Superstitions {Dean Winchester 2}

Chapter 8

Bloodlust

After me and Dean's...weekend off, we headed back to Bobby's where he finished fixing up the car. Now we sat in the Impala, speeding down the road to go kill something.

I, of course, got shotgun, which I did rub in Sam's face.

"Whoo! Listen to her purr. You ever heard a sound so sweet?" Dean asked, a dorky smile of his face.

"Wow, Dean, I feel so loved right now." I remarked.

"If you two wanna get a room, just let me know." Sam added.

"Yeah, me and Sam will just give you and your car some alone time." I continued.

"Oh, don't listen to them, baby." Dean tells his car. "They don't understand us."

Sam scoffed, leaning against the front seat. "You're in a good mood."

"Not everyone's bitter because they don't get to ride shotgun, Samuel." I point out.

"Why shouldn't I be?" Dean asked.

"No reason." Sam shrugged.

"I got my car. I got a case. I got my pretty little hitchhiker." Dean leaned over, pressing his lips to mine.

I slap his arm. "Eyes on the road, Casanova."

"Things are looking up." Dean continued, resting one hand on my thigh, his fingers brushing over my skin.

"Wow. Give you a couple of severed heads and a pile of dead cows and you're Mr. Sunshine." Sam comments.

"How far to Red Lodge?" Dean asked.

"About another 300 miles." Sam answered.

"Good."

___

"The murder investigation is ongoing. That's all I can share with the press." The sheriff tells us as we sit in his office.

"Sure, we understand that. But just for the record?" Sam asked. "You found the last, uh, head last week, correct?"

"Uh-huh."

"Okay, and the other, a Christina Flanagan."

"It was two days ago. And--" The sheriff was cut off by another voice.

"Excuse me, sir." The blonde woman in the doorway tapped her watch.

"Oh, thank you." The sheriff nodded his head. "Sorry, time's up. We're done here."

"One last question." Sam says.

"About the cattle." Dean added.

"Excuse me?" The sheriff asked.

"The cows found dead spilt open, drained, over a dozen cases?" Dean asked, giving him a questioning look.

"What about them?"

"So you don't think there's a connection?" Sam asked.

"Connection with...?" The sheriff asked.

"Well, the decapitations." I shrugged.

"First cattle mutilations. Now, two murders. Kind of sounds like ritual stuff." Sam added.

"You know, like satanic cult ritual stuff." Dean continued.

The sheriff laughed at us then. "You..." He stopped laughing. "You're not kidding."

"No." Dean shook his head.

"Those cows aren't being mutilated. You wanna know how I know?"

"How?" I asked.

"Because there's no such thing as cattle mutilations." The sheriff stated. "Cow drops, leave it in the sun within 48 hours the bloat will split open so clean it's just about surgical. The bodily fluids fall down into the ground, get soaked up because that's what gravity does. But, hey, it could be Satan. What newspaper did you say you work for?"