Disclaimer: Not mine, jelly pie.

Warning: F-bomb, ummmm, same as for the rest.

Author's Note: Sorry there was no post last night! My computer's being screwy with me and won't let me stay on for longer than ten minutes before it crashes. So, that said, sorry if there's no post tomorrow night, though that might be less cause of my computer and more because Croatoan's on. But yeah, I will post the next available time!

Chapter 11: Thwarted

Previously…

Another thump sent him sprawling back and a second later vampires poured into the room. Sam jumped to his feet, unwilling to give up this easy. He could hear Dean calling his name from the phone, but ignored it. He ignored everything. Turning on the balls of his feet, he jumped for the window.

Glass shattered around him, and his breath left him as he landed on the roof of the verandah. Then he was rolling, wincing as slates dug into his back, into his sides, into his stomach. And then he was falling, dreading and welcoming any landing.

Sam woke slowly, groaning as his body was dragged over sharp bumps in the ground. His legs were elevated, and he struggled to open his eyes to find out why. What the hell had happened? The last thing he remembered was falling…

Oh, that's what happened, Sam grumbled to himself in his head, realizing he had hit the ground. And been knocked out. Great plan, Sam. Jump out of the second story window. Smartest plan ever, college boy.

He wasn't surprised to realize his inner voice sounded incredibly like Dean.

The world suddenly tilted, and he realized the sharp bumps had in fact been steps. He could feel his arms dragging behind him, hanging limply. He hoped he hadn't caused any lasting damage by taking the leap. He groaned again as he was dragged over the front door step and he told himself that was the last time he jumped out of any windows. He had been lucky not to break anything, though he was sure the pain compensated for breakages in the karma department.

He finally managed to open his eyes, just as his feet thudded into the ground. He rolled his head around, looking around and wishing the drum in his back would stop. There were legs all around, voices talking but he couldn't make them out. But he knew he was back in the vampire nest.

Legs stopped nearby and then suddenly he could see knees. And then a face. Sam groaned. "Not you," he moaned, turning away from Zane's grin. "I really can't be bothered dealing with you at the moment."

The slap actually seemed to help his concentration. It cleared some of the fog from his mind, and he shook his head, getting rid of the rest in time to see Zane's hand coming at him again.

His hand lashed out, grabbing the wrist before it could touch him. "That's not very nice," he warned icily.

Zane yanked his arm from Sam's grip, his grin now upside down. But instead of hitting again, he stood up and turned to the gathered vampires.

"Bring him. Marco wants to see him."

Sam groaned as two vampires dragged him to his feet and forced him to march onwards. He took two stumbling steps before righting himself properly. He let the two vampires lead him to a room on the other side of the home.

In it, Marco, and his mate, Marie, stood by a window that was covered with yet another thick curtain. They both watched him come in, and he glared at them, feeling anger at his failed escape attempt swell.

He was forced to stop halfway across the room, and one of the bastards holding him kicked the back of his leg so that he fell to his knees. They kept a hold of him, but still Marco frowned.

"He's shown you how dangerous he is. And you still have him untied?"

Sam raised an eyebrow at the vampire leader, wondering how the hell he had actually gotten that position. He didn't sound or look like the vampiric leader type. He was soft, worried, anxious. He saw Zane's eyebrow rise as well.

But one of the vampires holding him turned slightly, one hand leaving Sam's arm, to ask for some rope. Knowing he didn't really have any hope of actually getting away, he still acted quickly. Using the moment of distraction, he pushed himself to his feet, yanking his arm from the vampire's grip. Using the motion, he turned, elbowing the second vampire in the back of the head before spinning again and grabbing the knife from its belt.

He turned back, ducking straight away as the first vampire came at him, prod out and ready. Sam blocked it with the knife, not letting the shock anywhere near him. He stepped in, punching before grabbing its knife as well.

By then the rest of them were springing into action. Seeing only one escape route, he took it, running towards the window. It was on the ground floor, but he wasn't going to try climbing through one again. He would never get out in time. Instead, he grabbed a nearby chair and smashed it into the window. The sound of falling glass was covered by groans as sunlight filled the room.

Sam took the advantage, leaping forward and grabbing a random vampire. Taking it by one shoulder, he rammed the blade into its heart.

He stepped back, feeling proud. The vampire stood up straight, looking down at the blade, amusement written all over its face.

Wait, amusement?

"Oh, give me a break," Sam cried, realizing that yet another legend about these damn creatures was false. The thing wasn't turning into dust.

Not giving himself time to do anything but become angrier at yet another failure, he grabbed the knife back, shocked at its cleanliness. He pushed the vampire back, but he was surrounded now. He cursed, spinning, feeling something swell inside as anger began taking over. The adrenaline coursed, he could feel the strength doing the same. It seemed to fill him, and when it couldn't do that anymore, it felt like it was filling the knife in his hand. He kept on turning, finally spying Marco trying to make his way inconspicuously from the room.

He changed his grip with a precision and speed that would have impressed his brother. Then, with a roar, he threw the knife at the nest leader.

On its own, the knife never would have made an impact. What none of the vampires knew though, was that the knife was backed up by telekinetic energy. Sam himself didn't realize that that was what the adrenaline actually was until he felt the knife leave his hand. Because at the same time he felt the flow of strength stop, and he fell to his knees, exhausted once more.

But he managed to keep his head up, and he saw what happened. At his roar, Marco had turned to face them all, curiosity getting the better of him. That was why the knife, flying through the air, sunk deep into the vampire's throat, its wide blade all but severing the head.

