Chapter Twenty-Eight

Three Months Later, Outside of Seaside, Oregon

And he had a revelation: This time, it felt like cheating. He could feel the wonderful things that the woman beneath him was doing to him, and suddenly he imagined his mother somewhere embarrassed to have to call him her son and his father lecturing him about how he had been raised better than that.

Dean stumbled away from the girl with a slurred apology. Both of them were sloppy drunk, and he didn't know how he was going to get home. All he knew was he had to get out of that room. He stumbled down the hall and out of the house and pulled his out phone and called Sam to come get him. He knew he was going to have to listen to Sam scold him, but he didn't care: He wanted out of there.

He sat down on the stairs and tried not to think. He wanted to see Liz. He wanted to crawl into bed with her and pull her close and apologize for tonight and all sorts of other things that he couldn't do and wouldn't even if he could.

Sam arrived and, as predicted, launched into a lecture on responsibility. He yapped at him the entire ride back to their crappy motel room. Dean mainly ignored him, only grunting every now and again to make Sam think that he was paying attention.

He opened the door before the car had stopped moving. He had sobered up somewhat on the drive over, and he was tired of listening to Sam. Luckily, he still had his key to the motel, so he didn't have to wait to have the door opened. He collapsed onto his bed and was asleep before Sam made it into the room. Just as had happened much too often recently, he dreamed of Liz.

She lay beside him with a mysterious smile playing on her lips. He pushed a loose strand of hair out of her eyes and watched her watching him.

"I miss you," she told him.

"No, you don't."

She ran her fingers across his face. "Yeah, I do. I didn't think I would, but I do."

Dean avoided eye contact. "If you say so."

She scooted so that their foreheads were nearly touching. "Do you want to see my dreams? You might believe me if you did."

Dean shrugged. "Sure."

Liz sat up and snapped her fingers. Two boys about three years old climbed onto the bed. "Daddy!" they squealed and piled on top of Dean. He caught them and hugged them to him awkwardly. They laughed gaily, and he let them go so they could wrestle playfully in the center of the bed.

Dean watched them for a few moments then turned back to Liz. She was cradling an infant to her. She met Dean's eyes. "She's beautiful, isn't she?"

Dean's throat suddenly felt raw. "Yeah, she is," he told her. Liz smiled and laid her head on his shoulder. He felt Liz's tears start soaking through his shirt and pulled her face up where he could see it. "What's wrong?"

She leaned back against the headboard and watched the children. "I'm afraid that I won't be able to help you and that all this will never become a reality," she explained.

Dean was at a loss. "I would make a terrible father, Liz."

She cocked her head at him, considering him carefully. "You'll make a wonderful father, Dean," she insisted.

Dean was uncomfortable with the subject, so he changed it. "So, do you always dream about our nonexistent children?" he asked.

Liz grinned playfully. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Dean laughed. "That's why I asked."

She laid back down and propped her head on one arm. "Sometimes I dream about making said nonexistent children," she admitted with an embarrassed laugh.

Dean laughed with her. He realized how much he was enjoying her company, and his face fell. "I slept with another woman tonight," he confessed.

"I know."

"I didn't enjoy it," he explained. "It felt wrong. I'm so—"

Liz covered his mouth with her hand to stop his confession. "I know. I know all about it, and it's okay."

Dean felt a rush of affection for her. "Am I really talking to you?" he wondered.

"You're not talking to a manifestation of your subconscious mind if that's what you're asking," she told him.

"So, if I do this…" He cupped her chin and ran his thumb across her cheek. "…do you feel it wherever you are?"

Liz covered Dean's hand with hers and savored the pleasure that the contact gave her. She pulled his hand away from her face after a moment. "I think I need to wake up now," she said.

Dean looked confused. "Why?"

Liz looked around the room that was an exact replica of the room that Dean was sleeping in, right down to Sam slumbering in the next bed. "I don't trust myself to be here anymore," she explained. She leaned down and kissed Dean softly on the lips. "If I don't leave now, I am gonna show you one of my dreams that involve less clothing."

"What's so wrong with that?" Dean asked.

"It would make it harder to stay away."

"I dream about it, too, sometimes," Dean confessed.

"Dream about what?"

Dean cupped her cheek. "Having kids with you."

XXX

The Next Morning

"Am I the only one getting tired of fighting demons?" Dean complained as he steered the Impala onto the exit ramp. "Give me a ghost or a vampire or, hell, even a werewolf. Anything but a damn demon."

