A/N: I don't own Sam, I don't own Dean, and I don't own a 360. Damn. I really wanted one. Lata's yo! Enjoy the new chapter.
At eight o'clock the next morning, Dean was jerked out of his sleep by a loud knocking at the door.
"Who is it?" dean called out as Sam sat up on his elbows. Both men were rumpled from sleep and neither was happy about the time.
"It's me!" Anna's voice called. "Let me in! The books are here."
Sam grinned and nodded to Dean who rolled out of bed.
"This couldn't wait until after coffee?" Dean grumbled as he staggered to the door. He grabbed his jeans and yanked them on before pulling the door open. He groaned and shut his eyes against the sunlight, peeking through his fingers at a grinning Anna.
"Can I come in?" she laughed, secretly appreciating the shirtless Dean's physique. She stepped past Dean, ducking beneath his arm, when he grunted and moved back. By this time, Sam had gotten out of bed and pulled on his own jeans and a shirt. He smiled at Anna when she grinned a hello at him.
"I brought caffeine," she chirped and crossed the room toward Sam, holding out a white and green cup. "Quad venti nonfat extra foam caramel macchiato."
"I love you," Sam groaned and took the cup from her, pulling the lid off to savor the aroma of espresso and sweetened milk.
"I know," Anna laughed and turned to Dean, holding out the other cup. "And for you, venti drip black with two raw sugars and cinnamon."
"Cinnamon?" Dean raised a brow.
"You never complained in Texas," Anna shrugged as she sat on the bed. Dean grunted and lowered himself onto the other side, taking the coffee. He sniffed at the steam rising through the lid and took a tentative sip. Anna grinned and leaned back against the pillows, pulling several small books from her satchel, along with a diet DP. Dean narrowed his eyes at the way too perky brunette snuggling into his warm spot, torn between finding her sexy and pushing her away to reclaim his spot.
"The cousins sent the books by the family concord," Anna began. Dean watched her lovingly stroke the leather volumes and sighed, taking another swallow of coffee. "The flight was delayed over London due to weather, though, so they only arrived about an hour ago."
Dean caught Sam's amused smile and just shook his head in response, his eyes softening as they watched Anna, who continued speaking, oblivious.
"It seems Pastor B. was part of an immigration to the states after the Torsaker witch hunts in the 1670s. He relocated with other immigrants to the Pennsylvania settlement, so some of the early journals are in Swedish," she shook her head and pulled out two of the journals. "I don't suppose either of you speaks Swedish?"
Dean snorted and Sam just shrugged.
"I was pre-law."
Anna sighed and handed a journal to each brother.
"You take the English. We'll see how rusty my Swedish is."
"You speak Swedish?" Sam sounded impressed.
"French cousins with huge crushes on their ski instructors," Anna grinned. "I loved being thirteen."
Sam laughed as Anna tossed her bag across the room into a chair by the window before kicking off her shoes and pulling the covers up to her knees, settling in to read. Dean stretched out beside her after clicking the heater on to a low setting and opened his journal. Sam watched them both and fought the urge to laugh, opening his own volume instead.
Linnea Anders stood in the chill morning air, unusual for this late in spring, and stared through the lit window of Dr. Phineas Bowden's historic home on Mississippi Avenue. Her gray eyes watched the descendant of her betrayer read a book with his loving wife curled up beside him on the couch with a magazine of her own. Linnea hated the man for enjoying his life. She begrudged him this moment of tranquil happiness. Soon, though, he would know her pain. He would feel the stone madness, the fear of night.
The sun broke the horizon and Linnea jumped to the ground from her perch atop a neighboring house's porch and felt the warmth move through her skin. She watched her skin resume its soft pink hue and felt her limbs stretching to their normal length, her spine straightening and her hair growing back to its usual length. When the pins and needles in her veins stopped, she reached up to pull a tendril of flame red hair forward, examining the ends.
