Dean lowers Emory's limp body to the floor. Wet crimson blood covers her chest. She is still breathing but the breaths are shallow. He can hear a slight wheezing sound escaping her lips. Dean hears the bar door open behind him. He jerks around to take aim. "Hopefully, the douche bag decided to come back and finish the job", burns through his thoughts. Sam enters instead.

Dean holsters his gun and focuses on Emory. Moving his hands over her chest, he methodically searches for the bullet hole. He can't find anything. There is only blood and lots of it. After a moment, he feels like he is being watched. Dean looks up and finds Emory watching him.

"If you wanted to touch my breasts, all you had to do was ask."

Dean jumps back and pulls his gun, aiming it squarely between her eyes. "What the hell are you?"

Sam moves to stand beside Dean, his gun trained on Emory as well. She sits up holding her hands out to her sides. "You have nothing to fear from me."

"Yeah, right, I can't just take your word for it." Dean grates out.

Emory frowns as she looks between them. "Let me lock up and you can do all of the tests you want?" Sam and Dean look at each other. "This isn't my first rodeo, boys." Dean lowers his gun and nods. Regret slices through him. Why couldn't she just be normal?

A couple of hours later, Emory rubs her wrists once Dean removes the restraints.

Dean leans against the cabinet of the kitchenette. "What are you?"

Sam leans forward in his chair, watching her intently. "Who are you?"

Emory looks from one to the other. "As your tests proved, I am not a demon; I'm not a vampire or any other monster."

"That we've met." Dean chimes in.

"I don't kill people and I sure as hell don't eat them."

"Then what are you?" Sam inquires.

"I'm a soulmate."

"What the hell is that?" Dean scoffs.

"I'm a direct descendant of the Vestal Virgins." Dean and Sam share a look. "Once a high ranking virgin known as Vitalis Maximus completes her servitude she is awarded the opportunity to consummate the occasion with the god she serves. Her offspring from this mating has the capacity to be a soulmate."

Sam edges forward on his chair. "Are you the child of a Vitalis Maximus?"

"No, I'm a descendant of one."

"What does a soulmate do?"

"We search for our mate."

Dean scoffs and pushes off the counter. "Give me a friggin' break. Are you talking about true love or something?"

Emory frowns at his sarcasm, "If that's what you want to call it."

Dean rolls his eyes. "I need a drink." He opens the fridge and finds it empty. Remembering he went to the bar to get a drink, he shakes his head and slams it shut.

Sam remains focused on Emory. "That doesn't explain how you can get shot and survive."

"I'm immortal."

"Is your name actually Emory West?" Sam pushes.

Emory returns her attention to Sam. "Yes and no." She purses her lips and absently tugs at the silver chain around her neck. She sighs before speaking. In a clipped British accent she begins her story. "I was born Elizabeth Westlake in England, in the year 1725. I had a normal childhood. My mother died when I was born so I was raised by my father and four brothers."

"How did you know you were a soulmate?" Sam interjects.

"I was in my early twenties when I discovered I was different. I tripped on some slippery flagstones."

"So you skinned your knee and it healed." sneered Dean.

Emory's angry stare moves to Dean. "No, I tripped on some slippery flagstones and fell off a friggin' castle. You usually don't walk away from that."

"You don't look twenty."

"I age slowly. What's your excuse?"

"Dean." Sam interrupts their exchange. "Then what happened?"

Emory shoots Dean one last glare before resuming her story. "I was covered in blood and mud and scared. I ran away that night. Much later I met someone that was like me. She told me about soulmates. I spent my time traveling around Europe working with hunters. I was useful because I was immortal and wasn't trying to kill them." Emory drops the silver chain she has been absently toying with. She reverts to her American accent. "In 1902, I immigrated to America and I've been here ever since."

Sam leans back in his chair. He watches Emory as she picks at some dried blood on her arm. "Have you found your mate?"

"No."

"Until you do you are immortal?"

Emory returns her attention to Sam. "Yes."

"Do you know who he is?"

Emory shakes her head no. Dean pushes off the counter. "What the hell, Sam. We aren't running a paranormal dating service."

"I know that. It doesn't mean we can't help."

"So you want to help her find her guy?" Dean scowls as he prowls around the kitchenette. "Wait a minute." He turns to Emory. "You haven't found your guy yet?"

"No."

"And you're pledged to one guy?"

"Yes." Emory answers with exasperation infused in her answer.

Dean is deep in thought adding up the dates in his head. Shock blows through him at the number his brain refuses to accept. It couldn't be true. He levels Emory with a disbelieving expression willing her to deny it. "You're a 289-year-old virgin?"

Disgust plays on her face. "That's your take away, after everything I've told you?"

"Is it true?" Dean pushes.

"Yes. Are we done?" Emory's tone is defiant and irritated. Sam nods; Dean just stares at her. "Will this keep you from helping to find my friend?"

"No." Sam answers instantly. "And I found something."

Emory moves to the table and Dean stands near her looking over her shoulder. Sam pulls out some photos and a log sheet. "While I was investigating the original killer, George Lee Cooper, I found photos of him wearing this chain." The chain is silver in color with a Celtic symbol of twisted knots engraved in a pendant. "I checked property logs and didn't find anything about what had happened to that chain. "

Emory hands the photo to Dean. "Maybe he was buried in it?"

"There would be a list of items. I called Dr. Ramsay and he confirmed that nothing was buried with him, because he was cremated."

"So we are looking for a cursed object." Dean tosses the photo on the table.

"I also found the roll call of attendees at the execution." Emory and Dean lean in closer and look over Sam's shoulder at the piece of paper. Highlighted in yellow is the name Officer John Maxwell.

"That's the sheriff," states Emory in disbelief. "You think he took the chain. Why would he do that?" She looks between Dean and Sam.

"I don't know, but we've got to find that chain." Dean saunters away from the table, an uneasy feeling gathering in the pit of his stomach.

"I'll go talk to the sheriff about Kathryn and maybe I can snoop around his office a little."

"We can't ask you to do that."

"Sam, you're not asking. I'm telling you what I'm going to do." Emory checks her watch. "I have to get home. Let me know if you need anything."

Dean crosses to the door and opens it for her. Another pang of regret whispers through Dean before he decides to follow her out to her car. He watches the sway of her ass as she moves. I hope this guy is worth it, slides through his mind, before a thought forms.

"So you're a tease?"

Emory turns around just as she reaches her car door. "I'm only a tease if I promise something I don't deliver."

"There was an implication."

"An implication is called flirting."

Emory leans against her car and Dean leans against Baby. She watches him intently until the silence stretches; neither of them move or speak to fill it. "Dean, ask me what you really want to?"

Dean looks around. Not sure if he wants to know the answer. Standing up, he moves closer until he is within a few inches of touching her. "Why did you jump in front of that bullet?" He watches Emory's face as a Mona Lisa smile flickers across her lips. She reaches up with one hand and lightly caresses his cheek. The heat from her touch sears the coldness inside him like an electric current.

"Because sweetheart, you might be a jackass, but you are worth saving." Emory slides her hand to his neck and pulls him down before she places a soft kiss on his grizzled cheek. A small smile lights across her lips as she lets him go. Dean watches her open her car door and slide behind the wheel. He closes the door for her and returns to lounge against Baby, watching her leave. His thoughts are racing. I'm worth saving. How long had it been since he had heard those words. He didn't feel particularly worthy. All the killing, all the lies, and all of the blood that surrounded him had grown into a great big cold ruthless darkness inside him.