Chapter 37

"I keep telling you, man, that I don't mind making doing this shit for you," Dean complained.

"Dean, you're now spending all afternoon and evening five days a week cooking for other people, and you still find the time to make us breakfast each morning and provide me dinner when I come over to the restaurant after work. The least I can do, since you're spending so much time in the kitchen, is put together my own lunches," I explained as I finished assembling a sandwich. "Yes, I know that you'd make me something far better, but I'm fine with the simple stuff I can throw together myself."

Since the restaurant launch a few weeks ago, I shifted my work schedule ahead two hours to sync up better with Dean's. He initially ran himself ragged, going in well before noon and often not coming home until after midnight every day, trying to make sure that everything in the kitchen was running smoothly. I was less than thrilled at how little I got to see him, even with the change to my own schedule, but I didn't want to say anything that might discourage him. I still worried though, as the long twelve- to sixteen-hour workdays he was putting in left him with little energy for anything else.

Ellen finally put her foot down after nearly two weeks of this—she didn't want any of her employees burning out from overwork, especially her head cook. She'd hired additional people from the onset and arranged their schedules so that no one needed to work more than nine-hour shifts. This had included bringing on two sous chefs, one to cover the morning and afternoon hours and the other to cover the evening and night hours, to provide additional supervision for the kitchen crew—specifically so Dean didn't have to be there all the time.

After reaming him out for trying to kill himself through exhaustion, Ellen got him to cut back to more reasonable hours. Now in the mornings we got up, had breakfast, and hung out together before I left for work, and he then went to the restaurant a couple hours later. In the evenings, I usually left the office to head over to Harvelle's, where I hung out in the break room or office, had dinner with Dean, and went home with him at the end of his shift. Also at her insistence, he had Sundays and Mondays free, giving us one whole day each week to spend together and him another day to relax by himself, run errands, and whatnot.

"Yeah, yeah, so you keep telling me. Don't mean I hafta like it," he grumbled.

I smiled at his adorably pouty expression and pulled him in for a tender kiss. "I love that you want to take care of me like this, baby. But you have to let me take care of you too, and that includes not putting any unnecessary burdens on your already busy schedule. Besides, even I can make a sandwich without destroying your precious kitchen!"

"That's what you said Sunday morning when you offered to make pancakes, and it took an hour to clean up the fucking disaster zone you created!" he retorted with a smirk. "I ain't leaving you in here unsupervised again!"

We bickered good-naturedly while I packed up the rest of my lunch, and then I gave him another kiss and left the apartment. As I rode the subway to my office building, I reflected pleasantly on just how well everything had been going lately—Dean's heat, his job at the restaurant, and our relationship in general. Perhaps it wouldn't be too much longer before we'd be ready to take our lives together to the next level.

I'd just returned to my desk after a late afternoon meeting when my cellphone buzzed. My eyebrows rose when the screen showed Harvelle's office number instead of Dean's cell. "Hey babe, did you forget to charge your phone or some—"

"Sam, it's Ellen," she interrupted. "Is Dean with you?"

"No, why would he be? I'm planning to come over after work like I normally do, but that's not for a couple of hours yet," I pointed out while reading through my emails.

There was a pause at the other end of the line. "Dean told me he got a text from you earlier asking him to meet you at another restaurant across town for an early dinner—something 'bout celebrating an anniversary? He wanted to lemme know that he'd be gone for longer than the usual hour he takes to eat with you, though he expected to be back in under two hours."

I felt a chill. "Ellen, I never sent any text like that. Yes, it would be four months ago today since I bought him at the Market, but I don't know if that's something I'd necessarily celebrate, all things considered. If I did, I certainly wouldn't pull him away from work in the middle of his shift like that. When did he get that message?"

"Sam, he left nearly three hours ago, and he ain't answering any of my calls," she said worriedly. "Is there someone else who coulda sent it, like one of your friends playing a bad joke?"

I thought for a moment before answering. "The only ones capable of making the text look like it came from me are Ash and Charlie, and this isn't Ash's style. I could maybe see Charlie trying to set us up on some kind of romantic date, but she'd have sent me a message too if that was the case."

"Then we've got a serious problem, since we both know that boy wouldn't just lie to me and play hooky. You got any means to trace his whereabouts?"

"He still has the RFID tag the Market implanted, and I have the tracking software on my laptop. I can also try tracing the GPS on his phone," I replied.

"You do that then, and you call me the moment you find anything," she ordered before hanging up.

I sat down and first tried calling Dean's phone, but it simply rang repeatedly before going to voicemail. I pulled up the RFID tracking software and the GPS locator I'd installed on his phone (with his permission, of course). After searching for a short amount of time, both programs pulled up the same position, which was in a rather sketchy neighborhood about ten minutes away from the restaurant. I plugged the coordinates into my phone and rushed out of my office.

