"Where's Zane," Elizabeth demands. She attempts to rise from her mattress, but Luther gently pushes her back down. It doesn't take much strength to keep her down either, she's still so sore from the crash and dizzy from the concussion that it's a miracle she was able to sit up at all. "Where is he? If you bastards drained him, I'll—"

"Your friend is resting like you should be." Luther's voice is soft, a parent trying to placate their screaming child. Elizabeth wants to turn his face into jelly. "Do you want to see him?"

"I want to shove my foot so far up your ass that you'll be tasting shoe polish for a month!" She tries to get up again, but this time it's her own body that has her lying down. Moving is bad, she decides. Sitting up makes the whole barn start to spin in dizzying circles. She should do all her ass kicking from the mattress. Form an orderly line and she'll get to you one at a time, please and thank you.

"Hang on, kid." Luther picks her up without so much as a grunt, carrying her past an array of hammocks and a caged-off area to the very back of the barn. Lying on a bare mattress with his head and one arm bandaged, Zane looks half-dead already. He doesn't stir and his breaths are faint, but he's murmuring in his sleep and that means he should be just fine. You can't sleep-talk if you're dying, right?

"He's going to be okay?" She hates how vulnerable she sounds, but she can't take the words back. Worry and guilt rise in her throat like vomit, sour on her tongue. "He's going to make it, right?"

"He'll be just fine. All his injuries were superficial." Luther takes her back to her own mattress, laying her down as carefully as if she were made of glass. "I'm more worried about you."

"No internal bleeding," she murmurs, lifting her black tee to check. There aren't even any bruises aside from the redness near her ribs. "I've had worse than this and kept on kicking. Help me up and I'll show you." Luther snorts, his amusement echoed by Kate and a couple of other men in the hammocks. "You're all going to die for this. You know that, right?"

"I think we can handle your pet hunters, Elizabeth."

"It was stupid to target me and Zane anyway. You just ensured that my boys will find you and, trust me, they hold a grudge. So do I, actually." She's starting to ramble again, having to bite her cheek to cut off the flow of words. Man, Kady hadn't been kidding about that word vomit. "Why did you target us?"

"I wasn't trying to get Zane," Kate says, a petulant twist to her mouth. "I was aiming for you."

"You didn't answer my question."

"As if you don't know why." Luther sends her a warning look and Kate raises her hands in surrender. "Fine, you deal with the little princess. I'm going to bed." She saunters off into a smaller room connected to the main space, flopping down onto a large mattress with a groan. Elizabeth thinks of the barn she and Sam had been kept in, of the completely human monsters that hunted people for sport.

"What the fuck is she talking about? And where's your shirt?" Luther is muscled, slightly bigger than Dean and traced in pale lines of sunlight. Elizabeth glances away with a wrinkled nose, waiting for him to cover himself up again. When she looks back, he's got a gray tee on that hugs his biceps.

"Tell me about your family," he grunts, dropping down into an armchair. It's battered and the board is showing through the fabric of one arm, but Luther lounges in it like it's a throne. One leg is thrown over the arm while the other boot is planted firmly on a floor strewn with hay.

"No."

"Just the basics."

"My mom's name was Alice, my dad's name was Christopher, and my sister's name was Dana. They're all dead now."

"How'd your mother die?"

"A mugging on the way home from the store." Luther hums, nodding his head. He's smiling now, a little quirk of his lips that looks so familiar and so strange at the same time. She feels like she's going crazy.

"It wasn't a mugging."

"How the hell would you know, Creep?"

"Because I killed her." Ribs be damned, Elizabeth lunges up off the mattress and would have knocked Luther's teeth down his throat if he hadn't moved in the same instant. He grabs the front of her shirt and drops her back on the mattress, keeping her there with an arm over her chest. Elizabeth roars, struggling to break free of the hold and only making herself hurt worse. "I had orders, Elizabeth! I would have turned her, but Azazel told me not to."

"I don't care! Let me go, you bastard! Let me go! I'm gonna claw your goddamn eyes out!"

"Haven't you wondered why you're a Chosen when you don't match most of them? Why you don't have Djinn markings or grow a monobrow on the full moons? Your mother agreed to be a surrogate because it meant the demon deal she'd made with Azazel ten years before wouldn't come due."

"You're lying!"

"You know I'm not." His dark eyes hold a touch of malice and concern, but there's no lie to be found in them. She goes limp, but he doesn't ease up or remove his arm. He can see how much she hates him and he won't take any chances of her getting free to rip his throat out. "Alice Mayson made a deal with a Prince of Hell to make sure she got into college."

