Sweat coated Rachel's palms, her heart speeding up as she thought about the possibilities. Snagging her phone from the nightstand, she saw a series of text messages and missed calls from Sam. She tried calling him back, but it gave her an automated message of no connection. "I can't get ahold of Sam," she said, trying to send a text to no avail.

A rumble resounded outside the room from the parking lot. Still, it wasn't the Impala's familiar tone. It was accompanied by rowdy hoots and hollers, whoever was in the car obviously intoxicated or close to it. "She's upstairs, boys," one man said with a cackle.

"Rachel," Castiel said firmly, "get in the bathroom. Now."

"But—"

"Now. Arm yourself and get in the bathroom."

Heart racing, Rachel went to her bag, grabbing her gun and tucking her knife in her jeans. "Cas," she whispered as he drew her behind himself, shielding her as he backed her into the bathroom.

Castiel looked down at her for the briefest of moments; his eyes seemed to pierce through her. "Stay in there, no matter what," he ordered; a shiver ran up Rachel's spine from his dark tone.

"Cas, you—"

"I mean it. Don't argue. Stay inside—I'll get you when it's finished."

Before she could object, Castiel closed the door with his mind, locking it. Rachel shivered, the voices now eerily muffled through the layers of wood. She waited, listening as the owners of the voices approached the room.

"Knock, knock," a male's voice said on the other side, eliciting some chuckles from apparent companions. "Come on, pretty girl. Don't make us ruin this door."

Rachel gasped as the door blasted inward, hearing the cries of men being slammed into the wall by what she assumed was Castiel's power. A slice of bright white light seeped through the cracks of the door. Rachel heard men groaning and the distinct sound of Castiel's wings flapping as the light grew brighter. Shortly after, several punches were thrown, by who she couldn't tell. She only heard the sickening crunch made as fists knocked into skin and bone, over and over until she was sure whoever was out there could no longer be alive.

With suddenness, the room got dark, silence washing over the scene. Rachel clutched her gun, backed into the corner as she listened. She heard footsteps circle the room, but no voices. She was tempted to call out Castiel's name, but remained silent, waiting. The steps grew closer, and Rachel's pulse sped up, dread lining her stomach. Still, her grip was sure on her gun, her jaw set as she readied herself.

The door burst open, Rachel's eyes wide as Castiel's body slumped through the opening. She gasped as she saw his condition. His face was barely recognizable, beaten to almost a pulp, thick smears of blood painting over his skin and clothes. His white shirt was nearly completely red, his nose out of place and his lips parted in defeat. His vessel was demolished.

With a snicker, Deputy Luke Benson stepped into the room, cocking his head to the side as Rachel aimed her gun. She saw the carved sigil brass knuckles lining his thick hands. "He was tough, but it's kinda hard to win a fight six to one. Specially with these." He stepped closer, licking his lips. "See, the whole place has eyes and ears, pretty girl. We knew you were in the pavilion. You think we're sloppy? Hell no. We just enjoy the game. It makes your blood race, and it smells so good. It's a rush." He smirked. "Normal investigators … we let 'em go. It keeps it all quiet for us. But hunters? Well, they're the real danger. So we make sure people like you and the Winchesters aren't the only ones with tricks up their sleeves." He laughed as she cocked her weapon. "Your motel manager here gave me a call soon as you checked in. No safe place to hide for your kind."

Rachel fired the gun repeatedly, emptying her entire clip into Luke as he approached. "Oh honey," he said with a smile, "don't you know you can't kill a rugaru with a gun?" She screamed as Luke grabbed her with an unnaturally powerful hand, sniffing her. "Damn. That little thing you're cooking is making you so juicy. Hell, I don't think I can wait another minute to take a bite of you." He ran his hand over her cheek, she powerless to move under his grasp. Leaning into her ear, he whispered, "I'll be sure to let your boyfriend know how tasty you were before I eat him and his brother. My boys probably have them tied up right about now. Sammy will make a nice dessert."

Pain tore through her as Luke fed on her neck, his teeth sinking into her flesh and ripping it from her bones. Her agonized cries were short-lived, her eyes closing as Luke took her life, feasting on her, blood pouring from every inch of her frame.