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Dean's silvery eyes glowed in the darkness, strangely wide and eerie. Sam tore desperately at the steering wheel of the Impala, letting out a scream of fustration as the car refused to stop. Dean's top lip curled back from his teeth, his fangs shining in the moonlight.

"I can live forever as a monster, Sammy," he hissed, his voice loud and clear as if he were right beside Sam.

Even as Sam thought that, Dean vanished from the road and appeared in the passengar seat beside him, gripping the leather hard with bone-white, long-nailed fingers. He cocked his head.

"Why don't you join me?" Dean asked, his voice a dry rasp. "Wait, what am I thinking? You're already a monster, aren't you?"

Without another moment's pause he launched himself forwards, his cold fingers snatching for Sam's throat. Sam let out a yell, a thrill of fear rushing through him, and he clawed at the door of the car. Dean grabbed the collar of his coat - Sam span around onto his back, kicking wildly, the door fell open and Sam flew out of the car and hit the tarmac, his skin tearing like paper, blood clogging his nose and mouth, muffling his screams -

"Hey! Hey!"

Sam's eyes flew open and he thrashed wildly against the hands that had closed over his shoulders. The hands tightened and Sam focussed on a ruffled Dean leaning over him, breathing hard.

"Sammy, calm down!" Dean was shouting. "Its okay! Calm down!"

Sam realized that he was gripping Dean's arms tightly, his fingers digging right into his brother's skin. With a huge effort, he let go and forced his tense body to relax, falling back on the bed. Dean slowly let go of him, as if worried he would start struggling again.

"What's wrong with you?" he said shakily. "Don't tell me - another nightmare?"

Sam took a few deep breath, wiping at the sweat on his forehead with a trembling hand. "Yeah," he panted. "S-Sorry..."

"Jesus don't apologise, Sam," Dean replied, moving away to his bag which was lying open on his bed. "I thought you were having a heart attack or something."

Sam sat up slowly, looking around. It was late morning, the sun streaming in through the open window of their motel room. With a groan, he remembered the night before - how they had lost track of the vampires within a few short minutes, how they had driven around town for hours searching for a possible den, how they had finally booked into a motel in the early hours tired, aching and damp. Sam had been so exhausted that he hadn't even bothered to change out of his clothes; he had simply fallen down on his bed and slept.

Dean had apparently been up for some time. He had taken a shower and was now sorting out all their vampire hunting gear from their regular hunting gear, laying it out carefully on the bed. At least he wasn't going to be awkward about this hunt. Sam got up, his head pounding from the movement, and made for the bathroom.

"Hurry up," Dean called after him. "I'm starving."

As Sam stood under the hot cascade of water, he went over the nightmares in his head. Dean as a vampire. Sam almost killing him and then his brother returning the favour. Why was he picturing a vampire-Dean? I can live forever as a monster... Sam felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise up. Yes, vampires were imortal and yes, they were supernatural but could that somehow excuse them from the deal the crossroads demon made? Or, to put it another way, if Dean had no soul to steal, would he still be dragged to hell?

Could Dean be saved by becoming a vampire?

Sam dried himself quickly and headed out into the motel room, dressed in clean clothes. Dean had already packed their vampire gear into a smaller bag and was waiting by the door, examining his watch.

"Finally," he said, pulling open the door. "Grab your coat and lets go find some food."

It was only when they had driven into the city again and parked the car that Dean began to question Sam.

"Come on, then," he said, shouldering his bag. "What's with these nightmares of yours?"

Sam scowled. "They're nothing, Dean. They'll pass eventually."

"Really? Because you haven't slept this badly since your visions stopped. At least tell me what they're about, huh?"

Sam shot him a smirk. "I dreamt you developed a sense of respect towards other human beings and a decent sense of humor. The shock almost killed me."

Dean scowled. "Look, you're gonna have to tell me eventually," he snapped. "You can't hide forever, especially not from me."

Sam pointed across the road. "How about that one?"

Dean glanced over at the diner he was indicating and shrugged. "Whatever."

They made their way across the road and slipped into the diner, picking a table near the window. Dean eagerly grabbed the menu and looked over it.

"We'd better keep an eye out for Gordon," he said as he read it. "Last thing we want is to run into him. How are we even going to find this vampire colony?" he added, glancing up. "It can take weeks, even months, to track one down. Why can't we just leave it to Gordon?"

"Because," Sam replied stonily, "If something isn't evil-"

"Alright, alright!" Dean said, exasperated. "I get the picture. Well, then, you think of a plan for a change."

Sam sighed. A young waitress approached them an he ordered a stack of pancakes before drifting off into his own thoughts again as Dean began to flirt with her. His eyes slid around the diner. He was so engrossed in his own thoughts that he almost missed the tall, thin, dark-haired man sitting in the corner. He blinked and looked again, hardly able to believe it. It was Opium, the vampire he had seen the night before.