"No…." Elizabeth's voice is faint and clogged with tears, but she can read the honesty in his face. Luther has a face made for lies and the truth seems stilted and odd rolling off his tongue. "No, she wouldn't do that."

"She met with Azazel again when she started to hear the hell hounds. He told her that he would destroy her contract if she gave him a child, a Chosen. When she agreed, he called me and you were in your mother's belly a week after that."

"My father's name was Christopher."

"Yes, Christopher was your father, but I'm the one that sired you. I would have raised you, but Azazel forbade it after he had me kill Alice. He told me you weren't ready yet, that you needed to toughen up before you were introduced to monsters. You have a purpose, Elizabeth, all of Azazel's children do."

"Why don't you tell this Azazel guy to shove that purpose where the sun doesn't shine? As a matter of fact, get him here and I'll send him back to hell myself." She tries to sit up again, but Luther's arm is a steel band. "Fuck, let me up!"

"You don't get it!" She flinches at the shout and he seems to regret it, but there's no taking that back. "Do you know how many of you that Azazel's made? Maybe a hundred and most of those are dead. The Chosen bloodline can be traced all the way back to Cain and Abel, that and a Prince of Hell's blood is enough to put you slightly above the other Chosen that populate the earth." He lets out a sharp sigh through his nose, shaking his head. "I should have just taken you when I had the chance."

"Why would you want to? You probably don't know the first thing about raising children."

"I had a family before I was turned, I had a little girl and a wife. I turned them once I got control over my bloodlust and do you know what happened? Daniel Elkins wiped them out while I was gone." Grief carves grooves into Luther's face, the arm over her chest loosening just the slightest bit. She doesn't try to get free, though, not when all of her instincts are telling her that Luther won't hurt her. "I'm glad he's dead."

"I know the feeling." His dark eyes cut to her again, tears caught in the thick curl of his lashes. "A wendigo killed my dad when I was a kid and it felt so good to know that John had killed it in the end. It's going to feel just as good to know the man who killed my mother will be burning in hell soon enough."

"Monsters don't go to hell, they go to Purgatory. It's a whole other thing."

"What about Chosen? Where do we go?"

"Heaven or Hell, I presume. A few might go to Purgatory, but you all still have human souls." He removes his arm to brush some of her hair off her face, cupping her chin all in one fluid motion. "I checked up on you from time to time, you know. Brought my car to the salvage yard in Sioux Falls when you were ten and you told me all about how you were gonna marry Christina Applegate."

"I stand by that decision."

"I'm sure you do, stubborn thing."

"I remember that day. You listened to me ramble for an hour and you never rolled your eyes or looked annoyed. Uncle Bobby gave you a discount because of that." She laughs softly, looking up at the ceiling. There's a loft up there, a few birds cooing and hopping around in the thin streams of sunlight. "We never even realized you were a monster."

"Most vampires can blend in. By that time, I had pretty good self-control. Still, it took everything I had not to grab you and run. If I had, Azazel would have hunted me down and sent me to Purgatory himself."

"Why does he care?"

"Each of his Chosen has a psychic match, Liza. For every human child he infected, there was a Chosen he'd helped create in the same vicinity." Elizabeth stiffens and sits up, slowly this time so the whole barn doesn't do a three-sixty on her. "What?"

"Does Azazel have yellow eyes?"

"Yeah, most of the Princes do."

"And does he like to burn people to death on their ceilings?" Luther stiffens now, glancing down at his boots and then back to her. "He's the one that killed Mary, isn't he? He's the one that ruined Sam and Dean's lives." The laugh she lets out now is filled with cold promise. "I'm going to make him beg me to kill him."

"Is Dean the psychic?"

"Sam."

"But you're dating Dean."

"Yeah, I've never been what you'd call an easy-to-manage child. If there's an option that isn't obvious, I go for it." She gives a sarcastic smile now, almost a sneer. "Good old Yellow Eyes has another thing coming if he thinks Sam and I could ever see each other as dating material." Her eyes flick down and lock on the gun belt hanging low on Luther's hips, the butt of a pistol sticking out of the holster with a little pentagram etched into the wood.

"You like it?" He takes the gun out to show it to her, keeping it carefully out of her reach. It's got silver plating and detailed scrollwork, exactly like Uncle Bobby had described it when she was little. She never thought she'd see the colt, never thought it was actually real.

"Can I hold it?" She widens her eyes and pokes out her lower lip, looking adorable and sweet and totally not like she wants to kill this man in cold blood. Luther sees right through the expression (he's probably got a similar one in his repertoire because she didn't get the expression from Alice).

"No, you'll shoot me."

"That's a good call on your part, man." She winces as she lies down again, her ribs protesting every move she makes. Her shoulder isn't on fire anymore, though. Luther must have popped the sucker back in place while she was unconscious, for which she will be forever grateful. Broken bones and bad ribs are one thing, dislocations are enough to make her puke.