On my way past, I stopped at my assistant's desk. "Ruby, hold my calls for the rest of the day. I have to leave, and I doubt I'll be back today."

Ruby looked concerned. "What's the matter?"

"Dean's missing from work and not answering his phone. I need you to hold down the fort here while I look for him," I said hurriedly.

"Shit! I'll do whatever I can to help, Sam. Do you want me to call anyone for you?" She started to pick up her phone.

"Not right now, but thanks." As I turned away, she gave off a poorly suppressed burst of smug glee. I froze momentarily, then pivoted back to stare at her. "What do you know, Ruby?"

Her furtive gloating abruptly changed to panic. "Wh—what are you talking about? I—I don't know anything! Besides, I might not like him, but you know I'd never do anything to hurt you!"

I growled, grabbed her by the arm, and yanked her from her chair. After dragging her into my office and kicking the door shut, I dropped my human semblance completely. I slammed her against the wall and wrapped a hand around her throat, my claws pricking her skin.

"What did you do, Ruby? You know it's useless to try to lie to me—or did you forget what I am?" I snarled, my eyes glowing red. "I've given you the benefit of the doubt many times until now, including after Alastair talked you, because I considered you a friend. But I won't hesitate to rip you to shreds to protect my mate!"

"He's not . . . You haven't clai—" She choked as I tightened my grip.

"We may not have formalized our bond yet, but that doesn't change what he is to me, or I to him. I'd tear apart Heaven and Hell to keep him safe!" I leaned in menacingly. "And if necessary, I'll gladly start with you."

"He's nothing . . . just a pretty sack of meat. You deserve better!" she gasped, glaring in defiance.

"And you think hurting Dean will somehow make you worthier of my affections? My dear, I'd sooner rip your heart out with my bare hands than give you mine—and that has nothing to do with the plumbing of your current vessel," I crooned, my fangs grazing her ear. "And you are still wasting my time!"

"Do your worst! You can't make me talk, Sam!"

"You think not?" I shoved her up the wall until her eyes were level with mine, leaving her feet dangling a good foot off the floor. "You think because I'm not a hellspawn like you, I can't make you wish you'd never been born? You think I don't know about the binding runes trapping you in this body and hobbling your powers, like the rest of Lucifer's minions? You think I don't know how to use a weakness like that? Imagine what it would feel like if I slowly fed you to Juliet, as you remained fully conscious while you're digested and then shat out, unable to escape this vessel or even die while you're forced to endure this over and over. And that's just the first idea that popped into my head!"

Her fingers scrabbled desperately at my hand, while her feet kicked futilely against the wall. I merely squeezed harder, crushing her throat, and continued, "It's in your best interests to confess to me, you know. I could turn you over to Crowley instead, with all of the resources and . . . creativity he could bring to bear against you. He likes Dean quite a lot, and this would give him the excuse to make sure your torment never ends. Now talk!"

Ruby's terror spiked even further at the mention of Crowley, and I dropped her. She coughed and croaked through the ruins of her trachea, "Alastair . . . he ca—came to me that night at the restaurant and asked for my assistance. He t—told me he'd get that damn omega out of my way and help me win you over—even get me into a meat suit you'd find more attractive.

"We di—didn't talk much that night—didn't want to raise anyone's suspicions. We—we met again a few days later and came up with this plan to get him alone, away from your protection. I s—sent that text from your phone earlier this afternoon and then de—deleted the thread so you wouldn't notice."

"Where did Alastair take him?" I demanded.

She shook her head and coughed again. "I—I don't know, I swear! Alastair didn't tell me what he was pl—planning to do once he had Dean."

I stared at her for a long moment, sensing plenty of fear but no further attempts at guile. Leaving her lying crumpled in a heap on the ground, I walked over to my desk and first paged security. I then called Benny, keeping an eye on her while she attempted to sit up. I also used this time to get my form back under control.

Benny picked up after the first ring. "What's up, chief?"

"Alastair's taken Dean—he used Ruby to lure him away from the restaurant about three hours ago. I need someone to come here to arrest Ruby for aiding and abetting in the kidnapping. She'll be in the custody of the firm's security until then," I explained succinctly. "I'd like you to meet me at the following site if you can. Fortunately, Alastair wasn't smart enough to disable Dean's RFID chip or the GPS on his phone."

"Fuck! Alright, I'll send a coupla uniformed officers to pick her up. Gimme the address you got, and Len and I will hook up with you there." He hung up after getting the coordinates.

I called Ellen to fill her in while waiting for the security guards to take Ruby away, then ran to Lenore's office. "Lenore, I need to borrow your car right away! Alastair snatched Dean a couple of hours ago, but I've got his location. I obviously can't waste the time going home on the subway to get my car."

