Disclaimer: Sam and Dean Winchester are not my characters.

A/N: If there are any typos, I apologize. I will find them and fix them later.

Converse, Indiana. Population 1,246.

I pursed my lips at the cheery, little welcome sign. "Welcome To Converse," it proclaimed in bold letters. "Enjoy Your Stay!" Yeah. Not likely. Sorry, Converse.

Three vamps left, I mused silently as I accelerated down the main street. Mika and I stopped at the hardware store. I bought a six pack of Coke, and she insisted on getting a dark blue bandana and a bottle of water. Then we went straight to the most abandoned building we could find. It was a tiny warehouse on Maple Street. Calling it a warehouse might have been stretching it. It was a tiny building with a loading dock on one side and big doors on the other. But it was empty, for now anyways, and that's what mattered.

There was no music, no theatrics, this time. Just Mika and I, armed with a machete and the last syringe of dead man's blood. The main vampire—Head Honcho—as I thought of him, hadn't shown up last time when his cronies invaded the dance studio. I was betting that he wouldn't show up here, either.

Which meant this whole thing was going to be two-on-two. Well, two-on-one-and-a-half. Regardless, I was kind of excited. The odds were finally even, or at least not steeply canted against me anymore. I could kill two vampires. Probably.

Most likely.

Maybe.

There was a metallic clatter off to our left, letting me know which direction the vamps were coming in from. Mika and I had either finished off or dumped out the cans of Coke earlier and tied the aluminum cans on a string. There were only two ways into the warehouse, and strings hanging with cans guarded both.

The vampires entering from the east had no doubt jostled the string attached to the cans. Except there had been only one clatter, which meant there was either one vampire coming in, or the other vamp had enough sense not to shake the string. Or they were coming in from two directions. Or one was just so stealthy he could be sneaking up on us right now. The possibilities spit through my head like machine gun fire, and it was a hard task to drown them all out.

I pulled Mika close, knowing that the vampires would have to come out in the open if they wanted a shot at either of us. This plan, so unlike our previous subterfuge, was incredibly simple. Vamps would come at us, and we would kill them. I was hoping it was just crazy enough to work.

And it did. Kind of.

A vampire appeared to our side, yanking Mika out of my arms before I had a chance to react. That was okay, though. I was relatively certain—while not totally sure about the mechanics of vampire speed—that the vamp couldn't keep up his speeding blur act when toting around another person.

Turns out, I was correct.

The vampire was relatively stationary as he struggled to hold a kicking, writhing, hitting Mika, and I had to wonder if he'd thought this through. Regardless of his planning ability, I launched myself at him with a mental scream of rage. Mental only because we were in a residential area, and I didn't want anyone to call the cops. All three of us went down in a heap, and I briefly considered trying out for professional football. My tackle was as good as any linebacker.

The vampire flung Mika away with a single thrust of his arm, sending her rolling and tumbling to the side. Then he went for my neck. I barely managed to get my forearm in the way before he bit down. Then, despite trying to keep things quiet, I let out a strangled "son of a banana" as hot, burning pain tore through my arm. It felt like the guy's mouth was a meat grinder, like I could literally feel his spiked teeth grating against the bones of my arm.

My mind went blank for a second at the shock and pain of it all, then I kicked it into gear. I was still slightly on top of him, so it didn't take very much effort to wiggle and jerk my knee around enough to hit something incredibly delicate. As it turns out, even as vampires, guys still feel the age-long need to protect their junk.

My knee hit ground-zero, and the vampire spasmed, releasing my arm from his mouth. His arms came up, one hand settling on the back of my head, and the other reaching for my jaw. I had no doubt that he would snap my neck if his second hand got a good grip. So I did the last thing he'd expect. I dived bombed him with my head, and I bit him.

I wasn't going to go all Walking Dead on him and tear his throat out with my teeth, but I did manage an impressive pitbull impersonation in the area between his throat and shoulder. He fisted a handful of my hair, trying to yank my head away, but I hung on despite feeling like my hair was being torn out of my head. Mika ran over, slamming a syringe into one of his flailing legs, and then it was over.