"Alright, this is ridiculous." He re-holsters the pistol and takes out a pocket knife, running it over his palm and letting dark blood pool there. "Here, take a drink." He holds out his hand with his brows raised expectantly.

"That's a negative, ghost rider. Not happening. I don't want to turn into a vampire and start dressing like more of a slut than I really am. Besides, leather isn't a turn-on for me."

"You realize that you already have vampire blood, right? You're my daughter."

"That's not my fault."

"Jesus Christ in a sidecar, just drink my blood. The worst thing that'll happen is that you'll get the occasional craving. One of my other kids just infuses his liquor with human blood whenever it hits him. It's not like you're going to be a full-on vampire anyway."

"How many kids do you have— Hey, no! Mmmph!" His hand slaps over her mouth faster than she can react, the sickly-sweet taste of his blood bursting across her tongue. She swallows reflexively to keep from drowning and Luther releases her after a moment. "Not cool, Luther." She smacks her lips, nose wrinkled in disgust.

"It doesn't taste great, I know, but it'll fix you up good as new." He wipes his hand off on the leg of his jeans, leaving a smear of red behind. "Rest up, kid." He grabs a length of rope and ties one end of it around her wrists and the other end to one of the slats of her headboard.

"You really don't have any trust, do you?"

"Not when it comes to you. Maybe you'll change my mind." The sound of an idling motor has them both glancing over at the barn door, Luther striding out into the watery sunlight to investigate. "Get inside and get to bed, Bo." Another vampire comes inside, flopping into a moss green hammock and closing his eyes.

"Do you really expect me to sleep during the day? I'm not a bat."

"My blood's gonna make you woozy." He's right, her head feels cloudy like it had back when she was hooked on pain pills. The familiarity of it makes it easier to fight, but she can still feel herself relaxing on the mattress. Luther pauses beside her long enough to pat her cheek before continuing toward his own bed.

As the blood works its way through her system, she can feel her ribs healing in fast forward, her concussion giving way to a bone-deep weariness. She wants to sleep and hopefully dream of something pleasant, wants to give in and let the blood do its job, but she's too stubborn for that. That's why, twenty minutes later, she finds herself singing in a faint whisper.

"If you're happy and you know it clap your hands…." She claps her hands as well as she's able, barely more than a pat. Ropes make clapping difficult and her head is too full of cotton to untie them. "If you're happy and you know it clap you— Oh, hey, Dean."

"Hey, good lookin'," Dean whispers, coming to her side, He checks her over and seems to like what he finds, no bumps or bruises to show she was ever in a car accident. "How do you feel?"

"Like I was drugged." There's a definite slur to her words now, but she's too high to give a damn. Dean grins down at her, bringing out his pocket knife to cut through the ropes. She sits up just fine this time around, no aches or dizziness to hold her back. "Zane's in the back."

"You hear that, Sammy?"

"On it," Sam confirms.

"Can you climb, Liza?" She gives him a dopey smile, her laugh too loud in the quiet barn. The vampires don't react to the sound, either used to hearing their victims' drunken giggling or just too far down in their respective dreamlands to care. "Yeah, that's gonna be a no. Hang on." Dean puts his back to her, his thighs pressed against the mattress. "Climb on."

"Gladly," Elizabeth whispers, giggling again. She wraps her arms and legs around him, letting him carry her across the room. There's a ladder there that leads up into the loft, a rickety thing that doesn't look like it would support a squirrel, let alone two fully grown humans. "I changed my mind."

"Just hold tight." Dean's climbing before she can jump off, bringing her up into the loft and depositing her on a pile of hay. It's old and smells sweet, though there are soft sounds of mice somewhere nearby. If she gets bitten by a mouse on top of what's already happened today, she's going to go postal and no one can blame her. "Stay here, I'll be right back."

"Yes, sir." She sketches a salute or tries to at least. What she ends up doing is smacking herself with the back of her hand. "Ow, fuck." Dean shushes her before rejoining the others on the ground floor. She's just about to start singing to herself again when a rising howl starts up, followed by shattering glass and John's shout for them all to run. Elizabeth, still only half aware of what's going on, scrambles on her hands and knees to the closest window and hauls herself out of it. Sunlight digs into her, a bad sunburn exposed to boiling water, but she manages to find enough foot- and hand-holds to get to the ground.

"Shit, shit, shit," she pants, stumbling around the side of the barn. Sam and Dean burst out of the barn from the front door and Dean scoops her up over his shoulder without stopping, vampires hissing their displeasure in the barn. "Shit, fuck, shit!" They don't stop running until they're well into the woods, tense and alert as John scrambles after them.

