Dean leapt from the Impala, machete in his right hand, and started for the rundown house at a dead run. Almost at the door, he heard a hoarse cry and wheeled, charging for and around the side of the house.
Scene bathed in the light of a skeptical moon, Sam struggled weakly in the grasp of a vampire. Its fangs were buried in his throat, the monster's undead eyes glazed in blood ecstasy.
"You fucker!"
The vamp released a limp Sam at Dean's scream of rage and spun. Not fast enough. Dean's machete took off its head with one stroke.