Blood Debt

Chapter 1

Dean saw Sam's discreet yawn as they waited at the steakhouse for their meals.

"Are you sure you want to drive on to Springville tonight?" Sam asked. He'd really rather just hole up in a local motel and get in a good night's sleep. It was only 9 pm and already he was tired. The ghost had all but kicked their asses until they managed to find the preserved finger of the man and gave it a salt and burn. They'd been up most the night prior, trying without success to get the ghost. When they'd figured out the ghost came out at sunset, they tried again today and the battle was on. Sam ached from the fight and figured he'd hurt even worse tomorrow. Looking at his brother, he saw the adrenaline high still shone in Dean's eyes.

"Hell Sammy, I don't think I could fall asleep if I wanted to right now. That was an awesome salt and burn. That little bastard won't be strangling any other unfortunate hikers." Dean smiled like he was the cat that got the canary. Maybe the whole flock.

Sam gave a nod. He was glad for that fact. Twelve people had been killed over the past five years and the last two and been a father and his twelve-year-old son. Sam was hoping for a few days to recuperate but Dean had already found them a potential job a good six hours away, dog attacks that suggested a black dog or hellhound or something like that. It would take some on-site investigating to see what they were dealing with and if it was even supernatural.

The waitress slid their dinners in front of them. Sam dribbled a light spotting of A-1 on his steak, just enough to mix in with the garlic butter for that little extra zing. He looked over at Dean who was already digging enthusiastically into his meal. Sam made a face at him.

Dean stabbed the next piece of steak he'd cut off and saw Sam's look of disgust. "What?"

"Dean that thing could practically moo," Sam said, wrinkling his nose. "What's you do, ask for steak tar-tar?"

Dean grinned. "Told them to run it through a warm room. C'mon, just a quarter inch cooked on either side, and nice and juicy on the inside. Doesn't get much more perfect."

"You mean raw," Sam said, practically gagging at the blood on Dean's plate from the very rare steak.

"It's not raw," Dean protested. "Look. Grill marks," Dean said, pointing out the black lines.

"Probably put on with a Sharpie," Sam snorted.

"Your steak is so well done it's practically burnt," Dean said. "And A-1? That's enough to ruin any steak." Dean took his fork and stabbed one of the onion rings Sam had knocked off the steak.

"At least I don't have to worry about getting sick from mine," Sam countered. "And who said you could have my onion rings?"

Dean laughed. "Big brother prerogative, Bitch."

"Jerk," Sam muttered and quickly snagged the remaining onion ring and started to cut off a piece of it to eat when he saw the pathetic, envious look on his brother's face. With a long-suffering sigh he held it out to his brother.

Dean grinned, accepted the offer, and devoured the onion ring. Sam took a last look and the pool of blood around Dean's steak and shook his head. Give him well-done any day.

***

Sam had long since drifted off into sleep when Dean roused him with a slap on his shoulder.

"Dude, car pulled off up ahead. Looks like a flat tire."

Sam roused sleepily and stared through the rain-speckled glass. A late nineties dark blue car, a Saturn, Sam finally identified, was pulled over on the side of the road. The trunk was open and one woman was getting the tire out while the other was studying the lug nuts on the left rear wheel. A small battery-operated lantern with a bright white light and a small flashing red light on top sat by the tire. Both women were nicely built, in tight jeans and equally tight sweaters. One was a blonde with a pony tail and the other had long, dark hair. Both looked in their early twenties.