Chapter Eight
a/n Okay, I lied. They didn't really get to fight any vamps last chapter. But they got to run one over and kill it! That counts! ...right? *awkward cough* But keep reading! I promise a crazy big fight is coming up!
They parked the cars, and as the boys began to move into the woods, Gabs called them back. "Hold on a sec."
Turning, they found her and Lizzy opening the trunk of the Shelby, and pulling up the cover. The wide area was filled with enough weaponry to occupy Poland, along with all the components to create hex bags and protective hoodoo, voodoo and mojo of every flavor. Plus, something that Dean identified as (Holy shit.) a nuclear grade, handheld rocket launcher. There was far more space in the back then the boys were expecting.
"What the crap?" Dean was drawn back to the vehicle like a moth to a flame. "I thought these things had, like, no trunk space."
Gabrielle grinned. "Normally, they don't. But I made a few changes when I fixed her up. One of them was extending the trunk so that it goes all the way under the rear seats."
"I've been meaning to ask you about that. Don't Shelby Mustang Cobras normally not have back seats?"
She answered with a shrug. "I modified that too, so that Lizzy, me and Aunt Kim could all ride in one car, if we needed to. It's not as spacious as the Impala, but there's enough room."
Dean raised an eyebrow. "Woman, you gotta quit giving me more reasons to ask you to marry me again. And this counts."
Gabrielle didn't respond just turned back to the armory in the car. She and Lizzy pulled out several guns, and held out one to each of the guys.
Sam stared in confusion. "You two do know that guns don't hurt vamps, right?"
"Yeah. They just piss 'em off," Dean added.
Lizzy pulled out an extra clip for each gun, and Gabs smiled, a cruel light in her eyes. "These ones will."
"How?"
"We make our own rounds and figured out a way to put some liquid in them," Lizzy responded, far more calm and focused now that the hunt had officially started. "And these ones are filled up with Dead Man's Blood."
In shocked awe, Dean and Sam checked the reloads, and found Lizzy's words to be true.
"How the hell did you come up with that idea?" Dean asked, holstering the gun and carefully tucking the extra clip in his back pocket.
The boys watched with bewildered amazement as a blush spread over Gabrielle's cheeks. She looked embarrassed, and turned her back to them, searching through the many items stuffed in the car's trunk to avoid their eyes.
Turning to Lizzy, they sent her the exact same questioning squint. She chortled, "Gabs hates explaining it. We got the idea from Underworld."
"The vampire flick with Kate Beckinsale?"
Sam rolled his eyes. "That would be all you remember about that movie, Dean."
His big brother just smirked, unapologetic. "Dude, hot chick who is totally stacked, running around with guns, while wearing skin tight leather? That was the only reason to watch that stupid movie, Sammy."
Lizzy snorted, and their attention went back to her. "Yeah, well, there's this point where one of the vampire mercenaries finds a way to put liquid silver nitro in rounds. And we figured, what the hell, why not? Sure, it's a total Hollywood thing, but if anyone could figure out how to make it work for real, it was us."
Dean was thoroughly impressed, but Sam frowned, considering. "I've gotta admit, this is a great weapon. But do you really run into enough vampires to make it worth all that time and effort. These things can't be easy to make, even now that you've got it all fixed up."
Gabs finally looked back up, a heavy, crescent blade in hand. "We didn't make them for vamps."
"Huh?"
"It's the friggin' Apocalypse, boyos," Lizzy responded, strapping on what appeared to be a pair of sharpened hedge clippers, and what looked like a garrote.
"So?"
Gabs' answer was succinct. "Demons."
While Dean and Sam tried to make sense of that, and the girls packed on and secured more weapons, Lizzy explained in detail. "We've got a ton of rounds filled with holy water. Holy salt water. From the Dead Sea. You think it hurts them when you splash the stuff on 'em? Picture a demon being shot with a bullet loaded with blessed water from an ancient holy place. The holy water gets in their bloodstream. Very distracting for them, and it makes exorcisms a hell of a lot easier for us."
