Tiffany Agnes was new to Scotts pack. He had only bitten her as a favour to his mother - to save her life.
After fifteen years of her miserable life dealing with illness, she was enjoying the new found health and strength. But most of all she enjoyed the increased physical attractiveness. Brad Everdale had finally noticed her.
She was currently hiding from him behind the large exhibition marquee after whispering in his ear to 'Come find me'.
Tiffany patted he hair into place and smoothed the wrinkles in her tight dress, totally unaware that something dark watched her from the forest opposite.
It crawled closer drawn by her scent, its delighted vibrations growing stronger and stronger until the slick black surface on its back broke apart. The strange black blob dissolved, morphing with the tiniest hiss into a thin black smoke. The leaves around it rustled gently as the black mist rose. It hovered for just a moment before surging forward toward the girl.
Tiffany didn't even have a chance to scream. In seconds, the dark thing thrust at her face, forcing its way into her surprised mouth. It stole the breath from her, unphased by the yellow glow of her eyes as she clutched her own throat, clawing uselessly at the skin in an effort to free herself.
In seconds it was over. The girl lay lifeless on the damp ground, her blonde hair spreading dramatically over the grass, her glassy eyes frozen in a terrified gaze into the sky.
The dark thing pulled out and left her there.
It wafted slowly back toward the safety of the trees, fat and happy.
Sam shook hands with the plump, middle aged woman and walked back to his brother. Dean had watched from a distance, in no mood to talk to some uptight, country madame hell bent on running a perfect fair.
'She says there are three packs here tonight. They traditionally use this fair as a renewal of a peace treaty and there isn't usually any trouble,' Sam explained.
'Then what are we doing here?' Dean asked gruffly. He had better things to do than chaperone a couple of wolf packs through a tradition. Sam had finally convinced him to leave the were wolves alone if they weren't hurting anyone. But he was damned if he was going to participate in their stupid tribal politics.
He took a swig from his silver flask and glared at a young couple who pushed past him with a fistful of balloons.
'It's not the wolves we need to worry about,' Sam said. He indicated with his arm that they should move away from a mob of seniors and Dean was only too happy to comply. 'Mrs Logan-Hemp says there have been three deaths from Hex bags in the past week alone.'
Dean grunted. 'Hex bags? This town has witches and wolves. What a delightful place.'
Sam shrugged and wandered slowly over to a food stand. 'Yeah, well, apparently there is some kind of magical tree stump that charges the air around here.' He bought himself a vegetarian crepe and ordered Dean a hotdog with the lot.
'And what camp does Mrs Logan-Hemp belong to?' Dean asked. He turned to see that the fair president was still watching them with a doubtful frown. He sent her a forced smile and a wave, to which Mrs Logan-Hemp responded by rolling her eyes and walking away.
'White coven,' Sam said through his mouthful of crepe. 'Been fueding with the black magic for years apparently.'
Dean eyed the hot dog Sam had given him. He was about to take a bite when he noticed something far more enticing.
Not far from where they stood, a long line of young men waited patiently for their turn at the kissing booth. As one spotty little teen stepped aside, Dean noticed the booth occupant – Astrid, Moon Goddess applicant.
'Mature Division,' Dean said aloud with a grin.
He approved of the fair's traditional costume. The attractive brunette had changed from her scoop neck top and shorts into a tight white gown with plunging neck line.
Dean pushed the hotdog back at Sam and went to join the queue.