He twitched and jerked for a second before going still. I sat up, spitting blood and stuff I didn't want to think about out of my mouth. Swiping a hand over my lower face, I tried to clean the blood off, but I think I made it worse.

"There was only one? And you bit him?" Mika's voice was thin and reedy—terrified.

A hysterical laugh broke free of my chest, and I felt crazed and terrified myself. "Last thing a vampire would expect, right?"

Mika settled back on her haunches, staring at me. Okay, maybe I needed to reign in the "crazy lady" bit. Instead of screaming or running away from me, though, she fished in her pocket, pulling out the blue bandana she'd made me buy her. Then she moved forward slowly, the way one approaches a wild animal, and motioned for my arm. I mutely held it out, and she tied the bandana around the bleeding bite wound.

After that came the water bottle, which she hadn't drunk from. She extended it slowly, like I was still feral and could attack at any second, and I took it, washing my mouth out and cleaning my face. Feeling a bit more human, I stood on shaky legs and beheaded Number Six. Coincidentally, he was the one who had slammed me into a stairwell wall, so he was responsible for making both my arms look nasty. Jerk. Well, a dead jerk now.

Mika took the keys and backed the car into the warehouse. I was in no state to go outside and possibly be seen by people. The heavy plastic sheeting in our trunk made me feel like some kind of sicko serial killer, but we wrapped Number Six without hesitation. I quickly debated leaving the body here versus taking it with us.

In the end, Mika and I carried the duct tape, plastic sheeting mummy to an industrial freezer in the back and set him inside. Then I brought out a spray bottle and liberally doused the entire area with a bleach and water mixture. I'd seen enough CSI to know that bleach destroyed evidence, and we would be long gone before anyone even thought to question two young girls about a grisly beheading.

While I bleached everything, literally everything, Mika retrieved our pop can burglar alarms and tossed them into the back seat. I started the car. Flashing one last glance at the now padlocked freezer door, I pulled out of the warehouse and Mika rolled the big door down to the floor again before climbing in. I almost felt bad for the small town sheriff, who would mostly likely be way out of his or her league. I rolled out onto the street and started to drive, pondering how scary life would be for a cop that actually knew the truth about the things out there.

A flicker in the rearview mirror drew me out of my thoughts and had me studying the shrinking shape of the warehouse. Before, the streets had been empty. Now, there was a man's silhouette against the building. I stopped the car, letting the red brake lights flare up in the growing dusk. The man moved his hands apart then brought them together a couple times.

Clapping. He was slow clapping. For us. For me. Mika looked up, followed my gaze, and saw nothing. He was already gone. "What is it? Did you forget something?" she asked, not suddenly creeped out and cold like I was now.

"No. Nothing," I said quietly, starting to drive again. She didn't need to know. At least one of us should get some sleep tonight.

Mika remained silent as we drove. I brought us to a little Bed-and-Breakfast on the other side of the town. She got out and made the necessary business transaction, and I snuck into through the back window when she came out and told me the location of the room.

I heaved my duffle inside the window, scrambled over the window ledge, and landed on a heap on the floor. That's what you get with two bum arms. Without a word to Mika's worried glances, I went into the bathroom and didn't come out again until every speck of blood, dirt, and vampire gunk was gone from my skin. I even brushed my teeth. Three times.

Mika was sitting on the bed when I came out, and she looked concerned when I started prepping my machete and gun. "We're not staying?" she asked, eyes wide.

I kept my head down, shoving the mag into the gun and pulling back the slide. It clicked back into place, and I flicked the safety on. Then I looked at Mika. "I'm going out to meet the head honcho."

Fear flickered across her face. "He's not...he'll..." she whispered, like that was all she could muster. I didn't know what he'd done to her, but she was terrified of him. God, I hated vampires so much right now.