"Damn him! Do you want me to come with you?" she asked.

I shook my head. "Benny and his partner are meeting me there, and probably Ellen too. I'll call you once we have Dean back."

She nodded and tossed me her keys. I dashed for the elevators, but when one didn't arrive after a couple of moments, I growled in frustration and took the stairs. I once again loosed the bounds on my true shape to rush down the stairwell far faster than a human could. At the parking level, I made a beeline for Lenore's Porsche Cayenne, stuck my phone, with the GPS directions already turned on, into the cradle on the dashboard, and peeled out of the garage.

I wasn't entirely sure how I got to the destination, as my panicked thoughts were filled with images of what could be happening to Dean, and it was probably pure luck that I didn't get pulled over or into an accident with how wildly I was driving. The immediate area was full of abandoned industrial buildings, boarded-up storefronts, and decrepit housing units. The actual location turned out to be an empty lot covered in broken asphalt and scraggly weeds and surrounded by a mostly tumbled-down chain-link fence.

The first thing I noticed was the Impala. It was partly up on the curb with both front tires blown out and the driver's door wide open. It was only after I got out of my vehicle that I saw Benny's car parked nearby with the police dome light whirling on its roof. The two vampires were standing in the lot, examining something on the ground, and Benny waved me over. Ellen pulled up just as I hurried over to join the others.

"Afraid the news ain't good, Sam," Benny told me as I approached. "Look at this."

The ground where he was pointing was noticeably scuffed, as if from a violent struggle, with blood splattered around liberally. In the middle of one of the larger stains was a bloody bit of glass and metal that I recognized as an RFID chip. Lying off to one side was Dean's engraved Colt and the smashed canister of supernatural "Mace" he always carried. Mingled with the copper tang of blood and the peppery sting of the repellant was the rotten-egg stench of sulfur.

"The blood ain't all his—looks like Dean got a coupla shots off against his assailants. Near as we can tell from what we can see here, Alastair's goons musta stretched a spike strip or something similar across the road to disable his car. Dean managed to get his gun outta the lockbox under his seat before they dragged him out, and he probably put up quite a fight," Benny said. "But they musta eventually overpowered him and dug the chip outta his back before taking him away."

"His phone and wallet are under here," Len added from by the car. "And what looks like a hex or mojo bag. Douchebags probably left all this behind on purpose to misdirect us."

I felt . . . numb, completely blind-sided by this information. I'd been so convinced that Dean would be here, that we could confront whoever took him and bring him home safely. I'd seriously underestimated Alastair, and he'd managed to outwit me, despite all of my precautions.

"Now what? How do we find him?" I asked helplessly. "They've taken away every means that Dean had to protect himself and that we had to trace his location."

"We can try canvassing the area, see if someone around here saw something. Unfortunately, this sorta neighborhood tends to hunker down when bad shit goes down and then be deaf, blind, and mute when cops come to ask questions," Benny admitted.

"We're lucky the car's still here and not in some fucking chop shop," Len put in.

"Oh gods, that would've devastated Dean! Assuming . . . assuming we can even find and rescue him in time!" I dropped my face into my hands.

Ellen laid a hand on my arm. "You hafta keep calm now, Sam. You ain't gonna do Dean any good if you fall apart—and that's probably what that bastard wants too. Sure, this is a setback, but there's still plenty we can do. These fine boys in blue can investigate 'round here and see what they can find. We can squeeze that bitch Ruby some more to see if she knows anything else. We can ask Rowena to scry for him. And so on."

"She's right, my friend. We've already called for backup, including more officers to help with the canvas and a CSI team to gather the evidence here properly and tow the Impala back to their lab. Don't give up hope yet," Benny said.

I lifted my head and glanced around. "Did Jo come with you, Ellen?"

"Nah, but I did." Ash blinked into view. "Jo wanted to, but Ellen needed her to keep an eye on the natives back at the restaurant. I figured my unique talents might come in handy here. I could start checking out the empty buildings 'round here to see if Dean got taken to one of 'em. I don't hafta wait for a warrant, and locked or boarded-up doors ain't gonna stop me."

"You do that, Ash. But no heroics if you do find him, you hear? These ain't the sorta folk you wanna mess with unprepared, so you come straight back to us," Ellen commanded briskly.

"Ten-four, boss lady!" Ash sketched a hasty salute before flickering away.

"Benny, you might wanna let Sam come with you while you question witnesses. He can tell if any of 'em are trying to hide something," she continued, then looked at me. "Honey, you think you're up for that?"

I took a deep breath and pushed my panic down. "Yes, I can do that. I'll do whatever it takes to get Dean back. You're right—he needs me to be strong right now. And we will get him back, no matter what!"