Chapter 5

Dean hit the floor hard and almost blacked out. He clung to consciousness grimly as his vision darkened and blood pounded in his ears. When he tried to move, his limbs wouldn’t respond properly. He felt his coat being dragged off and the pistol removed from the waistband of his pants. He was searched roughly and efficiently. The knife was taken from his boot; switchblade, brass knuckles and lock picks from his jeans. His arms were pulled behind his back and he felt cold metal on his wrists, heard the familiar snap of handcuffs locking shut. Finally he was rolled over and Toby was grinning down at him.

“That was way too easy.”

Dean scowled. “Your momma’s easy, I was blind-sided.”

Toby kicked him in the ribs but Dean barely felt it.

“You gonna tickle me to death?”

Toby kicked him again and Sam started shouting.

“Shut up, Dean, for Christ’s sake.”

Sam? How could he have forgotten about Sam? He struggled to sit upright and looked round the room, his vision taking a second too long to focus. Sam was near the table; Nathan a few feet behind with a shotgun aimed at his head. The whole scene looked like something out of a shitty B-movie and he opened his mouth to make another crack then thought better of it. No sense taking more hits than necessary. Nathan prodded Sam with the gun.

“Take your coat off, drop it on the floor.”

Sam hesitated, looking round with confused eyes. Toby kicked Dean in the back, just below the kidney. That one hurt and he gritted his teeth against the pain.

Nathan chuckled. “Take as long as you need, but your brother won’t enjoy it.”

Sam’s coat was off in a heartbeat and he tossed it to the ground.

“Every weapon you got, on the table now.”

Sam moved forward like a big, dumb ox and Dean glared at him.

“Don’t you friggin’ do it, Sammy.”

Sam glared right back. “I’m not watching them kill you, Dean.”

He threw his knives and picks on the table and Dean cursed silently. The idiot hadn’t held anything back. Nathan seemed satisfied.

“Atta boy. Now give me your wrists.”

Sam put his hands behind his back and allowed himself to be handcuffed. Dean felt Toby’s boot nudge him in the back.

“On your feet, soldier.”

He got up with as much grace as he could muster. He stared at Toby and Nathan, genuinely baffled by their actions.

“If all you’re good for is hunting your own, it’s time I put you down.”

You?” Toby sniggered. “You’re the easiest hunt we’ve had in years.”

The truth stung and Dean smarted. How in hell had he managed to walk into such an obvious trap? Toby prodded him forward.

“Start walking.”

“Where we going? Someplace hot?”

Toby shoved him harder but Dean didn’t budge.

“I’m in the mood for TJ.”

That earned him a slap round the head. “Shut your mouth, smartass. You’re going to meet the boss.”

Dean didn’t like the sound of that. How many more of these bastards were involved? He was reluctant to leave Sam with Nathan and held his ground until Toby lost patience. He grabbed Dean’s collar, marched him across the room and shoved him out into the barn. The door slammed behind them. It took Dean’s eyes a moment to adjust to the dimmer light and he blinked round in surprise. Five minutes ago the place was empty; now he counted three dudes, one chick and none of them looked friendly. He recognised the youngest guy as a hunter, Tim someone or other and now he was getting a really bad feeling. Force of habit made him play it cool; years of practice made it convincing.

“What’s this? Hunter’s convention?”

“You might say that.”

It was the woman who spoke and Dean focussed on her. She was about his age; dark, athletic and borderline hot. In better circumstances, after a few too many beers he’d be hitting on her hard. There were a hundred cheesy pick-up lines on the tip of his tongue but the look in her eyes stopped him dead. He’d seen it before; couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it meant but it made him twitchy and cautious.

“Guess my invite got lost in the post, huh?”

“You’re here aren’t you?”

She approached him, loose and easy. “Dean Winchester. I heard you were pretty but words don’t do it justice.”

She ran a fingertip lightly across his bruised eye. “How’d you get this, champ?”

“I got a thing for frisky women.”

She leaned in close and kissed him hard. Dean was too shocked to do anything but fight his dick’s reflexive urge to respond, which would be downright embarrassing in front of so many dudes. Eventually she released him, her face slightly flushed.

“That was fun. We’ll do it again.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Do I get a say in it?”

Clearly he didn’t because she stepped away and beckoned Toby closer. Now she was all business.

“What was he packing?”

Toby laughed. “A goddamned arsenal if you ask me. He’s clean as a whistle now.”