"It's alright," he says, holding up his hands. "It's just me."

"Hi, Just Me, I'm Elizabeth." She giggles again, still thrown over Dean's shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Dean grunts as he stands her up, the brambles and sticks digging into her bare feet. She'd lost one shoe in the accident and Luther must have tossed the other while she was still out.

"Did you drink vampire blood, Elizabeth?"

"Not by choice. It's supposed to make me all shiny and new again."

"It could turn you if you don't already have vampire blood from your sire." She giggles again, leaning against Dean and looking up at John. "Elizabeth, I need you to focus for me. We all know your mom was human and that Yellow Eyes is probably the one who gave you the demon blood, but who is your sire?"

"Funny story, actually. Well, no, more heartbreaking than anything. That's a good word, heartbreaking. I should use it more often—" Elizabeth's head snaps to the side and it's not until her cheek begins to sting that she realizes John had hit her. It does a good job of sobering her up. "Luther's my sire."

"Wait a second, you mean that douchebag that was in New York," Dean asks, turning her slightly to face him. She notices that he puts himself between her and John, an unconscious gesture of protection. "He's the one that knocked-up your mom?"

"Yeah, I got the whole scoop from the big man himself." She lets out a weak laugh and none of her boys comment on the tears in her eyes. "So, who wants to help me commit patricide and steal a pistol?"

"He really has the colt?"

"He really does." Elizabeth glances around, realizing for the first time that the woods are quiet apart from the hunters. "Why isn't he coming after us? Did he decide we weren't worth the trouble?"

"Nah, they'll just wait until dark," John says. "Once a vampire has your scent, it's for life." Elizabeth shudders, remembering the sticky note and the way Kate had found them on the road, materializing out of the shadows with a flash of silver eyes. I've got your scent, kid.

"So what should we do now," Dean asks. He looks out of his depth and Elizabeth feels much the same way. Vampires aren't supposed to be real, they're supposed to be the one thing that stayed in trashy romance novels. Jesus, where's Hugh Jackman when you need him?

"Now you and Elizabeth find a funeral home. We need the blood of a dead man, it's like vampire kryptonite. What Luther's blood did to Elizabeth is what dead man's blood does to a vampire. Think you two can handle it."

"Sneaking into a funeral home can't be any harder than sneaking into Bobby's house. In fact, it might even be easier."

It's not easier, but it's not harder either. Elizabeth and Dean make themselves look presentable in a gas station bathroom before going across the street to the funeral home. There's a viewing today and it's not hard to sneak in with the influx of mourners, the hard part is getting away from the mourners.

"Give 'em ten minutes and most of them will be drunk," Elizabeth advises. There's a small table covered in various bottles and throw-away cups, mostly liquor with some water and juice for any kids. Dean and Elizabeth get their own cups (apple juice since they have to be sober for this) and wait for the inevitable.

"I think it's time," Dean says. Most of the mourners are suitably plastered and they're forming a line to say their goodbyes to the deceased. The hunters join the line and slowly move closer and closer to the open casket. When they finally reach it, they find an old woman dressed in a luxurious fur coat and open-toed pumps.

"I know this is horrible timing, but I want to be burned in a fur coat."

"Really awful timing, Liza." He bends over the casket and pretends to cry as he sticks the needle into old Mrs. Merryweather's neck. The blood is thick and almost refuses to come out, so Dean cries a little louder and hunches his shoulders a little more to really work on the syringe's plunger.

"It's okay, dear," Elizabeth says, loud enough for the others to hear. "She's gone to a better place." Dean works the needle out and caps it again before sneaking it into his coat pocket.

"I can't do this," Dean cries, leaning against Elizabeth now. "I can't do this, baby. I'm not strong enough!"

"Perhaps you should take your friend out for some fresh air," the pastor suggests, sympathy clouding his eyes. "It'll do him some good." Elizabeth gives him a kind smile and leads Dean away, his crocodile tears drying up the second they're in the Impala again.

"Man, that sucked."

"Just count your blessings that they didn't embalm her," Elizabeth says, slouching in the passenger's seat. "If they'd done that, we would have been screwed." Dean starts the engine and pulls out of the crowded lot, driving back toward the motel. "Why didn't they embalm her?"

"Maybe it's a religious thing."

"Maybe." The drive back doesn't take long and soon enough they're coming into the room. Zane is still half out of his mind, sprawled out on Elizabeth's bed. Someone's changed his bandages, the old ones lying in a heap in the trash can. He smiles when he spots them, one of his teeth chipped and his lips swollen. "You look like shit, Zaney."

