DISCLAIMER: I don't own the boys, but if I did, aww yeah.

A/N: Sorry that this took so long to get out! The story is finished in its entirety on my computer, and just waiting to come forth now. I want thoughts and ideas for what you'd like Anna and the boys to do next! You get to pick the next plot!

Anna was blasting the soundtrack to "Gunslinger Girls," allowing the remixed arias to drown out her thoughts. She needed instinct, not thought. Bernard would make his move tonight and she needed to figure out where he would start. The moon was already full in the evening sky. Bernard would be strongest tonight and she had been authorized to take any measures necessary to ensure his removal from public.

Bernard's image swam before her eyes. He had changed, somehow. Bernard had never seen her before as anything but a nuisance. Why had he looked at her like that today? What had she seen in his eyes? That had not been the prey mocking its hunter. Nor had it been a nod to an old acquaintance. His eyes had burned into her, and she realized with a start that Bernard saw her as a woman. And for the first time, as the violins played around her, Anna saw Bernard as a man. Not the older brother of her college sweetheart, and not as a dangerous animal to be captured, but as a man, deadly and dangerous.

In her mind, wheels began to turn. She would not catch him tonight with the same ploy she had used four years ago. This time, Bernard would be caught by base instinct and lip-gloss. He was hunting her too, but Anna was about to turn the tables.

Upstairs in the blue bedroom, Dean lay across his bed and stared the ceiling fan listening to the strains of 'Il Dopo Sogno' float up from the kitchen. Anna seemed to be a musical creature, using melody to soother her moods and help her mind flow. All the music did for Dean, though, was make him anxious. He wanted to go already. The bastard was out there, ready to hunt, and Dean hated just sitting around waiting for night.

He stood and walked into the bathroom for a shower. Ten minutes later, he felt lighter, but still troubled about tonight. The music had stopped and he thought of Anna. Unwanted questions kept pushing their way forward in his head.

What if she had caught up to Bernard? Would he have killed her to escape? Would Dean have heard her scream through that earpiece? Could he have gotten there in time to help her? Did she still love Lawrence?

Dean stopped short of his suitcase with that thought and immediately banished any others. This was not somewhere he could afford to go, not with Anna. Not with any girl, really. On some level Dean could understand why her brother, and in a small way his own, had tried to stay out of hunting. Being a hunter meant being alone. Hunting made relationships dangerous. Loved ones could become targets for your enemies, victims to bend your resolve. Falling in love could be fatal. Sam had already proved that.

Dean had just pulled on fresh shorts and jeans when someone knocked on his door.

"Yeah," he called out, digging for a clean shirt. Behind him the door opened and he glanced back to see whom it was.

Anna stood in his doorway, still in her clothes from the afternoon, minus her shoes. She stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. Dean watched, spellbound, as Anna took in his appearance. He saw the quick flash of desire in her eyes and was disappointed when she pushed it away. He wished for a second that they were just normal people. Normal people were allowed to act on attraction when it could lead to more.

"I want to talk to you about tonight." Her voice was pitched low, and Dean felt his gut clench. She was nervous. She did want him. But this was business, so he quickly pulled on a shirt and motioned for her to sit.

"Go ahead."

"I think I know a way to get Bernard with a minimum of fuss, but it will require you and Lawrence to trust me." Anna was definitely anxious. Her plan would involve becoming bait, and Anna hated being the bait. She related her plan to Dean and nervously watched his jaw working as he tried not to clench his teeth. Dean was now, officially, pissed. Anna waited for him to respond.

"It'll work," she said when he didn't.

"No way in hell," Dean ground out. "Sam! Get in here!" He stalked to the hall door and pulled it open. "Thibideaux, get in here!"

Lawrence jerked his head at the sound of his name. Lawrence had watched Anna enter Dean's room and his heart had broken. He had known better than to hope that she would be willing to forgive and forget, but he couldn't stop himself from hoping they could start again. She had told him about her teenage crush on the son of John Winchester, but what he saw in her eyes, and Dean's, was this was no crush. From the tone of Dean's voice though, Lawrence realized that he had seen nothing romantic in the hallway. Could it be that she only considered Winchester a friend?

Lawrence laughed at himself, knowing that thought to be a complete lie and moved down the hall to Dean's room, curious.

When he entered the room, he saw an angry Dean, a subdued Anna and Sam looking as confused as Lawrence felt.

"Tell them," Dean snapped. "Go ahead. See if they agree with you."

Anna took a deep breath and Lawrence narrowed his eyes when he saw her hands shaking. With a clear voice, Anna outlined her plan for the evening and Lawrence felt himself quickly becoming as angry as Dean.

"Are you mad?" he said in a steely voice.

Anna flinched and met his eyes.

"You know it will work."

"Why?" Lawrence came back. "Because I'm fool enough to be in love with you, you think he is too?"

Anna inhaled sharply and clenched her jaw. She stood slowly and narrowed her eyes at Lawrence.

"If you can think of something better, I'd love to hear it." She stepped forward and Sam moved to stop her, freezing at the glare she threw him. Her gaze snapped back to Lawrence and he suddenly thought he now knew how Bernard's prey must feel. "I'm going to catch your brother tonight, Tibbs. You can either go along with me, and maybe he'll be alive when dawn comes, or I can go alone and you will be an only child. Make your choice."