Marco's eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he slumped. Sam felt the room go quiet, and he knew. He knew the bastard was dead.

Taking the opportunity of the stunned silence, he jumped to his feet, stumbling his way to the door. Too late, someone cried out to stop him, but he was gone, out of the door and –

He fell back, wincing as if he had hit a wall. But he hadn't, of that he was sure. What he had run into was in fact another vampire, tall, strong. As Sam fell backwards, its hand snaked out, grabbing his throat and stopping the tumble. Anger marring its pale face, it held Sam up. The hunter gasped for air through the tight grip, but it couldn't get through. He fumbled at the hand, scratching, kicking out as the hand rose, taking his battered body with it. He was lifted off the ground, amazed at the strength of this one vampire. If they had all had strength like this, Sam thought he would have been long dead.

The world was fading. Sam clutched weakly at the hand around his neck once more, gasping, kicking uselessly. Nothing seemed to faze the newcomer. His sight began going black, darkness creeping in from the edges.

The next thing he felt was his back crashing into the wall, before falling to the floor, coughing and gasping for air. The bastard had thrown him, but Sam was almost glad. He was really getting sick of almost being choked to death.

He lay there for a moment, trying to regain equilibrium. He didn't get enough time. The newcomer marched over, boots thumping on the ground. Sam tried to get up, but failed miserably, making it only to his knees before he fell back against the wall.

Readying himself, he stared up at the vampire and knew this was Boreal. The creature demanded respect, like a distanced war veteran who had seen too much but nowhere near enough. He exuded that world-wariness Sam had missed in the arrogance of the other vampires, but at the same time Boreal was far more arrogant in his power than any of the others. That was because, Sam knew, he actually wielded such strength.

He looked up at the vampire, thinking maybe he had finally met one he couldn't beat. But he readied himself all the same.

In the end it didn't matter. Boreal stared down at him with an icy sneer, before turning away to face the gathered vampires. Sam could feel the anger in the air. Anger coming directly from the vampire between him and the rest.

"You're pathetic, all of you," he snarled. "You've become so addicted to this gambling of yours that you've forgotten who you are. What you are."

Boreal turned, taking them all in. "When was the last time any of you hunted? When was the last time you tasted the fear in your victim's blood? Or revelled in the excitement of the catch? Answer me, please!"

But there was no answer, and Sam couldn't help the grin forming on his face. The rest of the vampires looked like school children caught playing in the mud when they shouldn't be.

"I thought so," Boreal continued, the sneer easy to hear in his arrogant voice. "You've become nothing. All but human, getting your excitement from others beating your meals into submission. No wonder this one boy could have escaped you all. You've lost strength, and wile, and cunning, because you refuse to treat your teeth to a fresh kill." The vampire shook his head. "You should all be shamed. Even if he is a hunter, this boy should not have been able to beat you all."

Uh oh, Sam thought to himself, losing that grin. How the hell had Boreal known that? The rest of them seemed to be asking each other the same question, sharing glances as if some huge secret had been revealed.

Boreal looked at them all, disbelief etching his face. "You didn't know? You didn't know! Fools, idiots!"

In a split second, Boreal had Sam once more by the throat, holding him a foot off the ground against the wall. "How can you not tell?" the vampire shouted, Sam wincing as his ears bore the brunt of it. "How can you not smell it on him?"

Once more Boreal threw him, though this time he landed on the carpet, rolling twice before coming to rest in the centre of the room. In the centre of the vampires.

"Smell him!" Boreal ordered, and Sam flinched as sniffing could be heard. Sniffing for his scent. It was disgusting.

Boreal's feet suddenly appeared beside him, and Sam looked up into the vampire's pale, sneering face. "He's a hunter, for sure," the vampire told everyone softly. It didn't matter how loud he spoke, everyone still heard his every word. "Born and bred. Sense that darkness in him, smell it." Boreal took a deep whiff, closing his eyes. "Oh my, a Winchester."

Sam's face fell as Boreal opened his eyes, wondering how the hell the vampire had known that.

"Yes, a Winchester. It was a Winchester who killed Luthor," the vampire explained. It must have meant something to everyone else, because they all started talking amongst themselves. Sam found himself trapped in a conversation he had no clue about, and which he was pretty sure wasn't going to end well for him.

Boreal turned his gaze back to Sam. "How is dear daddy? Dead, last I heard."

"Fuck you," Sam spat venomously. He didn't even care how the bastard knew. He didn't want to know. Apparently news travelled fast in the evil community.

Boreal just grinned, before turning away. "Get him up," he snapped disgustedly. Sam didn't fight, was too exhausted too, as two of them grabbed his arms and hauled him to his feet. Quickly his hands were bound behind his back: they weren't going to risk him almost escaping for a third time. He swore the circulation was cut off.

"What do you want to do with him?" Zane asked quietly, stepping forward. Boreal turned to him with an evil smile.

"You want to be the leader, right?" the vampire asked. Zane nodded enthusiastically, though he looked shocked that his desire had been so plain for the vampire. "Well, I want you to prove yourself. I want you to prove how worthy you are for the position. Marco was a fool, and he ended up dead."

Zane seemed confused, but Sam dreaded what was coming. "How do I prove myself?" the vampire asked.

Boreal never looked at Sam, never even twitched an eye in his direction. But the hunter knew the vampire's senses were trained on him.

"You're going to fight the hunter," Boreal explained. "And if you win, you get the leadership… And him."

So, Sam's in some deep doggy-doo. Thanks for reading!