"I feel like it, too," he murmurs. "Purely superficial, though. I got a concussion." He sounds chipper, which means he's floating way above them on an Oxy high. Jesus, Elizabeth misses drugs. "Did y'all get the blood?"

"We got a syringe of it, yeah." Dean brings it out of his pocket and sets it on the desk in front of John. John doesn't look too impressed, but he doesn't comment on how little blood they were able to get. "They didn't have a body just lying around for us to tap into, so we had to pretend to be mourners."

"Our life is so fucked up," Sam mutters. "Stealing blood from dead guys is right in the top five most fucked up things we've ever had to do."

"You get used to it," John says. "Put the blood in the minifridge so it doesn't spoil, Dean. Once it gets dark, you and Elizabeth will take the Impala out to the spot Zane crashed his baby. You two get to be bait."

"Shouldn't Elizabeth stay behind with Zane?"

"She's Luther's daughter, Sammy. Parental instinct won't allow him to just walk off without her now that he's found her again. He or his mate will snatch her back the second they get the chance."

"Well, the human bait is going to take a shower and change her clothes," Elizabeth says, pointing at the closed bathroom door. "Would the other human bait like to join her? She's feeling generous." Dean perks up at that, the other two Winchesters letting out disgusted groans.

"I really don't need to hear about my son's sex life."

"You get used to it," Sam says, parroting John's words.

"Really?"

"No, it just gets worse every time." Dean snickers as he and Elizabeth disappear into the bathroom, his green eyes watching intently as she bends to get the water running. When she straightens and turns around, he's already got his shirt and jeans off, working on his briefs.

"Boy, you're not wasting any time," she laughs. He kicks his briefs off to join the pile of his clothes, grinning over at her.

"I never waste time when it comes to you, Liza," he says. She pulls her ruined shirt off as well, pulling her skirt, tights, and underwear down in one smooth motion. When she's just as naked as Dean, they climb under the spray of warm water. Dean wraps his arms around her waist, supporting her rather than restraining her, his hands moving over her as rivulets of water run over them both.

"I love you."

"I love you, too." His lips are on hers and there's no burning passion, nothing but a sweet tenderness like he's afraid she'll break apart in his arms if he isn't gentle. Elizabeth doesn't dismiss the notion, she is fragile right now and she does need gentleness.

Her hands go to his face, thumbs caressing stubbled cheeks while her fingers play with the hair at his temples. Green eyes shut with a flutter of lashes as the kiss deepens, his tongue painting each one of her teeth and pulling a moan out of her chest. She moves as close as she can until she's not sure where she ends and he begins, but she likes it that way, entwined and safe.

"I love you," Dean whispers, trailing kisses along her throat. Lower and lower until he's kneeling in front of her, whispering I love you into her pinkening skin until she's a shuddering mess above him. Her moans are quiet, muffled by the shower and her own fingers pressed tight against her lips. "I love you," he promises, rising again until his lips are at her forehead.

"I love you," she swears, clutching at his shoulders. They're broad and slick under her palms, sprinkled with freckles that she has kissed a thousand times. She does it again now, her lips soft as they follow a similar trail that his lips had blazed on her own body. Dean comes apart under her hands and her mouth, one hand gripping the shower rod with white knuckles while the fingers of his other hand move gently through her hair. "I love you," she says against his lips. "I love you."

They stay in the shower until the water starts to run cold, then they wash each other and step out into the humid bathroom. Dean runs a towel over his wet hair once he's dressed again, watching as she ties the tie of her pink shirt into a loose bow.

"You could always stay here if you want," he murmurs when she glances over at him. "You don't have to be human bait."

"John's right. If I'm with you, it's guaranteed that the vampires will be drawn out. We need leverage if we're going to get the colt." They move into the main room again, steam rolling out after them with curling fingers that seem to beckon. "I'm gonna get some shut-eye, so wake me up when it's time for me to play a distressing damsel."

"Have you ever been good at playing that role," Zane asks with a snort.

"Not a once, but there's a first time for everything." She flops down on the bed beside him, curling around him and careful not to bump his sprained wrist. He wraps his good arm around her shoulders and they're both asleep within seconds. Car crashes and kidnappings tend to drain the energy of a person.

Her dream is a disconnected thing; silver eyes peering through a bedroom window, yellow eyes in a nursery, Dean hanging from hooks in some vast, dark chasm. She yells for help, tries to get him down, but then she's swept away to somewhere darker where two men in a cage are throwing Sam against the iron bars until he's broken and bloody. No, she screams, beating her fists against the bars. No, get off him! Get off him or I'll kill you all.

"Liza," Sam begs, only his voice is wrong. "Liza, it's time to wake up." She jerks away from the hand on her shoulder, squinting past the darkness to find John hovering over her. She's not in that strange room that stinks of sulfur or the room with the hooks, she's in Manning.

