Dean thought that maybe, just maybe, he could get away from his captor if the conditions were just right. She did, after all, have to come into the cage at some point to feed him and empty the bucket she'd supplied for him to piss in. He could slip away from her, lock her up in the cage, and bolt for the door.

It was a simple plan. It wouldn't be hard. He'd just have to distract her a little bit.

Problem was, she wasn't that easily distracted, nor was she that slow. He found that out the first time she did enter the cage. He wasn't prepared for her strength or her speed. He'd forgotten how easily she'd overpowered him before, only remembered after she had knocked him to the floor and pinned him there. No amount of fighting could break her hold. His blows didn't even slow her down. Before he could even register what was happening she had sunk her teeth into his shoulder.

First there was pain, a whole lot of it. It made him clamp his teeth down over a yell and arch his back. He could do little else but ride it through as she tore his flesh and began feeding from the bloody wound. Somewhere along the way the pain gave way to something a little more pleasant, something perversely sexual. He heard her sucking at his throat. He felt her nails digging into his hips as she held him down. His body shuddered against her. The sensations flowing through it were similar to orgasm, but different.

Better.

Ultimately it did trigger a sexual response. He might have taken her, if she'd allowed it, if she hadn't drained him too much to maintain an arousal. Hell, by the time she was done he couldn't keep his eyelids up let alone anything else.

Man...

When it was over he lay sprawled on the cement floor of his cage, weak and unable to move at all. He heard her tidying up around him and let the soft sounds she made lull him into unconsciousness. When he came around again she was there with his dinner. The scent of the food made his mouth water. She'd left him wine, and meat again, barely cooked. She wasn't much of a chef apparently. That made sense.

He lay there quietly until he had regained enough strength to sit up without getting dizzy. She was there, sitting outside the cage on her plastic chair, casually filing her nails. Her lipstick wasn't even smeared.

"Bitch," he mumbled. Slowly, he dragged himself up to lean heavily against the side of the cage furthest away from her. "You could have warned me."

"Do you warn your bacon and eggs before you eat breakfast?"

"That was breakfast?" Dean fingered his neck. The bleeding had stopped. Some sort of coagulant in her saliva? Interesting. "You forgot the maple syrup."

"You are funny. I think I'm going to like having you around for eternity."

"Screw you."

"I might take you up on that," she chuckled. "You'd like that wouldn't you?"

"No."

"Liar. I felt you. You're a horny little bastard aren't you, Dean."

"Maybe, but I'm not a necrophiliac."

Maria leaned forward in her chair and pointed her nail file at him. "See now, that's a misconception. Most vampires are not dead when they're first changed. The true undead are something entirely different, but then you probably know that given your profession. Do I look like a zombie to you?"

Dean had to admit, she didn't.

"We're just damn hard to kill. Our bodies are different, altered. You'll see."

"I'll die first." Dean reached for the cup of wine and drained half of it. It got rid of his shakes, gave him a little more strength. He probably should eat. He eyed the steak dubiously.

"Well sometimes it does happen. Never lasts though. If it's done properly the change will occur whether you're breathing or not. You might want to keep that in mind."

He rolled his eyes toward her and gave her an ugly glare.

"And," she added. "Don't even think your little brother will ever find you. I've lived a long time, and outwitted better, more experienced Hunters than you two idiots many times over."

"Sam's no idiot." Dean frowned. He wasn't an idiot either. Of course he had gotten himself into this idiotic mess, so maybe he was somewhat of an idiot. Okay, maybe not an idiot, maybe just a fool. There, that sounded better.

"Well I suppose if he wanted to he could tap into his psychic powers and hunt you down that way, but like you said, he's no idiot." Maria paused to examine the job she'd done on her nails. "To do such a thing would be like waving a flare around saying 'come and get me' to that demon of yours." She looked up from her hands and smiled at him. "I don't think he'll want to do that, do you?"

"You think you know us? You're wrong, lady."

"Have I upset you, Dean?" She tut-tutted at him as if he were a child having a tantrum. "You didn't seriously think I wouldn't do a background check on my future lifemate, did you? I know all about you. I know all about Sam, your father, your mother..."

"You don't know anything!" Dean hissed.

"You'll forget all about them eventually of course. They'll stop meaning anything to you. I can barely remember my family. That happens when you become so much more than human." Maria got up from her chair and tucked her file into the back pocket of her jeans. "Sammy'll learn it too, Dean." She sidled up to the cage and peered down at him. "You think he'll escape his fate? You're wrong. He'll become one of them, and survive among the victors in this coming war. He'll be safe. So will you. Because when the demons come, it will be the humans who suffer, not us." Her voice softened. "Isn't that what you want, Dean? To be safe? To have Sam be safe?"

The intensity of her gaze alone forced him to answer. He didn't want to, he didn't want to give her any more power over him than she already had...

"Yes," he whispered. "More than anything."

"Then stop fighting it, baby," she purred. "Stop fighting it."