Chapter Eight
"We sort of…uh, have experience with this kind of stuff," Annie explained, glad it was too dark for Randall to see her grimace.
"What? Are you mediums or psychics or something?" He asked.
"Tell you what, a little less sharing and a little more vampire hunting, okay?" Dean asked. "You two can swap life stories later.
"Fine. I'll get the guns out of the trunk," Annie said walking towards the car before Dean could object again. He stomped after her.
"You need to stay with the other guests. If you and Randall suddenly go missing our blood sucker might know we're on to him and book."
Annie refused to look back at him. She waited for him to unlock the trunk and then started pulling out weapons. A rifle. Pistol. The axe might come in handy too but she could strap the pistol around her thigh and keep it hidden until she needed it.
"Sam is the only one who even knows what our Lestat looks like."
"It's after Randall. Not Sam," Annie finally spoke, hiking up her dress to wrap the strap around her leg.
"Which brings me to my next point. You don't think it's a little strange that his guests are getting knocked off one by one and Randy doesn't want to call the cops?"
Annie's hands stilled. She had wondered about that too but wouldn't give Dean the satisfaction of voicing her doubts. "You're not exactly a fan of the boys in blue either, Dean. Randall wants to get this guy himself. I think I should be the one to help him go after our killer. He trusts me more than you thanks to your constant interrogation and sunny disposition."
Dean was silent and when Annie looked up she realized why. He was focused on her bare leg, her heel propped up on the bumper and dress pushed up past her thigh. She lowered her head, bringing her hair forward so he wouldn't see her blushing. She felt his eyes on her skin like hot fingers and Annie forced herself to shake the sensation off and focus back on the matter at hand. Once the pistol was securely fastened, she put her leg back down.
"Look, I know you're all googly eyed over Randy but can you-"
"Dean, you keep riding me about how I don't have the chops to be as good a hunter as you and dad." Annie shook her head and corrected herself. "John. How I'm rusty and inexperienced. How am I supposed to get better if you keep trying to pull me out of the action? I'm doing this. Case closed." She started to walk past him but he grabbed her arm, halting her.
"No, no no. The case is so not closed," Dean snapped.
Annie's heel turned in a crack in the sidewalk, making her lose her footing and pitch forward, colliding against Dean's chest. His arms came around her and for a few seconds, Annie couldn't breathe, held against to warm solid length of him. The memory of the earlier morning swamped her and her body shivered, betraying her. She wanted so badly to just curl up against him and have Dean hold her and tell her that he didn't regret their kiss earlier that morning; that it had meant something to him.
But that wasn't Dean. And no matter how much she wanted him to be tender and warm, no matter how much she wanted him to let his guard down and allow her to let her guard down around him, Dean was not Jack. She never felt safe with Dean, at least not with her emotions. For once, she wished she could just give reign to the fierce feelings inside of her and not have to feel guilty and afraid all the time.
If wishes were horses…
Renewed hunger blazed in his eyes as he stared down at her. I guess it's been a while…The words came back to her like a brutal slap and Annie stiffened against him. "Guess it's been a while for me too," she sneered jerking out of his arms.
Dean clenched his jaw and she watched a muscle move in cheek. "Right. Well, I'm sure Randy will be happy to oblige when this is all over."
Annie bit her lip and fought the desire to either burst into tears or punch him. "I'm counting on it," she hissed brutally stomping off. God, she didn't mean that. She liked Randall. Even admitted to being attracted to him, sure, but he was still a very big question mark. Annie wasn't sure she could trust him.
"I'll make sure to guard the bathroom door for you two,"
Annie froze. He couldn't have just said that, her heart insisted, though her ears told her the truth of the matter.
She stared down at the dark cobblestones. The streetlights drew soft shafts of shadow in the dim light. When would she learn to stop wishing for things that were never going to happen? Dean was who he was and she'd be a stupid moron to wish he was different. She gathered her strength and forced herself to turn and face him. He looked so cocky and arrogant standing there. Annie almost did punch him. "You're a fucking bastard."