"Where— What?"

"It's time for you and Dean to bait," John says. There's a crease between his brows, his mouth pulled down into a deep frown. "You were talkin' in your sleep, calling for someone to help my boys."

"It was just a nightmare." She slides off the bed, tucking her feet into her trusty-dusty Converse and tying the laces. "I've had worse ones." Her dreams have a persistent feeling of loss to them, slowly warped from nice things to nightmares each time she faces a new threat. "Let's go, old man. We're wasting moonlight."

Dean and Elizabeth drive the Impala to the place where she and Zane had crashed the night before. The Ferrari has been cleared away, but the tree it had crashed into is leaning drunkenly to the right, the grass in front of it dead and torn up. Dean cuts the engine and they get out, propping the hood open as he leans over the engine.

"You sure you can do this," he asks.

"Easy-peasy." He doesn't grin and neither does she because they're both thinking much the same thing. Vampires are fast and strong, they could easily overpower the hunters. Elizabeth leans over the car beside Dean, their pinkies brushing and curling around each other.

"Car trouble," Kate asks. The hunters straighten and turn in unison to find Kate a few feet away and coming closer. She's got a confident swagger and Elizabeth wants to break her. "I can give you two a lift. Think of it as a thank you for doing a face mask with me last week." She draws a little closer, biting her lip. "I can think of a few other ways to say thank you, Dean."

"That's sweet, but I draw the line at necrophilia," Dean drawls. Kate backhands him hard enough to send him sprawling, another vampire stepping out of the shadows. This one is large and bald, cruelty glinting in his eyes. Kate picks Dean up off the ground by his throat, her manicured nails digging in.

"You and I could have some real fun." Elizabeth rolls her eyes, taking the syringe of blood out of her coat pocket. The other vampire doesn't even seem to notice her, grinning at the way Kate manhandles Dean. Elizabeth shuffles closer and strikes before Kate can stop her, jabbing the needle into Kate's neck and depressing the plunger.

"Hey," the other vampire shouts. He goes to charge, but Sam swoops in with a machete and cuts the vamp's head clean off. The vampire's body topples to the asphalt, his head bouncing once and then going still. Kate stares at them in shock, dropping Dean and stumbling back against Elizabeth.

"What the fuck did you do," she hisses, baring her fangs.

"Think of it as payback, sweetheart," Elizabeth says, dropping her. Kate grunts as she hits the ground, her hand coming away slick with blood when she presses it to her head. "You destroyed my friend's car and I dosed you with dead man's blood."

"Boys, take the bitch up to my truck," John orders. "Elizabeth…." She glances over at him, ready for a scolding and finding him smiling a little instead. A smiling John Winchester is like seeing the Pope snort a line of coke, it fucks her up. "You did good."

"You're never nice to me. Am I dying? Is that it?"

"Stop being an idiot and go help Dean."

"Okay, that's better." He's still smiling, a little quirk at the corners of his mouth, and she realizes that Sam's the one that took after him. Look and demeanor, all of it is present in Sam, but her friend doesn't have the same tolerance for cruelty that John does. There's a softness in Sam's heart that he got from Dean. Elizabeth wonders, briefly, which parent she takes after.

"Hey." She pauses halfway through a turn, looking at John over her shoulder. He motions her over and she goes reluctantly. The last time they'd been alone like this, he'd tried to choke her. "I just…." He winces, like the words on his tongue are tipped with barbed wire. "I wanted to apologize."

"For what?" Her voice has gone cold and she can see the regret on his face, hidden in the deep grooves left behind by grief and stress. In the moonlight, on the deserted road, he looks far older than he really is.

"I was drunk, but that's not an excuse." He meets her gaze and she feels a pang of sympathy in her breast. "I should've never laid my hands on you, let alone tried to choke you. You're good for my boys and I'm sorry for what I did." Quiet settles between them, laced with old grudges and poison.

"I can't absolve you, John," she says after a long while. "Pull your head out of your ass and treat your boys right, and I might be able to manage forgiveness." She steps close to him, one of her sharp nails poking the soft underside of his chin. "But you'd better know this, Winchester. You lay one abusive hand on my boys and I will break your goddamn arm. Capiche?"

"Yeah." There's pride in his gaze and she turns her back on it. She doesn't need John Winchester's pride or his apology. When they join the boys in the clearing, they've already got Kate bound to a tree, her chin resting against her chest as she struggles against the dead man's blood.

"What took you guys so long," Sam asks, glancing between the two of them.

