Chapter 6: Evil (Is Going On)

"So you two will be sharing the experience together?" the gothic attired young woman with several unfortunate piercings asked them at the reception desk of the nightclub. Her face seemed to be pinched in a permanent snarl or grimace. Balthazar wondered vaguely if this fetish club was really one of those awful pain clubs. He wasn't interested in hitting anyone. It might be that glimmer of angelic belief in him of not hurting the innocent- just the evil. However the concept of the sadistic clubs weren't beyond him. He knew it was mutual fun and yadda, yadda. Except he preferred willing participants in his sexual encounters. Not groveling lapdogs.

"Uh," Sam began unsure. Balthazar moved in with a grand gesture of intimacy for Sam as he took his thick, muscled arm beneath his and snuggled himself into the big lug. "Yes we will, dear." He answered, "That's acceptable I would imagine?"

She smiled thinly at him, her pasty white face shining briefly with a slight beauty as she nodded, "Yes. We prefer couples. It makes it the experience for you all the more comfortable."

She makes it sound like a bloody operation, Balthazar thought dully as he continued to smile coolly at her.

She typed quickly into her computer, before glancing up, "Payment?"

"Of course," Balthazar glanced over to Sam. Sam seemed to bite back the urge to sigh as he grudgingly pulled out his wallet and slipped a credit card on the counter. Their gothic hostess picked up the plastic with red tipped nails and with one fluid swipe, they were in.

She walked toward the closed double doors in the inner entrance. Her long black dress was medieval yet her spiked high heels were not as she strutted to the doors. They opened for her, two large burly guards stood on the other side. "This way please," she said airily.

Balthazar and Sam followed a few steps behind her as the mansion/club unfolded before them. The hallways were lit with torches like from some gothic horror movie.

"She's very, uhm- pleasant," Sam breathed besides him.

"I was going to say French," Balthazar replied drily as he let them be led by the heavily pierced young lady into the darken hallways.

The hallways seemed endless. Its dark corridors led off to different paths and in all unusual directions. One hallway led to a long end of doors while another to a dead end. The place was built to get people lost which was Balthazar's only conclusion as their host led them into a lounge style bar where people seemed to have gathered for a cocktail before strolling off into their assigned room for the evenings entertainment.

Balthazar purred in approval of the risqué bar, littered with beautiful people with expensive taste. "I like this place," he said as their hostess led them to the bar. She held up two fingers to the bartender. The bartender nodded in return and brought forth two green liquor drinks in spiral glasses. Warning bells went off instantly in Balthazar's head. He didn't want Sam to drink anything in here. It was too dangerous.

Their hostess handed them the drinks. Balthazar gladly took his, though he saw the narrow slant in Sam's eyes as he accepted his drink.

"Bottoms up, darling," He cheered his glass with Sam's even though the hunter didn't seemed pleased with the drink in his hand.

Sam stilled on taking a drink, holding the glass in his hand with clear disapproval. "I'm not thirsty."

Balthazar pursed his lips with the glass rim barely touching his bottom lip. He withdrew the glass, which caught the attention of their hostess. She stepped forward, "This is our house special, please." She indicated for them both to drink. "We only serve the best here, but for new clients we serve the rare."

"Which means expensive," Balthazar commented to Sam. Sam still refused to drink. Balthazar smiled thinly at her, "do you mind if I have a word alone with my friend, sweetheart?"

Her face pinched unhappily before nodding icily and returning to the bar.

"I'm not drinking this," Sam whispered quickly the moment she was out of hearing distance.

"Yes you are," Balthazar moved closer, holding the glass in Sam's hand. "We'll drink this together."

"What? Are you insane?" Sam asked alarmed, "what if this is how they get their victims? Drinking some innocent drink that turns out to be laced with god knows what and…"

Balthazar glanced over to the hostess who noticed Sam's aggravation. Balthazar cut him off with his sharp tone, "Enough. I get it. I'm not stupid. But I am an angel. Their liquor won't have an effect on me, Sam."

Sam remained unconvinced.

"Trust me, I've drank more poisonous cocktail-laced drinks to get a buzz than bloody Pairs Hilton. Now please, just go with this. She needs to see us both drink so we can get behind the curtain. This is the incitation, Sam. If we don't drink- we don't get to the next phase."