Sam raised his eyebrows noncommittally and looked out the window without comment.

Dean noticed. "You got something to say?" he asked challengingly.

Sam held up his hands in surrender. "No."

"If there's something on your mind, just say it," Dean pressed.

Sam sighed in defeat. "It's just that you are so pissy lately, Dean. Everything sets you off."

"Pissy?" Dean repeated irritably.

"Yes, Dean," Sam replied, ire starting to rise. "Pissy."

Dean balked. "When exactly have I been pissy?"

"I don't know, Dean," Sam said sarcastically. "Let's see. You snapped at that girl behind the counter back there, and she was hot in that trashy, blonde way you seem to like so much."

"She messed up my order," Dean protested weakly. "And, besides, she wasn't that hot."

"Right," Sam dragged out. "Maybe we should call out the cavalry because it has got to be one of the signs of the apocalypse that you were not even remotely interested in that girl. What is your problem lately? Whatever it is, just tell me."

Dean exhaled loudly and rubbed his face. "I honestly don't know. There's this tickling in my head that never goes away. All this energy that I can't get rid of. Well, fighting seems to make it a little better. I'm so jittery that it's like I've been taking double shots of Red Bull all day." He glanced at Sam, growing serious. "And I want to go to Seattle. I'm thinking about it right now. I think about it every time I see an exit sign that heads north. The idea gets in my head and I can't kill it. I'll be driving down the road and think, 'Hey, I could go to Seattle right now. Liz is there. It would be fun.' Fun, Sam. I am thinking of 'fun' and 'Liz' in the same thought now. I am thinking of being with Liz as fun. Something is horribly wrong with me."

As Sam listened to him, his eyebrows furrowed closer and closer together in concern. "How often are you doing this?" he asked in alarm.

"When am I not?" Dean replied with an edge of desperation in his voice. "It's bad, Sam. Very bad. Liz told me that it would get harder to resist her, but this is ridiculous. I have dreams about her, Sam. Sometimes, we just talk. That's it. We have these long, deep conversations about nothing and everything. No sex. It's disturbing. Other times, Liz is saying and doing things so filthy that even I am a little shocked when I wake up. Lately, there have been days when I don't even notice the opposite sex. I've tried hooking up with cheap, easy women, but I can't. I don't…" He cleared his throat in embarrassment. "…enjoy it like I used to. Most nights it's a struggle to even get excited enough to have sex."

"Uhh…" Sam stuttered awkwardly.

Dean barreled forward. "I want my libido back, Sam. Time is running out for me, and Liz has stolen the joy from my life. She has taken sex from me, and I want it back. I want to have sex with someone who knows I'm not gonna call in the morning and not feel bad about it."

Sam looked extremely uncomfortable. "I…don't know what to tell you, Dean."

"Tell me? I don't think that there is anything you could say that would help. I don't know how much longer I can fight the urge to go see her. This is with the talisman on. I shower with it on now. I haven't taken it off in weeks because I'm afraid of what I would do if it wasn't on. She's got hers on, too. I can tell." Dean suddenly looked aghast. "I can tell because I am in her head now. Let me just say, I want out of it."

"Maybe we should go see Liz if this is bothering you so much," Sam suggested cautiously, his distaste for the idea obvious.

"Are you telling me to go screw Liz!?" Dean practically yelled.

"I never said that," Sam protested.

Dean calmed down slightly. "That's what it sounded like," he said suspiciously. "Why else would I be going to see Liz?"

Sam's mouth opened and closed like a fish. "I never said you should go sleep with Liz."

"Good," Dean said distractedly. He looked like his mind was a million miles away. He started muttering to himself where Sam could barely hear. "I am not giving in to her. She is not going to win. I am stronger than her. She is not going to win."

"Are you listening to yourself, Dean?" Sam interrupted. "This is not a competition. I don't think she's doing this to you."

Dean focused on Sam again. "Maybe not, but it got worse when she left," Dean argued.

"It probably got worse for her, too," Sam reasoned in response.

"Maybe," Dean conceded. "Maybe not. Either way, I don't want to talk about her anymore. Talking about her makes it worse. Talk to me about something else. Anything else. What are we after? Talk to me about what we are after."

Sam watched in concern as Dean fidgeted and tapped on the steering wheel like a druggie needing a fix, but he decided to let the subject be changed. "I think it's a ghost," he told Dean finally.