"We were talkin'." John goes over to his truck, opening the trunk of weapons and digging through them. He soaks an old shirt in a medley of disgusting smells, then passes it over to Dean. "Saffron, skunk's cabbage, and trillium are the best ways to keep a vamp from sniffing you out. Toss it on the fire and dust your clothes with the ashes."

"What were you guys talking about?"

"About how nosey you are. Liza, why don't you go get the Impala and bring it up here." She nods and hikes back to the road, closing the hood and sliding behind the wheel. The car starts without a hitch and it's not long before she's pulling up even with John's truck, cutting the engine. "Vampires mate for life," John's saying as she gets out. "Kate means more to Luther than the colt."

"She must be great in the sack," Elizabeth quips. John ignores her comment, glancing over at Kate with a deep unease.

"The blood sickness will be wearing off soon."

"We just need half an hour," Sam says.

"When it's done, I want you three out of the area as soon as possible. I'll have the colt and I'll have Kate, so there shouldn't be a problem." Elizabeth purses her lips at the idea of leaving someone behind to finish off Luther. That's not how she was raised, you don't leave anyone behind even if that person is a selfish dick.

"We're gonna meet up afterward, right? Use the gun together." John looks down at his boots and the muscle in Sam's jaw jumps. There's heartbreak in those eyes, a deep disappointment that makes Elizabeth want to raze the world to the ground. "You're not going after the demon without us. You can't keep treating us like this."

"Like what?"

"We're not little kids anymore, Dad."

"You're my kids. It's my job to keep you safe."

"That's a bunch of crap," Dean says, shocking all of them. Dean doesn't talk back to John, he's usually the one to follow orders to the letter. Now, though, the same hardness in Sam's eyes is reflected in Dean's. He's as tired of being kept out of the loop as the rest of them. "The three of us have been hunting crazy shit since before you left on your wild goose chase. You can't be that worried about keeping us safe."

"That's different."

"Bullshit. Why shouldn't we be there with the demon that killed mom and Jess gets what's coming to it? We have just as much a right as you do."

"This demon is a mean son of a bitch, kids. I can't take it down if I'm worried about you three getting your fool selves killed." John lets out a frustrated sigh and glances away from them, the firelight casting shadows over his face. "I don't expect to make it out of this fight alive. Mary's death almost killed me and I'll be damned if I have to watch you boys die, too."

"What happens if you die when we could have done something to prevent it? You're a good hunter and you have good instincts, but your plans are a bunch of bullshit. Sammy's right on this one. We're stronger as a family."

"We're running out of time. You clear that barn and then you get out as fast as you can. That's an order."

"Fuck your orders," Elizabeth spits. "And fuck you, John Winchester. I'm not just waiting behind while you kill Luther."

"You're not coming with me."

"You shouldn't have said that," Sam mutters. Elizabeth squares her jaw and marches over to the truck, climbing into the cab and settling herself down in the passenger's seat. She crosses her arms and juts out her chin, just daring him to drag her out.

"Get out of there!"

"She's not budging, Dad. You're stuck with her." Sam claps him on the shoulder as if wishing him luck, then he and Dean are getting in the Impala and driving away. John, seeming to realize that she really isn't going anywhere, lets out a deep breath and moves to grab Kate.

"This is ridiculous," he grunts as he shoves the vampire into the cab. She settles against Elizabeth with a low groan, her wrists bound tightly and her eyes glazed. "You could be killed."

"Luther ain't gonna kill me," Elizabeth says, shaking her head. "He thinks he's a good father." The truck starts up with a healthy rumble and then they're heading back down the dirt road to the highway. The dead vampire is still lying on the shoulder, its head hidden in the grass. Soon enough they're passing the barn, John's grip on the wheel tightening.

"They should be able to smell Kate now."

"Good." Two sets of headlights appear behind them a moment later, almost hidden in the smoke spewing out of the truck's tailpipe. "You think he's got the whole nest out?"

"No, he left someone behind to guard their supper." She nods, watching the headlights in the side mirror. The truck crests a hill and the headlights don't follow them, dropping away and to the left. "How we doin', Elizabeth?"

"They're gonna come around and cut us off." Sure enough, waiting around the next curve are the two cars, a group of four standing in front of them. Their eyes glow silver in the headlights, Luther's almost reminding Elizabeth of mercury. He's standing toward the front of the group, almost imposing in his leather jacket.

"Get out," Luther demands. John opens his door and steps out, keeping the door between him and the vampires. "Who are you?"

"Winchester."

"Are you my girl's father-in-law?" John smirks and glances over at Elizabeth.

"I will be soon enough." Luther doesn't smirk, he's got his eyes focused on the cab. He can't see inside through the tinted glass, but it feels like he's staring into her soul all the same.

