Three

"I'll play ya," Dean called over the noise. A few people turned around to look at him and he smiled arrogantly back at them.

It was then that Sam finally got a look at the woman as she stepped out from behind a tall black man dressed in a dark blue cotton shirt. She had reddish-brown hair which was pulled into a ponytail and wore a fitted dark green tank top which showed off a small tattoo on her shoulder that Sam immediately recognized. He tried to grab Dean's arm, but missed, his fingers trailing over the soft leather as his brother moved through the crowd.

"How much are you..." Dean's voice trailed off as he came face to face with the woman.

"Hello Dean," Reggie said. Sam pushed his way to the front of the group, coming out beside Dean, who was frozen to the spot. "Hey there, Sam."

"Reggie," Sam stuttered out his greeting, still in shock. Dean was gaping at the woman when she smacked him on the shoulder.

"What are you guys doing here?" she asked, clearly surprised to see them. She walked over to one of the empty tables and grabbed a bottle of beer, taking a swig.

"Same reason you are," Dean said, finally finding his voice again.

"Bobby sent you, didn't he?" Reggie slammed her beer onto the table which caused the other bottles to shake, a few clattering together.

"Yes, Bobby sent us," Dean snapped. "When he hadn't heard from you in a while he got a little worried."

Reggie rolled her eyes. "Bobby worries too much. I'm fine, as you can see, and I was going to call him when I finished up here," Reggie said. "He shouldn't have called you guys," she added, absentmindedly.

Sam noticed that Reggie was looking past them. He followed her gaze to the bar where a stunningly beautiful blonde woman wearing a tight, light blue dress, was standing. She was looking around the bar, as if searching for someone. He heard Reggie mumble something that sounded like "dammit Bobby" and pushed her way through the crowd towards the woman.

"Where the hell is she going?" Dean snapped as he turned to follow after her. Sam grabbed his arm, holding him in place as he watched Reggie greet the blonde and motion towards the dart area. The blonde nodded and followed Reggie back over.

Something about the expression on Reggie's face made Sam feel suddenly uneasy. But, by the time she had pushed her way back through the crowd of men, the look was gone and she was smiling.

"I'm glad you decided to come out after all," Reggie was saying as she stopped in front of Sam and Dean. The blonde smiled at them kindly and Sam smiled back. "Adrianne, this is Sam Kelton and Dean Bradford. Sam, Dean, this is Adrianne Monroe."

"I hope you weren't taking all of these poor guys' money, Reggie," Adrianne said, a soft southern drawl hinted in her voice.

Sam smiled wider and shook his head. "She was just about to play my partner, as a matter of fact."

Adrianne giggled at him and nodded. "Sounds like I'm just in time to watch the massacre then."

Sam heard Dean grumble something that he couldn't make out and he turned to look at his brother. Dean wore a defeated expression as he looked from Adrianne, who was staring at Sam, to Sam. He growled in frustration and yanked off his jacket.

"Let's see what you got," Dean snapped at Reggie as he grabbed the blue-tailed darts off the nearest table. "Ladies first."

Reggie chuckled and headed to the dart board, grabbing her darts and returning to where Dean was standing. She threw her first dart and, just as before, expertly scored a bull's-eye. Adrianne took a small step forward, her arm brushing against Sam's, and leaned towards him.

"She's got to be the best dart player I have ever met. I kind of feel bad for your partner," she said into his ear.

"Oh, he can hold his own, don't worry," Sam replied. He turned back to see Reggie pulling her darts out of the board. Sam was shocked to see that only two had actually made the bull's-eye. Reggie strolled back to where Dean was waiting and shrugged at Sam and Adrianne.

Dean smiled and pushed up the sleeves of his gray shirt. He threw his first and second dart quickly, both of them scoring bull's-eyes and he looked around at the cheering crowd of men that still surrounded them, beaming from ear to ear.

"You said you were partners?" Adrianne asked.

"Yeah, we're cops. Detectives, actually," Sam replied. Another cheer roared through the crowd as Dean's final dart struck another bull's-eye.

"That's cool," Adrianne said.

"How do you know Reggie?" Sam was trying his best not to stare at the woman.

"I met her when she first came to town. She stopped in where I work to apply for a job as a file clerk and we just hit it off. She's a really great girl." Sam nodded and watched as Reggie threw another bull's-eye. "Do you know her well?"

