Wayward Hearts Book 3- Summer

Part 2

"We had the little bird right there!" Crowley yelled at Dean, "And you just let her go!"

"She isn't a part of this," Dean didn't look up from the blade he was cleaning blood off of.

"She could be," Crowley said suggestively, "she should be. Do you know how much more power you would have with her?"

"Don't care."

"Dean, this was always the plan. Lure in the Phoenix and have her tag along on our escapades."

"I said she isn't going to be a part of this!" Dean stood up, his hand gripping tight to the blade.

Crowley put his hands up, "Okay, okay. We really need to talk about your...anger management issues."

"Fine," Dean put the blade in a sheath on his back and straightened his jacket so it wasn't noticeable, "but you're buying me a drink."

Crowley followed Dean out of the hotel room and down to the bar that accompanied the property. They both took seats at the bar. Inside was dingy and grimy. Ugly neon light advertisements for each beer the bar carried hung on the wall like crappy Christmas decorations.

"Two shots here," Dean eyes Crowley for a moment before ordering for him, "he'll have something fancy with your tiniest umbrella."

Crowley rolled his eyes as the bartender left, "So how are you feeling? On edge? Pent-up? Unfulfilled?"

Dean scoffed, "You sound like a damn Viagra commercial."

"This isn't about...Little Dean," Crowley said sarcastically, "it's about the Mark. It changed you."

Dean let his eyes flash to the pure black of a demon, "I noticed."

"And I know that you want to keep the party going. You want to have fun, fun, fun till daddy takes the black eyes away. The fact is, you need to kill now," Crowley got serious for a moment, "not want to, not choose to. Need to."

The bartender approached them with their drinks and served them up accordingly, "There ya go."

Dean nodded an approval before downing his first shot as Crowley swirled his drink with his straw.

"Danke," he said to the bartender before turning his attention back to Dean, "face it, darling. You're an addict. Death is your drug. And you're gonna spend the rest of your life chasing that dragon."

Crowley finally took a sip from his drink while looking over at Dean.

"So?" Dean challenged.

"So, I'm here to facilitate."

"You want me to kill for you?"

"I want you to kill for us. Look, you're going to snap eventually. The anger, the bloodlust is gonna build up in you until you can't take it anymore, and then," Crowley drew his finger across his neck, "so, the question is, do you want to spike a civilian or someone who has it coming?"

"Like who?" Dean was finally intrigued by Crowley's suggestion.

"Like, Mindy Morris. Caring mother, loving wife, cheating trollop. After her husband, Lester, discovered Mindy's liaison amoureuse, heated words were exchanged. In the end, Mindy wanted a divorce; and 50% of everything. But Lester..."

"Lester would rather give up his soul than half of his junk."

"We live in a very materialistic world. Mindy's gonna die one way or the other. Why not take the job, feed the beast?"

__________

Damon took another sip of his bourbon just as Emma came back to the booth.

"Rowena found Sam, he was only a couple of hours away from us so..." Emma's thought process was interrupted when her phone began to ring again, she held it up so Damon could see the caller ID before she answered, "Sam?"

"Hey Em, I need your help," Sam said as if it was no big deal that he had just been kidnapped.

"No shit Sherlock," Emma was ready to tear Sam a new one, "you got yourself kidnapped and conveniently forgot to mention that Dean wasn't dead but in fact was turned into a Demon."

"I was gonna tell you," Sam defended himself.

Emma shook her head, "I don't think you were. Where are you?"

"Heading to North Dakota, can you meet me there? A town called Beulah," Sam asked.

"On our way," Emma hung up the phone and looked up at Damon, "let's get out of here."