"Where are your boys? I didn't expect them to let Elizabeth out of their sight."

"Cleaning out your nest." Luther does smile now, cold and thin-lipped. John returns the smile, yanking on the rope tied around Kate's wrist like it's a leash. She falls to the side and he has to set her on her feet, her legs still weak from the poison. Elizabeth gets out as well, sliding over the seats so that she's partially behind John.

"Kate, you okay?"

"Dean man's blood," she says, voice weak. She can't talk too loudly, not with John's knife against her throat. The blade glints silver, just like the vampires' eyes. Luther's smile fades and Elizabeth can see genuine hatred in his eyes.

"I want the colt," John says, shuffling forward a couple of feet. "The one you stole from Elkins. You give me that and I won't cut Kate's pretty head off." Luther gives a soft huff of laughter, glancing around as if to make sure the vampires still outnumber the hunters.

"You realize you can't shoot all of us, right? We'll kill you."

"We need it to take down Azazel," Elizabeth says. Luther's gaze snaps to her and it takes all her years of training not to flinch away from it. He's not going to hurt her, she's pretty positive of that, but the intensity in his gaze is almost daunting. "Consider it a down payment."

"Down payment for what?"

"Your daughter's loyalty." He pauses at that, narrowing his eyes. The staring match seems to last forever, but it's really only seconds before Luther dips his head in a nod.

"Fine, but I'll only give it to you." He brings the colt out of its holster, holding it by the barrel for her to take. She and John share an uneasy look, but this is the only way they'll get it without bloodshed. Elizabeth inches forward until she's within range, wrapping her fingers around the grip and pulling it slowly from Luther's grasp. "Let her go, Winchester."

"You can have her back when I've got the colt in my truck," John says. Luther grits his teeth, eyes flashing dangerously.

"That wasn't the deal."

"Seeing as I'm the only one with leverage, I think I can change the deal as much as I want." Kate bares her teeth in a quiet snarl, bringing her elbow back and up hard enough to send John sprawling. Elizabeth tries to dart forward to help, but Luther shoves her behind him.

"And what now, Winchester? What leverage do you have to keep me from killing you the same way you killed Hank?" Luther grabs him by the front of his shirt and tosses him like a ragdoll, John's back colliding with the truck door hard enough to slam it shut and shatter the window. Two arrows whistle through the air, embedding themselves in the chests of two of the vamps. They go down hard, the arrowheads covered in a thin film of dead man's blood.

"Holy shit," Elizabeth gasps. Sam and Dean come charging out of the woods while the others are still trying to process what just happened. Luther clotheslines Sam, wrapping an arm around his throat when Dean picks up the fallen machete.

"Drop the blade or I break his neck," Luther snaps. Dean drops the machete back to the road, the blade clanking against the asphalt and muffling Elizabeth's steps. Luther has his full attention on Dean and doesn't realize the position he's put himself in. "Why can't you people just leave us alone? We have as much right to live as you do."

"Like hell you do!" Luther turns in surprise, finding Elizabeth with the colt raised. There are tears in her eyes, glittering as they fall across her cheeks. "You killed my mom. You don't deserve a goddamn thing." Her hands remain steady as she squeezes the trigger and the bullet hits right between Luther's eyes. His head snaps back at the impact, the bullet hole the size of a pen while the skin around it turns black and dead. Luther drops Sam, not noticing the trail of dark blood that slips down his nose. Blue electricity swirls along the trail and the deadened skin starts to spread to his cheekbones. The outline of his skull lights up and then he's dropping, dead. The other vampires drive off before Elizabeth can use the gun on them, but it's no real loss. Someone else will finish them off.

"Dean," John says, clapping a hand down on Elizabeth's shoulder. "You better marry this girl."

Back at the motel, they're in the middle of packing when John comes back into the room. He's got his hands in his pants pockets and his back straight, looking like he's ready to read them all the riot act. The hunters stand in a line, old instincts hard to kick.

"You kids disobeyed a direct order back there," John states.

"Yeah, well, the order was bullshit," Dean says, shrugging. "Without us there, your ass would have been toast."

"You're right."

"I am?"

"He is," Sam and Elizabeth ask in unison. Zane, still out of it, is lying on the bed behind them and singing nonsense. They all ignore him, used to how weird concussions make him. He just has to make it a few hours and then he'll be Archer's problem.

"I was just as shocked as the rest of you," John says with a wry smile. "It scares the hell out of me to think of you kids in danger. You're all I've got." He frowns and glances over at Zane. "Even that one is starting to grow on me. We're stronger as a family and that means we take on the demon together."

Man hands on misery to man/It deepens like a coastal shelf/Get out as early as you can/And don't have any kids yourself