"Thank God," Dean said, exhaling in gratitude. "Do we have any leads on who this thing was before it became a ghost?"

"Not really. Whoever it was, they had some kind of a tie to the cliff outside of town."

"Cliff outside of town. Got it. You want to go there first?"

"It seems like as good a place as any to start."

"Okay. Good," Dean said nervously. He drove in silence for a minute then glanced at Sam again. "How far is Seattle from here?" he asked.

"Dean," Sam said worriedly, "maybe we should tell Bobby about this and see if there is something else that could help you control this."

"So, what you're saying is you don't know how far Seattle is from here," Dean replied with an annoyed look on his face.

"Dean, you don't like Liz," Sam pointed out.

"You're right; I don't. I do want to screw her six ways from Sunday, though."

Sam's eyes widened in shock. "Nice, Dean," he said sarcastically. "I think you should lead with that the next time you see Liz. I'm sure she'll be charmed."

Dean snorted in derision. "Oh, please. If she is feeling even a fifth of what I am feeling right now, she'll probably lie down and spread her legs in welcome."

Sam made a disgusted face. "That is an image that I could have done without."

Dean started fidgeting again. "Yeah, me, too."

XXX

"So, Frank Debuchi, huh? Do we have any idea why this guy is haunting the cliff?" Dean asked, squirming in his seat.

Sam grabbed Dean's hands to make him stop playing drums on the desk. "Stop that. Now," he commanded tersely, rubbing his temples to alleviate some of the tension that was building behind his eyes.

Dean crossed his arms but started humming within a minute. Sam growled in frustration. "Why don't you go get us something to drink from that place down the street?" he asked.

"Are you trying to get rid of me?" Dean asked touchily.

"Yes," Sam barked at him. "You are driving me crazy."

Dean rolled his eyes and started toward the door. "If you aren't back in twenty minutes," Sam called after him, "I'm calling Bobby and telling him everything. You had better not try to ditch me to head to Seattle."

"You just had to bring up Seattle," Dean said angrily, grabbing his coat and walking out the door.

Sam sighed as Dean slammed the door. He turned back to his computer to continue researching the ghost on the cliff but couldn't seem to concentrate. He finally gave up on the pretense and pulled up a search engine. He entered the name of the curse that Liz had said that she and Dean were under into the search engine. The term had 601,568 hits. He clicked on the first source that seemed reputable. It was a site called "Discussions of the Unholy," and it contained a posting board that had threads about a variety of supernatural beings, curses, and rites. He scrolled down until he found the one that talked about The Lover's Curse and clicked on the link.

New Topic: The Lover's Curse
Posted 11:43 p.m. May 25, 2006 by: luvrgrl45

what does everyone think about the lover's curse?

Re: The Lover's Curse
Posted 3:26 p.m. May 26, 2006 by: eatme5612

'The Lover's Curse' is just a fancy term that hides from the stupid and uninitiated what exactly the curse does. It subjugates women. End of discussion. There is no defending this curse and it should be stricken from all the texts that contain it. This is the freaking 21st century, not 1500. There is no way that this curse should EVER be used.

I dare some stupid man to try and fight me on this.

Re: Re: The Lover's Curse
Posted 4:48 p.m. May 26, 2006 by: monsterman77

wat iz luvr's curse

Re: Re: Re: The Lover's Curse
Posted 7:14 p.m. May 26, 2006 by: princessofdarkness

It is a marriage ritual that ties a couple's souls to one another for eternity. There is a curse attached to it wherein the woman is unable to commit adultery or she dies. Many of the groups that still use this particular wedding ritual have arranged marriages, so they prefer it because it has a built-in drive to encourage the couple to sleep together. Meaning that once the ritual is performed, the couple gets very horny, very quickly. If this desire is not acted on, it grows stronger until it literally drives the couple insane with desire. I've never seen it myself, but I hear that it is not a pretty sight to see when someone gets that far gone. I think that the adultery clause is why eatme5612 was so hacked about it. Hope this helps.

Re: Re: Re: Re: The Lover's Curse
Posted 1:24 a.m. May 27, 2006 by: monsterman77

thanx for the explanation

Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: The Lover's Curse
Posted 2:25 a.m. May 27, 2006 by: eatme5612

princessofdarkness, you forgot to mention that the man has no such restriction. And even if the man dies, the woman can still not get remarried or sleep with another man. It is a completely sexist curse and meant to keep women in our place.

Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: The Lover's Curse
Posted 3:16 a.m. May 27, 2006 by: thewicked1

eatme5612, you are forgetting the surrogacy clause. The man can name a surrogate for himself in the event that he dies and his wife is left all alone. I'm not saying the ritual isn't sexist. I just hate someone not laying out all the facts.

Sam glanced at the time and realized that over an hour had passed since Dean had left. He grabbed his phone and dialed Dean's number. It rang and rang and finally went to voicemail.

He redialed. "Come on, Dean. Pick up."

Thirty minutes and 14 calls later, Sam finally heard Dean's key scraping in the lock. He met him at the door.

"I'm calling Bobby," Sam threatened.

"Go ahead," Dean told him uncaringly.

Sam hesitated. "Why didn't you answer your phone? I was starting to get worried that you really had headed to Seattle."

Dean smiled rakishly. "The lovely Carmen from the Gas -N- Sip was introducing me to her señoritas." He moved his hands up and down in front of his chest as he said this.

Sam's face hardened. "You had better be kidding me. You were picking up girls? That's why you didn't answer your phone?"

"What?" Dean asked innocently. "It's what I do. You know that."

"So, what was all that stuff about Liz earlier? Were you just messing with me?"

Dean's teasing manner disappeared, and he sat on the bed tiredly. "We are 180 miles from Liz's apartment. She's wearing a pink shirt tonight. It's cashmere and feels wonderful sliding across her skin. Does that answer your question?"

Sam's face softened. "Maybe we should call it a night," he said. "We can start with the research again in the morning when we're both feeling better."

Dean put his face in his hands and nodded gloomily. "Okay," he replied and plopped back onto the bed without removing his clothes.

Sam got ready for bed, and when he came back out, Dean had not moved. He settled into his bed and was almost asleep when Dean spoke.

"Do you think that I could manage to have sex if I thought about Liz the whole time?" he asked.

Sam's eyes popped open. "That is seriously disturbing, Dean. I thought you had sex tonight."

Dean sighed. "I tried, but it didn't work out."

Sam rolled his eyes. "I think I liked it better when you weren't sharing. Honestly, I don't know if I can live with you like this much longer."

"I can't live with me like this, either," Dean agreed, desperation tinging his voice. "Liz told me that if we keep resisting the pull to consummate our marriage, we will go crazy. Do you think I'm going crazy?"

"I think it's a very real possibility," Sam replied dryly.

"Me, too," Dean said worriedly. "Sometimes I think I see Liz, and I turn around and it is someone who doesn't even resemble her at all."

"Why do you think this suddenly got so much worse?"

"Isn't there some saying about abstinence making the heart grow fonder?"

Sam laughed begrudgingly. "I hate to be the one to state the obvious, but maybe you and Liz should hook up. Wouldn't that make everything easier on both of you?"

"I thought you weren't suggesting that I go sleep with Liz the other day," Dean said mockingly. "The thought had never even crossed your mind."

"I lied," Sam said matter-of-factly. "If it's a choice between going insane or sleeping with Liz, then sleep with Liz. That seems pretty straightforward."

"You don't understand, Sam. I don't want to give into this thing. I hate not being in control of my feelings or thoughts."

"I do understand that, Dean. I know what it's like to not have control over yourself or your actions. It's awful. Sleeping with her would give you control back is all I'm saying. You've never been sentimental about sex, so I don't see what the big problem is."

"It's not about the sex, Sam. If it were that, there wouldn't be a problem. I'd be in Seattle as we speak taking care of this. It's the principle of it, Sam. She's not going to win."

"Dean," Sam said dispassionately, "Stop being such an idiot. We've been over this. I don't think she is somewhere scheming against you. I think she's on our side."

"Do you?" Dean asked with genuine curiosity.

Sam nodded. "I do. I think she's looking out for you…and me."

Dean looked away. "I think so, too, and it scares me."

"Maybe being with Liz wouldn't be such a bad thing," Sam said tentatively.

"That thought scares me even more," Dean said in a voice that was barely audible.

"I know it does, Dean, but it's a reality that you might have to face."

"I don't have to face it tonight, though," Dean said and rolled to where his back was facing Sam. He kicked off his shoes and pretended to be asleep when Sam said his name. Sam rolled his eyes at the behavior and settled in. It did not take him long to nod off.

XXX

"Sam! Behind you!"

Sam turned and fired his shotgun just as the ghost was about on him.

"I don't get it, Sam," Dean yelled, firing his gun as the ghost swooped in for another attack. The ghost dissipated. "We burned this guy's body. He should be gone."

