Sam pulled the Impala into the seedy motel parking lot and stopped in front of unit number 9. He rested his forehead against the steering wheel and closed his eyes hoping to ease the pounding headache lurking just behind them. What was he supposed to do now? If Dean hadn't been a vampire before he must surely be one now. Anna Exeter had probably served him up a heaping helping of immortality as soon as they left.
Leaving Dean was only the latest in a fateful string of mistakes he and Bobby had made over the last few days, their knowledge of vampires limited to say the least. Who knew there were degrees of blood sucking and that holy water could give a false positive? Bobby, too, even with his vast knowledge had virtually been flying blind.
Lifting his head, Sam wondered where Bobby was. He couldn't leave the old house fast enough and was positive the older hunter was right behind him. So sure that he hadn't even bothered to look in his rear view mirror. But the Impala was the only car in the motel's parking lot. Sam rummaged in his pocket for his cell phone and punched in Bobby's number. He answered on the first ring.
"Bobby, where are you?"
"Still on the highway. Where are you?"
Sam looked at the blinking neon sign that, in addition to flashing the motel's name, boasted daily, weekly and hourly rates and recalled Dean's laughter when they had first driven up.
"I'm at the Laughing Jackalope Motel, right after mile marker 202."
"Lord, help us," was all Bobby could say.
Sam agreed whole heartily and then, on a whim, hit the speed dial for his brother. Rock You Like A Hurricane sounded from the back seat of the car where Dean's brown leather jacket lay. Sam reached back and hauled it into the front seat and ran his hand over the thick, battered leather of the vintage piece of cowhide while, across town Dean ran his hand over the baby's ass smooth leather of the Dolce and Gabbana jacket on the mannequin.
It was black with a convertible collar; covered zip front, side zip pockets and had a price tag of $3800.00. Anna grabbed one off of the rack in his size and handed it to the store manager. She had called the poor man at home and, with a little nudge, he had come back to re-open his store especially for her. She now had the run of the place while Dean, with Anna's blessing, had the run of her credit cards.
She next picked out a black stretch poplin dress shirt for $250.00, black tux stripe slacks for $1260.00, army boxers and tee for $60.00 and $98.00 respectively and a pair of brown on black Chelsea boots for $850.00 for him.
Dean drew the line at a Dolce and Gabbana logo belt and instead chose a Ferragamo reversible belt for a cool $320.00. The whole effect was topped off with a pair of D and G Aviator sunglasses for $380.00. The only thing she didn't buy him was anything with a scent of any kind. She liked the clean, unadulterated smell of his blood.
Their next stop was the Fairfax Hotel. The 5,000-square-foot penthouse suite in which they were now ensconced was luxurious beyond Dean's wildest imagination. It took up the entire top floor and had three bedrooms with adjoining baths, a dining room, an eat-in kitchen and a two-story domed library with a ceiling painted with the constellations.
The kitchen and dining room were unnecessary as they neither ate nor cooked but, much to Dean's delight, there was a billiards room covered in floor-to-ceiling Persian tiles and four fireplaces inlaid with lapis lazuli. The bathroom fixtures were made of 24 karat gold and a secret passageway was concealed behind the bookshelves on the library's second floor through which they could come and go without being seen. It was heaven on earth.
"This has got to be hell on earth," Bobby Singer groused as he parked the Chevelle next to the Impala.
He had stayed in his share of crappy motels but, just by the name alone, he had the feeling that this one would take the cake. He grabbed a paper bag of takeout food and two cups of coffee in a formed paper tray and got out of the car. He kicked the car door shut then made his way to the rented room.
Sam, having only taken time enough to skin off his jacket and hang it on a hook near the door, was sitting at the small utilitarian table nose deep in his laptop. He looked up at Bobby with a half-smile. Without Dean around to whine about food, he more often than not forgot to eat.
"You find anything yet?" Bobby asked as he set the food on the table.
He handed one of the coffees to Sam.
"I don't even know what I'm looking for. Is there even a "cure' for vampirism?"
"I tell you what. If there is, it's in one of those books I took from her house."
Sam looked confused. Had Bobby perused the vampire's library after her not so subtle "Get out or die" visions?
"Yeah, I went back," Bobby retorted noting Sam's bitch face.
"Did you...hear anything?" Sam wanted to know.
"Not a sound," Bobby lied.
He'd heard plenty. He had heard the screams of pain and the angry shouts just before an eerie silence fell over the house but Sam didn't need to know.
At the Fairfax Dean breathed "Yes!" as he lay back on the king sized bed. The mattress and linens were so soft it felt like he had slipped into a silk lined womb. He savored the feeling as Anna came running into the room and jumped onto the bed. She lay down beside him, the silken womb now embracing amorous twins. He dove for her, his lips caressing her neck, the pulsing of her blood beneath his lips irresistible. She didn't resist as he bit down softly taking care to not hurt her as he had the first time and she moaned. He felt the old familiar fire in the pit of his stomach but his body failed to respond in the old familiar way. He pulled away from her and licking her blood from his lips, confusion and panic in his eyes.
"Man, that's never happened to me before," he swore on a stack of bibles.
Anna laughed at the absolutely crestfallen look on his face and pushed him back down into the lush bedding.
"Vampires can't make love per se. We quicken one another through the giving and taking of blood. Like this."
She rolled up to sit on top of him and opened his shirt. Leaning down, her long hair hiding her features, her tongue gently travel a path around the pectoral muscle directly over his heart where the aortic artery flowed so steadily, so strongly. She wished she could see his face when she bit down and drew in her first mouthful of rich, red blood.
Dean groaned aloud and swallowed. His eyes closed halfway and he realized that this had never happened to him before. He was having fantastic sex without, well, having sex.
The sun was breaking over the neon jackalope sign when Sam finally looked up, his eyes blood-shot and half closed with fatigue. He was beat to hell. Latin had been one of his worst subjects. He would never need Latin, it was a dead language he would tell Jessica again and again. But here he and Bobby sat, translating passage after passage, searching for what may not even exist - a way to help Dean. He sighed and looked at the coffee pot on the hot plate but couldn't bring himself to drink another drop.
"I've had it, Bobby. I'm gonna get some sleep then start in again in a couple of hours."
"Good idea," Bobby concurred carefully placing a folded piece of yellow legal size paper to mark his place in the ancient book he had been reading, "I haven't pulled an all-nighter that didn't involve killing something evil or keg stands in years."
Smiling, Sam laid his thick volume carefully on the table. He got up, walked to and fell face first onto the nearest bed. He was asleep in seconds.
Bobby pulled the spread from the other bed and covered Sam's lanky body with it and wondered if this was how it was going to be. Sam and him taking up where Sam and Dean had left off. He hoped not.
Naked, satiated and encircled in clouds of dark silk and satin, Dean slept like the dead. Anna ran her hand down her inner thigh to where he had fed so greedily and watched the man who had once been so filled with righteous anger, the man who had condemned all things evil and who was now so deliciously wicked. Well satisfied, she smiled and laid down by his side as the eternal slumber of the undead stole over her.