Chapter Seven

"So are we gonna talk about it?" Dean asked making Annie jump when he appeared behind her.

"Not even a little," Annie snapped, trying not to turn around and face him. The last time she'd done that… Annie swallowed hard against the heated memory. She kept her focus on the elegantly dressed crowd and not on Dean and his hands, which she could almost still feel in her hair and which she had kept down. What the hell had she been thinking letting him…wanting him to kiss her? Down that road lay disaster. They both knew it. Yet that didn't stop this energetic pull between them from spiraling out of control.

That's it. Annie thought. It was the fact that they both knew they were completely wrong for each other that intensified the attraction between them. Being drawn to a flame even though you knew you'd get burned. The clichéd bad boy rebel, that women couldn't resist. That's all. There. As long as she kept that in mind, she'd be able to keep the attraction in its place and keep her heart from being broken. Again.

"Look, Annie. What happened was just…I don't want you to think…I don't know…"

"Oh shut up, Dean," Annie pleaded searching for Randall.

"It won't happen again. Just wanted to make that clear. I guess maybe it's been a while-"

"Are you actually saying these words?" Annie hissed, her cheeks burning. Not to mention that her pride was now Swiss cheese. Been a while! Fucking horn dog bastard! But she knew that, Annie reminded herself, forcing down the seething rage churning in her belly. It hadn't meant anything to Dean. Of course it didn't. Dean Winchester didn't do warm and fuzzy. Nor did she want him to. She loved Jack. She always would and she never wanted anything to take away what she had felt for him. Jack's love had been open and good and made her happier than she'd been in years.

That was certainly worth more than some heated fumblings in a motel bathroom with 'Love 'em and leave 'em Dean Winchester'. "Just forget it, okay? I already have." She crossed the floor towards Randall who smiled and asked her to dance. She eagerly stepped into his arms and let him lead her around the dance floor, all the while feeling Dean's eyes on her.

Until some pretty blonde came up to him and turned his attention away. Annie grit her teeth and smiled up at Randall, telling herself that she was glad Dean was no longer visually stalking her.

"So, are you having a good time?" Randall asked, smiling down at her.

"Hmm, what?" Annie asked, distracted. Blondie was trying to get Dean out on the dance floor. Good luck with that, she thought, fighting a grin. Dean would rather stick safety pins in his eyeballs than dance, which was probably for the best since the guy had positively no rhythm. If it weren't for his appreciation for classic rock, Annie would have been convinced Dean was positively tone deaf. "Oh. Yeah. Noted the absence of caviar this time around. Nice touch,"

"Thought you'd appreciate that. You know, Annie. I would really like to see you again. I hope you stay in town for a little while."

Annie fought a pang of nervousness, but forced herself to tamp it down. She was just letting Dean's words get to her. She was certain she had absolutely nothing to fear from Randall. "I would like that too," she admitted. Randall at least, was no threat to her sanity.

"So your brothers…they're certainly protective. I don't think Dean likes me very much,"

"Don't take it personally. Dean doesn't like anybody," Annie assured him.

"Would you like to get out of here for a few minutes?" Randall asked softly. He reached up and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

Annie forced herself to tear her gaze away from Dean and his giggling, blushing bimbo. "I really would." As she followed Randall across the floor, a frission of nervous energy shot down her back as Dean's words came back to haunt her. She really didn't know Randall all that well. He could be the killer himself. She surreptitiously patted her thigh, feeling for the gun filled with silver bullets. She could handle herself just fine. If anything, she was looking forward to proving to Dean that she could hold her own as a hunter. She didn't really believe Randall was their guy, but it never hurt to be safe.

"I got the impression that Dean and Sam were fishing for something the other day. Acted more like cops than over protective brothers."

"I'm sorry. They can be pretty intense. We pretty much have to look out for each other, you know?"