"No, we just met tonight," Sam said, that strange sense of unease he'd felt watching Reggie earlier fueling him to lie. He looked at Adrianne again, trying to place the feeling and was startled by the crystal blue color of her eyes. She blinked up at him and smiled. Sam smiled back, the sensation fading as he heard the crowd boo loudly.

All three of Reggie's darts were stuck in the center of the board. "She's certainly…talented," Sam commented, keeping up the lie, as Dean rolled his shoulders and threw his first dart. It missed the bull's-eye by only a few centimeters. Sam smiled as his brother's face flooded red in shock.

"Your partner, Dean, ain't so bad either."

Adrianne took a deep breath through her nose and let it out slowly, closing her eyes and tilting her head slightly to the right. Sam watched her intently, that uneasy feeling returning again. There was a loud crashing sound that caught his attention and he looked up, trying to find its source.

Two men stood by an overturned table glaring at each other. "Maybe you should go over there," Adrianne suggested. Sam looked down at her, confused. "Since you're a detective, I mean. If they call the local police, they'll close the bar for the night and I won't get to stand here talkin' to you anymore." Sam nodded, but stayed put. The last thing he and Dean needed was police attention.

"That sounds like my cue to call it a night," Reggie stated and Sam turned to see that most of the group of men were gone. In fact, most of the patrons in the bar were heading for the exits. Dean joined them as they stood watching the scene. Reggie clapped Dean on the back. "I guess we'll have to pick this up another night?"

"I guess so." He glanced at Sam and nodded towards Adrianne, raising his eyebrows in a silent question. Sam shook his head no and Dean snorted at him. "Sammy and I are gonna hit the road. Maybe we'll run into you ladies again?"

"I sure hope so," Adrianne said.

Reggie led the way outside and Sam saw Reggie's dark blue 1966 Plymouth Fury Sport parked at the edge of the lot only a few spots from the Impala. Adrianne stopped in front of a flashy, red Audi A4 Cabriolet.

"Well, this is me," she said, turning to Reggie. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Adrianne climbed into her car and pulled out of the parking lot, beeping once as she sped off down the street.

"See you tomorrow?" Dean asked, eyeing Reggie with bewilderment.

"We're supposed to have lunch together," Reggie replied nonchalantly. She pulled on her black leather jacket and started for her car.

"Where do you think you're going?" Dean snapped as he walked after her.

"I was planning on going back to my motel room and going to bed."

"That's it? You're just gonna to head off without another word?"

"What would you like for me to say, Dean?"

"How about why the hell you didn't call Bobby to tell him you were okay, that you were alive? Or where the hell you've been staying for the past several days since, according to the motel clerk Bobby talked to, you checked out three days ago."

Reggie groaned and spun around, stopping a few feet from the Plymouth. "I didn't call Bobby because I didn't know I needed to. I'm a grown woman after all. I hadn't realized I was required to check in. And about the motel? I don't know what to tell you, the stupid clerk was mistaken," Reggie snapped.

Sam stood by the Impala, quietly watching the two of them argue. Dean and Reggie stood glaring at each other for a minute, then a small smile began to spread across Reggie's face.

"This seems to have become a recurring thing with us," she teased. Dean tried to remain indifferent, but it was too difficult and he shook his head as he began to laugh. Sam gaped at both of them. "Are you guys staying at The Weathered Moccasin?"

"That's its name? I thought it was called Teepee Hell," Dean said. Reggie snorted and shook her head. "Yeah, that's where we're staying," he answered.

"Then I guess I'll see you guys back there." Reggie climbed into the Plymouth and started the car, the engine roaring loudly. She rolled down the window as Dean strolled over to Sam and the Impala. "What's your room number?"

Sam fished the motel key from his pocket and looked at the wooden teepee hanging from the ring. "Room six," he called. Reggie started to laugh again. "What?"

"I'm in room five."

Sam laughed and stuck the key back into his pocket. Dean was already behind the wheel, the car running, waiting for him to get in. Reggie pulled out of the parking lot just as Sam closed his door and Dean sped off, driving after her.

They followed Reggie back to Highway 81, noting the darkness that crept out at them as they drove down the unlit road. It was eerie, made worse by the fact that they really had no idea where they were. Sam was relieved when he saw Reggie's turn signal go on and her taillights disappear a few seconds later as she turned into the motel's drive.