Anna pushed past Lawrence and crossed the hall to her room, slamming the door behind her.

Lawrence looked up and met Dean's eyes. As one, they swore and looked away.

"I'll go talk to her," Sam said gently and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Dean and Lawrence stood quietly for a moment.

"She'll do it anyway, won't she?" Dean asked.

"Yep," Lawrence returned.

"She'll kill him if we don't help her?"

"Yep."

Dean sighed and raked his fingers through his still damp hair.

"Can't we just tie her up?"

"You want to die, be my guest. That'll leave the way clear for me to get her back."

Dean glared at Lawrence.

"It's not like that."

Lawrence smiled and moved to the door.

"No guts, huh? All the better for me."

Dean watched him close the door and his hands clenched at his side.

"I really hate that guy."

Sam knocked on Anna's door. He could hear muffled words coming from Dean's room, but right now, he was more worried about the girl. He was relieved when she called for him to come in after a moment. He entered and took a moment to absorb the room. Clean whites and blues gave the room a fresh, bright appearance. The only windows were a large bay window with a seat built into the alcove. Anna sat there, knees to her chest and her hair falling around her like a curtain.

"You okay?"

Anna looked up to him and shook her head. Sam crossed the room to sit with her.

"They'll help. Don't worry." Anna grunted a small scoff and Sam pushed on. "Look, Lawrence is just worried, and Dean's a jerk." Anna laughed a little and Sam smiled. After a moment, though he became serious. "Listen, to be honest, I don't like your idea, either. But I agree, it's probably our best bet to catch him without anyone getting hurt."

Sam took her hand in his and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and moved to hold her in his arms. He had only known Anna for a few days, but she had quickly become the closest thing to a sister he had ever had, in spite of the female friends he had had in college. They shared a connection, through hunting, through college, and through Dean. The silence between them was comfortable. Sam knew Anna was steeling herself against the coming night.

Bernard looked out over the downtown skyline from his luxurious hotel room. The price had been outrageous, but understandable considering the hotel's location right along the Riverwalk. There was no atmosphere, though, to the hotel. It was simply a cookie cutter creation, not built with any historical significance or value. The Valencia had caught Bernard's eye, but he knew his brother would search there for him, expecting Bernard to maintain his pattern.

She was somewhere in the city, planning for him. She would try to capture him, and Anna was too smart to think he'd fall for the helpless bit again.

Four years ago, Bernard had been strung out and let his animal nature take control. Only half wolf, unlike his darling younger brother, Bernard was an aberration. His transformation took on more of the Hollywood image of a werewolf than the true form of his father's heritage. Because of this, he had never been fully accepted into the pack or by the Den, the council of wolves. So, like any other "outsider" in a family, Bernard had rebelled. It was easy to succumb to vice in New Orleans, particularly when one had money.

He had begun to party and to use. His memory had large gaps, sometimes days at a time went missing, and Bernard always woke to find himself at home, Lawrence watching over him. he had resented that as much, if not more, than he had hated being ostracized. That was when he consciously began to develop his taste for hunting. The scent of fear in his victims became more intoxicating for him than the purest powder, the cleanest rock.

Bernard disappeared into the shadows of the city and led the Den on a three-month long wild goose chase. It had all ended when the Den had tired of the game and called in MacKeary, a professional hunter. Geoff MacKeary had worked with Lawrence to shepherd Bernard into a specific alley, and Bernard played along until he was greeted with his first glance of Anna MacKeary.

He had heard about the girl his brother was dating for months and knew who she was on sight. Chocolate curls hung from a high ponytail and when she turned to face him, Bernard was gone. Tendrils of silk kissed her cheeks and her skin glowed in the moonlight. Her eyes had been wide with fear and the gun shook in her trembling hand. But she hadn't screamed. She just watched him, her breaths visible in the chill air. Bernard morphed back into his human form in an attempt to reassure her, angry at his brother for endangering the girl.

Anna's eyes never strayed from his own as he stepped toward her, naked. That should have been his first clue, he now realized. She had been too scared to scream, but not embarrassed at the sight of his nude form moving toward her in the night.

"Don't be scared," Bernard had whispered. "I won't hurt you."

"I know," she had answered. Bernard remembered the way his heart constricted when she said that. For a split second, he allowed himself to think she felt it too. Images of her leaving Lawrence for him, loving him, sunlit mornings and days spent in bed flashed through his mind. All his fantasies were swept away, however, when pain exploded in his shoulder. Bernard had fallen to his knees, eyes wide with shock, as Anna lowered her gun and stepped carefully toward him. There was no trace of fear in her, and her hand was steady as a rock. It had all been an act.

"I'm sorry," she had said. "It's just a tranquilizer. I know it hurts." Bernard gasped in pain and braced himself against the ground with his uninjured arm, never breaking eye contact with her. "Just breathe." Her voice was calm and steady. "The pain will be gone soon."

Bernard fell to one side and rolled onto his back. Voices and shouts came from somewhere in the distance, muffled by the fog wrapping itself around his brain. She had covered him with her coat and the last thing Bernard remembered clearly from that night was the feel of her warm hand stroking his hair, the tears in her eyes, and the fresh scent of summer rain and wildflowers.

Tonight would be different, though. She wouldn't catch him so easily again. Tonight he would hunt her and revel in her fear. Tonight she would scream his name, one way or another. And tonight, Bernard would finally break himself free of her spell.