"Your parents?" Randall led her into a small study. Furnished obviously for male tastes with a pair of wooden paneled glass doors that led out to the balcony. A large leather couch ran across the wall. He pointed towards it and poured himself a brandy from the decanter on the desk. "Drink?" he offered.

Annie nodded and then lowered her gaze so he wouldn't see the pain in her eyes at the memory of the mother she had lost and the father who had betrayed her. "They're gone," she replied simply. It would take longer than they had to explain the truth, if someone like Randall would even believe the truth. Hunting was a damned lonely business. But at the same time, Annie found herself wanting to shield Randall, someone who wasn't touched by the crap she had to deal with.

Like Jack? No! Annie inwardly screamed and shuddered.

"I'm sorry," Randall said, he pressed his fingers into the small of her back. His dark eyes warmed sympathetically.

"What about you? I think you said this was your folks' house?" Annie asked, cutting off the direction of her thoughts. She cradled the glass in her hands and took a small sip. The sharp liquid warmed her throat immediately.

"Right. It's been in my family for generations. My parents left it to me when they died."

"No siblings?" Annie asked.

"Nope. I'm the last of us," he admitted. His eyes flickered with sadness.

"Trust me, be grateful you don't have to deal-" she caught herself and covered her mouth with her hand. "God, that's a terrible thing to say. Forgive me,"

He gave her a sad smile. "It's all right. With all due respect if Dean and Sam were my family, I'd feel much the same way,"

She laughed softly and shrugged. "They have they're moments. I'm actually closer to Sam. He's kind of the best of us."

"Really?" Randall asked pulling back slightly in surprise.

"Yeah, we have more in common with each other than Dean…What?" she asked at the perturbed look on his face.

"Nothing, really. I just got the impression that you and Dean were closer."

Annie's cheeks warmed and she swallowed past an uncomfortable lump in her throat. "I'm closer to Sam," she insisted. "We both know what it's like to lose people we love,"

Randall sat next to her, his warm thigh pressing against her companionably.

"Unfortunately, I can relate to that kind of loss. Did your parents die recently?"

"No. I was about 3 when they died. Sam lost his girlfriend a few months ago. My fiancée died around that time as well."

"God, I'm sorry, Annie." Randall pulled back and shook his head. "Here I've been feeling these feelings for you and you've been dealing with such a terrible loss. I hope you'll forgive me,"

Annie's cheeks warmed at his words and her stomach tightened with sensual awareness. Guilt and desire warred with her. Part of her wanted to tell Randall not to say what he was saying. The other part of her wanted him to keep talking, to be honest and strong and lay his cards on the table. Annie closed her hand over his. "There's nothing to forgive."

He slowly reached up and cupped her face. "I know you may not be ready yet but do you think, perhaps when this is over and you work through your grief…Could there maybe be a place for me in your life?"

She wanted to say yes. The knowledge scared her a little. Annie leaned forward and pressed her mouth against Randall's softly, tentatively. There wasn't that frightening rush of sensation like when Dean kissed her. It was very different to kiss Randall, Annie realized, distantly comparing as Randall's mouth opened and he took control of the kiss. There wasn't the comfort and love that she always felt kissing Jack either. It was a good kiss. A kiss with potential and as much as Annie told herself she wanted to move on, she couldn't let this go further.

She pulled back and got to her feet. Randall said nothing as she moved over to the balcony. She took a minute to clear her head as she stared out over the gardens. It was too soon. Randall waited a few minutes before coming up behind her on the balcony. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Sam make his way out to the garden below them. When Annie turned to face Randall she could see the question there in his eyes.

"We should get back," she said.

A few minutes after their return to the ballroom, Sam stumbled into the ballroom, bloody and disheveled. He was hidden enough so that none of the other guests saw him but he caught Annie's eye and waved her frantically over. He pressed a finger to his lips.

Annie moved to turn Randall away from the balcony but he saw Sam.

"Is that blood?" Randall asked moving quickly towards him.