"And it was a pain in the ass to make the damn things in the first place, let alone figure out how to switch out the holy water for the Dead Man's Blood without compromising the bullets. So make every shot count, 'cause this is all you're getting," Gabs added, zipping up her jacket and pulling on studded biker gloves. The outfit wasn't armor, but it would still slow down any cut she took, and lessen any hit, without hampering her movement.
"Got it. And now that the secret weapons have been handed out, should we get to the job?" Dean spoke, somehow joking and serious all at once.
As he turned to lead, Sam called, "Dean!" When he pivoted back, his leather jacket was chucked at him by his baby brother.
They both knew the classic Winchester truth: it wasn't really a hunt unless Dean started out wearing his scuffed, worn in, brown jacket, and ended up with it scratched, ripped, or covered in the bodily fluids of something evil that they'd made dead.
They began trekking through the twisted forest. Within five minutes, Dean, who had taken point, paused and held up a hand.
Recognizing the signal, the others stopped where they were and hunkered down, guns held at the ready. Dean stalked over to join them, gaze darting to watch the surrounding area.
"What's up?" Sam asked quietly.
"The barn's up ahead. And the bus is parked out back."
"That's good."
Dean nodded shortly, but the green eyes that met Gabrielle's dark ones held a hint of uneasiness. Brow furrowing, she tried to figure out what about the set up was making Dean's instincts twitch. Then her eyes widened and she frowned.
"Why the hell was that vamp walking around, in the middle of the goddamn road, during the goddamn day, with the keys to the goddamn missing bus conveniently tucked into his pocket?"
It struck them all at once, and four voices intoned, "Trap."
Gabs clenched her jaw. "Shit. They must have heard about what happened in the bar and put two and two together."
Dean nodded, royally pissed at himself. "Probably. Damn it all to hell."
Normally nice brown eyes now completely, furiously serious, Sam's hard stare rested on his brother. "What happened at the bar, Dean?"
"Nothing!" he and Gabrielle automatically denied at the same time. Then they shared a guilty look and shrugged.
"Okay, so we might've hustled this one jackass," Dean started.
Gabs followed this up with a snort. "And he and his hick buddies might have tried to start a fight."
"And maybe we drew on them to get out alive."
"And it's possible they jumped us a little later, and we kicked their asses and sent them crying home-"
"While we were drunker then skunks."
Sam groaned softly, and Lizzy reached out and slapped Gabs' arm with all the force she could muster. The two began talking over each other, both berating their partner.
"And you always say I'm the one who shouldn't be let out without a chaperone?"
"They've run into hunters before, Dean! We know that, which means they know the damn signs!"
"You seriously hustled some stupid townie with his friends watching?"
"We have plenty of money from the last town, man! We sure as hell didn't need any more!"
"And you pulled out a goddamn gun? In a crowded bar full of gossipy locals, no less!"
"It's no wonder they went after you idiots! And I'm not saying you should've rolled over and played dead when they came after you, but to totally kick their asses while trashed-!"
"Those poor kids are probably in even bigger danger now, even more terrified, thanks to you two!"
"What the hell were you thinking, Dean?"
"We weren't!" came the angry, ashamed response.
Which was when three people, two females and one male, dropped from the surrounding trees to encircle the group.
They looked like the castoffs of a biker crew, with their faded leather outfits and tangled hair. The women were pretty underneath the dirt, while the guy had a face full of beard, like some kind of mountain man. And each of their lips were curled back to reveal the expected fangs.
The hunters' reaction rivaled the sudden appearance of the vamp trio. The four had barely registered the movement before spinning to face out, pulling together so their backs formed a tight square. The weapons were up and aimed at the vampires before the freaks could growl.
The sight of the guns made the creatures laugh. With a sadistic, amused smile, one of the females stepped forward.