Sam looked quickly at Dean, but his brother was watching the waitress as she walked away, and waved his hand irritably when Sam hissed his name. Sam looked back at Opium, his brain buzzing. Why was a vampire sitting in a diner at twelve thirty in the morning? Opium was wearing dark sunglasses and had the collar of his jacket pulled straight up, one long hand lifted to mask his face from the sun. And he wasn't alone... seated in front of him at their table in the dark corner of the diner was a girl with short white-blonde hair and large blue eyes. Could the vampire be hunting? In the middle of the day? No... he didn't look as if he were trying to lure the girl into some secret base to be fed on. Instead she was talking ernestly, her eyes intense with the seriousness of what she was saying, and he was nodding as he listened to her. And she definately was not a vampire.

"Here you go, boys."

"Thanks, honey," Dean said, grinning as the waitress returned and set down two plates. As she turned and left, Dean nudged Sam's hand. "Hey, Sam, look she looks even better from behind..."

"Dean..."

"God, she must work out look at that tight little-"

At that moment the blonde girl reached out and took one of Opium's hand in both of hers, squeezing it gently.

"Dean!" Sam hissed, almost leaping out of his seat in shock. "Dean, look!"

Dean flinched and twisted around, reaching for his gun. There was a slight pause.

"What?" he said, angrily. And then, "Oh. Urgh!" He turned around quickly. "She's touching vampire skin. All cold and clammy and-"

"Dean, focus!" Sam snarled. "Its like they know each other."

"Looks like they more than just know each other, if you get my drift," Dean muttered, spearing a sausage on the end of his fork and stuffing it into his mouth.

Sam absently began to eat his pancake, still watching the couple carefully. Opium was shaking his head, clawing a hand through his hair. The girl nodded insistently, leaning forwards so that she could lower her voice. In the daylight, Opium looked nowhere near as powerful as he had the night before. In the sunlight he looked tired, slightly ill, like someone who had only just got out of hospital. He pulled off his sunglasses, revealing bloodshot eyes which were a surprisingly clear blue without the glare of moonlight, and stabbed a finger at the girl before wiping something off the sunglasses and pushing them back on again.

"You gonna finish that?"

Sam looked at Dean. He had finished about half of his pancakes, while Dean had polished off his entire plate. Rolling his eyes, Sam pushed his plate over to him. Dean tucked into the remainder of his pancakes greedily.

"We've got more important things to think about than your stomach, Dean!" Sam muttered.

"What, like the veggie-vamp?" Dean asked through a mouthfull of pancake. "He's not even doing anything."

Even as he spoke Opium suddenly touched the girls hand and rose to his feet. He strode past them and over to the door. Sam leapt up at once and moved after him, ignoring Dean's protests. He stepped out onto the street in time to see Opium turn left and vanish around a corner. Without bothering to wait for Dean, Sam raced after him. He turned the corner into a deserted road with dull, broken-down houses on the right and a tall brick wall on the left. Opium was halfway down the road, his hands in his pockets, his head ducked right down to avoid the sun as much as possible. Sam sprinted after him.

"Hey! Hey, Opium!"

The vampire stopped and then turned around slowly. He frowned. "How do you know that name?" he asked coldly.

Sam reached him and stopped, panting. "My brother and I saw you and your colony last night, we have to-"

He broke off with a sharp gasp as Opium's hand snaked out and grasped up by the collar, forcing him back against the wall. The vampire's forearm slammed against his throat, balling his other hand into a fist and lifting it threateningly.

"You're the hunter?" he snarled. "You killed Eden?"

Sam froze, his eyes widening in horror. "Wha? No, we were just watching," he rasped. "We didn't, I swear..."

"Eden was one of the best of us," Opium snapped. "He didn't even kill most times when he fed. Why did he deserve to die, huh?"

Sam shook his head, choking as Opium pressed harder against his throat. Black dots were beginning to appear before his eyes... and Opium froze as a silver knife touched his neck.

"Drop him, vamp," Dean ordered. "Or I'll drop you."

Opium turned his head slightly to look at Dean, and the knife carved a small gash in his neck. His eyes narrowed. Then he forcefully shoved Sam away and stepped backwards. In one swift movement he tore his curved knife from his belt and held it out.

"You want a fight, hunter?" he asked. "Lets make it even, then."

Dean scowled at him and pulled Sam up to his feet, gripping him by the arm. "You okay, Sammy?" he asked in a lowered voice.

Sam nodded. "Yeah," he said hoarsely. "Opium, listen to me," he begged. "We weren't the ones who killed your friends, I swear. There's another hunter here, Gordon Walker..."

He trailed off as Opium tensed, his lips parting in a small gasp. Dean smiled grimly.

"You've heard of him, then?"

Opium looked from one to the other. "Why should I believe you?"

"Because if you don't, Gordon will track you down and kill your whole colony."

Opium flinched slightly. Then he lowered the knife, still keeping it grasped tightly in his hand. Dean cautiously lowered his own weapon. Sam let himself relax a little.