She looked like she was about to start crying, so I put the gun on the table and settled my hands on her shoulders. "I'll be okay," I said softly. "He's treating this like a game. It wouldn't be fun to kill me now. Not until he has you again. Besides, it'll be irresistible for him to come see what I have to say." I flashed her a pouty face and my most provocative one shoulder shrug. "Irresistable," I purred. She couldn't help but smile a little, and I stopped being a weirdo once my mission was accomplished.

I led her to the bathroom. It had sturdy three walls and a solid door. "Look, I'll just shut you in here, and then I'll push the dresser in front of the door, okay? That way you'll have lots of time to prepare if anyone but me tries to get in." She still didn't look convinced, so I grabbed her hand and settled the gun into it. "This is a Glock. All you have to do is click the safety off—" I demonstrated "—and pull the trigger. The recoil isn't too bad, so all you need to focus on is aiming for the head. Head area. Anywhere in that vicinity. Shoot 'em and then run."

Mika was on the verge of hyperventilating, so I hurried to console her. "Look, Head Honcho will be busy with me, and I highly doubt the other vamp will be far from his boss. He probably won't even come for you." I wasn't willing to flat out lie and say that he wouldn't come at all. I didn't know that, but I had a pretty good idea that she would be safe. Otherwise, I wouldn't be going to meet the head of a sadistic, homicidal vampire clan.

I paused thoughtfully before handing her my phone. "Give me two hours. If I'm not back by then, call Sam. His number is in the phone. Tell him where you are, and he'll come get you. He and his brother are really good Hunters. They'll keep you safe."

I almost thought she was going to cry and cling to me, but instead, she gave me this weird out-of-it look. "You'll be back," she said kind of strangely.

"You better believe it," I said with a snort. Then I pulled her into a hug. "Love you," I murmured, realizing it was true even though I'd only known her for a week or so.

She squeezed me tightly, like she didn't want to let go. Eventually, I had to pry her off and poke her towards the bathroom. She took my gun and my battered copy of Harry Potter that had somehow made it into my suitcase without my knowledge. I suspected Trixie. Either way, it was so like a McAllister to take a gun and a novel into the bathroom together that I had to hold back laughter.

Of course, then I remembered that Head Honcho and I were slated for a little one-on-one face time, and that took my laughter right away. Life sometimes punches you in the gut like that. It's great. For life. Not so much for your gut.

Once out at my car, I sliced my palm of my left hand with the tip of my machete, just a little cut, and let blood drip to pool in my hand. People in the movies did it all the time with no thought. But it hurt like crap, and it was hard to make myself bleed voluntarily. I did it anyways, knowing the necessity of the act.

Deciding a lake was a good place for a late night, or an early morning, rendezvous, I navigated towards the biggest body of water around, dripping blood out onto the road the entire way there, starting at one of the many stoplights in the middle of town. Once I'd left what I assumed to be a suitable blood trail, I pulled off the road at the lake.

Then I set my shoulders and started walking. Small, rippling waves eased forward against the shoreline of the lake, and cold mist settled over me like a chilling blanket. It matched what was going on inside me.

I walked along the beach quietly, savoring the cool night air as I headed towards the closest structure. It was a dock, placed out near the widest part of the shore. I had no doubt boaters came here all the time, not now, of course. The waterline was much too low, but I knew as soon as the snow melted, the lake would fill up. In the meantime, I dripped blood into the exposed sand.

As I neared the dock, I slapping a bloody smear onto the closest concrete pillar and walked under the wooden structure. "Find me now," I growled coldly, staring out over the water. Then I sat, elbows on knees, watching the moon paint the water in cold, white light as mist drifted aimlessly over the it.

And, just like I'd known he would, he found me. It was a lot like when my biological father had shown up. I felt like someone had just punched me in the gut. Yet I wasn't the same girl as I had been back then. I wasn't terrified, wasn't overcome with emotion. Yes, I was scared, but I didn't let it control me. There was too much at stake for that.

