Chapter 4

It was early evening and Dean was sprawled out on his bed flipping through the channels on the television when his cell started ringing on the nightstand. He rolled toward it and grabbed it to answer.

"H'lo," Dean greeted the caller hoping it was Bobby.

"Dean son, how are things going?" Bobby asked.

"Bobby," Dean replied sitting up and putting the phone on speaker, motioning Sam to join him. "You're on speaker with both of us."

"Hey Bobby," Sam greeted him as he sat down beside Dean so he could join in on the conversation. "Thanks for getting back to us."

"Hello Sam. It took some digging and talking to several contacts before I found some information that might help you."

"Great! Because we are coming up with squat here. What did you find out?" Dean questioned.

"I think you're dealing with a witch or warlock," Bobby started. "The references to stolen memories we came up with all mentioned using them in a sacrifice of some kind, for some ancient, dark magic rituals. There wasn't anything clear about it and the most recent reference was still centuries old."

"A sacrifice to what or for what?" Sam questioned.

"It could be to summon an entity or dark forces or to gain powers or favors from some demon or creature. You really can't rule anything out here."

"Well, we know how to stop a witch or warlock," Dean stated. "I have plenty of witch killing bullets in the trunk."

"The problem is going to be identifying who the witch or warlock is. They're not going to be wearing a sign around their neck," Sam stated as he sat back in his chair as he mulled over the information.

"You two be careful working this case," Bobby told them. "You know how fast a hunt can go sideways."

"We will Bobby."

"If you need my help, let me know."

"Thanks Bobby," Sam replied.

"Talk to you later Bobby," Dean told him before hanging up.

"I'm going to start checking out business owners and see if the local cops have any security footage I can watch," Sam offered.

"I'm going to go grab a beer at a bar nearby and see if anyone has any gossip," Dean decided getting up and heading for the bathroom. When he was done, Dean stepped out and grabbed the room key, car keys, and his jacket. "I'll be back later. Don't wait up."

"You want me to come with you?" Sam asked.

"Naw, go do your thing. We'll cover more ground this way. Later." Dean headed out the door with a wave and got into the Impala to drive to a bar he had noticed when they were out earlier.

Sam got back online and found a backdoor into the police database to see if there was any footage he could download. He knew it would probably be better to let Dean do his thing alone and do what he does best. When he got into their system, Sam searched for any videos linked to the cases to download and watch. If he was lucky, he might find some possible people that they could check out.

It didn't take Dean long to get to the bar and found parking so he could go inside. He stepped into the bar and paused to let his eyes adjust to the dim lightning looking around at the customers before making his way to the bar. He sat at the end with his back to the wall like he had been taught.

"Good evening, what can I get for you to drink?" the bartender asked as he wiped the spot in front of Dean.

"Give me some of that," Dean ordered pointing to one of the beers on tap. He pulled some bills from his pocket to drop on the bar.

"Coming right up." The bartender pulled a frosted tall glass mug from the cooler and filled it from the tap. He sat it in front of Dean and took the money, making change before heading to the other end of the bar.

Dean picked the mug up and took a sip, letting the flavor wash over his taste buds and the tartness tickle them as he swallowed. The bar wasn't crowded yet since it was still early. He studied the patrons scattered around the room, sitting at tables as they socialized and drank. He wasn't sure who he was looking for since anyone could be the witch/warlock. He would wait until a few more customers showed up before striking up a conversation with some of them.

"Well, hello there," a female addressed Dean as she let her eyes roam over his sexy body. "Haven't seen you in here before. Are you new to the area?"

"Just passing through," Dean replied trying to be polite, but not interested in what she had to offer.

"Is that so? Would you like some company?" she cooed leaning toward him so he could get a good view of her ample breast and batting her eyes as she ran a finger over his hand.

"Thanks, but I'm good." Dean moved his hand away from hers to let her know he didn't want the company.

"Your loss," she snipped grabbing her drink and stalking away.

He shook his head thinking she was trying too hard to land a guy. He continued to nurse his beer as the place began to get busy. After getting a refill, he ambled to the pool tables and got a game going. Dean threw some random questions out to see what response he would get. He won a little money from the pool games but not enough to have any ill feelings from the losers.

It was getting late, and Dean decided to call it a night and drained the last of his beer. He got up and headed to the restrooms first and then out into the cool night. He paused for a moment breathing in some fresh air before walking through the parking lot toward where he had left the Impala. When he reached the car, he pulled his keys out and looked up when a stranger dressed in black was suddenly by his side.

Before Dean could react, the stranger blew a cloud of red dust into his face, making him cough and wheeze as he batted at the dust dropping his keys and kicking them slightly under the car. As he breathed in the red dust, all his senses shut down and he went into a trance-like state.

The stranger took Dean's arm and led him toward an alley, away from prying eyes. Once they were in the darkness of the alley, the stranger found a place for Dean to sit and removed a small glass jar from his jacket pocket. He held it to Dean's lips and began to recite an ancient spell in a long-forgotten language. As the last words faded away, a silvery substance began to drip from Dean's mouth into the jar. When it stopped, the stranger screwed the lid on the jar and placed it in his pocket. The warlock pulled Dean's t-shirt down and pressed an amulet to it, mumbled a few words causing a sigil to form on his chest, marking him. No human would be able to detect it. He watched as Dean slowly slumped to the side and slid to the ground unconscious. The stranger strolled away down the alley and disappeared around the corner. A cell ran in Dean's pocket and went to voicemail when it wasn't answered. It would be like that for the next several calls Sam made trying to find his brother.

A/N: Dean is now a victim and Sam will have to find who did this. Can he help his brother? Familiar characters will be called to help. Thank you for coming on this journey. I do like reviews/comments. NC