She was waiting for them, leaning against her car with her hands stuffed into the pockets of her jeans, when they pulled in a minute later. Dean parked the Impala next to her and he and Sam got out. "The message you left Bobby said you'd figured out what was going on out here?" Sam asked as they walked along the narrow cement sidewalk to their rooms.

"I think maybe it would be better to talk about this inside," Reggie said, looking around cautiously. She unlocked her motel room door and flipped on the light switch. Sam and Dean followed her inside, Dean shutting the door behind him.

The wall above the small TV set was covered with copies of the same newspaper clippings Reggie had left behind at Bobby's as well as several various articles they hadn't seen. "Okay, so we're inside now. What's going on around here?" Dean asked as Sam went over to the wall.

"It's just a working theory right now. I haven't been able to gather enough information to really be sure," Reggie began. She sat down on the edge of the unmade bed and twirled her room key absentmindedly around her finger.

"What is it, Reggie," Sam asked. She began tapping her foot nervously and Sam went to sit down beside her.

"I've never encountered these things before. I mean, I've only ever read about them and heard stories from other hunters, so I can't be completely certain." Reggie stood up and began to pace. Dean sat watching her from one of the chairs at the small dining table. His calm demeanor amazed Sam. "You'll probably think I'm crazy, but what the hell, right?" she asked, turning back to look at them, her face both hopeful and hesitant.

"Just tell us what you think it is that's abducting people," Sam said.

"All right." Reggie took a deep breath and let it out in a whoosh. "Ghouls."

"Gazuntite."

"Oh come on, Dean," Reggie groaned. "That isn't funny."

Dean blinked at her and then looked at Sam. "You're serious?"

"Of course I'm serious! You asked me what I thought was going on out here and I'm telling you what I think," Reggie cried. She yanked the other chair away from the table and plopped down on it. Dean got up and wandered over to the cluttered wall. "I think that there are more than one and they move from town to town, collecting people."

"Collecting them for what?" Sam asked and Dean turned to glare at him.

"Food, I guess. Sixteen people go missing in a town over a specific time span and then - poof! No more abductions for another seven years."

"Don't you think that someone would notice a group of nasty, pasty-white freaks wandering around town?" Dean asked.

Reggie rolled her eyes and groaned. "Haven't you ever read the legends? They can look normal when they want to, when they need to blend in. They usually don't reveal their true form until chow time." She got up from her chair and pulled open the top drawer of the dresser. Reggie withdrew a battered looking book and Sam realized it was a journal, like the one their father used to write in.

Sam had been painstakingly transferring the data from John's journal onto his laptop, making it easier to cross-reference the information. Reggie flipped to a particular page and handed the journal to Dean. "That's what Frank documented on them." Sam saw Dean flinch at the mention of Reggie's late uncle. Reggie caught it too. "Don't do that, Dean. Do I have to keep telling you that what happened before wasn't your fault?" She squeezed his shoulder lightly.

Dean scanned the pages before handing the worn book to Sam. "So how are we supposed to find these bastards if they're basically walking around incognito all the time?"

"I have a thought about that. You see, according to what I've found on ghouls, their veil slips a little when they're hunting. They select their victims based on a pheromone that's released when a person is scared. The better the pheromone smells, the more likely you'll end up as their next meal. The most obvious sign is their eyes; they're a vicious shade of red. When they're sniffing you up, deciding if you're their very own version of filet mignon, you can see their true color." Sam handed the book back to Reggie and stood up.

"If that's right, then there is no way for us to know for sure…"

"Unless one of us is the bait," Dean cut in. Sam gawked at his brother.

"No way, Dean. That's crazy," Sam cried, shaking his head.

"Sam's right," Reggie added. "It would be way too dangerous. These things are extremely cunning as well as insanely fast and unbelievably strong. They've managed to live amongst their food source and still remain completely concealed for centuries. Your plan would just be too risky."

"Okay, so one of you come up with a better plan, then," Dean huffed. He sat back down and leaned back in the chair, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I've actually been working on something," Reggie stated.

Okay, so I know what you're thinking: Ghouls? Really? Stealing from Eric and Crew a little? Well, no actually, I didn't. I finished writing my story a little over three months before they did their episode, "Jump the Shark". As you'll see (if you continue reading) I made up my own mythology which differs a bit from that on Supernatural. I rather prefer my take on the creatures (not to toot my own horn or antyhing...) and I hope you like it too.

And, as always, Review Review Review. Thanks!