Sam glanced down at his drink, his dark eyes intent and hard. For a brief second Balthazar saw the fear glimmer from the depths of those warm brown eyes. He moved to him, feeling the absurd need to comfort and reassure. He placed a casual hand on his elbow. "It's all right," he stated firmly. "I won't let anything happen." To you, he thought but resisted the urge to say out loud. It felt too intimate, too… emotional.

Sam cleared his throat and with one swift move, he drank the green liquid, trusting Balthazar. Balthazar quickly followed suit, glad that Sam decided to go through with this. They both knew it was dangerous and probably even reckless but Balthazar wasn't a rebel without a cause. He knew the stakes.

The hostess returned to them with a pleasant smile on her face. "Good, now that you're finished, let me take you to your room for the evening."

They followed through yet another long maze of corridors and hallways. Finally after a few minutes she stopped in front of a darkly lit door and opened it with a set of keys. Balthazar stepped inside first, inspecting the room before Sam went in. The room was rather posh. It had a king size bed with satin red sheets and a glowing fireplace already burning hot for them. It was richly designed with lust on the mind, he thought amusedly.

"Please relax, the experience will begin momentarily." She said breezily.

"Wait, I have some questions. How exactly does this work..?" Sam asked curiously.

She smiled passively at him, "All will be revealed in due time. Wait here while I set up the entertainment for you."

And with that, she was gone. Balthazar heard her soundly lock the door behind her.

"Okay…" Sam said, slightly annoyed. "She's definitely hiding something."

"My guess- daddy issues," he replied sarcastically.

"I'm serious, Balthazar. I don't like this. It's too…" he sighed glancing around the room, clearly suspicious.

"Sexy?" Balthazar responded coyly. Sam's anger rose to his eyes now, spearing him with daggers from the other end of the room.

"Not what I was thinking," Sam retorted.

Balthazar shrugged indifferently as he walked to the side of the bed. He gently caressed the top cover of the satin bedspread. It was silky and smooth between his fingers. He trailed them from the top to bottom, loving the feel and imagining what it would be like to sleep in such heaven.

He gazed up to Sam and noticed the hunter's eyes were locked onto his hand on the bed. Balthazar felt the surge of excitement rush through his body. Sam's eyes were heavy with burning desire which inflamed Balthazar. He breathed through his nostrils, trying to control his impulse to leap across the room and devour Sam's luscious lips right there.

"If we were in any other place than here," Balthazar whispered huskily. His voice low and almost gruff, "Then I would take my night with you, Sam."

Sam's eyes shot to his, alarm spreading across his face, realizing he must have been caught staring. Sam glanced away quickly and walked to the fireplace, his looming figure silhouetted in the firelight.

Balthazar curled his fingers into his palm and squeezed. The building need to taste Sam again was becoming unbearable. He had waited far too long to take what was his.

What was his…? Balthazar hesitated at his own misgiving thoughts. Sam wasn't his. He knew that yet his mind rebelled. Bloody hell, how long had he been walking around with this aching desire which was currently burning a hole through his chest?

Suddenly his thoughts were quickly interrupted as he watched Sam frantically grasped at the wall above the fireplace. His head was titled downwards as if about to be sick. Balthazar began to move to him but in the progress he clumsily tripped over his own feet and fell to his knees.

His brain felt foggy and his limbs heavy as if under water. He reached out to Sam as he watched in horror as his hunter fell unconscious to the floor. He began to feel lightheaded now, drowsy almost. But angels never felt tired. They never slept! Balthazar gripped the end of the bed, fighting to keep his eyes open, fighting the urge to fall into darkness.

"Sam…" he breathed out weakly, blindly reaching for him, wanting to be close. He promised to keep him safe. He promised to protect him. He promised…

The bedroom door swung open then. He glanced up to see their bitch of a hostess walk inside with a heavily tattoo man. She arched a cold eyebrow down at Balthazar. Then she spoke, not addressing Balthazar but the man besides her. Her words were distant, so far off. "They want to be joined. Use him for the connection, he was willing." She gestured to Balthazar.

Balthazar clenched his jaw, painfully gritting his teeth, fighting his own useless vessel.

The tattoo man stepped forward and knelt in front of him, his hands outstretched. But Balthazar couldn't make out a face. Couldn't see past the fog in his vision. He wavered before letting his fingers slacken, the silk bed sheets slipping away as he dropped like a heavy stone to the floor, sleep taking him under.

Dean watched another car pull out from the parking lot. He resisted the urge to let out a frustrated sigh. No sign of activity or even anything remotely dangerous. It was starting to feel like a normal everyday fetish club to Dean at this point. He tried to relax into the tree, the bark digging into his leather jacket. He'd been sitting the dark, damp forest for an hour now- waiting.