"Wait, wait!" Annie whispered, grabbing his arm. "You don't want to alarm the other guests."

"Good point," Randall agreed. He slowed his steps and tried to appear as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

"I'll get Dean," Annie said turning back to scan the edges of the dance floor. Dean was there by the wall, whispering something into some dark haired girl's ear that was making her cheeks flush pink as she giggled. Annie grit her teeth and tried to keep her mind on what was happening. She walked towards him and poked his shoulder.

No reaction. Dark haired bimbo had his full attention. A primitive part of Annie wanted to punch bimbo in the face and blurt out that the guy currently putting the moves on her had very nearly fucked Annie on the bathroom sink earlier that day.

But they had vampires to kill.

"Dean." Annie poked him again.

Dark haired bimbo tossed her a dirty look.

The bastard actually swatted her away! A more direct approach was obviously needed. She reached for Dean's earlobe and pulled. Hard.

"Son of a-Ow! What the hell is your problem?" Dean snapped grabbing his injured ear.

"There's something you need to see. Now,"

"Uh, excuse us. We were having a conversation," Bimbo scowled stepping between Annie and Dean.

"And now you're not," Annie replied curtly. "Let's go, Dean."

She turned away, fully expecting Dean to follow because really if he didn't she wasn't gonna be responsible for her actions.

When they got out onto the balcony Randall was gripping the edge and fury was coming off of him in waves.

"I tried to follow the guy but I lost him," Sam said wiping his hands on his pant legs as he rose to his feet. He led them down to the gardens where he had covered a woman's body with his tuxedo jacket. Dean leaned down and pulled the jacket off, revealing a very dead twenty year old. The twin holes in the side of her throat were almost undetectable in the mess of blood that was most of the poor girl's upper body.

Annie swallowed against the urge to vomit and squeezed her eyes shut. "Jesus Christ,"

"Did you get a good look at him before he ran off?" Dean asked.

"No but that's just one of our problems. He didn't run off. He ran in," Sam explained.

"What?" Annie asked, a shudder of foreboding shooting down her spine.

"He ran back into the house," Sam repeated in obvious confusion.

"Why would he stick around?" Dean asked.

"Maybe he wants to get caught?" Annie offered weakly. The woman's lifeless dark eyes stared up at her "Could you cover her back up, please?"

"What?" Dean asked.

"She's right," Randall seethed. "He wants to get caught. But not by the police. That son of a bitch. I'm going to kill him,"

"Okay, calm down. We'll call the police and then we'll comb this entire estate for the guy,"

"No. No police," Randall snapped.

"Why not?" the three of them asked in unison.

"He ran back inside cause he's daring me to come after him. He knows I won't call the police," Randall's eyes took on a frightening steely quality.

"Excuse me but I repeat, why not?" Annie asked placing a comforting hand on his arm.

"I'm going to find him and then I'm going to fucking slit his throat."

"Whoa, easy there Randy," Dean said, throwing Sam a worried look. "First we've gotta find him before any…uh…slitting goes on. Sam? You remember anything about the guy?"

"I came out here for some air. I looked down and saw some guy grabbing a woman. This woman," he pointed down at the dead body and closed his eyes briefly before continuing. "It's too dark to be sure but I think he had blond hair. Shoulder length. He was about your height with a slimmer build," He directed this at Randall. "That's all I could tell. He took off too fast when he heard me coming."

"Okay. I think we should split up. We'll grab some stuff out of the trunk," Annie said.

"Uh, no and no," Dean insisted. "Sam and I will grab the guns from the trunk-"

"Guns?" Randall asked in surprise.

"You are staying here with Randy and making sure nobody knows what's going on. If the guests get wind of what happened they'll bolt and our vampire might sneak right past us out the door."

Randall stiffened and his eyes widened. "Vampire? How the hell do you know he's a vampire?" he glared at the three of them, Annie in particular in accusation. "Who are you people?"