DISCLAIMER: Sam, Dean and the Supernatural concept aren't mine. If they were, I'd have highlights. :(

Anna walked down to the river with a racing heart. Neither Dean nor Lawrence had spoken to her the entire way here except to clarify their part in her plan. Sam had smiled apologetically, as if to say, "I'm sorry men are idiots."

Her plan. Anna felt her heart skip a beat, and the tingling down her arm warned her to breathe. Deep breaths brought the rising panic attack under control and Anna forced herself into hunting mode. Like switching off a light, Anna shut her emotions down.

From his place across the river, Sam saw the light leave her eyes and he watched the girl from the factory emerge once more. She had straightened her hair for the evening, and left it hanging down her back. It gleamed in the lamplight like sunlight through coffee. Slowly she unbuttoned her light jacket, creating easy access to the multitude of weapons strapped to her small body. How she hid them all, Sam had no idea, but as he watched her get into the night's character, he realized that the Winchesters had suddenly moved into a completely new level of hunting.

Anna moved away from the stairs toward the crosshatching of walkways near the mall. A minor labyrinth of cement bridges, Anna had chosen the place for maneuverability. Sam merged with the crowds and followed from his side of the Riverwalk, grimacing at the stench coming from the sludge at the bottom of the empty river.

"How does this river get so rank?" he questioned aloud.

"Have a few hundred drunks a month puke on you, and then tell me what you smell like," Anna's voice came, distracted. "You two in position?"

"Yes," came Lawrence's reply. He was stationed on the far end of the walkways by the convention center, blocking one escape route. Dean was positioned right outside the mall to block the path back to the street. Sam and Anna would act as herders along the banks, Anna remaining clearly visible.

"Dean?" Her voice was strained as Anna fought to keep herself neutral.

"I'm here," he answered flatly. "I still think this idea sucks."

Sam smiled at his brother's petulant tone. He hadn't heard Dean so upset over a capture plan since they had been forced to catch a flight some months before. Sam looked down at his watch. Nearly midnight. Soon the hunt would begin in earnest, and Sam felt the familiar rush of adrenaline.

"Sam, anything?"

Sam cleared his thoughts and looked around him. Something tickled at the back of his brain and he turned toward Anna in time to see Bernard step out from the shadows behind her.

"Don't look now, Anna," Sam said nervously. "But you have a friend."

"Behind me?" Sam marveled at how calm she sounded. Even her movements betrayed none of the nerves he thought she would experience at the news.

"Yeah, about three yards."

Anna had to fight a laugh.

"Are we going to measure distance in klicks next?" her tone was merry, but subdued.

"When you two finish the comedy hour, could we please focus on the psycho killer stalking Anna?" Dean bit out.

Lawrence agreed with Dean and Sam caught a smile play across Anna's lips.

"Roger, Roger," she murmured.

From his location, Dean gave a growl of frustration, scaring a couple of old women with hot pink fanny-packs and fiesta beads piled on around their necks.

"What?" he snapped, and the women hurried away from the crazy young man talking to himself.

"Easy, Winchester," Lawrence soothed from his location. "We need him to miss that we're here."

Anna listened to Dean mumbling under his breath and fought away the thrill that had run through her at Lawrence's whisky velvet voice. An image of Dean as she had found him in his room earlier flashed through her mind and Anna stopped moving, taking a deep breath.

"What is it?" Sam asked from across the way. He risked a look to Bernard and saw him slip back into the shadows.

"Sorry, Sam," she returned. "Hormones."

Dean's eyebrows shot up.

"Is he still there?" she continued.

"No," Sam answered with a smile. "Not that I can see."

"He's there, then," she whispered.

Bernard followed silently behind Anna, sidestepping the oncoming tourists and ignoring the admiring glances that came his way. He had watched her steel herself for the hunt, had caught the vulnerability in her eyes before she shut herself down.

The sway of her hips held his eyes captive, and Bernard longed to bury his face in her hair and breathe in her scent. An almost feral need to possess her seemed to have taken over, and Bernard couldn't be sure if it was Anna he wanted, or the pleasure of taking her from Lawrence.

She stopped moving suddenly and he ducked behind a stairwell, hidden by shadow. From this angle, he watched her as she spoke to thin air. Looking around he saw her accomplice. Someone new this time, across the river. A third man? Bernard grinned wolfishly as he recalled the Winchesters. This must be one of them, which meant the possessive one from the afternoon was also a Winchester. This meant that Lawrence and the second Winchester were waiting for him somewhere, and Anna was the bait. Fools. Did they really think he wouldn't figure it out? Did they think he was that stupid, to just blindly follow her tail anywhere?

"Bernard," Anna spoke, breaking him from his reverie. "I know you're back there somewhere, so listen up. We can do this your way, or mine. Mine will be a lot gentler, I assure you."

Bernard growled low in his throat and stepped out to stand right behind her. She knew he was there, but she stayed still, letting him make the first move. In her ear, she heard Dean and Lawrence screaming at her and she ignored them. She had to try reason first.

"I remember your way, bebe. It hurt like hell and gave me the mother of all hangovers."

Anna breathed deep and Bernard could smell her sorrow, her regret.

"That was my father's way. My way you come willingly to the Den and let them help you."

"Why don't you come willingly to my den, and let me help you." He pulled a long strand of her hair through his fingers. "I'm much more honest than my brother." Bernard bent low over her shoulder and at last breathed in the scent he had been craving. "You still smell the same. Like fresh rain and wildflowers." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Let me pluck you."

Anna winced at the volume of the expletives in her ear. Slowly she turned to face Bernard and leaned her head back to meet his eye.

"So we'll be doing this your way, then?"

The soft voice was gone, and Bernard found himself staring into a bored expression. His mind took a moment to register that she had rejected him.

"Bitch," he seethed.

"So I'm told," Anna shrugged.

Bernard struck like lightening, and Anna had no time to block. She felt the air move around her and watched Bernard grow distant. Pain exploded in her left shoulder and hip right before she found herself on her knees. The unrelenting stench told her before her eyes could stop spinning that she was in the riverbed.

"Anna!" Sam was calling her.

She looked up to watch as Bernard jumped into the river with her. People on the banks were screaming and she pulled herself to her feet to fling her body out of Bernard's reach. He hit the wall and spun back to her. Sam jumped down on top of the tall man as Anna scrambled back. Bernard threw Sam off his shoulders and sent him skidding across the mud to land near Anna, who stood and pulled a large gun from her hip and leveled it at Bernard. He roared in frustration, his face morphing into its other form, and he bolted along the riverbed away from the muddy pair.

"Annie!" Dean was frantic. "Sammy!"

"That son of a bitch owes me a new jacket," she bit out. "Off your ass, Sam!"

"Please don't talk about my mother like that," Lawrence drawled.

Anna chuckled and took off after Bernard without a look back. After a second, she heard Sam behind her.

A/N: Seriously folks. The next chapter will see this tale done. What do you want them to hunt next?