Head Honcho sat down beside me, mirroring my pose. He was kind of handsome, in the way a jungle cat might be right before it decides to make you dinner. Dark hair framed a strong jaw. Thin lips curved into a genuine smile. His eyes were dark and just a little too piercing to be comfortable to look at. But he looked normal, human even.

Maybe that's what made this so hard. It was easy to kill something rabid, something trying to kill you in the first place. But he was looking and acting human at this point, and it was hard to get past. "You have something of mine, I do believe," the vampire said with a pleasant smile. "But I have quite enjoyed the chase."

I shook my head, letting my hand bleed into the sand. "You can't have her back. You can't have anyone anymore." He lost his smile, going still beside me.

"I've been a vampire for longer than you've been alive. What makes you think you can come out of nowhere and stop me? You're a nobody. Just some silly little Hunter with an ax to grind." He knew what Hunters were, which meant I wasn't the first, then. That was disturbing. He smiled widely, maybe thinking it was funny that I was creeped out. "I could snap your neck right now. It'd be so fast, you wouldn't even see it coming."

I blinked at him. "You won't," I informed him. "You've been alive too long to make it quick. You like to play. You like the power it gives you." I looked over at him, chewing on my lip, even as my right hand tightened on the machete strapped to my back under my shirt.

"You're a strange one," he admitted. "I've never seen anything quite like you. You came into my house, stole my possessions, and set fire to my living room. Then you fled. It was as if you wanted us to chase you." He laughed, like this was simply the best treat ever. "When I sent my family after you, you killed them in the most wildly imaginative of ways."

I shrugged, trying to hide how sick he made me feel. "What can I say? I like to shake things up."

He laughed again, almost childlike in his mirth. "I honestly don't know what to expect from you. That's what made this all so pleasurable. You're full of surprises. I'll be very sad to kill you. No one's given me as much fun as you have. It's admirable, really." He sobered, turning thoughtful as he ran a hand through his hair. "I could turn you. We could be together for eternity, then. Think of all the fun we could have." His voice lilted playfully on the word "together," and I instantly sought clarification.

"Together," I echoed, questing for his intention lest he be saying what I thought he was saying.

"Together," he repeated sensuously, "in every sense of the word." Oh. It was like that now, was it?

"I'd kill you," I said flatly. "You could turn me, but the moment you let your guard down, I would slaughter you. Then I would use my speed and my strength, and I would kill every single vampire I could find. You would be infamous—the poor shmuck that unleashed a monster so powerful he couldn't control it."

He looked genuinely surprised at my rather violent declaration."Yes," he said thoughtfully. "I rather think you would." At least he didn't doubt my sincerity. He sighed. "Well, at the chase has been fun. Shall we end it?"

I shrugged, wondering how messed up a guy had to be to consider sending his entire family—if that's what they were—to die in order to have a little fun. Not entire, I corrected mentally. Number Eight is still out there somewhere. "Tomorrow," I said abruptly. "There's an abandoned barn out by Wilkinson Road. I'll be there. You'll be there. Mika will not. One way or another, this will end."

He laughed. "So willing to die for a girl you barely know." Then he looked a little bit crafty, like he knew something I didn't. "Why is that?"

I grinned, baring my teeth in a disturbing manner. "She's family, more or less. But I would do it anyway, even if she wasn't. Because all it takes for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing." It shocked him. It shocked him into silence for a good minute.

"Edmund Burke," he said finally, recognizing my quote. Then he snorted, standing up before sweeping into a deep, elegant bow. "So you're a like a lioness, protecting her cub. Well, I wish you the best of luck, lioness."

Edmund Burke. He was an Irish philosopher and political theorist. Finn quoted him from time to time, don't ask me why. I quoted movies, he quoted philosophers. To each his own, I guess. It was ironic that I was quoting a philosopher now, of all times.

Head Honcho walked a few steps, and I was still annoyed at being called a lioness, so I couldn't resist a parting shot. "Oh, by the way, Number Six is currently sitting headless in the warehouse on Maple. He sends his regards," I called, just to piss him off. "Oh wait, he's dead and in the freezer. Never mind." If it had any effect on him, I couldn't tell.