"I know," Sam said, sweeping his gaze around the cliff for any sign of the ghost's next attack.

A gossamer woman appeared before Dean with a sadistic smile on her face. "Can't catch me, Dean Winchester," the ghost said tauntingly and disappeared.

"Apparently there is a new ghost in town," Sam said.

"Way to state the obvious," Dean said impatiently, cocking his gun again and looking for any hint of movement. "It's time for this bitch to come out and play."

"Down, Dean!" Sam commanded. Dean dropped to the ground, and Sam fired his gun. The ghost dissolved and reformed about ten feet from the spot it had been in. It laughed merrily at the boys and swooped in for another attack. This time Dean fired at the thing.

"I think it's trying to make us run out of ammo," Sam said. "How many more rounds do you have?"

Dean checked in his pockets. "Ten," he answered. "You?"

"Eight. What are we going to do when we are down to one?"

"Hope we don't die," Dean answered in all seriousness.

"What is that?" Sam asked, pointing at a place behind Dean on the edge of the cliff. Dean glanced over and saw a small cedar box sitting precariously close to the edge.

Dean shrugged and started scanning for the ghost again. "No idea. It wasn't here before, though. I'll cover you, and you can check it out."

Sam lowered his gun and headed out to the edge of the cliff to grab the box. It had an elaborate logo on the outside with a big 'B' in the center of it. 'Barrister Enterprises' was scrolled across the bottom of the logo.

"What is it, Sam?" Dean asked, eyes jumping around in anticipation of another attack.

"It's a box with the logo of Frank's company."

Dean was momentarily stunned enough to unconsciously lower his gun. "What?" he asked in complete confusion. The ghost used the distraction to attack again, this time catching Dean off guard and knocking him down. The ghost's hands clasped around Dean's throat and started to squeeze before Dean could get his gun up and shoot. He managed to get the barrel between himself and the ghost, though, and it dissolved as he fired. He scrambled up, panting for air.

Sam was entranced by the box and had missed the attack. He pulled out the contents and examined them. There was an article about a young girl who had been murdered, a lock of hair, and a bloody piece of what looked like it had at one time been a piece of clothing.

"I think this box is what is tying this ghost to this place," Sam said.

"Then burn it," Dean answered, firing another round as the ghost dove out of the sky toward Sam.

Sam set the box on the ground and pulled out the lighter he had in his pocket. He tossed in some salt and lit the piece of cloth on fire, quickly tossing it back into the box. He stood up and watched as the contents of the box quickly disintegrated into ash.

The ghost disappeared mid-attack, leaving Dean shooting at nothing but air.

"That was weird," he said.

"It was," Sam agreed, still inspecting the box. "I'm going to take what's left of this box and see if Bobby can make heads or tails out of what it does."

"Let's do it sooner, rather than later. Frank and Company must know we're here."

Sam's reply was lost forever as Frank Barrister stepped out of the shadows, clapping slowly.

"Bravo," he said. "Absolutely delightful. It has been awhile since I have seen such a manly display of youth and vigor. You really are quite the team. One part brains, the other brawn. The perfect match."

Dean leveled his shotgun at Frank, causing Frank to smile in amusement. "Rock salt? How threatening," he mocked. He snapped his fingers, and several men stepped out of the woods carrying semi-automatic weapons. Frank turned a condescending sneer on Dean. "I can assure you that these guns are not loaded with rock salt."

Dean glanced at Sam, making sure he was between Sam and Frank. "You can't have Sam," he said protectively.

Frank's smile widened. "I think that you'll find that I can have pretty much anything I want, son."

"I am not your son," Dean said through clenched teeth.

Frank gave him another feral grin. "In the eyes of the law you are," he taunted. He cut Dean off as he started to speak. "It's nothing to get upset about. I am here for you, not Sam."

"What?" Sam said in shock. He met Dean's equally surprised gaze. "It doesn't matter who you're here for. You can't have either one of us."

Frank rolled his eyes at the boys' bravado. "The two of you just don't seem to comprehend that I am playing with you because it amuses me to do so. Neither one of you is walking away from this cliff of your own free will."

"I guess we'll see about that," Dean said.

Frank looked amused again. "I guess we will," he said. He turned to the man on his left. "Terrence, do whatever you need to, just don't kill them."

"Understood, sir," Terrence said, switching to a handgun. He signaled to his men, and they all started toward Dean and Sam.

