"Ventura, California Sammy, beautiful isn't it?" Dean asked as he parked his Baby on Main Street.
"Gorgeous," Sam rolled his eyes as he stepped out of the Impala.
"Hey, not only are we hunting together again, but we are also in California still. Beautiful sexy California," Dean trailed off as he eyed a trio of pretty girls walking down the street. In nothing but shorts and a bikini tops.
"Ya, hunting," Sam reminded his brother. He hated how easily Dean became sidetracked by pretty girls. But then again, Dean was sidetracked by girls, cars, sharp knives, demons, anything that would kill him, he loved.
Sam wasn't up to his antics though, only 3 weeks days ago his girlfriend Jessica had died. Died by the hand of some thing, who had also killed his mother and was the cause of all this.
He rubbed his forehead, trying to ignore the coincidences that he had dreamed of the attack on Jessica. Coincidences were never good. That demon wasn't good.
Sam and Dean were brothers and possibly even orphans now. But more importantly they were hunters. Hunters of Monsters and Spirits and Creatures and anything Evil. After their mother was attacked, their dad had taken them on the road and trained them in everything from tracking to conning to dispersing spirits.
Sam had enough though, three years ago, 19 years after his mom had been killed and he forced into this life, Sam had enough of the killing, lying and stealing. He had fought with his dad and left. Left to go to Stanford and become a lawyer. Marry a pretty girl, have a normal life. But then Dean had come back. Dean with the Impala and Dad missing. After stopping the woman in white, Sam was about to return to normalcy, but then Jessica's blood dripped on his face. Coincidence?
Sam hated coincidences.
"Right," Dean smiled, "What is it again?"
"I think a demon. There have been 8 reports in the past year. A bunch of random people disappearing. All of them between 16 and 21, girls, guys, white, Mexican, black, no pattern at all."
"Except they're all between 16 and 65?" He asked as they walked up the street eying for a cheap motel.
"That and they all disappeared randomly. Canyons, beaches, streets, anywhere it seems. Police haven't been able to track them down though," Sam explained.
"Another woman in white?"
"Maybe."
They waled up about a block when they came up to Mission Bell Motel. They checked in and pulled their bags inside the room.
"Just like old times eh Sammy?" Dean asked.
They had grown up in motels, they weren't pretty or nice but they worked.
"Don't call me Sammy," Sam groaned as he tossed his bag on the bed.
"Whatever man," Dean cracked a half smile, "So who was the last victim?"
"Name's Nessandra Wint. Went out to a car show at the harbor. She was seen leaving but hasn't come home yet."
"Whoa, car show?" Dean asked, his eyes lighting up, "Like classic cars?"
"Ya," Sam said, reading his notebook, "Ventura is popular for car shows, has about 45 shows a year. Not counting the cruise nights."
"When's the next show?" Dean asked.
"We're here to work. Shouldn't we check out Nessandra first?" Sam asked.
"Sammy boy, you want to find out who she is you go to where she hangs out. You know where that's at? Car show."