Head Honcho went still for a moment, then he glanced over his shoulder. "Tell me, has the girl seen the future yet? Has her true parentage made itself known?" Then he was gone, leaving me stunned, skin crawling. Yeah, his parting shot was way better than mine.

I thought about it for a second before my brain settled on the last thing Head Honcho had said. Mika's parentage. I knew Jemma was lying about Mika and Finn's father, but why would that matter? What could be so important to lie about? And seeing the future? What the heck was that about?

As I sat in the sand, I thought about the oddities Mika had shown me. One, she had known exactly how high to string the razor wire the first time we'd used it. The chance for error had been insane, but she hadn't hesitated. Two, she'd known we were coming to Converse, had known this was where I was making my last stand. She'd known before I'd even fully made the decision myself. And three, she'd bought a bandana and water, used neither, and I'd ended up needing both. That couldn't just be coincidence, could it?

Climbing to my feet slowly, I shook away the cold seeping into my muscles and brushed the sand off my jeans. It was possible that Head Honcho was just waiting to follow me back to Mika. It was possible, but I didn't think it likely. This was a game to him. He would be there, tomorrow. I was sure of it.

The drive home was uneventful. I drove for maybe twenty minutes before deciding that Converse was small enough that he probably didn't need to tail me to find out where I'd gone. Plus, I was freaking tired. When I got the Bed-and-Breakfast, I went straight to our room.

Mika was still fine. I struggled to move the dresser away from the door, but with a couple of watered down swear words—weren't even swear words really—I got it done. Mika tackled me in a hug, and I liberated my gun from her before she shot one of us. Then we went to bed, having already vampire-locked the room earlier.

I crawled into the big, single bed, suppressing a shudder as Mika's warmth flooded over me. It could have been weird, sharing a bed, but honestly, neither Mika and I could sleep by ourselves anymore. I guess that's what being forced into a violent killing spree gets you. Mika couldn't sleep through the night without screaming nightmares, and I barely slept at all. So we had done away with independence the last couple of nights and started sharing a bed. It was just easier that way—consciously and subconsciously knowing we weren't alone in this mess.

"How was your meeting?" Mika murmured quietly.

I stared up at the ceiling, arms tucked behind my head. "I think I was just propositioned by the head honcho of the nest," I said after a while. "He wanted me to be his eternal mistress, and in return, he was going to let you live."

"What'd you say?" Mika was sleepy, not even fazed. I loved that she trusted me so implicitly that she didn't even sound worried about whether I might take the deal or not.

I snorted. "I told him where he could find the body of Number Six." Mika gave a tiny huff of appreciation. I chewed on the inside of my cheek. "So you're pretty special, aren't you?" I ventured slowly.

Beside me, she went still. "Yeah, kind of." Her sleepiness was gone, and that was her only response. No pomp, no explanations. Just an affirmative.

"How special?" I kept my tone gently curious. I wasn't judging or calculating or scared. I just wanted to know.

"I feel stuff sometimes. Like stuff that's going to happen. I just know things."

"You can see the future?" I asked, eyes wide, mind reeling. If she said yes, the age of the superhero was nigh.

"Sometimes. Just variations of what could happen, really. It's more of a feeling, and I sometimes know how to change things to get a different outcome. But I can't control it yet. It just happens."

"Oh," I said. Then a thought popped into my head. "Can you tell me if we're going to be attacked this morning?" A quick glance at the clock confirmed my timeline. It was four o'clock in the morning. Gross. I yawned loudly, unable to help myself. "Because the constant surprises are totally killing my REM sleep cycles."

Mika was silent for a long time. "I tell you that I'm a freak, and you just want to know if we're going to be safe tonight?" Her voice was quiet, and I sensed this was a very dangerous topic. One best navigated when I was not so very unfiltered by exhaustion.

"Well," I said through another yawn. "Safety first, right?"

"We'll be fine," she said shortly.

"Awesome," I said with a groan as I rolled onto my side and promptly fell asleep.