He grinned at her. "That's me, sweetheart."
Annie squeezed her eyes shut and stalked off to find Randall and Sam.
Randall initially hesitated when Annie offered to stick with him to find the killer. "I…It's too dangerous,"
Annie refused to turn around and see Dean's look of skepticism. Her own instincts were enough to tell her that concern for her welfare wasn't Randall's only reason for his unease. "Don't worry. Like I said, we've got a lot of experience with this kind of stuff."
"Uh, no. We've got a lot of experience with this stuff," Dean cut in pointing at himself and Sam. "You've been off playing Suzy Homemaker, remember?"
Annie scowled at him and nearly reached for her pistol when he added, "Since Sam is the one who got a look at Fang-boy, I think you should stick with him. Annie and I will take the other direction."
"I really think I should stick with Rand-," Annie protested.
"Of course you do. Sam, let me know when you find our vampire." Dean lifted his cell phone and pulled Annie off with him in the opposite direction.
"What the-Why the hell-Dammit, stop pulling at me!" Annie yelled furiously as Dean dragged her back into the mansion.
"Look, Sam saw the guy and our vampire seems to be hankering after Randall. You're coming with me. There's a better chance of our finding the guy if we split up. Use your head, would you?" Dean spat reaching for her again but she took a step back.
"You know what? Go to hell. This is not gonna work. I thought maybe for the sake of this job and until we find dad that maybe you and I could get along but for some reason you seem to be determined to piss me off. So fine. You got your wish. You want to keep up the enmity between us, be my guest. Sam and Randall are scoping out one end of the basement. You can take this end. I'll go off on my own and call Sam if I find our guy." Before he could stop her, she stormed down the corridor that led to what smelled like the wine cellar. She heard Dean call her name twice, then curse.
They really did seem incapable of getting along. How sad, considering she remembered a time when she thought Dean hung the moon. Okay, so she was six the last time she felt that way but still, life was so much easier then. Maybe she would do better to go off and find John and the damned demon herself. There was too much…everything between her and Dean. She didn't like herself when she was with him. He made her furious. Constantly. He scared her. Terrifyingly. And she wanted him. Desperately.
Maybe she really should give Randall a chance, Annie wondered as she swept the flashlight through one cellar aisle and then another. Her misgivings were probably just her own mixed emotions colored by Dean's constant skepticism about Randall's motives. The man hadn't given her one reason not to trust him. He had been honest with her, which was more than Annie could say about Dean.
Annie shook her head. She'd done perfectly fine these past years without Dean's perfect judgments of character. Annie gave a snort of derision as she followed the corridor to what seemed to be a dead end. "Well crap."
Then she noticed the gap of light in the middle of the wall. What should have been one solid slab of stone was split in two down the center. Annie reached under her gown and slowly pulled her gun out of its holster and cocked it, just in case. As she got closer, she could hear muffled voices but couldn't make out words. The voices were raised in anger. She gripped one edge of the wall and pulled. It didn't move. Annie took a deep breath and put a little more muscle into it. The stone wall scraped open with a soft, heavy squeak. Annie sucked in her breath and held it as she squeezed past the slim opening. Behind the stone wall was a flight of stairs that led down to an ornately carved oak door.
"A mansion with a secret passage way. Of course," Annie whispered with a surge of nervousness tinged with excitement. She descended and then pressed her ear to the door. The voices were louder now, but still mostly indistinguishable.
Annie crouched down and gripped the golden door handle. It was locked. She pulled out the pin that held one side of her hair up and grudgingly thanked Dean for teaching her how to pick locks. She slowly pulled the door open, gripping the gun tight in her hand. The first thing she noticed was the warmth of the room caused by the dozens of blazing candles spread out across the dim room.
The second was Sam, unmoving and tied to what Annie could only guess was an altar. The third was the crowd of robed figures.
Then there was the blond man who fit Sam's description of the killer vampire.
Bent over him was Randall, axe in hand and bared in anger, his fangs.