Dean and Sam started looking for a way out, but they were trapped between the men and the cliff. They could not escape over the cliff because there was nothing but rocks at the bottom. Being caught by the men was only slightly preferable.

Dean feinted toward the man closest to him then headed to the left. The men had closed around Dean and Sam in a wide arc, though, so there was nowhere to go. Dean turned back and faced off with the guy that Frank had given his command to.

"I guess we fight," Dean said, widening his stance.

Terrence cocked his head and shrugged. He shot Dean in the chest and watched impassively as he collapsed to the ground.

Sam gave an agonized yell and came at him. He calmly shot Sam in the chest and moved out of the way as Sam's momentum carried him forward. Terrence made a noise of disgust and lowered his weapon. He walked over to Dean and nudged him with his foot. He reached down and pulled the tranquilizer dart from his chest.

"You should have let me kill this one," he told Frank.

"And you should mind your own business and not tell me what to do," Frank replied with an edge to his tone. "You have your orders, so be a good little soldier and follow them."

Anger flared in Terrence's eyes at Frank's statement. "Yes, sir," he ground out, moving to pull the tranquilizer dart out of Sam's chest. He pulled a zip tie out of his pocket and fastened it around his wrists.

"Do you want their feet tied?" he asked sullenly.

Frank thought about it. "You'd better. I wouldn't want anyone trying to be a hero and ending up hurt."

Terrence nodded and pulled a roll of duct tape from his jacket. He wrapped the tape around Sam's ankles several times and moved to bind Dean in the same manner. When he finished, he signaled for his men to round up.

"We're ready, sir," he told Frank icily.

Frank clapped him on the back. "Cheer up, Terrence. We are in no rush, and I have something that I think is going to play to your sadistic tendencies."

Terrence was not so easily placated. "They will be awake soon. We need to go."

Frank laughed. "It would not be much fun if they were not awake," he said.

That got Terrence's attention. "Sir?"

Frank smiled in triumph at Terrence's reaction. "You might want to gag them before you load them in the vehicles. They will be less tiresome that way."

Terrence got an excited gleam on his face. He hurried over and gagged Dean and Sam then waited in eager anticipation for his next order.

"Okay," Frank called. "Load Dean in the Impala and Sam in the van. Those in the van have their orders. Terrence you can take the truck and follow me in the Impala."

XXX

When Dean awoke, all he knew was that it was dark. He couldn't have said whether minutes, hours, or days had passed. He was in the Impala. He knew that instantly. He could hear waves crashing and could smell saltwater, so he assumed that he was still near the ocean. He turned his head and realized that Frank was driving his car. His skin crawled at the thought.

Frank noticed he was awake. "Welcome back, Dean," he told him. "I thought it would be nice to give you one more ride in your beloved Impala before you had to say goodbye."

Dean tried to wriggle out of his bonds. Terrence knew what he was doing, though, and Dean wasn't able to loosen them.

Frank slowed and pulled onto a lookout of the cliff they were driving along. He got out and greeted the group of men who were waiting for them.

A truck pulled up behind them, and Terrence got out and came to the Impala. He opened the door and pulled Dean from the car. He was barely containing his excitement as he shoved Dean in front of him.

"Can I hold him?" he asked Frank.

Frank shrugged. "What do I care?"

Dean couldn't see Terrence's face, but he knew he was smiling. "Okay, boys," he commanded the men around Frank. "You know what to do."

The men walked over to the Impala, put it into neutral, then started pushing it toward the cliff. Dean realized what was happening and started struggling to get away from Terrence. He was yelling things that were muffled by his gag. He didn't break Terrence grip, and the Impala rolled gracefully off the edge and fell to the rocks below.

Frank watched emotionlessly as Dean increased his efforts to get loose. After a minute, Frank pulled a syringe out of his pocket and emptied its contents into Dean's shoulder.

The struggle went out of Dean. "Load him into my truck," Frank commanded Terrence. "We have things to do."

"That was fun," Terrence admitted. "I still think we should kill him."

Frank smiled tightly. "There, there, Terrence. You'll get to have your fun, don't worry."

The excited gleam came back into Terrence's eyes, and he threw Dean over his shoulder and headed for the truck.

"One more thing, Terrence," Frank called after him.

"Yes?"

"Stay away from his face."

"But, sir," he protested.

"Leave his face intact," Frank commanded in a deadly voice.

"Of course, sir," Terrence said unhappily and continued toward the truck.