Peering more closely at her, Dean realized she was the type he would normally consider a hottie. A regular chick with that same nice figure and face, long blonde hair, and who would fit just under his chin, he would have nailed in a second. But he drew the line at sleeping with dead things. And the veins peeking through her pale skin, and the feral bloodshot eyes were simply a reminder that this chick was a bloodsucking, kid-stealing corpse.
"Where are the kids?" Gabrielle demanded, voice uncompromisingly harsh.
The woman just snickered. "Stupid humans. Only amateurs would bring guns." The derision in her tone made the righteous fury rise in all of them. She continued mocking, "After all, they can't hurt us."
Dean watched his malicious grin knock them off balance. Pulling the trigger, he growled out, "These ones can, bitch."
It hit her square in the chest. Dean heard the other guns fire and knew the two remaining vamps had been hit, but he never looked away from the vamp speaker.
Glancing down at the hole between her collarbones, she hissed, "You're gonna pay for that, you bastard." Looking back up, a confident, fangy smile lit her face. Then the expression flickered. A shaking hand reached up slowly to touch the wound, while those condescending eyes paled with astonishment.
Staring at Dean, feeling the unnatural strength of her limbs withering into the vulnerability of weakness, she stuttered, "Wh-what d-d-did you d-do?"
The hunter's handsome face twisted into an animalistic sneer, similar to the one the female had worn only moments before. "I've got some hot, genius friends who made these bullets specifically for you and your family, sweetheart. Chock full of Dead Man's Blood."
Bafflement turned to terror, as she sank limply to the ground and passed out.
Finally turning to look over at his brother and the girls, Dean felt a sharp jolt of glee at the sight of two downed, headless vampires just waiting to be torched. He pulled his own machete off his back, feeling the comfortable weight and heft in his hand. Looking down at his own vamp, Dean knew exactly what it would feel like to carve through the flesh, muscle and bone of the evil thing's neck, before the blade would bite into the dirt, staining the ground red.
He raised the razor-edged tool, intent on discontinuing the female's existence, but a strong hand caught his wrist. Whirling around, the gun was in his hand and aimed at Gabrielle before he could think. It was all instinct.
She didn't release his arm, reaching over with her free hand to push the gun's hammer back in place. "We need her alive if we wanna find the kids."
"Bitch called me an amateur," Dean protested, eyes wide and sad, lips in a pout.
The corner of Gabs' mouth twitched up. "Sorry, but that look works better for Sam. You just can't pull it off."
Shrugging, Dean slid forward and planted a fast, steamy kiss on Gabrielle's lips. After the moment of surprise passed, she thrust him away and wiped off her mouth with one hand, drawing her own gun with the other in a lightning fast move. She pointed it straight at Dean's forehead, rage shining in her eyes.
He shrugged confidently again. "Sure, Sammy can do the puppy dog thing better. But I'm the better kisser. Just felt like I should prove it to you."
An eyebrow went up, and her words were spiteful. "Then I suppose that means I need to find out. Should I go kiss Sam?"
Now it was Dean's turn to glare. "Don't even think about it, Gabs. You are way too much woman for that poor kid. You'd probably chew him up and spit him out, completely destroyed, without breaking a sweat."
"Then do. Not. Kiss. Me. Again. Got it, Winchester?"
He nodded, an cocky smile on his face. If he really wanted to, he could have her begging. But he decided to go easy on her for now. Maybe after the hunt was over.
As though she could hear every though going through his head, Gabs sent him a look that would make normal men cry. Then she reached down, tangling her fingers in the blonde vampire's hair, and began dragging her toward the barn.
Sam and Lizzy looked up from the little bonfire they'd made of the two corpses. They were already on their way to being just another smudge on the forest floor, and the younger hunters were feeling a sense of accomplishment at the blaze. But now they watched Gabs continue casually toward the building.
"Gabrielle, where are you going?"
She didn't even look back as she called, "I'm gonna go jack a stolen school bus."