She nodded, appraising. “Match fit?”

“I’d say so.”

Dean scowled. “Hey, I’m standing right here.”

Toby continued as though he hadn’t spoken.

“He’s a cocky son of a bitch but he takes the hits like a pro. I clocked him with a friggin’ sawn-off and he didn’t go under.”

“What about the rumours?”

Toby shrugged. “You want me to check?”

She considered for a moment. “I don’t think he’d appreciate that. He’ll need some special handling.”

Dean had heard enough. Two assholes discussing him like he was a trainer pony was more than his dignity could handle. He couldn’t get out of the cuffs but his legs were good to go. He gave Toby the stink eye.

“Let’s do it, grandpa. I’ll kick your sorry ass.” He glared at the girl. “Yours too, hotlips.”

Toby snorted dismissively but she clapped her hands in delight. “Isn’t he fantastic?”

Nobody else seemed to agree. She nodded at two of the other men.

“Hold him steady.”

Dean tried to make good on his threat. He launched himself at the approaching strangers, trying to use his body as a battering ram but they were fast and wily. They simply stepped to either side and grabbed his arms as he lunged forward. He struggled until a fist landed in his guts, then he struggled to breathe. When he’d got his shit back together the chick was standing way too close.

“You put on a good show, Dean.”

“Bite me.”

“I’ll do better than that.”

Her hand cupped his crotch and squeezed. Dean tried to back away and the grip on his arms tightened. He sneered.

“We moving into non-con now?”

She giggled and squeezed again. “He’s still packing, Toby. How the hell did you miss this?”

Toby sniggered and Dean’s face reddened. “You want the goods so bad, how about we discuss hire terms?”

She leaned forward and whispered into his ear. “But you’re already mine, honey. When I want you, I’ll take you.”

Dean snorted. “What’ll it be? Straps or chains?”

“Your choice, stud.”

She released the grip on his jewels, pulled up his tee-shirt and he heard her quick intake of breath.

“So it’s true…” Her fingers traced the vivid scar on his shoulder. “Does it bother you?”

Dean stared at her incredulously. “The only thing bothering me right now is you, lady.”

Toby pulled a familiar looking bottle from his pocket.

“These were in his coat. High end painkillers; surgery-level strong.”

She took the bottle and Dean breathed easier as she got out of his personal space. She examined the label closely.

“What are they for?”

Dean smirked. “PMS is a bitch.”

“Bullshit comes easy to you, doesn’t it, Dean?”

“Perk of the job.”

She pocketed the pills. “You’ll feel different when you’ve gone a few rounds with my boys.”

She glanced round the group of men. “Who’s in?”

Every hand in the room was raised and Dean gawped, wondering what he’d done to piss so many people off. His eyes landed back on the chick.

“You wanna go first, sweetheart?”

“Oh I’ll be taking my turn. Maybe first, maybe last, I won’t spoil the surprise.”

Dean snorted. “Fight and fuck, huh? That’s original.”

She giggled. “You still get all the fun, Dean.”

Dean understood the look in her eyes now. Over the years he’d met a few hunters playing short of a full deck, but this was the first woman he’d encountered. That made her unpredictable at best, Gordon Walker grade psycho at worse. He didn’t know which end of the spectrum he was dealing with and while that was scary enough, the idea of getting screwed by her was downright terrifying. He kept his game face on.

“You got a name? Psycho bitch don’t exactly roll off the tongue.”

She didn’t react to the insult. It was like she’d been waiting for him to ask.

“It’s Suzie, hon. Suzie Wandell.”

Dean struggled to remember where he’d heard that name before and she helped him along.

“You don’t know me, but your brother was on intimate terms with my daddy.”

Realisation hit like a sledgehammer. This was the daughter of Steve Wandell, the hunter Sam killed four weeks ago. She was out for revenge and she was batshit crazy. Friggin’ awesome.

Dean feigned shock. “Sam’s gay? I always knew something was off...”

“Nice try.” Suzie jerked her head towards the rest of the gang. “Get him settled in the van. I need a few moments with little bro.”

That was enough to make Dean see red. He made a lunge at Suzie and was immediately overpowered. He snarled at her instead. “You lay a finger on him and I’ll fucking kill you, I swear to God.”

She patted him gently on the cheek. “Sammy’s safe as houses, slugger. But you hold onto all that anger. You’re gonna need it.”

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