Dean didn't usually mind stake outs when he was in his car, enjoying some good music or a hot burger. But at the moment, the cold night air bit at his ears, his nose was frozen solid and the only one keeping him company was the overly quite Cas. Dean absently shifted against the tree. Cas hadn't said a word since they had their little confrontation.

What the hell happened between them? He liked Cas sure, he was a good friend and an even better ally in battle. But he was an angel. And Dean was a human. Angels and humans didn't mix well in his opinion. So whatever glimmer or spark of sexual heat he saw in Cas's eyes, had to have been imagined he repeatedly told himself. Besides- it was Cas! The dorky guy who never been laid in his life. How would he know if he were sexually attracted to Dean anyway? Dean stilled at the thought. Sexually attracted… dear God, Cas an angel of the lord wanted to get the nasty on with him!

He nearly groaned as he let his head fall back against the hard tree. This was not good. Cas was a dude for one and Dean was a dude. No way was Dean doing that with another guy. It was downright unimaginable. He just had to stop seeing him for a bit after this. Let things cool down and settle. He didn't want to lead Cas on or let this continue.

Maybe he could try again with getting Cas a girl? Yeah, they could go to a bar, pick up a few chicks and let one go with Cas… his mind trailed off at the idea. Cas didn't do well the last time they tried this but if Dean explained things better, told him to just keep his mouth shut and not read anyone's mind then the night should go smoothly.

He tried to picture it. A young blond leading Cas into a bedroom, stripping him of his clothes, running her fingers through his soft messy hair, licking the stubble on the side of his cheek, straddling his hips, brushing a hand over his chest… Dean felt the tension between his thighs as an unexpected bonner began to grow. He gasped as excitement filled his entire body and the fantasy in his head changed dramatically. Cas's bright blue eyes shown upwards at his seducer, his mouth agap, his legs parted with a towering erection and his hands digging into the sheets of the bed. It wasn't a woman now that touched Cas. It was him. Dean was standing between Cas's parted legs. It was Dean sucking and biting his neck. It was Dean trailing his hand down Cas's chest, caressing his body with sensual touches. It was him- with Cas.

Dean stifled a groan and buried his hands into his face. Shit, shit, shit, he thought as he resisted the need to shove his hand over his aching cock. Damnit, what the hell? He wasn't supposed to have sexual feelings for Cas! This wasn't like him. He never thought of other guys like that. Yet it was Cas. Cas wasn't like anyone else he'd ever known. Cas was his angel. Cas was his. His stomach clenched and his erection throbbed.

"Dean…" Cas said besides him. Startled, Dean jumped.

"Jesus, Cas… give a guy a heart-attack why don'tcha?" Dean grumbled as the pressure in his pants began to ease.

"Sorry," Cas said in his rumbling voice. "It's just… I saw something."

Dean glanced up at Cas, noticing the intensity furrowed in his handsomely stoic face. Crap, did he just think Cas was handsome? Ignoring his own misguiding thoughts Dean scrambled to his feet and followed Cas's gaze down to the club. There he could see the back entrance and a woman, dressed in all black and heavily pierced, holding open the door.

Dean snorted, "yeah- she's human, Cas. A little weird but still human."

Cas shook his head, "No- not the girl. That," he indicated with a nod as Dean saw a heavily tattooed man emerged from the other end of the forest and walk towards her. Dean stilled. He recognized instantly what they were up against. His heart raced and his blood ran cold. Sam never faced these creatures like he had. They were evil sons-of-bitches that were dangerous as hell.

"We gotta get into that club," Dean breathed out steadily as the creature was led inside by the woman.

Cas shot him a surprised look, "I thought you said Sam could handle himself."

Dean pulled out his pearl handled gun from his waistband, "I was wrong. C'mon," he slowly moved down the hillside to the darken club. Sam was in danger and probably didn't even know it yet. He suddenly hated himself for letting him go in alone. Damnit, he could be reckless sometime, he thought angrily at himself. Now he had to get Sam the hell out of there, save those people if they were still alive and burn the friggin' nightclub down along with the creature inside it.

TBC

**Thanks everyone for all the lovely & totally motivating comments! I'm glad the direction of the story was liked! I also have the next few days off from work & inspiration has struck in full (finally) for the story, which means I've already begun writing! Thanks, seriously for being awesome fans of the story & fantastical comments! **

~kidneythieves