"We can handle Walker," Opium said. "We don't need your kind of help."

"Really? He's so ruthless he'll probably kill your girlfriend back there just for looking at you-"

Opium's knife was up again in seconds, cutting Dean's sentence short. "You stay away from Vicky," he growled. "If you touch her, I swear to god..." he shook his head and shoved his knife away. "Stay away from all of us," he snarled. Then he turned away and began to walk again.

Sam made to follow him, but Dean held out a restraining hand.

"Don't," he muttered. "He doesn't want our help. Looks like we touched a nerve."

Sam sighed. "He doesn't understand. We have to try and get through to him."

"Or," Dean said slowly, "We could follow him and find out where his colony's hiding."

Six o'clock that evening found Sam and Dean crouched behind a large bush on the side of a road, shivering grimly as the rain ate through their coats. Opium had proven almost impossible to follow but they had eventually tracked him to a small, broken-down wooden house on the very edge of the city. It was dusk now, and they were hoping to see some movement. An hour ago Dean had run over to the house to look through the window and had seen only four vampires asleep in the front room; Lusing was missing. Sam would have felt much better if he had known where all of the vampires were. The Impala was close by, hidden just around the corner in case they had to make a run for it, but if Lusing suddenly turned up Sam doubted they would get as far as the car.

"Why are we here?" Dean asked for the millionth time.

"To convince the colony to leave the city and turn to a blood-free diet," Sam replied. He winced. Even he could tell that the plan was crap.

"Then why can't we just get in there and start convincing?" Dean hissed. "I'm freezing my ass of here!"

Sam shook his head. "We have to wait for Lusing, he's the one in charge," he replied irritably.

"Why can't we wait inside?!"

Sam rolled his eyes and shifted his weight. As he opened his mouth to answer a car suddenly pulled up outside the house, and the Winchester brothers ducked down behind the bush. Lusing climbed out of the car, opened the back door and pulled out a struggling figure. He strode towards the house, dragging the figure behind him.

"Damn," Dean whispered.

Sam had recognized her too - it was the girl Opium had called Vicky from the diner that morning, and she looked scared.

"Something tells me Opium's in trouble," Sam muttered.

Dean shot a glance at him and jerked his head. Together they ran silently over to the house and dodged around to the back. The window of the kitchen was broken - Dean gave Sam a leg-up through it and Sam pulled him up after him. The kitchen had a door leading through to the front room and a doorway leading straight through to the front door. Sam and Dean crept over to the door to the front room and edged it open a little, peering through it. They had timed it perfectly - just as they looked through into the room, Lusing strode inside with Vicky stumbling behind him.

The vampires looked up, blinking blearily; Opium leapt to his feet as if he had sustained an electric shock. Lusing smiled, showing his fangs.

"Look what I found," he said silkily, running his hand through Vicky's hair.

"Aw, excellent," another vampire said, rising to his feet. "I was just getting hungry-"

"NO!"

Every head turned to look at Opium, who was standing rigid against the wall, his hands balled into shaking fists. Lusing looked thrilled, as if he had never had so much fun in his life. Sam and Dean exchanged a wary glance.

"Something wrong, Opium?" Lusing asked innocently. "Why, its almost as if you have feelings for this pathetic excuse for a life..."

Opium stepped forwards. "Lusing," he said in a low voice, so quiet that Sam barely heard him. "Please... you said you didn't care..."

"That was before hunters mysteriously appeared in the city," Lusing snarled. "I wonder who could have told them?"

"I wouldn't," Vicky gasped. "I would never-"

She broke off with a short yelp as Lusing fisted a hand in her hair and wrenched her head back.

"Now, now, wrench," he said through his bared fangs. "Speak when spoken to."

"Let her go!" Opium's voice rang with rage and power; Lusing actually seemed to hesitate. Opium shook his head. "Why are you doing-"

"Because I want you to accept what you are!" Lusing roared. "Like the rest of us! You can't keep pretending forever."

Opium moved so fast that Sam barely saw him. One moment he was standing against the wall, the next Lusing roared with pain as a knife plunged into his arm and Opium pulled Vicky from his grasp, shoving her roughly behind him. The other vampires leapt to their feet, hissing with fury. Opium faced them, his lips curling back from his fangs. Sam reached for his machette.

"Dean," he whispered. "They'll rip him apart..."

"I know," Dean breathed back. "On three... one..."

Lusing had torn out the knife and thrown it away. He was now advancing on Opium, his eyes burning with rage. "You'll pay for that one, you freak!" he snarled.

"Two..."

"I've given you so many chances, I've trusted you again and again while others would have thrown you out," Lusing said. "But you will never learn. You will always be weak, pathetic, human!"

"Thre-"

Even as Sam made to get up, the front door burst open and the vampires all leapt back, spinning around. Sam's mouth went dry as a solitary man appeared in the doorway, a burning torch in one hand and a long, curved blade in the other.

Gordon Walker had found them at last.

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