Her cold eyes moved back to the window at the sudden laugh she heard. When the curtain was pulled shut, she felt the pain and rage explode in her breast. They were making love.
Before long, though, it would be her turn. She would be making love to the blond, the blood of his dark haired companions used to strengthen the spell, and Bowden would watch. Linnea would have her new love and a new human body. Phineas Bowden would know what it felt like to hurt and he would know the pain she had suffered for nearly five centuries. She would walk in the sun a free woman while Phineas Bowden's infinite torture would be just beginning.
Pulling the day's clothes from their usual hiding spot behind a bush, Linnea dressed and quickly left the neighborhood. Today she would find his name, and tonight she would make him hers.
"I don't get it," Anna growled, frustrated. Her Swedish had been woefully unequal to the task, and she had resorted to having to use an online translator engine to work her way through the journal.
"Having a rough time?"
Anna threw Dean a scowl from her seat at the table. The second she had stood up, Dean had jumped at the warm spot and pulled the blankets up to his waist. The day had grown warmer making the heater unnecessary, but the bed was still inviting. Dean chuckled and winked at Anna who sighed and looked back at the small book.
"I'm translating the words easily enough, but they don't mean anything. It reads almost as though he was using a code of some sort." Anna shook her head and flipped back a few pages in her own notebook. "It was okay until he mentioned a betrothal in the parish, but now he's using this code, and I don't know how…" Anna's voice trailed off as a movement outside the window caught her attention.
"Something wrong?" Sam asked, crossing to peer out the window.
"No," Anna shook her head. "I thought I saw something, but…" She blew out a sigh and turned away from the window, returning to the journal. "I wonder if Bowden can help."
"That guy from the college?" Dean asked.
"Yeah." Anna stood and tossed the three Swedish journal into her bag, followed by her computer. "I'm gonna go see him. Maybe he and his wife can help me translate these faster."
"Here," Anna grabbed the journals from the boy's hands and tossed them in her bag, pulling out two folders for them to take instead. "You go through the police reports and take a look at those crime scenes. We'll meet back here around six.."
"You think those journals will take that long?" Sam raised a brow.
"No," she answered, pulling her shoes on and swatting Dean's feet away from where she wanted to sit. "But it may take that long for y'all to check out those sights."
Dean frowned and nudged Anna's butt with a toe.
"This report says the body was found in a grotto at the edge of a cemetery." Anna gave him a "so what" look and Dean shook his head. "That sounds different from the others we've read about."
"It is," she nodded. "This is the closest anyone got to seeing what was doing this. The guy survived for about ten minutes after a pair of teenagers found him."
Dean's brow's knit as he flipped through pages in the report.
"The guy said it was 'the girl.' Apparently our big-bad is a hottie by day and a killer by night."
"She a blond by any chance?" Dean joked.
"Men and blonds," Anna shook her head as she moved toward the door. "Maybe I'll get highlights for the summer."
Dean looked up as the door shut behind Anna, her laughter muffled by the wood. Sam chuckled.
"How does she manage to get more info on the case we brought her along for?"
"Better connections?" Dean shrugged. "Come on, let's go."
Anna had great connections, and she loved the perks that came along with such connections. At the moment, she was enjoying homemade hot cocoa and ginger snaps as Bowden and his wife, Elsa, a plus-size model who had retired after marrying Phineas, pored over the journals, leaving Anna to dig through the two in English.
"You're right, Anna," Bowden mumbled. "This seems to be a code or something, but it's not a very good one."
"You cracked it?" Anna pushed the chocolate away and leaned over the table. For the first time, Bowden caught a glimpse of bandages on her arm and then he laughed at the eager expression in her eyes.
"I think so," he chuckled. "Lean back before you hurt yourself more and let me read this to you."
Anna snorted and moved back to her seat. Bowden felt easier about his old friend's daughter, watching her scowl like a grounded teenager.
"Okay, listen up," Bowden grinned.