Unknown.

Ch. 30 Blood.

It's been a couple days but I knew Dean was close, and it made me eager. Today however, he was only minutes away, and Trent knew it too. Over the past weeks, I've been observing, listening. He's ordered his pack to keeps tabs on the premises but not to attack, not till he said so. It's not even his pack, it's Dean's. Today I smiled as I sat tied to my chair, ignoring the throbbing pain from my most recent beating.

Trent slammed open the door so intensely this time the picture framed shattered, and the door handle slammed into the wall and went through it. He smiled pleasantly down at me, "Time to get up." He regularly had the one chick give me showers, or walk me around, but never himself.

Harshly he ripped off the binds that rubbed my wrists and ankles raw. Hauling me from my chair, he still had that maddening grin on his face, but I knew better than to ask questions. "You know Dean is only a few minutes away right?" Trent asked as if making pleasant conversation. "Now I do." I lied, he smiled at me, "I figured out why he loves you Sandra," He started, I raised a brow as he continued to haul me down a flight of stairs, "you're human. Maybe I can't kill you without his hatred, but if I replace some of that, maybe he'll hate you and come back to me." He explained, as we stepped into a completely cement room that looked like a garage. Trent sat me down, without tying me up, and there was a chalice on the table in front of us, he sat across from me. It was a silver goblet of sorts, it was nearly filled to the brim with a dark crimson liquid.

Levi told me going from human to werewolf required blood rituals... every instinct in me wanted to run, but even with a burst of werewolf strength I had no chance against Trent, he was too well trained.

"Give me your hand Sandra," he urged, I didn't. Trent snickered, "I'll make you if you don't." I was stalling because Dean was getting closer and closer. Then he brandished a gun, and aimed it at me. "Do it." He snapped, and I knew he might not shoot me in the head to kill me, he might shoot me in the arm, and I did not want to get shot. Slowly, with a shaking hand, I obeyed him. I think that's what annoyed Trent the most about me, I never gave into my fear even though he knew I had a lot of it.

Pulling out what looked to be a ceremonial dagger, he faced my palm upward and sliced it open. Then he closed my hand into a fist and my blood dripped into the goblet, mingling with the other blood. Dean was closer, and my heart was racing in anticipation and fear. I did not want to be a werewolf. Yeah I know about all the super strength shit, but I didn't care about that, I didn't want to sacrifice some humanity in order to get a little more muscle. Trent grinned, and slid the goblet towards me, my palm still bleeding. "Drink it." He ordered, and I heard the door being kicked down and shouting, and screaming. Trent's face became ecstatic, "Drink it before I make you choke on it." Dean was near me, he was near the door. That's when Trent shot me. Well not exactly.

The bullet grazed my arm, and I knew next time he wouldn't miss. So I grabbed the goblet, and slowly put it to my mouth, Trent savoring every moment of it, Dean wasn't fast enough. Trent would definitely kill me if I didn't do this, I could see it in his bipolar, insanely violent eyes. Just as Dean kicked down the door, I took a swig of the blood.
"No!" Dean shouted, but it was too late, and the effects were immeadiate. It felt like I had a horrible fever, sweat beading on my skin. Everything was tinted in yellow, and blurry. Trent laughed, and before Dean could lunge at him, he lunged at me. I was helpless too do anything, the blood tasted like bile in my throat, but it was too late now.

Trent yanked me out of my seat, grabbing my bullet wound, making me shout in pain, Dean bristled, and Trent pressed me against him. I could barely stand upright, my head lolled, and he placed the gun to it. "Do anything and she dies." He taunted, Dean froze, and I was having a hard time processing this. The fiery pain was prickling and spreading throughout my whole body. That's when I felt something trickle out of the corner of my mouth, blood. Later I figured out the blood ritual had a side effect of killing people. Dean looked at me as my head lolled and I could barely keep my eyes open, I could feel his caged anger, and I wanted to help.

"Trent," he said, his tone oddly friendly, Trent didn't waver. "I want to be friends again, I do, but you have to let her go." He urged, Trent scoffed, and I let out a low moan of pure agony, "Dean." I breathed out in a whimper, not able to make a full sentence, blood rituals do that to a person. I didn't want him to do this. Trent went to smack me with the pistol, and I took advantage of the short period of time, to completely collapse. Right when I hit the floor, Dean launched at him, but Trent bolted around him, and fled.

"Sandra," Dean lifted me, I couldn't even support myself as my head lolled around. "Blood ritual, need air, pain." I couldn't form a full sentence, but Dean connected two and two. A look of horror spread across his face as he realized something.

I was shifting.